details in an attempt to tug on all the unknown heartstrings that would be reading their application.
They walked back towards the house. Tess swooped down to pick up her abandoned coffee from the grass. She chugged back its lukewarm contents and then let the mug dangle loosely from her fingers. ‘Why is your surname different from your mother’s?’
‘I’m the son from her first marriage.’
Right. She nodded towards the children. ‘Their father and mother—my sister—died in a car accident three months ago.’
He stilled. ‘I’m sorry.’
He sounded genuinely sympathetic and her eyes started to burn. Even now, three months down the track and a million tears later, she still found condolences hard to deal with. But Cameron’s voice sounded low and deep—the tone and breadth midway between an oboe and a cello—and somehow that made it easier. She nodded and kicked herself back into an aimless meandering around the yard.
‘Are you interested in farming? In keeping cattle or horses or growing a crop?’
The abrupt change of topic took her off guard. ‘God, no!’ She hoped he didn’t take her horror personally, but she didn’t know the first thing about farming. She didn’t know much about vegetable gardens or keeping chickens either, she supposed, but she could learn. ‘Why?’
‘Because there’s been a bit of a mix-up with the tenancy agreement.’
Her blood chilled. Just like that. In an instant. Her toes and fingers froze rigid. He couldn’t kick them out! He’d given them the key.
The children loved this place. She’d made sure they’d fallen in love with it—had used her enthusiasm and assumed confidence to give it all a magical promise. Ty and Krissie weren’t resilient enough to deal with another disappointment.
And they didn’t deserve to.
‘I mean, yes,’ she snapped out as quickly as she could. ‘Farming is exactly the reason we’re out here.’
He frowned. In fact, it might be described as a scowl. But then he glanced at the kids and it became just a frown again. ‘I beg your pardon?’
She didn’t like the barely leashed control stretching through his voice, but he was not kicking them out. ‘What I’m trying to say is that I’m fully prepared to learn farming if that’s part of my contract.’
She’d gone over the contract with a fine-tooth comb. She’d consulted a solicitor. Her chin lifted. She’d signed a legally binding contract. She had understood it. The solicitor had ensured that. She wasn’t in the wrong here. A fine trembling started up in her legs, but she stood her ground. ‘I’m not going to let you kick us out.’ She even managed to keep her voice perfectly pleasant. ‘Just so you know.’
‘I don’t want to kick you out.’
That was when she knew he was lying. Even though he’d been kind to the children. Even though he’d handed over the key. This man would love it if they left.
Didn’t he want to save his town?
By this stage they’d reached the back fence. She set her mug on a fencepost, and then leant against it and folded her arms. ‘It’s been a long day, Mr Manning, so I’m going to speak plainly.’
He blinked at the formality of her Mr Manning. And she saw he understood the sudden distance she’d created between them.
‘I signed a contract and I understand my rights. If there’s been a mix-up then it hasn’t been of my making.’ She folded her arms tighter. ‘Whatever this mix-up may be, the children and I are not leaving this house. We’re living here for the next three years and we’re going to carve out a new life for ourselves and we are going to make that work. This is now our home and we’re going to make it a good home. Furthermore, you are not going to say anything in front of the children that might upset or alarm them—you hear me?’
His mouth opened and closed. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’
He leaned towards her and he smelled like fresh-cut grass, and it smelled so fresh and young that she wanted to bury her face against his neck and just breathe it in. She shook herself. It’d been a long trip. Very long. ‘Then smile!’ she snapped.
To her utter astonishment, he laughed, and the grim lines that hooded his eyes and weighed down the corners of his mouth all lightened, and his eyes sparkled, the same deep green as clover.
Her breath caught. The man wasn’t just big and broad and a great help to his mum—he was beautiful!
The blood started to thump in a painful pulse about her body. Four months ago she’d have flirted with Cam in an attempt to lighten him up. Three months ago she’d have barely noticed him. It was amazing the changes a single month could bring. One day. In fact, lives could change in a single moment.
And they did.
And they had.
She swallowed. The particular moment that had turned her life on its head might not have been her fault, but if she’d been paying attention she might’ve been able to avert it. That knowledge would plague her to her grave.
And men, beautiful and otherwise, were completely off the agenda.
She snapped away from him. He frowned. ‘Tess, I’m not going to ask you to leave. I swear. This house is all yours for the next three years, and beyond if you want it.’
She bit her lip, glanced back at him. ‘Really?’
‘Really.’
‘Still—’ she stuck out a hip ‘—you’re less than enthused about it.’
He hesitated and then shrugged. ‘My mother has, in effect, foisted you lot on to me.’
She glanced at the house and then back at him. ‘Isn’t the house hers?’
‘Not precisely.’ He exhaled loudly. ‘My father made certain provisions for my mother in his will. She has the use of this house along with an attached parcel of land for as long as she lives. When she passes the rights all revert back to the owner of Kurrajong Station.’
‘You?’
‘Me.’
She pursed her lips. He met her gaze steadily. She wanted to get a handle on this enigmatic neighbour of hers. Was he friend or foe? ‘Don’t you want to help save Bellaroo Creek?’
‘Sure I do.’
‘As long as you’re not asked to sacrifice too much in the effort, right?’
‘As long as I’m not asked to give up a significant portion of my potential income in the process,’ he countered.
‘How will our being here impact negatively on your income?’ Her understanding was that the Save-Our-Town scheme only offered unused farmhouses in exchange for ludicrously cheap rents. If their farmhouse was unused he couldn’t possibly be losing money. In fact, he’d be fifty-two dollars a year richer.
Her
