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

CHAPTER FOUR

CAM CLEANED THE last of the tack. He glanced at the neatly aligned rows of bridles and lead ropes, and at the newly polished saddles, but two hours’ worth of rubbing and buffing hadn’t helped ease the itch between his shoulder blades.

With a frown, and a muffled curse that had no direct object, he strode out of the tack room and into the machinery shed to leap on a trail bike and kick it into life. He pointed it in the direction of the northern boundary fence and let loose with the throttle, even though he knew Fraser had trawled along that boundary through the week to check the fences.

He belted along the track for ten minutes when, with another muffled curse, he turned the bike back in the direction of the homestead. Dumping the bike back in the machinery shed, he grabbed several assorted lengths of wood and a roll of chicken wire and threw them, along with his toolbox, into the back of one of the station’s utes and, with a final muffled curse, headed next door to Tess’s.

He might be planning to sever his ties with Bellaroo Creek, but he couldn’t leave a lone woman with two dependent kids to flounder on her own. Not on land he was ultimately responsible for. Not when it was his fault she now had a puppy and a chicken to look after on top of everything else.

Talk to her. That was what Tess had said about his mother.

He swiped a hand through the air. His mother would always have a home with him. She knew that, even if she chose to never accept it.

I think the farm is in trouble.

That was none of his business any more. He fishtailed the ute to a halt in front of Tess’s cottage and the itch between his shoulder blades intensified. He stared out of the windscreen and shook his head. The thought uppermost in his mind, it seemed, wasn’t on building a chicken coop or wondering why his mother refused to come out to Kurrajong, but what Tess might be wearing today—jeans or a skirt?

He rubbed his eyes. When he lowered his hand it was to find Ty and Barney barrelling down the side of the house towards him. ‘Hey, Cam!’

He pushed his door open and found a grin. ‘Hey, Ty, how’s Barney settling in?’

‘I love him best of all dogs in the world!’

It struck him then that Ty looked just like any other seven-yearold boy who’d just got his first puppy—carefree, excited, his face shadow-free.

‘He’s a mighty fine-looking puppy,’ Cam agreed, realising he’d helped to make those shadows retreat. The knowledge awed him, humbled him. He reached behind him to scratch his back.

Then Tess came tripping around the side of the house and all rational thought stopped for more beats of his pulse than he had the wit to count. Shorts. Tess wore a pair of scarletcoloured shorts and a pale cream vest top. Her bare arms, bare legs and shoulders all gleamed in the autumn sunlight. She made him think of fields of ripening wheat, of cream and honey and nutmeg, of spiced apples and camping under the stars. She made him think of his mother’s sultana cake—his favourite food in the world. He curled his fingers against his palms to stop from doing something daft and reaching out to stroke a finger down her arm.

‘Hello, Cameron.’

He swallowed and then simply nodded, unsure if his voice would work.

‘Auntie Tess said Barney did really good for a puppy. We’ve only had one accident.’

Cam winced. ‘I, uh…’

Her eyes danced. ‘Apologise again and I’ll thump you. That puppy has been a source of pure joy.’ She glanced at his ute and then planted her hands on her hips and sent him a mock glare. ‘Where’s my lawnmower?’

He grimaced. ‘My station manager is currently lying beneath it trying to fix a fuel leak.’

‘Ouch.’

‘It should be fixed in the next day or so.’ He didn’t want her using it if it wasn’t a hundred per cent safe.

She gestured with her head and turned. ‘Come and join the party.’

He followed her. He didn’t even try to keep from ogling the length of her legs or taking an inventory of the innate grace with which she moved. She was like some wonderful and exotic creature who’d deigned to live among the mundane and the humdrum. A creature whose beauty took one out of the mundane and humdrum for a few precious moments.

He wondered what she’d done for a living before she’d moved to Bellaroo Creek—maybe she’d been a dancer. He opened his mouth to ask, but they’d rounded the house and Krissie sat on a blanket with that darn chicken on her lap and when she glanced up and saw him she sent him a grin of such epic proportions it cracked his chest wide open.

He had to swallow before he could speak. ‘Did Fluffy have a good night?’

‘She slept in her cage in the laundry, but I think she’d be happier sleeping in my bedroom.’

Tess sent him a bare-teethed grimace that almost made him laugh. One could toilet train a puppy, but a chicken…? ‘Well, honey, I’ve come around to build Fluffy her very own house.’

Krissie’s bottom lip wobbled. ‘Barney slept in Ty’s room.’

He crouched down beside her. ‘The thing is, Krissie, chickens aren’t like puppies or kittens. They like the fresh air and they like to see the stars at night and be able to come and go as much as they please. So, as much as Fluffy loves you, she’ll be happier out here in the yard.’

