Chapter 47
“I’ve had a fantastic day.” Hana smiled, leaning back in the passenger seat with a contented look on her face. “I can’t wait to wear the ring.” Logan wrinkled his nose and gave Hana a cute smile, basking in a moment that still didn’t feel real. “Everyone will think we’re crazy,” she sighed. “You do know that?”
“Yep.” Logan reached for her hand. “But I don’t care. Do you trust me?” He cast her a sideways look as he changed lanes. “You believe I’m not messing around with my ex and that I’m in this for real?”
“Yeah, I believe you.” Hana looked out of the side window. “But you were right when you said it suited me to believe the worst. I focussed on my own fear of humiliation instead of letting you explain.” She glanced across at him. “There are things you don’t know about me.”
Logan knitted his brow and looked worried, contentment sliding from his face. “We agreed it didn’t matter,” he said, an edge to his voice. “We’ll learn things about each other as we go. I have a past too, Hana. I don’t think writing you a list would be helpful.”
Hana ran a slender hand over his thigh. “I believe you and you make me happy. I don’t want to worry about anything else, not today, anyway.” She watched the darkened countryside zip by, sure her rash behaviour would come back to bite her, especially when forced to admit what she’d done. A rebellious voice in her head told her not to listen to their criticism. They didn’t live alone with memories and boredom for company. They couldn’t know the poor companion loneliness made.
Hana watched Logan as he drove. He concentrated, switching lanes and manoeuvring Cilla’s tiny car homeward. On impulse, she reached out and put her hand on his thigh again, trying not to distract him.
Logan took his eyes off the road and glanced across at Hana, a worried expression replacing the look of concentration. She swallowed and sat up straight. “I love you,” she said and watched as happiness spread across his face like a breaking dawn. “I feel so grateful that another person wants my love as much as you do. But I don’t deserve it.”
Logan placed his left hand over hers and squeezed it. “I don’t just want your love, Hana; I need it. I’ve always needed it.” He sighed. “I’m afraid.”
“Why?” Hana stroked his fingers.
“I feel vulnerable,” he admitted, checking the mirrors and changing lanes again. “I should be happy but I’m looking over my shoulder for the next disaster. We need to be left alone to settle together but I suspect it won’t happen.”
Hana swallowed. “Let’s get married as soon as possible and deal with the rest one day at a time.”
“Deal.” Logan smiled at her. “That sounds like a plan.”
Using the back roads via Huntly, he drove over the Tainui Bridge, becoming watchful again as reality snaked back into their lives. That night they cuddled up on the sofa and watched a Saturday night movie on the fuzzy television. The picture seemed at its best with Logan holding the portable aerial, but his arm ached. “I can’t do this,” he grumbled, switching arms.
“Spoil sport,” Hana replied. “I enjoyed looking at you with your arms in the air. You’re quite tank for an English teacher.”
“Yeah, well my workouts don’t involve holding aerials!” Logan snorted and dropped it, diving on Hana and tickling her until she almost barfed. They tumbled onto the floor and Hana groaned as his rough chin grazed her neck.
“Stop,” she whispered. “You need to make an honest woman of me first.”
Logan snuffled in her hair. “That’s asking the impossible,” he joked. “Define honest woman.”
“Haha,” Hana retorted. “You’re just bored because the TV reception is terrible.”
Logan flopped onto his back. “I’m insulted!” He sniffed. “I don’t need entertaining. I’m not a child.”
“There’s no decent receiver at the property and I’m worried about the safety of anything fixed to the roof in the high winds,” Hana mused. “Do you watch TV much? Is it weird that I don’t know how you spend your time?”
“No, Hana.” Logan ran his hands down her side and flexed his fingers over her hip. “It’s not weird and I don’t watch much TV. We didn’t have one growing up.”
“I can get it fixed if you want. I might afford Sky once the rent comes in from the Achilles Rise house.”
“Na, I’m good. There are heaps of other things we can do to fill the time.” Logan smirked and Hana felt a steady flush creep up from her chest, staining her cheeks and making her feel self-conscious. Logan nibbled the sensitive skin on her neck. Hana shivered and he stopped, his eyes sultry with a hint of amusement. His lips felt soft and warm on her skin, but she froze at a sudden miserable flashback of the look on Vik’s face when she told him she was pregnant. She pushed herself upright.
“We should’ve talked about babies,” she said, running a hand through her hair. “It never occurred to me.”
Logan rolled onto his back and pulled her on top of him. “I told you it doesn’t matter,” he whispered.
