Her Happy-Ever-After Family: The Cattleman's Ready-Made Family / Miracle in Bellaroo Creek / Patchwork Family in the Outback

And as he watched them Cam thought that maybe it did.

‘Where do you live, um…Mr…?’

He gazed down at Krissie with her blonde curls, and her big brown eyes identical to Tess’s, and recalled the way she’d jumped when he’d first spoken. Smile. ‘You can call me Cam,’ he said, making his voice gentle. ‘If that’s okay with your auntie Tess.’

Tess nodded her assent, but he was aware that she watched him like a hawk—or a mother bear hell-bent on protecting her cubs.

‘You can see my house from here.’ He led them towards the line of Kurrajong trees at the side fence and gestured across the acre field to his home beyond.

‘Wow,’ Ty breathed. ‘It’s big.’

It was, and the sandstone homestead was a point of local pride. ‘My great-great-great-grandfather was one of the first settlers in the area. His son built that house.’

‘Is it a farm?’

‘It is. It’s called Kurrajong Station because of all the Kurrajong trees. It’s large for these parts at six thousand hectares.’ It wasn’t a boast, just pure fact.

‘What do you farm?’

That was Tess. He eyed her for a moment. He sure as hell hoped she didn’t have any interests in that direction. ‘Cattle, sheep and wheat mostly.’ And just as soon as he had his forty hectares back he’d be branching out into canola. Diversification would ensure Kurrajong’s future. And once that was all in place, he could leave.

For good.

‘Are we allowed to play in that field?’

Ty glanced up at him hopefully. Cam bit back a sigh. He didn’t have anything against the Save-Our-Town scheme in principle. He mightn’t want to live in Bellaroo Creek any longer, but his station’s prosperity did, to some extent, hinge on the town’s ongoing existence. It was just that in practical terms…

So much for his jealously guarded privacy.

Still, they were just kids. They wouldn’t disturb his peace too much. And kids would be kids—they’d want to explore, kick balls, run. Besides, he sensed that these kids needed more kindness than most. Rather than declare the paddock out of bounds, he found himself saying, ‘You’d better wait till you’ve made friends with my dog first.’

Ty’s face lit up. ‘You have a dog? When can we meet him?’

Cam shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced at Tess. ‘Tomorrow?’

She nodded. ‘Excellent.’

Her cap of dark hair glowed in the sun and her eyes were bigger than they had any right to be. He gave himself a mental kick and turned back to the kids. ‘I want you both to promise me something. If you see a paddock with either cows or big machinery in it, promise you won’t go into it. It could be dangerous.’

They gazed up at him with eyes too solemn for their age and nodded.

Lord, he didn’t mean to frighten them. Smile! ‘We just want to make sure you stay safe, okay?’

They nodded again.

‘And you shouldn’t go outside your own yard or this paddock without letting your auntie Tess know first.’

Tess watched Cam as he talked with the children. His initial gruffness apparently hid a natural gentleness for all those smaller than him. Not that there’d be too many who’d be larger! The longer she watched, the more aware she became of the warmth stealing over her.

She shook it off. She wanted this move to be perfect. She wanted to believe that everyone in Bellaroo Creek would have Ty and Krissie’s best interests at heart. She wasn’t going to let that hope lead her astray, though. Too much depended on her making the right decisions. She swallowed, her heart still burning at the children’s reactions when Cam had startled them—their instinctive fear and suspicion.

She gripped her hands together. Please, please, please let moving to Bellaroo Creek be the right decision. Please, please, please let the children learn to trust again. Please, God, help her make them feel secure and safe, loved.

She relaxed her hands and crossed her fingers. After the initial shaky start, it certainly looked as if the kids had taken to their laconic neighbour. After all, not only did he know how to ride a horse, but he had a dog too. True hero material.

Her gaze drifted down his denim-clad legs and a long slow sigh built up inside her. He could certainly fill out a pair of jeans nicely. With cheeks suddenly burning, she wrenched her gaze away. For heaven’s sake, she hadn’t moved to Bellaroo Creek for that kind of fresh start!

Besides—she glanced up at him through her lashes—Cameron Manning was a man with something on his mind. She’d sensed it the moment he’d stepped out of the shadows of the trees. She had relaxed a little, though, when he’d handed over the key. She had no intention of handing it back. She’d signed a legally binding lease. She’d paid the first year’s rent up front. All fifty-two dollars of it.

