His Outback Nanny (Prickle Creek)(18)

Ned's smile was rueful. "You've hit the jackpot with us."

"Ned!" Jemima shook her head emphatically. "How many times do I have to  tell you that there is something in it for me? When I prove that I'm  here to stay, and I belong here, and I get a job at the school, I'll be  able to say I told you so!"

"I know. But listen, if there's anything you need, just ask. Trust me,  okay?" Ned's dark eyes held hers, and those silly nerve endings  skittered away again.

"There is one thing," she said. "Two, actually."

"Yep?" He tilted his head to the side.

"I want to buy a couple of horses and put them here on the farm. Kelsey  and I can go riding, and we can help you around the place, too."

"That's fine. As long as you take them with you at the end of the year."

"Or if Kelsey gets attached, I'll sell you one."

"Deal." Ned held his hand out, and Jemima looked at it for a moment  before she took his large calloused hand in hers. She couldn't ignore  the spark and couldn't forget that kiss … but this was a business  arrangement. Kisses were not a part of that.

"Deal."





Chapter Twelve


Jemima woke at first light the next morning, but Ned was already gone.  She lay back and looked at the ceiling. The farmhouse was old, and there  were mould patches in the corner of the bedroom where the ceiling met  the cornice. She made a mental note to check the children's bedrooms. It  wasn't healthy to sleep in a mouldy room.

She yawned and thought about rolling over and going back to sleep. It  had taken her ages to fall asleep once Ned had climbed into the other  side of the bed after midnight last night. She'd put the line of pillows  down the middle-and felt silly when she did it. She'd worn her watch to  bed-as well as a long-sleeved cotton top over her long pyjama bottoms.  If she accidentally threw the sheet off in her sleep, at least she'd be  decent.

Hot-but decent.

The bed was so big there was room for about six people between them, but  it still felt strange sharing a bed with someone she didn't know very  well. She'd pretended to be asleep when Ned had said a quiet good night.  It had been a long time since Jemima had slept with anyone. She closed  her eyes. It had been two years since she'd had a sort-of relationship  with one of the photographers in Sydney. And Todd had only stayed with  her a couple of nights before he'd moved away to Melbourne, anyway.

What if she snored? What if she dribbled in her sleep? Or talked in her  sleep? She'd lain there and huffed a sigh as Ned's breathing had evened  out within minutes of him getting into bed. He was sound asleep, and yet  she'd lain there for ages with her fingers clenched. It would be so  easy to roll over and snuggle up against him, inhale that fresh  masculine smell, wrap her arms around his strong shoulders.         

     



 

Oh God, how many nights was she going to have to lie here and fight the desire coursing through her?

The sound of the fridge door opening brought Jemima awake as she drifted  back off to sleep. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and  padded into the kitchen.

"Oh, no you don't, young man." She swooped down and took the two litre  milk container from Ryan as he tipped it down the sink. Ned had warned  her about that happening. He'd solved the mystery of the disappearing  milk earlier in the week. Ryan had decided to become independent and get  his own cereal. Apparently, it was easier and less messy to tip most of  the milk down the kitchen sink before he poured the small portion  remaining onto his cereal.

"But I want my cornflakes," Ryan protested.

"Did you wash your face and hands before you came to the breakfast table?" Jemima asked sternly.

"No." The bottom lip wavered.

"Well, come on and we'll sort you out, and then you can have your cornflakes," she said confidently.

Cornflakes and milk, she could handle. It was the thought of dinner tonight that had Jemima tied up in knots.



The washing was on the line, drying in the end-of-summer sun, the two  girls had helped Jemima whip through the house and put things away, and  the dishwasher had been run and emptied. She'd found a note in the  kitchen from Ned that said:

Will stay out in the paddocks all day. Have packed a feed. See you all at dinner.

Jemima was grateful. Even though she'd been coming over to the house to  help out for the past month, she'd only visited for a few hours each day  and hadn't done much more than play with Ryan and hang the washing that  Ned had done the night before. This was the first time she'd tidied up.  Before the wedding, it would have felt like imposing.

