by R. J. Groves
‘What do you think of Robbie selling the farm?’ she asked.
He relaxed the fist he hadn’t realised he’d clenched and leaned back in his seat, placing the picture on the table between them. ‘It doesn’t really matter what I think, does it?’
She shot her gaze towards him, and he tried not to look too deeply into that look. ‘It does to me.’
He let out a long slow breath and polished off his tea. He noticed her sip hers and couldn’t help but think how gorgeous—and comfortable—she looked sitting on his porch having an evening cuppa and chat with him. He could grow used to it. But he knew he shouldn’t.
‘In the end, he’s going to do what he wants to do. I’d love to buy it off him, but—’ He dropped off. Part of him didn’t want to tell her he couldn’t for fear of disappointing her, and the other part, well, he wasn’t quite sure on that.
‘But?’ she prompted, just as he had before.
He smiled. ‘But I can’t afford it. Not unless I miraculously find someone to marry me in the next month.’
She laughed. ‘Why would that change anything?’
He didn’t really want to tell her everything, didn’t want to dive too deep into his family history. Not because she didn’t know it—she did know a lot of it—but because he hated to think about it. That part of his childhood he’d tried hard to push out of his mind. He only wanted to focus on the good parts. Tanner Station. The Tanner family. Jannette. But she smiled at him, and that weakened his resolve. So he told her all about the inheritance and the dilemma he’d found himself in. He told her that if he got the first half on marrying, he could afford to buy the farm between that, what he already had, and what the bank would lend him. And after being married for a year, the second part of his inheritance would pay out what he owed the bank.
‘God,’ she said when he’d finished talking. ‘If only all of our problems could be solved with marriage.’
‘Could they?’ He wasn’t sure where she was headed with that, but as soon as she’d said it, his mind ran wild. Could all their current problems be solved with marriage? His could. And it certainly might help hers.
‘I don’t know,’ she said slowly, looking at him, her brow creased in concentration. ‘Maybe? I mean, if you found a wife you could buy Robbie out and run this place how you want to run it, which would also effectively keep the farm in the family, since you basically are. And if I found a husband I’d be able to legitimately change my name and move in with him and wouldn’t have to worry about being alone or being stalked.’
‘Don’t forget the calves.’
‘What?’
‘If I owned this place, the bobby calves would have an actual purpose. They wouldn’t just be … surplus.’
She laughed. ‘You’re right. The calves would be saved.’
‘So, theoretically, marriage could solve all our problems.’
She laughed again, and he felt it deep within his core. ‘Yes, I suppose it could. I mean, I’m sure you could find someone, but who would I marry?’
‘Me.’
The hell?
His quick response caught him by surprise as much as it clearly did her. Her eyes went wide, her mouth working, but no words coming out. He wasn’t sure if he was feeling a mixture of excitement or extreme nervousness, but what did it matter? They’d both just agreed that marriage could fix both of their problems—at least for a while. And the ideal time for said marriage would be as soon as possible. And neither of them had anyone else to marry …
The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He tried to ignore the hope building inside him mixed with that damn feeling he didn’t want to name yet.
‘What?’ It was only a little over a whisper and mixed with some kind of sound that made him think she couldn’t believe her ears. It was no surprise she’d question it, of course. The whole proposition was outrageous.
But it made sense—in more ways than one.
‘Think about it,’ he said, shifting to the edge of his seat. ‘Jenny, marrying would help both of our current situations, and neither of us know anyone else to make that happen. So …’ He raised his eyebrows, letting what he’d said sink in.
Her mouth worked and only short sounds that formed no words came out of her mouth. She blinked a few times, then seemed to recover. ‘Shannon, if you’re saying what I think you’re saying—’
‘Marry me, Jenny.’
‘Shan—’
‘Just for a year. Or longer, if your stalker thing isn’t resolved by then.’
‘I—I can’t.’
‘Why not?’ Shannon tried to ignore the pounding in his chest. The ache inside him and that hint of desperation for her to say yes, and not just because of the problems they were both dealing with.
‘B—because it’s ridiculous. We’re in the twenty-first century, Shannon. Surely marriages of convenience or whatever you want to call it aren’t a thing anymore.’
‘Says who?’ Her mouth dropped open, and she snapped it shut. ‘Jenny, us marrying would mean I could buy the farm. The farm would stay in the family. I can protect you from whatever creeper is after you, and maybe, if you’re married to someone else, they might leave you alone. You wouldn’t have to worry about what to do next—you’d have time to figure that out. And if—’
He broke off, not sure how she’d take what he was about to say. But it had to be said, because he knew that it was something she really wanted to do. ‘If you want a baby, I can give you one.’ Her eyes went wider than he’d ever seen them, her mouth dropping open again. He put a hand up between them. ‘Either IVF, or adopting, or—or whatever. You can do what you want and not have to worry about finding an income.’ When she didn’t respond but looked like she might actually be considering the idea, he added, ‘Think about Clarabelle.’
She laughed then. ‘I’m not going to make a legal decision over a cow.’
‘Not just any cow. Your cow. You did help bring Clarabelle into the world. It’s only right that she’s yours. Consider her a wedding present.’
