His Outback Nanny (Prickle Creek)

by Annie Seaton

  Ned shook his head. “There’s no need to be sorry. I don’t think you’ve had much fun lately. It was good to see you…er…letting go.” He chuckled. “I particularly liked the orange microphone.”

  “Well, I didn’t need it for the casserole. I burned the meat before I even added the vegetables.” She swept a hand over the countertop, gesturing to neatly chopped piles of carrot, potato, and onion. “I’m sorry, Ned. It appears I can chop, but cooking is not one of my strengths. Anyway, what are you doing in so early? Did you forget your smoko?”

  “No, I needed a phone number, so I thought I’d come in and have a cuppa with you. Is that okay?”

  “Of course it’s okay. I’ll boil the jug. And there’s some of Lucy’s fruit cake in the pantry.”

  “No pineapple in it?” he asked with a grin.

  “No, but I asked her that, too.” Jemima smiled at him, and that devilish ping of desire took off again.

  No. Be strong.

  He watched as she stood, crossed to the sink, and filled the jug. This time he let his gaze linger on her long bare legs.

  Shit. The way his thoughts were heading, this would be the last time he’d come to the house when Ryan was at preschool. The direction of his thoughts was entirely inappropriate.

  By the time Jemmy turned around, he was sitting at the table and had pulled his phone out, trying to focus on something else. He needed to get these bloody thoughts out of his head.

  Not again. And they would be decidedly unwanted from her point of view, he was sure. But Ned certainly wasn’t going to stand up in his tight moleskins. Not the way things currently were.

  He frowned over the phone. “Jem, could you pass me that card with the phone number that’s on the fridge, please?”

  Jemima lifted the fridge magnet that was holding the card in place and walked across to him. Her hair brushed his face, and a waft of her musky body lotion surrounded him as she leaned forward and put the card on the table next to his phone.

  Double shit. Get your mind back on the farm.

  “Tea or coffee?”

  “Um. Coffee please.” He frowned as he stared at the business card on the table.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, fine.” He lifted his head and kept his eyes on her face. “In fact, things are really great. The back paddocks are looking great, and the cattle are healthy. The wheat’s come up, and it’s looking green already.” He looked around and gestured to the house. “You’ve done an amazing job getting the house in order, and the kids are happy. So more than fine. Yes. Good. Yes. We’re on track. Well on track.”

  “I’m happy to hear that. I’ll get the cake.” She looked at him curiously as she poured the hot water onto the instant coffee and then headed for the pantry again.

  Oh God. This time he didn’t look at her legs and kept his eyes on the phone.

  “Do you mind if I clean up the kitchen while you have your coffee? Or do you want company?” After she put the cake tin on the table, she stood beside the counter top and blew on her cup of coffee. “I’m going to have to thaw some more meat and start from scratch.”

  The last thing Ned wanted was Jemmy walking around while he was sitting there trying to get his feelings under control. It was like being an adolescent again. But then, how many farmers had to deal with a world famous model in a pair of shorts and tight T-shirt, dancing in their kitchen?

  “No. Sit down with me. I could do with the company.” Ned lifted his gaze to meet hers. “We haven’t talked much lately. Not since—”

  Jemmy frowned as she pulled out the chair and put her cup on the table next to the cake. “No, you’ve been a bit distant.”

  He held her stare. “I’m sorry. I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

  “I’ll make something different for dinner. I thought I’d nailed it with those last couple of lessons, but that damn stove beats me every time.” She changed the subject, and he wondered why she didn’t want to talk about…about them. Although the last thing that he wanted Jemmy to know was that his feelings for her were becoming more than they should be. Much more than a business agreement. It was only the close proximity and the fact that they’d slept together a couple of weeks ago. That was it.

  “I’ve got a better idea,” he said. “I have to go into town later. Let’s pack a change of clothes for the kids and go to the RSL for dinner. It’s about time you had a break from the kitchen—and the stove.” He couldn’t help himself. He reached over and let himself touch her hand and ignored the little nerve endings that fired in his fingers and sent warmth running up his arm. “Ryan’s sure to be filthy when we pick him up, and the girls won’t want to go out in their school uniforms. We could have dinner as soon as the club opens the bistro and still be home before it gets too cold. I’ll light the fire before we go, and the house will be warm when we get home.” The more he talked, the less he thought about her standing so close to him.