Hana rested her cheek on his chest and relaxed. “The thought of having a baby at my age is ridiculous,” she said with a sigh. “I don’t think it’s possible.” Logan traced circles on her spine with his fingers and she lifted her chin to look at his face. “About sleeping together,” she began, her voice tremulous.
Logan placed his index finger over her lips. “I get it, Hana. You don’t have to explain. I want this to be right as much as you do. It’s fine,” he soothed. “I’ll wait for you. It’s okay.”
Neither of them saw the end of the film. The fire roared in the fireplace giving off a soporific heat and they dozed off before ten, Hana laid sideways across Logan’s body with her head on his stomach.
A metallic banging woke them, causing Hana to let out a cry as Logan leapt up with a start. “Sorry, babe,” he said, reaching back to stroke her temple. Hana picked herself off the floor and Logan held her hand. “Someone’s outside,” he hissed. “I need to check it out.”
Bleary with sleep and shaking with adrenaline, Hana nodded. Her green eyes glowed like lamps in the semi darkness. Logan turned away from her and Hana caught his wrist, feeling the familiar ache shoot up her arm. “Logan,” she hissed, her voice urgent. “Stay inside. I’ll call the cops.”
His sarcastic sneer surprised her. “Hana, by the time they drag their asses up here, these guys will be in the house or gone.” His jaw tightened and the look of determination in his face frightened her. “I’ll take care of it. It might be a possum.” He slid his wrist from her grasp and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I won’t be long.”
By the time Hana reached the front door, she saw Logan already outside on the veranda and running down the stairs. A long, black object hung from his left hand. Hana’s heart pounded, the reverberation thudding in her throat. She pulled on the door handle and it stayed closed, the catch on the Yale lock holding it fast. Her shoulders slumped at the realisation Logan locked her in. She respected his wishes and instead of opening it and following, tracked him around the property by running from room to room and staring through windows. She lost him through the gloom behind the garage, her nose pressed against the glass door onto the roof garden.
The click of the front door made her cry out and press herself against the wall. Her hands wrung in front of her, sending pain into her shoulder and testing the fragile scar tissue over the knife wound. Hana held her breath and listened.
“Hana?” Logan’s voice wrested a groan of relief from her chest and she squeaked out a reply.
“I’m here.”
His long legged stride pounded down the short hallway from the lobby to the garage stairs and he stopped at the whiteness of her complexion and the terror in her eyes. He grabbed her roughly and held her tight. She shook and freezing air rolled off his clothing. Hana pointed at his feet. “You went outside in your socks.” Her words sounded breathy.
Logan nodded against her temple. “Yeah, they’re soaked. I didn’t have tim
e to grab shoes.”
“Take them off.” Hana let go of his waist so he could bend to strip the saturated material from his feet and she felt him shivering as she supported his arm. “Leave them at the top of the stairs,” she said, her voice shaking. “I’ll wash them tomorrow.”
“Thanks.” He trembled in his bare feet and shirtsleeves. “It’s freezing out there. Must be below zero.”
“Who made the noise?”
Logan rolled his eyes. “A possum in the bins. Little buggers. They’ll have a go at anything.”
Hana released an exhale. “Maybe I didn’t put the lid on properly.” She swallowed. “I guess there are lots of them up in the bush.”
Logan nodded. “Yeah. Like at home. Dad runs possum shoots to control them. It’s up to the Department of Conservation here.” Water glistened on his clothing and Hana patted him with her palms.
“You should get your wet things off,” she said, peering into his face. “Then come and sit by the fire.” She sighed, the peace of twenty minutes ago broken so abruptly it left her drained. A possum in the rubbish was nothing, but the possibilities for the couple’s shattered nerves seemed endless.
Logan opted for a hot shower and Hana busied herself making a pot of tea in the brightly lit kitchen. He emerged in a tee shirt and shorts and drank coffee despite the lateness of the hour. “I can’t live like this anymore,” Hana said, her voice cracking with stress.
Logan sighed. “But you don’t want me to help.”
Hana put her mug on the table and examined the colourful red strawberries, deep in thought. “What kind of help is it, exactly?” She looked up and studied his face, seeing the strange light activate in his eyes.
“I told you, it’s best you don’t know.”
Hana swallowed. “Sometimes I wonder if I know you at all, Logan. It scares me.”
He exhaled through his nose. “It should make you feel safe,” he replied. “But I’ll be who you need me to be for as long as it takes.”
“What does that mean?” Hana’s senses went on red alert. “Aren’t you an exceptional English teacher with a background in accounting? Who else are you?”
“Nobody else.” Logan tipped the rest of his coffee down the sink and swilled it away with water. He pulled the dishwasher open and thought better of it. “Can I replace this old machine when I move in?” he asked, sniffing the elderly interior. “It stinks.”
