Chapter 15

Ever so gently he turned her around. Still she wouldn't meet his gaze. And for a moment he was at a loss for words. He wanted to comfort her, to make all the pain go away, but he knew he couldn't and immediately berated himself for such a foolish thought. But he couldn't help the pull of his heart as she stood there in front of him, looking so lost and frighteningly fragile. For lack of any other way to show her what he so desperately wanted to convey, he reached out for her and softly pulled her into his arms. And it surprised him, how only now that he held her safely and securely against his chest, his heart rate started to calm down again.

It surprised her, the feeling of his strong arms around her. It surprised her that he was still here. Hadn't he heard what Tess said? Didn't he think she was right? What was he doing, running after her? Why wasn't he in there, with his fiancé?

"Stevie" he said again and she didn't know what to make of that tone in his voice.

"I'm sorry."

Finally she looked up. Sorry? What did he have to be sorry for? If anything she should be the one apologizing to him for causing that argument between him and Tess.

"For leaving you with Moira. I wish I didn't have to do that. I wish we were still sitting in there and none of this would've happened." he clarified.

She let her gaze drop again. It hadn't been his fault. None of it. And least of all the fact that the woman Stevie had considered her best friend had basically told her she was afraid of her and that she would've made a terrible mother for Rose anyway. And who knew, maybe she was right. Maybe everyone was right. Her parents, Michelle, Tess… Everyone who'd told her she simply wasn't good enough for her daughter.

"Nothing to be sorry for." she finally answered, his tense muscles telling her that he was waiting for some kind of reply. "You should be back in there" she added "with your fiancé."

In response, his arms around her tightened and his voice had a slight catch to it as he said "I shouldn't be anywhere but here. With you. And I'm not going away."

She shuddered at his words, knowing only too well that this wasn't true. Knowing that sooner or later he'd have to let go and as soon as she told him all about her past he'd go running for the hills anyway. Maybe he would've stayed earlier. Maybe. But now that she was somehow caught up in between him and Tess and now that he'd heard what his future wife thought of her, now there simply was no way he would stay.

And she'd only just noticed how the strong beat of his heart drummed against her own chest hard enough to almost make her believe it was her own. But she knew, she couldn't rely on the beats of his heart to replace those of her own, because he'd have to let go of her soon and then she'd be standing there all alone again, with her heart nothing but a cold and silent place.

Vaguely she registered him telling her that Tess had gone to town and to come back to the house with him. Her mind still mostly blank she only noticed what he was doing when he was already cradling her palm in his hand, some of the blood already dried on the cut while fresh droplets still made their way out.

"Come on, I need to bandage this up. Besides it's cold. You're shivering."

And she only now noticed that it was true. The wind had picked up and the light, white clouds that had covered the sky had been chased away by a dark blanket of grey that seemed to swallow the sunlight.

She found herself reluctant to leave his arms and return to the house, but he was adamant and as he gently took her by the arm, she figured there really wasn't much in resisting anyway. The sooner she learned to let go of Dave Brewer and his strong heartbeat resonating against her chest, the better. He deserved the truth about her, even if it was only to make him see just how right Tess had been about her. And if she lost him behind a shed or at a kitchen table at Drover's didn't really make a difference. So she let him lead her gently to the front porch of the house, but hesitated before entering. She didn't want to enter the kitchen. She knew the sight that awaited her in there: Broken china, droplets of dried blood on the floor, broken promises and a broken friendship hanging in the air. She couldn't go in there.

When she stopped walking all of a sudden, Dave was puzzled, but realized after a moment that the kitchen probably wasn't the best place for this. Of course not. He could've smacked himself over the head then and there. 'Very considerate of you, trying to drag her in there, Brewer.' He silently congratulated himself. In the end, they simply sat down on the front porch. He noticed she was still shivering and just like that night out on the paddock, he took off his jacket and placed it around Stevie's shoulders.

Chapter 16

He didn't want to leave her alone, but her hand was still bleeding and he knew the cut needed to be cleaned and bandaged. So he hurried as he went inside, quickly grabbing the first aid kit and wetting a cloth before coming back outside. She hadn't moved an inch since he'd gone inside and she didn't move an inch as he sat down beside her again and wiped off the dried blood before wrapping her hand in white gauze.

She seemed so out of reach to him in that moment. He inched closer almost subconsciously. Even though he realised that it was not a physical distance that pushed her so far out of his grasp. He lifted her head gently in his hands, to force her to look at him. She looked right at him but somehow through him, as if he was no longer present. He searched her eyes, there was so much concealed behind those beautiful brown eyes. He felt driven to find out what it was that she guarded so closely. He needed to understand, to assure her that he understood. Somehow he would have to break down that wall. If he didn't, who would? The thought of her confiding in someone else filled his heart with jealousy. He wanted to me be the one she turned to. Wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything.

