‘It’s something, isn’t it?’
Something? Majestic, eternal, imposing were the words that came to mind.
The land in front of them dropped away in a series of dramatic rock shelves. The rock was baked red but deep cream and yellow veins striped through it. Water glinted in the base of the canyon. Its other side rose in a sheer cliff. Three-quarters of the way up, it curved inwards as if eroded by thousands of years of wind and sand. It looked like a giant curling wave waiting to break on a stretch of deserted beach.
The blue sky and the red rock formed a contrast that sang to her soul, though she couldn’t have said why. On the other side of the canyon, the land was dotted with saltbush and the dry brown grass that the cattle roamed far and wide to graze upon. From beneath the brim of her hat, she couldn’t see any cattle, but she did see a mob of kangaroo. There had to be at least twenty of them, most of them sprawled out in whatever shade they could find. A big buck stared across at them for a moment and then went back to grazing.
‘It’s beautiful.’ The words didn’t seem enough to capture the eternal grandeur of the landscape, but it was all she had to offer.
He nodded. ‘In times of flood the water roars through here. There’s a place to ford further downriver, which is handy when we’re mustering.’
‘Does it flood often?’ It’d be hard being stranded out here so far from civilisation in a flood.
‘There’ve been two decent ones in living memory, but the homestead is built on higher ground. We’ve never had to evacuate.’
Still...it took a special kind of person to live out here, battling drought and flood and bushfire. Cade had a grit that she admired. A grit she was determined to cultivate for herself.
‘I owe you an apology.’
She barely heard him. ‘Oh!’ She pointed. Her mouth opened and closed. ‘Emus,’ she gasped out.
He chuckled. The sound was almost enough to make her drag her eyes from the five giant birds that streaked away until they were lost in the distance. She’d never seen an emu in the wild before. It shouldn’t have astonished her, she supposed, but...
Lord, what a greenhorn she must seem. She turned to Cade to find him staring at her, an odd light in his eyes. Then she recalled his words. She moistened her lips. ‘An apology?’
‘Yeah.’
Although he wore an Akubra, he squinted in the light. Or was it that he just didn’t want to meet her eye?
His gaze speared hers as if she’d asked that out loud. ‘I’ve been acting like a jerk and I want to apologise.’
‘Um...’ She blinked. ‘Okay.’
‘The thing is...’ He went back to squinting. ‘I haven’t been with a woman since Fran left. I haven’t wanted to be with a woman.’
She swallowed. ‘You’ve had your mind on other things. I mean, Fran’s leaving must’ve been an enormous shock to begin with, and then there was Ella and Holly’s welfare to consider. On top of all that, you’re running a cattle station. It’s not like you’ve had a lot of spare time on your hands, Cade.’
She thought back to the way he’d kissed her, to the latent power of his body, to his impressive...um...virility. Sure, their clothes had stayed on, but she’d been just about as closely pressed up against him as a body could get. She’d felt the full might of his masculinity. The memory made her mouth dry and an ache start up between her legs.
Actually, when she thought about it, Cade’s abstinence was surprising. Very surprising. But it was also understandable.
His lips twisted. ‘The thing is...that all changed when you showed up.’
‘Liar.’ She adjusted her hat. She suspected he was trying to pump up her confidence. ‘There wasn’t a hint of anything between us when I first climbed out of the Cessna.’
‘Maybe not, but then you smiled at me.’
She had?
‘I introduced you to Scarlett. You smiled...and I wanted you then and there. No preliminaries. No warning. It knocked me for six.’ He scowled. ‘I haven’t stopped wanting you since. Kissing you only made it worse.’
Her jaw dropped.
‘Look, I’m not trying to excuse my behaviour. I shouldn’t have taken my frustration out on you yesterday evening. I shouldn’t have pressured you to act against your better judgement. I acted like a horny teenager and I’m sorry, but I thought if you knew why I’d lost my head so completely you mightn’t look on me with such a harsh eye.’
The embarrassed half-smile, half-grimace reminded her of Ella when she’d been caught out in some minor misdemeanour. It made her want to smile, but she bit the impulse back. She needed to check something before she could give into it. ‘So we’re back on the same page as far as...as far as sex is concerned?’
‘Yep.’ He nodded.
The ache between her legs intensified. She forced herself to smile. ‘Okay, apology accepted.’
‘Nicola?’
He forestalled her before she could turn Scarlett around and head back towards the homestead.
‘I’m hoping that we can be friends. Real friends.’
Three weeks ago that word would’ve induced a shudder. Now?
She leaned across and held out her hand. He shook it with that firm grip that made her want to swoon. ‘You have yourself a deal.’
Beneath the brim of his hat, his eyes shone out blue for a moment. ‘Thank you.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘NIC?’
‘Yes, honey?’
It was Christmas Eve, dinner was long over and all the children had quietened down after a rowdy game of Trouble. Ella was sitting next to Nicola on one of the sofas, her head resting against Nicola’s shoulder. The soft weight of the child and her absolute trust pierced straight into the centre of Nicola, making her wish...
