Where the River Bends

By Elsa Winckler

Kalinda Evans works for the Anglo-Boer war foundation in Canada. She's sent to South Africa to make sure everyone who lost their lives in the war will be remembered. On her drive to the guest farm in Kimberley, South Africa, Kalinda picks up a female hitchhiker and is startled when just moments later, the woman vanishes. Kalinda would be convinced she was dreaming…except there’s still a white lace handkerchief on the passenger seat.

Extreme sports enthusiast and computer game designer Zack Carter is always after the next big challenge. He’s far too busy for romance and adheres to a three-date rule, until he meets his parents’ latest guest. When she relays the story of her mysterious experience, Zack’s family shares the local ghost story. Kalinda and Zack work together to solve the puzzle of the ghost and how it all ties in with the war and the work Kalinda is doing.

As their attraction grows, Zack realizes he no longer feels the need to prove anything to himself. He only needs to prove to Kalinda that he’s more than a good time.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tule Publishing
• Release date: Jul 20, 2018
• ISBN: 9781949068610

Elsa Winckler

Elsa Winckler is ’n gewilde skrywer van liefdesverhale. Sy het al die gesogte ATKV-Woordveertjie vir romanses gewen vir Tussen jazz en rock (LAPA) in 2010, Te eenders, te anders (Satyn) in 2014, en Liefde in laslap (Satyn) in 2016. Sy woon op Bettysbaai.

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Chapter One

It was dusk. The black tarred road stretched endlessly out in front of Kalinda. She focussed on the white stripes on the road as they disappeared underneath the car. About fifty kilometers back, she’d left the national road from Bloemfontein and since then, there hadn’t been another car in sight.

Her eyes were tired; her head felt thick. Leaning forward, she adjusted the air conditioner. Cooler air wafted through the car. Maybe it would help her to stay awake.

The flight from Toronto had been long. Extremely long. She’d flown to London, caught another plane from there to Johannesburg, South Africa. At the moment, all she remembered were the long queues and the many, many people.

Her original plan was to stay in Kimberley overnight. She now realized she probably shouldn’t have changed her plans. But the urge to reach her final destination was stronger so she’d sent a message to the guest house close to Paardeberg where she would be staying for the next few days, informing them she’d be arriving earlier than planned.

She was so angry at herself. When she’d divorced Neil two years ago and fled to Canada, she’d left her past here in South Africa. And, with time, she’d convinced herself she had completely recovered from the trauma of that horrible time. But the minute she caught a glimpse of a blond guy at the airport, who reminded her of Neil, she wanted to flee as far away as quickly as possible.

When her employer, the Anglo Boer War Foundation, had asked her whether she would visit South Africa, she didn’t hesitate. Neil’s emotional and physical abuse during their very short marriage was something of the past. She never even thought of it any longer. She’d even managed to put the last menacing message he’d left on her phone out of her head. I’ll get you. Somewhere, when you least expect it, I’ll get you!

But now his words were back, haunting her every moment.

Kalinda rubbed her temple where the beginning of a headache pulsed. Surely the man in the airport couldn’t have been Neil—he only reminded her of him. But, damn it, she reacted like a terrified puppy.

Tomorrow was Monday and the sooner she did what she came here to do, the sooner she could have a whole ocean between herself and South Africa again. She was leaving again next Friday, which meant she should have enough time to finalise the task that had been assigned to her.

She yawned and shook her head in an effort to stay awake. At least her hands had stopped trembling. Maybe she should listen to the radio. She fiddled on the panel, but a scratching noise was the only sound she could find. Radio nowhere. Of course. In some remote areas in South Africa, finding a station was impossible.

Gripping the steering wheel tighter, she leaned a bit forward. The farm where she would be staying couldn’t be too far away. According to the web page there should have been numerous road signs along the way that were supposed to help visitors, but so far she hadn’t seen anything. The GPS showed she was close, but she had yet to see a specific indicator.

The tyres of the car sang on the tarred road, her shoulders relaxed for the first time since she’d left the airport. Gradually, she became aware something was amiss, though. She rubbed her one arm. Was it her imagination or had it turned cold all of a sudden?

She lifted her foot from the pedal and glanced at the temperature meter. It was fifteen degrees Celsius. That was weird. It was February, after all, one of the warmest months in these parts of South Africa. Something had to be wrong with the car. Maybe she should pull over and check.

Anxiously, she focused on the road again while trying to look for a spot where she could stop the car. She turned into a long curve, still looking for a spot when she quickly had to step on the brakes.

