Ember Flowers Read online

  It was early morning, but Jean had said she was an early riser. It seemed as though she was a morning person. She should probably be courteous, the woman had been kind and supportive. The whole experience had been..humiliating.

  The gardener’s card was in her purse. She pulled her phone out of her handbag and sent a quick text, committing the number to her contacts list.

  Jean,

  Thanks for being so understanding yesterday, and for your support.

  Jo.

  A quick tap, hitting send. She wasn’t expecting a reply, though after a few minutes, the soft ping got her attention.

  Jo,

  Anytime. Sorry things are rough for you.

  Are you OK?

  Jean

  The Officer checked her watch, noting Jean must be getting ready for work.

  Yes. Getting better. Your support helped a lot. You have to understand he’s not a bad man, despite what you saw.

  Jo.

  A pause before she received a response. Her brow arched.

  Jo,

  I still want to run him down with my car. Don’t tell the police. Oops.

  Jean

  Jo chucked softly, it prompted another message. She sent it without thinking.

  Jean,

  With the way your car looks, a human sized dent wouldn’t be noticeable. You would just call it ‘character’.

  Jo

  She frowned after sending that last message. It felt a little too relaxed, too comfortable for their blossoming friendship. She quickly got a reply.

  Jo,

  What are you doing next weekend?

  Jean

  She stared at the message for a long time, not sure how to reply, whether she did want to reply. The older woman was just being kind, supportive of her when she saw her at her most vulnerable. That was all. And she was just being nice, thanking her. That was it. That’s all it was. Right? She wasn’t encouraging anything, the older woman was just a friend. She needed more of those, they had dwindled in the last couple years.

  Jean,

  No plans. Why?

  Jo

  Her heart was thumping in her chest. It was stupid. A ping of a response. She held her breath, unlocking and reading it.

  Was thinking of taking the horses out. You still feel like riding?

  Jean

  ***

  The phone sat like a brick in her pocket. She had yet to respond. A busy day, mostly reports and paperwork. She ignored some emails, answered others. Eventually, evening came, she had a quick phone call with her little girl. Her mother was looking after her again while the dust cleared.

  Jo turned the phone over in her hands. Long fingertips tidied blonde hair. She sighed, deciding to err on the side of caution, and at least get more information before giving her an answer. She was amongst the last to leave the station, it was unmanned at night.

  Jean,

  What did you have in mind?

  Jo

  A couple of hours later she received a reply, her friend was probably busy driving. Tonight Joanne was staying with her mother, the house was too quiet. She was just exiting her mother’s guest room when the phone pinged softly at her hip. Her little girl had fallen asleep. She closed the door quietly, pulling the phone out of her pocket.

  Jo,

  My property has some amazing views. Was going to take the horses out, maybe camping. Interested?

  Jean.

  Camping. She hadn’t done that since she was a kid. When Dad was still alive. She smiled to herself. She’d have to buy a tent.

  Chapter 11

  She was easy enough to track down. Taking him by surprise like that, was unacceptable. And the way she looked at Jo..filled him with unease.

  He watched from across the road, she was talking to a younger guy, he was patting her on the arm before walking away. He had a laptop, work boots. Boyfriend maybe? Doubtful. Colleague. They had the same shirt.

  He’d run Jean’s details as though she were a suspected felon. The decal on her car had given him the address of her office.

  Joanne hadn’t always looked at him like that. He couldn’t remember exactly when it started. His father would have disapproved. Owen was trying, but it was so hard.

  When they met, Joanne was a firecracker, she still was, sometimes. It took him a long time to even get her to smile in his direction. She was standoffish, guarded, maybe her disciplinarian mother made her that way. He hated the old dragon, much as she hated him once she found out the truth.

  They’d been in love, fuelled by passion for the job and passion for each other. Gotten married. She was a beautiful bride. Then times got harder, he’d been posted elsewhere. They didn’t see each other as much, each coming home exhausted and stressed. When Jo fell pregnant, things were already strained, his devotion to the job only made things worse. He pined for the recognition a promotion would bring. Detective. Yet it always seemed to slip from his grasp, blocked with some arbitrary reasoning along the chain of command.

