My Estranged Lover (Middlemarch Shifters Book 5)

by Shelley Munro

  “No prob. See you later.” Dara herded the children out of the kitchen. “I’ll deliver them back at dinner time.”

  Caroline started the pies and with those in the oven, she moved on to chopping vegetables for a pot of soup.

  The phone rang, and she wiped her hands on a nearby hand towel. “Hello?”

  “It’s Cam. Maria has appendicitis. She’s in the operating room now. The doctors said if we’d left it any longer it might have ruptured.”

  “But she will be okay?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “Book into a motel so you get a decent sleep,” Caroline said.

  “I might do that, once I know Maria is in recovery. I appreciate you taking over the kitchen. It wasn’t the original plan.”

  “It’s no problem.” The truth. For once, Caroline felt as if she was doing something useful, instead of being James and Ricky’s mother. Not that she didn’t love her two sons, but sometimes in Middlemarch her identity got buried.

  Dara delivered the boys back at five. Caroline settled them in the kitchen with an early dinner since they were both drooping with tiredness.

  “Did you have a good time?” she asked.

  “We drew pictures, and we played soccer,” James said. “It’s fun playing here.”

  Caroline nodded. “Ricky, did you have fun?”

  “We played tag, and we ran and ran and ran.” He puffed out his chest. “I like running.”

  Caroline smoothed his hair. “That’s good.”

  The men started arriving for dinner just after six, their hair wet and slicked back after their quick showers. They’d changed into clean clothes and brought their appetites.

  “Hey, kitten.” Marsh slipped his arm around her waist and hauled her close for a kiss, even with their audience.

  “Hey,” someone shouted. “Don’t molest the cook. We might miss out on dinner, and it sure smells good.”

  Marsh gave her another quick kiss and released her to greet their sons. “I have an in with this cook,” he tossed over his shoulder to his new workmates. “She’ll feed me, but you lot will need to mind your manners.”

  Several of the men hooted, making Caroline laugh. A small part of her had worried how they’d fit in because they couldn’t leave the station if it didn’t work for them. This was their last chance, but now after only a day, she felt at home. The boys were happy, and she slid a glance at Marsh. He was joking with several of the men, and she hadn’t seen him look this content for a long time. She bustled around the kitchen and moved the boys, so she could set the table for the men.

  This change had been good for the entire family.

  “Why don’t you put the kids in the lounge in front of the TV?” one of the older men suggested. “They can go to sleep on the couch. Cam and Maria won’t mind.”

  “Thanks,” Marsh said. “I’ll take them to the house once we’ve had dinner.”

  Caroline served soup and produced a steak and kidney pie and platters of vegetables for their main course.

  “Caroline, you need to eat too. You don’t need to run after us,” one of the men said.

  They chorused an agreement, so she sat and ate a bowl of soup and a slice of fresh bread.

  Marsh took her hand under the table, the physical contact thrilling her.

  “I want to get a head start on tomorrow, so I don’t have to work as hard,” Caroline said.

  “I can stay.”

  Caroline searched his expression and softened inside. He was a good man. Nothing like his parents. A miracle, which made her curious about his older brother and how things had been before his death. “Take the boys home once you’ve eaten. They’ll sleep better in their own beds. I’ll be an hour tops.”

  “I still owe you a massage,” Marsh said.

  “One hour,” she promised.

  Once Marsh left, she had the kitchen to herself. The men had loaded their dishes into the dishwasher and there wasn’t much left to clean up. She put on the crockpot and prepared a steak and vegetable stew. With that underway, she made a batch of cookie dough—one she could freeze and take out as needed. The more items she could add to the freezer, the easier it would be in the future.

  An hour and a half later, she switched off the kitchen lights and made her way home. The moon hung low on the inky-black horizon but the stars filled the sky, so many twinkly lights it was difficult to know where to look. Beautiful. She stopped and did a slow twirl, appreciating the enormity of the sight and how most people never got the chance to see this natural beauty.

  With a happy sigh, she began walking, knowing Marsh was waiting for her. She could see their house, the porch light burning like a welcoming beacon.

