He headed towards Atangi, easing the boat over the shallow part of the reef.
The little engine pushed them through the water and the tension he’d been feeling eased.
So was it love he felt for her?
Adult love?
Enough to build a future on? Now that he finally had a future?
It was hard to tell because he’d always loved her and even when he’d cut her out of his life rarely a day had gone by without something reminding him of her.
And now she was here, back on Wildfire where it had all begun, and he couldn’t begin to work out …
What couldn’t he work out?
Whether or not he loved her?
No, that part was settled, but there were so many different kinds of love.
No, he was playing with words.
He loved Caroline, and he was pretty sure that Caroline loved him. And if that was the case they could sort out the rest.
Hadn’t they talked of love on the swing?
But had he told Caro that he loved her?
Had he actually said the words?
He tried to think but his mind went blank with shock at his own stupidity. That he, who knew Caro probably better than anyone else did, hadn’t told her how he felt.
Her whole life had been filled with the uncertainty of love. Not that she spoke of it, or wallowed in self-pity. No, his Caro just got on with things. Like being left with her grandma for a start, then boarding school, and all the times her father hadn’t come. Even Christopher kept his best smiles for his father.
So of course she’d be uncertain about his love, then taking the decisions about the mine away from her—that was how she’d have seen it—would have been the last straw.
He had to see her, tell her he loved her, that more importantly he was now free to love her. He’d start with that then sort out the mine business. He’d see the elders, go back to Wildfire.
Full of resolve, Keanu pulled into the harbour at Atangi, thinking not of the meeting but of the night ahead.
If only Keanu was here, Caroline thought as she flew over the Pacific. With him beside her she could face anything.
Was that what love was about?
Having someone to lean on, someone there to help you through the rough times as well as celebrate the good ones? She’d been stupid, reacting as she had to Keanu’s suggestion about the mine co-op. She wasn’t even sure why she’d reacted as she had.
And blaming Keanu …
Though if he really loved her, the way she now realised she loved him, wouldn’t she be the first person to discuss it with?
Even before he knew it might actually work?
Of course not, that was a petty and stupid way to think.
She’d been unfair, but the calm way he’d announced he’d sorted out the mine problem, leaving her out completely, had temporarily blocked all rational thought and she’d struck out at him.
And now, heading further and further away from him, she couldn’t tell him—couldn’t say she was sorry and agree it was an ideal answer to the problem, even if she felt that a little bit of herself had been cut off.
In her head, the mine had been as much a part of Wildfire as the house she knew was home.
But stuff had gone from it and the house had still been home.
She’d phone Keanu as soon as she was in the car on the way to the hospital and tell him she was sorry.
Tell him she loved him.
Tell him she needed him?
Was it too soon for that?
RETURNING TO WILDFIRE, and heading straight to the house to tell Caro he loved her—this mission becoming more urgent by the moment—Keanu was disconcerted to hear she’d gone.
Because she was upset with him?
But Bessie was still explaining and he forced himself to listen.
Christopher … Sydney … charter flight …
He thanked Bessie and headed for his villa. Thankfully, he could get the regular flight out of here the next day. He sat at his computer, booking a flight from Cairns to Sydney, and arranging a hire car to be waiting at the airport.
Praying all the while—for Christopher, for Caro and for himself a little—hoping he hadn’t left all he wanted to say until it was too late.
Mrs Phipps, the housekeeper, older now and somehow smaller, opened the front door of the Lockharts’ Sydney house and squinted uncertainly up at him.
‘Do I know you?’
‘It’s Keanu, Mrs Phipps. I used to come here sometimes during the holidays to play with Caroline and talk to Christopher.’
‘Keanu?’
Her voice was slightly disbelieving.
‘But you’re much bigger now. You’ve grown. Of course you’ve grown! But welcome. You’ve come to be with Caroline, I suppose. They’re up at the hospital—she and Dr Lockhart. Christopher’s very poorly again.’
He didn’t need to ask what hospital. There was an excellent private hospital just a few blocks away and the professional staff there all knew and loved Christopher, treating him with special care.
‘Thank you, Mrs Phipps,’ he said and turned away.
‘But don’t you want to leave your bag? You’ll stay here surely?’
He looked down at the bag he was carrying, having decided a taxi was easier than a hire car in a city he didn’t know well.
Would he stay here?
Would he be wanted?
He wished he were as certain as Mrs Phipps seemed to be.
‘Best not,’ he said, ‘but thanks.’
And with that he headed down the ramp, out onto the street and up the road to where the hospital was built to look out over a part of Sydney’s magnificent harbour.
With the money the twins’ maternal grandparents had left in trust for Christopher, he would always have twenty-four-hour care, private hospitals and the best of doctors and specialists. So this hospital was a special place, and he would be getting the best possible treatment here.
But Keanu’s heart quaked at the thought of Caro losing her brother. They might not have been physically close but there’d always been a special bond between them. Even as a child, if she woke with a nightmare in the night his mother would be sure to get a call the next morning to say Christopher wasn’t well.
Poor Caro.
Would she let him comfort her? Take whatever support he could offer her?
Or had he hurt her too badly for that?
Once at the hospital, he asked a friendly receptionist if he could leave his bag behind her counter, then enquired about Christopher’s whereabouts.