  Despite that, things were good, for a while. He was doting, loving, looked after her, put up with her sass, knowing it was wild hormones talking. Tried to spend as much time with her as he could, though sometimes, he knew she missed him.

  When his little angel came along, he was never more in love with her. For a while she stayed home and they played happy family. Then Jo went stir crazy and went back to work part time. The old dragon looked after his girl during the day.

  He still didn’t forgive himself for treating her like that. But it seemed every time, he couldn’t stop it. Seeing his actions as an observer, not in the moment. Left regretful afterwards. Didn’t know what came over him. Possessive, obsessive. Flowers and chocolates couldn’t make up for it. They ended up unopened in the trash. He went and talked to someone, his colleagues wouldn’t have understood.

  He tried to change, finally, he knew he’d crossed the line.

  She left. He’d slapped her, thrown her against the fridge and his little girl had seen. A finger pointed in his face. A mother’s protective instincts. “Don’t you come near her!” “Don’t you dare!” Her grey eyes were cold, like mercury.

  They’d tried to patch it up since. But she had a long memory. He hated himself, it only made him miss her more. He saw less and less of his little girl. Soon she’d be two, he didn’t want to miss her birthday. She’d served him papers, he didn’t want to sign, sure there was something else they could do. He still loved her, desperately. That hadn’t changed. He wasn’t sure if she felt the same way. Sometimes he thought he saw a glimmer, other times, it was just going through the motions. Strangers.

  He’d gone to the marina knowing she’d be there early. Jo was precise, punctual, controlled. She’d rolled her eyes as he’d approached. Looked like she wanted to drive away. It started out civilised, pleasantries, they were both attending the same event. It was acceptable for him to be there.

  Somehow, things dissolved, and he was grabbing at her. Desperate to make her listen.

  Dark glasses watched his side mirror. He saw the brunette get into her car. Wondered if he should follow. Probably no point. Jo wasn’t a queer. He knew that for sure. But he didn’t like her sniffing around. He’d keep tabs. Make sure she stayed away.

  Chapter 12

  She followed her GPS, it led her up a winding road, vineyards, paddocks brittle and golden. Her sedan was tinged brown with the spray up of earth, wheels coated in the reddish dust.

  Turning into the driveway she felt a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. Curiosity, trepidation, it was quickly dismissed. A beautiful home, seated at the top of the gradual incline. Old world charm, a porch wrapping around, and a thready wisp of smoke coming from one chimney. She pulled up in front of a bed of red roses and shorter cottage plants. Two horses looked her over from a nearby fence, leather saddles slung over the railing.

  As she stepped out of the car, a face appeared at the front door. Jean was wearing her customary denim and a well-loved cotton shirt. A smile as she
welcomed her in. Jo looked around, it was newer inside than she imagined from the outside. Renovated, polished. A stairwell by the entry went up to another floor. They walked together toward the kitchen, through a wide hallway. Glancing to her left, Jo saw the lounge room. A working fireplace and a leather recliner. It explained the smoke when she pulled up. The house smelt like baking bread and old wood. A set of glass French doors led out to a beautiful view.

  A dark red glazed kettle lifted off the stove, Jean poured her some tea. Remembering she took one sugar. They sat together at an oiled wooden table, large earth coloured tiles underfoot. She kept looking at the view over Jean’s head. Eucalypts, pale limbed in the distance, snaking over a golden hilltop, gravel and dirt trails winding through. She could smell the fresh air, the banksia and honeysuckle.

  The brunette smiled. “Found your way here OK?”

  The voice got her attention. “Yes, used my GPS. Not too far out of the way.”

  “Good.”

  She sighed, her eyes averted. “Jean, about last week..”

  A shake of a dark head and a soft pat on her wrist. “No need to explain. I asked you over so you could forget about it for a while. Sound OK?”