"Jemmy, can we unpack some of the boxes in the hall?" Kelsey called out  to her after they'd eaten the simple sandwiches she'd managed to make  for lunch. "Daddy has been too busy, and my drawing pencils are in there  somewhere."

"And my Shopkins!" Gwennie added.

"Um, hang on a sec. Just let me finish in the laundry." Indecision  flitted through Jemima. Should she let the girls into the boxes? Or were  they not unpacked for a reason? Ned had been here for a couple of  months; maybe there was a reason he hadn't unpacked them.

Or maybe he'd simply been too busy?

For someone who was usually decisive and used to running her own life,  Jemima's mind was fraught with indecision. She chewed her lip as she  tried to decide, but by the time she came back into the hallway, it was  too late, anyway. Kelsey was standing on a chair and had the lid of the  top box open.

"Be careful. Here, let me." Jemima helped Kelsey down from the chair.  Gwennie was peering into a box at floor level at the other end of the  hall. As the little girl pulled out a couple of large packages wrapped  in blue tissue paper, Jemima felt uneasy. Her instincts were telling her  to close the boxes up and check with Ned first.

Over the noise of the television where Ryan was firmly ensconced  watching cartoons, she heard the creak of the back screen door, and she  hurried into the kitchen. Ned was standing at the sink, filling a glass  with water.

"Hello. Would you like some lunch?" Jemima looked across to the bread  bin. There was just enough bread left for a couple of sandwiches.

"No thanks, I'm fine. I just came in to see if I had an email from  Cartwrights. I was waiting for some drench. If it's in, I'll have to  drive into town."

"Could we go for you? I could take the kids in for a drive. We need bread."

"In the Audi?" Ned's grin was wide. "Sticky fingers and all that."

Jemima's Audi was in the hay shed where Ned had insisted on covering it  with a tarpaulin. The sooner she traded it for something more suitable,  the easier it would be.

"Yes, why not? It's a vehicle to get from Point A to Point B. I meant to list it on Gumtree, but I haven't had time."

"Because … " Ned's voice trailed away.

"Look at me. Look what I found! I'm a princess." Gwennie stood in the  doorway, her little face beaming and a frothy bridal veil trailing to  the floor from the top of her head. Jemima's stomach sank, and her mouth  dried as Ned's expression closed.

"I told her not to touch it. I told her it was Mummy's." Kelsey stood behind her.

Ned lifted one hand and then dropped it to his side as he stared at Gwennie.

"I'm sorry, Daddy." Her bottom lip quivered, and her eyes filled with tears.

"Don't cry, sweetie. I'm sure Daddy thinks you look lovely. Just like  your mummy did." Jemima walked across to her and crouched down beside  her. "It's a beautiful thing and something that needs to be treasured.  How about we take it off and wrap it up carefully and put it somewhere  safe?"         

     



 

Gwennie nodded, and Jemima lifted the white veil from her head.

Ned turned and headed for the office. "If the drench is in and you could  go to town for me, that would be great." He disappeared down the hall  without a backward glance.

Oh, Ned. You should have spoken to Gwennie.

"I didn't … didn't"-hiccup-"mean to make Daddy cross."

Jemima gave the little girl a hug. "Daddy's not cross. He had to look at  something on his computer, that's all. And guess what? We might have to  go into town for a drive, and then we can call in and see Lucy and  James. How would you like that?"

A wide smile broke through the tears as Gwennie nodded. "Yes, please!"

"And a milkshake?" Kelsey asked.

"If Con's milk bar is open. I don't know if it will be on a Saturday afternoon."

"I do miss McDonalds." Kelsey took the veil from Jemima. "I'll put this  back in the tissue paper. Then where will we put it so it's safe?"

Jemima jumped as Ned's voice came from behind her. "Put it on top of the box. I need to get in and unpack the rest."

She smiled as he ruffled Gwennie's hair on the way past. "Want to come  and feed the chooks with me?" He took Gwennie's hand, and Kelsey and  Jemima shared an understanding look that was very mature for an eleven  year old.