She stared at him and he held his breath. ‘She’ll get her very own house, right?’

‘That’s right.’

‘A nice one?’

‘One that she’ll love,’ he promised.

Her face cleared. ‘I can show you a picture of Fluffy’s dream house!’ She plonked Fluffy down on the grass and raced inside.

‘Oh, good Lord.’ Tess groaned. ‘I have no idea what she has in mind, Cameron.’

He had sudden visions of a hot-pink Barbie house and gulped. And then he glanced around. A collection of plastic planters in assorted shapes and sizes battled for space from the back of the house to the lemon tree. ‘Where on earth did all these seedlings come from?’

Tess planted her hands on her hips. Sweet hips…long, lovely legs…pretty arms. Cam curled his fingers into his palms again. With a silent curse he uncurled them and shoved them into his pockets. Deep into his pockets.

‘Everyone has been so kind. At Saturday’s luncheon Ty, Krissie and I mentioned we’d like to start our own veggie garden and asked for advice on what vegetables we should grow.’

He shook his head, but he couldn’t help grinning. ‘I guess you got your answer.’

She grinned back. ‘I guess we did.’

Her plum-coloured lips gleamed temptingly in the sunlight. His heart thumped. He kept his hands firmly in his pockets. The itch started up again with a vengeance.

Krissie reappeared brandishing a magazine. ‘This one!’ She held it up for them to see.

‘That’s an awful lot of house for one chicken, Krissie,’ Tess said.

Krissie’s bottom lip wobbled. ‘But we’ll get more chickens, remember? Fluffy will need friends for when I’m at school.’

She turned liquid eyes to Cam and they melted him on the spot. He rolled his shoulders, risked removing his hands from his pockets to take the magazine and survey the picture more fully. ‘Oh, I think we can manage something like this.’ He frantically recalculated the amount of wood in his ute with the amount he still had at the homestead.

‘Give me a list of what we need and I’ll go into the stock and station store to get supplies,’ Tess said, as if reading his mind.

It wouldn’t be cheap. He grimaced. He should’ve found a way to talk Krissie into something less grand and—

‘We’re good for it, Cameron. It isn’t a problem,’ Tess said, again as if reading his mind, which unsettled him. He normally maintained a quiet reserve that made him hard to read. It had been one of the things Fiona had complained about. But this woman, it seemed, had only to glance at him to know what he was thinking.

But her plump dusky lips curved up with such promise he found he didn’t mind at all…or, at least, not as much as he suspected he should.

‘Can I help you build it?’ Ty breathed, his eyes alight.

‘I’ll definitely need a helper—a foreman. It’s a big job, Ty, and I’ll need your help.’

Ty’s eyes grew as big as cabbages, his chest puffed out. That awe hit Cam again as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket. Surveying Krissie’s dream chicken coop, and doing his best to keep his eyes from the plump temptation of Tess’s lips, he placed an order at the stock and station store.

They spent the afternoon on Phase One of the chicken coop. Tess couldn’t believe Cam’s patience with Ty or the way her nephew blossomed under his quiet but authoritative guidance. He’d lacked a male role model for so long.

Eventually, though, both children wandered off to check on Old Nelson. And then Ty set about teaching Barney how to play fetch while Krissie fell asleep on the blanket beneath the shade of the lemon tree, leaving Fluffy free to scratch about the yard.

Tess glanced at Cam whistling idly as he nailed boards to the frame he’d built. Something inside her shifted. Ever since that moment yesterday when she’d hugged him, she’d grown increasingly aware of the breadth of his shoulders, of the flex and play of the muscles in his arms, and of the fresh-cut-grass scent that followed in his wake and stirred something to life inside her. Something she desperately tried to ignore.

The sun shone brightly, but not too fiercely, picking out the lighter highlights in his chestnut hair. Fiona had thrown this man over for Lance? Tess snorted. What a loser! The woman quite obviously had her head screwed on backwards. Lance might dazzle with those playboy good looks of his, but when a woman looked at Cam she was left in no doubt that he was all man.

One hundred per cent fit and honed man.

And the longer Tess stared at him, the more that thing inside her stirred and fluttered and stretched itself into heartbeating, mouth-drying sentience.

Thoughts of Lance, though, slid an unwelcome reminder through her. The expression on Lorraine’s face—that mixture of anxiety, regret and heartbreak—rose in her mind and she bit back a sigh.

‘You want to tell me what’s on your mind?’

She blinked, and then realised Cam had caught her out blatantly staring at him. The skin on her face and neck burned. ‘Oh…I…nothing.’

‘Why don’t I believe you?’

He wielded a hammer as if he’d been born to it. She dragged her gaze from muscled forearms lightly dusted with hair, and the pull of lean brown hands. She tried desperately to dispel thoughts of what else those hands might be expert at.

