His Outback Nanny

by Annie Seaton

  “Could we go for you? I could take the kids in for a drive. We need bread.”

  “In the Audi?” Ned’s grin was wide. “Sticky fingers and all that.”

  Jemima’s Audi was in the hay shed where Ned had insisted on covering it with a tarpaulin. The sooner she traded it for something more suitable, the easier it would be.

  “Yes, why not? It’s a vehicle to get from Point A to Point B. I meant to list it on Gumtree, but I haven’t had time.”

  “Because…” Ned’s voice trailed away.

  “Look at me. Look what I found! I’m a princess.” Gwennie stood in the doorway, her little face beaming and a frothy bridal veil trailing to the floor from the top of her head. Jemima’s stomach sank, and her mouth dried as Ned’s expression closed.

  “I told her not to touch it. I told her it was Mummy’s.” Kelsey stood behind her.

  Ned lifted one hand and then dropped it to his side as he stared at Gwennie.

  “I’m sorry, Daddy.” Her bottom lip quivered, and her eyes filled with tears.

  “Don’t cry, sweetie. I’m sure Daddy thinks you look lovely. Just like your mummy did.” Jemima walked across to her and crouched down beside her. “It’s a beautiful thing and something that needs to be treasured. How about we take it off and wrap it up carefully and put it somewhere safe?”

  Gwennie nodded, and Jemima lifted the white veil from her head.

  Ned turned and headed for the office. “If the drench is in and you could go to town for me, that would be great.” He disappeared down the hall without a backward glance.

  Oh, Ned. You should have spoken to Gwennie.

  “I didn’t…didn’t”—hiccup—“mean to make Daddy cross.”

  Jemima gave the little girl a hug. “Daddy’s not cross. He had to look at something on his computer, that’s all. And guess what? We might have to go into town for a drive, and then we can call in and see Lucy and James. How would you like that?”

  A wide smile broke through the tears as Gwennie nodded. “Yes, please!”

  “And a milkshake?” Kelsey asked.

  “If Con’s milk bar is open. I don’t know if it will be on a Saturday afternoon.”

  “I do miss McDonalds.” Kelsey took the veil from Jemima. “I’ll put this back in the tissue paper. Then where will we put it so it’s safe?”

  Jemima jumped as Ned’s voice came from behind her. “Put it on top of the box. I need to get in and unpack the rest.”

  She smiled as he ruffled Gwennie’s hair on the way past. “Want to come and feed the chooks with me?” He took Gwennie’s hand, and Kelsey and Jemima shared an understanding look that was very mature for an eleven year old.

  “Daddy did it tough for a while,” she said. “But now Daddy’s got you, things will be right again.”

  Guilt trickled through Jemima as she wondered what they’d done. How would the kids cope when she left? They really hadn’t thought this scenario through.

  …

  Ned held Gwennie steady as she stood on the bottom fence railing. They’d fed the chickens, and then she’d decided it was only fair to give Monty a carrot. He still felt guilty for walking out when she’d had Cath’s veil on, but he hadn’t known what to say. He stared out over Gwennie’s head as she held the carrot out to the old horse. Jemima had handled it perfectly. The more he watched the way she was with the kids, the more he was certain that they’d made a good decision.

  It was going to help him financially and make the farm viable, but having Jemima leave when the year was up was going to be rough. They would have to plan this better than they had. Ned knew he could be gruff with the kids. He’d been so damn busy trying to be the breadwinner, the housekeeper, and Mummy and Daddy when they’d lived in Sydney, he knew time for cuddles and affection and one-on-one time with each of them had been short.

  Jemima was a natural with them. For someone who’d been in a high-profile international career and had little experience with children, she was unbelievably patient and kind. She had a knack for knowing what to say at the right time. He’d seen her be firm with Ryan when he’d needed it; she was establishing a wonderful rapport with Kelsey through the horses, and Gwennie, sweet little Gwennie, adored Jemmy already. She would make a fabulous teacher when the time came, and he was really lucky that she’d put it on hold and agreed to his plan.

  He’d think about it and then talk to her. Maybe he could ramp up the affection with the kids and she could be more the disciplinarian? More aloof, maybe?