  A torch bounced in her pocket with each step, but the dark didn’t seem so forbidding this evening. This morning—well, she felt embarrassed of her girlish behavior and was glad no one had witnessed her city-girl panic.

  No sooner had she finished this thought than a growl came from her right. She froze, her pulse jumping into flight-mode. She strained to listen, but silence greeted her, the only audible sound her own choppy breathing.

  “You’re being silly.” Caroline forced her legs to move again, walking faster, faster. She flew across the gravel road and darted into their driveway. Her sweaty hands grasped the door handle, and it turned. As she opened the door, she glanced over her shoulder and swore she saw a big black cat staring at her. She blinked and when she focused again, it had disappeared. Either that or her mind was playing tricks on her.

  James had drawn black cats this afternoon, and Ricky had run around madly doing cat growls. Her imagination had taken the obvious road and was now having a joke at her expense.

  “Caroline. You’re home.” Marsh prowled toward her, stalking like a cat, his smile toothy. Were those…no! God, this physical work had tired her. She blinked several times, and everything in her world righted when she looked at her husband again.

  “I enjoyed today, but I’m not used to the physical work. The pots and cooking trays are huge.”

  Concern shone in Marsh’s eyes. “If it’s too much for you, you need to say. One of the other wives will come and help.”

  “No, it’s fine. I enjoyed myself. The last few years—I haven’t felt useful. Whenever I cooked for the shearers on your parents’ farm, your mother made out it was her who did the hard work.”

  “I wish you’d told me,” Marsh said. “She had no right to treat you that way.”

  “Forget it. I didn’t want to worry you.” And she was ashamed of folding so easily. She should have stood up to Marsh’s mother.

  “This move is good for both of us. I enjoyed working with the men today. They’re a close-knit group yet they were very welcoming. Felix said I’d appreciate Glenshee’s benefits.”

  “That’s great, because the boys are happy too, and I loved my day, even though it was busy.”

  “Come and sit with me. I’ll make you a cup of your milo and run you a bath.”

  “Sounds like heaven.”

  Marsh coddled her, and ten minutes later he started on the promised massage. The scent of lavender oil filled the air, and she lay on her stomach on top of their bed. His hands glided over her shoulders and back, digging into sore muscles and loosening kinks.

  She moaned at the sheer decadent pleasure of it, and his chuckle filled the air.

  “Not too loud. You’ll wake the boys.”

  “Don’t think so,” she retorted. “I checked on them while you were running the bath. They were both sound asleep.”

  “Well, in that case.” He turned her over, and his expression had her licking her lips.

  “Oh.”

  “Oh, indeed.” With great deliberation, he unfastened the buttons of the shirt he’d worn for dinner. He tugged it off his broad shoulders and set it on a chair. His jeans were next.

  “No underwear,” she murmured, her avid gaze enjoying the scenery.

  “I’ve missed this playful side of you.”

  “I�
�ve missed us.”

  “Me too,” he whispered, and then he kissed her, hands scented by lavender oil caressing her shoulders, her neck, cupping her breasts.

  She sighed against his mouth, wrapping her hands around his shoulders. Already, aroused from his touches during the massage, she writhed against him, desiring a deeper contact.

  “Now,” she gasped. “Please.”

  He guided his cock to her and pushed inside in slow increments. This loving…it felt new and special, so special.

  “I love you, Marsh.”

  “A man never tires of hearing his sexy wife say that.”

  A week ago she’d have second-guessed his words, but the change in scenery, a new confidence left her doubts lingering in the dust.

  He thrust at speed, driving them both higher, then nibbled on a spot at the base of her neck. He’d bitten her there the previous night. It had hurt, then the pleasure of her orgasm had swamped her and she’d forgotten the brief pain. This morning she’d expected a bloody mess, but there was only a raised mark. When she’d fingered it while in the shower, sparks of enjoyment had coalesced in her pussy. Weird, but every time Marsh touched that spot she lit up like a vibrant firework.

  This time was no exception. She gasped and tumbled into intense bliss. The sex between them had always been good, but last night and now—exceptional.

