by Juanita Kees
The townsfolk thought he was nothing short of a superhero. Sometimes they praised him a little too much and she had to draw the line on the matchmaking they had in mind for her and Travis. A relationship was definitely not something she had on her agenda no matter how kissable he looked right now with a slow smile spreading his lips.
Casey let go of Travis’ hand and skipped down the stairs to greet her. ‘Miss Penney! I learned a new word! It’s a big one.’
‘Really? You’re a clever girl. Can you say it for me?’
‘Yes! It’s exis … exhil … oh darn! I could say it a minute ago.’ She tugged on Heather’s hand. ‘Have you come for dinner? Uncle Travis is cooking steak on the barbecue.’
‘Oh no, darling, I only popped in to ask your uncle something. I won’t be staying long.’
The little girl’s smile faded and she looked up at Travis. ‘It’s okay if Miss Penney stays, isn’t it, Uncle Trav?’
Travis hooked his thumbs into the front pockets of his jeans and Heather’s eyes followed the movement. God damn it, the man was built for loving. Long rangy legs, muscled thighs stretching the denim around them, the waistband clinging to the rise of his hips and in the gap between the hem of his T-shirt and his jeans, a glimpse of smooth, taut, tanned skin her fingers itched to touch.
Only in her dreams would she allow that though. Travis Bailey had enough on his plate. She had to be happy on her own.
He pushed away from the post and strolled down the stairs. He moved like liquid gold—hot, smooth and easy. Without his hat hiding his eyes, she was treated to the full impact of his gaze. It sent shivers coursing down her spine and a healthy shot of want to parts she didn’t want it to touch.
‘Hello, Heather. Not sure to what we owe the pleasure of your visit, but you’re welcome to stay.’
She tried, and failed, to push a ‘no’ past her lips. What harm could it do? It wasn’t like she had plans past a glass of wine and a microwave meal anyhow. Plus Casey was there and it was unlikely anything would happen between them. The last thing she wanted was conflict of interest on the case file, the barrier against forming a friendship with this little family. Travis was just being neighbourly. The most they had to worry about was the gossip it might start in town.
‘Thank you, I’d like that.’
He delivered a knee-buckling smile to match Casey’s excited whoop. ‘Come on then. We were just finishing Casey’s reading lesson before lighting the fire out the back.’ He led the way up the veranda stairs, giving her a fine view of his denim-clad backside. A very fine view.
If she treated him like eye candy, he couldn’t steal her heart, because Travis Bailey had all the makings of everything she wanted in a life partner except, she reminded herself, she wasn’t in the market for one.
When her mother died, she’d packed away all the good, happy memories in Darwin and run away to escape the sadness, the emptiness. If she didn’t look for happiness here, there would be nothing to leave behind when it came time to move on and no sadness to run from.
‘Miss Penney?’ Casey’s voice broke her thoughts.
‘Yes, darling?’
‘Will you help me make the salad to go with the steak? Uncle Travis says I need to eat all my greens to grow big and strong like him.’
‘Your uncle is a very wise man. Yes, I’ll give you a hand. What are we putting in the salad bowl?’
‘Lettuce, tomatoes, kale—that’s a super food, you know. Makes you super strong and healthy. Uncle Trav says so and look how big and strong he is.’
Yes, indeed, she thought as she watched him disappear through the front door.
Casey tugged at her hand and Heather followed her into the house. She took a moment to appreciate the air of peace and tranquillity in the cool entrance hall. On her routine visits she usually didn’t stop to notice anything more than the neat orderliness of Travis’ home. It was so much more pleasant to visit in an unofficial capacity, she thought.
Polished jarrah floorboards ran the length of the hallway to the rear of the house and the bedroom wing. Off to her right the sunny kitchen beckoned with its cheerful bay window filled with potted herbs. Casey’s handiwork, Travis had told her on her first visit to his home. This was the room she loved the most. Warm, homely and inviting, it ran the full length of the right side of the house with a door leading out to the backyard and another out onto the front veranda, built for large family gatherings.
