Gone Tropical (13 page)

“Helllllen,” Sarge yelled, and strode to the passenger door.

Kirstie blinked hard, and ran after him. “There was a big bull, and we got scared, and…and Grandma got hurt, and—”

“Wait,” Jake said, reaching to hold Kirstie back. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Amy liked that. He was sensitive to the situation. Much as she’d wanted to run and see what had happened, she didn’t need to get into the middle of a family argument. The door to the truck opened. Helen tried to get out. She swung her body around, and dangled both legs out the door. Amy let out a gasp. Damn. Helen’s leg was swollen and red.

“What the bloody hell happened?” Sarge asked, and his voice softened.

“We took a bathroom break at the roadside and a bull chased us,” Helen said.

Sarge felt around her ankle.

“Ouch.” Helen glared at him.

“I think it’s broken,” Kirstie said softly.

Amy could see the right ankle was horribly swollen and tinged with deep purplish-red and soft blue bruises. Kirstie sniffled. Amy put an arm around the girl’s shoulder and drew her to her side. “You did great, Kirstie. You were brave and very competent to drive that big truck. Were you scared?”

Kirstie shook her head and swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, smearing streaks of mascara onto her cheeks. “Wh…who are you?”

Jake smiled. “This is…my…ah, wife. We’re re-doing our vows on Saturday. Kirstie, I’d like you to meet Amy Jane Turner. Amy, this is Kirstie, Sarge’s granddaughter.”

Kirstie smiled. “Hi,” she said and slipped her hand into Amy’s.

“Hi back.”

Amy knew a bond had formed when the girl squeezed her hand and didn’t let go. And as far as she was concerned, with the way Jake and Sarge had gone all quiet on her, she needed all the female bonding she could get. Sarge sent Jake up to the lodge for ice and an elasticized bandage. He carefully examined his wife’s foot. Amy stood back a bit, making conversation with Kirstie.

Minutes later, Sarge picked up Helen and carried her up to the lodge verandah. “It’s so badly swollen, I think you’ve torn ligaments.” He kissed Helen’s forehead. “It hurts, doesn’t it?”

Helen nodded, her eyes welling up.

“I think I’ll have to take ya’ to the hospital in Laura, or even up to Cooktown. We’ll need x-rays. Ya’ might have broken something. How did it feel when you put weight on it?”

“Bad. Real bad.”

“Could ya’ walk?”

“Sort of, but I had to lean on Kirstie.” Helen glanced over at her granddaughter and gave her a weak smile. “I heard a popping sound, like something snapped when I fell. She was very brave and very smart. She kind of hobbled with me like we were in a three-legged race.”

“Meg said to use these,” Jake said, hurrying through the door. “She’s still looking for a bandage and she’ll get some Panadol, whatever that is, but I’m figuring it’s a pain killer.”

Sarge nodded. He placed the package of peas on the ankle. “Give me your T-shirt, mate. My shirt won’t do the trick.”

Jake took off his shirt and Sarge wrapped the soft fabric tight around Helen’s leg, holding the package of peas in place. Amy sighed. But now wasn’t the time to be admiring naked chests. She noticed a pretty little bird and asked Kirstie about it. She was amazed at the girl’s in-depth descriptions of the native birds. There was definitely a lot more to this young lady than met the eye. What would have caused someone so smart and so young to tattoo and pierce her body that way?

Meg came outside with a bandage and a pain killer. She seemed like she wanted to stay, but for some reason Jake and Sarge were polite to the point of being cool. Maybe they were too worried about Helen. Still, Amy couldn’t quite figure them out. They’d seemed friendlier toward Meg yesterday. After a couple of awkward moments Meg left.

“Whereabouts did this happen?” Sarge asked softly.

“About an hour down the highway.” Helen winced. “We pulled up near some trees because I had to pee. It would’ve been fine but some bloody cows started moving toward us, and then we saw a huge bull—”

“Yeah, and he wasn’t friendly,” Kirstie said.

Amy squeezed the girl’s hand and she squeezed back.

“We ran, got almost to the roadside and Grandma yelled for me to jump in the truck, and then she slipped on the embankment.”

“I knew I’d really hurt myself,” Helen said. “Kirstie got out and helped me and I hopped into the driver’s seat and took off. That bull was advancing at a fast trot.”

“A few miles up the road we pulled over.” Kirstie gave a soft laugh. “We were both shaking, but it was worse for Grandma because she was hurting. We propped her leg up on the dashboard, and I drove.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” Sarge asked.

