The Cattleman's Special Delivery (6 page)

She’d been trying so hard to keep her head above water, but now she felt overwhelmed by debt and black despair. She was drowning.

It had been so hard to hide her desolation from Reece, but she’d been determined. She couldn’t fall apart in front of him. Not again.

On the upside, they’d shared a very pleasant evening. Sitting across the dinner table from him, she’d found herself mesmerised by his dark brown eyes and the clean lines of his cheekbones. But, of course, she had to stop any hint of dreamy thoughts.

To begin with, Reece hadn’t shown the slightest hint that he was in any way romantically interested in her, and even if he had she couldn’t allow herself to become involved with another man. Not for ages, quite possibly not ever.

Not with these debts hanging over her head. She could never go into another relationship so encumbered. Her goal now was a stable, happy life for Rosie, and it was up to her to provide it. It was going to take years to get her finances back on track, and till then she couldn’t allow herself to be distracted by another guy, no matter how kind, or heroic, or attractive.

Anyway, besides her debt worries, falling for Alan had taught her many lessons—enough to make her doubt men and to doubt her own judgement when it came to making romantic choices.

She’d been totally taken in by Alan’s good looks and charming manner, and, after they’d married, he’d talked her into setting up her dream restaurant. He’d had it all planned. He would help to finance the venture. Jess would be head chef and he would be manager and together they’d attract fame and fortune.

In reality, Jess had worked her butt off in the kitchen, while Alan swanned about in the dining room, greeting their customers like bosom buddies, regaling them with stories they didn’t want to hear and drinking their wine. As a business manager, he’d been utterly hopeless. After six months, Jess had been so worried, she’d sat up one night until dawn trying to make sense of their finances.

What she’d found had appalled her. Alan had never invested his own money, and now they weren’t keeping up with repayments on the loan, and other bills had also gone unpaid. Their business had gone under three months later.

It was the beginning of a disastrous pattern. Looking back, it was hard to believe that Alan had twice managed to convince her that they’d get it right the next time.

Remembering it all now, Jess felt such a mix of sorrow and regret,
and
anger, but a good swag of the anger was directed at herself. She’d been too easily sucked in by Alan’s charm and his hollow promises.

She’d spent three years trying to believe in him.

In the future, she
had
to be wiser, and her safest bet was to rely on no one. Go it alone. She’d watched her mother limp from one disastrous relationship to another, and she’d vowed she’d never follow her example.

Now, she tiptoed into the bedroom she shared with Rosie. The old second-hand cot didn’t look as scratched and ugly in the soft pink glow of the rabbit-shaped night lamp. She could see Rosie lying on her side, her hair, lighter now, and soft as a cloud, her little hands loose and relaxed, a bubble of milk on her lower lip. As always, Jess felt her heart swell with love. Love sweet and painful and more powerful than anything she’d imagined.

We’ll be OK,
she silently promised her daughter.
I can do this. I’m a hard worker and in time, I’ll clear these debts and I’ll make a wonderful life for us.

Without a man.

CHAPTER FOUR

A
FTER
the doctor
left, Michael and Reece Weston eyed each other uncertainly.

There’d been good news and not so good. At least, the results of the tests were better than Reece had feared. His father didn’t need invasive procedures and he didn’t have to stay in hospital. But there were signs of congestive heart failure and, chances were, problems like fatigue, shortness of breath and swelling of his legs would get worse in the not too distant future.

The doctor had increased the blood-pressure medication, and he’d suggested lifestyle modifications. He’d also strongly advised that Michael should consider moving from Warringa to a retirement village in Cairns.

‘There’s a very good place with a nursing home attached,’ the doctor had said, and he’d asked a social worker to provide them with pamphlets.

Now, with a disgusted grunt, Reece’s father flicked the pamphlet off his bedspread, letting it flutter to the floor. ‘If they think I’m going into one of those damn places, they’ve another think coming.’

‘You’d be able to see a doctor regularly,’ Reece suggested carefully.

His father simply scowled. ‘I couldn’t stand being holed up with a lot of dreary old folk, all of them losing their marbles together.’