On the left, the lounge room had French doors leading out onto the side of the house where the veranda faced another view of the majestic slope of Whispering Hills. How lucky he was to have a three hundred and sixty degree view of rolling countryside and open space.
Near the leadlight front door, above a table against the wall, hung a gallery of family photos. She slowed her steps to study them under the soft lighting from the antique chandelier suspended from the decorative ceiling rose.
‘That’s my mummy,’ said Casey, pointing up to a photo of a woman who shared the same green eyes as Travis. ‘Mummy and Uncle Travis were twins.’
‘I know, sweetheart. That’s pretty cool, isn’t it? Twins always have a special bond.’ Heather looked at the photo a little more closely. That would have made his loss an even harder one. It must have been a nightmare for him. She couldn’t imagine what it was like to lose a sibling, let alone a twin.
All she’d had was the other foster kids until her mum had come for her and taken her home. No one formed long-lasting bonds in foster care and her mum had never married or even been in a relationship to produce siblings. She’d never considered how alone they’d been before, until now when she saw their situation mirrored in Travis and Casey’s.
‘What are the two of you up to?’ Travis asked, turning to come back down the hallway when he realised they weren’t following him.
‘I’m showing Miss Penney the photos. That’s okay, isn’t it, Uncle Trav?’ Casey’s voice wobbled. ‘That’s not naughty, is it?’
‘Of course it’s okay, sweet pea.’ He lifted her up and balanced her in his arms so she was face-level height with the photos. ‘We have lots of happy memories to share.’
He cast a look Heather’s way. A few unhappy ones too, she thought, seeing the fleeting sadness in his eyes.
‘That’s my nan and pop,’ Casey continued. ‘They travel a lot so we don’t get to see them often.’
‘Grey nomads,’ added Travis. ‘Never in one spot for long. They’re travelling around Australia in a camper van.’
Heather wondered at the hitch in his voice, the underlying pain she heard there. What had happened that had made his family leave him to raise his sister’s child alone and run his farm as well as the neighbour’s? She frowned. How could they leave their grandchild behind?
‘Don’t judge them, Heather. I don’t. It’s their way of dealing with what happened to Tracy. They took it hard. We all did, and then we had to find a way to work through it. Mine was to stay here, theirs was to travel until the memories fade. Trust me, it was for the best.’
‘I understand,’ she said, even though she didn’t. She held his gaze a moment, felt his sadness and loss, tinged with a shade of guilt. All she could be was the ear to listen when he was ready to tell her the whole story.
She wanted to ask about Casey’s father, but now was not the time. All her file notes only mentioned Casey’s mum. Not even the little girl’s birth registration named the father. Heather knew what it was like to have ‘undeclared’ stamped into that empty spot.
‘My mummy was very brave, wasn’t she, Uncle Trav?’
‘Yes, she was, sweet pea.’ For a moment silence stretched between them as Casey hugged his neck tightly and he hugged her back. ‘Come on now, why don’t you introduce Miss Penney to Fantasia before it gets too dark?’
‘Ooh yes! Do you like horses, Miss Penney?’ Casey looked up at her with hope in her eyes.
‘Well, I don’t really know. I’ve never met one before,’ Heather teased.
Casey giggled.
‘You’ll like Fantasia. She was Mummy’s horse. She’s very gentle and even I can ride her.’
‘Until she gets the wind up her backside and then she’s off. Lucky she knows only to do that when I ride her. Off you go, and don’t stay down there too long, okay?’ Travis set Casey to her feet and on her way with a little tap on her shoulder. ‘Stop on your way through the kitchen and grab an apple.’
‘Okay. You coming, Miss Penney?’
‘Sure am,’ Heather said, stepping around Travis. Her stomach pitched as her arm brushed his. He was warm and inviting, and it had been so long since she’d felt strong arms around her. So long since she’d felt loved and wanted. As perfect as Travis might be as a lover, she couldn’t let him be the man for her.
Ignoring the flare of heat in his eyes as she glanced at him, she took off after Casey.