Right in front of her, in the middle of the road, stood a woman. Kalinda’s heart nearly stopped. She clutched the steering wheel tighter, the brakes screeched and the car shuddered to a halt centimetres in front of the woman.

Before Kalinda could take another breath, the passenger door opened and the woman got into the car. With her, a nearly overwhelming scent of citrus filled the small space around them.

Too stunned to say anything, Kalinda stared at the woman. Her passenger turned towards her. It looked as if she’d been crying. Her eyes were red and her hand opened and clutched around a white, lace handkerchief.

Are you perhaps going to Paardeberg? As she spoke, it became even colder in the car.

Kalinda tried to talk, but her mouth was so dry, it was difficult to form any words. Something very odd was going on, but she was so stunned, it was impossible to decide what exactly was bothering her.

She swallowed and tried again. Yes, I am. But who are you?

We should go; I have to find him, the woman said and looked in front of her.

Kalinda’s brain was struggling to make sense of what was happening but she started the car. Her heart was racing. Who was this woman?

She turned to look at her passenger again. Shock made her gasp out loud. Her hands slipped from the steering wheel. Cold fingers touched her spine. She blinked, looked again. There was nobody else in the car. Only… She lost her breath. On the car seat next to her lay a white, lace handkerchief.

The car was veering perilously close to the side of the tar. Afterwards, she would never be quite sure how she managed to turn the steering wheel so the vehicle stayed on the road. Paralysed with fear, she stared in front of her.

It didn’t make sense; what had happened?

She stepped on the brake; the car came to a standstill. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably. Quickly, she opened the door and nearly fell out.

Outside it was warm. Like it was supposed to be in February. Agitated, she turned around, trying to find the woman in the dusk. It was quiet. And apart from the thorn trees, the grass, and the bushes, there was nothing else.

Something cold moved down the back of her neck and she turned around quickly. Was that something moving farther down the road or was it her imagination? Her heart pounded jerkily and her palms were clammy. Kalinda moved forward and froze. There was the woman again, farther down the road.

Kalinda opened her mouth to call out, but she couldn’t make a sound. The figure moved in her direction. She was coming closer. Kalinda stepped back, fear tying her insides in a knot. The woman came closer and closer. Kalinda moved farther back, her breath was ragged, her eyes focused on the woman before her in the road.

Behind her, lights appeared and tyres screeched. She jerked around; a car was fast coming towards her. She should move, but her feet were glued to the road. Something cold moved behind her, she was shoved to the side, and she fell to the ground.

For endless minutes it was deathly quiet. Frightened and distraught, Kalinda tried to stand up but winced with pain. She’d landed on her hands and knees and had probably scraped them on the tarred road.

But at the moment that was the least of her worries.

A car door opened and closed, footsteps came closer. Her throat was dry, her heart was racing, but she staggered upright and turned in the direction of the noises while she frantically tried to figure out what had just happened.

An older man was walking towards her.

Miss? Are you okay? he asked.

She wanted to answer him, but her voice had lodged in her throat and for the life of her she couldn’t produce a sound. She nodded and motioned down the road.

Is it your car? Do you need help? the man asked.

She shook her head and swallowed. Tried to talk again. This time she succeeded. No, I don’t think so. She crossed her arms around herself and leaned forward. If only her head would clear and she could think again, she might be able to process the whole bizarre episode of the last few minutes.

Sweetheart, what happened? a woman’s voice said next to her.

Frightened, Kalinda looked up, but the woman who was walking towards them was not the same one she’d seen earlier. This woman was older and was looking sympathetically at Kalinda.

Kalinda wiped her forehead. She’d probably dreamt the whole thing; that was the only explanation. The long flight from Toronto had finally caught up with her and she’d fallen asleep behind the wheel of the car. Jet lag had her seeing things.

She tried to smile. I’m fine. I think I nearly fell asleep behind the wheel. I’m on my way to the guest house on the farm called Paardeberg.

The man laughed and put out his hand. You must be Miss Evans. I’m Zacharias Carter and this is my wife, Madeline. You’re on your way to our farm.

Wincing, Kalinda shook his hand.

His wife came forward smiling, her hand stretched out. We were in Kimberley today but I got your message that you’ll be arriving earlier. We’re always ready for guests, so it’s absolutely no problem.

Thanks, Mrs. Carter, I …

Turning her head, Kalinda looked again in the direction where she’d thought she’d seen a woman. It was nearly dark by now.

Are you hurt? Mrs. Carter asked.