Bending down, Reece picked up the pamphlet. It showed pictures of healthy, happy seniors all neatly dressed and smiling, and enjoying a range of activities—art classes, walking groups, golf, gardening...

‘If anything happens...’ Reece frowned as he chose his words carefully. ‘If there’s a medical emergency, you’d be looked after straight away. Think how long it would take a doctor to get out to Warringa.’

‘I don’t care. I’m happy to die there,’ his father announced emphatically. ‘I’ve lived there all my flaming life and I don’t plan to leave my home now.’

It was hard for Reece to hear his father speak so casually about death. But they’d lived together, just the two of them, for so long that, of course, he wasn’t surprised. His dad had only ever known the red dust and wide open skies and the isolation that came with outback life. He couldn’t honestly imagine Michael Weston settling into an art class or going for a walk in the Cairns Botanical Gardens with a bunch of chattering old folk.

His dad’s life had been tough and lonely—driving mobs of cattle across vast tracks of wild country, coping with droughts and floods and fires. His father’s one attempt at marriage had been an abject failure, and after the divorce Michael Weston had stubbornly turned his back on society.

Reflecting on this now, Reece found himself remembering another time, when he was five years old, when his dad had brought him here to this same hospital in Cairns to visit his mother and to meet his new baby brother. His heart still ached when he remembered his mother in bed, looking pale and lovely in a frilly pink bed jacket.

‘Your little brother’s called Anthony,’ she’d told Reece as he’d peeped shyly into the cot.

‘But we’ll call him Tony,’ his dad had added.

His mother had snapped. ‘No, we won’t.’

Reece could still remember the fear that had gripped him as he’d become aware, yet again, of his parents’ tight-lipped animosity. Tension had bristled in the air around him as he’d stared into the cot at his brother. He’d been hoping for a playmate—he’d seen baby calves that could stagger onto four legs within minutes of birth—and he was disappointed that his brother was so tiny and helpless. Anthony—or Tony—did nothing but sleep.

‘Will Anthony be able to play with me when he wakes up?’

His mother had laughed at this, and then she’d cried. She’d cried hard and long.

In the end, Reece had never played with his little brother, not unless he counted their awkward attempts to kick a football around a backyard, during his infrequent visits south. His mother had never brought the new baby home to Warringa. She’d stayed in Cairns.

In later years, Reece learned that she’d had post-natal depression, but even when the depression lifted she hadn’t come home. She’d moved back to Sydney, keeping Tony with her, and leaving Reece with his father.

So...apart from his years away at boarding school, Reece had shared his father’s solitary life, and he understood how a man could reach a point where he accepted isolation and loneliness as his destiny.

He was pretty damn near that point himself. It was certainly too late to expect his old man to change.

But accepting this didn’t ease Reece’s current dilemma. If he was to manage Warringa, including this year’s cattle muster, he couldn’t also look after his father. He was going to need help, and he was going to have to find that help fast.

* * *

To Jess’s surprise, Reece was waiting outside the café when she finished work. He was on the footpath, standing with his hands sunk in his jeans pockets and a bulky shoulder propped against the trunk of a coconut palm. Filtered sunlight lent his black hair the sheen of crow’s feathers. With the additional bonus of his coal-dark eyes, his craggy cheekbones and a faint shadow of beard, he looked frighteningly attractive.

She didn’t want an attractive man in her life, so it was perverse of her to care that this hunky guy always seemed to catch her looking her worst. This time, she was in her chef’s gear with her hair yanked back off her face, unattractive trousers, a smeared white jacket and sensible lace-up shoes.

‘G’day,’ Reece said with a slow smile.

‘Hello, Reece.’

His smile lingered. ‘Has anyone told you, you make a mean steak sandwich?’

Jess’s jaw dropped. ‘When did you eat at this café?’

‘My father and I had lunch here.’

She remembered now—in the middle of the lunch-time rush, her boss had grudgingly passed on a customer’s compliments.

‘Best steak sandwich he’s ever had,’ Joel had grunted, but Jess had been mega busy at the time and hadn’t given it another thought.

Now, she couldn’t help wondering why Reece was still hanging around. He wasn’t stalking her, surely?

‘So I guess that means your dad’s out of hospital,’ she said quickly. ‘How is he?’