Hana nodded. “Okay. But you didn’t answer my question.”
“Yeah, I did. I am who you say I am.” Logan squatted by her side. “But I’m tired and so are you. I just got engaged to the woman of my dreams and don’t intend to fight with her at this time of night.”
“You think I want a fight?” Hana’s brow knitted and Logan gave a slow blink as though gathering his patience.
“No, Hana. But this won’t end in a sensible conversation while we’re both tired and rattled.” He reached up and kissed her forehead. “I’m going to bed. Tomorrow we’ll make a plan for getting to work on Monday. Not only do we have two guys to avoid, it’s not a good idea to rock up to school together with that natty clause in your contract. Dobbs and Watson are like romance terminators at the moment.”
Hana accepted his kiss and watched him walk from the room. His muscular olive legs taunted her with what she wasn’t yet entitled to; sight of the rest of his gorgeous body. She leaned her face on her forearms fighting the sting of dissatisfaction and woke in the same position in the early hours. Her stumble to bed caused a flash of mischief at the sight of Logan’s closed bedroom door and she forced herself into her own room and face planted on the empty double bed, still fully clothed.
Hana woke late the next morning, her phone buzzing in her pocket. She groaned and rolled over, hauling it free and noticing the flashing low battery light. “Hi.” Her voice sounded sleepy.
“Is it possible to get my car back?” Cilla sounded piqued and Hana glanced at her watch.
She gasped at the time. “I’ve missed church,” she said with a sigh. “Sorry. We had a disturbance last night and I went to bed late.” Hana stifled a yawn. “I’m so sorry. I’ll organise something with Logan and get back to you.” The sound of coffee cups clinking in the background gave Hana an uncomfortable guilt sensation through her spine. She’d missed church and coffee duty afterwards.
“Are the police any nearer to catching those men?” Cilla asked, lowering her voice. “We kept your car hidden all weekend and used Bill’s ute.”
“I haven’t heard from the cops,” Hana admitted. “And the disturbance turned out to be a possum in the bins. Logan checked it out, but we thought the worst.”
“Logan lives with you?” Cilla’s tone oozed judgement and Hana blanched.
“No. But at the moment, he’s the only protection I have.” Hana’s reply sounded snippy and she rang off after promising to swap cars back. She flopped back on the bed and put her hands over her eyes.
“Hey.” Hana didn’t hear Logan’s soft knock on the door and started as he spoke to her. She sighed and rolled onto her stomach.
“I didn’t wake up in time to go to church and Cilla wanted her car back.” The bedding muffled her sentence. Logan shrugged and sat next to her. Already showered and dressed, he smelled of aftershave and shampoo. “I said we’d organise something.” He ran his hands over Hana’s spine.
“Did you say you’d take it back today?”
“No.” Hana sounded sulky. “But I should be there, anyway.” She pushed herself into a sitting position and then flopped forward onto Logan’s stomach. “They’ve always been kind to me. Maybe we should just do a proper wedding later.” She felt Logan’s stomach tense beneath her cheek. “They’re good people. I’ve always been able to count on them. Even when the lawyers froze our accounts after Vik’s death, they brought food and lent me money.”
“That’s nice.” Logan’s reply sounded lame, even to himself. “Was that Allen?”
Hana shook her head. “No. He came a few years ago. The previous pastor was a good friend of Vik’s.” She sat up, her brow creased. “What will we do about getting to work? And how do I take Cilla’s car back to her? Returning to the same location is dumb.” Hana got into her stride. “How many more cars can I borrow?” she complained. “Will I have to disguise myself forever until they get bored and go away?”
“No, babe,” he reassured. “We’ll get it sorted out somehow.” He ran a gentle hand around her neck and pulled her back onto his stomach. “Just trust me,” he said.
Logan nipped out on an errand and Hana pottered around, tidying and cleaning up. Unlike his mistress, Tiger seemed calm and settled, laying in spots of sunlight and moving onto the next one as they winked out. “You look happy, old man.” Hana stroked his head and he yawned. “Don’t know why you made all that fuss about coming here.”
Putting away a screw she found loose on the floor, Hana opened the drawer in the hall table. Her fingers clasped the long, black object she saw in Logan’s hand the night before. The heavy, six-cell Maglite looked brand new and her wrist protested at lifting it. She remembered Bodie’s words after police training college as he explained how a pop on the head with a Maglite could be classed as accidental, whereas drawing his baton engendered a heap of paperwork. Hana closed the drawer on the shiny object, both afraid and emboldened by Logan’s serious desire to protect her.