  Jo frowned. She still wasn’t sure about her, it was rare she encountered someone who wanted nothing from her.

  As if reading her mind. “You’re having a tough time, I just want to help.”

  After pulling a couple of thermal bags out of the fridge, lined with ice, containing their food, and a few other supplies. They made their way outside. Jo had wanted an idea of what to expect, she was like that. Preferred to plan and anticipate. Jean told her that they would ride until the early evening, find a suitable camp spot, which were frequent, and then relax. Sounded fine to her.

  The horses responded eagerly to treats, coming over the fence at the sound of Jean’s voice. Jo watched them with a grin.

  “Ridden much before Jo?” Looping a rope halter around a deep bay neck.

  She came closer to the fence, tentatively reaching out to rub a velvet nose. “Only a little as a kid. Treat me as a beginner.”

  Another smile. “It’s not difficult, and these two aren’t feisty. Come here, I’ll show you.” The tanned arm held the gate open enough for the blonde to get through. Mounting up behind the security of a fence might be better on her nerves.

  Jean pointed to each horse. “The bay is Mackenzie, she’s older than Georgia here.” A little rub along the neck. “I’ll saddle them up, then you can jump on ‘Kenzie, and I’ll adjust the stirrups for those long legs of yours.”

  The Sergeant smiled. “Anything I can do to help?” She watched the hooves settle in the dirt, the beasts shifting their weight over the dry grass. She forgot how big they were.

  “No it’s fine, won’t take long. I’m glad you’re not wearing white Jo, this could get messy.” Imagining the Officer covered in dust.

  The policewoman smiled. Glancing down at her figure hugging jeans and polo.

  With both animals saddled up, Jo’s tent retrieved from her car, and saddlebags looped over where space permitted they were ready to go.

  Knowing Jo was unsure. Jean offered to help calm her nerves. “I’ll hold her if you want to take it slow?”

  A raised brow over grey eyes. “Probably a good start.”

  Her sneakered foot slid into the stirrup, and a long leg swung over. Jean had a firm grip on the reins. ‘Kensey was far too pre occupied with snuffling in her pocket to go anywhere.

  “That’s it. OK, going to adjust your saddle.”

  She instructed Jo to hold onto the reins, moving around past the broad withers to get to the strapping. Jean patted on the blonde’s calf to ask her to move. She made the leather belts longer, giving her more length. Doing the same on the other side. Jo settled her feet and felt more secure.

  “Better?”

  “Yes. And now?” Feeling a growing confidence.

  A snicker. “Pushy thing aren’t you?”

  It made Jo pout, it was pretty cute. Jean cleared her throat. “OK, I’ll stay down here for a moment till you get your bearings. Just walk her around a little, get used to the feel of the saddle. There’s the horn at the front for stability. Squeeze with your thighs to go faster, tug on the reins to slow down.”

  A nod and she was walking slowly around the paddock. The bay mare wasn’t fazed, and complied without resistance. After a few minutes, Jo looked settled enough to begin their ride. Jean smiled as she pulled herself onto the sandy coloured dun, its black tail swishing away flies and heat.

  ***

  It appeared as though Jo was a natural rider. Leather reins sat looped over the animal’s neck, held in the blonde’s hands. Ever so often Jean would offer a pointer, but Jo was quick to learn, only needing to be told once.

  “You’re a good teacher Jean..” She looked out over the hills as they slowly climbed higher, hooves clopping softly over the grass and dirt. “Very patient. Wish some of my instructors were the same.”

  A shrug of the older woman’s shoulders. “Maybe you’re just a good student?” A lizard skittered over warm boulder as they passed.

  The trees thinned out in density as they rode through the afternoon. More clearings, rolling tree lined plains. Jean pointed to rare instances of scorched earth. Lightning strikes had burnt dry grass, luckily she’d been prepared.

  “You worried about fire?” A concerned look behind Jo’s sunglasses.

