“Did you have a nice time, my darling?”
“Yes,” Adam shot back with a smirk.
“I didn’t mean you.”
“No? I’m devastated.” His grin clearly told her that he wasn’t.
She lowered her eyes so he wouldn’t catch her staring at him. His lips were full, sensuous. His tanned skin had the texture of smooth flawless leather and she felt a shocking, inexplicable urge to reach out and touch him. The thought of what it would feel like sent a warm sensation whirling around in the pit of her stomach. She took in a couple of desperate, shuddering breaths.
“Adam took me mustering.”
“That’s nice.”
Adam wore a blue work shirt left open to expose his tanned throat. Firm fitting brown moleskins stretched across his muscular thighs every time he moved. His knee length dusty black boots were of the finest leather and sported a raised pattern around the top. His usual wide brimmed hat was pulled firmly down over his forehead.
“Young fool.” He turned his attention to David. “What's he doing on that roof?”
“I tried to stop him.”
“He's just as stubborn and willful as you are.”
“Thank you for collecting Jamie, Mr. Munro.”
“My pleasure.” He gave a mocking grin and touched the brim of his hat. “Miss Lindsay.”
“Would you care to come inside for some tea?” Courtesy dictated she at least make the offer.
“No, thank you, I must be off.”
Jamie left Tommy's side. “Don't you want some cake, Adam? Did you make cake, Tommy?”
“I'm in a hurry, another time, hmm.” He squatted on his haunches bringing himself down to the child's level. “Another time, all right?” A brown finger tilted the quivering chin. “Stockmen don't cry if they can't get their own way.”
“I’m not crying.”
White teeth flashed in a tanned face. “I know you aren't.”
“Sure you don't want any tea?”
“Positive.” Adam swung away without another word.
She watched him mount with that slow, easy grace she couldn’t help but admire. He rode away sitting proud and tall in the saddle, a man as remote and untamed as the frontier land in which he lived.
Over their evening meal Jamie chattered about his adventures with Adam. They had gone out mustering cattle, had even shared lunch of muttonchops and damper with some of the stockmen.
“Adam's getting me a stock whip. A special one just my size, so I can go mustering again.”
He sounded so excited she hated dampening such enthusiasm, and her worried gaze met David's across the table. “Adam has no right promising him all those things.”
“Look, we don't know he isn't going to keep his word,” David said.
For some reason, Tommy felt apprehensive at the idea of Adam returning.
Chapter Six
Christmas day arrived—roasting hot. Jamie woke early to inspect his stocking. They gave him what they could afford, sweets, a new ball, a picture book and a slate for school.
“I’ll look a dandy in this.” David slipped on the brocade waistcoat she had made and strutted up and down the parlor.
Jamie laughed at his antics. “Did you make the handkerchief box for Tommy? I want to learn how to do it.”
“I’ll teach you when you’re a little older,” David promised.
After breakfast they got ready for church. Tommy dressed in a white muslin gown with pink roses forming a delicate pattern. The sleeves and neckline had flounces trimmed with black ribbon, and she wore a matching bonnet.
They pulled up outside the bluestone Presbyterian Church. It stood on a rise, giving it a commanding view of the countryside. By the numerous carriages and buggies already in the churchyard, the service appeared well attended.
Late again. David dithered like an old woman sometimes. The congregation sang the opening hymn as they made their way to an empty pew near the back. The sun's rays reflecting on a beautiful stain glassed window threw colored reflections on the vaulted ceiling.
Tommy enjoyed the simple service and traditional hymns and Christmas carols. Of the people she recognized in the congregation, only a few nodded or smiled. They received this cold treatment because of their ongoing battle with Adam Munro. Interlopers, strangers who dared defy the mighty squatter, were sent to Coventry as punishment for their sins.
At the conclusion of the service, they rose to leave. As they waited for those at the front to move on, something made her glance up and she bore the full brunt of a devastating smile from Adam. Shock at seeing the very man she had been thinking about brought a guilty rush of heat to her cheeks. Thank goodness he was too far away to notice her turmoil.
