She thought that through but didn’t understand. ‘The froghouse is doing that.’
‘No.’ He considered, but he knew he was right. ‘Sam’s belongings may well have arrived when his parents were alive.’ He let his gaze drift around the place, taking it in. ‘All the photos here are of his parents and of Sam’s life before their death. All the personal stuff. There’s not a lot of Molly Farr in this place at all.’
‘It’s Sam’s home.’
‘It’s your home, too.’
‘Sam needs memories of his parents.’ She bit her lip. ‘Heaven knows they’ll fade soon enough.’
‘It’s natural that they should,’ he said gently. He crossed to a shelf where a row of trophies stood. Golf trophies and netball trophies and sailing trophies and junior chess tournament certificates. ‘There’s a whole family’s achievements here-but where are yours?’
‘I don’t count.’
‘You do count.’ He frowned. ‘For Sam, you count very much. When you were a kid what were you winning?’
‘Not much.’
‘Cow-riding competitions?’
That brought a reluctant chuckle. ‘I wouldn’t think so.’
‘Then what?’
‘Nothing.’ She met his gaze and held it, but still his eyes probed. ‘We’re going to be late for lunch.’
‘No. We have time. What?’
‘I didn’t…’
‘There must be something. Some memory of childhood that means a lot to you? Something you achieved?’
She sighed and let herself think about it. ‘I guess-knots?’
‘Knots?’ Whatever he’d been expecting it wasn’t that.
‘I talked my way into joining the boy scouts,’ she told him. ‘My first merit certificate was in knots and I caught the bug.’ Her voice tailed off. Surely he couldn’t be interested.
But it seemed he was. He was fascinated. A junior Molly as a Boy Scout. The idea was fascinating. He could see her now… ‘So then what happened?’
‘You don’t want to know.’
‘Try me.’
She hesitated, and then shrugged. Why not? It was ridiculous, but the man was a client, she told herself. So she should treat him as a client. It was her job to keep him happy. Up to a point.
‘Just a minute, then.’ And a moment later she was scrambling around the back of her wardrobe. Her personal stuff was shoved behind suitcases, abandoned to neglect-as she’d abandoned her old life.
If he was really interested… Frame after frame was stacked neatly in the dark. She lifted the top three and carried them out.
Here were her knots.
Every knot she knew was represented in these frames. She’d tied them with care, with love and with increasing skill. Here were farm knots, shipping knots, plainly functional knots and fancy decorative ones. Every conceivable way to join two pieces of rope was displayed in these frames. They were labelled with names and often had a tiny history written underneath. She’d started her frames when she was nine years old and the last knot had been tied two weeks before her sister died.
They were part of the Molly that was.
She carried them out and handed them over to Jackson in silence-and why it felt as if she was handing over a piece of herself she didn’t know. He took them from her and stared down at them for a long, long time. His eyes took in the care, the love and the knowledge.
‘These are fantastic,’ he told her, and she flushed.
‘Yes, but they’re part of a past life.’
‘They’re part of you, and Sam should see that.’ He lifted the top one and set it up carefully behind the netball trophies. ‘They should be hung. You should have a feature wall of them.’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t want to make Sam’s life different.’
‘Sam’s life is different.’
‘Not any more than I can help.’
He stood looking down at her for a moment, and then the corners of his mouth twitched into a smile that was almost self-mocking.
‘You’re quite a woman.’
That was a good one. ‘Yeah. And you’re quite a man. But now we need to go to lunch.’
‘So we do,’ he said slowly, but the way he was speaking made her think it wasn’t just lunch he was thinking of. ‘So we do.’
Hannah Copeland was a bright little sparrow of a woman. She was knotted with age and arthritis but her eyes were still alive with intelligence. She met them in one of Sydney’s most exclusive restaurants and proceeded to treat the place-and the staff-as if she owned it.
‘We’re in my usual alcove,’ she told them. ‘I come here every Monday, regardless. It’s my personal contribution to improving the world’s economy.’
‘Very generous,’ Molly said, and she chuckled.