  “Yes and no, dug out the firebreaks earlier, they do controlled burns out here when the grass gets too high.”

  A nod of agreement, Jo didn’t know much about the countryside. She’d grown up in the suburbs.

  The sun was getting lower over the trees, and their horses likely needed a rest. Jean knew of a nice spot some twenty minutes ahead. Jo was looking forward to cool water and stretching her legs. Eventually, a clearing came into view, atop a gradual plateau. Straight ahead through the trees diverged a valley below, all golden and red in the setting sun, it looked beautiful. Protected from the wind, leaf covered ground softened with grass.

  “This should do.”

  Jo was still mesmerised by the scenery, having taken off her shades to look around. She looked down and Jean was holding her reins, having already dismounted.

  “Just swing your leg over Jo, like in reverse. It’s OK, I’ve got her.”

  The Sergeant did as she was instructed, one hand rested on the shorter woman’s shoulder as her feet touched the ground.

  ***

  A crackling of dead wood, and the smell of crushed bark and sweetness of old blossoms drying with the beginnings of a warm summer.

  Grey eyes looked honey coloured with the reflection of the flames, a tanned arm poked the fire across from her with a piece of broken tinder. Slivers of vivid ash and spark circling up with the thin plume of smoke. Jo sat on a fallen dried out log, whilst Jean sat on her sleeping bag. The fire was more for comfort and light, the evening air was warm enough this time of year.

  “Jean, thanks again for bringing me up here, can’t tell you what a relief it is to get away.”

  An honest smile. “You’re welcome, been a while for me too. Funny how it all tends to build up on top of you? Takes coming somewhere like this to realise.”

  Jo nodded, the twitch of her brow showed she was still a little stressed, still a little anxious, a lot on her mind. “It’s so quiet here.”

  The older woman turned, popping open the cold cube of insulated foam, ice raspy at the bottom. She fished out a can of low cal soft drink. Motioning it to the blonde.

  A shake of her head and a smile. Feeling slightly more adventurous. “Got any beer in there?”

  Jean’s hand swished around in the cooler, pulling out a slender glass neck. She handed it to her friend across the campfire. An indulgent smirk as the item was received.

  “Been a while, I don’t usually drink.” A twist and a hiss as the beer uncapped.

  “Worried someone will jump you?”

  “Occupational h
azard.” Said with a frown of the cupid’s bow.

  A dark raised brow and a cheeky grin. “Don’t worry, no one out here but me, and ‘Kensey isn’t the brawling type.”

  A soft whicker from somewhere in the strand of trees nearby almost seemed like an indignant rebuttal.

  Her friend only smiled, studying her hands.

  “Jean?”

  Hazelnut eyes met hers. “Yeah?”

  Her friend seemed hesitant. “You mentioned you were married once..what happened?” Thinking of her own difficult times with Owen. Sometimes it dominated her thoughts.

  A soft breath petered out over her lips. “Widowed, would be more accurate.”

  She regretted it as soon as she’d asked. “Oh. Forgive me I’m sorry.”

  Her knees shifted on the crunchy leaf litter and sleeping bag. “Long time ago Jo, it’s OK.”

  The blonde looked at her again, curious but worried about overstepping her bounds. They’d only known each other a month or so at most. It was a very personal question.

  A fingertip brushed chocolate wisps out of her eyes, a sadness. “You know I used to sail right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Before I bought the land, I had a yacht, lived by the bay. It was a little gift to myself, having the business grow for a little over a decade. Felt right at the time. ‘Tash, my wife..” Her voice trailed off a little, before picking up again. “..Natasha..we were out past the harbour, few miles out. Sea was calm as glass.”

  Her tongue flicked behind her teeth, lips became a little drawn, her friend listened compassionately. It was no surprise to Jo that Jean had spent her life with a woman, though the brunette had never said so in words.

  “Anyway..’Tash had been getting headaches. Been having tests. One morning..when we went out on the reef I came down into the cabin and she was..” Her voice crackled, a momentary hitch.