The Farmer's Perfect Match

by Marilyn Forsyth

  Evie: Yeah. We should have.

  Chrissy: A pity you guys got stranded for the morning. I’m more than happy to have the camera around but Adam resents the constant intrusion, and you know how he is … or maybe you don’t? Anyway, once he’s made up his mind about something …

  Evie: Let’s get back to the questions. What are your feelings about Adam after the date?

  Chrissy: (Sighs/smiles) He’s totally my type.

  Evie: What type of man are you looking for?

  Chrissy: Tall and well built.

  Evie: I was thinking more along the lines of personal qualities.

  Chrissy: Oh. He should be kind and caring and love animals. And enjoy the simple things in life. Like I do.

  Evie: Really? Simple things like …?

  Chrissy: Lazy Sundays, walks on the beach, watching the sun go down. Oh, and camping out. Stuff like that.

  Evie: You enjoy doing it rough?

  Chrissy: You sound like you don’t believe me.

  Evie: Sorry, didn’t mean to.

  Chrissy: Don’t let this (Indicates self) fool you. I want to look good for the camera but underneath I’m tough enough, don’t you worry.

  Evie: Oh, I believe you.

  Chrissy: Good.

  Evie: Back to last night. I’m guessing you two got close?

  Chrissy: Oh yeah, we got … close. (Licks lips) And I’m looking forward to more of that from now on.

  Evie: Has he told you how he feels about you?

  Chrissy: Let’s just say that Adam’s made it quite clear he can see me in his future.

  Evie: Really? Wow, that’s a big step for a shy country boy.

  Chrissy: He’s not shy when you get to know him. (Smug smile)

  Evie: What did he actually say to you?

  Chrissy: I don’t think I should repeat something as private as that.

  Evie: So that’s a no?

  Chrissy: I think it’s enough to say, after last night I’m pretty confident of taking out this competition. (Rubs hands together)

  (End interview)

  CHAPTER

  17

  Evie ran the tip of her tongue over dry lips; the air in the editing room was thick enough to taste. Her gaze flicked around the small group gathered there: Cam stared at the floor, Adam’s expression was too hard to read, and agitation rolled off Neil in waves that engulfed them all.

  ‘What exactly did you think you were playing at?’ the editor fumed. ‘You insisted you fully understood your obligations to the program, Adam.’

  ‘I don’t know what to tell you, except that the pressure finally got to me. I needed some space, away from you people.’ His voice was level but both fists were clenched tight against his sides.

  ‘Taking off like that was completely irresponsible.’ Neil continued his rant. ‘You can’t just disappear and do what you like. We’re on a strict deadline, and you’ve put us a day behind schedule.’

  ‘Yeah, well, we operate at a different pace up here. So you can take your—’

  ‘It’s really only half a day, Boss,’ Why Evie was defending Adam she had no idea—his thoughtless actions had put her job in jeopardy. She was just as angry with him as the editor was, but it was as if there was some sort of unspoken truce between them in the face of Neil’s fury. ‘We managed to re-stage scenes on the yacht on our way back.’

  Her mentor turned on her. Jabbing his finger, he ground out between gritted teeth, ‘Don’t even get me started on you and Cam, Evie. How could you have allowed this to happen?’

  She fought back the knee-jerk denial. It would only antagonise him further.

  Cam took over. ‘We didn’t allow it. It was beyond our control.’

  She followed his calm, rational lead. ‘And no real harm’s been done. There’s still a lot of useful footage.’

  Glaring at her over the rim of his glasses, Neil looked on the verge of tearing into her again when Adam spoke up.

  ‘No point in having a go at anyone else but me.’ Both his low tone and his stiff-shouldered demeanour spelled danger. Was he about to lose it again?

  Evie darted him a pleading look. Don’t make this any worse than it has to be.

  Thankfully, Adam heeded the warning. ‘I take full responsibility. Leave it at that.’ Making it clear the conversation was over, he headed for the door.

  ‘Don’t let it happen again,’ Neil called after him.

