Stranded: A Mountain Man Romance

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Stranded: A Mountain Man Romance Page 51

by Piper Sullivan


  I could see Bianca sigh with relief. “Of course,” she said. “You can dress up as anything or anyone you like! Some people like to be scary characters, like ghosts or mummies. But lots of other people dress up as famous people or characters.”

  “Cool,” Max said. He offered Bianca a small smile, then continued eating.

  Bianca looked at me gratefully. I smiled back at her. It was a start, at least.

  The kids were finally put to bed, after I had read them all a bedtime story.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. At last, I could relax and head to bed. It was so good to be home, and I had to admit, it felt very good to have the children back at Birrimba. It was their home, after all. It had been in our family for five generations. The legacy was strong, and I didn’t want it to end with me. Not after how hard my ancestors had worked to build it up.

  Birrimba was in my blood. And I wanted my children to feel that calling too. It was worth more than all the money in the world. I walked out onto the veranda, gazing up at the sky. There wasn’t anything like it. The night sky in the desert was a sight to behold. A million stars twinkled in the sky, as far as the eye could see. I leaned against the old weatherboard railing, soaking in the night. Finally, I felt myself relax.

  I heard a movement. Was there somebody out here? I felt myself bristle, slightly. I enjoyed this time being by myself, of a night. I didn’t particularly feel like speaking to anyone.

  And then I saw her. Bianca. She was on the other side of the veranda, leaning against the railing just like I had been. Her face was tilted toward the night sky; she looked like she was a thousand miles away, in her head. Sad? Pensive, at least.

  Well, she was a long way from home. And this was all so new to her. I continued to watch her; I didn’t think she had any idea that I was there.

  She sighed, picking up her long dark hair with her hands, and twisting it into a knot on top of her head. Then she let it fall, shaking it out. I was spellbound; it was one of the sexiest gestures I had seen in a long, long time. Suddenly, I was imagining her in bed, naked, picking up her hair and letting it fall, just like she had done.

  I imagined her above me, breasts swaying, surrounded by all that long, dark hair…

  I shook my head, wryly. This was the third time today that I had become aware of her as a woman. It had to stop. I couldn’t have these thoughts clouding my judgment of her; they were too distracting. And besides, I wasn’t ready to go there, even if she had have been a likely candidate. I was still raw over the break up with Jo. Even though I had instigated it, it still hurt like hell.

  Divorce was like a death. You had to move through the stages of grief slowly; there was no rushing it.

  Bianca turned, as if she had heard something. I backed away, so she wasn’t aware of me. She stood still for a moment, then with another deep sigh moved away, back into the house. I could hear her footsteps as she walked to her bedroom.

  Even though I hadn’t wanted to be seen, I suddenly felt her absence keenly. I wanted to follow her down the hallway, softly open the door to her room. What would she be doing? Would I catch her just as she was undressing for bed?

  Stop it, I told myself sternly. Let it be.

  But that picture of her stayed with me for the rest of the night.

  Bianca

  “Bianca! Look!”

  I glanced around at Poppy, who was buried deep in an old chest. She was pulling things out and tossing them to the floor at an alarming pace. We had climbed the pull-down stairs to the attic half an hour ago, and I was half regretting my decision to make these Halloween costumes.

  The attic was simply jammed with items. It was hard to make a start, and when we had, there was so much it was overwhelming. It seemed like the attic had never been cleaned out; there were items in here from when the homestead had first been founded. I had already found an old parasol, like they used in the nineteenth century.

  Harper had found an old porcelain doll, which she was now playing with. She had named it Dora, after her favorite children’s show. Dora was so old she creaked as Harper bent her, and her head lolled dangerously. I could see an accident happening, could just picture her screams when the head suddenly fell off.

  Whose doll had it been, I wondered. Some little girl had loved her, once upon a time.

  Poppy sneezed. It seemed like we were disturbing colonies of dust spores, that had lived here for decades. I felt my eyes twitching, as well.

