"Hungry," he said between chuckles. "Hungry! Hungry!"
"Dinner's almost ready." She turned to Logan with a tender gaze.
A burning smell drew his attention back to the fire pit. He had neglected the cooking sausages, so caught up in his thoughts. Quickly, he turned them over with the tongs, but in doing so he put his fingers too close to the open flame.
"Bugger." He withdrew his hand quickly and shook it.
"Are you okay?" Paige was at his side immediately and reached for his injured hand, turning his palm in her own soft hands.
He watched her curiously. She smelled sweet. Like mango and lychees. His favourite tropical fruits.
"It'll be okay." He shrugged, the biting pain was not nearly as bad as some of the injuries he had sustained in the past, but he did enjoy the attention he was receiving.
"Do you have any aloe vera?" She looked up into his eyes and he was struck by just how dazzling a shade of pale amber brown they were, similar to those of a grey kangaroo.
He shook his head. "I think there's some in the kitchen. But it will be fine."
"Nonsense. I'll go get it. In the meantime, put your hand on this." She handed him an ice-cold water bottle from the esky. The coolness against the burn had a pleasant numbing effect.
"Scotty, come with me. We need to get Daddy some medicine and I need your help finding it." She scooped up the little boy's hand and they trotted off to the house.
Logan touched his hand where moments ago her fingers had been. It tingled from her touch and her hypnotic scent lingered in the still air around him.
Paige found the first aid kit in a kitchen cupboard, just where Scotty had led her. She rifled through bandages and tablet packages until she found a tube of aloe vera ointment.
"Just what Daddy needs." She smiled at the young boy whose big eyes gazed up at her. He looked so like his father, but without the rough, life-hardened edges. Would he grow to be a man like his father? Or would he keep his sweet innocence?
Hand-in-hand they walked back down to the river, following the scent of sausages cooking and the sounds of the girls playing.
Paige knew it the moment Logan’s eyes found her. Although still a distance away, she sensed him studying her. A shiver ran down her spine and she licked her dry lips.
It had been a long time since she had felt an attraction to a man, and oh, what a man Logan was. As she drew closer, she dared to look in his direction. His eyes were still on her and she felt her skin warm under his intense gaze.
"Scotty, why don't you go get your sisters?" Logan suggested as Paige sat next to him on the log.
"Can we play for a bit longer?" the young boy pleaded.
"Okay. Just a little longer or the sausages will get cold." The heat had dissolved to fatherly love and Paige wondered if she had imagined the desire in his eyes.
"Give me your hand," she said as she unscrewed the lid of the cream. He offered his reddened palm to her and she studied the lines and calluses there. Squirting cream on her own fingers first, she massaged it into his hand. It was warm from the burn and rough. Her mind drifted, wondering how his hands might feel on her soft skin. Her own loud intake of breath startled her back to reality and she realized she had taken much longer than needed and the cream was well and truly rubbed in. His hand was now resting on her thigh, his body close enough that she could smell his manly scent.
Again, she felt him watching her. She slowly raised her head to find him only a breath away. Eyes glazed with wanting.
She gazed at his mouth, surrounded by dark stubble. Lips parted and ready. She moved slowly, closer and closer…
"Paige!" Brooke shouted, breaking the moment. Paige jumped up from the log and turned in the young girl's direction.
Brooke stood defiantly, hands on hips. "Layla is being bossy. I don't like it."
Embarrassed and shocked by her own behaviour, Paige scrambled for an excuse to get away from Logan.
"Well, it's time to eat anyway." She pushed her hair away from her face, feeling the heat of her skin. "Let's go get the others."
She hurried off into the bush. Away from the man she had almost kissed.
"Bedtime." Paige clapped her hands. Logan watched from his seat at the dining room table as his children slowly clambered from the couch where they had been watching TV. Although they complained that they weren't tired, Logan could see shadows forming under their eyes.
As they left the room to brush their teeth, Logan turned his attention back to the laptop in front of him. He had just finished off the email, ordering more molasses for the cattle, when he heard the water shut off and the children being herded into their beds.
"Logan, come say goodnight," Paige called out. He frowned to himself. When was the last time he had tucked his children in?
Obediently, he walked down the hallway, glancing at family photos on the walls as he went. His own childhood captured and displayed as well as his children's. And there was Fiona and himself at their wedding.
"Daddy!" Scotty stretched out his arms as he turned into the doorway. His eyes wide and hopeful. Logan sat next to him and embraced his son. Scotty's slight, bony form curled into him, warm and fresh-smelling from his shower.
"Love you, Daddy." His voice was barely above a whisper. Tears stung at Logan's eyes. He squeezed them shut.
"I love you too, mate."
He opened his eyes in time to see Paige peeking around the door. A smile curving her mouth.
Scotty talked him into reading three story books, and then promptly feel asleep halfway through the first one. Logan gently slid out of his son's tight embrace and gazed at his child for a moment. He looked so like his mother. His heart clenched in that way it always did when thinking of Fiona.
Paige had already read to Brooke and Layla, but they too wanted long cuddles and kisses with their father. Had they always been this affectionate? So in need of attention?
