Their Perfect Blend
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Their Perfect Blend
Sarah Williams
Copyright © 2020 by Sarah Williams
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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.
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Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
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Cover design: Lana Pecherczyk.
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ISBN 978-0-6485380-4-2 Print Edition
ISBN 978-0-6485380-3-5 Digital Edition
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Serenade Publishing
www.serenadepublishing.com
To my son, Toby
Contents
Also by Sarah Williams
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
About the Author
Also by Sarah Williams
Also by Sarah Williams
Also by Sarah Williams
Also by Sarah Williams
Also by Sarah Williams
Acknowledgments
Also by Sarah Williams
Brigadier Station Series:
The Brothers of Brigadier Station
The Sky over Brigadier Station
The Legacies of Brigadier Station
The Outback Governess (A Sweet Outback Novella)
Christmas at Brigadier Station (An Outback Christmas Novella)
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Heart of the Hinterland Series:
The Dairy Farmer’s Daughter
Their Perfect Blend
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For more information visit:
www.sarahwilliamsauthor.com
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Chapter 1
Greer Montgomery shifted her mouse so the arrow on the computer screen hovered over the tab titled Using donor sperm and clicked.
She cruised over the myriad of headings and information before stopping on the third line. How to choose a sperm donor.
She clicked again, then paused. Was this really what she wanted? Letting go of the mouse, she stretched back, entwining her fingers together behind her head. She took a long, deep breath and turned away from the computer to stare out the huge windows where the first brilliant rays of sunshine poured in. Greer studied the rolling green pastures. She would never get sick of that view. It was the same view she had grown up gazing upon. The same paddocks she had spent her childhood running through and exploring.
“Morning, sis.” Freya’s voice jolted Greer from her thoughts and before she could minimise the search window, her younger sister was wrapping her arms and her cow stench around her.
“Shit, Freya. Where did you come from?” She moved to close the laptop but Freya stilled her hand.
“Hey what’s this?” Freya peered over Greer’s shoulder and read from the website. “The reasons for people needing to access donor sperm are varied, and include heterosexual couples having difficulty conceiving because of male reproductive issues, women in same-sex relationships keen to start a family, and single women who want to have a child.”
Greer sighed. “A desperate woman’s last chance.”
Freya and Greer had casually chatted about fertility treatments and other options Greer could consider. She was desperate to have a baby of her own, and with her thirtieth birthday only a few months away, she was hearing the clanging of her biological clock louder than ever.
“I know we joked about it the other day, but I didn’t think you were really that serious.” Freya moved to sit on the stool beside her sister.
“Look at this.” Greer brought up another screen with more facts on it before reading aloud. “According to the American Society for Reproductive Medicine, a healthy thirty-year-old woman has about a twenty per cent chance of getting pregnant each month, while a forty-year-old woman has about a five per cent chance. The reason for this is your ovarian reserve, the quality and quantity of your eggs.”
“Twenty per cent? And to think that at school we were taught how to avoid getting pregnant.”
Greer turned to her sister. This was serious. Her future happiness rested on what she did now. “I want at least one baby, maybe two, with a spacing of two to three years in between. I have to start now or I’m going to run out of time.”
Freya reached her arm around Greer’s shoulder and squeezed. “What about fate? You never know when you’re going to meet the one. He could walk into the café tomorrow.”
“Not all of us are as lucky as you.” Greer hated the pang of envy she felt when she saw Freya and Justin together. Theirs had been love at first sight. Destiny and all that jazz. But Greer had never even come close to being in love. Her career had always been her first priority—cooking in a Michelin-starred restaurant, learning recipes and techniques from some of the world’s best.
With that goal accomplished, she had moved on to the next—becoming a mother. She had expected love and family to fall into place when she moved back to Maleny. But two years on, life had not played out that way at all.
“You really think someone’s going to come to our farm and whisk me off my feet? I mean, there are no eligible men left in the area. Why do they all marry so young here? All the good ones are taken, and the rest have moved away.”
“What about online dating then? He doesn’t have to be a local.”
Greer shook her head. “I love living here. We have the business and our family. This is where I want to raise my children. I don’t want to have to move or have a long-distance relationship.” Greer dropped her head into her hands and leaned over the kitchen bench.
She could be a single mum. It would be fine. Her family would support her, and she had enough male relatives to make sure her offspring didn’t miss out on anything of testosterone importance.
“Do Mum and Dad know what you’re planning?”
Greer shook her head against her hands. She wasn’t ready to discuss it with her folks just yet—not until she’d made her final decision. They’d support her no matter what decision she made.