She bit into her lip and he couldn’t help but hope that she was seriously considering it. He’d probably freak out later about the rashness of the whole idea, but right now, he couldn’t care less. Every part of his being wanted her to say yes. And he was sure it wasn’t just to buy the farm.
‘You don’t want to marry me,’ she whispered.
He did. The longer this conversation went on, the more he was convinced that he did, indeed, want to marry this woman. ‘I think we could do a whole lot worse, don’t you?’
A smile played at her lips, then she sighed. ‘What about Robbie?’
Ah. The one flaw to his ingenious plan. The brother who was also his best friend. He was sure Robbie would see straight through it. And he knew how protective Robbie could get over Jannette. But so could he.
‘What about him?’
Chapter 9
Jannette’s head was spinning.
She stared down at the picture she’d just got in her redirected mail. It wasn’t hard to pinpoint when or where it was taken. She was walking down her front steps on the day of the wedding—now days earlier—with her luggage bag in one hand, the picture frame she’d found on the bookshelf in the other. Someone had been watching her then.
A chill ran down her spine. But Detective Attler had said they’d found the people who’d broken into the shop, hadn’t he? She remembered what Shannon had said about not knowing if the two incidents were related. Could the break-in at the shop have been a coincidence?
Her hand shook as she reached for her bag before climbing out of her car, knocking it over onto the passenger-side floor in the process.
‘Damn it,’ she said, taking a deep breath.
She had to get a hold of herself. The picture had been sent through redirected mail, meaning whoever had sent it likely had no idea where she was now. She was safe. For now. But she had to talk to Shannon. She hadn’t told Robbie about her concerns—she’d felt silly even telling them to
Shannon. But Shannon had understood. He’d believed her, even if it was just a theory at that point. But this—this new picture—showed that whoever had taken that first photograph was still out there. And had been following her. She shook her head. She’d looked up the street both ways only seconds after that picture was taken and hadn’t seen anyone or anything out of the usual. Certainly not anyone with a camera or a phone pointed at her. For the most part, the street had been deserted, the only real movement coming from the direction of the party. But the party was up the other end of the street from where the picture was taken.
Jannette reached across and shoved everything that had spilled onto the floor back in her handbag, registering the pile of envelopes Shannon had given her a week before. She still had to go through all those and make a note of when the bills were due. She froze when a thought occurred to her. What if there was another one of these pictures in there somewhere? She started flicking through the still-sealed envelopes—bill … bill—and just about jumped out of her skin when someone tapped on the window of the car. Dropping the envelopes in her lap, she jerked her gaze towards the sound and relaxed a little to see Robbie there. He opened the car door.
‘You okay, kid? You seem a bit jumpy.’
She gathered up the envelopes as quickly as she could, being careful not to show the picture, and shoved them all in her handbag. ‘All good,’ she said, flashing her best smile even though she wasn’t really feeling it. ‘Just wasn’t expecting you. I’m making Mum’s egg and bacon pie for dinner, but I’ve got a lot to do before then.’ Her and her mother had long ago learned not to call it quiche around the men. God knows why it should make a difference. She climbed out of her car, her handbag slung over her shoulder, and moved around to the boot to get the groceries.
‘Sounds good, kid. Need a hand bringing things in?’
‘Nope, I’m fine. Haven’t got much.’ She picked up the two shopping bags to prove her point, closed the boot, and locked the car, heading towards the house. She paused at the bottom of the steps, her gaze drifting to the step that should still have a hole from her heel in it, but didn’t. In fact, each of the steps had been replaced with new sturdy wooden ones.
‘Shannon’s been busy,’ Robbie said, stopping beside her.
He had, indeed. The thought that he’d been so considerate warmed her insides, despite the turmoil she felt.
By the time she’d got inside and put the groceries away, Robbie had made his way back to his office where he seemed to be spending a lot of time lately. She put the last of the fruit in the fruit bowl, grabbed her handbag and went upstairs to change back into her farm clothes. And to check those envelopes again.
After a few minutes, she’d dressed in her jeans and flannelette shirt and sat on the edge of her bed, the envelopes in her hand. It didn’t take long to sort them into piles—bills, junk mail, unknown. The unknown pile consisted of one envelope and she held it in her hands. She took a deep breath and slowly opened the envelope, bracing herself for another strange photograph, only to find a folded piece of paper instead. She opened it up, the blood rushing from her body as she read it.
Did you get my message?
Nothing particularly sinister on its own, but if it was connected to the photographs and potentially the break-in at the shop …
Jannette couldn’t believe she’d had that note in her bag for a week before reading it—a week! Sure, the note would have been sent before the police had found the supposed suspects, practically rendering it invalid if it were the same people. But that last picture …
What the hell was she going to do now?
The address on the envelope that had delivered the picture proved that whoever had sent it still thought she was in Perth. But it would only be a matter of time before they realised she wasn’t going back home every day. Especially since they’d been in her street when she’d gone back to get more things. Would they discover where she was? She hoped it wasn’t just paranoia talking. But at the same time, she hoped it was all just a prank. Having a stalker was a serious matter. But did she want to risk not doing anything about it if it wasn’t a prank?
