Christmas With The Single Dad. Sarah Morgan
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Harry stopped chopping salad vegetables to glance out of the window. ‘Well, now, that makes sense. Probably why she’s got such a bee in her bonnet about exercising and losing weight.’
At the words ‘losing weight’, Harry instantly had the other two women’s attention.
‘She tried jogging around the property in the early morning, but …’ she flicked a glance at Cade ‘… but that didn’t work out so well. So Cade set her up in Fran’s old home gym.’
He didn’t know why, when all three women turned to look at him, he wanted to roll his shoulders and back out of the room. ‘Someone may as well use it,’ he mumbled. ‘She’s no gym junkie, though.’
Harry sliced through a lettuce with evident satisfaction. ‘So when he found out she’d always wanted to learn to ride, he set her up with Jack for lessons each morning.’
‘That was a lovely thing to do,’ his mother said. While he was no longer a seven-year-old, he found himself momentarily basking in the warmth of her approval. The kind of approval it seemed that Nicola had never received. ‘But why aren’t you teaching her yourself?’
That wasn’t something he was prepared to get into. ‘She and Jack have hit it off. He’s enjoying it.’
‘And Jack’s not getting any younger,’ Harry observed.
‘He’s still more than capable of putting in a full day’s work.’
‘Darling—’ his mother laid a hand on his arm, her eyes warm with a mixture of relief and delight ‘—I thought we’d lost you for ever after everything Fran did, but I can see now that’s not the case. I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you being your old self again.’
Fran’s betrayal had left a mark that would never go away. It had killed something inside him. But for Ella and Holly’s sake, he’d had to pull himself together. It occurred to him now just how much he’d put these three women through in the last year or so, but they’d stood beside him through it all. He glanced out of the window. He was lucky.
‘I know it’s been a bit of a long haul.’ He grimaced. ‘I’m sorry if I—’
‘No apologies necessary,’ his mother cut in. ‘Just tell me you’re over the worst of it.’
He nodded. ‘I’m through with looking back and trying to work out where it went wrong. I’m not sure I’ll ever understand why Fran did what she did, but it’s time to look towards the future. From here on it’s onwards and upwards.’
‘And does a particular pretty nanny have anything to do with that?’ Delia asked archly.
‘For God’s sake, Dee, not everything is about sex and romance,’ he muttered in disgust.
Dee didn’t look convinced.
‘She’s a bit of a lost soul is all and I thought we might be able to …’
She cocked a wicked eyebrow again. ‘To?’
He refused to rise to the bait. ‘To make her feel at home here. To take her under our wing and … and make her feel better about herself.’
‘I think that’s a lovely plan,’ his mother said.
Cade shrugged and then glared at his sister. ‘One thing’s for sure, Nicola certainly doesn’t think she’s pretty, and she thinks she’s fat.’
Verity sighed. ‘Don’t we all.’
Harry snorted. ‘And some of us are a bit on the heavy side, but I know my worth.’
Dee had gone to the window. ‘She is pretty, but in a quieter way than Fran’s flashiness.’
He didn’t like the way she spoke about Nicola and Fran in the same sentence. It seemed wrong somehow. He didn’t say anything, though. He could just imagine what Dee would make of it if he did.
‘A haircut,’ she said, suddenly swinging back to face them. ‘Something that would make the most of her eyes. Mum?’
Verity hadn’t trained as a hairdresser, but she had a knack for it. When she’d lived at Waminda Downs all the station women in a three hundred kilometre radius would come to get their hair done by her.
Dee touched her hair. ‘I brought along a couple of bottles of permanent colour and a highlighting kit. I was hoping you’d do my hair for me while we were here, but we can use it on Nicola instead.’
He glanced from one to the other. They wanted to change her hair colour? There was nothing wrong with her hair.
Verity joined Dee at the window. ‘I believe I know the exact style that would suit her.’
‘Those clothes,’ Dee sighed.
‘Far too baggy,’ her mother agreed.
Harry winked at him. ‘Sounds like our Nic’s in good hands.’
She wasn’t his anything. He wanted that crystal-clear, but …
‘I don’t want you bullying her into something she doesn’t want.’
His mother swung around. ‘Of course not, darling. Harry, can you look after the children for a couple of hours this afternoon? Dee and I will help with dinner in return.’
‘No probs at all.’
‘And I don’t want you wrecking her.’ He thrust his jaw out. ‘She’s not a Barbie doll. Don’t go making her look all plastic and … and fake.’
Like Fran. The words hung in the air.
The three women exchanged glances but didn’t say anything.
‘And … and don’t make her feel like a charity case either.’ She’d hate that and he didn’t want to do anything that would make her feel uncomfortable. He hadn’t broken her confidence about her two-timing fiancé and back-stabbing girlfriend, but he had verbalised his opinion of her mother and he was pretty sure she wouldn’t have appreciated that. He shifted his weight from his heels to the balls of his feet. Now that he had his mother and Dee on board, conversely he wanted to protect Nicola from their ministrations and meddling.
Nicola didn’t need doing over or dollying up. As far as he was concerned, she was perfect the way she was. She was brilliant with his kids. She made them laugh but, more importantly, she made them feel secure.
And she kissed like an angel. Like a bad, bad angel, and just the memory of their kiss had his blood heating up.
‘Darling,’ his mother said, ‘do give us more credit than that.’
His mother was tact personified. And, despite how much she enjoyed teasing her older brother, so was Dee. They were kind, generous women. They wouldn’t do anything to make Nicola feel bad about