Her Happy-Ever-After Family. Barbara Hannay
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Hanging around until the end of the school term means I won’t be leaving it all for my station manager to sort out.’ He gritted his teeth. What was a month?
Besides, it had struck him afresh in Stacy’s office that while he was fighting not to turn into his father, that was exactly what he was in danger of becoming. Just like his father, he’d withdrawn from the community and thrown himself into work on the station. Leaving Bellaroo Creek and involving himself in a cause he was passionate about would ensure that history didn’t repeat, but in the meantime he had to fight that inward impulse as much as he could. Even if it meant coming face-to-face with Lance and Fiona some time in the near future.
What would that matter? In three months he’d be in Africa.
In the meantime, he would not bury himself on Kurrajong Station with all of his bitterness and shattered dreams. He thrust his shoulders back. He’d get the chance to explore new horizons, stretch his wings, and shake the dust of this godforsaken place from his boots soon enough.
‘You know, I’d kill for a piece of butter cake with orange icing right about now.’
He blinked himself back into the present. ‘Sorry, Tess, I’m afraid the town doesn’t stretch to a bakery.’ Though rumour had it that might change in the not too distant future with Milla Brady coming home. One could only hope.
‘It doesn’t mean I can’t make a cake of my own, though.’
True enough. He opened her car door for her. ‘You think it’ll cheer Krissie up?’
‘It may well do,’ she said with a shrug, but a cheeky grin peeped through. ‘Mostly I just want one because I’m famished!’
He laughed, noting the way her shoulders had started to loosen.
‘I don’t know what it is about the air out here, but my appetite suddenly seems to know no bounds.’
‘Will you have time for a lesson on the lawnmower this afternoon? It’s in perfect working order again and I thought I might bring it over.’ It occurred to him that it might be a good idea for Tess to have company this afternoon.
‘Oh, that’ll be perfect! I’ll feed you cake, and you can teach me the fine art of lawnmower riding.’
‘Deal.’
He tried to ignore the excitement that curled in his stomach as she drove away. He was teaching her how to use the ride-on, that was all. If he was lucky it might stop her from brooding. End of story.
Cam drove the mower into the backyard. From her position at the kitchen window Tess’s gaze zeroed in on those impressive shoulders and the strongly defined muscles of his upper arms, and her breath hitched.
She leaned closer to get a better look. She fanned her face. She jumped when the oven timer dinged.
She wrenched her gaze away. It had been an emotional morning. This was a carry-over reaction from that. She shied away from the ‘emotional’ part of that thought too. It made her insides start to wobble again, and she was getting tired of wobbling, of feeling the ground constantly shifting beneath her feet.
‘Come on through,’ she hollered before he could knock on the back door.
She pulled the cake from the oven and, although she sensed him standing behind her, she set the cake on the bench and just stared at it, her mouth watering. She needed to let it cool for at least ten minutes before cutting into it.
Longer if she intended to ice it.
When she finally turned to Cam, his lips twitched as if he could read her hunger, her greed. He nodded towards it, his eyes dancing. ‘I’m impressed.’
Something in his voice…Didn’t he think that she could bake? She stuck her nose in the air. ‘So you should be.’
Then she grinned. ‘I’ve been practising becoming modelmother material since before we left Sydney.’ She tapped an old exercise book—Sarah’s recipe book—her sister’s handwriting as familiar as her own. ‘There’s a wealth of hints and tips in this baby.’
‘What is it?’
She handed it to him, and then hitched her head in the direction of the yard, grabbing her sunhat as they went. ‘C’mon, I’m dying to eat cake so the sooner I learn all I need to about your ride-on mower, the better.’
Barney greeted them with excited barks, leaping up on Tess and practically exploding with delight when she petted him. Fluffy followed behind at a far more dignified pace.
‘C’mon, you two.’ She scooped the puppy up in one hand and the chicken in her other and popped them both in the chicken mansion out of harm’s way. They proceeded to romp down the length of the run together.
Cam stared. ‘Who’d have believed it? They’ve become playmates.’
‘I’m convinced Fluffy thinks she’s a dog. I’m not sure what she’s going to do when we get more chickens.’
‘When are you planning on that?’
‘Just as soon as I do my research and know what I’m doing.’ The last thing she needed was a dead chicken or three. There’d been enough death in the children’s lives—and hers—to last them for a lifetime.
‘I’ve some books you can borrow.’
‘Thanks, but I have a couple on order at the library.’
Bellaroo Creek had the tiniest library on the planet—full of fat romance novels of which she’d fully availed herself. As part of the Greater Parkes Shire, though, the library had a huge range of books available through the inter-library loan scheme. Her books should arrive within the week.
Cam surveyed her. ‘You don’t want to accept my help?’
She recalled the heat that had hit her at the kitchen window, the silly flutter in her chest. ‘It’s not that. It’s just the library already has them on order for me.’ And she was not going to get into the habit of counting on Cam too much. Not when he was leaving Bellaroo Creek. Not when he heated her blood so quickly and assailed her senses so fully she found it impossible to keep her balance around him.
She dragged her gaze from the green promise of his eyes and gestured to the mower. ‘What do I need to know?’
He placed Sarah’s book on the garden bench Tess and the children had hauled around from the front yard last weekend, and gestured to the mower. ‘C’mon, then, up you get.’
He helped her climb on and his hand on her arm was warm and strong. Absurdly, it made her feel strong too.
‘Okay, quick overview—handbrake, foot brake and accelerator—’ he pointed to each of them ‘—and this lever here—’ he tapped it ‘—lifts and lowers the cutting blades.’
‘Right.’ She nodded. It was an auto transmission—easypeasy.
‘People generally run into two problems with ride-ons. The first is stalling the mower because they’re trying to set off too fast. The second is setting the cutter blades too low and hitting dirt. So let’s work on starting it up and moving forwards first. Ignition is right there.’ He handed her a key.
She fitted it to the ignition and it started up first go. She put her foot on the brake, let out the handbrake and then pressed down on the accelerator.
And stalled.
Cam didn’t laugh. He just reached over and pulled the handbrake on, hitting her with his heat and the scent of cut grass. ‘Okay, let’s try that again.’
Even though her heart beat faster, his calm confidence filtered into her.
‘Ease your foot gently onto the accelerator.’
She did as he instructed and this time the mower edged forward. She drove to the lemon tree before pulling to a halt again, a ludicrous flush of accomplishment surging through her. She grinned