Her chest tightened as she thought back on her conversation with Shannon after the wedding. He’d offered her a solution. It had sounded absolutely ridiculous at the time, and they hadn’t spoken of it since. But maybe—just maybe—the ridiculousness of it might just work. Maybe it was exactly what she needed to shake this stalker.
She’d have to sell the house. Even if she rented it out for the next year or so, she knew she’d never be comfortable going back—even if the stalker had been found or whatever this was dwindled out. She ran a hand through her freshly dyed hair. She’d already taken it back to its natural light sandy colour and got it cut to just above her shoulders in the hope that she wouldn’t be immediately recognised. Surely whoever was stalking her wouldn’t recognise her with new hair and dressed in a flannelette shirt, jeans, work boots and an Akubra hat. They’d only know the Perth Jannette. The city girl. Now she was someone else.
Now she was Jenny, a country girl. A farmer.
And she knew what she had to do.
***
Shannon watched as a horse and rider approached him at a trot. He leaned against the fence post and wiped the back of his hand across his forehead. He’d been out tightening some of the fence lines that had gone a little slack. Or so he’d told himself. He wasn’t so sure anymore since he hadn’t been able to concentrate on jobs as much the past few days.
Not since he’d proposed to Jannette.
Sure, it wasn’t a proper proposal, as such. It was a proposition for a convenient marriage with an end date. Something that was totally against everything he’d ever wanted. The whole throwing himself all in and what-not. But what if the end date came and went and they decided to stay married? He was sure that he and Jannette could have a comfortable marriage. They already had a friendship and got along well enough and they seemed to agree on the important things they’d discussed. Could falling in love be possible?
The way his heart raced at the thought showed him it very clearly was for him. But whether or not she’d love him back …
If she ever agreed to his ridiculous notion.
She’d left that night without giving him a proper answer—except for calling it a crazy idea. Which it was. It was insane, really. But even after a few days of mulling it over, it still made sense.
The rider came to a halt and slid off the horse, pacing towards him. He’d recognised the clothes and Akubra as Jannette’s while she’d approached, but the woman wearing them looked a little different. Like the girl he’d known seventeen years ago.
‘Shan, we need to talk.’
Straight to it, then? He let out a long breath. ‘You do something with your hair, Jenny?’ he said, waving a hand near his head for emphasis.
She faltered, her eyes connecting with his, a hand reaching to her hair instinctively. ‘I did.’
‘It suits you.’ Much more than the city-girl look she’d had going on, if he said so himself. The twinge he felt below only proved his body agreed with his head for once.
‘Thanks,’ she said, then thrust something into his hands and plopped her hands on her hips, then folded them over her chest.
She was fidgeting. Something was wrong. He looked down at what she’d given him and his blood boiled. Another picture. He didn’t need her to explain when or where it was taken—he already knew. He’d know that dress anywhere. And a note. He scanned the words and felt his free hand clench at his side. He looked up at her.
‘When did you get these?’
‘The picture today,’ she said. ‘And the note was in the pile of envelopes you gave me last week but I’d only just read it.’
He forced his hand to unclench and rubbed it over the soft bristles on his chin. He held the picture up. ‘Before or after talking to the detective?’
‘After.’
He grabbed his hat off his head and threw it, swearing and letting out a
roar he didn’t even know he’d had in him. She barely flinched. So this was serious, then. Someone was out there and was stalking her and they had no way to prove it and no way of knowing who it could be. How could they take nothing to the police? How could he keep her safe if she didn’t let him? What the fuck was he supposed to do?
‘Shannon—’
‘Jenny, this is—I don’t—I—’ She placed a tender hand on his forearm.
‘Shan.’ He looked into her eyes and saw that she wasn’t freaking out anywhere near as much as he was. ‘You were right. Let’s do it.’
Let’s do it. Did she mean what he thought she did—what he hoped she meant?
‘Jenny.’
‘Let’s get married.’
Chapter 10
‘Hell no.’
‘Robbie—’
‘No. Fucking. Way.’
Jannette let out a groan. What had gotten up Robbie’s nose? She’d known telling him that she and Shannon were getting married was going to be hard, but he was overreacting.
‘Robbie, you’re being unreasonable,’ she said, trying not to sound defensive.
His eyes went wide. ‘I’m being unreasonable?’ He jabbed a finger in Shannon’s direction.
Jannette was grateful for the table between them, but she had a feeling her egg and bacon pie was going to go cold before any of them had a chance to touch it. She’d wanted to wait until after they’d eaten, but once silence had filled the room and Robbie could clearly see that something was going on, Shannon had talked her into getting it over with.
Well.
She supposed Robbie would have acted the same with or without food in his belly. Perhaps it was best to have told him before they ate—lack of sustenance and all that.
‘You barely know the guy!’
‘In case you haven’t realised, I’ve known him most of my life.’
‘We were kids!’
Robbie yelled as though trying to knock some sense into her. She swallowed. How were they going to get him on board without telling him the full reason? The fact that they were only marrying to help deal with their immediate problems and that they were going to have an end date—whenever that may be—was not going to help convince him. If anything, it would make it worse.
