‘I’ll invest in superphosphate.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘You mean you’ll buy?’
He corrected himself. ‘If I buy, I’ll invest in superphosphate.’
‘It’s a great buy.’
Silence. Somewhere a kookaburra started up, its raucous chortle ringing through the bushland. From where they were settled they could hear the faint crashing of waves on the beach below, and the breeze was a gentle whisper through the gums overhead. The place was indeed magic…
‘This place will sell in two minutes in the open market.’
‘There’s not a lot of buyers with the cash needed to buy a place like this.’
‘I know at least five,’ she said promptly. ‘You want me to name them? You decide against this place and I’ll be on the phone to them in minutes. They don’t know it’s on the market or they’d be beating a path to our door.’
He gave a rueful grin. ‘You do a very pressured sales pitch.’
She smiled. ‘That’s my job.’
‘Selling farms?’
Her smile died. ‘Yes.’
‘But you now sell city properties.’ He was still probing, still searching for what lay beneath. ‘Do you enjoy that?’
‘Of course I do.’
‘There’s no “of course” about it. You’re a country girl, born and bred. Even I can see that.’
‘Well, how about you?’ she asked, trying again to change direction. ‘You spent a lot of your childhood on a farm. Why are you thinking of buying this place? Are you returning to your roots?’
‘You could say that.’
‘From all I hear you spend most of your time overseas.’
‘Until now.’
‘So you’re thinking of settling down here.’ The idea, she decided, appealed to her. This place and this man seemed to suit each other. He sat with his back against a rock, the sun on his face as he gazed out over the pastures to the sea beyond. He looked at peace. Like a man coming home. A man who belonged.
‘Maybe,’ he said at last.
Still she probed. ‘Are you thinking of getting married?’
His face stilled. ‘Why do you suggest that?’
‘I don’t know.’ She shrugged. It was none of her business after all. ‘I guess, when a man thinks of settling…’
‘And Mrs Gray would like a family here?’
‘There is that.’ She smiled as the inexplicable note of tension eased. ‘I hope you’d oblige. After all, it is extremely important to keep the hired help happy.’
‘By having a family?’ He assumed an expression of horror. ‘No way. Not even for the Grays. Maybe I’ll borrow Sam from time to time.’
She thought that through and approved. ‘He’d like that.’
‘So, despite you staying in the city, Sam’s not happy?’
Drat, they were talking about her life again, and she shouldn’t do it. He was a client. She knew better than to mix business with pleasure. They stayed absolutely apart.
But it was so tempting to talk of Sam. She was so worried about him, and Jackson was looking at her with calm grey eyes that said he was really interested. He really cared.
‘No.’ She sighed. ‘He’s not happy. I guess I can’t expect that-his parents have only been dead six months. But…’ Her voice trailed off and she bit her lip. He couldn’t really care.
Only it seemed he did. ‘How did he come by the bruises on his face?’
‘He takes on the world.’
‘Can you explain?’
Unwise or not, the temptation to unload her worries was irresistible. Jackson’s shoulders were so broad-maybe it wouldn’t hurt to burden him a little.
‘He’s so darned little,’ she told him. ‘He’s the smallest kid in his class, but he won’t take a back seat. He stands up for himself, no matter what. If a bigger kid pushes in front of him Sam will shove back, regardless of the consequences-and he always comes off second best. The school’s not great, but I can’t afford to move him.’
Jackson thought that through. ‘There’s money problems?’
‘My sister and her husband didn’t believe in insurance. And they lived life in the fast lane. There were debts.’
‘I see.’ And he did. More than she knew. He could guess by the set look of her chin just what sort of obligations she’d shouldered. ‘He’s some responsibility.’
‘As you say.’
There was silence again, but this time it was different. There was no tension. It was almost as if they knew what the other was thinking.
He seemed…a friend, Molly thought inconsequentially. It seemed she was being offered friendship in an unlikely place-but it was friendship, regardless. She’d heard the note of caring in his voice and it made her blink back tears.