  No, that was a stupid idea. The kids were responding to the person she was, and anything else would be put on. There was enough subterfuge already.

  “Come on, bub. I have to get back to work.” He hoisted Gwennie onto his shoulders, and her giggles made him feel better as he jogged back to the house.

  They really needed an exit plan.

  …

  As soon as Ned checked his email and discovered the drench had arrived at the Cartwright’s store, Jemima loaded the kids into the Audi and drove to town. They left the produce store and then called into the grocery store to get bread. A sign on Con’s milk bar said, Gone to Sydney to pick up Isabella. There were three smiley emoticons after the words.

  “Who’s Isabella?” Gwennie asked as the three children stood at the door, disappointment on their faces.

  “I don’t know, but someone’s happy about it. How about we buy some ice cream and flavouring so we can make milkshakes at home?”

  The car was full of laughter and chatter on the way home, and she even let the kids share a bag of crisps in the backseat. The Audi could always be cleaned. The kids loved travelling in the sports car, and when she’d mentioned she was thinking of selling it, their cries had howled her down. Maybe she’d keep it for a while longer.

  When they got home, there was no sign of Ned or his ute, so they unpacked in the kitchen, and Jemima made milkshakes that Ryan declared were the best ever. Now the three children were outside playing with Willow. Liam had asked them to babysit the spaniel for the weekend while he and Angie visited the Hunter Valley vineyards.

  Jemima’s immediate problem was dinner. She opened the small freezer at the top of the fridge, but there was nothing in there that looked familiar or easy. There were always the frozen precooked chicken nuggets and chips—she knew how to heat them up, but it couldn’t be called a meal. With a sigh, she turned into the hallway heading for the large laundry room where she knew there were meat packs in the deep freeze. She pulled up short. The hall that had been corded with packing boxes when they left only three hours ago was now empty, and the floor had been swept.

  Jemima frowned, wondering what Ned had done with the contents of the boxes. Hopefully, he’d left out the things that the girls had been looking for this morning—Kelsey’s pencils and Gwennie’s toys. As far as the wedding veil and the wedding dress that had been in the other parcel, it was none of her business where he’d put them. He’d seemed upset, and the fact that he’d cleared the boxes away confirmed that.

  Having to tiptoe around someone’s feelings was new for Jemima. In the modelling world, she’d seen many tantrums, and the people she’d worked with—both men and women—had been difficult. Models, photographers, agents, stage managers—most had been good, but some had been hard to deal with. She’d learned to remain professional and aloof, so having to contain her feelings here and not get upset about some old boxes and their impact on a family was a totally different world for her. Her chest was tight, and an ache in her throat wouldn’t go away.

  And then there was dinner. She stood in front of the huge deep freeze in the laundry, staring at the packets of meat. That feeling was now compounded by the dread she held about cooking her first dinner for the family. The tightness in her chest turned into a stone as she stared into the depths of the freezer.

  T-Bone, eye fillet, brisket, porterhouse, topside, round, and chuck? The labels on the meat packets meant nothing to her.

  Closing the door, she headed back into the kitchen a
nd picked up her phone to call Lucy, but she remembered Lucy had mentioned that she and Garth were going into town to visit some friends this afternoon. She didn’t want to bother her.

  “You’re all on your lonesome, kid,” she muttered under her breath as she headed back to the freezer. Reaching in, she pulled out the packet that was labeled round steak.

  That sounds familiar.

  Carrying it into the kitchen, she looked down at the frozen packet. How long was that going to take to thaw out? Even if she cooked some vegetables or made a salad, and Ned cooked the steak on the barbeque, the meat would have to be thawed first. So far everything had worked out okay, but the thought of putting a meal on the table terrified Jemima. Liam hadn’t been joking when he’d teased her about her culinary skills. The only thing she’d ever learned how to cook in Gran’s kitchen was pickled onions for the show. The smell of the onions and spices had turned her off cooking for life. After being on the road and living in hotels, room service had been her favourite way to eat.

  But there’s no room service out here. And no pizza delivery or takeaway shop in the Outback.

