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Rancher's Twins: Mom Needed Page 8
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‘Don’t you think of yourself as a city girl?’ Gray asked her.
She shook her head. ‘You know what they say. You can take the girl out of the farm, but you can’t take the farm out of the girl.’
He smiled. ‘So what kind of farm did you grow up on?’
‘A dairy.’
‘Really?’ His eyebrows lifted with surprise. ‘Dairies are hard work.’
Holly laughed. ‘And your kind of farming is easy?’
‘Piece of cake,’ he said with a sparkle in his blue eyes that sent her hormones rattling. ‘Except for when I’m driving a truck through floodwaters.’
‘Or wrestling with crocodiles.’
‘Yeah, or wrangling wild bulls.’
They shared another smile. Holly, trying to ignore another flutter, asked quickly, ‘So how big is Jabiru Creek Station?’
‘Close on a million acres.’
‘Wow.’ She stared at him. ‘I’m sure there are countries in Europe that are smaller than that.’
Gray shrugged. ‘A few, I believe.’
‘But Janet told me you run this place all by yourself. She said you’ve been in charge here for almost ten years.’
‘I have, more or less, but I couldn’t have done it without the help of Ted. He’s my manager and he keeps the books and looks after the paperwork. I couldn’t have managed without Janet, either. She and Ted are a great backup team.’
‘But you don’t have any other family here?’
‘No.’ Gray concentrated on spearing a bean with his fork. ‘As you know, my mother’s in Sydney. She and my dad split up when I was a nipper. Later, my dad’s health went downhill, so he moved to Cairns to be closer to doctors. But he’s okay, as long as he has regular check-ups.’
Gray lifted his gaze. ‘Tell me about your farm. Do your parents still run it?’
‘Sure—with my eldest brother’s help. He and his family live with my parents.’
‘Your eldest brother?’ Now Gray looked amused. ‘So how many brothers do you have?’
‘Three. All of them are older.’
Smiling, he pushed his empty plate aside and leaned back in his chair in a way that somehow made his shoulders look huge. ‘So you’re the only girl and the baby of the family.’
‘Yes.’ Holly couldn’t help returning his smile. ‘I know, I know. I must be a spoiled princess.’
‘I can’t see any signs of spoiling,’ he said, letting his gaze run over her.
To her surprise, a happy kind of buzz started inside her, something she hadn’t felt in a very long time. ‘You haven’t mentioned any brothers or sisters,’ she prompted. ‘Are you an only child?’
‘Yeah. But I can’t claim to have been spoiled.’
‘No,’ she agreed quietly, remembering his mother’s cool reception at the airport.
Setting her knife and fork neatly together, she said, ‘Actually, my brothers are my stepbrothers.’
‘Really?’ Gray was too well mannered to ply her with awkward questions, but she could tell he was curious. She decided she wanted to tell him.
‘I’ve never met my real father, you see. He took off when I was a baby, so my mom was a single mom, a hairdresser, and until I was five we lived in town. Just the two of us in a little flat above her hairdressing salon. Then one day this nice guy came into her salon with three young sons who needed haircuts.’
She smiled. ‘Turned out he was a lonely widower, a dairy farmer. He and my mom hit it off and, when they married, we became a family.’
To Holly’s surprise, Gray frowned. ‘And you’ve all lived happily ever after?’
‘We have indeed.’ Sending him a deliberately light-hearted smile, she added, ‘So you know the moral of that story, don’t you?’
‘Do I?’
‘Sure. Next time you’re in town, you have to keep an eye out for a friendly but lonely hairdresser.’
It was supposed to be a joke, but she could see it had fallen flatter than Kansas.
‘I’m not looking for a second wife,’ Gray said grimly.
Okay. Point noted.
Holly had been thinking of her stepdad and how happy he was with her mom, how happy they both were—but perhaps she’d been insensitive. She hoped she hadn’t sounded as if she was pushing Gray to find a replacement mother for his kids.
