by Annie Seaton
“Ned?” Jemima reached out and took his hand, and her fingers tightened on his. “I have a suggestion for you.”
Her lips were set in a straight line, and there was no sign of a smile anymore. Her beautiful, high-arched eyebrows lowered in a frown, and two cute wrinkles appeared between them. “Listen carefully, and don’t answer until you hear me out. Maybe this suggestion can help both of us. I’m looking for a job—but not because I need the money.”
He frowned and opened his mouth, but she put her other hand up.
“Hear me out. Like I said, I had an interview for a teaching position. I’m a qualified teacher, but I didn’t get the job.” She leaned forward in the chair, and he caught a whiff of a subtle but sweet floral perfume. “You need someone to help you with the children, right? So you can work on the farm?”
He nodded.
“If you had more time, would you still need the loan to hire some more workers?”
He looked down at her hand grasping his fingers, and a long-forgotten quiver tingled up his arm. “Yes. I need more than one set of hands to get the property up and running.”
“If I help you out, I’ll be accepted as a local, and I know that will help me get a teaching job here. When they’re at school”—she looked over at Ryan—“I guess the little one is still home?”
“Yes.”
Someone to mind the children while he worked in the farm. That would make such a difference, but Ned lifted his hand away and shook his head.
“I’m sorry, Jemima. I can’t afford a nanny, too. I’d love to help you out but—”
“No. Listen to me. I don’t want to get paid. I don’t need to get paid. And if it helps you get the loan, if I pretend to be your fiancée”—her voice wasn’t as confident now, and Ned had to lean forward to hear what she had to say—“it helps us both out.”
…
Jemima sat back and took a deep breath. Ned was looking at her, and she couldn’t read his expression. Her heart was thudding, and she was wondering what the heck she’d just suggested.
“You’ve lost me. Why would being your…fiancé guarantee me a loan on the spot? And why would you want to come and work for someone with three kids for no pay? Especially if you’re looking for a paid teaching job.” He scratched his head.
Ned was as good looking as any of the male models that she’d worked with over the years. Broad shouldered with a strong face, he had the most gorgeous cheekbones, and his hair was dark, in need of a trim. He looked tired, and she guessed the shadows beneath his eyes were from late nights while he tried to be both mother and father, as well as running a farm and worrying about finances. She didn’t think she’d seen him smile yet, but even with his serious expression, he was a handsome guy. A shimmy of warmth settled in her tummy as he held her gaze, and she pulled a face. “I guess you haven’t read the local paper this week then.”
He shook his head. “No. I was going to buy it on the way home.”
She pushed her chair back and went over to the rack where the café owner provided newspapers and magazines for the customers. The local paper was on top, and she gulped as she looked at the photo that took up three quarters of the front page. It was the last fashion show she’d done at the Sydney Opera House. At least it was a decent photo. She picked it up and took it across to the table and put it in front of Ned.
“My life in one photo and a paragraph. You can read it. I hate talking about myself. But please take it with a grain of salt. It’s exaggerated, and I suspect that report had a bit to do with me not getting the job at the school.”
Ned scanned the paper, and Jemima smiled up at Con as he put their coffee on the table. She pulled out a twenty-dollar note and paid for the coffee and milkshakes as Ned read.
“Wow, New York,” he said when he finally looked up and put the paper on the table. “You’ve got a great job. Or you had a great job. But you said you’ve moved back to the farm?”
“No.” She shook her head. “No, it wasn’t ‘wow,’ I mean. Hard work in an artificial world. But it did leave me comfortable financially.”
“So why did you come back to Spring Downs?”
“Last summer, Pop had a knee operation. Gran called us all home to take a turn on the farm to see if we wanted to keep it in the family.”
“And?”
“We all came home and did our stint, except for Sebastian. He says he’s coming, but I’ll believe it when he actually arrives. Liam and Lucy have settled here to stay, but I’ll let Liam catch you up on that. If I can get a job here—doing what I love—I’ll stay, too. I did my teaching degree while I was working and travelling. And being home near family is important to me.”
