Harkett's Haven (2 page)

Rachel could see
the resemblance between the man and the girl immediately. She had long dark hair, the same beautiful black eyes, pale almost translucent skin. She was as beautiful as, what must surely be her father, was handsome.

‘Will she be OK?’
Rachel managed to whisper but started to cough, struggling to stop, pulling in ragged gasps of air.

‘
Shhh. Don’t try to speak.’

He continued to work on her arm and then answered, ‘My daughter
will be fine.’

Rachel closed her eyes, feeling no
pain in her arm now, the tug of his stitching pulling gently on her, the warmth seeping slowly into her chilled body.

More t
ime passed and she was woken again,

‘Rachel.... Rachel.’

The man was sitting beside her on the floor and was smoothing her hair back from her face.

‘I’
d like to get you and my daughter to hospital to be monitored overnight – there’s a danger of infection with inhaling sea water but the road is flooded and I can’t get you out of here.’

He spoke with a
deep, soft American, maybe Canadian accent, and kept stroking her long hair, his smooth hands gentle and soothing. He had changed his clothes and had on a cream V-neck sweater and cords. His dark hair had dried and was short with a slight curl, slightly dishevelled. He had a strong jaw but the shadows under his eyes betrayed his tiredness and worry. He was enchanting.

‘You’
ll have to stay here tonight. You and my daughter can share a bed. It’ll be the best way for me to keep an eye on you both overnight; make sure neither of you suffer any ill-effects from today’s adventure.’

Rachel tried to sit up to protest but started coughing again, the pain in her stitched arm slicing through her as she lever
ed herself up.

‘I promise you there’s nothing untoward.
My name is Eric Harkett. I’m the doctor for this area and I live here with my daughter. As I said, I would’ve had both of you in to hospital tonight but the roads are impassable; this is one of the worst storms we’ve had for a generation here. I’ve oxygen, medicine, everything I need to treat either of you should you become unwell. You’re safe here. I promise.’

He smiled at her and she knew she had no choice. The wind howled outside and the
torrential rain was hurled at the huge windows in violent, noisy frustration. Rachel knew she was safe in the house and in these conditions it would be foolish to try to leave.

‘Is there anyone I can contact to tell you’re here and safe?’

‘No.’ Rachel said a bit too quickly.

He looked at her questioningly.

‘I live by myself just up the coast. There’s no-one...’

S
he turned from him, avoiding his gaze, focussing on the fire.

‘OK. Can I get you someth
ing hot to drink? Could I suggest a sweet hot chocolate?’

Rachel smiled at him and whispered,
‘I can’t tell you how good that sounds.’

He got up to leave her but just as he took his first step she called him back.

‘Would you have anything I could wear?’

He grinned at her, ‘S
ure but you might have to do some alterations. I’ll be back in a minute.’

Walking
to the other side of the room, he disappeared from sight.

Rachel sat up, holding the blanket to
cover her body. She felt dizzy and the pain in her arm once again flared but it didn’t last long. Holding on to the sofa, she pulled herself up to stand, clutching the blanket round her. The room spun and briefly blackened. She fell to the sofa.

‘Hey
there. Take it easy.’

He had returned with s
ome clothes in his arms. Sitting beside her he took her wrist and took her pulse.

‘You need to take it easy Rachel.
You’ve had a nasty scrape to your arm and lost some blood. Don’t try to get up. I’ll carry you upstairs and until then you have a servant for anything you may require.’

He made a little
bow of his head.

Rachel laughed and then started coughing again.

‘Let me get that cup of cocoa.’ He left her on the sofa but she could hear and see him at work in the kitchen at the far end of the room.

The ground floor of the house was open plan,
the living area - the log fire, chairs and sofas were nearest the huge windows - the kitchen and dining table towards the back of the house, open wooden steps up one side of the huge room led upstairs. The house was very modern, white walls, wood floors, sumptuous cream sofas and chairs. The modern art on the wall was of the sea, huge canvasses that reflected the beautiful views outside the house. The faint smell of wood smoke scented the air.

She took the clothe
s he had left her from the sofa; a T-shirt and a pair of pyjama shorts.

While he was busy in the kitchen, she shrugged out of her pants, pulling on the shorts under the blanket and then undid her still damp bra, her sore arm making her wince as she moved.

‘Here you are...’

Rachel started, and looked at him alarmed, hugging her blanket close to her.

‘It’s OK Rachel. Sorry I didn’t mean to sneak up on you like that.’ He held up his hand in apology.

‘No...
no....I’m sorry .....I’m not feeling quite myself.’

‘Of course
not. Rachel......look, you’ve done something incredibly brave. I owe my daughter’s life to you. I could never thank you enough.’

He touched her hand and she flinched from his touch, not wanting to
, but unable to control her movement.

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The surprise at her reaction to his touch was obvious in his face.