It was clear she’d upset him. Gathering up their plates, she carried them to the sink, mad with herself for spoiling a perfectly pleasant conversation. For a moment there, Gray had looked as if he wanted to pack her bags and put her on the next mail plane out of Jabiru.
Knowing a change of subject was needed, she asked, ‘While I’m up, would you like a cuppa?’
‘Thank you.’ Already, he was sounding more conciliatory. ‘I’ll stack the dishwasher.’
She tried to ignore the view of him from behind as he bent over to load their plates. How could ordinary old blue jeans be so attention-grabbing?
‘By the way,’ she said casually as her gaze flickered to his low-slung jeans, then away. Then back again. ‘I meant to thank you for letting us use your study as a schoolroom.’
‘No worries.’ Gray finished with the dishwasher and leaned casually against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, his eyes friendly once more. ‘You’re welcome to use the study.’
‘It doubles really well as a school room, but I’ve told Anna and Josh they have to keep it tidy for you.’
He pulled a face. ‘Doesn’t really matter if they mess that room up. I’m not in there a lot.’
‘I must admit I was surprised to find it so tidy. I thought it would be full of your books.’
Gray frowned and his eyes narrowed. ‘Why?’
‘Well, there are hardly any books anywhere else in the house. I thought they’d be in the study, but you obviously keep them somewhere else. I must admit I kept all mine in my bedroom in Chelsea’s flat. I had them double stacked on floor-to-ceiling shelves, piled on the nightstand, on the floor—’
As Holly said this, she realised that Gray’s expression had changed.
Again.
This time, however, she saw a flash of pain in his eyes. Real pain.
What was the matter now? What had she said wrong?
Behind her the kettle came to the boil and she whirled around quickly. Confused, embarrassed, she concentrated very carefully on pouring hot water into mugs.
When she looked back at Gray again, a cool mask had slipped over his face and his blue eyes were almost icy. ‘I never have time for reading,’ he said.
Okay. So here was another subject that was a conversation stopper for this man. First, she’d upset him by asking about his former wife’s preference for Sydney. Then she’d made a light-hearted comment about his marital future and hit a brick wall. Now his taste in books was a taboo topic…
Aware that the evening’s lovely relaxed mood would almost certainly not revive, Holly suggested that she might take her tea through to her room and Gray looked relieved. They exchanged very polite goodnights and parted.
In bed, however, nursing her mug of hot tea, Holly couldn’t help conducting a post-mortem of their conversation. She thought how much she’d enjoyed Gray’s company up until the point when she’d apparently put her foot in it. Gray wasn’t just a sexy dude. She’d seen glimpses of a really nice, friendly guy.
Then she’d spoiled everything. For heaven’s sake, who was she to judge his reading habits? What did she know about the responsibilities involved in caring for a million acre property? Gray couldn’t have been much more than twenty when he’d shouldered that responsibility, and it wasn’t so remarkable that he hadn’t had time to laze about with his nose in a book.
Just the same, it was clear there was more to Gray than met the eye. He might seem to be a straightforward Australian cattleman with a down-to-earth manner but, beneath the simple and sexy blue-jeans-and-riding-boots exterior, he was a complicated puzzle.
Working him out wasn’t part of Holly’s job description. But, if she was to leave Ann
a and Josh in his care, shouldn’t she try to understand him?
After Holly left, Gray stayed behind in the kitchen, brooding as he stared out through the window at the dark, starless sky.
He’d been steeling himself for Holly’s nosy questions. She was, after all, a teacher but, truth to tell, her question about his books hadn’t bothered him nearly as much as her suggestion about his plans for the future.
Whenever he thought about the rest of his life stretching ahead into his forties, fifties and beyond, his heart felt rimmed with ice. But was he really going to close down his emotions and never look at another woman again? Was it okay if his children never had a stepmother? Weren’t Janet and a nanny enough?
He’d always looked on Chelsea’s arrival in the Outback as a gift from the gods, but he’d wrecked that chance.
Had it been his only chance?
What was he planning for the rest of his life? Would he simply take advantage of casual opportunities? Or would he put himself in the marketplace—like those crazy TV shows—Cattleman wants a Wife.
