"Oh, like what?" Jemima bit her lip. What is coming?
"The kids."
"How can they be going too well?"
Ned looked up and held her gaze. "You are so good with them. You know when to praise, and you know when to be firm, and I appreciate it very much."
"So I don't understand why there's a problem. I love looking after them, and I love spending time with them." Jemima smiled and tried to lighten the atmosphere that was quite tense. "Even playing with Ryan and his little cars in the dirt. Not to mention hide-and-go-seek." But the memory of playing hide and seek didn't bring a change to his expression.
"That's the problem. They love you."
"Oh? That's a problem?"
Ned reached over and took her hand. Jemima looked down at his tanned fingers holding hers.
"You're such a good person, and you've taken family life on board so well. Never in my wildest dreams did I think it would work so well. Even after a couple of months. We're all settled and happy. Happier than I ever thought would be possible again."
"That's good," she said softly.
"I want to ask you something." Ned's gaze locked with hers, and Jemima's breath stilled.
Surely not. Surely he wasn't going to suggest that they make this a real marriage? Confusion swirled through her. What would she say? What did she think about that? She stared down at his hand, and she knew that she'd agree in a heartbeat. Not only did she love his children, her feelings for Ned McCormack confused her. Since the afternoon they'd played hide and seek with Ryan and Ned had kissed her in the linen cupboard, she'd tried hard to keep her feelings on a platonic level.
But it was hard, and Jemima knew she was fighting a losing battle. Maybe I won't have to fight it anymore. A little tendril of hope took root in her heart.
Self-protection. It was the first time for many years that she'd been accepted for who she was and not what she looked like.
"What did you want to ask me, Ned?" His brown eyes were dark and shadowed, and she squeezed his hand when his eyebrows lowered in a frown. "Don't be scared to say what you think."
"Good. I was worried how you'd take it."
Jemima bit her lip as she waited. Her heartbeat hitched up a notch as that tendril grew a little bit more.
"I want you to help me with an exit plan."
"A what?" Her fairytale dreams flew out the window at his brisk tone, and the little tendril of hope withered.
"An exit plan." Ned let go of her hand and fired up the computer. "I noted down some ideas when I was in here the other night."
"Yes?" Jemima folded her arms.
"When the year is up, the kids are going to be upset." The shadows deepened in his eyes, and she resisted the urge to reach out and take his hand back. "They've already suffered enough loss in their lives, and I don't want it to be so hard when you leave."
"Fair enough. So what is this exit plan?"
Ned turned and looked at the computer screen, and Jemima looked past his shoulder. There was a list of bulleted dot points, but the font was too small for her to read.
Ned swivelled back around on his chair.
"I think that the affection needs to stay with me. If you pretend that you're their school teacher, even though you're living here twenty-four seven, it should be easy to remember."
"I don't understand what you're saying. Affection stays with you?"
"Yes, aren't there rules for how much a teacher can touch a child these days?"
Jemima nodded. "Yes, of course there are."
"So if you stick to those types of rules-after all, since this is just a job to you-I'll give the cuddles and the kisses, and the kids will come to me more. Hopefully, they'll see you more as the one who looks after their practical needs."
Jemima could see the sense in what he was saying, but it wasn't going to be easy. "I can do that, but don't you think they might wonder why I don't cuddle them anymore? I'm supposed to be their new mother, Ned."
"I know. I've thought of nothing else for the past few days. But I think it's the only way we can do this. Will you try?"
"Of course I will. After all, you're the one who's calling the shots here. And you're the one who'll be left with the mess at the end of the year." Jemima drained her coffee cup. "If that's all, I have some things to do."
Ned caught her hand as she reached for the tray. "I don't expect you to work so hard, you know. I think we've got through the hardest part and convinced everyone."
Jemima managed to summon up a smile as bitterness tainted her stomach. "Yes, I think we have."
But she disagreed that they'd gotten through the hardest part. There were still nine months to go.
Chapter Fifteen
The following month passed quickly. Ned and Jemima had been married for almost four months, and the farm was looking good. The wheat was growing, and the cattle were fattening quickly. The girls had settled into school and were making friends, and their second term at Spring Downs School was beginning. Autumn was moving into winter with its misty and cool mornings, and Ned had started to light the wood fire at night. Ryan had started at the preschool, and Jemmy was going to the CWA hall for cooking lessons each Friday, much to the amusement of the CWA ladies. The meals at the farm over the past weeks, if not gourmet quality, had been tasty and nourishing and edible-at least.
And filling. Ned hadn't complained, and the kids had actually started to clear their plates each night.
That was satisfying.
The only thing that was bothering her was sharing a bed with Ned each night.
That wasn't satisfying.
Since the night she'd somehow breached the pillow wall and wrapped herself around him-heat still flushed into her cheeks every time she thought about it-she was so conscious of staying on her side of the bed that she woke herself up about ten times each night, checking that she was still on her side. They'd never mentioned it after Ned had taken Ryan out for a drink that night.
And, of course, Lucy was right onto Jemima.
"So are you sharing a bed?"
Ned had gone to town with Liam, to an alliance meeting, and he'd dropped Jemima and the three children over to Lucy's house for her famous pizza. He was going to call in and collect them on his way home. The two women watched as darkness stole over the paddocks outside. Jemima felt the blush run up her neck and into her cheeks as her cousin stared at her. Lucy had poured them each a wine, and they were sitting in the enclosed back porch watching another spectacular sunset. Garth was too busy to go to the meeting, and he was engrossed in farm accounts in his office. James was on his play mat, the only sound his occasional goo. So a perfect time for girl-talk, according to Lucy.
"Yes … we sleep in the same bedroom."
"You know what I mean. Are you sleeping together?"
"Yes, I sleep and he sleeps."
"Jeez, Jemmy! Do I have to spell it out?" Lucy's eyes were sparkling with naughtiness. Give her a wine and she always got too personal. "Have you done the deed?"
"What?" Jemima burst out laughing. "You sound like you did when you were sixteen and first falling for Garth. But no-not that it's any of your business-we haven't ‘done the deed,' as you so rudely ask." She shook her head and sipped her wine as the kids' voices drifted in from the spare bedroom where they were watching a movie. "And we won't."
"Why not? He's a red-blooded man, and you have a need, don't you?"
"Honestly, Lucy. You're awful when you drink wine. I thought you were off it while you were breast feeding?"
"James is half on the bottle now, so I can have the occasional wine. I couldn't keep up with him, hungry little man." Lucy reached down and ran her fingers over the baby's downy head.
"He's certainly growing." Jemima looked over at her chubby nephew lying on a colourful play mat.
"So?" Lucy tipped her head to the side.
"So what?"
"You have needs, don't you?"
"Really, Lucy! Well, yes, of course I do. But that's not part of the deal."
"What would it hurt? Have you talked about it?"
"No, we haven't mentioned it. Jeez, Lucy, I feel disloyal to Ned talking about this."
"Why? He's not your husband?"
"He is, legally."
"But he's not really your husband, especially if you're not having sex. I don't think you guys thought this through well enough."
"Ssh. Keep your voice down." Jemima swallowed. Not because she was embarrassed by Lucy's suggestion but because she'd lain in the same bedroom as Ned last night, thinking the same thing. Lucy had just put her thoughts into words. "I don't want Garth to hear."
"He won't hear. He's absorbed in his cattle prices. How a man can sit there for hours and look at weights and figures, I'll never know."
"It's your livelihood." Jemima was pleased that Lucy had got off the subject of her sex life, but the relief was short-lived.