The children ran off further down the backyard to explore, but even while she sensed he wanted to talk, she didn’t suggest they go inside to do just that. She wanted to keep an eye on Ty and Krissie. She wanted them to know she was nearby. She wanted to share in the joy of their discoveries. She had every intention of smoothing over any little concerns or ripples that threatened their well-being.

That was her first priority. That mattered a million times more than anything else at the moment. Joy, love and hope— that was what these kids needed and that was exactly what they were going to get.

She shot Cam another half-veiled glance. Still, if he was happy to talk out Here…‘I—’

‘You’re their auntie Tess?’

She blinked.

‘Where are their parents?’

Ah. She’d thought the entire town would know their story considering she hadn’t been reticent about the details in her application. In fact, she’d shamelessly used those details in an attempt to tug on all the unknown heartstrings that would be reading their application.

They walked back towards the house. Tess swooped down to pick up her abandoned coffee from the grass. She chugged back its lukewarm contents and then let the mug dangle loosely from her fingers. ‘Why is your surname different from your mother’s?’

‘I’m the son from her first marriage.’

Right. She nodded towards the children. ‘Their father and mother—my sister—died in a car accident three months ago.’

He stilled. ‘I’m sorry.’

He sounded genuinely sympathetic and her eyes started to burn. Even now, three months down the track and a million tears later, she still found condolences hard to deal with. But Cameron’s voice sounded low and deep—the tone and breadth midway between an oboe and a cello—and somehow that made it easier. She nodded and kicked herself back into an aimless meandering around the yard.

‘Are you interested in farming? In keeping cattle or horses or growing a crop?’

The abrupt change of topic took her off guard. ‘God, no!’ She hoped he didn’t take her horror personally, but she didn’t know the first thing about farming. She didn’t know much about vegetable gardens or keeping chickens either, she supposed, but she could learn. ‘Why?’

‘Because there’s been a bit of a mix-up with the tenancy agreement.’

Her blood chilled. Just like that. In an instant. Her toes and fingers froze rigid. He couldn’t kick them out! He’d given them the key.

The children loved this place. She’d made sure they’d fallen in love with it—had used her enthusiasm and assumed confidence to give it all a magical promise. Ty and Krissie weren’t resilient enough to deal with another disappointment.

And they didn’t deserve to.

‘I mean, yes,’ she snapped out as quickly as she could. ‘Farming is exactly the reason we’re out here.’

He frowned. In fact, it might be described as a scowl. But then he glanced at the kids and it became just a frown again. ‘I beg your pardon?’

She didn’t like the barely leashed control stretching through his voice, but he was not kicking them out. ‘What I’m trying to say is that I’m fully prepared to learn farming if that’s part of my contract.’

She’d gone over the contract with a fine-tooth comb. She’d consulted a solicitor. Her chin lifted. She’d signed a legally binding contract. She had understood it. The solicitor had ensured that. She wasn’t in the wrong here. A fine trembling started up in her legs, but she stood her ground. ‘I’m not going to let you kick us out.’ She even managed to keep her voice perfectly pleasant. ‘Just so you know.’

‘I don’t want to kick you out.’

That was when she knew he was lying. Even though he’d been kind to the children. Even though he’d handed over the key. This man would love it if they left.

Didn’t he want to save his town?

By this stage they’d reached the back fence. She set her mug on a fencepost, and then leant against it and folded her arms. ‘It’s been a long day, Mr Manning, so I’m going to speak plainly.’

He blinked at the formality of her Mr Manning. And she saw he understood the sudden distance she’d created between them.

‘I signed a contract and I understand my rights. If there’s been a mix-up then it hasn’t been of my making.’ She folded her arms tighter. ‘Whatever this mix-up may be, the children and I are not leaving this house. We’re living here for the next three years and we’re going to carve out a new life for ourselves and we are going to make that work. This is now our home and we’re going to make it a good home. Furthermore, you are not going to say anything in front of the children that might upset or alarm them—you hear me?’

His mouth opened and closed. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’

He leaned towards her and he smelled like fresh-cut grass, and it smelled so fresh and young that she wanted to bury her face against his neck and just breathe it in. She shook herself. It’d been a long trip. Very long. ‘Then smile!’ she snapped.

To her utter astonishment, he laughed, and the grim lines that hooded his eyes and weighed down the corners of his mouth all lightened, and his eyes sparkled, the same deep green as clover.