Logan arrived home, two plastic wheelie bins sticking out of Cilla’s tiny car. The trunk lid wobbled as the car mounted the drive. “I went to your favourite shop,” Logan said. “The shop owner says hi.”
Hana ran her fingers over the green plastic. “How will this help? Do they fall over more quietly?”
Logan rolled his eyes at her. “No, you egg! We’ll keep the rubbish in the garage inside these and just put the bags out on bin day. We’ll drive them down to the road as usual.”
“What will you do with the metal ones?” Hana asked.
“I’m gonna drill holes in one of them and make it into an incine
rator.” Logan looked pleased with himself. “There’s a sign on the Waipa Bridge. Open fires aren’t permitted within one kilometre of the bush so we can burn in this.”
“Cool.” Hana found his enthusiasm infectious, following him as he walked to the passenger seat. “I filled up the car and gave it a clean out too. But I also got something else from the shop.” From the front passenger seat, Logan produced a long, wide plastic bag, containing rolls of paper. “Close your eyes,” he said, “no peeking!”
He placed one of the rolls into Hana’s open palms, watching as she opened her eyes. “I’m scared you won’t like it now,” he said, chewing his lower lip. Tiny cream flowers swirled around a pretty green background, the same colour as the voile on the new four-poster bed. Punctuated now and then by a small pink rose, the effect seemed stylish and calming.
Hana beamed. “Wow. I love it. Where did you find it?”
“That shop you love so much.” Reaching into the car again, Logan produced two five-litre cans of cream paint which picked out the tone of the flowers. He studied Hana’s face for a reaction and sighed with relief when he saw she approved.
“It’s amazing.” Hana’s face held pure delight. “I couldn’t trust Vik to choose colours,” she gushed. The look on Logan’s face wiped the smile from hers. “Sorry.” She pursed her lips and stared at the ground. “I shouldn’t compare you. You’re nothing like each other.”
Logan’s jaw worked against his cheek. “It’s fine, Hana. I’m more worried that you’ll think I’m taking liberties. You own the house, not me.”
Hana’s eyes widened. “Does that bother you?”
“No.” Logan stroked her cheek. “Not at all. But I don’t want to overstep the mark.”
“You won’t.” Hana’s eyelashes fluttered. “Won’t it be yours when we’re married, anyway?”
Logan’s laugh disturbed the birds in the bare kowhai trees. “No, Hana, it won’t. I’ll never lay claim to anything of yours. That’s between you and your kids.”
“But won’t we share?” she asked, suspicion growing in her eyes. “Isn’t that part of marriage?”
“Maybe.” He caught her around the waist, his grip firm. “You can have access to everything of mine, wahine. But I won’t come between your children and their legacy.” He turned her body and pointed her at the porch. “Grab the wallpaper. I thought decorating might distract us from our return to work and reality tomorrow.”
Taking an opposite wall each, they painted Hana’s bedroom using the pads left over from the kitchen. They raced each other, competing to finish and chatting as they covered the hundred-year-old walls. Hana lifted her pad and contemplated the wall behind the headboard. “This is the worst,” she said. “I couldn’t get rid of all the dents.”
“Do the feature wall there,” Logan suggested, brushing cream paint around the glass panes in the wooden doors to the balcony.
Hana screwed up her face. “It seems such a waste to hide gorgeous wallpaper behind the four-poster bed. Why don’t we do the opposite wall too, providing there’s enough?”
Logan nodded and went back to his painting. “I bought five rolls. With the tiny print pattern, the shop owner figured it shouldn’t use up too much paper in the matching process. And look, if we run out, I’ll go back and get more.”
“Yeah.” Hana looked from one end of the room to the other. “I like that idea. How are you at wallpapering?”
Logan shrugged. “Dunno. Never done any.”
They stopped for lunch while the paint dried on the walls and skirting board. Later while Logan gave them a second coat, Hana painted the architrave and skirting board around the walls she wanted to paper. She stopped as the natural light disappeared and the overhead bulb created confusing shadows against the painted surfaces. “I’m so tired.” She yawned and face planted into her pillows. “Can we stop now?”
“What about the ceiling?” Logan looked up at the fresh plaster in two corners and Hana groaned.
“I can’t face it,” she grumbled.
Logan pressed on until after eleven o’clock that night, giving the ceiling a coat of paint with the pad. He struggled to paint around the sleeping Hana. Twice he moved the bed and she didn’t stir. Washing out the brushes and pads in the kitchen sink, he ate toast and jam and took a phone call from his father. Logan closed the kitchen door and kept his voice low as he gave instructions on a hotel matter. He returned to the master bedroom and finding Hana still asleep, covered her with a blanket and turned out the lights. He left the bedroom door open to allow the paint fumes to disperse and cracked the security latch on the high window in the kitchen. The through draught chilled the house but expelled the fumes.
