She took a deep breath, put the car back in gear and slowly edged forward. Soon the fence posts and green paddocks were a blur as she picked up speed. She forced herself not to think about that difficult time in their lives. Joel had Kate and little Annabel now.
Minutes later she crossed Fish River Bridge before seeing the sign for Eagles Ridge Road, which led to Eagles Ridge Farm. This was familiar territory – the road led to Kate and Joel’s property. She slowed too quickly and her tires skidded in the loose gravel as she negotiated the turn off the asphalt onto the dirt road. Behind her, the taillights of her car illuminated a plume of pale dust following in her wake.
She drove along the gravel road slowly, keeping her eyes peeled for the old red brick church. She came up a small rise and saw it on the left. Beside it was the old abandoned cemetery, the gravestones almost impossible to see in the darkening sky. Opposite was the road she was looking for. Robertson’s Road. She went right.
The next ten kilometers were more winding country roads that drew her further into the unknown. She wasn’t sure she’d ever driven on this road before and if she wasn’t convinced she was still heading in the right direction she would’ve turned around and headed back into town for the night. Trees lined both sides of the road, their smooth trunks ghostly white in the bluish glow of her headlights.
Ten minutes later, two vertical reflective strips caught her attention. She slowed down and spotted a set of wrought iron gates hanging open between bluestone pillars. Nothing indicated she was at Lexton Downs, but it was the first property she’d come to. It was dark now and the moon had hidden herself rather than peeping out from the clouds to help illuminate the land. Emma didn’t want to admit it, but she was almost certain she was lost. She peered through the trees and caught sight of a small light glowing yellow in the distance. As much as it pained her, she’d have to stop and ask for directions. She turned into the driveway and her car vibrated over the cattle grid. She made her way slowly down the long gravel driveway until she came to a fork. She stopped the car. Left or right?
She chose left and thirty seconds later her headlights lit up a tiny house surrounded by neat gardens edged with box hedges. Two lights glowed behind closed blinds and when she got out of the car she breathed in the rich, acrid smell of wood smoke. She smiled. If Lexton Downs was anything like this place, Andrew might be right. She’d be more than happy to move in right now. Her eyes scanned the house for a name and she was rewarded when she saw a small bronze plaque. Bluestone Cottage.
She got out of the car and the cold night air assaulted her, wrapping its fingers around her. A dog barked somewhere and she shivered, wrapping her scarf around her neck. Her feet crunched across the gravel as she made her way to the front door.
At Emma’s hesitant knock, a light was switched on from inside, instantly bathing her in a pale pool of yellow light. Above her head, moths gathered en masse, flapping their wings to get closer to the source of the glow. She hugged her coat a little tighter around her and stomped her feet to keep warm while she waited.
The door opened and Emma breathed in the inviting aroma of a cooking dinner. If she wasn’t mistaken, roast lamb. Her stomach growled involuntarily.
A woman stood in the light, her close-cropped hair the steel-gray color of the bluestone cottage walls. Oversized clothes hung from her skinny frame. She appeared old, but on closer inspection she was only in her early sixties. Something about her was vaguely familiar, but perhaps it was because she reminded Emma of her own mum, with a face more used to smiling than frowning. She gave Emma a friendly smile and raised her eyebrows in question.
“Er, hello. I’m sorry to bother you. But I’m wondering if you can help me. I’m looking for a property called Lexton Downs,” Emma said.
The woman peered myopically at Emma before planting one hand on an angular hip and smiling broadly. “You must be Lleyton’s wife, then. Emma isn’t it?”
Emma frowned. “How did you know that?”
The woman smiled warmly. “You look exactly as he described you. Blonde and skinny like a Barbie doll.”
Emma folded her arms self-consciously across her stomach. A Barbie? That’s how Lleyton labeled her? She tried to rein in her resentment.
“Come on in sweetie,” the woman said kindly, opening the dark green door wide. “Welcome to Lexton Downs.”
Emma’s eyes widened in surprise. “This is Lexton Downs?”
“No, no, no. This is the caretaker’s house – Bluestone Cottage – but don’t go standing there. You’re letting all the warmth out. I’m Judy. Come in and I’ll explain.”