Her breath caught. The man wasn’t just big and broad and a great help to his mum—he was beautiful!

The blood started to thump in a painful pulse about her body. Four months ago she’d have flirted with Cam in an attempt to lighten him up. Three months ago she’d have barely noticed him. It was amazing the changes a single month could bring. One day. In fact, lives could change in a single moment.

And they did.

And they had.

She swallowed. The particular moment that had turned her life on its head might not have been her fault, but if she’d been paying attention she might’ve been able to avert it. That knowledge would plague her to her grave.

And men, beautiful and otherwise, were completely off the agenda.

She snapped away from him. He frowned. ‘Tess, I’m not going to ask you to leave. I swear. This house is all yours for the next three years, and beyond if you want it.’

She bit her lip, glanced back at him. ‘Really?’

‘Really.’

‘Still—’ she stuck out a hip ‘—you’re less than enthused about it.’

He hesitated and then shrugged. ‘My mother has, in effect, foisted you lot on to me.’

She glanced at the house and then back at him. ‘Isn’t the house hers?’

‘Not precisely.’ He exhaled loudly. ‘My father made certain provisions for my mother in his will. She has the use of this house along with an attached parcel of land for as long as she lives. When she passes the rights all revert back to the owner of Kurrajong Station.’

‘You?’

‘Me.’

She pursed her lips. He met her gaze steadily. She wanted to get a handle on this enigmatic neighbour of hers. Was he friend or foe? ‘Don’t you want to help save Bellaroo Creek?’

‘Sure I do.’

‘As long as you’re not asked to sacrifice too much in the effort, right?’

‘As long as I’m not asked to give up a significant portion of my potential income in the process,’ he countered.

‘How will our being here impact negatively on your income?’ Her understanding was that the Save-Our-Town scheme only offered unused farmhouses in exchange for ludicrously cheap rents. If their farmhouse was unused he couldn’t possibly be losing money. In fact, he’d be fifty-two dollars a year richer.

Her lips suddenly twitched. Cameron Manning didn’t strike her as the kind of man who’d stress too much over fifty-two dollars. Not that she needed to stress over money either. It hadn’t been the cheap rent but the promise of a fresh start that had lured her out here.

He drew in a breath and then pointed behind her. She turned. ‘Forty hectares,’ he said. ‘Forty hectares I had plans for. Forty hectares my mother had promised to lease to me.’

She slapped a hand to her forehead. ‘They were allotted to me in my tenancy agreement? That’s the mix-up you’re talking about.’

‘Yep.’

‘And you want them back?’

‘Bingo.’

She laughed in her sudden rush of relief. ‘Oh, honey, they’re all yours.’ What on earth did she want with forty hectares of wide, open space? She had a house and a backyard and a whole ocean of possibilities enough to satisfy her.

She clapped her hands. ‘Hey, troops, who’s for sultana cake?’

CHAPTER TWO

IT TOOK TESS until her second bite of sultana cake to realise she hadn’t allayed her sexy neighbour’s concerns.

She stiffened. Umm…not sexy. Taciturn and selfcontained, perhaps, and, um…She dragged her gaze from shoulders so broad they made her think of Greek gods and swimsuits and the Mediterranean.

Sleep, rest, peace, that was what she needed. The last month had been a crazy whirlwind and she quite literally hadn’t stopped. The two months prior had been a blur of pain and grief.

She flinched at the memory and brushed a hand across her eyes. Bellaroo Creek would bring her the rest and the sleep she craved, but peace? She wasn’t sure anything on earth could bring her that.

And she wasn’t sure she deserved it.

Cameron hitched an eyebrow. ‘A penny for them.’

She stiffened again. Nu-huh. But the exhaustion made her silly—an after-effect of the nonsense she’d used all day to keep the children entertained and in good spirits. ‘Are you sure you can afford a penny when I’m only paying you a dollar a week in rent?’

His green eyes gleamed for a tantalizing moment. It made him look younger. She dragged her gaze away and rose. ‘I’ll just check on the kids. The promise of cake should’ve had them sprinting inside.’

On cue, the pair came racing through the front door. ‘We found a lizard,’ Ty announced, breathless with excitement.

‘Will it bite us?’ Krissie asked, wide-eyed.

She directed the question at Cam. He’d obviously become the source of trusted information. Tess’s chest cramped as she stared at them—took in their simple wonder.