  I spied another old chest, buried deep in the corner. I opened its lid, coughing slightly as the smell hit me. Musty. But as my eyes adjusted to the light, I could see old fabric. My heart did a little twirl.

  I carefully pulled it out, gasping. It was indeed old. An original Victorian gown, high collared. It was yellowed with age; it must have been white, once upon a time. It was made of lace and silk, and in remarkably good condition.

  “Girls,” I called, over my shoulder. “Come and have a look at this!”

  They stood up and came over. Poppy’s eyes widened, and Harper sat down as if in a trance, reverently stroking the old material.

  “Did it belong to a lady?” she whispered.

  “It must have,” I said. I let the girls admire it, and looked back in the chest.

  I pulled out a wide brimmed hat, and a small jewelry box. I opened it, to see an old Cameo brooch, a pearl necklace and matching clip on pearl earrings. This was vintage at its best. I knew some shops in San Francisco that would pay a small fortune for this stuff. The dress, especially.

  There was something else, tucked away at the bottom of the trunk. Was it a book? I hauled it out, blowing dust off it. It was indeed a book; it looked like someone’s journal. I opened it to the first page. Old spidery handwriting leapt out, with a date at the top, the second of February, 1892.

  Wow. Whose journal had it been? Without even thinking, I started to read. But at that moment, Mrs. Price’s voice could be heard at the top of the stairs.

  “Miss Harris,” she called. “I am not sure if you are aware, but it is after twelve thirty. The children need their lunch.” There was reproach in her voice, of course.

  I sighed, rolling my eyes. The girls giggled.

  “Coming,” I called back. I turned to the girls. “Let’s grab all the stuff that we found, and go and get some lunch. We can always come up again later if we need anything else.”

  They nodded, carefully gathering the items. Harper grabbed Dora, then looked at me. “Can I please take her?”

  I nodded. What harm could it do? And Harper had fallen in love.

  The girls trailed down the stairs. I looked at the journal. Should I?

  Why not. I added it to the pile, walking carefully with my loot down the stairs.

  The girls were excitedly talking about our finds over lunch.

  Max feigned disinterest, but I could tell he was a little intrigued. He had refused to come and help us, preferring to be outside with Robbo, as usual. But at least he was starting to come around, if only a little.

  “I found an old dolly,” Harper lisped. “And we found a very old dress, that Daddy’s mummy must have worn!”

  I laughed at her. “It wouldn’t have been your Daddy’s mother who wore that dress, Harper,” I said. “It’s over a hundred years old. More like your Daddy’s great-great-grandmother.”

  “Great, great, what?” she looked at me, her eyes bulging. I shook my head, laughing still. How did you explain time like that to a four-year-old?

  “Well, anyway,” I turned to Max, “we have enough material to start making the costumes for Halloween. So, you want to be Batman?”

  “Maybe,” he said. “Or Spiderman. I don’t know.”

  “Okay,” I said. “But can you make up your mind by the end of today? I will need to start sewing. Halloween is only two weeks away.”

  He nodded. “And what about you two?” I said, turning to the girls.

  “I want to be a fairy,” said Harper. “With wings, and a wand.”

  “Perfect,” I
said, smiling at her. “Poppy?”

  Poppy thought for a moment. “Could I be Alice, from Alice in Wonderland?”

  “Wonderful choice,” I said. The girls giggled, and clapped their hands. Even Max smiled.

  “We’ll need to make some decorations, too,” I said. “We’ll have to get a pumpkin to make a jack o’lantern. And I’ll make some skeletons and other stuff.” I was getting excited, myself. Halloween had always been one of my favorite times of the year, and I loved getting creative and making stuff. Well, I had trained as a fashion designer.

  “It’s going to be so much fun!” I clapped. The girls laughed.

  At that moment, Zane walked into the room, talking into his phone. He ended the call, then came over to the table.

  “What’s going to be so much fun?” he asked, staring at me.

  I was struck again by what an attractive man he was.

