The Cattleman's Ready-Made Family. Michelle Douglas
tartan skirt, thick black tights and black Doc Martens she reminded him of a ladybird. Her movements, though, were pure willy wagtail—light, graceful…cheeky. In fact, she looked like a university student. He sat up straighter. She couldn’t be old enough to have two kids!
He turned his attention to the children—a boy of around seven and a girl a year or two younger. He had a vague recollection of his mother mentioning their ages as being a real coup for the school. It was the main reason the committee had chosen this family from the flood of applicants.
A frown built inside him. They might be a coup for the school, but right now they were a disaster for him.
Finally he allowed himself a grim smile as the woman shook out her arms and legs as if she’d spent too many hours in the car—granted it was a bit of a hike from Sydney to Bellaroo Creek—and then moved to rest her hands on the front fence, a child standing either side of her. Her dark hair shone in the autumn sun. It made him realise how brightly the sun shone in the soft autumn stillness of the afternoon.
The boy glanced up at her, indecision flitting across his face. ‘What do you think?’ He glanced back at the cottage. ‘Did you know it would look like this?’
Cam pursed his lips at the edge of disappointment lacing the boy’s words. The little girl moved closer to the woman as if seeking reassurance. Cam straightened. If they hated the place they’d happily sign the whole kit and caboodle back over to him! That’d solve everything.
‘I had no idea what it’d look like.’
Her voice sounded like music.
She beamed down at the children and then clasped her hands beneath her chin. ‘Oh, but I think it’s perfect!’ She knelt on the ground, heedless of the danger to her tights, to put an arm about each of them.
The little girl pressed in against her. ‘Really?’
‘You do?’ The little boy leaned against her too.
‘Oh, yes!’
Cam wondered where she came by such confidence and enthusiasm. She was from the city. What did she know about country living?
Unless she’d known about those forty hectares before times and knew of their value. Unless Lance had already got to her, somehow. Unless—
‘Look at the size of the yard. Just think how perfect it’ll be once we’ve mown the lawn and trimmed back that hedge of…’ She gestured with her head because it was obvious she didn’t want to let go of either child.
‘You don’t know what it is,’ the boy accused.
‘I have no idea,’ she agreed with one of the widest grins Cam had ever seen.
Plumbago. He could’ve told her, but something hard and heavy had settled in his stomach. He could’ve at least mown the lawn for them, couldn’t he? He might’ve been flat out with organising the cattle station, the wheat crop and mustering sheep, but he should’ve found the time to manage at least that much. He mightn’t want these new tenants—his mother had manipulated him superbly on that front—but that wasn’t this woman’s fault, or her children’s.
‘But won’t it be fun finding out?’
‘I guess.’
‘And just imagine how pretty the cottage will look once we’ve painted it.’
She was going to paint his cottage?
‘Pink!’
‘Blue!’
‘Cream!’ She grinned back at the kids. ‘We’ll draw straws.’
He hoped she rigged that one.
The little girl started to jump up and down. ‘We can have chickens!’
‘And a dog!’ The little boy started to jump too.
‘And a lemon tree and pretty curtains at the window.’ The woman laughed, bouncing back upright. ‘And…?’
‘And we’ll all live happily ever after,’ they hollered together in a chorus, and Cam found he couldn’t drag his eyes from them.
It was just a house on an average acre block. But it hit him then what this property represented. A new start. And he knew exactly what that meant.
With everything in his soul.
The woman clapped her hands, claiming his attention once more. ‘I think we should sing our song to our new perfect home.’
And they started to sing. The children held a wobbly melody and the woman harmonised, and they so loved their song and grinned so madly at each other that Cam found his lips lifting upwards.
‘The house loves us now,’ the little girl whispered.
‘I believe you’re right.’
‘I love a veranda,’ the little boy said and Cam knew it was his way of saying he approved of the house…of their new start.
The woman smiled that smile again and Cam had to shift on his bench. ‘Right,’ she said, dusting off her hands, ‘what we need now is the key.’
That was his cue.
He hadn’t meant to sit here for so long watching them without declaring himself. He’d only thought—hoped—that a moment’s observation would give him the measure of his new tenants. Except…He found himself more confounded than ever.
‘That’d be where I come in.’
Both children literally jumped out of their skins at his abrupt declaration and he found himself wishing he’d cleared his throat first to give them warning of his presence.
The little girl ducked behind the woman, her hands clutching fistfuls of the woman’s shirt. The boy wavered for a moment or two and then moved in front of the woman, face pale and hands clenched, but obviously determined to protect her. It was a simple act of courage that knocked Cam sideways. His heart started to pound.
The woman reached out and tousled the boy’s hair and pulled him back in against her. She kept her voice solidly cheerful. ‘Aha! You’ll be our emissary from the town.’
Not quite, but…‘I have your key.’
‘Good Lord!’ She planted her hands on her hips as he emerged more fully into the sunlight. ‘Look at the size of you. I bet you’re a big help to your mum.’
And beside her both children immediately relaxed, and he found himself careful to keep the smile on his face and to move towards them slowly. ‘Actually, I guess I’m your landlord. I’m Cameron Manning.’
She frowned. ‘I thought Lorraine…’
‘My mother.’
‘Ah.’ She nodded, and then a cheeky grin peeked out. ‘The mother you’re such a big help to, no doubt.’
Actually, there was every doubt in the world on that head.
‘I’m Tess, and this is Tyler and Kristina—Ty and Krissie for short—and we’re very pleased to meet you.’
She held out her hand and he moved the final few feet forward to shake it. With such dark hair—nearly black—he’d thought she’d be pale but she had skin the colour of deep golden honey. Her palm slid against his, smooth and cool. Large brown eyes surveyed him with undisguised intensity as if attempting to sum up the man beneath the bulk. She smelled of liquorice and cool days, and when he finally stepped back Cam found his heart pounding.
‘Can you ride a horse?’ Tyler asked, awe stretching through his voice.
‘I can.’
‘I want to be a cowboy when I grow up.’
‘Then you’ve come to the right town,’ Cam said, though he could hardly believe that he spoke them. He hadn’t meant to be so welcoming. He’d meant