She clenched her eyes shut and counted to five. For pity’s sake! She didn’t need this at the moment—this wild, desperate ache. She needed to remain focused on the children. On not letting Sarah down. On making amends.

‘Tess?’

She went back to tacking chicken wire to the frame of their mansion of a chicken house, the way he’d shown her, but she couldn’t resist another glance at him. The brilliance of his eyes struck her afresh. She swallowed and shrugged. ‘Oh, I was just thinking about stuff you’d no doubt declare me nosy for contemplating.’

He set his hammer down. ‘Like?’

Keep your mouth shut. She set her hammer down too. ‘Like how a man who is as gentle with children and animals as you could just ignore that his mother might be in trouble.’

He stiffened as if she’d slapped him.

‘I said it was nosy,’ she muttered, though she wasn’t certain she was actually apologising.

‘You’re not wrong there.’

Minding her business was the wisest course of action. She knew that. Cam was a grown-up. He knew what he was doing. She swallowed. She used to be really good at minding her own business.

‘You must really hate Lance if you haven’t spoken to him in ten months.’ She shivered. She understood his bitterness. She really did, but…‘How can you stand to live in the same town as him when you bear that much resentment?’

He eyed her for an interminable moment. It made her chest constrict. ‘I’m not planning on staying for that much longer, Tess.’

He hammered in a nail with more force than necessary, and a sickening thump started up in her stomach. ‘What?’

He set his hammer back down and glared at her. ‘In two months I’ll be out of this godforsaken town and Lance can sink or swim under his own steam. I’ve washed my hands of him and his tantrums and his so-called troubles.’

‘But…’ Cameron couldn’t leave!

‘What about your mother?’ she burst out.

He picked the hammer up again. ‘I expect my leaving will be a blessing for her. With me gone, tensions will ease.’ He hammered in another nail. ‘Besides, like I told you, my mother has made it clear where her loyalties lie.’

Tess’s mouth opened and closed. ‘Can’t you see her loyalties are being torn?’

‘By remaining in the same house as Lance and Fiona she’s given them her tacit approval.’

‘You mother is not the type of woman who would ever kick her offspring out of her house, regardless of what they’ve done.’ She planted her hands on her hips. ‘But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you.’ Couldn’t he see that? ‘Do you really mean to make her choose between the two of you? She’s not responsible for the things Lance has done.’

‘My leaving means she won’t have to choose.’

She glanced at Krissie and an ache exploded in her chest. Cam’s anger and bitterness were warping him and tearing him apart. Couldn’t he see that? ‘Oh, Cameron, it’s been ten months.’

He strode around and seized her chin, his eyes blazing. ‘And you naively think that time can heal all wounds?’

His fingers were gentle but his voice was hard. He smelled of wood and grass and sweat.

He paused and she swallowed, aching at the pain she sensed behind the flint of his eyes.

He scanned her face and then released her with a shake of his head. ‘Why does this matter so much to you?’

She had to take a step away from him. He was too…much. Too much for her senses. Too much for her hormones. And the hardness in him clashed too deeply with the places that grieved inside her. ‘I just lost my sister, Cam. I never appreciated her enough. I wish I had but I didn’t. And now I’ve lost her and I can’t get her back.’

He paled.

‘I have no one now but Ty and Krissie. Don’t get me wrong, they make up for everything, but…you have a mother who loves you and I’m jealous.’ She tried to smile. He had a brother too, but she left that unsaid. In his shoes, would she be able to forgive Lance?

His eyes darkened, his hand half lifted as if to touch her cheek…and then he wheeled away.

She hunched her shoulders, wishing she hadn’t started this conversation. Wishing she’d left well alone. She tried to make her voice bright. ‘Where will you go when you leave Bellaroo Creek?’

He turned back. ‘Africa. I’m an advisor for a charity whose mission is to increase agricultural production in Third World countries. I’ve requested a field position.’

‘Wow!’ She stared at him. ‘Just…wow! That’s amazing.’ She swallowed and chafed her arms. ‘What an adventure.’

‘I’m hoping so.’

‘Is it a secret?’

‘I haven’t told anyone, if that’s what you mean.’ He shifted his weight to plant his legs firmly.

She tried another smile and mimicked zipping her mouth shut to let him know she wouldn’t say anything to anyone, and she had a feeling he had to fight back a smile of his own. She’d like to make him smile for real. ‘We’ll miss you, Cameron. You’ve been just about the best neighbour we city slickers could’ve had.’