Why would a man like him bother attending church? Then she spied Sophia resplendent in cream alpaca trimmed with crisscross bands of green. Here to see the minister about their coming nuptials? The thought caused a sudden, excruciating pain in the region of her heart.
At the door they shook hands with the minister who introduced his wife and daughter. Fiona Lawson looked about nineteen, a slim, dainty young woman, even shorter than Tommy’s five feet two inches. She had huge, fawn-like hazel eyes, and wore her auburn hair pulled back into a neat chignon.
Tommy gave her brother a poke in the back to bring him out of his trance. “She wants her hand back, too.”
David turned brick-red, instantly dropping the dainty hand he’d been holding. “Sorry.” He limped off.
“He's not, you know, Miss Lawson.” Tommy’s eyes met those of the other girl; understanding flashed between the two of them. “Merry Christmas, I'm sure we'll be seeing you again.”
They both smiled at each other. Cupid's arrow had gone straight through David's heart. Still laughing, she hurried to catch up with him.
In her haste she bumped into someone. “Sorry.”
“Well, really. Can't you look where you're going?” Sophia tossed her head and stared down her nose at Tommy.
“Still as impetuous as ever, Miss Lindsay?” Adam quirked an enquiring eyebrow.
“I've apologized; for a lady that should be enough.” She used her, as David would say, “lady of the manor” voice. Sophia turned red with rage and almost stamped her foot, while Adam stood with the suspicion of a smile hovering on his lips. Did he think she cared about him attending church with Sophia?
“Would you mind?” Tommy's words dripped out, sweet as honey. “You're blocking my way.”
“Merry Christmas, Adam.” Jamie darted up to them.
“Merry Christmas yourself.” Adam’s wide, genuinely pleased smile, revealed a dimple in his chin. “Did you find some nice presents in your stocking?”
Adam leaned over to speak with her little brother, putting his face up close to Jamie’s.
“Come on.” Sophia tugged at his arm.
“I got a picture book, chalk and a new slate.”
Sophia snorted. “That wasn't much; of course you—”
“Sophia.” Adam's voice cut in, sharp as a razor, reducing her to silence.
“Is my stock whip made yet?” Jamie continued blithely, unaware of the animosity simmering between the two women.
“Yes, I'll have it sent over soon.”
“Couldn't you bring it over? Tommy made a Christmas cake, plum pudding and everything. We're having roast chicken tonight because it's too hot at lunch time. You can come too.” He turned his back on Sophia, clearly indicating the invitation did not include her. A wave of jealous fury passed across the young woman’s face, as Adam kept giving Jamie his full attention.
“Tell Adam he can come,” Jamie pleaded.
David coming over saved her from replying. “Hurry up, you two. A man feels like an idiot hanging around here. Munro, Miss Bothroyd. Merry Christmas.” He touched his hat.
“Why don't you have another chat with Fiona Lawson?” Tommy teased him.
“Belt up, Thomasina.”
She smiled at his embarrassment. Sophia stood with a bored expression
on her face. Adam glanced speculatively at David then Fiona, who stood next to her parents.
“You idiot.” David gave her a none-too-gentle shove to increase her pace as they headed towards the buggy. “How could you, with Munro standing there?”
She stifled another laugh behind her hand, trying not to enjoy his embarrassed discomfort too much. “I'm sorry, I forgot about him for a moment.”
“Did you see the way he stared at me, then her? He tumbled straight away to what you were implying.” He helped her into the buggy, but gave her the distinct impression he would have liked to shove her out the other side.
“Come along, Jamie, hurry up!” David yelled.
She knew he loved their little brother, yet he had no patience with him, whereas, much as she hated to admit it, Adam did.
They journeyed home in silence. The dry countryside shimmered in the distant haze, as if the heat was being sucked up from the center of the earth itself. Even the birds hung listless in the trees now, waiting for something to happen.
