Page 15 of Singing For His Kiss

“I’d rather walk.”

“It’s quite a way. We’re a bit out of the central district from here.”

“I’m used to walking.”

“Yeah, Dad. She’s fit. She rides horses, you know.” Elizabeth could have hugged Madeline for her innocent comment.

“That’s right. A walk into town will give me a chance to stretch my legs,” Elizabeth said, grateful for Madeline’s unexpected helpful comment.

James watched her for a moment. “If you have to go right now, stay here for a moment. The weather is atrocious outside. I’ll get you the coat I promised.” He disappeared into his room and before long came back out holding a soft black coat. He held the collar for a moment, his thumb stroking the material, then he looked up at her and his eyes cleared. “This was Hanna’s. Since you lost yours, please accept this.”

The material looked expensive, and she waved it off. “Oh, no! It’s far too good for me.”

James frowned. “It certainly is not too good for you. Take it. It will keep you warm. I only feel responsible for you losing yours.”

He held the coat to her. Tentatively, she took it. The coat was light and soft, and she knew she’d never afford anything like this. Not used to receiving gifts, she found she was a little uncomfortable. And she knew from experience nothing was given without an alternate agenda.

There won’t be with James.

However, her man-reading ability hadn’t been the most spot on in the past, so she remained reserved. Besides, he didn’t give her a coat for any other reason than payment for her dunk in the freezing ocean.

“Thank you. For everything.”

She glanced at him, but his gaze held warmth. There was also an extra layer of something she didn’t want to acknowledge. A combined awareness on a sensual level. An offer. An invitation.

Look where the last invitation got you.

She sobered up quickly. She gave him a small nod, took his hand in hers and said, “It was my pleasure. Goodbye.”

She gave Madeline a cuddle and forced herself not to look back as she walked down the stairs, across the foyer and through the front door. As she shut the door, a twinge of regret touched her heart. She could be in there now, having breakfast, planning a day with Madeline. It would have been nice to take up his offer, but it would only be a reprieve.

As she walked down the driveway, she chipped away that little piece of regret from her heart and locked it in the box she kept all the other painful memories and feelings. The box overflowed, but she mentally locked it shut with a decided click and shoved it back into the dark place where she kept things best forgotten.

* * *

It was five in the afternoon, and the rain hadn’t let up all day. In fact, if it was at all possible, it seemed to be falling even harder. Frigid wind swept from the ocean, laced with ice and had frozen her to the bone. Elizabeth glanced at the quickly darkening sky. Soon, it would be pitch dark. The steel-grey clouds formed an impenetrable ceiling overhead, and now heavy with water, they seemed to have dropped so low, she felt she could reach out and touch them. On the other side of the street, waves crashed like distant thunder, steel-grey water capped with white, filmy frosting. It was rough, wild and in this weather, foolish to be out in.

She’d finally ventured to the one and only store cum café in the main street and huddled beneath the gas heater set to warm the outside tables, which were all bare. There were people inside, sitting in booths, smiling and chatting, drinking coffee, eating and nice and cosy warm. She shuddered, turning her back on them, trying to rub some warmth into her bare hands. She huffed into cupped palms, the sensation offering fleeting relief. If only she had a pair of gloves, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

The coat James had given her offered some protection against the weather, but if it continued on like this, she feared it would be no help at all. She tugged it tighter around her. There was a light floral scent in it, but also James’ scent. It had probably hung unused in his wardrobe, next to his other clothes. Unused, and kept there for years as a memory of his wife. Clearly, if he still had her clothes in the wardrobe, he wasn’t over her death.

She’d been surprised that it had been hard leaving James. And Madeline. It was as though a little piece of her heart had decided it wanted to stay. It was a soothing balm to the torture it had endured. But Elizabeth was a realist. It was a respite. That was all.

She’d gone straight to the bus shelter to view the timetable and discovered there wasn’t a bus out of here until Monday. Not a surprise considering she was off the beaten path here. She shouldn’t have given in to the whimsy of a beach in the dead of winter. But after the horror of past events, she’d been desperate for a few precious hours where she might forget about him. In reality, she couldn’t have picked a worse place or worse time.

Nothing came through this town. The traffic was limited to locals and people walking their dogs. She’d even waited for those few people dashing through the rain and asked to hitch a lift out of town. She’d even pounced on a little old lady. No one was going anywhere, they said. The weather was just too bad. It wasn’t safe with the cliffs the way they were and the worst of the storm yet to come in from the Arctic. She was certainly feeling those Arctic winds now. They were tearing through her clothing and straight into her bones.

After the failure of finding a ride out of town, she’d tried to find a cheap hotel to stay and wait for the Monday bus, but there was nothing. There were a few B&Bs, but they were way out of her price range. She had precisely twenty seven dollars and thirty cents left in her purse and nothing in her bank; thanks, David Logan.

She had no one else to blame but herself. She’d been a fool. Had been in love with the idea of being in love. Or maybe she’d just been so damn lonely that when he’d shown her some attention, she’d fallen over herself for more. He’d literally swept her off her feet, and she’d been too caught up in the giddy feeling of being special that she hadn’t seen the warning signs until it was too late.

The one and only time she’d decided to take a chance on her heart, and look where it left her.

She sighed, taking in a deep, steeling breath. She couldn’t do much about her situation now. She’d just have to rough it. If the café didn’t mind, she could stay here in the relative shelter of the outside gas heater. Next, she’d go to the pub and find a quiet corner. She could ask if they needed help in return for a meal. That way, she’d stay at least until closing time.

After that, she’d hole up somewhere, protected from the weather. She’d have to keep moving if she didn’t want to freeze to death, but she’d done it before, and she could do it again. In the morning, she’d try harder to get a lift into Melbourne and put this down to another bad decision.

“Liz’beth!” She heard a faint voice calling over the noise of the deluge. A small body barreled into her, appearing through the curtain of rain.

Elizabeth bent to her knee and hugged Madeline, surprised at how happy she was to see the child. “Hey, sweetie. What are you doing here?”

“We came to the café for milkshakes! I asked Daddy if we might see you again, and he said maybe we wouldn’t, but I knew we would, and here you are, right here.”

“But… where’s your dad?”

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