‘But you really liked him.’
‘Not in the way you’re thinking.’ She’d never been a very good liar. ‘This new job is just that, Gran—a job.’
She wasn’t like her mother, starting a new relationship with each new man she met, but she couldn’t explain that to her grandmother without implying criticism of her mum, Gran’s daughter.
At least her terms of employment were crystal clear in her own mind.
Jess was pleased about that.
* * *
Travelling down the track to Reece’s homestead in broad daylight was very different from the other panicky trip through a rainy night. Today Jess had clear views of rolling grassy paddocks dotted with Brahman cattle, as well as the white egrets that so often accompanied them. She could see the dark lines of trees that marked the creek’s winding progress, and there were red rocky ridges, long sloping plains and the smudge of blue hills in the distance.
It all felt like an adventure and she took in the views with fresh interest. Reece’s ute had a dual cabin, so she was sitting in the back seat beside her dozing daughter, while Reece’s father, Michael, was in the front, also napping, with his head lolling sideways.
In the very rear of the truck, along with Jess’s gear, they carried a brand-new white cot and a matching white chest of drawers, as well as a high chair, a mosquito net and several packages of baby clothes.
‘It gets cold out at Warringa in the winter,’ Reece had warned as he piled extra sleep suits and several pairs of fluffy socks into the trolley.
Jess had protested, but he’d insisted on buying these things. ‘Rosie has to be warm enough.’ He’d also insisted on buying a lovely mobile to hang above the cot—animals made of brightly coloured felt: a purple and pink owl, a black and white zebra with a fiery red mane, a golden and brown lion and a bright pink pig. Jess was grateful for these lovely things, but she hoped she could eventually pay Reece for them. She was determined to hang on to her independence and she didn’t want to be beholden.
As they approached the homestead, however, her excitement mounted. Outbuildings appeared—tractor sheds, stables, a windmill. Jess found herself sitting straighter, peering ahead, keen for another glimpse of the homestead.
They rounded a final bend and there was the house, a sprawling, low-set, timber Queenslander, painted white, with a faded red iron roof that was almost completely shaded by two massive old Moreton Bay fig trees.
Jess remembered the other time she’d arrived here—peering at the house through the rain, and seeing the lights shining on the veranda, then the semi-dark sanctuary of Reece’s bedroom. Today, sheltered from the blazing sun, this house looked a little shabbier perhaps—certainly in need of new coats of paint—but unexpectedly welcoming just the same. In fact, to Jess, who’d spent her entire life living in cramped rented flats, arriving at Warringa felt like a dream come true. Dangerously so.
But she’d been planning to make a new start with Alan in the outback, and now she was doing it alone. This was her chance to get ahead and she had to get it right.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘YOU’LL sleep in my room again tonight.’
Jess stared at Reece in puzzlement and prayed that she wasn’t blushing.
‘Just for one night,’ he elaborated. ‘The other rooms aren’t quite ready for you and Rosie.’
‘But—but—’ Far out. She should be able to handle this simple situation without stammering, but the day’s close proximity to Reece had apparently downsized her brain.
‘But?’ A dark eyebrow lifted as his mildly amused gaze seared her. ‘Are you worried about where I plan to sleep?’
‘Not really.’ It was a lie. Where he planned to sleep was exactly what she needed to know.
‘I’ll swag down on the veranda. Same as last time.’
Of course. She should have known that. Cringe. She hadn’t really thought that Reece was angling for them to sleep together. He showed no sign that he found her attractive, and that was totally understandable after the way they met when she was as wet as a drowned rat and groaning in labour.
But should her employer be sleeping on the floor? It seemed wrong.
‘Don’t look so shocked, Jess.’ His eyes flashed again. ‘I’ve spent a good part of my life sleeping in swags out in the bush.’
‘Yes, yes, of course you have.’
‘Anyway,’ he went on smoothly. ‘Before we sort the bedrooms, let me show you the kitchen. We can put the kettle on.’
