Page 55 of Secrets of Riverside

She closed her eyes, rested her head back, took her rose-coloured glasses off and candidly thought about Jarrah King. In a matter of weeks, he’d somehow found a way to climb over her walls and swim through the cold waters of her heart. There had to be a motive. He was too good, too nice, to be true. She scrutinised him, thought about the time she’d spent with him, and contemplated their uncanny connection. Until now, she’d been busy trying not to act upon whatever this was building between them. But now there was another life involved. A life she’d protect with her own. It was a whole other ball game. She’d been trying not to notice the red flags, the signs, and there’d been a couple. His lack of a past, her sense that she’d met him before, the heated undercurrent between him and Tommy, the way he acted like he knew her when she knew damn well they’d never met before. How could they have? She’d been trying to push aside the gnawing sensation that he had something to do with the letter. But now she was allowing herself the liberty of seeing things clearly, it was possible. She’d been brought to Jarrah’s property for a reason. He had to have had something to do with the fire. And as for Tommy, he might be too young to have played a hand, but he was involved in the scheme to get her there, she was sure of it. Had she fallen for, and fallen pregnant to, a man who’d played a part in the murder of her family?

No way, surely not. Fate couldn’t be that cruel, could it?

Maybe she was barking up the wrong tree, in a forest far, far away from the actual truth. Maybe Jarrah was innocent in all of this. Maybe it was all Tommy. Maybe she was just grasping at straws, trying to come up with a reason to hate Jarrah, so she didn’t have to tell him she was pregnant, so she didn’t have to risk being told he wasn’t happy about it.

Argh!

She smacked the steering wheel with both hands. She really needed to find a way to calm her jangling nerves, and that certainly wasn’t going to be with her usual go-to of alcohol. So what, or who, was going to help her? Turning the key, she revved her Jimny to life, backed out, and headed in the opposite direction to Riverside Acres. She had no idea where she was going, but for now, she knew she didn’t want to go back to where all her problems were waiting for her. Reaching a junction, she veered left, and a quaint little church beside a cemetery caught her eye. In days gone by, when she was a little girl, she used to go to mass every Sunday with her parents and little brother, but since losing them, she’d lost her faith. What kind of god would be so brutal? She hadn’t felt able to set a foot inside God’s house since the day of her family’s funeral. But now she felt utterly compelled to stop and somehow find the courage to go inside, so she could forgive God for taking three of her most precious loved ones from her, and also find a way to forgive herself for surviving. And maybe, in between all of that, by some miracle, she would find the comfort and answers she was seeking.

Pulling up beneath the shade of a huddle of towering trees, she killed the engine. It took her a couple of breaths to be able to take her seatbelt off and shove her door open. Her heart felt as if it were rattling in her chest as she stepped out and shoved her keys into her pocket. Pausing, she took her time and breathed deeply, slowly. The scent of freshly cut grass and blooming jasmine flowers filled her senses. She could do this. If not for herself, then for her baby. Her child deserved a mother that was put together. The headstones of the neighbouring cemetery were her only audience as she negotiated the pebbled pathway and after drawing in another deep breath, climbed the four steps of the church while trying to ignore the sensation of waves crashing in her stomach.

Standing at the front door, she peered inside. The leadlight windows dappled striking colours over the pews and the scent of burnt sage lingered. Dipping her fingers into the holy water by the entrance, she did what her mother had taught her to do, and made the sign of the cross. Then, with one cautious step after another, she slipped into the quiet sanctuary and settled into the back bench seat. For now, going any further inside felt like a sin. As her eyes darted from the altar to the high open-beamed ceilings, to the statue of Jesus hung from the cross, it was hard not to go back there, to that heartbreaking day, when she’d squeezed Ebony’s hand so very tightly as she’d stared at three coffins lined up, side by side, one so much smaller than the other two. With the recollection, she felt her heart split down the middle, and like a dam breaking its banks, she broke down and sobbed harder than she had in a very long time.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been crying for, when a gentle hand came to rest upon her back. ‘Hi, my dear, is everything okay?’

Lifting her teary gaze, she tried to smile at the priest, but her lips trembled. ‘Not really. I hope it’s okay to be in here?’

‘Of course.’ His smile was filled with genuine warmth. ‘Do you need an ear?’

She pointed to hers and tried to smile. ‘I’ve already got two.’

‘Humour is one of the ways to cope with sadness.’ The priest chuckled. ‘Talking about it is another.’ There was immeasurable wisdom within his gaze. ‘Can I sit?’

‘Yes, of course.’ She nudged a little up the pew.

‘You can choose to talk.’ He placed both his hands onto his knees. ‘Or we can just sit quietly, my dear, it’s up to you.’

‘I’m pregnant,’ she blurted out before she could stop herself. ‘And I don’t know if I should tell the father or not.’

‘I see.’ His brows furrowed, more in thought than judgement. ‘That’s a blessing, yes, to be with child?’

‘Yes, it most certainly is.’ Little did he know just how much.

‘I’m glad to hear it.’ He looked to her, and not just at her, but also within her. ‘That’s what you need to focus on, then, how fortunate you are to be carrying a child, and simply trust that everything else will fall into place as it’s meant to.’

She took a moment to really hear what he was saying. ‘So, I need to focus on the good, and not make any rash decisions about the bad.’

‘Something like that, yes.’ He folded his hands in his lap and looked to the statue of Jesus on the cross. ‘And as he taught all of us, sometimes, even in the most challenging of circumstances, the bad actually turns out to be very good.’

‘I like that.’ She lightly placed a hand over his. ‘Thank you.’

‘My pleasure, dear.’ He nodded and offered a kind smile. ‘Any time.’

She stood and smiled gratefully. ‘I’m so glad I came in here.’

‘Me too.’ He straightened beside her. ‘I hope I gave you some peace.’

‘Yes, you have. Thanks again.’ She took quiet steps outside, noting how her heart felt a little lighter as she descended the steps.

An hour later, and she was back in her spot, on the patio of her motel room, when the crunch of boots on the gravel drive approached. She instinctively knew they were Jarrah’s footfalls and, as nervous as she was, she managed to plant a smile on her face as she turned to greet him.

‘Hey, Millie, how were your results?’

‘Yeah, good, he reckons I’m as fit as a fiddle.’

I’m carrying your baby, our baby.

‘Oh, good.’ He flopped down in the chair beside her. ‘I was starting to get really worried, seeing as you took so long in town.’

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