by Margaret Way
‘But you did,’ she cried, startled by the sudden turn of his thoughts. ‘Don’t you remember?’
‘I was too upset to think straight.’
‘I’ll never forget that day. Dad was so angry his eyes were almost shaking in his head, but you more than stood your ground, Jacob. You pushed me to one side and started marching towards him like Achilles challenging Hector.’
‘All I remember is that I didn’t stand up to your old man the way I wanted to. I was afraid he would hurt you, or my mother.’
‘You were as stubborn as he was,’ Nell told him, smiling a little at the vivid memory. ‘I was terrified you’d try to fight—that he might go into one of his violent tempers and shoot you. In the end, I was the one who told you to go. I ordered you away.’
‘Did you really?’
‘It seemed to take forever. You both just stood there, taking deep breaths and staring at each other.’
She shivered as she remembered the tension of it, the awful journey back to the homestead, the fearsome control of her father and her removal to Melbourne, how she’d cried for weeks.
‘Don’t think about it now, Jacob.’
‘There’s no point, is there?’
‘None at all. It’s ancient history. Here, try one of these grapes. They’re so sweet and juicy.’
When they’d finished their meal, they threw the paper and empty cans into a rubbish bin and walked together back to her house.
‘Perhaps I should take Sam now,’ she said at her front gate. ‘He might be less disturbed if we swap here, rather than inside with the lights and everything.’
They’d handed the baby to each other several times now, so Nell had no idea why, this time, it took so long and felt so incredibly intimate. Perhaps it was a matter of proximity.
Jacob didn’t step away and neither did she. And her skin grew tight and her breathing faltered as they stood together in the dusky twilight. And then Jacob dipped his head and kissed her cheek. ‘Night, Nell.’
‘Would you like to come inside?’ she found herself whispering.
‘I’d love to.’ He dropped a feather-soft kiss on her brow. ‘But I’m not going to.’
Oh.
Her disappointment was silly. This was the first day of a month-long trial.
And she should be grateful that Jacob was much more cautious now than he had been when they were nineteen.
From the front seat of Jacob’s Range Rover, Nell smiled when she saw a set of five-barred gates and a weathered timber signpost bearing the name Koomalong in dark green lettering.
Their vehicle rattled over the cattle grid.
‘I’ll get the gate,’ she called, opening her door as soon as the vehicle came to a halt and jumping down, as eager as a child, home from boarding school.
She pushed the gate open and smiled again as she heard the musical squeak of its rusty hinge. Was there ever a gate in the Outback that didn’t have squeaky hinges? She watched the dusty vehicle pass through, closed the gate and stood, looking about her, taking everything in.
Beyond the gate, a dirt track led up a gentle, brown-grassed slope and, on the brow of the hill, a magnificent old gum-tree stood clear against the blue blaze of the sky. The tree’s solid trunk was silvery-white and its soft, grey-green leaves hung with a familiar tapering droop.
Nell sniffed at the air. The Outback smelled exactly as she remembered. She dragged in a deeper breath, absorbing with it the scents of dusty earth and cattle and the subtler notes of dry grass, of sunshine and eucalyptus.
She’d had occasional trips into the countryside during her marriage, but Robert had been uncomfortable away from the city so they’d never stayed long. Now, a kookaburra broke into laughter and a thrill of excitement rippled through her.
It was good to be back.
‘Are you going to stand there all day?’ Jacob called to her.
Turning, she saw the white flash of his teeth in his tanned face as he grinned back at her.
‘Coming,’ she called. And then, as she climbed back into her seat and pulled the door shut, she thought, Jacob’s right. This is my country. It’s so good to be back in the bush.
She turned to check Sam in his carrier on the back seat, happily cocooned between Jacob’s dogs—a Labrador and a blue cattle dog which they’d collected from a boarding kennel in Roma.
There’d been an agitated few minutes when the dogs had first seen Sam and the tension had escalated when they’d located Ambrose in a cage in the back of the vehicle. But, after a quiet word from Jacob and a scratch behind the dogs’ ears, they had settled down beautifully.