  Jemima folded her arms as she stood in the kitchen and surveyed the equipment. She smiled as she spotted the microwave oven. She knew how to use one of them. She’d thaw the meat and then partially fry it up, maybe with some garlic or something, and then Ned could take it over to the gas barbeque. If he was late, she’d cook it on the stove, but that would be her last resort. She swallowed and looked at the huge gas contraption that filled one whole wall at the back of the kitchen. When she was bottling onions with Gran one Christmas, she’d heard a bang and turned around to see Gran with singed eyebrows and eyelashes. The gas had backfired. Jemima had been wary of gas stoves ever since.

  But the microwave wasn’t going to blow up on her. She opened the door and placed the hunk of frozen meat on the glass tray and shut the door, peering at the digital controls.

  Defrost! That’s what she needed. She set it for twenty minutes and pressed the power button before going to the small walk-in pantry for some potatoes.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Come on, kids. It’s past dinner time. Jemmy will be wondering where we are. I thought you’d be starving by now. I am!” Ned walked over to the kids as he came out of the hay shed. He was later finishing than he’d intended—there was always another job to do, but he was enjoying the farm work now that he didn’t have to do it all himself. Billy was a godsend, and Ned had learned more about cattle in a week than he’d learned the whole time he’d spent growing up on the property.

  “We’re still full from our milkshakes,” Kelsey said as she scooped the spaniel under her arm, and Gwennie held out her hand to Ryan—a very grubby Ryan, and they walked across the yard together. The smell of garlic and roasting meat came from the kitchen, and Ned’s nose twitched in appreciation.

  “Good, all the more for me to eat.” Ned tickled Ryan as he lagged in front of him. Apart from everything else, having Jemima there to cook was going to save him at least an hour every day.

  “Come on, buddy, you can come and have a shower with Daddy. I don’t know how you manage to get so dirty.” Ned wanted to tidy up for dinner. It was the least he could do to show his appreciation. He was getting way more out of this deal than Jemima was. “Girls, you have a wash, too. It smells like dinner’s ready.”

  Half an hour later, they were sitting at the kitchen table. A small glass jar with rosebuds sat in the middle of the table. Jemima had found the red and white checked table mats he’d unpacked earlier, and the cutlery was at each place setting rather than thrown in the middle like it was when the girls set the table when he’d cooked.

  Ned frowned when Jemima placed a bowl of salad in the centre of the table and turned back to the cupboard. She was quiet, not saying much as she put the dinner plates on the table. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, and a tiny dimple that he hadn’t noticed before appeared in her left cheek when she pursed her lips.

  “I think that’s everything,” she said as she sat down beside Kelsey. “Oh, I forgot the potatoes.” She jumped straight back up.

  “And the roast,” said Kelsey.

  “The roast?” Jemima paused as she lifted the bowl of mashed potato from the bench top.

  “I can smell roast.” Kelsey frowned as she looked at the salad bowl. “I thought we were having a baked dinner.”

  “No. We’ve got steak and salad and mashed potatoes, and then peaches and ice cream.” Jemima sounded quite proud as she outlined the menu. “Oh, and bread. Garlic bread. I almost forgot that.” She went back to the kitchen and opened the oven.

  “Do you need a hand?” Ned asked.

  “Thanks. I’ll get the bread if you can carry the steak for me.”

  He left the table and stood behind Jemima as she opened the oven door and slid out a tray of golden bread. She turned with a huge smile and handed him the other oven mitt.

  “Perfect. The steaks are on the bottom shelf in that brown dish thing.”

  Ned raised his eyebrows.

  Brown dish thing? Maybe she casseroled the steak?

  “The casserole dish?”

  “Yeah, that’s it.” Jemima reached up a hand and tucked back a strand of hair that had fallen from her clip. Her cheeks were flushed from the heat of the kitchen, and there was a smudge of something brown on her cheek. He reached over and wiped his thumb gently on her skin.

  “Gravy?”

  Her flush deepened, and she shook her head. “No, no, I didn’t make gravy. Should I do some?”

  “No, I was asking if that was gravy on your face?”