With Rosie chirping happily in her arms, she followed Reece’s easy stride across a covered walkway lined with hanging baskets of rather bedraggled ferns to a smaller wooden building, which proved to be the kitchen.
‘The separate kitchen is a hangover from the old days,’ Reece explained as he filled a kettle and lit the gas. ‘Everyone had wood stoves back then, and the theory was that if the kitchen caught fire, the rest of the house could still be saved.’
‘It makes very good sense.’ Jess looked about her. She wouldn’t mind working in a separate domain. The room was rather plain, with no feminine decorative touches, but it was light and airy, with a bank of deep casement windows to catch the breezes. There was also a huge stove with two ovens, and masses of bench space, as well as a scrubbed pine table and chairs for everyday dining.
Once Rosie’s high chair was in place with a few toys scattered about and various ingredients dotted about the work surfaces, it would look very homely. Jess could hardly wait to start work.
‘And the pantry’s through here,’ Reece said.
Wide-eyed, she followed him into another room lined with shelves stacked with enough provisions to stock a small grocery store.
‘Oh, wow!’ she exclaimed with a huge grin. ‘I. Am. In. Heaven.’
Reece gave a shocked laugh. ‘You’re easy to please.’
‘Every cook dreams of having storage space like this.’
‘You haven’t seen the cold room yet.’
She gaped at him. ‘There’s a cold room too?’
‘Right here.’ He pushed open a heavy door.
‘Oh, my God.’
‘I know it’s a bit confronting to meet half a beast hanging from a hook.’
But Jess had no qualms at all about the butcher-shop scenario. ‘It’s amazing. It’s fabulous, Reece.’ She was grinning. ‘I think I’m in love.’
He switched his gaze to a far corner and scowled.
‘With your kitchen setup,’ she added hastily, cheeks burning.
‘The baby will get cold if we stay in here too long,’ he said, but he didn’t meet her gaze as he opened the door for her.
* * *
Reece’s father sat at the dining table, waiting for his dinner, a napkin already tucked into his shirt as he watched Jess mix Rosie’s formula.
‘What’s wrong with mother’s milk?’ he asked, his jaw at a belligerent angle.
Jess winced, instantly defensive. The old man might have had a hard life, but he had no idea how hard it had been for her in those early weeks. She’d been so scared trying to care for her tiny newborn daughter on her own, and at the same time grappling with the shock of losing Alan while acquiring his mountainous debts.
She took a deep breath before she answered. ‘I’m afraid I was too stressed after my husband died, and I just wasn’t able to breastfeed.’
As Michael shook his head, unimpressed, Reece turned from the stove—he’d insisted on fixing dinner on this first night. ‘Give the girl a break, Dad. What would you know about babies?’
Jess could have hugged him. Michael glared at them both, but after a while his face lost its sneer and he gave a sheepish shrug. ‘Well...maybe you’ll have better luck next time.’
‘Oh, I very much doubt there’ll be a next time.’
‘Rubbish. You’re bound to have a tribe of ankle biters, isn’t she, Reece?’
Reece didn’t grace this question with an answer, but continued stirring savoury mince at the stove, adding extra Worcestershire sauce. Jess
was used to working with men in the kitchen, but she found it incredible that Reece managed to look even more intensely masculine and outdoorsy while he was working at the stove. She was beginning to suspect that his muscles and low-riding jeans were an indoor health hazard.
Her breathing would certainly be a whole lot steadier when this kitchen was her sole territory.
* * *
It was shortly after midnight when Rosie started crying.
Reece heard her wailing as he lay in his swag on the veranda, and then he heard the creak of a floorboard as Jess stepped out of bed. He heard Jess’s soft whispers as she tried to hush the baby, and he pictured her lifting Rosie onto her shoulder, kissing the baby’s soft pink cheek and jogging her lightly up and down, trying to rock her back to sleep.
Problem was, he’d spent far too much time today watching Jess with Rosie. He’d been entranced by the way her face softened whenever she looked at her baby, by the way her voice grew gentle and loving. He could have spent ages watching the way she cuddled Rosie close, showering her with soft, sweet kisses. It touched him deeply to witness such tender intimacy and selfless love...
