me carry some of that for you.’
She avoided his gaze. ‘I’m fine.’
Surely Luke could see that she needed to get away from him? Someone certainly could. Anahera could feel her mother’s curious gaze all the way from where she was serving food again.
Had she been wrong in assuming that only she and Luke knew what had happened when he’d been on the island that first time? How close they had become?
If Vailea was busy putting two and two together, it could make things a whole heap more difficult.
‘No, you’re not.’ Sam took the heavy life pack from her hand. ‘Don’t be such a heroine, Ana. You make us look bad.’
Sure enough, another man was coming towards them, clearly intent on helping.
Anahera smiled at Sam. ‘Go on, then. Just to make you feel better.’
It would make her feel better, too, to have company as she walked away from Luke. She straightened her back. She had friends here. She used her now free hand to wave at her mother, who smiled back. She had family here, too. Luke was the outsider. If he presented a threat, she had plenty of people on her side.
And maybe he would retire gracefully. Sam had paused as Luke introduced him to the man who’d joined them.
‘This is Harry. Sheikh Rahman al-Taraq. He’s the person who’s responsible for all of this. The man who’s making it his mission to find a way to beat encephalitis, amongst other tropical nasties.’
A sheikh? Anahera blinked. This was all getting a little surreal.
Sam shook the sheikh’s hand. ‘I can’t wait to talk to you,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a few minutes to spend in the laboratory and then I’ll be back.’
‘Mind if I come with you? I’d like to see how the labs are shaping up. We’ve put quite a lot of new equipment in there. Luke, you should come, too.’
‘Oh?’
‘I might have another job for you—after you’ve given your keynote address tomorrow. We’ve got a bit of research to set up, here. A clinical trial, I’m hoping.’
‘I’m only here for a couple of days, Harry.’ Luke’s laugh sounded a bit forced. Nervous even?
If that was the case, he wasn’t the only one feeling like that. Anahera started walking towards the golf cart again. This was getting rapidly worse. She needed a safe place to try and get her head around it all. She couldn’t wait to get back to the hospital.
No … maybe she’d ask Hettie to stay on to start her night shift early. The safe place Anahera really needed was at home.
With her daughter.
Bessie, the housekeeper at the Lockhart mansion who looked after Hana when Anahera was at work, had been happy to babysit tonight.
‘She’s been no trouble,’ she said. ‘Went to bed and off to sleep like an angel.’
‘That’s where you need to go, too, Bessie. You look tired. Thank you so much for your help. I don’t know what we’d do without you.’
The hug from the older woman was soft and squashy and full of love, and it took Anahera straight back to the kind of simplicity her childhood had been full of.
It made her want to cry.
‘I am tired,’ Bessie admitted. ‘But I’m also very happy. Miss Caroline and Keanu are coming back very soon so I want the house to look perfect. We might have a wedding to get ready for.’
Anahera smiled. Keanu was another permanent doctor on Wildfire Island and, along with Sam, was a very good friend. Caroline was a Lockhart—the twin who had come into the world unscathed. ‘It is very happy news. But don’t go overdoing things.’
‘Tell your mother that, too. She’s working too hard. She has her job at the hospital and now she’s taking on more work at that resort place.’ Bessie shook her head as she gathered up her basket and cardigan. ‘So much is happening on the island at the moment. I can’t keep up …’
‘I know. I feel like that, too.’ Especially right now. ‘But they’re good things, Bessie. The mine closing has been a disaster for everybody, and Caroline’s going to try and fix things. And the conference centre is going to create more jobs and bring in some money. I heard that there’s going to be some new research projects happening, too. It’s all good.’
But Bessie was frowning. ‘You don’t look so happy about it, Ana.’
Anahera summoned a genuine smile and words of reassurance as she waved Bessie off. She was going to have to be careful what showed on her face for the next few days. At least it would be a while before her mother came home. She had time to get things sorted in her head.
And her heart.
It was easy to do that. All she needed to do was tiptoe into the room where Hana lay sleeping in her small bed inside the mosquito netting that was printed with pretty pink butterflies. The nightlight was also a butterfly with glowing wings—because Hana had had a passion for butterflies ever since she’d been a baby—and it gave enough light to see her daughter’s face clearly as Anahera pulled the netting back. She stroked the tangle of golden curls back from the little face and bent to press a gentle kiss to the soft olive skin of Hana’s cheek.
Hana stirred. She didn’t wake but she smiled in her sleep and her lips moved in a contented whisper.
‘Mumma …’
‘I’m here, darling. Sleep tight. Love you to the moon and back.’
She stole another kiss and then let the netting fall back to protect the precious little body, but for a long moment she didn’t move. This was what she’d needed more than anything. To feel this love.
To remind herself that everything had been worth it and that she had no regrets.
There were things that she needed to do, like finding something for dinner, having a shower and finding a clean uniform for work tomorrow, but they could all wait until her mother was home. A quiet moment to herself seemed more important and Anahera chose to curl up on the old cane chair in the corner of the veranda that was bathed in moonlight and the scent of the nearby frangipani bushes.
Maybe it was the moonlight that was her undoing. Or the sweet scent of the tropical flowers. It was probably inevitable that she had to revisit her past, given the shock of seeing Luke, and maybe it was a necessary step in order to get past it and move forward again. Or at least get herself together enough to make sure her mother didn’t guess the truth.
She couldn’t know, could she? If she’d had even the tiniest suspicion she would never have made that casual remark that had sliced open old wounds for her own daughter.
‘You had to rush away, though … Your wife was ill …’
It had been such a secret thing—their love affair.
How naïve had she been to think that had been because it had been so precious to them both? A private