‘That’s what I think, dear.’ She peered up at Jackson. ‘And you? You’re as wealthy as Croesus. What do you do to contribute to the world’s fast lane?’
‘Buy expensive farms?’ he said, and her lined face lit with laughter.
‘Very good.’ Her keen eyes narrowed. ‘But I don’t believe in sleeping money. Will you keep my farm running as it should be run? You don’t just want it as a tax dodge, I hope?’
‘It’d be a very expensive tax dodge,’ Jackson told her, helping her into her seat with care.
‘You never know these days.’ She settled herself down and surveyed her guest with complacency. ‘Isn’t this nice?’ Then she peered more closely at Molly and at her dour outfit. ‘You’re not in mourning are you, dear?’
‘She’s in business,’ Jackson said dryly.
‘And you don’t mix business with pleasure?’
‘Never,’ Molly told them. She lifted the menu, looked at the prices and gulped. She was way out of her league here. And…mixing business with pleasure? Did that mean she couldn’t savour this extraordinary selection?
‘Did you have a nice time at my farm?’ Hannah asked, and Molly smiled. That at least was easy.
‘Yes, thank you.’
‘Doreen tells me the three of you got on like a house on fire. You and Jackson and the little boy.’
‘There’s no relationship,’ Molly told her hastily. ‘I only met Jackson on Friday.’
‘But you like each other?’
‘We like each other,’ Jackson said, and Molly stifled a protest. Okay. For the duration-and for the sale-they liked each other.
There was a lull while they ordered. Molly thought of what she was eating in terms of how many normal meals she could buy and was silently having kittens-but she didn’t let on.
Hannah was still concentrating on Jackson when the entrees arrived, which was just as well. It let Molly concentrate on food. She intended to savour every gorgeous mouthful. Then…
‘You’re engaged?’ Hannah demanded of Jackson, and he frowned while Molly forgot all about concentrating on food.
‘Where did you hear that?’
‘I read my papers, dear. Tell me about your Cara.’
The frown stayed. ‘She’s not my Cara.’
‘So you’re not engaged?’
‘No,’ he said flatly, and Molly dropped her knife.
‘You’re kidding!’ she managed.
‘I’m not kidding,’ he told her, and smiled-and she dropped her knife all over again.
‘I thought…’
‘Cara and I are happy as we are,’ he told Hannah, and Hannah blinked and then speared a prawn as if it was an enemy.
‘I don’t approve of that kind of relationship,’ she said. ‘I like marriages.’
‘In my world marriages seldom last long.’
‘Promises last,’ she snapped. ‘If you mean them. Have you made this Cara any promises?’
He concentrated on his food for a little. It was well worth concentrating on, Molly thought. Their prawns were coated in some sort of tempura batter, tasting vaguely of coconut and served with a dipping sauce of chilli and lime. The prawns tasted as if they’d been out of the sea all of two minutes. But still J
ackson had all her attention. ‘I think my relationships are my business,’ he said eventually.
‘I want my farm to go to good hands.’
‘I understand that.’
‘I don’t need to sell.’
‘I understand that, too.’
Whoops, thought Molly. There goes Trevor’s commission. If he was here he’d have a heart attack.
‘Miss Copeland,’ she said carefully, feeling as if she was treading through minefields, ‘you did say that there were only two conditions.’
‘Did I say that?’ Another prawn was speared and the old lady popped it into her mouth and glared at the two of them. ‘Then I’ve changed my mind. I’m not signing this afternoon.’
‘Can I ask why not?’ Jackson was courtesy itself. He obviously didn’t have to face Trevor, Molly thought. Uh, oh.
But Hannah was concentrating on the pair who’d own her farm. ‘I want to meet this Cara.’
‘It’s me who’s buying the farm,’ Jackson said bluntly. ‘Not Cara.’
‘But she’ll be living there,’ Hannah told him. ‘No?’
‘Yes. Eventually.’
‘And the papers say it’s Cara who’s interested in horses. My horses. My horses are included in the sale and I want to know who’s buying them.’
‘Fair enough.’ Jackson nodded. ‘But it’ll be three weeks before I’m back in the country again.’