  Adam stopped for a second in his tracks but didn’t turn back. He slammed the door behind him with a bang that left no doubt of his feelings about the warning.

  ‘I’ll go and talk to him,’ Evie volunteered.

  She’d already given Adam a strongly worded and shockingly colourful piece of her mind earlier, when he’d finally returned with the yacht to pick them up, but another dose wouldn’t hurt. Much as she hated to admit it, even to herself, she’d been hugely jealous of whatever had gone down between Adam and Chrissy alone overnight. And on top of that, she still felt aggrieved at the thoughtlessness of his little escapade this morning. It was all very well for him to go sailing blissfully off at sunrise with Miss Wright, but it had been on Evie’s watch, and the ramifications for her were enormous.

  Surely he understood that? Did he want her to lose her job? She’d believed he thought more of her than to want that. Whatever he was thinking, it certainly hadn’t been with her in mind. And in the light of that, the conclusion her soul-searching had come to last night—that she might well be falling in love with Adam—showed itself for the insane indulgence it was. How demented, how delusional had she been to even consider it?

  ‘Leave him, Evie. I want to talk to you. Cam, scram. Go do some work.’ Without even looking at the cameraman, Neil flicked his dismissal.

  Fear hit the pit of Evie’s stomach with a thunk. Her boss was going to pin the whole blame for this mess on her.

  Cam darted her a sympathetic grimace as he pulled the door closed behind him.

  ‘Give me your take on what happened today,’ the editor demanded.

  Perspiration broke out on her forehead and the back of her neck. Her palms, too, were sweaty. She controlled the instinct to cry innocent. Nothing she’d said or done had caused Adam to want to escape. Had it?

  With a pang that reached ridiculously deep, she recalled his hurt and hostility at her attempt to warn him about Chrissy’s motives. And then, when he’d asked her what she really wanted to say, she’d had the strongest feeling he knew what was going on in her mind, needed her to say the words aloud. Needed to hear from her lips how she felt about him.

  And she couldn’t tell him.

  No way. Too much was at stake; she couldn’t possibly admit how much she cared for him. So instead she’d virtually thrown him boots and all into Chrissy’s arms, telling him to enjoy his night. Had he mistaken her feigned flippancy as a true indication of her feelings? Was that what had compelled him to take off this morning, even knowing there’d be repercussions? Was she to blame for his rash action?

  Schooling her expression into what she desperately hoped was one of confidence, Evie faced her mentor. ‘Nothing could have been done to prevent what happened. The twenty-four-seven scrutiny is getting to Adam. What he did was on impulse, and Adam is anything but impulsive.’

  Neil was silent, distractedly pacing up and down the room, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. ‘Do you believe it was his idea?’ he asked, finally. He cleared his throat and shrugged his shoulders. ‘I mean, you know him better than I do. If it’s so uncharacteristic …’ he said, sounding and acting strangely self-conscious all of a sudden, ‘could Chrissy have talked him into it?’

  His question brought her up short. She’d been bracing for a bawling out—if not being fired outright—and here he was, asking her opinion. The idea of Chrissy being behind the morning’s disappearance was something she hadn’t considered. But now that she did, things made more sense.

  That woman was capable of doing anything to get Adam to herself. It wasn’t like Chrissy to give up fo
otage opportunities, but she’d be well aware re-enactments would have to be shot. And the chance to actually act rather than merely be captured in the moment would no doubt appeal; her penchant for acting had not gone unnoticed. Adam, of course, would take responsibility, to save Chrissy the embarrassment of being chastised by Neil.

  What a conniving, manipulating bitch!

  ‘You could be right, Boss.’

  The editor lowered himself into his chair and stared fixedly at a frozen shot of Chrissy on the monitor screen. Something about the sombre, pensive expression on his face disturbed her.

  ‘Hmph.’ The grunt wasn’t the only sign he was not a happy man. A pulse ticked along his jawline and the eyes that now sought hers were dark with what looked like—disappointment? Or perhaps dejection? As if the idea of Chrissy being behind the disruption was unpalatable to him for some reason.

