Another movement snagged his attention. Someone was walking towards the back of the house from under a big, bushy tree. Tall, thin, and, even from the back view, definitely male. Marshall’s stomach dived. His arms tightened in on each other, holding himself together.
Damn it. He’d thought about worst-case scenarios and taken a punt anyway. But Charlie was now a mother and there was a man in her life. Marshall could no longer deny the obvious.
‘You, Marshall Hunter, have to walk away. Now. Before she sees you and the trouble starts.’ It would be so unfair to knock on her door and say, ‘Hi, remember me?’
No way did he want to hurt her. And he surely would if he stayed now. Truthfully, he’d hoped for another fling, something he could walk away from. So now he’d have to suck it up and walk away sooner than he’d expected. Get on with life and put Charlie out of his head permanently.
But his boots remained stuck to the tarmac, going nowhere. He’d come too far just to walk away without a word.
‘Oh, buddy, did you really think Charlie was sitting around, waiting for the day you might step back into her life?’
An image of her standing outside the hospital, blinking back tears and saying the sun was in her eyes as she’d waved him goodbye, slapped across his brain.
A little bit, he had. Okay, make that a big bit.
He needed to get over it. He’d had an absolutely sensational fling with her. One that he’d willingly walked away from with few qualms. And then she’d emailed. A month after Rod had been killed. Two days after he’d visited Rod’s wife and kids and seen the anguish caused by Rod’s passing. He’d deleted Charlie’s message without reading it, knowing he never wanted to be responsible for causing her the same pain Karen suffered.
As Marshall watched Charlie and the little girl chasing around the lawn he thought of the hurt she’d been saved from by finding another man to share her life with. No doubt that man wouldn’t miss birthdays and Christmas, would be around to fix the car when it broke down or to dig the garden, take her out to dinner. Things no woman would ever get from him. The army regularly sent him off to some hellhole in a bleak part of the world where he had to be strong for his men, not worrying about how he might be letting down the woman in his life.
‘Time to go, buddy. You made a mistake coming here.’ He blinked. Took one last, long look at the woman who’d unconsciously drawn him to Taupo, saw the things his memories hadn’t been particularly clear on. The way she held her compact body as though ready to leap into his arms at any moment, except now it was her child she seemed ready to leap after. The gentle tilt of her head to the right as she concentrated on whatever the little girl was saying.
‘Get the hell out of here,’ he croaked around the blockage in his throat. Dropping back inside the car, he reached trembling fingers to the ignition. Blinked rapidly as the heat inside the car steamed up his eyes. Damn it to hell. He was too darned late.
CHARLIE HEARD A car moving slowly past the gate and glanced up. Not recognising the vehicle, she made to turn away but hesitated. Something about the driver’s profile caught at a memory. What was it about that face that stirred her? Absolutely nothing. She bit down on the temptation to go out onto the street for a better look.
Losing her grip on reality now? Wishing Marshall Hunter back into her life wasn’t actually going to bring him to her doorstep. No matter what Dad said.
Thump. Crack. The sound of metal crunching metal screeched through the air.
‘What was that?’ Charlie placed Aimee in the sandpit and raced for the gate.
‘Sounds like someone wasn’t looking where he was going.’ Her father spoke from right behind her.
The car Charlie had noticed moments earlier was now parked with its nose deep into the side of their neighbour’s SUV, the bonnet folded back on itself. ‘John’s not going to be too pleased about that. At least it doesn’t look like anyone’s been hurt.’
‘Unless the driver had a medical event,’ Dad pointed out as he strode past her. ‘I’ll go and check.’
Charlie glanced back at Aimee but she’d become engrossed in pushing a toy truck around the pit. Locking the gate latch, Charlie spun around to join her father. And froze.
The driver had climbed out of the car, cursing quietly as he surveyed the damage he’d caused. His American accent sliced into her.
‘Marshall?’ The name squeaked off her tongue as her heart slowed. ‘Marshall?’ Louder this time but just as scratchy.
He turned in her direction and took away any lingering doubt as his intense green gaze locked with hers. In that instant she saw the man she’d shared a bed with for so many wonderful hours. Her body remembered all the heat and passion, the sensual touches and her deep, bottomless hunger for him. Marshall Hunter. The man she’d spent untold hours trying to find for their daughter had turned up outside her gate. Just like that? No way.
Put it out there. Yeah, right, Dad.
The ability to stand upright deserted her. Her hand flailed through the summer air as she reached for the fence to hold onto, and her heart stopped. It must have because suddenly she couldn’t breathe any more.
‘Charlie.’ Then he was there, directly in front of her, reaching for her, gripping her arms to hold her upright. ‘How’re you doing, babe?’
How am I doing? That’s it? No I came to see you. No Crikey what a long way from good old US of A to find you. No I’m just cruising through and thought I’d drop by. Just how am I doing? Swallowing was impossible with the lump blocking off her airway. Her eyes widened as she stared at this smiling apparition with eyes that were deep green pools sucking her into an exciting world. An unrealistic world, she knew, but one she couldn’t deny while so close to him. Her arms were heating where those strong hands gripped her. Her breasts seemed to be straining to be up close to that chest she’d once fallen asleep against in the wee hours of the morning.
‘Charlie? I’ve surprised you.’ Did he have to sound so pleased with himself?
‘I’m fine,’ she managed to croak out at last. Couldn’t be better, in fact. Who did she think she was fooling? Not knowing whether to laugh or cry, she continued to stand there, stunned.
Then those wonderful arms she’d spent many hours longing for wrapped around her and tucked her against that expansive chest threatening to pop the seams of the black T-shirt he wore. That’s when she knew this really was Marshall.
Something wet oozed down her cheek. Tears? She didn’t do tears. Not once throughout her pregnancy when she wished Marshall by her side. Hardly ever during the harrowing days of waiting for the diagnosis of cancer. Hadn’t cried while going through radiation and chemo. Must be the realisation that she didn’t have to keep searching the phone records of every state in America to find numbers for every Hunter listed that was causing this leakage. ‘You came,’ she whispered.
‘Were you expecting me?’ As he leaned back at the waist to peer down at her, his mouth cracked a smile. A genuine, warm, toe-curling, Marshall smile.
And her heart went from slow to rapid in one beat. Heat rushed up her cheeks, dried her mouth so that when she spoke it sounded as though she’d sucked on helium. ‘Don’t be daft.’
‘I’m daft now?’ His smile widened, his eyes twinkled.
‘I tried to find you. Except it seemed like you’d vanished into thin air. Even the army wouldn’t help.’ But what were the odds of Marshall turning up on her patch? Should she be buying a lottery