Now, as Jacob drove along bumpy tracks that crossed grassy paddocks dotted with cattle and gum-trees, Nell could make out the course of a creek marked by the wattle trees and melaleucas that lined its banks. Another burst of kookaburras’ laughter sounded and, from the stretch of brown grassland, the piercing three-note call of a spur-winged plover.
She began to feel as if she’d come home.
Which was pretty silly, considering this wasn’t exactly a homecoming. She had no actual right to feel so choked up and sentimental. She was moving into Jacob’s home on a trial basis. Not the same thing at all.
Who knew if this experiment would work?
She wasn’t sure what Jacob expected. He had reverted to being very practical and helpful. And Nell had been totally occupied with learning to cope with Sam while packing up. Any hint of romance had been dropped.
If the nineteen-year-old Nell had been told that she and Jacob Tucker could have spent so much time in each other’s company without sharing so much as a kiss, she would never have believed it. Nell still found it hard to believe.
Secretly, she’d wondered if Jacob and she were complicit in a crazy mind game where they’d both pretended not to want each other. She had even indulged in the dangerous fantasy that once they got to Koomalong they would fall in love again and give up pretending. The horrible thing was, she knew deep down that if their experiment failed she would leave Koomalong brokenhearted.
So this was potentially dangerous territory and as the track turned a corner and a low, sprawling, white homestead became visible through a grove of shade trees, she had no idea what lay ahead.
The situation became crystal clear, however, the minute Jacob brought the vehicle to a halt at the bottom of the homestead’s front steps and a figure uncurled with catlike grace from a cane chair on the veranda.
Nell swallowed her gasp of surprise as a young woman—a long-legged, green-eyed, Titian-haired girl in tight jeans and a low-necked blouse—sauntered confidently down the steps, her smile radiant as she waved at them.
‘Who’s that?’ she asked Jacob.
He groaned. ‘A girl from Roma.’
‘A girlfriend?’
‘No,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘I met her once at a party.’
Nell’s fingers trembled as she unfastened her seat belt and she chastised herself for not being prepared for something like this. Any woman with reasonable eyesight knew that Jacob was an attractive man. Chances were, he had quite a fan club and she would have to get used to it.
Slipping quickly out of the vehicle, she turned her attention to the dogs and to Sam, while behind her the young woman embraced Jacob with noisy enthusiasm.
The dogs, eager to be out of the car, bounded away clearly ecstatic to be free, darting about the garden, sniffing, lifting legs, exploring.
Nell unbuckled the straps that had held Sam safe, scooping him up. ‘This is your new home, little man.’
He was delightfully drowsy and warm as she lifted him out. She kissed his soft, chubby cheek and cuddled him close, was overawed once more by how quickly and completely this darling little fellow had claimed her heart.
‘Ooh, the baby!’ the girl shrieked. ‘Jacob’s housekeeper has been telling me all about him. I’ve been dying to meet him. His name’s Sam, isn’t it?’
The redhead scurried around to Nell’s side of the Range Rover. ‘Hello.
’ She beamed at Nell and countless silver bangles tinkled as she offered her hand. ‘I’m Katrina.’
Nell smiled carefully. ‘Hello, Katrina. I’m Nell.’
Katrina pulled a face at Sam, screwing up her nose and pouting her bright lips. ‘Aren’t you the cutest button?’ Straightening, she smiled more coyly at Nell, lifting a smooth eyebrow. ‘You must be the baby’s nanny.’
‘Not exactly,’ Nell said quietly and with necessary dignity. ‘I’m his grandmother.’
Katrina giggled nervously and then she smacked a hand over her mouth. Clearly puzzled, she turned to Jacob, who had joined them, looking thunderous.
‘So she’s—’ Katrina hooked a thumb towards Nell, her frown deepening. ‘So if Nell’s the baby’s grandmother, then that must mean that you and she—’ Looking flustered and red-faced, she shot another anxious glance Jacob’s way and finished her sentence with a flap of her hand, setting the bangles jangling again.
‘It was all a long time ago,’ Nell said, taking pity on her. ‘Water under the bridge.’