His eyes widened. He blinked and then they narrowed. It made her want to fidget. Did he think she was making some kind of a move on him? Her spine stiffened and her chin shot up. ‘You can lose that nasty suspicion right now,’ she shot at him. ‘Even if I was in the market for something more, I’m not stupid enough to get involved with a man on the rebound.’ She folded her arms. ‘In fact, I’m starting to think the sooner you leave, the better!’

He grinned then—a true-blue, solid-gold grin that hooked up his mouth and made his eyes dance. For a moment all Tess could make out was the brightness of the sun, the sound of the breeze playing through the leaves of the lemon tree and the force of that smile. She blinked and the rest of the world slowly surged back into focus.

‘From where I’m standing, Tess, my suspicion was more like wishful thinking and it wasn’t the least bit nasty. In fact, it was pretty darn tempting.’

Heat crept along her veins. She bit her bottom lip in an effort to counter its heavy throbbing. There was nothing she could do about her breasts, though, except to keep her arms tightly folded across them and hope their eager swelling didn’t show.

‘But I’m severing ties with Bellaroo Creek while you’re in the process of establishing them. And while I wouldn’t be averse to a purely physical arrangement…’

She shook her head.

‘That’s what I figured.’

She pulled a breath of fresh country air into her lungs to try to cool her body’s unaccountable response to the man opposite; to give herself the space she needed to remember the promises she’d made to herself. ‘Romance in any shape or form isn’t figuring on my horizon for the next year or two.’

He stared at her, frowned. ‘Why not?’

She glanced at Krissie still dozing beneath the lemon tree, and at Ty and Barney wrestling gently in the long grass down by the back fence. ‘Because at the moment the children need stability in their lives. Bringing a new man into the mix would freak them out, threaten them.’ For the next year or two she meant to focus all her energies on them and what they needed.

For pity’s sake! It couldn’t be that hard. She’d spent the last twenty-six years focussing on nothing but herself and her music. It wouldn’t kill her to put others’ needs before her own for a while. In fact, she had a feeling it was mandatory. Anyway, what did she know about romantic relationships? She’d had flirtations, but nothing serious or long-term. She didn’t know enough about them to risk Ty’s and Krissie’s well-being, that was for sure.

‘Tess, you’re young and beautiful. You’re entitled to a life of your own.’

She stared at him. Did he really think she was beautiful?

She started and shook her stupid vanity aside. ‘Well, then, hopefully another two years won’t make much difference to either of those things.’

‘I think you’re making a mistake.’

‘Ten months,’ she shot back. ‘I think you’re the one making a mistake.’

They glared at each other. ‘Speaking of nosy questions…’ his glare deepened ‘…I have one of my own.’

She moistened dry lips. ‘Oh?’

He hitched his head in the direction of the children. ‘Who hurt them?’

The strength drained from her legs. She reached out but the chicken coop wasn’t stable enough to take her weight. She backed up and plonked down on a load of timber Cam had placed to one side, a chasm opening up in her chest. She wanted nothing more than to drop her face to her hands, but if either child glanced her way it would frighten them, worry them, and calming their anxieties was her numberone concern.

Cam swore. She glanced up. With the sun behind her, she could see his face clearly and the range of expressions that filtered across it—concern, protectiveness…anger.

Who hurt them? Her chest cramped. She’d hoped…‘Is it that obvious?’ she whispered.

He eased himself down beside her. ‘Not at first.’

She had a feeling he was trying to humour her, to offer her some comfort, but there was no comfort to be had. Not for her.

‘Tess?’

She chafed her arms as a chill settled over her, although the sun and the air remained warm. ‘Their father,’ she finally said. ‘It was their father.’

From the corner of her eyes she saw one of his hands clench. She sensed that every muscle in his body had tensed. ‘He hit them?’

She nodded.

‘And he hit their mother?’

She nodded again.

‘The bastard!’

She had to swallow a lump at the pointlessness of it all. ‘Oh, Cameron, it’s so much sadder than that.’ Heartbreakingly sad.

‘Did he kill their mother and then commit suicide?’

Her head came up at that. ‘No!’ The police had been certain. ‘It was a car accident.’ She swallowed. ‘They hit a tree. The police who arrived first on the scene found an injured kangaroo on the road.’

‘They swerved to avoid it?’

‘I expect so.’

He reached out to clasp one of the hands she had clenched in her lap. ‘Tell me the sad story, Tess.’

Why did he want to know? And then she thought about Lorraine, and Lance and Fiona. Maybe something in Sarah and Bruce’s story would touch a chord with him. Maybe it would help heal the anger and pain inside him. Maybe it would help him find a way to forgive. Lance might not deserve that forgiveness, but she had a growing certainty that Cam needed to find it inside himself all the same.

His grip tightened and finally she met his gaze. She turned her hand over and without any hesitation at all he entwined his fingers with hers, giving her the silent strength and support she needed.