“Well, whatever you decide to do, Justin and I are here for you. We love you.”
Greer raised her head and looked at her sister with her big brown eyes and kind features. Justin was a lucky man. “When’s he back from Brisbane?”
“This afternoon.” Freya’s face brightened with that lovesick glow.
“That’s nice he’s home for the weekend. I am so happy for you.” Greer smiled and busied herself preparing breakfast as Freya talked about their upcoming plans.
Freya had recently moved in with Justin at his house next door, but she got awfully lonely when he wasn’t there, so often stayed with her family while he was away.
“We have a plumber coming tomorrow. I can’t wait for the bathroom refit,” Freya said. The simple house was in desperate need of renovations and the couple were excited to make it their own. The dairy farm that it sat on was being leased by Greer’s family, and had proven a p
rofitable business decision for the Emerald Hills empire.
Justin wasn’t a farmer and had never pretended to be one. He had recently turned down a huge offer on his late father’s property in order to keep it as a working dairy farm. It had been a startling move, but he didn’t seem to regret it.
Greer loved being a part of their family business. Moving home to open the café had been a big decision, but it had been the right one for her. The hustle and bustle of the big cities had finally surpassed Greer’s country-girl tolerance, and after a decade, enough was enough. Now she was home and her café was doing a brilliant trade bringing in hungry tourists after their farm tour or cheese tasting. The only thing missing was a man to share her life with and children to watch grow. She could only wish that she might one day meet someone who made her as happy as Justin made Freya.
She couldn’t deny her envious thoughts that her younger sister had met her soulmate before her. And while she still dreamed of one day meeting someone, the yearning to have a baby far outweighed snatching Mr Right first.
Greer’s heart sank a little more as she poured the batter for the pancakes into the heated pan. “Go wash up, will you? As much as I love your perfume of choice, it does not make for a great aperitif before breakfast.”
Freya playfully poked out her tongue before heading to the bathroom.
Left alone to finish cooking, Greer’s thoughts returned to her current dilemma.
Would she ever hold her own child in her arms? Or would she end up being the single aunty who baked special treats and birthday cakes for her nieces and nephews? The spinster sister surrounded by all her cookbooks and fancy kitchen appliances but with no family of her own.
No. This was the twenty-first century. Women had babies on their own all the time and she was a strong, independent woman who could do anything she set her mind to. It was time to stop dreaming and start acting. Being a mother had always been in her plan. It was the next step in her life, and something she desperately wanted.
Even if it meant doing it on her own.
Greer reversed into the angled parking spot on Maple Street, right in front of Meredith’s coffee shop. It been a busy day at Emerald Hills, with a bus full of tourists to feed and many travellers enjoying the cooler country air and farm activities offered.
People were starting to leave town now, their cars loaded with shopping bags, no doubt having visited the art galleries and antique shops. Things rarely slowed down in the small hinterland town—not even in the winter months.
The late afternoon sun warmed her back as Greer lifted the trolley from her car and stacked two crates of milk, boxes of yoghurt, and cheese onto it—all produced at Emerald Hills. She pushed the trolley down the side alley and stopped abruptly when she came face-to-face with a large black dog who lay sprawled across the open back door.
She moved gingerly toward the dog. It looked quiet enough, but it was a big dog. A very big, shaggy dog.
“Hi there.” She tried for confidence as she nudged it with her foot. “Can you move out of the way so I can wheel this stuff inside?”
The dog raised its huge black head and took its time eyeing her off, as if wondering if she was worth the effort it would take to move.
Greer chewed on the inside of her mouth, wondering if it would just be easier to go in through the front, when the dog suddenly launched itself upright. Standing, he was even bigger than she’d imagined, and she instinctively took a step backwards. He moved toward the trolley, stretching his hind legs as he went, before stopping to sniff the cartons.
“Thank you,” Greer said as she reclaimed the trolley and pushed it past the animal, hurrying to get inside before it changed its mind and chased after her. When had Meredith gotten a dog? And why on earth had she chosen this one?
“Hello,” she called out when she was safely inside the kitchen.
Meredith’s flushed face popped around the corner. “Hey! Good timing. We just locked the front door.” She cleared the path for Greer to push the trolley in front of the fridge in the pantry.
“When did you get Hagrid?” Greer motioned over her shoulder at the drooling beast. The dog was watching them, his head cocked as he let go of a soft whine.
“You lie yourself right back down, Hercules.” Meredith waved a finger and the dog politely obeyed her command.
