AT 29 (34 page)

When he steered his truck over the rise, bringing the cottage into view, he saw a figure sitting on the top step leading to the porch. He slowed the truck as it drew near, peering intently at the woman's face keen to find some recognition. When she raised her head his heart leapt with excitement. He pressed hard on the accelerator then stopped the truck with a squeal of brakes that kicked up a cloud of dust. Eager to jump from the truck, he hesitated. She did not rise to greet him. Instead, she turned away, casting her eyes downward in apparent shame. From his perch, he saw a large welt on her neck. Her hair, though brilliant in the sunlight, was disheveled. Her figure, too, was unlike his memory from the previous half-year, exhibiting a bulge at the waist.

He stepped to the ground without taking his eyes off Melissa. When he reached her side he bent down and lifted her chin. With a shudder, he recoiled in shock as her bruised and beaten cheeks were revealed in the light. One eye was swollen a ghastly blue. There were cuts across her forehead and her lips were cracked where the bleeding had stopped. When she spoke her voice lacked the cheery confidence she displayed in Melbourne.

“He may have followed me,” she whispered.

“Who?” He helped her stand.

“My husband.” She pitched forward against Aaron's chest and fainted.

Hours later, he sat by her bedside, monitoring her as she slept. He had fetched the doctor from Apollo Bay who examined her thoroughly. While concerned at the extent of her injuries, he told Aaron that they would heal with rest. He was more alarmed by the impact of the trauma on the yet to be born child. Aaron did not let the doctor see his astonishment at this unexpected revelation, nor did he acknowledge his link to the young woman, except to say she was a family friend from Melbourne. When asked what had happened, he told the doctor that she had been attacked, but he did not know when or where. As for the pregnancy, he avoided comment except to ask what he should do.

“Make her rest. If she bleeds or complains of any pain, do not allow her to move. Summon me right away.”

A week later, rested and with the damage to her face healing, they ventured back to the village where the doctor pronounced the fetus out of immediate danger. He told Melissa not to overdue and, looking sharply at Aaron, said, “Make sure she does what I say.”

Back at the cottage, Aaron gradually elicited what had happened. She lied to him about her husband in Adelaide. His name was Rolf and he had, indeed, returned home from the war. Given to heavy drinking, he resumed beating her just as he had done almost as soon as they were married before Australia entered the fight against Japan. Within months of his return, she feared for her life and left him in the night, finding her way to
Melbourne without telling anyone who might reveal her whereabouts. She had been safe for almost five years when Aaron met her.

Her mistake, she admitted, was a risky return to Adelaide. Rolf ambushed her when she traveled into the city with her elderly mother to see a doctor for a pregnancy examination. Her mother escaped, screaming for help when he carried Melissa into an alley and pummeled her head to toe.

“I fought him with all my might, kicking him hard and running off. Then I caught the first train to Geelong. From there, I took the bus to Apollo Bay. I walked here from the village.”

Aaron's heart sank even as his anger rose. Gone was the light he had fallen in love with in Melbourne. His relief at the doctor's prognosis only slightly lifted his spirits for he knew that the greater harm to this beautiful young girl could not be undone by attention to her physical injuries. On the matter of emotional pain he was an expert. Too, there was the mystery of her pregnancy. When he remained silent she took the cue.

“The child is yours,” she said, with no emotion.

“How can you be sure?” Aaron was immediately ashamed by the implication in his question. He shrank from her gaze.

“Because I know.”

In the weeks that followed, he doted on her every desire, making sure that she was comfortable, well fed and, above all, prevented from over-exerting. The child was paramount. She did not protest when he insisted on bringing her to the doctor each week for a careful examination. The birth was predicted for three months hence. Aaron was determined to keep both mother and child healthy and ready for that critical day.