“Family is the most important thing there is, and we often don’t realise that until it’s too late.” Ned’s voice was low, and his eyes were bleak as they held hers. Jemima could almost feel his sadness. “We need to talk about this. Are you sure—?”
“Ryan, stop it!” A loud cry came from the back of the shop, and Ryan came running down between the tables.
“Go home, Daddy?” The little boy tugged at Ned’s hand to try to get him to stand up.
“In a little while. What have you been up to, you little larrikin? Tormenting your sisters again?” Ned picked him up onto his knee and held the little boy firm with one hand while he drank his coffee. “Soon, mate.” He smiled at Jemima for the first time, and she was pleased to see the sadness disappear from his expression. It was hard to look away from those soulful, dark eyes, but she forced herself to look down.
“Jemmy, it’s not the right time to talk with these kids around. I’ll certainly think about what you said, but I feel like I’d be taking advantage of you. If I do accept your kind offer, we’d come to some sort of arrangement.”
“Please think about it. I’m serious. And I’d love to help out.” Jemima pulled one of the blank cards from her bag and wrote her mobile number and the Prickle Creek Farm number on it. “When you want to talk some more, give me a call.”
She stood, and Ned lifted Ryan off his lap. “Go and tell your sisters it’s time to go.”
Ned took Jemima’s hand. Butterflies fluttered in her tummy, and she raised her eyes to meet his. He held her gaze for a long moment before he spoke. “I’ll give you a call in a day or two.”
Those butterflies went crazy as he kept hold of her hand until Gwennie pushed between them.
“Come on, Daddy.”
Even though she should be feeling upset about not getting the school job, Jemima couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips as she walked back to the car.
Chapter Six
As Ned drove back out to the farm, an open-top silver sports car overtook them on a long, clear straight, a wild tangle of blond hair flying in the wind as the car zoomed past.
“Look, Daddy.” Gwennie’s voice was a high-pitched squeal. “It’s our new mum.”
“Stop it, Gwennie,” Kelsey said curtly. “You’re being stupid. We haven’t got a new mum. And we don’t need one.”
Ned glanced back at the girls in the rear vision mirror after the Audi TT had surged ahead of them. Kelsey’s face was like thunder, and he swallowed. While Jemima’s offer was generous and would certainly solve a lot of his problems, there was more to consider than bank loans, keeping the washing up to date, and the house in order. He had the kids to think about, too. But if he didn’t consider it, he wouldn’t be able to afford the farm help, and they might not be able to stay.
He was caught between a rock and a hard place. It didn’t matter that Jemmy was a Spring Downs girl. Look at her now. She was an international model, for goodness sake.
But while the three kids were all here in the car and a captive audience—Kelsey was one to run away and hide when she didn’t want to talk about something—it was probably a good time to broach it. He had to.
Softly, softly.
“Did you know that I’ve known Jemmy forever? Her brother and I were best friends. Their farm is just across from ours now.
But they used to live in town, and when I was your age, I used to go there for sleepovers. Jemima was just a little girl then.”
“I forgot you went to school here.” Kelsey sat up, and Ned was pleased to see she looked a bit more interested.
“And you know what else I remember? Jemima used to be a champion rider at pony club.”
Now he had Kelsey’s full interest. He felt a little bit dishonest playing the horse card, but if it was going to help…
“In Spring Downs?” she asked.
“Yes, Liam said she was very good.”
“Does she still have horses?”
“I don’t know. You’ll have to ask her. I’ll ask her to come over one afternoon. She’s offered to give us a bit of a hand. Or better still, we could go over and visit their farm. I’d like to catch up with Liam.” Ned glanced in the mirror again. Suspicion warred with interest on Kelsey’s face.
“Maybe we could. Do you think she probably does have a horse? Would she let me ride it?”