He hadn’t come to terms with any of these questions yet—and he sure as hell wished Holly hadn’t raised them.
By Friday afternoon, the children were well settled into their new home. The school week had gone really well and now Anna and Josh were out of the school room and playing on the swing. It was a favourite afternoon pastime that came a close second to admiring their growing puppies, which now resembled fat little sausages with lovely seal-smooth coats.
Selections had been made and Josh was the proud pre-owner of the all black male, while Anna had settled on a sweet little blue-speckled female.
From the kitchen Holly could hear the children’s voices drifting through the window, squealing with delight as they pushed the swing higher.
Janet, in the kitchen, was browning chicken pieces at the stove.
‘Let me help you,’ Holly said. ‘Maybe I can chop something?’
Janet tried to shoo her away. ‘Your job’s in the school room, lovey. I don’t expect you to help in here.’
‘But I’d like to.’ Holly was thinking of all the times she’d chopped ingredients for her mom in the pretty blue and yellow farmhouse kitchen at home. For some reason she couldn’t quite explain, this afternoon she was feeling homesick.
She told herself it had nothing to do with the fact that Gray had made himself scarce all week, ever since Monday night’s conversation.
‘Well…’ Janet took a good long look at Holly and apparently made up her mind about something. ‘You could chop carrots and celery if you like. I’m making chicken cacciatore.’ Then she sent Holly an unsettling wink. ‘It’s one of Gray’s favourites.’
Hmm…Gray again…
It was surprising the number of times Janet mentioned her boss to Holly. She’d even tried to suggest that Gray was happier now that Holly had come to Jabiru Creek.
But if Gray was happier, Holly knew it was because his children were here now, and it had nothing to do with her presence. Quite the opposite. Whenever she’d talked to Gray she’d pressed the wrong buttons and upset him. Ever since Monday night he’d been avoiding her and that bothered her more than it should.
Admittedly, a cattleman needed to rise early and to be away from the house, working on his vast property from dawn until dusk. But each night, after Gray indulged in a quick after-dinner romp with his children, he took off for one of the machinery sheds, claiming he had a problem with a broken tractor.
Holly told herself that mending tractors was what men of the Outback did in the evenings instead of reading the paper, or watching TV like their city counterparts. Her father loved to tinker in his sheds, and she mightn’t have minded Gray’s absence so much if she hadn’t been almost certain that he was dodging conversation with her.
Was he worried that she was waiting to pounce on him with more questions?
Now, at the end of a week of tractor-mending, she wished she knew if she’d said something that had really upset him, or if she was making a mountain out of a molehill. Surely her mind could be put to rest after a simple quick chat?
As she chopped carrots, she decided she would head out to that machinery shed this evening and offer Gray some kind of olive branch…
There was no helpful moonlight when Holly cautiously descended the homestead steps at half past eight, after the children were safely tucked in bed. She made her way across the paddock to the shed by the feeble glow of her flashlight.
A shadow rose from the grass beside her and large wings flapped, making her jump. With a hand pressed to her thumping chest, she thought about turning back, then told herself it was probably an owl and that crossing a paddock at Jabiru Creek was no different from playing hide-and-seek in the barns back home with her brothers.
Just the same, it felt like ages before she reached the yellow light shining through the doorway of the tall corrugated iron shed.
The sound of hammering came from inside. Or was that her heart?
A few more steps brought her through the doorway and inside the shed. She saw rubber tyres of all sizes stacked against a wall. Bits and pieces of rusty machinery. An intact tractor.
Gray—not in the expected overalls, but in his usual faded jeans and an old navy-blue woollen sweater with the sleeves pushed back and a hole at one elbow—was working at a long wooden bench. He’d stopped hammering now and was planing timber, smoothing down the edges of a very large box-shaped object.
Intent on his task, Gray turned slightly and Holly saw the strength in his hands and forearms. She could even sense the movement of his shoulder muscles beneath the thick wool of his sweater.