Each morning he entered the fields. It was early spring, his favorite time, when he could dig into the earth and bring life to the seedlings he'd protected all winter. In the past, he would stay among the furrows all day, but now he hurried through his tasks, returning to the cottage by noon so he could prepare lunch for Melissa. In the evenings he labored at the stove, concocting soups and stews, even baking bread with the single goal of bringing her and his child all the way back to health and safety.

At nightfall, he retired to the porch, gently coaxing her to join him in the hopes that he could help her relax. Even as she regained her strength, he could see that her nerves remained shattered. He talked on and off, hoping to bring her out of the shell that had replaced her gaiety. When she wasn't looking, he scanned her face for the smile that reopened his heart in Melbourne. If this all-consuming concern for her welfare was love, he did not dwell on it. He was past analyzing his emotions. Nothing mattered to him, but her return to the lively light that made the shadows fade from his life. Alone in his bed, when he was assured that she was asleep in his mother's old room, he turned his thoughts to what he must do when their child was born. He knew nothing of fatherhood, but the prospect of caring for an infant did not frighten him. He had confidence in Melissa and felt that she would guide him in the things he should do. The issue that troubled him was far away in Adelaide. He meant to settle it. He would not tolerate any threat to mother or child.

As the days went on he tried to learn everything he could about the man she married. He was careful in his questioning, wary of bringing her more upset. Instead, he treaded casually with innocent queries about her childhood, her family and her siblings, always letting her talk as little or as much as she liked without interruption and protective
of the real purpose behind his questioning. Gradually, he brought the conversations around to her adulthood, treading gently around her marriage without pushing too sharply. If she knew his goal she never let on. Some nights she spoke freely, other times she trailed off. He did not press. In time, the picture of Melissa's life grew clearer. She grew up on a farm not unlike Aaron's. She was the oldest of seven children. She left school at sixteen and worked as a waitress, giving much of her earnings to her father. She met Rolf when he came into the restaurant where she worked just after he had signed on with the army. He and his friends had come in to celebrate before traveling to Sydney and the start of training. His brash, outgoing manner attracted her instantly, love at first sight, she thought. A whirlwind romance ensued. Within a week, only a day after she turned eighteen, they were married in a simple ceremony. He hit her a few times before shipping out.

During the next four years she heard little from him. He wrote only an occasional letter although she wrote to him every week. Sometimes, she wondered if marrying him was a mistake, but always the memory of his strong personality cast her doubts aside. At the end of the war many of the soldiers returned, but as the weeks and months went by, she never heard from him. She inquired at the local Army office and learned that he had been discharged long before with all the others. She sought out his family only to find that they knew no more than she. Nor did they seem to care. Then one afternoon, more than eight months after his discharge, he appeared at her father's farm.

“It started then,” she told Aaron, “I don't know what he expected, but it was never good enough. We found a place to live in Adelaide and I went to work tending bar. He never looked for a job. If he saw his family, I never knew. He didn't like it when I went to see mine. Mostly, he slept the days away. At night he came to the pub where I worked, looking for free beer. He hit me from the beginning.”

Aaron listened closely to all that she said, waiting for the single piece of information that would enable him to do what he intended.

As the days passed he yearned for her touch. The soft warmth of her body next to his remained vivid in his thoughts. Yet in her every expression, he sensed a deadened spirit that no longer responded to life. He was glad to have her in his home, eager to protect and nurture her, but he was stymied in his attempts to draw out the old Melissa. Alone, in the fields, he wrestled with thoughts of rejection. He despaired at his aged one-armed physique, too distant from her youth and beauty to be a contender for her heart, that the interlude in Melbourne was an aberration, never to be duplicated. Still, he could not reconcile this with the depth of passion he was certain they both found at the height of their intimacy. Surely, what happened between them was real and lasting, except for her hurried retreat at the sight of his helpless trembling in the hotel room. Since his return from Melbourne he had not been visited with another attack. More than seven months had passed, the longest period since his return from the first war. If she knew, perhaps she would be free of her fears. This, too, troubled him. He dreaded what might happen in her fragile state if another episode came on in her presence. He wondered if she would leave. Where would she go? What would become of their child?