Chapter 4
Travis cranked up the gas on the barbecue to burn the residue fat from the cast iron grill and watched Casey and Heather play with Fantasia. God damn it, Heather was getting under his skin in a good way that was bad. Whatever her reason was for the visit, he couldn’t help being pleased to see her.
Looking scorching in a pair of skinny leg jeans, bush boots and a chambray shirt rolled up at the sleeves, he could picture her riding Fantasia through Harry’s daisy field. Bloody hell, he could picture her naked in the daisy field, on her back, with that long red hair spread out around her. And that was not a good thing to be picturing when playing with fire.
He turned down the gas to regulate the flame before it set the barbecue alight, and wished he could do the same with the flame burning inside him.
His senses had been on red alert since Heather had accepted the position with the Department of Health and Welfare and come to the town six months ago to take over from the taciturn and inflexible, no rule-breaking Mrs Wallace.
He’d taken one look at the five-foot-nothing redhead and fallen a little in … no, not love. He wouldn’t call it that because love meant engagement rings and weddings and forever. He wasn’t a forever man. He hadn’t earned the right to be. So he’d call it good old-fashioned lust that a night of sheet wrinkling would cure.
The lilt of her voice had invaded his dreams, along with that sweet face and big smile that made her cheeks lift and her nose wrinkle. And those eyes the colour of well-aged whiskey had his heart pounding every time she looked his way.
Across the fence that separated the garden from the paddock, Fantasia nudged Heather’s shoulder, blew out through her teeth and tossed her head. He smiled. It looked like she had the horse’s approval too. Until now, he’d kept the old girl down in the back paddock during Heather’s visits in case the palomino got it into her head to nip. Tonight’s surprise visit hadn’t given him time to do that and he prayed Fantasia would behave like the lady she usually was.
Heather bent her head to Casey’s and laughed at something his niece said. His heart missed a beat. It was a move Tracy had made often with a similar touch of motherly tenderness. Heather had that same sweet softness about her, that caring nature that drew people in for comfort.
Oh God, was that why Casey had taken such a shining to her? Because Heather reminded her of Tracy? Was Casey seeing a mother figure in her? Which meant …
Travis picked up the flat stainless steel spatula to scrape the loosened residue from the grill on the barbecue. Jesus, he hoped the ladies at the CWA and all the others in town weren’t seeing the same thing.
He wasn’t looking for a wife, or a mother for Casey. They were doing just fine by themselves, but he could almost hear his sister’s voice saying, ‘She’s the one, Trav.’
‘No, she’s not,’ he mumbled, as if his sister was listening from somewhere high above the clouds. ‘We’re fine on our own,’ he added, in case she hadn’t heard his thoughts.
He wondered who he was trying to convince as Heather and Casey made their way back up from the paddock. If Wongan Creek Mining were looking for their precious metal, it was right here on his land, and he wasn’t talking about underground.
The last of the sun’s rays picked out the lighter streaks that threaded Heather’s red hair. She’d let it loose from the restricting, official ponytail she wore on the job. He followed the skeins of gold to where that glorious mane caressed her collarbones.
Oh for Christ’s sake, he was waxing lyrical like one of the bloody poets at the annual writers’ festival. At this rate, he’d have his own entry next year.
Talk about conflict of interest. Case worker or not and despite the threat she might be to his family, that sway of Heather’s hips, the angle of her shoulders and the perkiness of her breasts had him by the short and curlies. Which made now the right time for him to get into the fridge to grab a beer and the steaks before he embarrassed himself. The best he could do was focus on proving to her he was the best uncle and guardian Casey could ever wish for.
‘You girls better get into gear with that salad,’ he called over his shoulder as he headed inside. ‘I’m ready to cook.’
And ready to heat up a whole lot more than the steaks. He hoped Heather had something up her sleeve for discussion that would piss him off enough to forget about her attributes and single status.
Heather and Casey came up from the paddock into the kitchen and girl chatter filled his kitchen as they gathered the tools from the cupboards and drawers to make their salad. He leaned into the refrigerator to grab hold of the neck of a beer bottle from the six pack. It was kinda nice, almost like the old days when Mum and Tracy would go at it over doing the dishes. They’d always had so much to say to each other, while he and Dad … well, they’d never really seen eye to eye, so conversations had been stilted and focused on farm business.