‘Look. I’ll leave you just now. Give you some space to get your clothes on and get that cocoa.’

‘No, Eric.
It’s not you. I’m sorry. I’ve..... I’ve recently left someone who ....didn’t want to be left. I’m just a bit...jittery.’

He
froze, a fleeting look of shock in his face.

It was her turn to look concerned.

‘Eric. Are you OK?’

‘Yes. Yes....
old ghosts.’ His expression was pained, uncomfortable. ‘Can I help you with that t-shirt? Your arm must be hurting by now.’

She was about to reject his help but there
was something about the look on his face and the tone of his voice that made her soften.

‘Sure. That would be great.’ She turned her back to him and
he gently pulled the t-shirt over her head. She eased her good arm through and he stretched the arm on the other side to allow her injured arm to ease through. His hand brushed the outer slope of her breast as he helped her. His soft touch was warm and.....welcome. She was surprised to feel the first tickle of desire after what she had been through but it was very welcome to know that she could still feel that way.

‘Sorry, sorry,’ he mumbled.

She pulled the t-shirt down and turned to smile at him. ‘It’s OK. Thank you.’

She tucked her feet up under her on the sof
a, ‘Is your daughter sleeping?’

‘Yes. She’s out like a light. I have her wired up to a heart monitor.’ He tapped a little electronic device on his belt
. ‘If there’s any change, this’ll let me know.’

‘What’s her name?’

‘Esme. She’s ten.’

‘Where’s
Esme’s mum?’

‘She doesn’t have one. I’m a widower.’

‘Eric. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.’

‘No. It’s
a perfectly natural question.’

They sat in
comfortable silence and Rachel sipped the hot cocoa, the heat and sweetness dispelling the last of the chill from her body. Sleep was spreading its soft tendrils through her body and she felt her eyes closing.

‘
Eric, I’m feeling the effects of .....my earlier swim. I’m exhausted and I don’t think I can stay awake much longer. Could you show me where I’ll be sleeping?’

‘I meant it when I said that you’ll be with
Esme. I’ll be on the chair in the corner. It’s very important that you are both monitored for the first night after something like this.’

‘I’m too tired to protest
...and I do understand,’ she shrugged resignedly and stood up. She had to hold on to the corner of the sofa, dizziness overtaking her again.

Eric stood up and scooped her into his arms.

‘It’s easier this way.’ He lifted her effortlessly and Rachel was happy to be carried. His strong arms held her tight and she laid her head against his chest. He smelled of fresh linen, his aftershave woody and subtle. The room he took her to was dimly lit, Esme just visible tucked under the blanket. The only sound was the rain and wind howling outside.

Eric placed her carefully on the
opposite side of the bed from Esme and grateful, she tucked under the cotton sheets and sank into the soft pillow.

Eric bent over her,

‘Goodnight Rachel.’ and softly kissed her forehead, ‘Thank you.’

He went to
a large high backed chair in the corner of the room and pulled a blanket over himself. Rachel couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer and the wind and rain hammering on the window, scary and life-threatening before, soothed her to sleep.

She knew nothing more until a small pair of arms
crept round her. She took a moment to remember where she was and what had happened. The early morning sunrise cast a warm glow into the bedroom where they all now slept. Eric was asleep in the chair in the corner and Esme had moved over to Rachel’s side of the bed and cuddled into her. Rachel held her small warm arms, delighted and touched by the little girl’s gesture of affection. Warm and comfortable, Rachel fell asleep once again and didn’t wake until she felt someone touching her hair. Esme had sat up beside her and was plaiting her hair. Eric was no longer in the room.

‘Hi
Esme. My name’s Rachel. This is kind of a strange way to meet isn’t it?’

The girl remained silent for a moment.

‘You’re very pretty.’

‘That’s a lovely thing to say. Thank you. So are you.’

Esme continued to plait Rachel’s long hair.

‘Can
you wait here until I get a ribbon from my room?’

‘Sure. I won’t move a muscle.’

Esme jumped off the bed and ran out the room.

A moment later she was back and tying Rachel’s plait.

‘There!’ she said triumphantly.

‘Thanks
Esme. Great job. Now, how about some breakfast?’

‘
Yes. I’m starving.’

‘Me too.
Come on then. Show me where to go.’

Esme
bounded off the bed. Rachel was delighted to see that the girl seemed to have suffered no ill-effects from the previous day. She on the other hand, felt like she had been through a clothes wringer. Her arm throbbed and every muscle in her body protested when she moved to stand up.

She got up slowly and walked to the window. Pulling the blinds aside, the view that met her was dazzling. The storm
had passed and the day was serene and beautiful, the sea tranquil and sparkling. A gentle breeze pushed cotton clouds across the pale blue sky. The place was deserted and beautiful but, out of place in this wilderness, a smartly dressed woman was walking fast and with purpose towards the house.