As these thoughts tortured his emotions, other questions pushed at his mind. Her well-being mattered more to him than fear of rejection. That she was safe and physically healthy pleased him. He would do anything to make sure no harm came to her again, but he did not know how to penetrate her emotionless shell. Not once had she smiled, nor had
she initiated any conversation, other than to respond to his attempts to talk. At times, there was sharpness in her voice, even bitterness that concerned him although he understood why. If intimacy never again opened itself between them, he could accept it, but he wanted to bring her back to the lively woman he met in Melbourne. He cursed the man Rolf who had shattered her confidence. How to give it back to her?

One night he lay in his bed listening to the wind blowing in from the ocean across the fields. He cherished the sound of the leaves rustling outside. In the other room Melissa slept fitfully. He knew she was trying to find a comfortable position to rest her protruding stomach. He could hear her struggle mindful that the time for their baby's birth neared. After a long while, unable to sleep, he arose and went to the kitchen and prepared a cup of tea. Then he carried it onto the porch, taking an occasional sip. As he looked into the darkness, a measure of contentment overtook him. He had someone in his life. Even if Melissa continued to be emotionally distant, he was not alone and she was safe. His thoughts and actions no longer dwelled solely on himself. He was focused on the needs of another.

He hid his surprise when she came out onto the porch and stood beside him. Neither of them spoke. He lifted his cup in an offer to make some for her. When she shook her head he set the cup down and took her hand. Still silent, he led her back into the cottage to her room. There he coaxed her into bed and slid in beside her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, drew her close and kissed her gently on the forehead. Melissa buried her face in his chest and began to weep. Soon, convulsive sobs wracked her body. Aaron tightened his hold, letting her continue, even encouraging her in the hope that she would be freed, at last, of all that trapped her. Eventually, the crying stopped and she fell asleep. He remained awake, holding her until the sun broke the horizon.

The next day she joined him in the fields for the first time, sitting among the furrows as he worked. Nothing was said about the night before, but she opened up with hopeful talk about their child and what to do if it was a boy or a girl. Aaron let her speak, careful to hide the thrill of her chatter as it lifted his heart. She threw out names, seeking his opinion. Laura came to his mind immediately. If it was a girl it would be a nice name, he thought, but he did not mention it out loud. When the sun reached its apex they walked back to the cottage, hand in hand, to prepare lunch. There was a smile on Melissa's face, the familiar smile that Aaron had longed to see.

A week later she went into labor. Aaron helped her into the truck and drove into Apollo Bay to the doctor's small clinic. The doctor cautioned that there could be complications, especially because of Melissa's ordeal. He sent Aaron away to wait.

“You'll be summoned.”

Aaron smiled at Melissa's perspiring face then reluctantly departed for a torturous wait in a restaurant down the street.

A tiny baby boy, weighing slightly less than five pounds, was born at midnight. His heart was strong, but his low birth weight, complicated by jaundice, meant that the child would need to remain at the clinic until his survival could be assured. Of necessity, although she had come through the birth safely, the doctor insisted that Melissa remain to nourish and bond with her infant.

Aaron came to her bedside, relieved as the doctor patted him on the back and told him that if all went well, mother and child could return with him to the farm in two weeks. In the meantime, there was little to do, but watch and wait.

Over the next week he remained in Apollo Bay, unwilling to travel the short distance to the farm lest it take too long to reach Melissa's side if he was needed. He spent most of each day in her room. At times, he held the baby, curious and interested, but unable to feel the emotional bond that already existed between mother and child.

At the start of the second week, when it became apparent that the child would live, he told Melissa that he must be away for two days to make the cottage ready to bring the child home. As he spoke, he worried that this obscure explanation would be too transparent, but Melissa signaled her understanding, too preoccupied with her baby to sense the lie. Without returning to the farm, he boarded a bus to Melbourne and then a train to Adelaide.