Kalinda looked down at her hands, willing herself to act normal. It was only a dream, wasn’t it?

Miss Evans, your hands…

I’m fine, thank you Mrs. Carter. My hands are a bit sore, but that’s all. Her hands were shaking and she crossed her arms.

Well, let’s go get you settled in. Follow us; we’re nearly there, Mr. Carter said as he and his wife turned away.

Thanks, I will. A huge feeling of relief washed over her. Thank goodness she was not going to be the only living, breathing being on this stretch of road any longer.

As she walked back, her knees and hands were burning. She climbed into the car and stared in front of her for a moment before she glanced at the seat next to her. Was it her imagination or was there still a whiff of citrus in the air? That would mean she hadn’t been dreaming.

But where was the handkerchief the woman had left on the seat? Kalinda switched on the overhead light and looked under and next to the seat, but there was no sign of the white, lace handkerchief. She could have sworn it really had been on the seat.

Behind her, Mr. Carter pressed the horn of his car and motioned for her to follow him. With one last look at the seat next to her, Kalinda started her vehicle. She slowly breathed in and out. She’d had a dream and she’d nearly fallen asleep.

That was the only explanation that made sense.

*

Mr. and Mrs. Carter stopped in front of a huge house. Kalinda got out slowly. It was a beautiful place. It seemed as if all the lights were on inside and, along a small footpath, a line of short lamps lit the way. The house looked inviting, friendly. She tried to relax, but she was still so rattled. The dream had been vivid and real.

Grimacing, she bent to take her handbag from the car. One thing was for sure, she wasn’t going to tell a soul about her dream. They’d think she was stark, raving mad. Nobody with a sound mind would believe such a ridiculous story.

She was desperate to be on her own so she could unwind and try and make sense of what had happened. And she wanted to put something on her hands and knees. In the dim light of the car, she couldn’t really see how bad they were, but they were burning.

Mrs. Carter walked towards her. Come on in, my dear. We’re having dinner and you’re more than welcome to join us. It’s nothing fancy, but we have more than enough.

She motioned towards a few cottages next to the house. You’re staying in one of those cottages, but please do come in before I take you there.

Kalinda opened her mouth to refuse, but Mrs. Carter took her arm and chatted away as she led Kalinda towards the front verandah.

Her tummy growled and, embarrassed, she smiled. I would like to turn in as soon as possible; it was a long flight, but thanks, I’d love to join you for dinner.

Before they reached the front door, a man’s loud voice could be heard shouting from inside. No, no, no! You’re an idiot!

Kalinda stopped in her tracks. After two years she wasn’t frightened of loud men’s voices any longer, but it had been a while since she’d heard someone shouting quite so loudly.

Mrs. Carter was smiling. Sorry about that. That’s one of our boys—he’s probably watching rugby or cricket on the television. Please don’t mind him. He’s actually quite house-trained.

They walked into a large living room. A tall man was standing in front of the television, waving his arms and shouting.

Mr. Carter was smiling. Switch off that thing, Luke, we have a guest.

The man turned around. The frown disappeared immediately and laughing blue eyes smiled down at her. It was impossible not to return the smile. It had probably been some time ago anyone would have called him a boy.

This loud-mouth belongs to us, Miss Evans. This is our son, Luke, Mr. Carter said and grabbed his son playfully around the neck.

With eyes full of mischief, Luke walked towards her and folded her one hand in his.

Ow! she instinctively cried out and dropped his hand.

He lifted his hand apologetically. Sorry, I didn’t mean …

Mrs. Carter took Kalinda’s hand in hers. Shame, sweetie, I’ve forgotten you fell on the tarred road. Come and sit. Luke, get the first aid kit.

He’s a doctor, Mrs. Carter said as Luke disappeared around the corner. He’ll be able to help you.

Look, Mrs. Carter, I can do this myself, please don’t bother …

Please call me Madeline, dear. And my husband is Zacharias. What happened that made you fall? Look at your hands; they must be painful.

Well, I’m not quite sure but …

Well, well, well and what do we have here? It was a new voice.

Kalinda glanced towards the door. At first she thought it was Luke, but then ice blue eyes landed on her and she realised this was someone different. Entirely different. He radiated energy; his mere presence seemed to fill up the room. Something inside of her moved. Breathing was suddenly difficult.

Like Luke, this man was big and tall. And, like Luke, he was attractive. Impossibly attractive. He had Luke’s black hair and bushy eyebrows, but there the similarities ended. Instead of a clean-shaven face, he had what was probably a week’s worth of stubble and instead of Luke’s easy, open