The Cattleman's Ready-Made Family. Michelle Douglas
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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 to be businesslike and brisk. But that boy had stepped in front of his mother when he’d thought she’d needed protecting. There were grown men who were afraid to take Cam on physically. At six feet three and sporting the kind of muscles that hard work on the land developed, he understood that reluctance.
He was big and he was strong. Yet, still, this little boy had faced his fear and Cam couldn’t ignore that.
‘Auntie Tess—’ the little girl tugged on the woman’s sleeve ‘—I’ve gotta go.’
Auntie? She wasn’t their mother?
‘Right.’ She stared at him expectantly. ‘The key?’
He recalled how he’d considered talking them out of this property. The contract he’d left sitting on the bench fluttered in the breeze. He considered Tyler’s act of courage and Krissie’s excitement about chickens and the way Tess had quieted the children’s fears with a song.
A new start. He knew all about the need for those.
He fished the key out of his pocket and handed it over.
The three of them raced to the front door of the old farmhouse. Cam retrieved his contract and then stood under the Kurrajong tree and dragged in a breath. Okay, the house was neither here nor there. he had no plans for it. Those forty hectares, though, did matter and he wanted—needed—Tess’s signature on the dotted line.
And he wasn’t leaving until he had it.
He followed them into the house.
‘Bags this room!’ Tyler shouted from the corridor off to the right. ‘It has a view of the front and I can see who’s coming, which is good ’cause I’m the man of the house.’
That almost made Cam smile again, only he remembered how pale the boy had gone when Cam had appeared unannounced.
The toilet flushed, the sound of water running in a tap and then Krissie raced down the corridor too. ‘Auntie Tess, this is your room! And this one is mine ’cause it’s right next to yours!’
Cam let out a breath as he glanced around. The yard might need some TLC, but the women from the Save-Our-Town committee had cleaned this place to within an inch of its life. The furniture might be mismatched—favouring comfort more than elegance—but there wasn’t a single dust bunny in sight. ‘Coffee?’ he called out, wanting Tess to know he’d followed them into the house.
‘Excellent idea,’ she called back.
He strode into the kitchen and put the jug on to boil. The farmhouse wasn’t fancy by any means, but it had a certain homey charm. he had the impression that Tess would turn it into a home in the blink of an eye.
What on earth was he talking about? He shook his head. She already had, and he wasn’t sure how. It took more than a smile and a song to make a home.
Didn’t it?
He let himself out of the back door, the contract burning a hole against his palm as he moved down the steps to stare out at those magical forty hectares. She was paying a dollar a week in rent for all that. It was enough to make a grown man weep.
He straightened. He had a canola contract to fulfil—he’d given his word—and he wasn’t going to let anyone steal it out from under him. His lips twisted. He didn’t doubt for a moment that one person in particular in Bellaroo Creek would try to do exactly that, but would his mother be party to such duplicity?
‘You better get that particular look off your face quick smart or you’ll give Ty and Krissie nightmares for a month.’
He blinked to find Tess holding a mug out to him. He frowned. ‘I was supposed to be making those.’ He’d meant to make a stab at the country-hospitality approach first before bombarding her with his demand. Besides, she had dark circles beneath those magnificent eyes of hers. If she’d left two hours from the other side of Sydney this morning she’d have driven for the best part of eight hours.
The least he could’ve done was make her a cup of coffee. And mow the lawn. And trim that hedge of plumbago.
‘No matter, and sorry but I put milk in it before I thought. If you want sugar—’
‘No, this is great,’ he said hastily. ‘Thanks.’
Her lips twitched. ‘You didn’t strike me as a sugar-in-theircoffee type.’
What was that supposed to mean?
She stared out at the fields and drew a breath deep into her lungs. ‘Oh, my, look at it all!’
His skin tightened. His muscles tensed.
‘You live in a beautiful part of the world, Cameron.’
‘Cam.’ The correction came out husky. The only person to call him Cameron was his mother. ‘But you’re right.’ He nodded towards the fields. ‘It’s beautiful.’
And by rights it should be his. He spun to her. ‘There’s something—’
‘I want to apologise for being late.’
He blinked at her interruption. ‘No problem.’
‘We had one threat of car sickness.’
He grimaced.
‘And I took a wrong turn when we left Parkes. I started heading towards