  Jemima shrugged. “It’s up to you. I don’t mind cooking.”

  He caught her eye and chuckled. “Really?”

  She laughed with him. “Okay. You caught me out. I don’t hate it, but I’m hopeless. How come I can plan a whole lesson plan, write a five thousand word essay, and get top marks, but I can’t even follow a simple recipe?”

  “I guess you can’t be good at everything. Cath was a great cook, but the house and garden were always a mess.” As the words left his tongue, Ned pulled himself up. It was the first time he’d ever talked about Cath, and it had come out naturally and without that usual spike of grief. It was good to mention Cath without the awkwardness and sadness. He probed it like a tongue touches gently on a sore tooth.

  “I always looked after the washing and the vacuuming because she worked, too, so when it ended up being just me and the kids, I coped a bit easier than some others would have.” No heavy feeling in his chest for a change and he smiled. “You’ve done an amazing job of the front garden and the veggie garden. I don’t think I’ve told you how much I appreciate the extras you’ve done around here.”

  There was a long, loaded silence. She, too, was obviously remembering the “extra” of a few weeks ago, and Ned’s thoughts sprang straight back to that glorious night.

  “Um.” Jemima cleared her throat. “What did she do?”

  “Cath was in travel. And when Ryan was born, a part-time job came up at the agency in the shopping centre not far from our house. She loved getting out of the house, because she wasn’t exactly what you’d call a domestic goddess.”

  “That makes me feel a bit better,” Jemima said ruefully. “Domestic goddess, I’ll never be.”

  Ned’s eyes lingered. Maybe not the domestic, but to him, Jemima looked like a goddess, no matter what she was wearing or doing.

  He lowered his eyes and stared down at the coffee cup. “So don’t ever worry that you’re letting us down. You’re doing great, and I appreciate it so much. You’ve been so good with the kids. And the house.” He needed to bring the conversation, and his thoughts, back to the agreement. It was altogether too intimate in the kitchen together. Especially with her in those shorts and snug T-shirt.

  “And besides, I didn’t ask you to help out for your cooking skills. I got the loan, and things are underway. The loan’s coming down much quicker that I’d hoped. Cattle prices are really good.”

  He drained his cup and stood. It was safe now. “I’ve got to go to my office and call the supplier. I might need the spreadsheet.”

  He crossed to the door and turned around. Jemima had a strange look on her face. “So if you can pack a change of clothes for the kids and get yourself glammed up, we’ll head into town about two. Does that suit?”

  She nodded, but her voice was quiet. “That’s fine.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  While she ate her sandwich for lunch, Jemima stood on the verandah and stared over the wheat paddocks. The second batch of meat was browning on the stove. She’d pulled another lot of steak from the freezer—at least she knew the right
way to thaw it now. It was a shame to waste the chopped vegetables, so she was going to put a casserole in the slow cooker ready for tomorrow night.

  Jemima smiled. She had a better handle on this cooking now. She’d always wondered what a slow cooker was, and now she knew how to use one. Ned had gone back out to the paddocks after he made his call and hadn’t come back in for his lunch, so she assumed he’d substituted his smoko for a lunch break.

  She was pleased to have the space. Every time she thought about him seeing her dancing and singing in the kitchen this morning, prickly heat ran down her back. The music and the silly dancing had eased her frustration when she’d burned the meat.

  And not only frustration with my cooking skills. All she thought about was Ned; all she wanted to do was be held by him. Get close to him and inhale that gorgeous manly smell of his. Feel the whipcord strength of his muscles on his arms. Lean against that washboard stomach and run her fingers…

  Enough.

  But ever since the night they’d given in and had sex, he’d kept her at a distance. She even swore that he’d added another pillow to that stupid pillow fence between them. Until he’d talked to her today—and surprisingly mentioned his wife—they’d barely had a conversation apart from anything to do with the children or a simple “please pass the salt.” So she needed to forget all her stupid fantasies.