‘That’ll be Old Nelson, the blue-tongue,’ Cam said, leaning back in his chair, one long, lean leg stretched out in front of him.

Krissie’s eyes widened even further. ‘He has a name?’

‘Wow, awesome!’ Ty breathed. ‘Will he bite?’

‘Only if you poke him or try to pick him up.’

‘Can we take our cake outside, Auntie Tess?’

With a laugh, Tess assented. She watched as they left the room and her chest burned. If only Sarah could see them now. If only—

‘You okay?’

She jumped, swung back patting her chest. ‘Tired,’ she said. She sat and forced a smile. She’d become good at that over the last couple of months—smiling when she didn’t feel like it—but she could see it didn’t fool Cam. She shrugged. ‘They’ve been through so much, but for this moment they’re happy and…and that’s no small thing.’

He stared towards the front of the house and then glanced back at her. ‘They’re great kids, Tess.’

She nodded. ‘They really are.’ And they deserved so much more than life had dished out to them. Focusing on the negatives wouldn’t help anyone, though—least of all Ty and Krissie. She sipped tea. Cam had made a pot while she’d sliced the cake. It was the best tea she’d ever tasted.

She lifted her cup. ‘This is seriously good.’

‘My mother was the president of the Country Women’s Association for a hundred years. Believe me, she made sure her sons knew how to brew a proper pot of tea.’

She made a mental note to join the CWA. But for the moment…‘You want to tell me why you’re still so worried about your forty hectares?’

His eyes widened a fraction, but he held her gaze with a steadiness she found disconcerting. ‘I had a contract drawn up. I need you to sign it before I can start planting.’

He whipped out a sheaf of papers, literally from thin air as far as her tired brain could tell. He flicked through to the final page and pointed. ‘I need your signature here.’ He handed her a pen.

She lowered her cup back to its saucer and dropped her hands to her lap. ‘I’m not signing anything I haven’t read.’

‘Fair enough.’ He placed the contract in front of her and leaned back.

‘And I’m not reading it now when I’m so tired.’

He frowned.

‘And if there’s something I don’t understand, I’ll be consulting my solicitor for clarification.’

He was silent for a long moment and the silence should’ve sawn on her nerves, but it didn’t. After a day of chatter and noise in the confines of the car, the silence was heaven.

‘You don’t trust me,’ he finally said, nodding as if that made perfect sense.

‘I don’t know you. Once upon a time I’d have been prepared to take spur-of-the-moment risks and trust my gut instincts, but I won’t now Tyler and Krissie are in my care.’ She leant towards him. ‘Are you saying you trust me?’ She waved a hand in the direction of the back door and his precious forty hectares. ‘By all means start planting tomorrow. I’ll keep my word. I’ll get the contract back to you by the middle of next week.’

His lips twisted but his eyes danced. ‘Nope, don’t trust you as far as I could throw you.’

Given his size and the breadth of his shoulders, she had a feeling he could throw her a long way if he so chose.

This time it was he who leaned in towards her, and that fresh-cut-grass scent danced around her and it was almost as relaxing as silence. ‘But I do need to get started on the planting soon if I’m to meet my obligations.’

‘I promise not to drag my feet.’ She wanted to be on good terms with her neighbours and the townsfolk of Bellaroo Creek. She just had to make sure she didn’t risk the children’s futures in her eagerness to fit in.

Without thinking, she reached out and touched his hand. He immediately stiffened and she snatched her hand back, her heart suddenly thundering in her ears. ‘I, uh…You said you’d bring your dog around to meet the children. Why don’t you aim to do that tomorrow morning some time—say, ten o’clock? I’ll try and have your contract read by then.’

‘If you need more time…’

Her pulse rate refused to slow. ‘No, no, it’s obvious that time is of the essence. Besides, the kids will no doubt be up early and we have a midday meet-and-greet luncheon at the community hall, so I should have plenty of time in the morning to go over this contract of yours.’

He rose in one swift motion. ‘I’ll see you at ten.’ And then he was gone.

She heard him say goodbye to the children. She supposed she should’ve followed him to the door to wave him off, but the strength had leached from her legs and she found herself momentarily incapable of even rising from her chair. She’d spent nearly ten hours in the car today. She was dog-tired. She’d just turned her entire life on its head—hers and the children’s. And if this move didn’t work out…

She shook that thought off. This move had to work out. In the meantime, she refused to allow her sexy neighbour to unsettle her.