Jacob nodded, which she took to be approval. ‘Come on inside,’ he said. ‘I’ll show you around.’
‘Just a minute. I need to fetch Sam’s bag of tricks out of the car and I should rescue poor Ambrose from the back. Here, Jacob, you take Sam.’
Katrina watched with hawklike attention as Nell handed Sam to Jacob. Nell wondered if the other woman felt the same little swooning sensation she always felt when she saw tiny Sam cradled in Jacob’s big, muscular arms.
With the nappy bag in one hand and Ambrose’s cage in the other, she followed Jacob and Katrina up the steps, across the deep veranda and into his house.
It was a lovely house, quite old in the traditional Queenslander style, with a ripple iron roof, timber walls and a wide veranda running around all four sides. Generous-sized rooms with high ceilings opened on to the verandas and the central hallway, creating cross ventilation, so necessary in summer.
A classic timber archway separated the lounge and dining rooms and all the walls were painted in pale tones, increasing the impression of light and space.
But the decor was very masculine and rather urban, with lots of dark leather and smoky glass and chrome, not quite the cosy country homestead that Nell had anticipated.
‘Is it OK if I let Ambrose out of jail?’ she asked Jacob.
He grinned. ‘Sure.’
She released the catch on the cage and Ambrose approached his freedom cautiously, padding forward on soft paws with his tail high, like a feathery plume, as he explored the lounge room.
‘Will the dogs be jealous if he’s allowed inside?’
Jacob shook his head and was clearly very confident. ‘Not at all. They’re well-trained.’
Sharp-eyed Katrina was watching Nell closely. ‘What do you think of the house?’
‘It’s beautiful,’ Nell said diplomatically. She smiled warily at Jacob. ‘Plenty of room for the three of us.’
‘There are four bedrooms and a sleep-out on the veranda,’ he said. ‘Stacks of room for your quilting stuff.’ He returned her smile and she fancied she caught a bright flash of warmth in his eyes, just for her.
Sam squirmed in Jacob’s arms and let out a wail.
Nell recognised that cry. ‘He needs changing.’
Katrina, smugly important, pointed to a room to their right. ‘Hilda set up the cot and changing table in there.’
‘Terrific.’ Jacob headed in the direction she’d indicated. ‘Let’s get you comfortable, little mate.’
‘Can’t Nell take care of him?’ Katrina interjected.
Jacob hesitated. Over the past few days he’d become almost as adept at nappy-changing as Nell. Now, he stood in the middle of the hallway, holding Sam while his frowning gaze flashed from one woman to the other.
‘You didn’t say what brings you out here, Katrina.’
‘Oh, I was just passing this way and Hilda mentioned you were coming home today.’
He nodded cautiously. ‘Thanks for dropping in.’
Katrina, hands on hips, watched him, watched Nell. Her mouth opened as if she planned to say something else, but then she seemed to change her mind and suddenly retrieved a tiny mobile phone from the pocket of her jeans. After flipping a few numbers and squinting at the phone’s screen, she flashed them a triumphant grin. ‘Something’s come up,’ she said. ‘Sorry, I can’t stay after all.’
Jacob’s eyebrows lifted, but he said politely, ‘That’s a pity. Nell, can you take care of Sam? I’ll see you out, Katrina.’
Nell decided that Sam needed a bath after the long and dusty journey. It would make him happy and would keep them both out of Jacob’s way while he chatted with Katrina.
She had no trouble locating a bathroom and soon Sam was splashing happily in a few inches of water in the bottom of a big blue bath.
As Nell trickled warm water over his head and tummy, she could hear Katrina’s voice coming from the side veranda and the low rumble of Jacob’s responses. Fortunately, they were far enough away that she couldn’t hear exactly what was being said.
Nell concentrated on Sam, telling him what a good boy he was as he splashed and cooed back at her and at last the voices stopped. Taking a soft, fluffy towel from the bathroom shelf, she scooped Sam up and bundled him in it. He looked impossibly cute and smelled wonderfully clean and soapy and so delicious that she couldn’t resist showering him with kisses.
