⦠guess Iâll be going!â he called pointlessly at the cottage door which had closed quietly in his face, then shook his head and turned to walk around to the front of the house.
Possibly the touchiest woman heâd ever met, and certainly the most unwelcoming. It would never fly on this mountain. Neighbours needed each other. If she was being that cool to himâpractically the law out hereâhe could bet there wasnât a single family this side of the ridge that would drop in to see if she needed anything in an emergency. Gorgeous or not.
And she most definitely was.
That ghost of an almost-smile stuck in his mind. Hair like spun gold. And the most unusual grey eyes, with a bit of every other colour in them. Fine pointed chin, smooth, pale skin. Soft, small lips. Everything about her seemed ⦠refined. There was no one like her on this ridge.
Todd climbed into his truck and buckled up. He saw the tiniest shimmy in curtains that told him she was still watching. Waiting for him to go.
Nope, absolutely no one like her.
Never mind; he had bigger fish to fry than a recalcitrant licence-breacher. Old Tom Hardy had reported seeing that black panther in his far paddock againâclaimed to have a footprint this time.
The fact heâd swung by Miss Pricklyâs refuge first said a lot about his belief in a mythical wildcat down on the Hardy farm. Still, it kept him busy. And in a town where there was barely enough cause to have even a part-time ranger, busy was a rarity. When heâd settled in Banjoâs Ridge heâd been looking for a fresh start. A slow-motion kind of existence. Anything as long as it was different from his life in the city.
Mythical black panthers and enigmatic mystery women certainly qualified.
CHAPTER TWO
Saturday
JAYNEâS heart hammered hard enough to break a rib, but she couldnât break free of the jumbled mess of images. They no longer played out like grim movies in her mind, but the disturbing montage had a way of leaking, unwanted, into her dreams.
They saturated her with old feelings: suspicion, self-doubt, the dark, clawing fear sheâd lived with for two years. No matter how hard she worked during the day to keep them at bay, they simply waited for nightâand her eyelidsâto fall.
The cold, wet nose of reality helped draw her back. She cracked one eye open and stared into deep black gems. Her hand slid out and curled around silken ears.
âOllie â¦â
Satisfied his work was done, Oliver padded back out of Jayneâs bedroom on a gentle click-clack of claws, leaving her to rise unassisted. His job was pulling her out of a nightmare. Her job was pulling herself out of bed. The place she could easily spend the entire day if she hadnât promised herself she wouldnât do that any more.
She showered and dressed in super-quick time, not prepared to take any chances. If there was going to be a stranger hanging around the place she wanted to be as prepared as possible. Her eyes flicked habitually to the small sports bag behind the front door. Spare keys, passport, cash, clean underwear. It sat gathering dust except for those bleak times she scrabbled through the contents obsessively, to make sure everything was still there for when she needed it.
If she needed it.
âBreakfast!â Four dogs came running as she clanked their bowls together loudly. It was the one time of the day Ollie showed he had more to his personality than cautious regard. Then she set to chopping fresh fruit and veg for her rehab critters.
Her own breakfast was a more leisurely affair. A treat to herself out on the back veranda, served on real china with tea from a teapot, amid the sweet perfume of native jasmine with the mid-morning sun to warm her. She used the ritual to force herself to slow down, to remember where she was, how anonymous she now was. How safe.
âGood morning.â
Ollie went berserk inside, but Dougal, Jaz and Fergus came galloping around the house and careened with enthusiasm into the man whoâd appeared silently at the side of the veranda. Jayneâs pulse leapt painfully in her throat and she lifted a shaky hand to it, clattering her teacup noisily into its saucer. She used the brief moment as he rough-housed with the dogs to recover.
Then he straightened and met her eyes. âIâve startled you again. My apologies.â
Her voice failed her the first time. She cleared her throat quietly, then tried again. âNo. Itâs fine. I was a thousand miles away. I didnât hear your car.â
She stared at all six feet plus of him, standing spread-footed on her land like a giant eucalypt rooting itself into the earth. Her fluttering heart took its time settling in her breast, and she forced her voice to fill the silent void. âWould you like a cup of coffee? Tea?â
He smiled and rummaged in his jacket pockets while the smaller dogs darted around his feet like skimper-fish on a reef. âI should get these forms back to town as soon as possible. Thank you, though.â
Jayne frowned. He wasnât supposed to say no. Not that she wanted to have coffee with him particularly, but sheâd asked ⦠and asking had taken some doing on her part. âExcuse me just a moment, then.â She gathered together her dishes and then took them inside to soak in the sink. When she returned he had the forms out and ready at the base of her back porch steps. It took just a few minutes for her to detail them and sign. Male eyes rounded when she produced a roll of cash from which to peel off the modest application fee.
âDo you always carry that much cash on you this early in the morning?â he asked.
Yes, always. âI wasnât sure how much the fee would be.â
He took just two notes, then bundled the paperwork up with it and shoved both into an inside pocket in his Rangerâs jacket. Then he looked out at the piles of materials lying scattered around the enormous fenced yard behind the house. âAre you going to be okay building those enclosures by yourself?â
âHow didâ?â
âMesh. Timber. Wildlife. Doesnât take a genius. Can you build?â He looked as if he already knew the answer to that.
She straightened her back. âIâll work it out.â
âYou have to submit drawings with your application. So the Shire knows the animals will be adequately housed.â
Jayne groaned. Why was everything so hard? She was trying, wasnât she?
Blue eyes studied her and he seemed to come to a decision. He cleared his throat. âI was wondering whether you needed any help. Iâm pretty good with my ⦠with construction.â
Turmoil ruined her tranquil morning. On one hand she did need helpâdesperatelyâespecially if drawings were required. And Ranger Blackwood wasnât a complete stranger now.
Which didnât mean she was comfortable around him. But having his help meant heâd be back. And back.