  This surprised me; I hadn’t thought about men in months, and I had never been overly interested. Whereas a lot of my friends were still with their childhood sweethearts or entering serious relationships, I had never had a long-term boyfriend. Cara and I had discussed it a bit. She thought it had something to do with the fact that our Dad had walked out on our Mom when we were young. Cara thought we both had trust issues.

  I didn’t like to over analyze it, like she did. I just knew I was usually happier on my own, and I couldn’t be bothered putting up with any bullshit from a man. Maybe I just hadn’t found the right one, yet.

  But I was certainly impressed with Zane. Well, at least my body was. I could feel myself blushing as he continued staring at me. I couldn’t seem to find my voice.

  “Halloween, Daddy!” answered Poppy, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Don’t you remember?”

  “Oh,” said Zane, acting as if he was sad. He pretended to cry. “Am I a silly daddy?”

  The girls giggled, looking at him lovingly. I could see that they adored him, and I didn’t need to wonder why. He was wonderful with all his children.

  “I found an old dolly, Daddy,” said Harper, picking up Dora from next to her to show him. Zane looked shocked when he saw it.

  “Whoa,” he said, reeling back. “That is one scary looking doll. Perfect for Halloween. It was up in the attic?”

  “Yes,” answered Harper, cuddling Dora. “She’s not scary, Daddy. She’s beautiful! And Bianca found an old dress that your great, great...” she frowned, thinking, “… something used to wear.”

  Zane turned to me, his eyebrows raised a little. “Bianca found an old dress?”

  “Yes,” I said, blushing again. What was wrong with me? “Very old. I think it’s Victorian.”

  “You should wear it, Bianca!” Poppy said, looking excited. “Why don’t you and Daddy have a party for Halloween, as well?”

  I laughed. I couldn’t think of a thing to say.

  Zane came to my rescue. “The dress is probably too old to wear,” he said. “And it is enough that you kids are celebrating.” He reached over and planted a kiss on his daughter’s head.

  “Can you dress up too, Daddy?” Harper pleaded. “I really want you to…and Bianca!”

  “Please, please, Daddy,” said Poppy, joining the fray. Even Max looked at his father expectantly.

  Zane threw his hands up in the air, as if to fend them off. “I mightn’t even be here when it happens. I might be away. You guys know I travel a lot.”

  The girls looked so downcast my heart ached, just a little. Max stared down at the floor.

  “Did someone say something about a Halloween party?”

  We all looked around. George, Zane’s personal assistant, was standing there, an interested expression on his face. I had spoken to George a few times, and he was always friendly and warm towards me. I sensed that George might be one of my few allies at Birrimba.

  “Just the kids making plans,” Zane smiled. “They sure run away with ideas when they get them.”

  “Your schedule is clear for October 31st,” said George, a small smile playing over his face. “You could definitely have a Halloween party here. Bianca and I could arrange it all.”

  “Why do I get the impression I am being backed into a corner here?” Zane replied.

  “It would be good to catch up with your neighbors,” George replied. “You haven’t had a party at Birrimba for over a year. Great to know what’s happening in the district from the ground. And it would be a great personal relations event.” I looked at George, admiringly. The man sure was persuasive. I had a feeling George could sell snow to an Eskimo.

  “Please, please, Daddy.” Poppy and Harper were repeating it like a mantra. Even Max was looking at him expectantly.

  The children wanted to see more of their father, that was obvious. Well, why wouldn’t they? They had been tossed back and forth between their parents so much. And they wanted a big party, something exciting. I wasn’t sure what George’s motivation was about pushing for a party, but I wasn’t about to contradict him. All of it meant that the children and I would get to know each other better and have more to work towards.

  So, I entered the fray. “I’ll definitely help George organize the party,” I said, smiling. “You won’t have to do a thing, Zane. We promise.” The children nodded solemnly. So did George.

  “We promise, Daddy,” Harper said, her eyes shining.

  Zane put his hands up in the air, conceding defeat. “If my schedule is clear,” he said, sighing. “Alright. We can have a big party.”