Emma shifted from one foot to the other and rubbed her arms. She wasn’t sure she should go inside this stranger’s house.
“You went left at the fork back there instead of right,” Judy said.
Emma stared at the crumpled piece of paper in her hand with Andrew’s neat handwritten instructions and frowned. “So I’m close?”
“Yes. It’s a couple of minutes’ drive that way.” Judy pointed into the dark blue night sky.
A load lifted off Emma’s shoulders. “Really?” She exhaled. “That’s good. I’ve been driving since eight o’clock this morning and I’m exhausted. If you can point me in the right direction, I’ll head over there now and leave you to your dinner.”
The woman chuckled. “I suggest you come in and stay for the night. There’s nothing there for you. The house is empty. You might as well stay here and you can head out to the house for a look-see in the morning. My Tom can show you the way. Have you eaten?”
Emma’s belly rumbled again, giving her away. She clutched at her stomach and chewed her lip.
Judy laughed and stepped aside, holding out her hand. “Come on then. It’s not getting any warmer standing out here and by the sound of that grumble, you must be starving.”
Ten minutes later Judy seated Emma at a worn pine kitchen table that sat pride of place in the center of a tiny but immaculate kitchen. Judy bustled around the small room and soon pulled a plate of food from the oven and placed it in front of Emma. Steam poured from it and Emma bent and inhaled deeply. As she had correctly assumed from the smells filling the small cottage, it was roast lamb – roast lamb with all the trimmings. Her favorite comfort food.
Since Lleyton’s death, Emma had hardly eaten an entire meal, but now, seeing the laden plate in front of her, her mouth watered. Judy poured rich gravy over her meat and potatoes and watched silently while Emma ate. As she took the last mouthful and wiped her mouth with a paper napkin, there was a loud thump at the back door.
“That’ll be Tom home,” Judy said with a smile. She glanced at the clock on the wall. “He’s later than I expected. He must have had trouble moving the sheep.”
The door opened and Emma felt the cold night breeze wrap around her legs before the door was slammed shut again. She pictured Judy’s husband, standing at the back door pulling off his work boots. After working on the farm all day he’d be starving too.
Judy saw her shiver. “Sometimes we get snow as late as October, but once it gets hot, it’ll be stinking hot ’til the middle of March.”
Emma nodded. She still remembered how cold it could get in Birrangulla in winter.
Judy left the kitchen and shuffled down the hallway to the back door, calling out as she went. “Hello Tom darling. What a long day. What time did Ruby and Chris leave?”
“Around six thirty.” Emma heard the deep and husky sound of a man’s voice. He sounded younger than she’d been expecting.
“Did you get much done today?” Judy asked.
“Heaps. The stables will be ready in the next few days. Ruby can’t wait for the first horses to arrive next week.”
Emma’s ears pricked up at the mention of horses. She’d never ridden, but had always wanted to.
“Horses are a lot of work. I hope we’re making the right decision.”
“It’s fine Mum. These ones won’t be that much trouble. They’ll spend the days eating grass in the paddo
cks and all we have to do is bring them into the stables at night. If there’s any problems we call the vet or the owners.”
“Ruby won’t be able to ride them though, which will be hard for someone so horse-crazy.”
“Trust me, at this stage, she doesn’t care. Being around them will be enough.”
Judy laughed. “And trust me, that will last about two weeks and she’ll be begging you two for a horse.”
“Whose car is that out the front?”
Seconds later a man’s silhouette filled the doorway. Emma looked up and stifled a gasp as shock swelled within her. It only took a split second to realize exactly who Judy’s Tom was. How had she not connected the dots? Emma retrieved her jaw from the ground and attempted to swallow. No wonder Judy had seemed so familiar. Emma’s mum Lorraine and Judy Henderson had gone through radiation and chemotherapy together after their breast cancer.
Tom was Judy’s son.
Emma’s Tom.