  But when she’d turned around and met Ned’s laughing eyes, she would swear she’d seen a spark of desire.

  It had been so hard to look away as he’d stared. Frustration had slammed through her. She had to remember Ned thought of her as a business solution. And like everyone else, he obviously didn’t see past her looks or these stupid shorts she’d put on this morning.

  Maybe she should go to town and go on a date. Jemima grabbed the railing and shook her head.

  Stupid. For a minute, she’d forgotten that as far as everyone was concerned, she was a married woman and stepmother. She couldn’t go on a date, although a smile crept over her face, imagining what the Sykes’ gossip mill would do if she went out on the town. A giggle bubbled up in her chest—about the only chance to “go out on the town” in Spring Downs was to go to the ballroom dancing lessons at the RSL. Lucy had enticed her there not long after she’d arrived back home. They’d left quickly. They’d been the only ones in the hall under eighty. And besides, any night out and any hint of gossip about her would be the end of a chance to get a job at the local school.

  As she turned back to the house, Jemima wondered what it would be like to dance with Ned. She’d never know. More and more, she was coming to the decision that when her year was up, she’d move back to Sydney to get a teaching job. Or maybe to a larger regional school—that would be better.

  As far away from Ned as she could get.

  Get your mind back in the kitchen. Forget Ned McCormack. She was going to have to get used to not being here soon. Jemima sniffed.

  What was that burning smell?

  God, the recipe had said to coat the meat in flour and then brown it, so she assumed it would need a high heat. As she raced back in, the smoke alarm set up its strident screech, and she picked up the tea towel and flicked it until it stopped.

  She grabbed the pan and lifted the second ruined lot of meat from the stove.

  Tears pricked at her eyes as she tipped the second blackened mess into the pig bucket and then soaked the pan.

  Jemima sat at the table and put her head on her folded arms. For a minute, she wondered if she’d be better off back in the modelling world.

  …

  Ned whistled to the dogs and secured them in their run before he walked across to the house. He’d left the ute down at the paddock because it was still loaded with irrigation pipes he’d need tomorrow. He was setting up a watering system in the paddock behind the house, ready to plant the next wheat. There were some cattle weights to be entered into this spreadsheet before he had his shower and they went into town. He was looking forward to going out to the club for dinner.

  Be honest.

  He was looking forward to coming into the house early and spending some more time with Jemima without the kids around. Taking off his boots, he threw them on the verandah and opened the screen door—he’d oiled it, and the usual squeak was gone. Padding on the tiled floor, his socks made no noise. The music had stopped, but the acrid burning smell lingered. He frowned as he reached the kitchen; Jemima was sitting at the table with her head on her arms on the tabletop.

  He hurried across, and she lifted her head as he crouched beside her.

  “Jemmy, what’s wrong?”

  Her cheeks were streaked with tears, and as she stared at him, her cheeks reddened.

  “Oh, nothing, just another burned lot of meat. At the rate I’m going, you’ll need to take out another loan to pay for the meat I’ve ruined.” She sat up straight. “It’s okay. Ignore me. I’m just having a female hormonal moment. You’ll need to get used to them with two daughters growing up.” She smiled as she pushed the chair back. “I’ll get you a sandwich.”

  He reached out and took her arm before she could move away. “No, it’s fine. I’m not hungry.”

  Not for food, anyway. All he wanted to do was hold her. He was a sucker for tears. Ned let go of her arm and looked at the mess on the sink. “How about I help you clean up this mess?”

  “There’s no need. You’ve got stuff to do.”

  “No, I’ll help. Where’s the pot scrubber?”

  Ned washed and scrubbed pots, while Jemima wiped the dishes and put them away. It was a cosy domestic scene, and he was conscious that they were home alone.

  Keep your mind on the task at hand.

  “Ned, do you mind if I ask you something?” Jemima’s voice was soft.

  “No. What’s up?”