Drat the man. He had the capacity to get under her skin. And why? Because he was big and handsome and gentle and…
And a millionaire-even a billionaire! As such he was right out of her league, even as a friend. Men like Jackson weren’t friends. If they were anything at all then they were trouble.
She bit her lip and stooped to pack their picnic things. ‘It’s time we were getting on. There’s still plenty to see.’
‘So there is.’ But his gaze was on her face and his eyes were thoughtful.
‘So, help me,’ she demanded, letting a note of irritation enter her voice. ‘It won’t all fit in my saddlebag.’
‘And you’re not my servant?’ His tone was faintly teasing and Molly flushed.
‘No, Mr Baird, I’m not your servant,’ she snapped, and kept on packing.
But still he didn’t help. He stood looking down at her stooped figure, and there was a very odd expression playing beneath the thoughtfulness of his features.
She was some lady! The thought hit him out of nowhere, and he didn’t have a clue what to do with it.
CHAPTER FOUR
THEY rode for three hours and they hardly talked. There was no need.
The property did indeed sell itself, Molly decided as they moved from one paddock to another. Each seemed better than before. This was a tiny paradise cut off from the outside world. The more she saw, the more three million seemed very cheap.
But it wasn’t for her to say. Hannah Copeland had named her price and it was up to Jackson to say yes or no. If he said no then she’d contact Hannah and advise her to increase her asking price the next time she showed anyone…
‘What are you thinking?’ Jackson demanded, and Molly discovered that he’d been watching her. Were her thoughts transparent? She hoped not.
‘You’re thinking of upping the price,’ he said bluntly, and she had to smile.
‘Um…yes.’
‘You think three million is cheap?’
‘It is, and you know it is.’
He gazed around him and had to agree. ‘Yep.’
‘So, if I ask you to pay more…?’
‘I’d tell you to take a cold shower.’
‘That’s blunt.’ She grinned. ‘But you agree it’s a bargain?’
‘I’d imagine there are strings attached. Are there?’
‘There may well be. If you’re really interested I’ll contact Miss Copeland this evening and ask what she has in mind.’
‘It may well be taking on Doreen and Gregor.’
She thought that through and figured it was a distinct possibility. The elderly couple had been here for most of their lives and to move them on would be cruel. ‘Would that be a problem?’
‘Family retainers are the devil.’
‘I’d imagine they’d be loyal.’
‘They should be put out to pasture and you know it.’
She looked across at him, still considering. ‘Would you be the one to put them out to pasture?’ Suddenly his answer was absurdly important. She knew what his answer should be-his reputation was as a ruthless businessman, after all-but in the short time she’d known him she’d seen the kindness of the man, and it was desperately important that he still display it.
; He was still watching her face, and it seemed the man could still read her thoughts.
‘Just because I splinted a frog’s leg, don’t think I’m a soft touch.’
‘You were nice to Sam as well.’
‘Okay, I was nice to Sam,’ he conceded. ‘Neither of those things cost me money.’
‘And if they had-would you still have done them?’
‘It depends entirely on how much. Any more than tuppence-halfpenny and I’d have consulted my accountant.’
She gave a chuckle and turned her face to the sun. She hadn’t felt this good for years, she thought. Or…since Sarah died. Jackson had given her this day, and for that she had to be grateful. ‘You will keep Doreen and Gregor on your payroll?’
‘I haven’t agreed to buy the place yet.’
She gave him a cheeky grin. ‘Neither you have.’
‘And I mightn’t.’
‘Yeah, right.’ She knew she had the man seriously hooked. Things were looking very good. Very good indeed. But she didn’t press the point. Instead she headed her horse down towards the river. ‘If we follow the river we’ll end up home,’ she told him.
‘No.’
‘No?’
‘We’ll end up swimming,’ he told her. ‘It looks fabulous.’
‘It looks wet.’