No doubt a shrink would connect his newfound fixation with buried feelings of abandonment by his own mother.
Yeah...
Whatever...
When Rosie’s crying continued, he left the swag and tiptoed through the house to make sure his father’s bedroom door was closed, and for good measure, he closed the doors at the ends of the hallway as well.
He thought about knocking on Jess’s door and offering to heat up a bottle. Imagined encountering Jess in her nightgown and thought better of it.
By the time he was back in his swag, lying with his hands stacked under his head and staring out at the starry sky, the house was silent again. He heard the board creak as Jess climbed back into bed.
So that was that...time for sleep. Only one problem. When he closed his eyes, he was plagued by images of Jess in her nightgown, of the soft see-through fabric and moonlight outlining her slim, pale curves...fantasies of her leaving her room and coming to him...
Damn. It was too late now to admit he’d made a major mistake when he’d invited her here—into his home, his life.
* * *
The next morning Jess cooked breakfast.
‘You might be all right,’ Michael told her with an unsmiling nod as he made short work of bacon and eggs and hot buttered toast. ‘Don’t get too fancy, mind you. Just serve up good plain tucker and you won’t hear any complaints from me.’
Reece rolled his eyes and Jess suppressed a smile.
‘Well, I’m afraid you won’t be able to have bacon and eggs every day,’ she warned Michael.
‘I’ve given Jess the list of foods your doctor recommends,’ added Reece.
Michael scowled. ‘Bloody doctors.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much. There are ways and means,’ Jess said airily. Already, she was getting used to Michael’s grumbles. She could see they were more a habit than genuine gripes and she was actually looking forward to the challenge of winning him around with tasty, healthy offerings.
Once the breakfast dishes were done and Rosie was down for a morning nap, Reece offered to show her the rooms where she and Rosie would sleep. ‘I’m afraid they haven’t been used for quite a while.’
In fact they were in a part of the house that was locked up and Reece had to wrestle with old-fashioned heavy keys to open a door at the end of the passage that led to them. This done, he hurried forward and opened shutters and windows, letting sunlight stream in to reveal a vast space as well as plenty of dust and cobwebs.
‘Hmm...it’s worse than I feared,’ he said, grimacing.
‘But the room’s huge.’ Jess didn’t care about the mess. It would be gone after a day’s hard work. More importantly, this bedroom was as large as the entire living area in her previous flat and it had wonderfully high ceilings that made it feel even more luxurious and spacious. Against one wall stood an old-fashioned iron and brass double bed with a mattress swathed in dust sheets, and along another wall stood a matching pair of old-fashioned wardrobes with long oval mirrors on the doors.
Reece pushed open white-shuttered doors. ‘And this area needs a thorough clean too, but I thought it might be suitable for Rosie.’
Jess followed him to find a section of veranda that had been closed in with floor-to-ceiling shutters. It was a perfect spot for catching a cooling breeze, or blocking out the sun, and it was also fully fly-screened, which meant she wouldn’t have to worry about flies or mosquitoes or nasty creepy-crawlies.
She grinned with delight. ‘It’s perfect. Actually, it’s better than perfect. It’s like something out of my deepest fantasy.’
‘And the bathroom’s this way,’ Reece said, leading the way into an old-fashioned bathroom with black and white tiles on the floor, a separate shower cubicle and a claw-foot bath. Here, sunlight made green and rose window panes glow despite their grime, and there was also a deep cream washbasin set into a marble-topped silky oak dresser.
By now, Jess was practically turning inside out with excitement. ‘I can’t believe this, Reece. I love it all. Love, love, love it.’
She skipped towards him. There was only one thing to do when she was this excited—give the man a great big hug of gratitude. But as she flung out her arms, she heard the sharp intake of his breath, and she stiffened, snatched her hands back just in time.
Yikes. What was I thinking? Reece was her boss and she was a recently bereaved widow. There were boundaries to be kept. Reece had invited her here because he felt sorry for her, not to start something. No wonder he was looking grim and tense, almost angry.