  Marsh shuddered above her, his head thrown back, his pretty green eyes shrouded as he climaxed. His face always looked so fierce and primal during their lovemaking. Lucky, she knew and trusted him because that face could scare a woman.

  She stared at him, watched for his expression to soften and his eyes to open. There. Intense love for her blazed from him, and she smiled in return.

  Lazily, they rearranged their bodies and Marsh snapped off the lamp on his side of the bed. She snuggled into his warmth and thought she’d never been this happy.

  Caroline woke the next morning, a few minutes before the alarm was due to chime. She reached over to slap the off button.

  “You’re awake,” Marsh whispered next to her ear.

  “Yes. I should get moving. I didn’t think to organize the boys.”

  “All in hand.” Marsh sounded smug. “Dara said it was no trouble collecting them after the school session. I’ll drop them off at school before I head off to join the men. Hamish said it won’t matter if I’m late. They know we’re juggling family commitments.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He moved back a fraction and slid his hand over her butt. He gave it a quick slap. “You’d better get moving or you’ll have a kitchen load of hungry men and no food prepared.”

  Caroline rolled out of bed. “Thanks.” She leaned over to give him a kiss and laughed when she noticed him leering at her breasts. She tweaked his nose. “Enough of that, Mr. Rutherford. We don’t have time for mischief this morning.”

  “Is that what you call it?”

  With another laugh, she scuttled off to shower and change. Fifteen minutes later, after checking on the boys, she left the house, her steps brisk, her gaze darting from left to right as she hurried to the main homestead.

  She arrived to find Hamish, the man the workers took orders from while Cam was away, sitting at the dining table, a mug of tea in his hands. The stew she’d put on to cook in the crockpot smelled amazing.

  “Am I late?”

  “No, you’re not late, lass. There was a problem with the stock late last night. We’re missing a hundred head of our prize merinos.”

  “Rustlers?”

  “Looks like.”

  “Rustlers hit around Middlemarch just before we left. Marsh’s father lost stock, and no one saw a thing. Evidently, they are brazen thieves.”

  “So were this lot. It was pure chance I was outside and heard a truck.”

  “What time was this?”

  “About nine.”

  “Something growled at me while I was walking home.” A nervous laugh escaped. “Scared the crap out of me. Do you think they had dogs?”

  He shot her a sharp look. “Possibly. Anyhow, we’ll be more alert now. Damn if Cam doesn’t have enough to worry him.”

  Caroline checked on the stew in the crockpot. Perfect.

  “Smells good,” Hamish said.

  “Breakfast will be half an hour yet. If you can keep a secret, I’ll give you a plate now. That’s if you’re okay eating meat at this time of the day.”

  “Sounds good,” he said in his gruff voice. “It’s good of you to help out. It’s one thing off Cam’s mind.”

  “I enjoy cooking, and you’re full of compliments. It’s making me feel important.”

  “Food is important, lass. We can’t work on empty stomachs.”

  “No chance of that,” she said as she lifted the lid off the enormous slow cooker.

  Caroline gave Hamish his stew and chatted to him about life on Glenshee station.

  “Gets cold in the middle of winter. Didn’t have a big storm last year. Reckon we’re due.”

  “I’ve always lived in the south,” Caroline said. “I know about bad winters.”

  “We’ll get cut off,” he warned.

  “Are you trying to scare me?”

  He barked out a laugh. “Maybe. You’re a nice lady. I don’t want you to go silly with cabin fever.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  The phone rang, and Hamish rose to answer the call. Cam, she deduced as she cracked three dozen eggs and whisked in milk and condiments. By the time the men tromped into the kitchen, some bleary-eyed, the eggs were ready and bacon and sausages kept warm in the oven.

  “Can I have a volunteer to make toast?”