‘Chicken!’
‘I didn’t bring a costume,’ she told him. ‘And respectable realtors don’t strip to their bras and panties and go swimming with clients. It’s absolutely not done.’
‘What a pity.’
‘It is a pity.’ Another grin. ‘But don’t let me stop you.’
‘From stripping?’
‘Be my guest. I promise I won’t produce a camera. Or if I do it’ll be a very small one.’
‘You know, I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if you’re carrying one, along with your leech repellent,’ he said bitterly.
She laughed. Her lovely chuckle rang out, free and joyous, and he sat still in his saddle and stared at her. Then as she moved off he had to make an almost visible effort to follow.
What on earth was happening to him? He didn’t have a clue!
But in the end she did swim. In the end she didn’t have a choice. Molly reached the river before Jackson, and by the time he reached her she was staring across the slow-moving current, her laughter completely disappeared.
‘What’s wrong?’ His gaze followed hers and found what she was looking at. ‘Oh…’
Upriver, a couple of small logs had fallen over a cut in the bank, and twigs and leaf matter had piled high. They’d seen the debris as they’d ridden, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened next.
A tiny kangaroo, barely half grown, had hopped out onto the debris, thinking it a firm foothold. It wasn’t. The debris around the joey told its own story. The whole mat had given way and the baby kangaroo was now drifting helplessly towards the sea.
On the far bank a full-grown ’roo was following her offspring’s progress in obvious terror. She was leaping along the bank and then gazing back to the bushland, knowing she shouldn’t venture far from cover but compelled to follow her baby. Back in the shadows were the remaining mob, sleeping out the heat of the day and oblivious to the drama being played out nearby.
And it was drama. The joey would be out to sea in no time-or washed away and drowned. Jackson turned to Molly and found her off her horse and tugging at her boots.
‘What the hell are you doing?’
‘I can reach him.’
‘You’ll be swept out to sea.’
‘Not me. I’m a country girl-remember? Born and bred by the sea. I can swim like a fish.’
He was down from his horse, grasping her arms to restrain her. ‘Don’t be stupid. It’s only a ’roo.’
Only a ’roo… The words hung between them. She gave an angry wrench but he held her still.
‘Molly, no.’
‘I can do it. Only a ’roo? Yeah, like it was only a frog. I can’t let it drown.’
‘And how do you propose grabbing it? You’ll be cut to pieces.’ He looked at her face and saw implacability. With an inward groan he turned to assess the river.
Maybe she was right. Maybe the thing was possible. The water looked clear enough. Apart from the tumble of debris around the ’roo there seemed little enough to trap and hold, and the clear running water appeared sand-bottomed and friendly.
‘I’ll go in,’ he told her.
‘You can’t!’
‘Why not?’ He was hauling the saddle from his horse. ‘We’ll need the saddlecloth to hold the joey. Help me.’
‘You…’ She took a deep breath and steadied, sanity prevailing. ‘If you drown, Trevor will kill me. “Millionaire Killed by Baby Kangaroo.” I don’t think so.’
‘I don’t intend to drown.’
They glared at each other. ‘So we’ll go in together,’ Molly snapped.
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ He had the blanket free now, and was concentrating on hauling off his boots.
‘Who’s ridiculous? One in, all in.’ And Molly’s shoes were kicked aside and she entered the water before he did.
Jackson didn’t follow. Not straight away. He paused and waited.
It never paid to jump in at the deep end. Hadn’t he learned that over and over in his business life? And what was needed here was a bit of calm-headed logic.
Molly seemed to know what she was doing, and, watching her, he was reassured. She’d dived in downstream and was fighting the current to reach midstream before the joey reached her. He watched for a whole three seconds-enough to see her move with strokes that were strong and sure. Enough to see that she was safe.
Okay, then. Molly was fine. Now for one ’roo. He tied the saddlecloth around his hips, strode swiftly downstream and dived in after the pair of them.
