The children started wailing, agitated by the sense of volatile conflict that had so suddenly erupted.
Peter sprang into action, catching snatches of the argument as he circled the Moreton Bay Fig to come around behind the threatening kidnapper.
"I'm his father. I've got every right to take Thomas with me."
"We're responsible for him, Mr Harper. His mother left him with us for the day and … "
"His mother took him from me. He's my son!"
"You need to sort this out with your wife."
"She won't let me have him but she dumps him with you people who are nothing to him. Nothing! I'm his father!"
"We'll have to call the police if you take Thomas."
"Mr Harper, this is not a good move. If you end up in jail, you'll never see your son." That was Erin's voice, gently pleading reason.
A high crazed laugh derided any reasonableness. "There's justice for you. I do nothing wrong but I lose my son and my cheating bitch of a wife just gets him given to her."
"You have to take this to the family court," Erin pressed. "You'll get a fair hearing."
"Nothing's fair!" The exploding anger cracked into spurts of tears as grief and despair poured from him. "She's told a stack of lies about me to her big-shot lawyer. I've got no chance except this. No chance! You tell my wife she's welcome to her money-bags lover, but taking my son … no … no … no … "
The tortured sobs of the man were gut-wrenching. He was shaking his head, backing away from Erin in a blind stumble.
"I'm calling the police," one of the other teachers said, a cell phone already in her hand.
"Don't!" Peter commanded as he moved in and clamped an arm around the bereft father's heaving shoulders, stopping and supporting him.
Erin lifted a startled gaze to his. "Who are you?" she asked.
She had green eyes.
Beautiful green eyes.
And Peter felt a compelling urge to answer every question in them. Except … he didn't want to throw the weight of his name around with her.
"I'm just a guy who hates to see another man reduced to tears," he said, then shot a look of incisive authority at the teacher with the phone. "Stop that right now. I'll take care of this. Calling in the police will only make everything worse."
"I'm in charge of these children," the woman argued. She was a good deal older than Erin, maybe in her fifties, iron-grey hair cut short, plump figure, and puffing herself up officiously. "I have to answer to Mrs Harper about what happens to Thomas."
"Nothing is going to happen to Thomas," Peter assured her. "Mr Harper just needed to hold his son for a few minutes. Fair enough in the circumstances, wouldn't you say?"
"He has to give him back," the woman insisted.
"Yes. And you can trust me to see that he does. I'm big enough to do it. Okay?"
The man he was holding was too shattered to put up a fight and would have no hope of winning against Peter even if he did pull himself together.
The woman protesting his interference took stock of Peter's height-well over six feet tall-his broad, muscular shoulders and powerful physique, all of which made him a formidable opponent in any arena. Harper was a relatively small man, the top of his head barely reaching Peter's chin, his far more slender frame almost dwarfed in comparison. If it came to physical force, it was obvious who would end up controlling the situation.
"Make him give the boy back now," the woman demanded.
The boy spoke for himself. "I want my daddy. I love my daddy." He flung his little arms around his father's neck and snuggled his head close. "Don't cry, Daddy, I don't like you crying."
Tearing him away from his father would be brutal. There were other, kinder solutions to this situation. "Let's take a bit of time to calm everything down," Peter directed at the woman, trying to engender a spark of sympathy. "I'm going to walk Mr Harper over to that park bench … " He nodded to where he'd seated himself earlier. "He can sit with Thomas while you supervise the other children at play."
"They're all upset now," she protested. "We should take them back to the kindergarten and settle them down."
Peter switched his attention to Erin whom he found looking straight at him, a curious wonder in her lovely, luminous green eyes. Desire hit him hard and fast. Close up to her like this, any lingering doubt about pursuing this woman completely disintegrated. The adrenaline rush in his blood, the tingling in his groin-nothing jaded about these feelings. He wanted her and he was going to have her.
"Tell them another story," he suggested, smiling to push the connection that had to be made. "You're very good at it. I was listening to you while I ate my lunch. I'm sure you can make any trauma fade away."
A twitch of a smile back. "Thank you. I think that's a good idea."
"Erin … " the other woman chided, obviously afraid of consequences with the situation taken completely out of her control.
"He is big enough, Sarah," she stated confidently, waving away any further protest.
No rings on her left hand.
"Besides, you can always call the police if things don't turn out right," she added to appease ruffled feathers.
Triumphant pleasure surged through Peter. Erin was on side with him. Whether it was over this issue-fathers who got a raw deal when it came to divorce-or more a positive response to his presence on the scene-the man he was-he didn't know, but a step had been made and he could exploit it.
Erin re-engaged with him, appealing for his co-operation. "We'll have to collect Thomas on our way back to school."
"Understood. Better make it you who does the collecting," he pushed. "Thomas is less likely to cut up rough if he's taken from his dad by the princess."
She had pale creamy skin and it suddenly bloomed with colour. Peter couldn't remember any women of his acquaintance ever blushing. He found it quite entrancing.
"All right," she quickly agreed, then turned away to gather the children into a happy little group again.
The officious Sarah frowned disapprovingly at Peter but she clucked around her flock, not quite prepared to keep fighting his plan but still fretting over being thrust into the position of trusting a stranger. Nevertheless, having to call the police and deal with legal issues was not an attractive idea, either.
Having successfully manoeuvred a second meeting with Erin and won some time for the distressed father and son, Peter virtually scooped Harper along with him to the designated park bench, encouraging his compliance with a spate of sympathetic talk. "I know it's all got on top of you, mate, but just fall in with me now and let's see if we can find a better way to get you back with your son."
There was no fight left in Harper. It seemed to Peter the man was completely at the end of his tether, almost collapsing onto the bench and rocking his little son in a kind of desperate love, having no hope at all for the future. When he was composed enough to speak, he looked at Peter with anguished eyes and said, "She told her lawyer I was an abusive father. It's not true. Not true … "
Peter believed him. Far from showing any fear of his father, Thomas was clinging to him as though he'd missed his dad as much as Harper had missed his son. The caring was obviously mutual.
"A good lawyer should be able to set that straight," he advised.
"I can't afford one. Lost my job. Couldn't give it the energy it needs … "
"What work do you normally do?"
"Salesman."
"Okay. What if I find you another job, set you up with a lawyer who's an expert on custodial rights, ensure you have the best advice on how to handle what's happening now … "
"Why would you do this?" His eyes reflected confusion, an agitated mixture of uncertainty and mistrust. "You don't even know me."
It made Peter pause for a moment to sift through his motivation. Because a father shouldn't be forcibly separated from his son? Because he hated seeing a man destroyed by a woman who took everything from him? Because of the sheer injustice of what was happening?
Or because impulse was ruling his life today!
Erin …
Connecting himself to Thomas's welfare gave him a step into her work-place, a follow-up point for pursuing a connection with her. Harper didn't know it, but he was a heaven sent opportunity for Peter to further his acquaintance with a woman he wanted.
However, the simple answer was, "Because I can. And I want to help you, Harper. I want Thomas to have his father in his life. It's important."
He shook his head in disbelief. "You're promising a hell of a lot."
"Trust me. I can and will deliver on what I'm offering."
A searching look, wanting to believe, hoping for a miracle, then the question … "Who are you?"