He returned to the kitchen to find Paige cleaning the kitchen benches.
"Do you ever stop cleaning?" he asked as he reached around her for a glass.
She startled and bumped into him. Suddenly they were pressed up against each other. He could feel her softness against his chest. Her breathing came hard and fast, as though she had just been running. She glanced up at him with an unreadable expression. He meant to look away but all he could think was, that for the second time that day he had the strongest desire to kiss her and taste those sweet-looking lips.
She stepped back and bumped against the bench. "Are the kids all in bed? I should give you some privacy."
"Okay." Logan combed his hand through his hair. What was he thinking? Paige was an employee and the best damn governess they could hope to have.
"Goodnight." He watched as she retreated from the house. He would have to hide his emotions better. To lock them away in that part of his heart where Fiona lived on. He couldn't risk being hurt again. He didn't think he could survive it.
Besides, he had been lucky enough to love one woman. A man like him didn't deserve happiness twice in his life. And Paige could do better anyway. She was still young and unattached. She could do anything, live anywhere. This is not the life she would choose. No one would want him and this life.
Chapter Seven
Look at the size of this monster." Scotty picked up a huge, grey yabbie and waved it in Paige's face. She stepped back with a shudder as the crustacean's nippers thrashed out.
"Put it in the bucket, Scotty." Logan warned and threw her an apologetic look.
Paige watched as he helped Brooke pull on a rope and bring up the net from the river in a rush of water, covering their boots.
Brooke stared in awe at the strange looking creatures and poked a stick at them. This caused them to scuttle around and swipe at the weapon.
Logan opened the net and they pulled out their prisoners before transferring them to the waiting bucket.
"There's plenty here for dinner." Logan grinned as he hoisted the full bucket into the ute and helped the c
hildren climb onto the tray. They only had a short drive from the river to the house, and, as much as Paige feared for their safety, she knew it wasn't her place to insist on taking a vehicle with seat belts. This is what country kids did.
"How do you cook them?" she asked Logan as they drove.
"Boil them up in a pot. They taste like crayfish and lobster." He glanced at her. "Hope you like seafood."
Her mouth watered. "I love seafood. My mum makes the most amazing marinara."
He frowned. "Never tried that. It's pasta, right?"
"It's a mixture of mussels, clams and prawns in a yummy tomato sauce. You serve it with spaghetti." She swallowed. "It's delicious."
"Sounds good. I don't think the kids have ever had clams and mussels either."
"It's probably hard to get out here." She smiled thinking about her sojourns into the seafood markets in Melbourne to collect fresh fish for family dinners. Now she was really hungry.
Back at the house, Logan took charge of the cooking, but he had four eager assistants on hand to help. The yabbies were boiled in a big pot on the stove until their shells changed colour.
Logan dumped the red and orange tinged yabbies onto newspaper in the middle of the table and showed them how to pull the tails away from the body and peel them.
"Keep the big claws too, the meat’s nice and sweet."
Paige took one, it was still hot from the water, but the kids had already pulled apart many, so she decided she'd better get started. Digging her nails into the middle, she began to pull. She couldn't help squinting and gritting her teeth.
"You got it." Logan reached over and showed her how to remove the shell. His musky scent mingled with the faint river smell of the crustaceans.
Her fingers were sore from the little cuts from the shell and the yabbie juices were probably splattered all over her, but she was having fun.
Brooke started singing as she worked, making up a silly song about being a yabbie. "I'm a little yabbie fat and round, here is my nipper, here is my bum."
Scotty started laughing hysterically at the word bum and soon they all joined in, making up lyrics.
"I'm going to taste yummy in Scotty's tummy."
Logan chuckled. Paige gazed at his happy, wistful expression. She liked hearing him laugh like that. He seemed a man who didn't laugh often, so when he did it was full of warmth and meaning.
Logan buttered slices of bread and handed them around the table. He noticed Paige was grinning from ear to ear, she seemed to really be enjoying herself. She had slipped easily into their family, filling the hole that had been vacant for so long.
He filled his sandwich with the warm yabbie meat and bit into it. Unable to help a sigh escape his lips as the buttery sweetness filled his mouth.
Silence fell as everyone munched through their sandwiches.
"Can we have this every night?" Brooke asked, cheeks full of crust.
"You'll eat all the yabbies in the creek if you do that," Logan teased. His little girl pouted in reply and his heart melted. She was growing up into a beautiful child and he realised just how much he had already missed of her innocent childhood.
Tired and with full tummies, the evening routine lacked its usual chaos and the children were happy enough to go to bed with only one story each.
"Daddy read." Brooke sat in her bed, arms crossed over her chest.
He smiled and slipped under the sheets next to her. Within seconds Scotty and Layla had jumped on the bed too and were snuggling in.
"Paige," Scotty yelled out. "Story."
Paige appeared at the door, drying her hands with a tea towel. "Daddy's reading tonight."
"I want you too." He patted the space next to him on the bed.
Logan smiled at her. "Come on, we'll make room."
She sat at the end of the bed and Scotty curled up on her lap.
One story turned into four. Finally, they were allowed off the bed when Brooke started falling asleep.