  His over-reaction was puzzling. No matter who instigated the incident, the end result was the same. So what was Neil’s problem? The possible answer hovering on the edge of her consciousness vanished with her boss’s next words.

  ‘What would you do now?’ He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, looking up at her. ‘Tell me how you’d deal with this situation.’

  Evie wasn’t aware her mouth had fallen open until she tried to speak and a pathetic, high-pitched um sound emerged. She couldn’t believe what she’d heard. This was no token request, with nothing more than agreement expected; her mentor wanted to know how she’d handle this. He was showing some faith in her at last and she was standing there like a gibbering idiot.

  Somehow she managed to gather her composure. Taken by a sudden thought, she started speaking, firming her thoughts as she went. ‘Whoever pushed for the disappearing act makes no difference now. But we do need to address Adam’s concerns. He talked about needing space. I’d give him some.’

  She could do with a bit of space herself. Away from Adam. His hold on her defied all logic and she needed time out. Hopefully with some physical distance separating them she’d be able to rationalise her feelings about him, minus the confusion caused by overstretched senses. If she could just get back to her old self for a bit she could deal with this crazy, futile infatuation.

  ‘And how do you suggest we do that?’

  ‘Sending only one person on his overnight date with Meg would make it less intrusive.’ Here goes nothing. ‘Cam should go. I could stay here and help with the editing. I haven’t had many opportunities to do that recently.’

  Neil chewed over the idea while she waited, not daring to say anything, hardly even daring to breathe. If he went with her suggestion it would be a first. Maybe—just maybe—the first of many?

  ‘No.’ There was no leeway in the tone. ‘I’m sending both of you.’

  Her heart was a ten-tonne weight inside, dragging her down to the depths of defeat. So much for believing her mentor might actually listen to anything she suggested.

  ‘You’re the boss,’ she muttered, staring down at her feet. But then, unable to help herself, she chanced one more plea. ‘I really think it’d be better if just Cam went.’

  ‘This is not a negotiation, Evie.’

  Whatever had made Neil so unexpectedly vulnerable earlier, he’d moved past it. She sighed heavily. Her boss was back.

  * * *

  Squatting on his haunches, Adam untied Bitzer from the leash. The dog immediately leaped up, knocking him to the dirt floor of the shed and wildly licking at his face, excited as all get out to be free of the tether. For the first time today, Adam found himself smiling with genuine happiness. He hugged the thickset body tightly before clambering to his feet and dusting himself off.

  The imploring look in his best friend’s eyes prompted a pang of guilt. ‘Sorry, old fella.’ Having to keep Bitzer cooped up in here all day wasn’t fair. But it was just one of a string of inequitable compromises he’d had to make since the ‘invasion’, as he’d come to term the arrival of the television crew.

  After two years of solitude, he’d initially welcomed the change that having people around him brought to his life. But right now he was so glad to be alone.

  Bitzer whined pathetically. Almost alone. The dog’s non-judgemental presence was a sharp contrast to his guests’ constant demands. It seemed the once-damaged animal was the only one without some agenda behind every move. Bitzer loved Adam without expecting anything in return—apart from the obligatory food, shelter and companionship.

  At another fretful whimper, he fondled his mutt’s ears. ‘Okay, boy. Let’s get you out of here.’

  They strolled down to the beach. While Bitzer scampered maniacally back and forth across the sand, Adam wended his way along the rock-strewn shore, savouring the unspoilt beauty of the turquoise ocean, the salty smell of the sea and the feel of the breeze against his skin. There was something so special about this place. The open stretch of what was essentially his own private backyard had an air of peace about it that made him profoundly grateful for the way his life had turned out.

  It could have been so much worse … He pushed the thought away before it could grab hold with malicious fingers and ruthlessly tear him into pieces.

  Concentrate on the good things. The good things. He repeated the words inside his head like a mantra, fixing his mind on what those good things were.

  He lived in Paradise. Had the world’s best job. Two beautiful women were here competing for his affections. He had to be one of the luckiest guys alive. There wasn’t a single guy anywhere who wouldn’t want to be him.