She pulled in a breath and pushed the thought away. She would not allow it to mar the mood of the evening. Contentment stretched through the living room, along with expectation and hope. The atmosphere as unique to Christmas as the scent of cinnamon and mince pies.
She glanced down when Ella didn’t continue with her question. ‘What do you want to know, pumpkin?’
Ella chewed her lip and then climbed right into Nicola’s lap. ‘What if Santa doesn’t come?’
She suppressed a smile. ‘Why wouldn’t he come?’
She shared a glance with Cade. He wore a pair of grey cargo shorts and a blue shirt that matched his eyes exactly. Holly had fallen asleep and he cradled her in his arms. The contrast between the big, tanned man—the broad shoulders and the long, strong legs—and the small child with her delicate pink-white skin and fine blonde hair, made her breath hitch and the pulse in her throat quicken. Everything about him ravished her senses. She forced her eyes back to Ella before he could see the desire that flashed in their depths.
‘Well...’ Ella drew out, ‘Waminda is a very, very, very long way from Brisbane.’ To her childish mind, Brisbane was the centre of the universe. ‘Maybe,’ she continued, ‘Santa doesn’t know we’re here.’
‘But we sent him a letter, remember?’
‘Do you think he got it?’
‘I’m sure of it.’
The blue eyes, so like her father’s, brightened. Ella’s questions, her hope, reminded Nicola of the Christmases of her own childhood—the loneliness and inevitable disappointment. She understood Ella’s fear. ‘And don’t forget,’ she whispered to the child, ‘Santa is magic.’
‘So he’ll come?’
‘Uh-huh.’
<
br /> ‘You promise?’
‘I promise.’
Her assurances seem to satisfy Ella, who snuggled into Nicola all the more securely. Cade sent Nicola such a warm smile of thanks it curled her toes.
‘Nic?’
What this time? She glanced down. ‘Yes?’
‘Do you think Mummy will come tomorrow?’
Every adult in the room—Cade, Harry, Verity, Dee and her husband, Keith, who’d arrived earlier in the day—all stiffened. Nicola did her best to keep her body relaxed. Ella would unconsciously pick up on any tension she radiated and it would unsettle and upset her.
Was this—seeing her mother—what Ella had pinned all her Christmas hopes on? The greyness of Cade’s skin, the haggard expression on his face, made her heart burn. Whatever anyone else in the room thought, she couldn’t lie to Ella. If seeing her mother was the child’s dearest wish, it would be hard getting her through tomorrow, but it wouldn’t be as bad as giving her hope that would go unfulfilled.
She caressed the hair back from Ella’s brow. ‘Pumpkin, I haven’t spoken to your mummy, but I don’t think she’ll be able to make it tomorrow.’
‘The day after?’
Nicola’s chest cramped. How could any woman turn her back on such a beautiful, loving child? Fran must have a heart of stone. She tried to keep her breathing steady. ‘We can keep our fingers crossed, but I really don’t know. I think she’d let us know if she was coming for a visit.’
She watched as Ella digested her words. ‘Will you be here?’
‘I promise.’ She crossed her heart. ‘And we’re all going to have such fun tomorrow. I mean, you have your daddy and Holly here, and your grandma, Auntie Dee and Uncle Keith, not to mention Simon and Jamie, and Harry and me. That’s pretty lucky, don’t you think?’
Ella thought about that for a moment and then she smiled. ‘Yes,’ she pronounced. ‘And you really, truly think Santa will come?’
‘I really, truly do.’
Will you sing a Christmas carol?’ Ella whispered.
Ella’s favourite was Silent Night, so Nicola started to sing it. One by one, the other adults joined in. Before the first verse was over, Cade rose to put Holly down. By the end of the song, Keith and Dee had taken a twin apiece and Cade returned to carefully lift Ella from Nicola’s arms.
‘I’ll be fine,’ he murmured when she made to rise too.
She couldn’t read his eyes, but she subsided into her seat, sensing he wanted to be alone with his daughter, to stare down at her while she slept and to give thanks for her.
Harry pushed out of her chair. ‘I’m off to bed.’
‘Nicola—’ Verity rose ‘—I suspect we’ve seen the last of Dee and Keith for the night.’
Nicola grinned. The couple’s evident delight at seeing each other after ten days apart had been all too plain.
‘I also suspect that it will be a big day tomorrow.’
‘I expect you’re right on both counts.’
‘So I’m going to retire early.’
‘Sleep well.’
Verity turned in the doorway. ‘I’m glad you’re spending Christmas with us this year.’
She couldn’t mistake the older woman’s sincerity, and she had to swallow down an unexpected lump. ‘Thank you. I’m glad too.’
When Cade returned, he glanced around and blinked.
She laughed. ‘It seems the consensus was for turning in early.’
He collapsed on the sofa beside her. ‘Fair enough.’
She stared at him for a moment. ‘You okay?’
‘Sure, I...’
‘Ella’s question about her mum was a humdinger. It seemed to hit you all for six.’
He shook his head. ‘It took me off guard. God knows why. I should’ve expected it, I suppose, but she stopped asking about Fran months ago.’