  “How did Cath die?” She hurried on. “I wouldn’t have asked, but you mentioned her easily before. You rarely speak of her, but the kids often do when you’re not around, and I didn’t want to say the wrong thing. Was she sick?”

  Ned put the pot scrubber on the side of the sink and turned to look at her. Jemmy was biting her lip, a surefire sign that she was nervous. He’d gotten to know that sign very well. He stared at her lips. Her face was beautiful, even though her eyes were a little bit puffy from her tears.

  He reached up and ran his thumb gently beneath her eye where the traces of a tear remained. She drew a quick breath.

  “No. She wasn’t sick. She was on her way to work. I was working from home and looking after Ryan and Gwennie. A guy went through a stop sign and straight into the side of her car.” Ned kept his tone even. It was the first time, for a long time, he’d talked about it. “Cath was in hospital on life support for a long time before we…before she died.”

  Another tear plopped onto his finger, and he caught it. “That’s what wiped me out financially. I can talk about it now. And I really do need to start talking about Cath naturally to the kids.”

  Jemima sniffed and reached for a tissue. “I think that would be good.”

  “Don’t cry.”

  “It’s not that.” She shook her head. “My mum died in a car accident when I was in my teens. And her two sisters, too. Lucy’s mum and Seb’s mum. I know what an impact that had on our family, but we had each other.” Another sniff. “It breaks my heart that you did it pretty much alone with the kids.”

  “My parents and Cath’s were great, but all I wanted was to be alone. Coming out here has been so much better than I thought. We’ve moved on a lot faster than I expected.”

  Another tear trickled down Jemmy’s cheek, and Ned held his arms out. “A hug would help us both now, I think.” He held her close and murmured into her hair. “I’m sorry to hear about your family tragedy. We get so tied up in our own grief, it’s easy to forget that others have had hard times, too.”

  “We’re fine now. Unlike your kids, Liam and I didn’t have a dad to turn to. Dad died when Liam and I were both small.” Jemima’s breath was warm against his cheek.


  Ned couldn’t help himself. He moved his head closer so her lips were against his cheek. With a sigh, she pressed them against his skin. Ned moved away and lifted his hand. He held her chin gently in his fingers and looked into her blue eyes.

  “You are so beautiful, Jemmy. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

  He knew it was okay when she lifted her lips to his.

  …

  Jemima stood beneath the shower an hour later. They’d left the kitchen spick and span and headed for the bedroom. She’d laughed as Ned had chucked the pillows on the floor and pulled her down beside him. There’d been no more words until they’d realised they only had half an hour to shower and get into town before school finished.

  As they drove into town, she tried to block Ned’s words from her head. All he’d said was that she was beautiful. Her dreams of being held by him—and more, much more—had come true. But it was only because of her looks.

  How many times had that happened in her life? Sometimes she wished she’d been born a plain Jane. Life would be a lot easier.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” His words intruded into her musing.

  Jemima forced a smile to her face. “I was just wondering how you liked driving my car instead of the old ute.”

  “It’s very nice.”

  “Maybe I should sell it to you when I leave. The kids like it.”

  “Out of my budget,” he said with a laugh.

  “Ned, I’ve been thinking about when I leave. We need to talk about it. I’ve had an idea.”

  “Yes?” It was hard to tell what he was thinking. Jemima glanced across at him, but he was staring at the road ahead. They were almost into town.

  “What do you think if I go away a bit now and then? I can say I’ve got things to do in Sydney. The kids will get used to me not being there, and it won’t be so hard when I go for good in a few months.”

  “No. I don’t think I could cope with that. Even though Billy’s here, I’m still out on the farm a lot.” This time, his words were clipped. “And it would cause talk that would get back to the kids.”

  “You don’t think me going at the end of the year will cause more talk and do them even more harm? We really didn’t think this through, Ned.” The anger was welcome, and Jemima stopped feeling sorry for herself. “And me not cuddling and being affectionate with the kids? Kelsey almost broke my heart at pony club last week. She came running up for a hug when she did well. When I stepped back and patted her shoulder, the look on her face almost broke my heart.”