Molly was a good swimmer, but Jackson was better. Where she cut diagonally through the current, Jackson simply stroked straight across.
The joey was still floating towards them, his two small ears and his huge eyes almost all they could see above the surface. The debris he was floating on was breaking apart and his platform was sinking by the minute.
Jackson reached midriver first, and trod water as he waited. Molly was slightly upstream, but coming fast.
As she reached him he held out a hand and grasped-strong, sure and determined. Molly had enough time to register the strength of his hold, and ten seconds later the joey cannoned into the wall they’d created with their linked arms.
The kangaroo might only be half grown, but with his underwater platform of branches he seemed to weigh a ton. And the little creature was terrified-as much of these two strange humans as he was of the river. He backed away. His platform wobbled, steadied, wobbled again.
Let him not jump…
Combined, Jackson and Molly formed a trap. They were linked by joined hands, and the joey was locked between them, their arms making a triangle with the ’roo’s platform in the apex. But they were all being swept inexorably towards the river mouth.
And at the river mouth…rocks.
‘Get back to shore,’ Jackson gasped at Molly. ‘You can’t do this.’
‘I can.’
‘I’ll do it. You go back.’ He tried to disengage their hands to leave her free, but she was having none of it.
‘No. Let’s both try.’
‘Molly, you don’t have the right. Remember Sam.’
Great. Here she was, risking life and limb, and he was reminding her of her responsibilities. As if she needed reminding. She wasn’t risking anything, she thought angrily. She could do this!
‘We’re wasting effort,’ she gasped. ‘Just swim.’ Their hands stayed linked. His hold was sure and strong, and she wasn’t relinquishing it for the world. The joey was between them, the little creature’s eyes on a level with theirs. His terror was palpable.
And still he backed away. The ’roo wouldn’t stay on the platform while they guided him ashore. He’d jump any minu
te.
‘I’ll get behind him,’ Jackson gasped. ‘Stay where you are.’
There was one branch larger than the rest that formed the joey’s foothold. Molly grasped it lightly, trying not to pressure it any further underwater. She didn’t want the joey washed off.
Then she tried to keep the joey’s attention on her. ‘Watch me,’ she gasped, figuring what Jackson intended before she was told. She bobbed up and down and kept on talking as the joey backed a little more. She was trying to keep the joey’s eyes fixed on her.
And then Jackson was behind him. He trod water for a moment, steadied, and raised the sodden blanket. Before the joey could react he dropped the rug, and in one swift movement he had the joey trussed like a Christmas parcel.
The razor-tipped paws slashed, but the cloth was made of thick felt. Jackson swore, steadied, swore again and floated on his back. The wrapped joey writhed furiously on his chest, but finally was still.
‘I can’t do anything with him here,’ Jackson gasped. It was all he could do to hold on. ‘Can you tow me?’
It was some question-but she could. Molly released the platform of twigs to let it rush on towards the sea, and then fought to get behind Jackson. She cupped her hands under his chin, lay back, then kicked out and started to tow. Jackson kicked in unison and slowly they moved towards the bank.
It took all their strength-more than all their strength-to move the joey towards the shore, and afterwards Jackson never could figure out how they had. He surely couldn’t have done it on his own.
Molly’s strength was amazing. He could kick, but nothing more, and that alone wasn’t enough to battle the current. But somehow she found the strength to tow not just herself but him, and the kangaroo with him.
The river broadened at the mouth, and jagged rocks formed the riverbed. Here the breakers crashed in from the open sea, and anything pushed further would be dashed against the rocks. But the current lessened slightly-almost imperceptibly-just before the rocks.
Man and woman kicked fiercely in unison, and they reached the shore just as the first of the rocks came into view.
Even then they didn’t have the joey safe. As they staggered to their feet in shallow water they were confronted by a sandy cliff reaching five or six feet up from the riverbed. There was nothing to hold.
A Millionaire For Molly Page 5