Pete rang him late, whining about working with Caroline. “I’m sick of her,” he griped. “She’s real mean. Do something.”
“She’s the least of my problems, bro’! And she’s not my responsibility. See Angus if you can’t cope.”
“Can’t cope? Who can cope with her? She keeps asking after you and wants to know where Hana’s gone. On Friday she said Hana’s gone off sick with stress because she knows she’s gonna lose to her. She wants you back mate. I don’t see her leaving without you.”
Logan sighed. “She’ll have to, Pete. Even the sight of her makes my head ache.”
“Yeah. After what she did, I’m surprised she’s got the guts to walk back into your life. Geez, she humiliated you.”
“Thanks, Pete.” Logan gritted his teeth. “In case I forgot how embarrassing it was.” He lay back against his pillow and rolled his eyes. “I need to go. Hana’s asleep.”
“What? In the bed with you?” Pete sounded aghast. “I’ll just tell Caroline that. She’ll get the message.”
Logan sighed. “No, Pete. Hana’s in her room and I’m in the guest room. And don’t give Caroline more ammunition against Hana. The trustees will fire her.”
Pete tutted. “Roddy from history quit on Friday. He’s dated Claire from the art department for years. He said she didn’t want to get married after her messy divorce and they agreed at the start they wouldn’t. They bought a house together last year. Watson went after Claire over it and Roddy said one of them needed to leave and he can get work elsewhere.”
“Geez,” Logan sighed. “That sucks.”
“That’s not all.” Pete made a squelching noise and Logan winced, not dwelling on the possible reasons for the sound. “They’re still going after her because she’s living in sin with him. It’s a bad example to the boys.”
“More reason not to tell anyone I’m here with Hana.”
“Yeah, too right.” Pete sneezed. “When are you coming home? This place got dusty real fast.”
“Clean it, lazy git!” Logan exclaimed and then lowered his voice. “I need to go. I’m tired.”
“Okay.” Pete paused. “You’re good on legal stuff. Can the trustees do this to staff?”
“Yep.” Logan sounded certain. “It’s in their contract and it’s a private school. Someone could take it through the courts but who’s gonna do that?”
“You.” Pete whooped like a child. “You’re our champion.”
“Whatever!” Logan scoffed. “My contract’s only for a year and you know that. Fight your own battles.”
“Hana doesn’t know that, does she?”
Logan sat up in bed. “I hope you’re not threatening me, mate. Because you know how that will go for you.”
“No, no.” Pete backtracked, forcing a lightness into his tone. “How is Hana?”
Logan ran his hand over his face. “Jumpy. Real jumpy. She’ll be fine. We’ll get it sorted.”
“You gonna break someone’s legs, brother?” Pete let rip with a wicked raucous laugh and Logan winced.
“If you breathe a word to anyone, I’ll break your legs. You know I’m not joking, man!” He heard Pete gulp and suspected he inspected the odd kink in his left shin, the result of a fight they had in fifth form. Logan peered down at the bent bone in the middle finger of his le
ft hand. Pete started it and he finished it. It seemed ironic the fight was over Hana, or the unnamed girl on the train.
“You still haven’t forgiven me for that yet, have you?” Pete griped.
“You haven’t apologised!” Logan’s voice betrayed tiredness and irritation.
“Fine, I’m sorry,” Pete conceded with obvious reluctance. “I know she’s real now. But obviously I didn’t know then. It sounded so far-fetched, you saying you’d seen this girl on a London train and she was your soul mate.”
“You done?” Logan’s temper flared at the memory of old hurts and he wanted the conversation over.
“How will you get to work undetected?”
“Not sure yet.”
“And what about Watson and Dobbs? If you keep arriving at work together, they’ll come after you. The trustees will fire your ass.”
“You think I don’t know that? Stop winding me up!” Logan hissed.
“Will you talk to Caroline then? Tell her to stop picking on me.”
“No. I’m not going near her. I promised Hana. I don’t break my promises.”
“Yeah, bro’, I know. I know.” Pete’s voice softened and Logan terminated the call. Marriage would legitimise their relationship in the eyes of the board members, but the problem of the two men stalking Hana remained. Logan reached for his phone and then lay it down again. She said no and he wished to respect her desires, however hard it might be.
Caroline’s continued presence unleashed a whole other set of issues and he didn’t know where to start with those. Logan turned over in the single bed with a dreadful sickness sitting in his stomach. Sleep felt a long way off.