‘This is very exciting,’ she said instead, and she felt a pang as she wondered what Alan would think if he could see her now. ‘When everything’s cleaned, these rooms will be gorgeous—like something out of a magazine. I can’t wait to get started.’ Then she laughed. ‘And that’s saying something. I’m not usually fond of cleaning.’
‘I’ll help you.’
‘Oh, no, you mustn’t.’ She wouldn’t dream of asking for Reece’s help. ‘You’re far too busy. You have all your cattle to look after.’
His eyes glinted as he sent her a wry smile. ‘The cattle can wait for one more day, and the two of us will knock this over in half the time.’
‘But you—’
‘I’ll show you where the vacuum cleaner is,’ he said, ignoring her protest. ‘And then I’ll collect mops and buckets.’
* * *
Cleaning walls and windows didn’t normally rank high in Reece’s favourite activities, but, funnily enough, working with Jess changed his perspective.
He told himself her enthusiasm was catching, and in a way this was true. It was rewarding to work together and to see the honey-gold timber floorboards emerge from beneath layers of grey dust, or to see white walls and window sills looking fresh and cobweb-free.
But it was equally rewarding to look up every so often to catch Jess’s smile...or to see the colour of her eyes...the deep green of a tree-shaded creek.
He didn’t mind catching her in profile either. Seeing the curving sweep of her dark lashes was a minor miracle...or the soft curving jut of her breasts...or the tempting inches of bare, pale skin that appeared when her T-shirt lifted.
The thing was...he’d sensed an echoing interest from Jess. A certain look, a breathless awareness...small, innocent signals that drove him wild.
Too many times he was tempted to do something about it. To step closer, certain he’d expire if he didn’t let her know that he was desperate to touch her...to kiss her.
But such a move would stuff their plans completely.
This was her first full day here. How hard was it to remember he’d offered her a job, not a relationship?
The poor woman was still mourning her husband. How could he have deluded himself into thinking she was interested?
Proximity was his problem. He wasn’t used to having a y
oung woman so close at hand, but that would soon be solved once he started mustering.
* * *
Grimy and tired, but exultant, Jess stood back to admire the results of their hard work. ‘These are lovely rooms.’
‘It’ll be good to see them being used again.’
‘Have they been shut up for a long time?’
‘We’ve had no use for them,’ Reece said, answering her question obliquely. ‘Too much housework.’
Jess wondered if his mother had lived in these rooms, but she didn’t like to ask, knowing from experience that mothers could be complicated, hurtful creatures. But thinking about Reece as a little boy made her heart yearn in a soft, achy way, which was so not how she wanted to feel around him.
Especially not after the day she’d just spent, surreptitiously sneaking peeks at his behind and his muscles and his handsome jaw line—and generally suffering from lust meltdown.
She was ashamed of herself. She was here to earn and to save and to do a good job of caring for Reece’s home and his father. She would be grateful when he started on his outdoor work—mustering cattle, or mending fences, or whatever it was that cattlemen did.
* * *
Unfortunately...once Reece was distracted by outdoor work, Jess’s gratitude was short-lived.
He rose early, just before dawn, so Jess, as cook, rose early too, but there wasn’t much conversation as Reece downed a hasty breakfast, grabbed a sandwich and an apple for his saddlebag and disappeared on horseback with two blue-speckled cattle dogs trotting behind him.
Jess knew he was joined on the muster by a couple of men from a neighbouring property, who then returned to their place each night, but even with their help Reece didn’t get back to the homestead till after sundown, which meant he was gone for more than twelve hours.
And she missed him.
Which was crazy considering that her life now surpassed her wildest dreams. The cooking and the housework tasks were dead easy compared with working in a busy restaurant. Her accommodation was divine and it was still a daily miracle that she didn’t have to pay rent. On top of that, she loved being a full-time, stay-at-home mum with Rosie, and her little girl was really happy and thriving, having at last settled into a good routine.
The Cattleman's Special Delivery Page 6