  “Shouldn’t be.” Her eyes brightened as she smiled back at him. “Probably dirt off the potatoes when I peeled them.”

  “I’m hungwy!” Ryan picked up his plate and banged it on the table.

  Jemima walked over and stood beside him. “Is that good manners, Ryan?” she asked softly.

  “No.” He put his head down and mumbled. “But you’re slower than Daddy.”

  Ned carried the casserole dish across to the table and lifted the lid. An overwhelming smell of garlic wafted up, and he frowned as he looked down at the…at the…something in the dish. It was a sort of grey, but he could see a bit of gristle on the edge. It was definitely meat of some sort, covered with half-cooked onion rings and whole garlic cloves.

  “Sit down, Jemmy. I’ll serve up.”

  Everyone sat quietly as he served a piece of steak to each of them and then put the spoon into the potatoes. The yellowish mash stuck to the spoon, and he had to reach for a knife to scrape the glutinous stuff into Ryan’s bowl.

  “Who’d like some garlic bread? And some salad?” Jemima’s voice was louder than usual, and Ned glanced up. Her eyes were wide as she reached hesitantly for the salad bowl.

  “Yes, please.” The three kids spoke together as they watched Ned serve their dinner.

  Jemima sliced the garlic loaf and then put a piece of bread on each plate. She picked up the salad tongs and placed a slice of tomato and lettuce beside the bread.

  Ned sat down. “You can start now, girls. I’ll just cut Ryan’s steak for him.” He held the knife firmly as he tried to cut into the steak, but the knife wouldn’t go through to the plate. All was quiet as everyone watched him try again. Ned looked at the knife and smiled. “Ah, it’s a bread knife. Can you pass me a steak knife, please?”

  Jemima passed him a serrated knife, and he tried again. This time, the knife made a tiny tear in the meat.

  “Is this meat from the freezer, or did you buy it in town today?” He stopped trying to cut the tough meat and looked over at Jemima. Her face was bright red, and she was blinking quickly.

  “From the freezer.”

  “What cut is it?” he asked.

  “What?” she said, brushing the back of her hand over her eyes. “What do you mean, what cut?”

  “Is it rump or—”

  “Rump, I think. It started with R, anyway. Maybe it’s tough because I thawed
it out for too long in the microwave. All the juices came out of it.” She rushed on, and her words ran together. “And then I tried to grill it under the griller, but it went grey and curled up. So I put it in the dish in the oven with some water and garlic and onion to make a sort of casserole—what? Why are you all looking at me like that?”

  Gwennie and Kelsey were giggling.

  “It started with R?” Ned said slowly, trying to hold back the chuckle that was threatening. “From memory, I don’t think there was any rump left in the big freezer. Maybe it was round steak?”

  “Yes, that was it,” Jemima said triumphantly. “Round steak.”

  “And you microwaved it, grilled it, and then casseroled it?” Ned nodded slowly and managed to keep his face serious. “There must have been something wrong with the beast. After all that attention, it should melt in our mouths.” He couldn’t hold back the chuckle any longer and was pleased to see Jemima smile, too.

  “So I stuffed up the first meal I cooked?” She looked over at the girls. “Don’t try and eat it. I’ll go find something else.”

  “Um…do we have to eat the potato stuff?” Kelsey tried to twirl her fork in it, and it got stuck.

  Ned dug into his and put a forkful in his mouth. “Yes, it’s tasty, and you have to eat your—” Before he could say “vegetables,” his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He stood and crossed to the sink and tore off a piece of paper towel and tried to spit the offending mass into the towel. Behind him, he could hear the girls giggling as he reached for a glass and turned the tap on.

  Finally, he turned around. “Don’t be rude, girls. Jemmy did her best. And that’s the lesson we learned from this. Whatever you try, do your best.” He held her gaze and was pleased to see her eyes were dancing.

  “The salad is really nice,” Gwennie said quietly.

  “Oh, sweetie!” Jemima pushed her chair back and walked around and hugged Gwennie. “Thank you, but you don’t have to eat it.”

  “I think we’ll find some chicken nuggets and chips in the freezer. How ’bout we show Jemmy how to heat them up in the oven?”