“Probably.” In for a penny, in for a pound. “If we get Jemmy to come over and help with your school work and babysit Ryan, I can do more work through the day. What would you think about that?”
Gwennie squealed, and Ned winced as her excited screams echoed around the car.
“That would be awesome, awesome sauce, Daddy.”
“Keep it quieter, Gwennie.”
“Yeah, put a lid on it, Gwennie. Daddy needs to think,” Kelsey added.
Ned smothered a smile when Kelsey nodded. She was a smart kid, and she knew that her chances of getting her own horse depended on him making a success of the farm.
“Sounds like a plan,” she said.
Ned was thoughtful as he turned onto the dirt road that led to their farms. One big advantage was that Prickle Creek Farm was only a kilometre or so from their front gate, so Jemmy could come over with little notice if he did accept her offer.
All in all, maybe it hadn’t been such a bad day.
…
After he waved the girls off on the school bus the next morning, Ned called Jemima’s mobile.
“Hi, it’s Ned. Are you free to come over this afternoon?”
“I am. What time?” she replied, and Ned smiled.
“About two.”
“Okay, sounds good. See you then.”
That would give them time to talk before the girls got home from school. Ned had lain awake most of the night doing the PMIs. That had been a Cath thing. She’d been so logical. Whenever they’d had a decision to make, she’d pulled out a large piece of paper and drawn three columns.
“PMI time,” she’d say, her brown eyes twinkling. The feeling that hit Ned as he thought about it was as real as a kick in the stomach.
Pluses, minuses, and interestings of Jemima’s suggestion. What were they? The one he thought of last night had gone when he’d woken up this morning. He’d sit down before she came and make a list.
But as usual, Ned’s plans for the day went awry. As soon as he waved the girls off on the bus—pleased to see they had already made some friends—he began to make his list and had started on the pluses when he remembered he had to get the washing on before it was too late to hang it out. The girls’ school clothes from yesterday were still in the linen basket; they only had a couple of the blue school shirts each. When he went to put the first load of washing on, the washing machine groaned and came to a stop. There was no water coming into it, and the power cut when it tried to start the wash cycle with no water in the drum. Further investigation revealed that there was no water anywhere in the house, and he grabbed Ryan and drove down to the pump at the bore. Three hours later, they were still there. Luckily, he’d thought to throw a box of cars and a couple of apples in the ute when they’d left the house.
“Daddy? I’m starving.” Ryan’s plaintive cry had Ned looking at his watch, and he blinked when he realised it was way past lunchtime. His phone had rung nonstop as he’d tried to work, and as he’d worried about the calls, he’d not focused on the task at hand. It was almost two o’clock. Jemmy would be arriving soon, and the house was in chaos. If he shut the doors, she wouldn’t be able to see the unmade beds and most of the mess. He didn’t want to frighten her off before they’d even discussed her idea.
“Sorry, mate. Just about fixed now. You’ve been a good helper.” Despite the fact that he’d achieved nothing he’d planned to do today, he couldn’t help the grin when he looked at his boy. Just as well he’d finally fixed the pump, because Ryan had been playing in the red dirt. He’d need a bath—and food—when they got back to the house.
As they drove towards the back gate of the house paddock, a puff of dust rising above the front gate indicated Jemima’s arrival. Ned got out of the car, opened the gate to the house yard, drove through, and then got out again and closed it. It would be so much easier when Ryan was big enough to help him around the place.
Don’t wish their lives away, Ned.
Cath’s voice echoed through his head. He hadn’t coped well with the kids when they were babies: the nappy changing, the night crying, and the sicking up. Cath had gently chastised him once when he’d said he couldn’t wait until Kelsey was a toddler. Don’t wish their lives away, darling.
But when Ryan had been a baby, Cath had been in the hospital on life support, and then her injuries had taken her away from them. Ryan didn’t remember her at all. He’d been too little.
Now Ned closed his eyes and clenched his jaw.
What am I going to do? What is the best thing to do for the kids?