“Don’t mind him. He’s my brother’s dog.” A smile tilted the corner of Meredith’s mouth. “Why don’t you join us for a cuppa?”
“Us?” Greer sneaked a peek through the kitchen serving window. The chairs were stacked in neat piles by the door and Greer couldn’t see anyone else.
“Yeah, Hamish brought over my coffee order. He doesn’t go anywhere without Herc these days. Go through. I’ll just put these away.” She started unpacking the tubs of yogurt.
“Okay.” Greer could use a coffee after the day she’d had. She made her way past the kitchen and into the front of the shop. She loved Meredith’s bohemian décor with hanging green plants and groovy artwork. Emerald Hills was decorated with more of a traditional homestead feel with historical photos and antiques for visitors to study.
Behind the serving counter, she saw the man’s profile as he busily cleaned the industrial coffee machine. The rolled-up sleeves of his flannel shirt revealed strong arms, with what looked like symbolic tattoos on his left arm.
“Hi,” Greer said as she passed the empty cake display on the counter.
He turned to look at her with large caramel eyes, the same colour as the toffee sauce she poured over her sticky date puddings.
“Hi. Can I help you with something?” he asked in a deep, sexy voice which caused goose bumps to rise on her arms.
“I’m Greer Montgomery. I just dropped off some milk from Emerald Hills and Meredith invited me for a coffee.” She studied his face, noting the family resemblance between the siblings and wondering why she had never met him before. Unless she had and didn’t remember him? Then again, his was a face any woman would remember with his moulded cheekbones, the firm angle of his jaw, and the long, dark lashes framing those eyes.
Yep, she was pretty sure she’d remember him.
“So, you’re Greer?” He smiled as he wiped his hands on his jeans before turning and extending one for her to shake. “I’m Hamish Pearson.”
Greer sucked in her breath as his palm connected with hers. She watched as the colour of his cheeks deepened in the same way she was sure hers did.
“It’s nice to meet you.” The words tumbled from her lips.
Their hands held a fraction longer than etiquette required and he let go suddenly as the coffee machine beeped, breaking the odd trance which had begun to take hold of her.
Hamish turned his attention back to the machine. “What’ll you have?”
“Flat white, thanks,” Greer said as she backed away from the counter.
Meredith strolled into the room dusting crumbs from her apron.
“Busy day?” Greer asked her friend.
“Sure was. You too?” Meredith sat heavily at a table and motioned for Greer to sit next to her
“Yep, but busy is good.” Greer sat across the table from Meredith before sneaking a glance at Hamish.
Meredith caught her looking. “You know my little brother, don’t you? He’s the man behind Maleny Roast’d.”
Greer sat up straighter and raised her eyebrows. “That’s you! You’re responsible for my caffeine addiction. I love that stuff.” Some days she felt like she lived purely on coffee, and Maleny Roast’d was her preferred brew. “We sell it at the farm too. It’s very popular.”
Hamish sent her a humbled smile. “Glad you enjoy it.”
A memory of a boy from her childhood suddenly popped into her head. “You were a few years behind us at school, weren’t you?”
He came around the counter and placed two cups of coffee on the table. “That’s right. We were on the same bus.”
Greer nodded slowly. “I remember you now.”
Meredith pushed a cu
p toward her. “There you go—just the way you like it.”
Greer lifted the cup to her lips and closed her eyes, allowing the rich, earthy aroma to drift up her nose at the same time as sharp, roasted freshness ran over her tongue and slid down her throat. Bliss.
She couldn’t help the moan of pleasure that escaped her lips. “God, it’s even better when he makes it.”
Meredith giggled and Greer’s cheeks burned.
Hamish joined them a moment later, a cup in his hands, and sat opposite her. He smelled a tantalising mix of coffee and hard work. She hid her face behind the cup and willed her heart to stop pounding.
“Greer is the woman who can out-cook and out-bake any pro from here to Melbourne and back … and she has the awards to prove it.” Meredith bragged of her friend. Although both were chefs, neither felt the need to compete for accolades or business. There was plenty to go around.
“So, I’ve heard.” Hamish leaned back in the chair and crossed one long leg over the other. “I’ve grabbed takeaway from Emerald Hills a few times when I do deliveries. I really enjoy your quiches and pies.”
Greer frowned. He delivered the coffee and she hadn’t seen him? Then again, she was always so focused on cooking she rarely left the kitchen.
She tried to recall what she knew of her friend’s little brother. They hadn’t been in the same circle of friends, and she only vaguely remembered him from childhood play dates.