Dave felt his own heart racing, felt that surge of panic rising. He felt genuine grief at not being able to connect with her, as if he had somehow lost her forever. He could see right before his eyes she was building defences to keep him out. There was no way he could knock down those walls as fast as she could build them . He could see her drowning in a pool of despair and guilt, sinking right before his very eyes. He was powerless to save her. He knew that feeling all too well, that feeling of drowning. He wanted her to know he had been there. That he had somehow made it through, that she would survive this too even though it might seem the whole world had come crashing down around her and there was no way out.

Suddenly it dawned on him that there may be a way. It would mean trusting her with something that he had never shared with anyone, not even Tess. He was reluctant to disclose secrets from his own life. It made him nervous. And it was a time in his life he would rather forget- not turn it into the centre of discussion. But he just thought maybe, if he opened up to her, trusted her, proved to her that he had suffered too, that he had made mistakes, that he had a mountain of regrets, that he was guilty too. Maybe somehow it would pull her closer to him.

He cleared his throat nervously. He often used conversation to connect with someone. He was an intelligent man and had a way with words. But he only used humour, stupid jokes, funny stories to make his point. Women found it charming. It broke the ice. He was comfortable with that sort of conversation. A serious, deep and meaningful conversation was something else. He had no experience in communicating this way with someone on such a personal level, although he had longed for it. He hesitated, unsure where to begin. He didn't want to make the conversation about him, or to discourage her from telling her story. But they were getting no where, and he knew no other way to reach her.

"I don't pretend that I understand what is going on Stevie. But I want you to know that I want to understand. I want to help. I mean that. But you have to trust me, You have to take that first step and let me in."

"You can't." She replied, smiling sadly. And everything in her eyes screamed to him 'I want you to, but you can't.'

"Can't understand or can't help?" He wanted to know.

"Both." She responded.

"Maybe I can't help. But I know I could understand Stevie, if you take a chance."

He received no answer and so continued.

"I've done things, in my past, that I'm not proud of. Things that haunt me every night as I fall asleep. Things I've never told anyone."

He had wondered if she was so far gone in her own problems to even listen to a word he was saying. But something in her expression changed as he began telling his story in a shaky voice. Her gaze softened somehow, and he knew that he had her full attention. That was the Stevie he knew, the Stevie who cared so much for her friends. She did care for him, he had no doubt of that, and he would use it to draw her story out of her.

"Tell me." She whispered so softly he wondered if he had imagined it.

He nodded "I will tell you. It's hard for me to tell this Stevie. But I want to. I trust you. ……

Truthfully he could relate to very little of the things that seemed to trouble her. He had no secret mysterious strangers from his past haunting him. He knew next to nothing of her background. But there was one thing he did have some understanding of. How frightening it was to be a parent.

"I know how much you love Rose." He began

"How do you know?"

"Because I know you. I see it in your eyes. Every day. And because that's exactly how I loved my son too."

Chapter 17

She looked at him eyes wide with surprise. "You have a child?" She repeated.

"Yeah. A son. Brian. He died when he was a baby." Dave tried to keep his voice calm. It would do no good for him to become upset.

"I'm so sorry." With these words Stevie took Dave's hand gently in her own. It was the first move she had made towards him. ""What happened?"

"It's a bit complicated." He answered finally.

"I'm so sorry Dave." She repeated, not able to find any words sufficient.

"It was my fault." Dave confessed.

Stevie wanted to tell him that it wasn't his fault. Not to blame himself. But she had no idea about what had happened to the little boy. "Tell me." She prompted him.

"He was so small, so fragile, I was afraid I would break him."

Stevie nodded, she remembered that feeling of terror when Rose had been born.

"Melissa and I, my first wife, we were so young. I didn't know how to be a proper father. I felt like it should just somehow come naturally to me. But it never did. I tried so hard. But I had no idea what I was doing. I guess maybe you can relate to that a bit." Dave knew he was getting off the track, but it was so hard to tell her what had happened.

Stevie nodded again encouraging him to continue. She knew how inadequate a new baby could make you feel.

"But I was lucky, Melissa and I had each other, we had our parents. I was never on my own in that way that you were. But it often felt that I was alone. That Brian was counting on me and me alone. I remember the way I had looked up to my own father, the way he had been my hero. The way he had let me down so badly. I felt I could never be the kind of father that Brian deserved. It scared me, when he cried. I never knew what he wanted. I felt like I should know somehow, should be able to fix it. I was so determined to never let him down the way my father had done to us.