…
Jemima pulled up at the front of the McCormack farmhouse. She’d never been down to the homestead before, but she’d driven past the gate many times. The McCormack farm was one of the first places on the Come-by-Chance road, and the house looked as though it was still the original. The gently sloping tin roof overhung the wide verandah in a gentle bullnose curve. The wrought iron lace that filled the corner was rusty and full of cobwebs. An old house, neglected, but full of promise. The driveway circled a centre garden edged with rocks, but the rose bushes were withered and brown, with only a few faded blooms hanging sadly from a couple of bushes at one end. Jemima loved being in a garden. Both she and Lucy had inherited the love-of-flowers gene from Gran, but lucky Lucy had also inherited Gran’s cooking skills, which were sadly lacking from Jemima’s repertoire.
She parked the car and took another good look at the house. The timber on the veranda floor was worn, and the paint was peeling on the eaves, too. Ned had his work cut out for him here, as well as out on the farm. She’d noticed that a lot of the fence posts were rotten, and the wire was hanging loose on a couple of the paddocks that fronted the main road.
Jemima opened the door and got out of the car slowly—Liam had taken the farm ute down to the back dam and was working on the pipes, and she’d had to bring her Audi. She felt self-conscious driving such an ostentatious sports car in the district. All it did was reinforce that stupid article in the local paper. When she got home, she was going to list it on Gumtree and buy a more suitable farm vehicle. There was no need to add to the impression that she was some glamorous blow-in. She was a local again. She’d buy a small SUV more suitable for out here in the bush.
There was a dusty farm ute parked at the side of the house, so it looked as though Ned was there. Jemima swallowed and straightened her T-shirt. She had resisted her automatic instinct to dress up to come and meet with Ned. Casual and work-like jeans and T-shirt would help her convince him that this was a good idea. For both of them. Plus, she didn’t want it to look like she was trying to come onto him. She’d pushed away that warm feeling that had stayed with her after she’d driven away. It was the first time she’d felt that tug of attraction to a man for a long while. There were more important reasons to help out than the fact that he was a fine-looking man.
She’d given more thought to her idea, and the more she’d thought about it, the more attractive it was.
One: It would fill in her
days.
Two: It would give Angie and Liam more privacy if she stayed over at Ned’s place.
Three: It would show that she was staying and part of the town and would prove to the school that she was a lot more than a retired fashion model.
Four and the reason that she knew was making her want this so much: Someone would need her. Jemima was a nurturer. That was the main motivation for her wanting to be a school teacher. Liam had Angie, Lucy had Garth and little James, Gran and Pop had each other, Sebastian—well she didn’t know about him, but he always seemed busy and happy.
She had no one. Jemima was lonely. Helping Ned would fill the void that she’d hoped the teaching job would have filled. This would be the same but on a smaller scale.
As far as Ned went, she was sure he would welcome her with open arms. It would give him more time to work on the farm, it would—with some discussion—help him with his loan, and she could look after his little boy, do the house chores for him, do the laundry… And maybe he’d let her help out in that poor garden.
Five: There had been a spark between them, and she knew she would enjoy spending time in Ned’s company. He was a good man.
A perfect solution for everyone. Surely, Ned had come to that conclusion, too.
So when Jemima tapped on the door and a still serious-faced Ned answered the door, she was taken aback.
“Ssh,” he said without the glimmer of a smile. “Ryan’s asleep.” He gestured to the couch, and Jemima drew a surprised breath. The little boy was sound asleep and covered in red dust.
“He went to sleep in the ute on the way back from the bore, and I didn’t have the heart to wake him. He hasn’t even had his lunch yet.”
Her fingers itched to get a face washer and clean the little boy’s face, but she fought it. Jemima kept her head high and ignored the chaos in the house as she walked through the living room. Or she tried to. It was hard to ignore the clothes and toys on the floor and the dirty dishes on every surface. Living alone for so long had made her obsessive about being tidy, and she was forever picking up after Liam at Gran’s house and chastising him for being a slob.