Once she remembered to breathe again, Emma stared at him in astonishment. Her heart was beating so hard she was surprised he couldn’t hear it from the other side of the room. Age and time had been kind to him. Exceptionally kind. If possible, he appeared taller – he had to be at least six foot four now – and he’d filled out in all the right places. She exhaled in a rush. The adult version of Tom Henderson was far sexier than the one she remembered in her dreams.
The shadow of a day’s stubble covered Tom’s face and his thick dark hair looked like it had been unfairly trapped under a hat all day. Emma had to curl her fingers into a tight fist to stop from reaching out to give him a hug and tousle his hair. He twirled the well-worn felt hat in his hands and she knew she’d been right. He’d been out working on the farm all day, his Akubra crammed on his head. Striking blue eyes sparkled.
Small lines fanned out from the corners, crinkling as he frowned at her in recognition. “Emma O’Connor?”
How was he going to react to her standing in his house? She didn’t have to wonder for long.
When his fingers closed over hers, the gentleness of his touch surprised her. She hadn’t expected his hands to feel so smooth and soft. She dragged her gaze back up to his face – his determined jaw and slightly crooked nose – she remembered he’d broken it in a school football match. She’d been there that day, her heart in her mouth when he was hit in the face with another player’s elbow. Now, his cheeks were flushed red from the cold, the way they’d looked after he’d run around the footy oval. Years of memories flew on high speed through her mind.
“Hi Tom,” Emma managed to squeak out.
“Wow, Emma. It’s good to see you. You’re all grown up. You look … good.”
“Thanks. Um, so do you.”
She dug her nails into the palms of her hand and forced herself to breathe in and out slowly. This was not who Emma had pictured when Judy had mentioned Tom. She’d imagined a weather-beaten farmer in his sixties, not this handsome man in front of her. How had she forgotten how good-looking he was? No wonder women queued up for a spot on television programs like Farmer Wants a Wife. Men who looked like this gave farming a very good name.
Emma glanced at Tom’s hands but didn’t see a wedding ring. It might not mean anything, but she’d be surprised if someone hadn’t snatched him up. She always knew he’d be an awesome catch.
“What a blast from the past.” He let go of her hand and raked his fingers through his hair, only succeeding in making it further stand on end. “Wow. You look really good,” he repeated. His smile widened, showing all his teeth. Perfectly straight thanks to years of orthodontics. She remembered that about him too. The small dimple on his left cheek played peek-a-boo.
Judy’s voice interrupted the whirling vortex of Emma’s emotions. She was frowning at the two of them. “I take it you already know each other.”
“Of course. Mum, this is Lorraine O’Connor’s daughter. Do you remember? Lorraine had cancer at the same time you did. Emma was a few years behind me at school.”
“Two. I was two years behind you.”
Judy looked as though she was willing her mind to remember, then she smiled widely. “Now I remember. I don’t know why I didn’t see the resemblance when you first arrived. Emma, you look like your mum. If I remember correctly, you two met when Lorraine and I were having treatment.”
Emma smiled. He’d only ever had eyes for Kim, and had never noticed her, but she wasn’t going to mention that.
“Yes, we did. We met at one of those camps for kids with parents with cancer.”
Tom’s face clouded as though he was remembering those dark days when they’d wondered if their mothers would pull through. While Lorraine had beaten her cancer quickly, Emma remembered Judy hadn’t been so lucky, and had spent a lot of time in hospital in Sydney. When Judy was first diagnosed, her husband had left her and she’d raised Tom alone. His older sister Sophie lived in the UK and Judy relied heavily on Tom’s support and love. It was obvious Tom and his mum still had a good relationship.
Tom pulled out a chair and sat. Emma’s heart continued to pound. She felt like she was a teenager again.
Judy placed a reheated meal before him, his plate piled high with meat and potatoes. “Well fancy that,” she said. “What a small world it is. Who’d have thought you two knew each other. I had no idea when Lleyton Chirnside told us he’d bought Lexton Downs for his wife that you were a local girl.”
Tom’s eyes widened in surprise and he dropped his knife. It clattered against the plate. “You married Lleyton Chirnside?”
Emma chewed her lip wondering how to answer that question.
Tom scratched the back of his neck. “We haven’t heard from Lleyton in months.”