"We never had a lot of money. I was at Uni and working two jobs just to pay the rent. I was so tired. Melissa was tired, Brian never slept properly. We fought a lot. We were young, and scared,. We were never in love. We only married when she found out she was pregnant. Because I wanted to do the right thing by her, by my son. I didn't want to be cut out of his life.

"One day I left for Uni. I had to work after classes and wouldn't be home til late. Melissa begged me not to leave. She found it difficulty home alone all day with Brian. He had been unsettled the night before. But I had been the one awake all night with him. We had argued about who would get up and attend to him during the night. It seems so stupid now. I'd give anything to hear him cry, I'd sit up with him all night and never let him go.

"Melissa and I argued that morning. I was exhausted, I hadn't slept. We needed the money, I had to work. She begged me to stay home and look after the baby. I was so frustrated with her. But you know, secretly, I was glad that I was the one who had to earn the money, that she was the one who stayed home caring for the baby. Because I don't think I could have done it day in day out. I wouldn't have known how to.

"So I kissed my son goodbye and left for uni. Not a day goes by that I don't wish I could turn back time and just change that one decision. " He said sadly. It was hard for him to admit some of these things. That he had been glad to get out of the house that day and go to work.

"What happened?" Stevie asked again.

"I came home that night, Late. I had worked a double shift after classes. I was exhausted. The house was quiet when I came home, and I remember thinking 'thank God he's asleep'."

Dave couldn't control his emotion any longer. His voice shaky as tears slid down his cheeks. Stevie gently reached for his face and brushed the tears aside.

She wanted to tell him that we all wish we could turn back time and change things. She wanted to tell him that there would be no point wishing for that anyway. Dave couldn't have watched over his son every minute of every day. Things happen. It isn't anyone's fault. But she didn't want to interrupt his story. She wanted him to finish. "Tell me" She gently prompted him.

"I came inside, had a shower, got something to eat. I didn't want to wake him you know, He had been so unsettled the night before. I didn't even look at him for about an hour. What kind of a father was I? As hopeless as my own father. Finally I went into the bedroom. Melissa was sitting on the bed holding Brian in her arms. He was so still, so peaceful, At first I didn't notice…..that he was…you know. I reached down to pick him up. He was so cold, so limp in my arms. He looked so peaceful, like an angel. He looked perfect. But he felt so cold, I can't even begin to explain it. How wrong it felt holding that cold limp little baby in my arms.

"I looked over to Melissa, she was crying and rocking back and forth and kept repeating frantically the same words over and over—'I just wanted him to stop crying, He wouldn't stop crying, He wouldn't stop, I just wanted him to stop. I just wanted him to stop crying.'"

Stevie felt tears in her own eyes. She could imagine no horror greater than losing a child. She could imagine nothing worse than coming home to find your precious baby gone like that. She was thankful that Rose had been a well behaved baby, she did not know what she would have done if she hadn't been able to get Rose to stop crying. She was thankful Rose had grown up safe and healthy. It was the first time in weeks Stevie had been grateful for anything at all. She was scared to hear the rest of the story. Scared to know what had happened to that little baby. Dave's baby. She had been young and alone and scared with a new born baby and it terrified her thinking of all the things that could have happened to Rose, the things she might have been capable of if she was desperate.

Stevie waited for Dave to finish the story. She squeezed his hand gently, and her other hand was still resting on his cheek. She had no words for him, nothing at all that could take away this pain he had suffered. Touch seemed to reassure more than words ever could.

"She just kept saying that over and over. And I told her to be quiet, I didn't want her to wake the baby. Isn't that funny? Nothing was going to wake him ever again. But it hadn't really sunk in. I couldn't comprehend it. I held him close to me, and looked down to where she was sitting on the bed. I asked her what had happened.

"She looked up at me, looked me straight in the eye. I didn't recognise her in that moment. She told me again that he wouldn't stop crying. That she wanted him to sleep. She told me that she had walked with him and read to him and sung to him and fed him and changed him and he wouldn't stop. And so she had picked him up out of his crib and shook him. Harder and harder until he stopped crying. Until he was quiet. And now he was.

He was just two months old. He was counting on me. I let him down. If only I had been there, been a better father, a better husband. .."

"No!" Stevie told him firmly. "You mustn't think like that! It wasn't your fault Dave." Stevie knew that her words would do nothing to ease his guilt. But she had to say them.

Dave shook his head sadly. "No. Brian was my son. My little boy. He counted on me to keep him safe, protect him. I failed him. Of course that's my fault. If I had been a better husband, a better father, it would neve