Chapter Sixteen

  When Lachlan emerged from the haze of sleep the next morning, it was to the knowledge that something was missing. He opened his eyes to a room still shrouded in night with only the barest hint of the grey dawn lighting the windowpane. It took a moment for him to place himself but the smell of her was strong and he breathed in her summer-breeze aroma. He was in April’s bed. Alone.

  His heart skipped a beat at the thought that she might have done a runner, but that was absurd—this was her home. Besides, he could hear someone moving around in the kitchen. He untangled himself from the blankets and straightened his track pants and t-shirt before running his hands through his hair a few times, trying to settle his bed hair into some semblance of style. Then he headed out to find her.

  He paused in the doorway where he could see Ben still asleep on the sofa. They’d argued the night before when Lachlan had decided to go into April’s room.

  “She’s already told you she doesn’t want this. Don’t do this to yourself!” he’d said. But Lachlan wouldn’t listen, he couldn’t listen. Knowing she was so close but not being able to go to her was worse than having spent an entire week in a different state. So he’d risked going into her room, risked having her throw him out.

  But she hadn’t. Instead she’d been crying, and it broke his heart to hear her. Lying there, comforting her, he’d begun to think that maybe there was more to her fear than simply not wanting to complicate Marie’s life.

  He shut his eyes tight, steeling himself for one last try at convincing her to give him a chance. If he couldn’t change her mind now, then later in the morning Ben would insist they leave and he didn’t hold much hope for a reconciliation after that. He exhaled audibly, grabbed his jumper from where he’d tossed it the night before and walked into the kitchen.

  “Morning,” Marie said from beside the kettle. “Coffee?”

  “Morning. Thanks.” He glanced around. “I thought April was in here.”

  “She must still be in bed.”

  “Uh, no. I just came from there.”

  “Is that so?” Marie said, ducking her head so her long reddish brown hair hid her face, but not before Lachlan noticed the grin she tried to hide. His stomach clenched and a knot formed between his shoulders, his heart rapidly began bashing his chest. Maybe April had done a runner after all. Marie didn’t seem concerned though, rather she took two paces to her right and lifted up the kitchen curtain. “She’s outside.”

  “Outside! Is she mad? It must be two degrees out there?” Lachlan exclaimed, striding to the window to see for himself. There she was, sitting on a large rock in a bright red coat, like a flower slicing through the grey of dawn to welcome the sun. The instant relief he felt at the sight of her eased the tension in his body and he forced himself to take a couple of deep breaths to calm his galloping heartbeat.

  “It’s okay. She’s well rugged up. She goes out there when she wants time to think. It helps her clear her head.” Lachlan turned to the young woman who appeared much older than her sixteen years.

  “What am I doing wrong?”

  Marie arched her eyes sympathetically. “It’s been hard for April. Raising me, living alone. She was sixteen when our parents died.” Lachlan nodded his understanding but wasn’t really sure if he did. Marie must have known because she continued her explanation. “For the past decade she’s been as much mother to me as she has sister and that hasn’t left time for anything else. Now that I’m old enough to start looking after myself, she’s having trouble letting go. Please be patient with her. She’s never shown any interest in anyone like she has with you, but for some reason she’s holding back. Don’t walk away yet.”

  Lachlan smiled humourlessly. “I’ll stay as long as she lets me.”

  “Good,” Marie said sadly, turning back to the mugs and pouring the coffees. “Here, why don’t you take her out a coffee, it always improves her mood.”

  Grinning more genuinely, Lachlan grabbed the mugs she handed him and trekked his way out the kitchen door. He paused just beyond the threshold, mesmerised by the vision before him. The first rays of sun had just breached the horizon and kissed the rock April sat upon. Her eyes were closed, her face pointed toward the golden stream of light and her chest rose high as she breathed deeply. While he watched, she rolled her head back along her shoulders, exposing her throat to the cool morning air. God, she was beautiful.

  He cleared his throat. “Coffee?”

  She snapped out of her trance and graced him with a heart-stopping smile. Walking across the short lawn, he handed her a cup then took a seat on a second, smaller rock beside the one she was sitting on.

  “I love this time of morning,” she sighed after swallowing a mouthful of coffee and putting the cup on the ground beside her rock.

  “I can tell.” When she glanced at him he rushed on, placing his own cup on the ground as well. “I was watching you a moment ago, you seemed so peaceful. I didn’t want to intrude.”

  “I was smelling the garden,” she said then laughed at his confused expression. “There’s this moment, every morning, when the plants open their pours and release their fragrance. Right when the sun first hits their leaves. I love to just sit here and soak it in. Right now, in the middle of winter, the scent is so subtle you’d completely miss it if you didn’t know what to wait for. But in late spring it’s like a potent perfume that can overwhelm your senses and leave you feeling intoxicated.”