“Kirstie said it was easier than driving the tractor. And we knew we were close. Besides, if we’d had to wait in the sun it would have been awful, my foot was really throbbing. Still is.”

“Yeah,” Kirstie butted in. “And we only had a half a bottle of water each. And we only had a half a tank of petrol left, so we wouldn’t have wanted to run the air conditioner.”

Sarge stood and massaged Kirstie’s shoulders. “It was the right thing to do. I forgot to tell you there’s a petrol station about ten minutes north of the turn off to Bungumby. You’re a smart young lady, and I’m sorry I blew my top. I was scared, and I jumped to conclusions. Thought you’d brainwashed your grandmother.”

Kirstie laughed. “It’s okay. And yeah, I deserve that.” She smiled shyly at Helen. “I know I’ve been a brat, but me and Grandma are gettin’ along good.”

“So what happens now?” Amy asked.

There was some coded info going on between Jake and Sarge. Jake was still half-naked but not appearing at all uncomfortable.

“We were planning on going swimming in the lagoon,” Sarge said. “Um, I think maybe you two can do that, Jake. Kirstie will come with us. And Jake, I’ll give Mick Dawson a call.”

Why the hell would Sarge call Mick Dawson? Mick was the FBI agent who’d failed in tracking Firth in France. Jake seemed to mull something over. Finally he nodded. “Will you call Mr. Helm for me?”

Amy frowned. “What do you need to call Daddy for?”

“He’s paying me, he needs a report.”

“Are you going to tell him that I’m here?”

Jake turned and stared hard at her.
Of course he would.

Kirstie walked over and stood beside her grandparents. “I could stay with Amy. I’d like to. Unless you need me, Grandma, I’ll come if you want me to.”

“Is that okay with you?” Sarge asked.

“Sure, no problem,” Jake said. “Amy?”

“I’d love to take Kirstie swimming. We’ve already discovered we have a lot in common.”

“Like what?”

Amy smiled. “We were both science nuts in school, and we love nature. We’re both into bird watching.”

“Yeah, and I like all of the creepy crawlies, snakes, and spiders. Amy even likes bats.”

“Bet she wouldn’t like cane toads,” Sarge said with a grin. “Even I hate those suckers.”

“What are cane toads?” Jake asked, his voice tentative.

“Huge sugar cane toads, they’re slimy, disgusting.” Helen did a mock shudder. “But listen, this ankle is hurting like crazy. I think we should get going.”

“I’ll see if Meg can give you another pack of peas.” Jake headed inside.

Amy was sure it was more about the nature discussion than the need for more peas. When he came back, he and Sarge got Helen down to the jeep. Sarge and Jake lounged at the front of the vehicle. Whatever they were discussing it was serious. Either she was reading him well, or she imagined things. Jake had that whole protector stance going on. She could tell by the way he held his head, the way his eyes flashed, scanning the area.

Sarge walked to the back of the truck, pulled out the luggage, and tossed the cabin key to Jake. Then he walked to the verandah. “Want me to say anything special to your father, Amy?”

“Tell him I’m fine. I’ll call when I can get reception.”

“So, I tell him you’re with us…that we’re lookin’ after ya’?”

She wanted to say she was looking after herself quite nicely, thank you very much. She glared at Jake. “Yes, thank you, Sarge. That’ll be great.”

Sarge jogged back, jumped into the jeep, and drove off with a quick wave. Jake picked up the bags and carried them to the bottom of the steps. “They say there’s some good bird watching down around the lagoon. Do you need to eat breakfast, Kirstie?”

“Nah, I ate a ton of junk on the drive. A swim would be great.”

“Good, we’ll get your stuff over to the cabin.” Jake picked up the two bags. “Go in and grab a couple pair of binoculars from reception, and then catch up with us.”

A couple of minutes later, Kirstie joined them on the covered walkway with the binoculars. “This one is ours,” Jake said, as they passed the door to number ten.

Ours.
Amy shivered. Somehow coming from his mouth, the word
ours
seemed magical…possible…interesting. She really did need a good shaking. She hardly knew him, and she didn’t know him intimately at all, just one kiss. They stopped at the door to number twelve.

“I’ll put my swimmers on and hang up mine and Grandma’s stuff.” Kirstie smiled. “I’m so glad you like swimming, Amy. I’m really excited about hanging with you guys.”