  The girls shouted in excitement, running to their father and kissing him. Max smiled. George and I looked at each other, smiling in satisfaction. “Shall I schedule a party meeting, then?” he said. “Miss Harris? Shall we consult our diaries?”

  I laughed. “Sure, George,” I said. “Let me know when a time suits.”

  He nodded, walking away as Mrs. Price came into the room. She looked at us in confusion.

  “What’s the hullabaloo about?” she asked. Her head was turning with the speed of a ping pong ball from the children, to Zane, to me.

  “Mrs. Price, you need to dust off your witches’ costume,” Zane said, gravely. “We’re having a Halloween party.”

  Mrs. Price’s eyes rolled heavenwards. “We live in Australia!” she muttered, shaking her head. “Will wonders never cease?” She walked off.

  Zane and I looked at each other, trying to stifle a laugh. I think we were thinking the same thing, visualizing Mrs. Price dressed as a witch. It was a pretty funny mental picture.

  His eyes lingered on my face. I felt my breath catch, and my heart begin to race. What on earth was going on?

  I couldn’t remember ever feeling this way about a man. I really couldn’t.

  Zane

  I could hear children’s laughter and the thud of running footsteps drifting through the air. I smiled to myself, finally allowing a pause in my morning work schedule. Emails were done and meetings arranged. I could stop for a moment, maybe get myself a coffee.

  I smiled again as I heard Harper’s little voice raised excitedly. Then there was the sound of the sewing machine. Bianca was already hard at it, obviously. Halloween costumes were being prepared; she had started the day before. I was still a bit gob smacked that there was going to be a big party here.

  I felt like I had to give in, to appease the kids. And Bianca and George, of course. Everyone was so enthusiastic about it, I would have looked like the biggest Scrooge if I had poured cold water on the idea. But I was a bit ambivalent about it, to say the least.

  I stared out the window as I pondered. I hadn’t entertained – or at least, not on such a large scale – since Jo and I had broken up. I hadn’t had the heart, or the time, really. Jo had always loved entertaining, and had often arranged parties here. I could still hear her voice, begging me to allow yet another party. “I have to do something, out here,” she had always said. “I think I might die of boredom, otherwise.”

  It had been her familiar refrain, and one of the reasons we had broken up, eventually. Jo
had hated living out here. She had never understood my passion for Birrimba, or learnt to share it. Well, she was a city girl, through and through. I had met her at a party in Sydney, where she had lived for most of her life. She had lived out here reluctantly. I had always tried to get her to see how wonderful it was: the amazing landscape, the vastness of the land, the history of the homestead. My history. But she had never understood. To her, Birrimba was like a prison, one she would try to escape from more and more as the years progressed.

  “Why do we have to live here?” she had often asked. “You’re a billionaire, for Christ’s sake! You could get a manager to do everything here, and we could live in Sydney or on the Gold Coast. Somewhere civilized!”

  We had drifted apart. She began to spend more time in Sydney, leaving the kids behind. And at one of those parties, she had met Billy Baker. I had found out, of course. Sydney was just a large village, after all, when you knew people. Word had got around. When I knew that Jo was having an affair, that was it, for me. I told her to leave.

  I shook my head, impatiently, as I stared out the window. I had to stop thinking about it. We had both made choices, but now it was time to move on. The kids were the priority. And if a big party and dressing up eased their trauma, even for just a little while, then I would grit my teeth and get on with it. Just try not to visualize Jo here, playing hostess yet again.

  I thought of the new nanny. Bianca. She was really trying to win over the children with this Halloween project. And it was working. The girls were falling in love with her, completely caught up in making costumes and decorations. Even Max was slowly coming around, just a little.

  Bianca. She was a clever and talented woman. She was also so damn sexy it was becoming increasingly harder for me to think of anything else. Especially watching her in her denim shorts and tank tops. I was kind of glad that she didn’t wear a uniform, like Rosa had. I thought of the way she tossed her hair back, and her laugh. I could hear it now, responding to something one of the girls had said.

 

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