  She closed her eyes as she spoke and raised her face once more to the rising sun and Lachlan felt a longing so strong he couldn’t resist reaching out to gently stroke his fingers down her cheek. She sucked in a breath.

  “Lachlan, please don’t. It’s already hard enough as it is,” she whispered, her eyes still shut.

  “It doesn’t have to be this hard,” he murmured. But when she didn’t answer he allowed his hand to drop and cleared his throat. “Your garden’s beautiful,” he said instead and was rewarded as she beamed at him with pride.

  “It’s my favourite place to be.” She stood up, throwing arms out as if she wanted to touch every part at once. Lachlan stood up too.

  “I can see why. It’s very tranquil.” As the sun climbed higher, more of the garden was revealed and Lachlan had the distinct impression that no matter how great it looked now, it would be a sight to see in spring and summer. An eclectic mix of garden beds and ornaments littered the lawn, a dry river bed meandering its way to a fishpond, an ornamental well, a thicket of rose bushes currently without any foliage. It seemed familiar somehow, but he was certain he’d never seen it before.

  It was the large rock that April had been sitting on that provided the final clue. It was a fairly uniform earthy brown colour except for a small colony of red lichen growing across the top and down one side, giving the impression of lava flowing down a mountain.

  “Shaewal,” he murmured to himself in awe. He was standing in the fantasy world of the Green Man. At April’s sharp intake of breath, he turned to her for confirmation. Her eyes were wide with surprise and her mouth was slightly agape.

  “I’m right, aren’t I?” he said confidently, a broad grin stretching across his face. “There’s Fire Mountain and Widows Peak, over there is the Lake of Sorrows and the River Holding and those roses are the—” April’s hand reached up and trapped his mouth closed.

  “Is it that obvious?” she whispered and he recognised now that it wasn’t surprise he’d seen in her eyes before, but fear. Of what, he wasn’t sure. Slowly he shook his head and she dropped her hand only to pick it up again and pull it down over her face as if she were trying to hide behind it.

  “Hey? Come here. You okay?” he asked, gently guiding her into his embrace.

  “Not even Marie knows this is Shaewal,” she mumbled into his chest and he wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or to herself. “How did you know?”

  “April, I’ve read the Green Man books at least every six months for years now. I’ve studied the maps and I’ve
walked through the landscape so often in my imagination, I’m as familiar with it as if I’d written it myself. How could I not recognise your garden?”

  “Remind me never to bring a fan here again,” she muttered and stepped out of his arms, putting some distance between them. Lachlan bit his tongue hard to keep from saying anything else. He just couldn’t seem to get this right. No matter what he said or did, she was determined to push him away. It was really starting to irritate him.

  “Look, I’m sorry I recognised your landscape. I thought I was paying you a compliment,” he bit off angrily while bending down to pick up his coffee. “I’ll leave you to it.” He stalked back towards the house.

  “Lachlan wait. I’m sorry.” His traitorous heart skipped a beat and his legs stopped of their own accord. Still he refused to give them permission to turn around. “You just surprised me, okay?”

  But it wasn’t okay. So he continued to stand there, looking at the stone walls of her quaint little cottage. Waiting for an explanation from her was like having your chest waxed, the anticipation was worse than the actual procedure. Finally, she must have realised he was waiting for more and she began to speak.

  “I’ve been building and refining this garden for ten years. To everyone else, it’s just a mixture of random ornaments and plants scattered around like a patchwork on a quilt. It looks like a jumble initially but when you step back and take it all in, it just works.” She paused and he smiled slightly at her analogy; it sounded exactly like the type of quilt his gran would make.

  “Even Marie sees this garden as nothing more than a hobby for me, but it’s so much more than that. I come here when things get tough, or when I’m stressed or angry or sad or happy. I come here because I’ve got nowhere else to go. I come here when I need a break. I come here when all I want to do is pack my bags and go away for a weekend but I can’t because I have Marie, because I’m all she has and she’s all I have.”

  “Shaewal is your sanctuary,” he concluded, turning around to face her.

  “Yes,” she murmured and her eyes shined their relief that he’d understood. And Lachlan finally understood the earlier fear he’d seen in her eyes. He’d invaded her private space. She’d spent the last decade giving everything she had to her sister and this garden was the only thing she kept to herself.

  “I’m going to head inside,” he said quietly. Without an invitation, there was no way she’d accept him into this part of her life, so he may as well withdraw before she could reinforce her walls to a point he could never break through.