Amy smiled. She liked how Kirstie used American expressions. She guessed it was a sign of the times where they saw the same movies, read the same books, used the internet; it brought countries closer together. “Yep, it’ll be fun.”

Being alone with Jake would have required restraint on her part.
Swimming?
The word bolted into her thoughts. Oh, no. She only had that new bikini she’d bought in Sydney. She hadn’t worn one in years. What had she been thinking?

Jake put the key into the cabin door, pushed it open and took a look around. “Take your time, Kirstie. I have to talk over a few things with Amy. Knock on our door when you’re ready.”

“I’ll be about fifteen minutes,” Kirstie said. “Will that be okay?”

“Sure,” Jake said.

Amy wondered what they were about to discuss.

“We better move fast.” Jake said, and urged her toward their cabin. He shielded her from entry, his eyes sweeping their room. Then he strode across and opened the bathroom door, peered inside, and turned around. “I’ll explain more in a minute, but gist is, we pretend Kirstie’s our kid. We go swimming and bird watching and try to spot someone we think is tailing us. We saw evidence this morning that a man is down near the lagoon.”

A shiver of apprehension ran through her. Could it be the same guy? Now she had a double whammy, wearing a bikini in front of Jake, and confronting a sleazy guy who’d followed her from Sydney. Maybe she could eliminate one of the problems and wear shorts.

“You take the bathroom and put on your bathing suit,” Jake said. “I’ll change in the bedroom. A family going swimming will be the perfect cover.”

No such luck. She was going swimming.
Lime green bikini.
Gulp.
Here I come.

Chapter Eleven

Jake pulled on bathing trunks, slipped one of Sarge’s tropical shirts on, and left the buttons undone. He stared across the verandah to the rainforest.

Amy must be a good psychologist, even though she specialized in sexual therapy. Kirstie had really taken to her. The more he was around Amy the more he liked her. She had a caring, almost nurturing, personality. That independent tough girl attitude was a façade. She probably missed her old man as much as he missed her—not that either would admit to that—seems like stubbornness runs mighty deep through the Helm family.

Now he was playing psychologist. But there was definitely a soft side to Amy. Strange her being a sex therapist, somehow it didn’t seem to fit. Not that he knew much about therapists. He shied away from them whenever he could, especially after his partner was killed. He glanced at his watch, almost noon. Amy came out of the bathroom in a long blue fringed scarf thing tied loosely over her breasts. It reached to about mid-calf, but he could see the straps of whatever was underneath tied up at the back of her neck. Lime green straps.

“I’m ready.”

She seemed shy, embarrassed even. The sex therapist was shy about being undressed, or half-undressed, in front of him? Interesting change of pace, he could get some mileage out of that. He smiled softly. Nah, he wouldn’t tease her.

“There are a couple of things I have to tell you, before Kirstie gets here,” Jake said.

He sat on the edge of the bed and patted a spot beside him. Amy stood near enough, staring at her flip-flops, but she didn’t sit. “You look, ah…nice. Do you need that cover?”

“It’s a sarong,” she said and mumbled something else he didn’t quite catch.

“Might get in the way, we’ve got a long walk.”

“I don’t like my legs.” A flush crept over her cheeks and her brown eyes blazed as if daring him to comment.

Jake made a scoffing noise, then stopped. “I’ve seen them before, you’ve worn shorts.” He reached over, teasing, lifted the sarong, and quirked a corner of his mouth. “I like your legs. They’re strong, and curvy.”

Amy moved closer and whacked him on the shoulder. “They’re fat.”

He saw the shyness, felt her embarrassment and uncertainty. What the hell kind of story had Firth given her? Had he destroyed her faith in herself? She was a gorgeous woman. He stood, untied the sarong and let it puddle around her feet.
Bikini. Lime green.
He sucked in his breath and if it was possible, went harder than he had earlier this morning. The woman was killing him, but he’d started it this time.

“See, I told you, you wouldn’t—”

Jake pulled her tight to his chest and kissed away the words. “I love your legs,” he murmured and she kissed him back, and what had started out as an attempt at reassurance turned quickly to passion. He deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing her upper lip, teasing. She slipped her arms around his neck pulling him closer.

He cupped her ass with both hands, his erection straining against the thin cotton bathing shorts. God, he wanted her. He ran his hands up her back, over her shoulders and the back of her neck, through her hair. His tongue explored, liking what it tasted.

Oh yeah, nothing not to like here.