‘Not too bad, thanks. Right now, he’s relaxing at the motel, enjoying the air-conditioning and the pay TV.’

‘I can imagine. I’m glad he’s OK.’

‘Well, he’s not totally OK.’ Reece switched his gaze to the distant horizon where the calm waters of the Coral Sea met the sky. Blue on blue. He turned back to her. ‘Were you heading somewhere now?’

‘I’m off to the day-care centre to collect Rosie.’

‘Walking?’

Jess hesitated. She liked Reece—probably liked him too much—and she certainly appreciated everything he’d done for her and for Rosie, but she had to be careful. She wasn’t sure if he was trying to chat her up, and she couldn’t afford to give him the wrong idea.

To her surprise, his dark eyes took on a nervous flicker. His throat worked and he shrugged awkwardly. ‘If that sounded like a pick-up line, it wasn’t what I meant.’

Gosh, had he read her mind? Feeling just a little confused, she smiled. ‘The day-care’s this way. Let’s go.’

Reece fell in beside her and, after a short stretch of silence, he said, ‘I was wondering if you planned to shop for the white goods today.’

Ah...so his interest was purely practical. Jess squashed a ridiculous ripple of disappointment. ‘No, I won’t be shopping for those things today.’ The sad truth was that, for the time being, she would have to make do with a picnic ice chest and hand washing or the Laundromat, but she was too proud to admit this to Reece.

Now, however, he stopped abruptly, and once again he shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

They were standing near the fence of a vividly tropical garden, and afterwards, whenever Jess remembered this occasion, she could recall every detail as if the moment had been imprinted on her.

The hum of traffic half a block away...

The heady scent of jasmine...

The industrious buzzing of bees...

Reece’s nervousness and the way his face pulled into an awkward grimace...

‘Is something the matter, Reece?’

His funny-sad smile should not have sent her insides tumbling.

‘I’ve a suggestion I’d like to put to you,’ he said. ‘I think it could help you, but I don’t know if you’ll like it.’

Immediately, Jess was shaking her head. ‘If you’re thinking about lending me money, forget it. I couldn’t possibly accept.’

‘It’s not a loan.’

She frowned. ‘What’s your suggestion, then?’

‘A job.’

‘But...I’ve got a job.’

‘I know, so this may not suit, but maybe if I explain...’

Jess nodded, as curious as a fish rising to the bait. ‘OK.’

Reece swallowed. ‘The thing is, I need someone to keep an eye on my father, so I’m going to have to hire some help.’

‘A nurse?’

‘No, not really a nurse. More like a housekeeper. Someone to cook and look after the house and just be there at the homestead. If I can’t find anyone suitable, my only alternative is to hire a contract mustering team and let them take care of the cattle business while I look after Dad. I can’t possibly manage both jobs.’

‘I—I see.’ Jess certainly sympathised with his dilemma.

Reece cleared his throat. ‘I’d pay you well.’

Her insides were fluttering like leaves in a high wind. ‘And this—this housekeeper—would she live at the homestead?’

‘Yes, but it’s a big house. If you came, you’d have your own room and bathroom and a sleep-out right beside you that could be Rosie’s nursery.’

Obviously, he’d thought it all out.

And Jess couldn’t deny she was sorely tempted. Wow...if she took this job, she wouldn’t have to pay for her food and rent,
and
she’d still be earning money. She could make inroads on those awful debts...

It was incredibly tempting.

Too tempting.

Surely, it had to be a tempting trap.

Her mind raced, weighing up pros and cons. The financial benefits were very clear, and she would quite enjoy the housekeeping and cooking, and she wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on Reece’s dad.

On the downside, she would be living with Reece—and while she felt an unwise thrum of excitement at that thought, she knew she had to be sensible. Reece was so muscly and tantalisingly good-looking,
and
he was thoroughly nice, but his combined attributes presented a dangerous package.

Only last night, she’d reminded herself that she had to avoid this kind of man-trap. Going out there with Reece, living miles from anywhere, more or less alone with him, could be great fun, but it would also create all kinds of relationship dangers. She had to be sensible. Had to remember her plan to get on top of her problems before she risked another romance.