She frowned. He wasn’t sexy.

She glanced at her empty plate, and then at Cam’s and realised he hadn’t touched his cake—he hadn’t even broken off the tiniest corner. She hadn’t been hungry for the last three months—ever since she’d received the phone call informing her of Sarah’s car accident. But now…

She stared at the cake. She pulled the plate towards her and then poured another cup of tea. She devoured both, slowly, relishing every single delicious mouthful.

The children made instant friends with Boomer, Cam’s border collie.

‘Will he fetch a ball?’ Ty asked, pulling a tennis ball from his pocket.

Cam’s mouth angled up in a lopsided smile as he surveyed Ty and Krissie and their barely concealed eagerness. ‘Believe me, he’ll fetch for longer than you’ll be prepared to throw.’ With whoops of delight, the children raced around the backyard with Boomer at their heels.

He had a way of smiling at her kids—and, yes, somewhere in the last month she’d started thinking of them as hers—that could melt a woman where she stood. ‘Morning,’ he finally said, the green of his eyes strangely undiluted in the mid-morning sun.

‘It will be,’ she countered, ‘if you’ll teach me the trick to making a perfect pot of tea.’

He laughed and it was only then she saw that while his eyes might be the purest of greens, shadows lurked in their depths. Shadows momentarily dispelled when he laughed.

He followed her into the kitchen. ‘One demonstration coming up.’

He should laugh more often. ‘Jug’s just boiled,’ she said, shaking the odd thought aside. Cam might well laugh a hundred times every single day for all she knew.

‘Did you fill the jug using hot or cold water?’

‘Hot. It makes it come to the boil faster.’

‘There’s your first mistake.’ He poured the contents of the jug down the sink and refilled it from the cold tap. ‘Cold water has more oxygen than hot. That’s key for the perfect cuppa.’

She sat and stared. ‘Well, who’d have known that?’ Other than a chemistry professor. And a president of the CWA… and her sons.

He sat too, his eyes twinkling for the briefest of moments. ‘It’s important to be properly trained in country ways.’

‘I never doubted it for a moment.’ She leapt up to glance out of the kitchen window to make sure the children were okay. When she swung back she could’ve sworn he’d been checking out her backside.

His gaze slid away. Her heart thumped. She’d imagined it. She must’ve imagined it. She frowned, scratched a hand through her hair and tried to think of something to say.

‘Did you get a chance to read the contract?’

Of course she’d imagined it, but the shadows were back in his eyes with a vengeance and it left a bitter taste in her mouth, though for the life of her she couldn’t explain why. ‘Yes.’ She took her seat again.

‘And?’

The contract had been remarkably straightforward. It hadn’t asked her to give up her firstborn or sign her rights away to the house and the acre block it stood on. It simply requested she sign over the attached forty hectares of land and to waive her rights to any profits he accrued from the use of the land. Except…

On the table, one of his hands tightened. ‘You have a problem?’

She hauled in a breath and nodded. ‘I do.’

‘You want more money for the lease?’

She hated the derisive light that entered his eyes. She pushed the contract towards him. ‘I made my amendment in black ink. That’s what I’m prepared to sign.’

Blowing out a breath, he pulled the contract towards him and flipped through the pages to the end. And then he stilled and rubbed his forehead. ‘You don’t want any payment at all?’

She rubbed her hands up and down her arms. What kind of people was he used to dealing with? ‘Of course I don’t want any payment! I’m not entitled to any payment. Rightfully the land is yours. If you want to pay anyone a fee for leasing the land, then pay your mother.’

He sat back. ‘I’ve offended you.’

Why did the wonder in his voice suddenly make her want to cry? Since Sarah’s death, the silliest, most unexpected things could make her cry. ‘You will if you keep going on in that vein.’

Her voice came out husky and choked. His gaze lowered to her mouth and it gave her a moment to study him. He had a strong jaw and lean lips and she couldn’t tear her eyes away. She could keep telling herself that he wasn’t sexy, but he was. His eyes darkened. A pulse throbbed in her bottom lip, swelling it and making it ache. The heat in the air between them sizzled with such unmistakable intensity it made her head whirl. With an oath, Cam pushed away from the table. He seized the teapot and started making tea. She closed her eyes. She’d been surrounded by death, preoccupied with it. Life wanted to reassert itself. This—her body’s rebellion at her common-sense strictures—was normal.