Layla crawled to her own bed and was kissed goodnight, but Scotty insisted on being carried to his room. Logan placed his son's long body into bed and pulled up the sheets.
"Night night, Daddy."
"Goodnight, son. I love you."
Stepping back, he waited by the door as Paige took her turn. She knelt by the bed and stroked his son's head with gentle fingers. Scotty closed his eyes in sheer delight and for Logan it brought back strong memories of Fiona doing the same thing. He felt his throat constrict, his eyes blurring, and he made a quick exit back to the safety of the kitchen.
He pulled out a can of beer and sat in a recliner in the living room. He retrieved the remote and turned off the TV. Letting quiet settle in the cosy room, filled with photos and childhood memories. He closed his eyes and tried to squeeze away memories of Fiona until white spots filled his eyes.
"Are you okay?" Paige's voice was gentle, like a warm caress.
He swiped at his eyes. "I'm fine, thanks."
She stood next to him. "Today was a good day. Having yabbies for dinner was a great idea." She shifted her weight when he didn't reply. "I'll leave you to it then. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Paige."
She turned back and he thought he saw something glimmer in eyes.
Later, when crickets throbbed in the quiet night and a cow bellowed to its calf somewhere off in the distance, Logan sat on the old wooden bench on the front veranda, idly threading fishing line and sinkers. His children had enjoyed catching yabbies so much he decided fishing in the river would also be a fun way to pass the time and keep their minds off Dad’s illness.
He'd found himself enjoying their company and actually laughing. He hadn't done much of that since Fiona had died. He wouldn't have spent today with the children if his father wasn't sick and if Paige wasn't there. She had been a healthy influence on all of them it seemed. The children were eager to learn and happier than he had seen them in years.
He was fascinated with Paige; her family and history intrigued him. She had deep-seated family bonds that stemmed from respect for her parents and their understanding that they had raised her to be a confident, independent woman who had her family’s support and understanding. He hadn't realised it was the way he felt about his own parents. They were helping him through this terrible time in his life, but he suddenly realised how much he was taking their love and support for granted.
He needed to teach his own children by example. A strong role model was what they needed.
Paige's intelligence showed through her eyes. For someone so young she had experience and insight beyond her years. She had already taught him so much about his own children and how best to parent them.
He gazed towards the school house. Light escaped under the curtains in her bedroom and his mind drifted, wondering what she was doing. School planning? Reading a book?
The demountable building got terribly hot in summer. He should talk to his parents about installing air conditioning. Once they had money to spend on frivolous things, that was.
"Dad?"
Logan turned from the donga and saw his oldest daughter standing in the doorway. Her long hair tumbled over her shoulder.
"What are you doing up Layla?"
"I had a bad dream. About Mum." She rubbed at her eyes.
Logan put aside his work and beckoned her to him. She fell into his arms, snuggling her head against his neck. He couldn't remember the last time she had been so affectionate. Maybe as a baby.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He stroked her hair. So much like her mother’s.
Layla sniffed. "I was talking to her. Just me and her like we used to, lying on your bed. Then I woke up and she was gone."
Logan felt the familiar ache in his throat.
"I just miss her so much." Her voice cracked as her tears started, wetting his neck. He held her tight and murmured about how he missed her too and that she was watching them from heaven. What else could he say? He knew nothing would ease the pain of losing such a devoted wife and mother like Fi
ona. She was one of a kind.
"Daddy, do you think you'll ever get married again?" Layla pulled back and looked in his eyes.
She would know if he was lying and he didn't want to be untruthful.
"I don't know sweetheart. Probably not."
"I hope you do." She leaned back against him. "You made Mummy really happy."
Logan felt the sting start in his eyes, but he couldn't fight it. The tears slid silently from his eyes. Visions of the good times resurfacing from the depths of his memory. They had had a good life once and he vowed to be a better father and ensure his children had a happy, safe childhood.
Chapter Eight
The schoolroom was buzzing with early morning activity. Paige was at her desk marking papers while Scotty took a speech therapy lesson on one computer, Brooke coloured on the floor and Layla was happily listening into her lesson hosted by her School of the Air teacher. Her headphones in place she watched her teacher online from the studio in Longreach.
Up until the Internet had become mainstream, these lessons would have been taught via postal correspondence or, in the earlier days, over the Royal Flying Doctor radio frequency. This is why it was called School of the Air. The history and sheer reach of the program still amazed Paige and she was proud to be involved in such an innovative program.
The door opened with a screech and Paige's heart pounded when Logan popped his head around. He motioned to the kids and mouthed an apology.
Paige walked over and stood in front of him, not wanting to distract them children from their work.
He stepped away and she took in the sight of him in his work clothes. Blue pants, worn work boots and a bright orange work shirt with a horizontal fluorescent strip. He smelled like grease and fuel and for some reason she liked it.
"Sorry to interrupt." He wiped his hands on his pants. "I just got off the phone with Mum."
Paige felt her body stiffen. "What's happened? Is Hugh okay?"
"He had surgery yesterday, they didn't want to worry us. He's okay now, he’s doing much better."
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