They arrived at the homestead. A wisp of smoke, drifting up from the kitchen chimney, hung on the air for a moment before disappearing into the haze.
“Maybe it's a good thing we don't have much livestock,” David mused. “There's little feed about. Munro inadvertently did us a favor when he impounded those few steers that wandered on to his land. There wouldn't be enough grass around here to keep them and the horses going for long.”
“There seemed quite a lot of grass when we first arrived, even if it was a bit dry looking,” she said.
“Yes, strange how it disappeared so quick. I heard a couple of chaps talking outside the church; they said it's the worst drought in living memory. Some of the squatters are driving their cattle and sheep up into the mountains hoping to find feed. I don't envy Munro at the moment. He’s got eight thousand head of sheep and heaven alone knows how many cattle.”
“Wealthy men like him can afford to hire people to take them to other pastures.” She tossed her head. “I feel sorry for the small farmers who stand to lose everything if the bank forecloses. If they leave their properties to take their livestock on to the roads, who runs their place while they're gone? Many wives wouldn't be up to it.”
When they pulled up in the front yard, Tommy climbed down without help. Jamie dived out and rushed off to let Touser off the chain.
She went inside to change out of her church clothes, and slipped into a light cotton gown faded from frequent washing. Before their guests arrived she would change again.
For lunch they shared cold mutton with some of yesterday’s left over scones. Tommy couldn’t help admiring their Christmas tree every time she walked past. It had been one of several fir trees planted by Uncle Henry in the far corner of their property. Jamie’s paper chain decorations gave the tree plenty of color, but the beautiful angel doll adorning the top of the tree caused her eyes to moisten. It brought back vivid memories of a white Christmas and her parents. If she closed her eyes she could almost hear the soft patter of snow on the roof tops, smell the roasting chestnuts and taste the mulled wine.
Through the open widow the red fireball sun, burning like a furnace onto a parched and dying landscape, brought sudden waves of homesickness flooding over her. Oh, for gray English skies and glistening snow-covered fields. The sounds of jingling sleigh bells, laughing children, rugged up against the cold, pelting each other with snowballs; numerous parties and balls in the weeks leading up to Christmas.
Jamie's excited chatter put a stop to her yearning. He loved it out here. He had grown taller, filled out a little even, and his skin glowed with good health. David gained in strength with each passing day, his limp nowhere near as noticeable as before. Since the race his depression had lifted also. To be honest, they all thrived. Deep down, she knew something important was missing from her life, but dared not dwell on exactly what. Would Adam be spending Christmas with the Bothroyds?
When Mary and Jim arrived she would put the vegetables on. The pudding, still in its cloth, hung suspended from a hook on the back verandah, and her Christmas cake, as always, nothing short of a culinary masterpiece.
Later, sitting in the parlor waiting for Jim and Mary, Tommy heard the sound of horse's hooves beating a tattoo on the rock-hard earth outside. Who could that be?
She let David go to the door. Jamie had wandered off into his bedroom to play with some of his presents. She stood up when she heard the murmur of male voices. Thank goodness she had changed into her blue muslin gown with the pretty white lace trim. It gave her the confidence to face their visitor—none other than Adam Munro.
“Good afternoon, Miss Lindsay.” He walked into the parlor.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Munro. Anything we can do for you?”
“No. Except sell me this place. Where's the boy?”
“In his room playing with his presents.”
“I've brought the stock whip over for him.” He stood with his feet apart, tapping the handle of the whip on a shiny black boot. Tight fitting dark trousers, stretched across his thighs. A cambric shirt with the sleeves rolled up showed off his tanned, muscular arms. His dark hair just managed to curl onto his collar, and his side-whiskers were trimmed. What long thick eyelashes he had. She dragged her gaze away from his handsome face and focused it on the Christmas tree. Yes, the little English angel looked exquisite.
“Would you care to sit down?” David invited.
“No, just get the boy.”
“Could I get you some tea?” She couldn’t believe how husky and tremulous her voice sounded.