‘And you’ll bring this Cara with you?’
‘If I can.’
‘Find out,’ the old lady snapped. ‘These modern arrangements…’ She snorted. She looked at Molly and her gimlet eyes bored right through her. ‘Are you engaged? Or married?’
‘Um…no.’
‘And you don’t have one of these fancy arrangements?’
‘No.’
‘But you do have your nephew. Doreen told me about him.’ A moment’s silence while she considered, then, ‘You’ll be needing a man, then. The boy needs a father.’
Molly gave a faint smile. ‘I think we can manage without.’ Her smile deepened. ‘Men are impossible.’
‘They are at that.’ But Hannah didn’t smile and her eyes didn’t leave Molly’s. ‘I never married. Didn’t see the point. Never met anyone who could make my heart slam against a brick wall. You ever met anyone like that?’
‘I…no.’
‘Liar,’ Hannah said without rancour. ‘I can read it in your face. You let everything out with a face like that.’
‘Really?’
‘Really. Some man has treated you like dirt. Am I right?’
‘Hey, I’m not even buying your farm,’ Molly told her.
‘So mind my own business?’ The old lady grinned. ‘You get as old as I am without a family to concern you and the world’s your business. You have a good heart, girl.’ She looked more closely at Molly. ‘This man here hasn’t been messing with it, has he?’
‘No!’ Molly practically yelled. A hush had chosen just that moment to fall over the restaurant and her ‘No’ echoed out over the other diners. Heads turned. She blushed. ‘Do you think we can get back to business?’
‘No,’ Hannah told her cheerfully. ‘This lunch isn’t about business. It’s all about getting to know you.’
‘Getting to know Jackson,’ Molly corrected her, and Hannah sighed and smiled.
‘Maybe. I haven’t made my mind up yet.’
‘Are you getting cold feet?’
With the main course over, Hannah took herself to the powder room, leaving Molly and Jackson together. To her surprise Jackson had decided to be cheerful about the inquisition. He’d answered Hannah’s questions about his background, and more and more Molly found he was turning the tables on the old lady. Hannah had ended up talking about herself, and her love of her farm shone through.
‘I’m not getting cold feet,’ he told her. ‘The more I hear about the farm the more I want it.’
‘You know, I’d be surprised if Hannah lets go entirely. Doreen and Gregor may not be the only elderly retainers you’re left with.’
‘You think Hannah will visit?’
‘If you make her welcome.’
Silence while he thought about it. Was he thinking he’d hate it-or that Cara would hate it? Molly didn’t know. His face was impassive.
A shiver ran through her. He saw it and was instantly concerned. ‘Cold?’
‘No.’ She shrugged. ‘Nothing. A ghost walked over my grave.’
‘Something’s worrying you?’
‘No.’ But his concern made her want to shiver all over again. She did feel cold. Forlorn. Bereft. Which was utterly ridiculous.
Hadn’t she sworn off all men for ever? So why did this man have the power to unnerve her?
‘Molly…’ He held out a hand across the table to her and she stared down at it. It was a gesture of comfort-nothing more. She should reach out to take it.
She couldn’t. She sat and stared at the hand. His eyes met hers and held, but there was a message there that neither wanted to read. Or neither was brave enough to read. Slowly he withdrew his hand, and very carefully she tucked both her hands safely under the table.
‘Thank you, but, no,’ she said, and he hardly knew what she was refusing. Or did he?
Hell, he was in deep water here, and he hadn’t even realised he’d been sliding right out of his depth.
The tension was broken by a yell.
‘Molly!’ The yell came from the far side of the restaurant. Molly swung around to find Hannah returning to their table-and Angela waving furiously from the restaurant entrance. Half the restaurant had swivelled to see.
Angela was still wearing her mini-skirt from this morning and her crazy stilettos, but she’d added Guy’s pinstripe jacket for warmth. Her blonde curls were still tousled from sleep, she was waving wildly across at her friend and she looked like someone who’d come straight from a welfare sale.