  “I’ll do it.” Hamish grabbed the stack of bread she’d cut and shoved six pieces into the toaster while the men started on cereal. “Most of you have heard that someone has stolen our sheep. Since the bastards found it so easy the first time, they’ll return. We will take turns doing night patrols. I’ll let you know times once I’ve worked out the logistics. Cam and Maria will be back today since they’re discharging Maria this morning.” He glanced at Caroline. “He’s trying to organize one of Maria’s friends to take over part of the cooking, so we don’t scare you off, Caroline.”

  She nodded, part of her disappointed but at least she’d have time to work on the dresses she’d promised Tomasine and Isabella.

  “I want team one to muster the sheep at the top paddock. You’ll need to stay over at Red Hill hut tonight. Team two you’re on rabbit patrol this evening in the western paddock. I want you to check the fencing in the Hut paddock and do a count of the flock. I want to know the exact tally of missing sheep. Team three we’re going to crutch the ewes and give them health checks.” He plucked the slices of toast free and handed them off to the men before loading more bread in the toaster. “Any questions?”

  Once again, the differences between the way Cam ran his farm and Marsh’s father struck Caroline. The men here worked as a team with little grumbling and they attacked their working day in enthusiasm.

  With their bellies full and tasks allocated, the men drifted from the kitchen, leaving her alone. Caroline got stuck into the dishes, then started to make more bread.

  The whop-whop of the helicopter sounded overhead midmorning, and she washed her floury hands to put on the jug to make a hot drink. Cam and Maria entered the kitchen ten minutes later, and Caroline turned to greet them.

  Maria’s face was pale, her vibrant personality missing as she forced a smile. “Thanks for covering for me.”

  “No problem. You look as if you need to rest.”

  “I’m tired. Didn’t sleep well with the ward hullabaloo.”

  “Hospitals are noisy places,” Caroline said.

  “I’m thinking of taking Maria for two weeks holiday. Her sister keeps asking us to visit her in the Bay of Islands, but there is never time. This health scare has made me realize too much work isn’t good.” Cam’s voice was gruff, his expression concerned as he studied his wife. “We haven’t had a holiday
for years.”

  “You should go,” Caroline said. “I’m coping with the meals. Hamish has stuff under control on the station.” She crossed her fingers behind her back, not wanting to worry Cam with the stock thefts.

  “What do you think, Maria? We could leave tomorrow.”

  “Caroline will need help in the kitchen. I haven’t found anyone to help yet. She should have time off at the same time as Marsh.”

  “Hush, sweetheart. Let’s get you up to bed and comfy, then I’ll sort out logistics.”

  Chapter Eight

  Three days later, Caroline settled James and Ricky at the kitchen table with paper and crayons. She gave her youngest son a stern glance. “No drawing on the table. If I see one little drawing not on your paper, I won’t give you any cake or cookies for ten days. That’s one day for every finger,” she added when he opened his mouth. “Do you understand?”

  He nodded vigorously, dark curls falling over his eyes. She hadn’t considered haircuts. Someone on the station must cut hair or maybe somewhere in Twizel. Marsh had promised them a trip to see Mount Cook this coming weekend.

  A weekend. She was trying not to get too excited, but it was such a treat to go somewhere as a family.

  “Should I make Shepherd’s Pie or do a roast dinner tonight?”

  “Roast,” James said.

  She ruffled his hair as he looked up from his drawing. Another leopard. “Do you like leopards?”

  He nodded, his black curls as long as his brother’s.

  “They come with spots too.”

  He cocked his head and considered his picture. Two large leopards lounged on rocks while two smaller leopards played below. All leopards were soot black while the background in his drawing resembled the station scenery. As she watched, James sketched a figure—a woman. “Why is there a lady in your picture?”

  James glanced up at her and shrugged. “Just is.”

  She smoothed a rebellious curl. “I think you will look after us in our old age with the proceeds from your wonderful drawings.” He’d drawn a lady in his other big cat drawings too even though she’d told him that his big cats might eat the lady.

  Satisfied the boys were occupied, she turned her mind to the coming meals. The packed lunches were ready for the men who were working away from the homestead today, and someone would collect them soon. Six of the men were coming for lunch and she’d have the full contingent for dinner because the mustering team had arrived back from the far hut. Vegetables. She could do them now and parboil them.