  So why couldn’t he be content with that? Why wasn’t he happy?

  Maybe it was because he’d lost focus on what had sustained him these last couple of years—the farm. He’d always taken pride in the single-mindedness he put into managing his little kingdom, but lately he couldn’t seem to keep his mind on it.

  Maybe because everything was happening so fast. Too fast. This was a high-pressure situation and he had a lot of people depending on him. It was a position he’d never been placed in before.

  Or maybe it was simply because he was feeling emotions he’d never experienced in his life. Intense emotions that pulled him every which way, but which always all led back to one overriding cause.

  Evie.

  Her presence continued to play dangerous games with his brain. One minute he could truly believe she really cared about him, the next she appeared either totally indifferent or positively hostile. To be fair though, her fierce anger with him this morning was understandable—he hadn’t stopped to think about anyone but himself at the time. And it hadn’t stopped her defending him in front of Neil. That took a lot of guts; he knew how intimidated she was by the editor.

  Gutsy, intelligent, loyal Evie. With her compassion and her unassuming inner strength. With her endless capacity to listen; her quick wit and her easy laugh. With the sunshine her mere presence had brought to his lonely, predictable existence. He’d never met anyone like her. Never felt for anyone what he felt for her.

  ‘Now there’s a woman a man could fall in love with,’ he confided to the wind.

  Immediately he halted, mid-stride. Where the hell did that come from? Thrown off balance by a plummeting stomach, sagging knees and a brain in turmoil, he only just managed to stop from tripping over Bitzer.

  The ‘L’ word was not a word he used aloud. It wasn’t a conscious choice—at least, he didn’t think so. It was just not a word he could bring himself to say. The entire concept of it confused him. His understanding of what it meant was inextricably linked with images of his father apologising after beating him unmercifully, telling Adam that he loved him, demanding to know why his own child would make him do those terrible things. Memories of his toddler-self saying sorry and that he loved his daddy, too.

  By the time Adam came to live with May and Larry Stephens—after a series of less than successful experiences with foster-parents who were probably well intentioned but who guided by the book rather than by the heart—he’d been almost totally unco
mmunicative. From the outset, May and Larry told him every day how much they loved him, and over time the loving relationship they shared with each other, and with him, gradually enabled him to show affection. But, apart from the whispered words to Larry just before he died, Adam had never been able to return the sentiment verbally, showing it instead with endless hugs and kisses, and by being a dutiful son. By responding with ‘me too’ to their ‘we love you’.

  So how had that word sprung to mind just now? Could he …? Did he …? Was he in love with Evie? Like an earth tremor that started as an almost indiscernible movement before erupting into cataclysm, the thought rocked him to his core. His body swayed with the thought. He had no concept of how romantic love might feel, but if this was it—this powerless feeling of falling—he hated it.

  And loved it.

  He detested the helplessness of being unable to control the pulse pounding in his ears, his heart hammering against his chest, knees that suddenly couldn’t hold his weight.

  Yet he wanted the feeling never to end.

  The problem was, he couldn’t afford to even let it begin. There were so many reasons Evie could never be his.

  And as for actually using the ‘L’ word to tell her how he felt, well, that wasn’t going to happen. Though his confession to Larry had resulted in a massive sense of relief at having finally said the word aloud, that was because he was secure in the knowledge of his dad’s love. There were no such certainties with Evie. Rejection was not worth the risk; he’d had enough of that for one lifetime.

  ‘Adam!’

  He spun around. The object of his impossible desire was headed his way. Tall and slender but gently rounded where it counted, she trudged towards him across the sand, wearing an oversize T-shirt that sexily fell from one shoulder and skinny jeans that hugged her body in all the right places. Natural colour glowed in her cheeks and the slight sea breeze tangled the long hair hanging loose over her shoulders. She looked heart-stoppingly lovely.

  She stopped in front of him. The wisps of hair fanning her cheek were an invitation to touch so he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Her green-brown eyes were beautiful—even if they were scowling at him.