Irritation and more than a little regret shimmied across his memories. Not much he could do about that now with them hardly ever coming home, not even for Christmas—especially not then. Not when, with each passing year, they saw a little more of Casey’s father in her features when all they wanted to see was their daughter and erase the ugliness of the past.
He shrugged off the grump that had settled on his shoulders and forced a smile onto his face. ‘Want a drink, Heather?’ he called without removing his head from the fridge.
‘I don’t suppose you have any wine?’
‘Nope, sorry, closest I can get to that is apple juice,’ he teased, his spirits lifting at the sound of that lilt. ‘I have beer, or some fabulous local stuff I picked up at the markets last week.’
‘Moonshine? I hope it’s legal. That stuff can lead to a lethal hangover.’
He knew she was teasing but her words hit close to home. He probably shouldn’t be drinking beer in front of Casey, not even when he rationed himself to one. He couldn’t afford any black marks against his name to jeopardise his guardianship or the upcoming adoption application. If that meant giving up beer for Casey, he would. Without hesitation. ‘Best we stick with the juice then.’
He put the bottle back into the six pack and swapped it for fresh, locally pressed apple juice. Holding two in one hand, he grabbed a third bottle for Casey then nudged the door closed with his foot.
Putting the bottles down on the kitchen counter, he twisted the lids off and tossed them in the trash. He handed a bottle to Casey where she stood at the table sorting the salad ingredients. She giggled and his grin widened.
‘Uncle Trav! You know we always have apple juice out of Mummy’s tea service.’
Travis ruffled Casey’s curls. ‘How could I forget?’ He reached into the middle shelf of the old pine dresser and took down the tiniest set of teacups and a mini teapot. He proceeded to pour the juice into the pot and handed it to Casey. ‘There you go, Miss Casey. Please pour the tea.’
Casey grinned and concentrated on pouring the juice into the cups. Over her head, Heather smiled at him and his heart melted a little more.
‘Thank you, darling.’ She sat at the table and took the teeny cup and saucer Casey handed her, only spilling a little from the overfull c
up.
He looked down at his hands that made the porcelain look even smaller as he struggled to hold it by the minuscule ear. ‘Cheers,’ he said, taking a sip which for him was the whole contents of the teacup.
‘Cheers.’ Heather smiled at him as he held out his cup for a refill.
He took another mouthful and, from the corner of his eye, watched Heather do the same.
Hot damn.
He lowered the tiny cup an inch from his lips to watch her drink. Her eyelashes fluttered down to meet the upper edge of her cheekbones as her lips pursed on the rim of the doll-size teacup. She tilted her head back and drank, a swallow his gaze followed way past where it should.
Holy fucking bat shit.
Her beautiful, long-fingered hand cupped around the porcelain like a lover’s would and it was hard not to imagine them curling around him. But it was the creamy skin of her throat he was hooked on, that he wanted to press his lips against.
‘Uncle Trav?’
He tore his gaze from Heather. ‘Yes, sweet pea?’
‘The barbecue’s on fire,’ said Casey, pointing out the door to where bright orange flames licked their way past the grill.
That’s not all that was on fire, he thought, as he grabbed a jug of water from the kitchen bench and dashed out to dip his hand in the liquid and douse the flames with a sprinkle from his fingers. Heather followed, carrying the tray holding the steaks.
‘You forgot these,’ she said as he turned the knobs on the barbecue to the off position to give the flames time to settle. ‘You know … most people would use a fire extinguisher.’
‘Cheers,’ he answered, taking the tray from her with a grin. ‘Too messy with a fire extinguisher. I’d never get that powder off the grill and we’d never get the steaks cooked. How do you like yours done?’
‘By anyone other than me.’
And then she smiled and it hit him square in the groin, so he turned the flame back on and slapped the steaks on the grill. Getting all hot and bothered over Heather was only asking for trouble. He’d have to get it together or he’d need a long, cold shower before bed time.