She turned off her flashlight and put it in her coat pocket. Her palms were sweaty, so she jammed them in her pockets too. Then, feeling like an intruder, she took a deep breath and went three steps deeper into the shed.
She felt ridiculously nervous. Any minute now Gray would look up and she would have to explain why she was here.
She tried to remember the opening she’d rehearsed. Something about his tractor. But he wasn’t working on the tractor…
With her gaze firmly fixed on Gray, she took another step forward—and tripped on a metal pipe, sending it rolling and clattering across the concrete floor.
Gray’s head snapped up and his blue eyes widened with surprise. ‘Holly.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she cried, bending down to rub her smarting ankle.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Yes, I’m fine.’
He came hurrying over to her, wiping his dusty hands on an old rag. ‘Are you sure you’re all right?’
‘The pipe’s probably worse off than I am. It’s okay. Really. Just a bump.’
‘I hope you don’t end up with a bruise.’ A beat later, he said, ‘What are you doing out here?’ His smile was quickly replaced by a frown. ‘Is something wrong? Is it Anna?’
‘No, no. Nothing wrong. A-Anna’s fine.’ Holly’s mouth was suddenly as dry as the sawdust on the floor. She tried to swallow, then remembered that she’d planned to smile to set the right mood. ‘There’s no problem, Gray. The children are sound asleep.’
‘That’s good to hear.’ With hands on his hips, he studied her, a puzzled gleam lurking in his bright blue eyes. ‘So, what brings you out here at this time of night? I thought you’d be curled up with your nose in a book.’
Yes…well…
Now that he was waiting for her answer, Holly felt more foolish than ever. Gray seemed totally relaxed and not at all put out by her sudden appearance, so how could she suggest there was a problem that needed sorting?
‘Have…have you finished the tractor?’ she asked.
‘The tractor?’
‘I…um…thought you were working on one.’
‘Oh, yes. You’ve blown my cover.’ Gray’s eyes twinkled, and then he turned to the bench where he’d been working. ‘I’ve been making something for Anna and Josh, actually. It’s almost done.’
‘Oh,’ she said in a very smal
l voice.
‘Would you like to take a look? I still have to paint it.’
Without waiting for her answer, Gray went back to the bench and picked up the large boxlike frame he’d been working on. Not quite hiding his pride in his workmanship, he set it on the floor.
‘Oh,’ Holly said again when she saw it properly. ‘It’s…it’s a puppet theatre.’
He was grinning. ‘I made the stage high enough for Anna and Josh to stand behind.’
‘It’s perfect.’ Holly meant it. She was amazed and she felt so silly for thinking he’d been avoiding her. She wasn’t even on his radar.
‘They’ll love it,’ she said. ‘Wow. You’ve even made a pointy roof and a little wooden flag to go on top.’
‘And Janet’s making red velvet curtains.’
‘Fantastic!’
So Janet was in on this, too? Holly felt as if the rug had been pulled from beneath her. Here she’d been, all week, stewing about Gray’s sensitive reaction to their conversation, while he’d been busy creating a wonderful surprise for his children.
‘It’s a fabulous idea,’ she said, running her hand over the smooth silky wall of the stage and admiring the fine craftsmanship. ‘Did you say you’re going to paint this?’
‘I thought the kids would like something bright.’ He scratched at the side of his neck. ‘But don’t ask me about colour schemes. Apart from painting the roof red, I’m a bit stumped.’
‘You can’t just nip down to a hardware store, so I suppose it depends on what paint you already have.’
‘Practically every colour under the sun, actually.’ He went over to a cupboard against the wall and flipped it open to reveal several shelves lined with spray cans. ‘Last year there was a ringer working here who moonlighted as a rodeo clown and I helped him to make his props.’
Holly laughed. ‘So you have enough colours to make a rainbow.’
‘I guess I do.’
‘Rainbow walls would be fiddly, but they’d look fabulous.’
Gray considered this, a smile pulling at a corner of his mouth. ‘I’m no Vincent Van Gogh.’ He shot her an amused glance. ‘What about you? Are you handy with a spray can?’