“No, thank you, Miss Lindsay.”
Jamie skipped into the parlor. “Adam.”
“Here’s your very own stock whip.”
“Thank you. Look, I've got a real stock whip, not just a pretend one.” Jamie cradled it in his hands, his eyes wide.
“I suppose you want me to smoke a cigar, so you can crack it out of my mouth?” David grinned.
“I'll teach you how to use it, so you can come out mustering with me again. Would you like that?” Adam ruffled Jamie’s hair.
“Yes, please. Are you going to have some of Tommy's Christmas cake?”
“I'm on my way out.”
“You must have time for a drink before you go,” David insisted. “After all, it is Christmas.”
“All right, thank you; black tea with one sugar.”
David motioned him to a chair, but he did not sit down until Tommy left the room.
She made the tea, using her Wedgewood tea service. The Christmas cake was moist and fruity just as she hoped it would be. Cutting several pieces, she arranged them on a leaf-shaped dish. After setting everything up on a carved silver tray, she returned to the parlor.
“I'm going to send my sheep away. I sent one of my men over the Great Divide and he said there's plenty of grass there.” For a frontier man Adam spoke well. His pleasant sounding voice held just the slightest hint of a drawl.
“Have you lost much stock, Mr. Munro?” She set the tray down on the table.
“A few; fortunately I had plenty of feed put aside.”
“And you have plenty of land, forty thousand acres, isn't it?”
“I'd have more if you sold me this.” He compressed his lips.
“Come on, pour the tea. It's Christmas day. Peace and goodwill, all that kind of thing.” There was an impatient edge to David’s voice.
“Sorry. I’m baiting you on purpose.” She gave a breathy laugh. “You seem to bring out the worst side of my nature, Mr. Munro.”
Adam gave her a long, speculative look.
“I wonder why that is?” David gave a sudden grin. “They say love and hate are closely aligned.”
Embarrassed heat swamped her face at his comment. Pay back for the earlier incident at the church.
Jamie stared first at Tommy then Adam. “Tommy doesn't hate you. Do you?” He turned beseeching eyes towards her.
“No.” She gave a strained laugh. David was so close to the truth she
broke out in a cold sweat. She almost felt the moisture running between her breasts.
“Have a slice of Christmas cake, Mr. Munro.” She plastered a smile on her face, holding the plate out in such a way their hands could not possibly touch.
He hesitated for a moment before accepting. “Thank you, Miss Lindsay.” He spoke with studied politeness, his smile as insincere as hers.
Jamie chattered away, oblivious to the strained atmosphere. When the squatter drained his cup and stood up to go, she could have screamed with relief.
“Good afternoon, Miss Lindsay.” He inclined his head before following David and Jamie out of the room.
****
Their guests arrived late in the afternoon. Poor Mary looked hot and exhausted as Jim helped her onto the verandah.
“Merry Christmas.” Tommy embraced Mary. “Come inside out of the heat; it’s hot enough to fry an egg.”
The roast chicken and vegetables were cooked to perfection, hot plum pudding slathered with cream, finished off the meal.
“I couldn’t eat another thing.” David leaned back in his chair and patted his stomach.
Tommy sewed some nightgowns for the coming baby and Mary went into raptures over them. Even without much money to spend they enjoyed themselves.
After they left, David said, “Jim’s helping drive some cattle up into the high country in the next couple of weeks. He’ll be gone for ten days or more, but they need the money. I promised him you'd be a frequent visitor.”
“It's the least I can do after all the help they’ve given us. It’s a shame he has to go away with the birth so close.”
“He should be home well before she's delivered. Must be hard on women bearing children in such isolation, makes me glad I'm a man.”
What would a child of Adam’s be like? Tommy inwardly raged at herself for thinking such ridiculous thoughts.
Chapter Seven
A few days after Christmas, Tommy took an early morning ride. Jamie and David had ridden over to a clearing sale, leaving her to her own devices. For the sake of comfort and modesty when riding astride, she wore breeches under her skirt.
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