“Can I help?”
A simple question, but one which carried so much weight. He shrugged. “I need to speak—no, apologise—to my therapist. I wasn’t open to help before.”
“But you are now?”
It would seem that way. He nodded. “This place… I don’t know if it’s the people, or the rugged beauty, or maybe it’s simply not the hospital and the city… but I feel a little like the old me. The boy I was when Dad was away.”
“I always looked up to that boy,” Amy said. “I thought he was pretty cool.”
Arthur snorted. “I was never cool.”
“To me you were.” She got to her feet and offered him her hand. “Do you still draw?”
The question shocked him, but he clasped her hand and let her help him to his feet. “I can’t believe you remember that.’
“Of course I do. You were brilliant.” She tugged his hand, pulling him back down the dunes. He embraced her praise before saying, “I do draw, but no one knows about it.”
“You shouldn’t hide your talent. You’re not alone any more, Arthur. You’ve got me and Sam, and the whole Stokes family behind you. If you need anything, all you have to do is ask.”
Tears pricked his eyes. “I don’t deserve it after the way I treated you.”
“Bullshit. You were as traumatised by our father as I was. He just brainwashed you more.” She hugged him and he clung to her, closing his eyes, fighting the tears.
“You’re too kind to me, Ames.” He swallowed as he stepped back. “But thank you.”
“I’m glad to have you back, Arthur.”
They walked in silence, side by side back to the house. Amy held the kitchen door open for him. “Come on. The kids will be back soon and they’ll want morning tea before their parents pick them up. You can help chop.”
“Sure thing.” He smiled, the happiness welling up in him and bursting forth. He wasn’t foolish enough to believe their relationship would be easy from here on, but now they had a chance. Amy had forgiven him.
She passed him a knife and a chopping board and he took an orange from the bowl.
“I’ll be back in a second.” She left the room as he chopped and when she returned, she held out a folded, aging piece of paper. He wiped his hands on a tea towel before he took it.
“What’s this?”
“Take a look.”
Carefully he unfolded it. A rough sketch he’d drawn of Amy and their mother sitting on the couch, sharing a doona, eating popcorn during one of their movie nights. He remembered the night clearly, the storm outside shaking the trees, the warmth inside from the gas heater, and the movie was a thriller he hadn’t been interested in. He’d spent the two hours trying to capture the two people he loved on paper.
Tears blurred his vision. “I can’t believe you still have this.”
“It’s one of my most cherished possessions.”
“Ames.” His fingers trembled as he placed the drawing on the table and then dragged her into his arms. “I’m so sorry.” The tears released as he held his sister in his arms.
He would be there for her always.
He would not stuff this up.
Chapter 11
Gretchen sighed as the horse yard came back into view. She shifted yet again in the saddle, her thighs and butt aching, and longed for a glass of cold water and some shade. Horse riding wasn’t her idea of a fun time, and with the day heating, she was less inclined to spend her time on the back of a dusty, smelly animal. The highlight had been watching Jordan and Cody exclaim over animals and old farm machinery which lay rusting where it had ended its useful life.
She halted her horse outside the yard and braced herself before gingerly dismounting. She gave her butt a quick rub to get the circulation moving again and then helped the kids lift the heavy saddles from the horses. Arthur and Amy weren’t around. Hopefully, they’d talked. The only reason she’d volunteered to go on the trail ride this morning was to ensure Arthur couldn’t and so give him a chance to talk to his sister.
When the horses were brushed and tied in place with a bale of hay to keep them happy, she walked with the group back to the farmhouse. Someone, probably Amy, had set up a trestle table full of fruit and biscuits, with a big cooler full of drink outside on the lawn. The kids dived on it like locusts.