Dear heaven…
This was never, ever going to be a professional sale, Molly thought despairingly, and closed her eyes-just for a millisecond-just to find enough courage to open them again. When she did, Jackson and Hannah were staring in open-mouthed astonishment at the vision weaving her way through the tables.
Angela was talking full throttle before she reached them. ‘Molly, you’ll never guess what’s happened!’
‘Don’t tell me. Your wardrobe’s been eaten by silverfish and you’ve lost every hairbrush you own.’ Molly groaned. ‘Angela, for heaven’s sake-’
‘Where’s Guy?’ Angela was hardly listening. ‘Oh, heck, I’ve left him behind.’ She searched backwards and found who she was looking for. Another cheery wave across the restaurant ‘Guy. They’re over here!’
Apart from his jacket Guy, thankfully, was staidly dressed, but it was a different Guy from the Guy they’d seen two hours ago. His beam was wide enough to split his face as he came up behind Angela.
‘Great. I knew we’d find them here. I’ve heard on the grapevine Miss Copeland almost single-handedly keeps this restaurant afloat.’
‘You’re so clever.’ As he arrived at the table Angela gave him a hug, and Guy hugged her right back. Molly could only stare. This time last week Guy would have been mortified to see Angela looking like this. This Guy seemed not even to notice
‘We came to fetch Angela’s keys,’ Guy said, and Molly blinked. But at least she knew what was wanted.
‘You left the keys on the sideboard at Molly’s place,’ Jackson said blandly, and Guy groaned.
‘You didn’t think to bring them with you to lunch?’
Jackson’s blandness cracked, just a little, and there was a trace of laughter on his voice. ‘We…er…we didn’t think you’d come after us.’ He swallowed his laughter. ‘Miss Copeland, may I introduce Angela and Guy? Angela is another realtor, who works with Molly, and Guy is her…’ He hesitated.
‘Her fiancé,’ Angela finished for him proudly, and beamed and beamed. She thrust out her ring finger and the diamond sparkled in all its glory. ‘I wasn’t for a
while, but now I am again and this time it’s for ever. Guy might have forgotten the keys but he didn’t forget my ring.’
Molly cast a sideways glance at Hannah and found her beaming to match Angela. ‘At last,’ the old lady approved. ‘A proper relationship. You don’t want to buy my farm, do you, dears?’
‘For three million?’ Guy grinned and held his love tight. ‘Sorry. No chance.’
‘You know, realtors wear the strangest clothes,’ Hannah said, perusing Angela from head to toe and wrinkling her already wrinkled nose. ‘One dresses for a funeral and the other dresses for…’
‘For passion,’ Angela said promptly, and giggled again. And then she explained. ‘Guy arrived with a bus,’ she told Molly. ‘A whole bus.’ She hugged her beloved, who was turning a delicate shade of gratified pink. ‘There was a florist just near the school, where he dropped Sam. He said there wasn’t room in his car for all his flowers and there were kids lining up for a school excursion. So he made a practically obscene donation to their literacy programme-plus he shouted them all ice cream cones-on condition that they detoured past my place. He gave every kid on the bus a bunch of roses and they came up the fire stairs to deliver them.’
‘Good grief!’ Molly’s eyes flew to Guy, whose pink was turning fast to crimson. Wow! The man had improvised on her suggestion and then some. She hadn’t known he had it in him.
‘I was standing on the landing with a really angry taxi driver, because I’d left my handbag at your place, and all these kids filed up and handed me their roses one after another. Then Guy got down on bended knee and asked me to marry him-and the kids were watching and cheering… What was a girl to do?’
‘How…how special,’ Molly said, and Angela beamed some more.
‘It is.’ She turned to Hannah, moving right on. ‘So you’re Miss Copeland.’ She held out her hand in greeting. ‘How do you do? Are you trying to shake some sense into these two?’
‘Sense?’ Hannah sounded totally bemused.
‘These two are made for each other,’ Angela declared. ‘But he’s engaged to this other woman-’
‘Angela!’ Molly was on her feet, enraged. ‘You’re way out of line!’
A Millionaire For Molly Page 12