It took an effort of will not to reach out and touch him. Every atom of her being begged her to, her mouth drying at the memory of the lean hard feel of him. Her fingers curled, her blood quickened, her lips parted to drag in a ragged breath.
He turned, his eyes flashing. ‘Why the hell couldn’t you just lie to her?’ His hands clenched. ‘Why couldn’t you have left her with a tiny shard of hope?’
She flinched at his vehemence...and the direction her thoughts had taken. Her heart pounded against her ribcage. She dragged in a breath and tried to gather her wits. ‘Do you...do you think there is any hope?’ Had she read that wrong? A heavy weight settled in the pit of Nicola’s stomach. Would Fran come back and claim her family?
‘No!’ He stabbed a finger at her. ‘But that’s not the point. Ella is just a child, a little girl. It was cruel to...’
Maybe it was his own hope Cade was trying to keep alive, not Ella’s. A chill travelled up her backbone. Her chest throbbed. She couldn’t speak.
His eyes blazed. ‘You could have invented something, fibbed a little. She would’ve forgotten all about it tomorrow in the Christmas excitement.’
Her chin shot up. ‘I will not lie to your daughter—not today, not tomorrow, not ever! I know what it’s like to ache for something on Christmas Day. It’s a day of miracles, right?’ Her hands fisted. ‘And I remember the crushing disappointment that came at day’s end when I realised my wish wasn’t going to come true. I will not put Ella through that. That would be cruel.’
His mouth opened and closed, and then he sank back against the sofa cushions and he dragged a hand down his face, swore softly. Neither of them spoke for a while. The Christmas tree twinkled benignly in the corner. ‘What did you hope for?’ he finally asked.
She’d expected him to continue arguing with her. His unexpected question took her back to a time of vulnerability and disappointment. It took her a moment before she could speak. ‘Usually I just hoped that the spirit of the day would infect my parents and that they’d unbend enough to...to play with me.’
He stared and she found herself continuing. ‘I didn’t lack for presents; it was just...I was always told that I was luckier than most little girls and to go play on my own.’ She shrugged. ‘One year I wished with all my might for a rowdy Christmas dinner with lots of crackers to pop and the reading out of corny jokes followed by the singing of Christmas carols.’
That hadn’t happened either.
She sensed the exact moment the fight left Cade’s body. She bit back a sigh. ‘Look, I’m not telling you this to make you feel sorry for me. It’s just that, as a child, I knew what it was like to hope for the impossible and not get it—to not even realise it was impossible in the first place. Telling Ella that her mother might show up is only setting her up for unnecessary heartbreak because, believe me, come tomorrow she won’t have forgotten. She’d spend the day waiting for it to happen, waiting for her mother to walk through the door. Now, hopefully, she can focus on all the other good bits of the day instead. She might get a bit sad about her mum, but there’s absolutely nothing you can do about that, Cade. No matter how much you might want to. Besides, Ella is entitled to her sadness on that count.’
He blinked as if he hadn’t considered that before. He opened his mouth, closed it, and then dragged a hand down his face. ‘I’m still not sure I agree with the way you handled it, but I appreciate you telling me the reason why.’
At least his anger had abated, if not his worry. She pulled in a breath. ‘I think if we lie to Ella we’re betraying her trust. I think if we fib to her—even with good intentions—it will lessen her faith in us.’
His jaw dropped open.
‘I think fibbing to her will do more harm than good. Her faith in you, Cade, is the biggest gift you can give her. I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t want to do anything that might damage that.’
‘Hell, no!’ He swallowed. ‘I hadn’t considered it from that angle.’
He didn’t say anything for several long moments, but she sensed that beneath the silence his mind raced. He suddenly muttered an oath and swung to face her more fully. ‘I wanted to protect Ella from more pain, but lying to her would be unforgivable. You’re right. My word should be something she can trust and always rely on—not something to doubt and question.’
Nicola let out a breath.
‘I’m sorry I rounded on you. You saw it all much clearer than I did.’
Her heart unclenched a fraction, and then it clenched up tighter than before. She gripped her hands together. ‘Are you sure it’s not your own hope you’re trying to keep alive rather than Ella’s?’
His head came up. ‘Why the hell would I want to do that?’
‘Because if Fran did show up, maybe it’d mean you weren’t a failure. And that, in turn, would help ease your guilt.’
And maybe because you still love her? But she left that unsaid. She didn’t have the heart for it.
‘The thing is,’ she continued, ‘the breakdown of your marriage doesn’t make you a failure. You did everything you could to save it. As far as I can see, you have absolutely nothing to be guilty about.’
He stared at her as if he didn’t know what to say and it suddenly hit her that it was Christmas Eve and he’d specifically asked her for Christmas spirit and cheer. She made herself smile. ‘You’re a wonderful father, Cade.’ She tapped her watch. ‘And look, it’s almost Christmas. All you can do is focus on having a lovely day tomorrow and making it special and exciting for Ella and Holly.’ She nudged him with her shoulder. ‘Christmas spirit, remember?’
Slowly he nodded and his shoulders went back. ‘Just concentrate on the stuff I can control, right?’
The Nanny Who Saved Christmas Page 12