Emma’s mouth went dry. Didn’t they know? She licked her lips and took a sip of water. When she swallowed, it felt like there was a golf-ball-sized lump lodged in her throat. Her tongue felt as though someone had glued it to the roof of her mouth. She willed her stomach to settle.
“Are you all right sweetie, you’ve gone very pale,” Judy said.
“Um, perhaps you haven’t heard.”
Tom and Judy stared at her with faces full of questions.
“Lleyton was in a car accident in June,” she said quietly, looking down at her lap and fiddling with an imaginary loose thread. “He, um, he never regained consciousness. He passed away two days later.”
There was a long beat of silence before Judy pulled Emma into a sideways hug. “You poor thing. We had no idea.”
Emma gnawed at her lip again and tasted blood. Tears pricked her eyes and she hurriedly brushed them away. She didn’t want to give either of them the wrong idea she was a grieving widow, but nor did she want them to think she was heartless. She didn’t usually cry nowadays when she talked about Lleyton. It must be because of the long drive and lack of sleep. Exhaustion always played havoc with her emotions.
“I thought Andrew might have called you,” she said. Surely someone would have told them, otherwise who was paying their wages? Maybe Lleyton or Andrew had some sort of trust set up.
Tom stared at her in confusion. “Who’s Andrew?”
“Andrew Richardson. He was Lleyton’s … friend and he’s also our – my – the lawyer.”
Tom shook his head, his face full of sympathy. “No one told us.”
Silence as oppressive as a winter fog descended on the room.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Judy said finally.
“Thank you.”
Tom’s face suddenly darkened. “Does this mean you’ve come to take over Lexton Downs? Or to sell it?”
Something about his tone caught Emma by surprise. Why was he angry with her?
She shook her head. “No. Well, yes. I don’t know. Andrew gave me the keys and the address and said I needed to check it out.” Why was Tom making her so nervous?
“Did Andrew tell you what we do?” Tom asked, pointing to his mum.
“He told me Lleyton had employed a manager.”
“That
would be me.”
“I figured that.”
“I run the farm side of things and Mum’s been overseeing the renovations on the homestead – making sure they’re done according to the National Trust heritage overlay on the property. The plan is to get it ready for accommodation. It’s close to being finished and we hope to have the first guests for the summer holidays, if not earlier. I’ve been working on getting the paddocks ready for the horses. We’ve set the property up to cater for retired racehorses and also for people to bring their own horses when they stay in the homestead. We’re hoping Lexton Downs will become a five-star luxury bed and breakfast.” The passionate words tumbled over each other as though Tom was trying to build a case.
He went on to explain about cows and sheep and paddocks and other things, but none of it made much sense to Emma. She might have grown up in a country town, but she’d lived in a normal suburban house and knew absolutely nothing about farming. The way Tom was talking, the property was enormous and once more she felt the overwhelming weight of Lleyton’s legacy.
“Do you think you’ll sell?” Judy asked, her own face now taut with worry.
Emma shrugged. Were they not listening? “As I said, I have no idea yet. Maybe. I don’t know.”
A deep scowl darkened Tom’s face. He stood abruptly and scraped his barely touched meal into a plastic container and put it in the fridge. He then dropped his plate and cup into the sink. After washing them, he left them on the bench to dry before striding across the small kitchen toward the back door. Lifting his hat from the hook he jammed it down onto his head, adjusting it until it was comfortable. It shaded his eyes and Emma could no longer see his face. What was he thinking? He still seemed angry. Was it something she’d said?
“I need to feed the dogs and lock them up for the night, then I think I’ll head off to bed.”
Emma glanced at her watch. It wasn’t even nine o’clock.
“Sounds like you and I have lots to talk about tomorrow Emma. I assume your husband’s death means all the plans will have to be put on hold.”
Stunned by the sudden coldness in his voice, Emma didn’t know what to say. She shivered slightly under his intense scrutiny. He had given the impression of being pleased to see her when he’d first walked in, but now his features were marred by irritation. This was a side of Tom she didn’t recognize and never knew existed.
Life Support: Escape to the Country Page 8