‘I have to make the most of my opportunities while you’re tiny,’ she told him. ‘There’ll come a day when you won’t relish being kissed by your grandma.’
A sound from the doorway startled her. Looking up, she saw Jacob standing there, one hand raised to grip the lintel, another propped on his hip, his expression closely shuttered.
‘Oh, hello,’ she said. ‘I thought a bath would be refreshing for Sam.’
From outside came the sound of a car door closing and an engine revving. As the car moved away from the house, Nell felt a wave of sisterly concern for Katrina.
‘I hope you were kind to her, Jacob.’
‘I was exceedingly polite.’
Nell knew very well that politeness did not always equate with kindness, but she didn’t think it was her place to say so now.
‘And no, I haven’t slept with her,’ Jacob added, answering a question Nell hadn’t asked but had certainly pondered. ‘I’ll start unpacking the car,’ he said, turning abruptly, clearly upset or embarrassed. Or both.
Oh, boy. It wasn’t the easiest of beginnings.
Nell looked down at Sam, who had found his thumb and had started to suck on it. Whatever the real story about Katrina was, her presence here had brought into sharp focus some home truths that Nell had diligently tried to overlook. No way had Jacob Tucker been celibate for the past twenty years.
And, while she and Jacob might be the same age, Nell knew that men, given half a chance, always went for younger women. Robert’s new girlfriend was a perfect example. It was generally accepted that many men, like Jacob, got more interesting as they matured, while women …
Oh, heck, let’s face it. Women simply … lose their looks.
Nell was pushing forty. There were stretch marks on her tummy and she was at least a whole dress size bigger than when she’d been nineteen. Perhaps she’d been totally, totally foolish to fantasise about Jacob falling in love with her again.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE bedrooms at Koomalong were large and cool with French windows opening on to the veranda. Nell was to sleep in a room next to Sam’s, while Jacob’s room was further down the hallway, closer to the kitchen.
She rather liked her room. It was old-fashioned and feminine with pale rose walls, a deeper rose carpet and soft white floor-length curtains. The double bed was covered in a white spread embroidered with sprigs of flowers and there was an English oak dressing table with a swing mirror and all manner of little drawers.
‘This is lovely,’ she told Jacob as he piled her suitcases neatly in front of the b
ig silky oak wardrobe.
‘Glad you like it. Come and take a look at the sleep-out on the side veranda. See if it will suit as a quilting room.’
It was, she soon discovered, perfect. A long section of veranda on the northern side had been closed in, with deep sash windows that looked out over a long, shady paddock. There was even a big old table there, perfect for laying out fabric and for fiddling with colours and patterns.
‘Will this do?’ Jacob asked, watching her face carefully.
‘It’s wonderful. So big. And it has lovely vibes. I’m sure this will be a very inspiring place to work in.’ She beamed at him. ‘And thank you for showing me this room before you showed me the kitchen.’
He looked surprised. ‘I don’t expect you to spend much time in the kitchen. I’m happy to do my share of the cooking.’
‘Really?’ Robert had never cooked so much as an egg.
Jacob was keen to show her more. ‘Sam’s still asleep, so why don’t you come outside and I’ll introduce you to the horses. I think you’ll love Belladonna, my mare.’
‘Oh, yes, your mare is Koomalong’s star attraction.’
‘She’s the main reason you agreed to come here.’
‘Exactly.’
Their voices were playful, but when their eyes met the playfulness vanished. A shiver trembled through Nell as she stood, trapped by Jacob’s serious gaze.
If he’d looked at her that way when they’d been nineteen, she would have quickly closed the distance between them, thrown her arms around him and kissed him till he smiled at her. They would have ended up laughing in each other’s arms, kissing some more, tumbling on to the grass together, making love.
At thirty-nine, Nell was much more careful. Walking towards the door, she said softly, ‘Show me the way to these horses.’
At the back of the house there was the usual scattering of farm buildings—a machinery shed built from corrugated iron, garages, a laundry and, beyond these, the stables and a horse paddock.
As they walked, Jacob said, ‘In case you were wondering, I’m not expecting any other women to turn up on my doorstep.’
