"Daddy? I'm starving." Ryan's plaintive cry had Ned looking at his watch, and he blinked when he realised it was way past lunchtime. His phone had rung nonstop as he'd tried to work, and as he'd worried about the calls, he'd not focused on the task at hand. It was almost two o'clock. Jemmy would be arriving soon, and the house was in chaos. If he shut the doors, she wouldn't be able to see the unmade beds and most of the mess. He didn't want to frighten her off before they'd even discussed her idea.
"Sorry, mate. Just about fixed now. You've been a good helper." Despite the fact that he'd achieved nothing he'd planned to do today, he couldn't help the grin when he looked at his boy. Just as well he'd finally fixed the pump, because Ryan had been playing in the red dirt. He'd need a bath-and food-when they got back to the house.
As they drove towards the back gate of the house paddock, a puff of dust rising above the front gate indicated Jemima's arrival. Ned got out of the car, opened the gate to the house yard, drove through, and then got out again and closed it. It would be so much easier when Ryan was big enough to help him around the place.
Don't wish their lives away, Ned.
Cath's voice echoed through his head. He hadn't coped well with the kids when they were babies: the nappy changing, the night crying, and the sicking up. Cath had gently chastised him once when he'd said he couldn't wait until Kelsey was a toddler. Don't wish their lives away, darling.
But when Ryan had been a baby, Cath had been in the hospital on life support, and then her injuries had taken her away from them. Ryan didn't remember her at all. He'd been too little.
Now Ned closed his eyes and clenched his jaw.
What am I going to do? What is the best thing to do for the kids?
…
Jemima pulled up at the front of the McCormack farmhouse. She'd never been down to the homestead before, but she'd driven past the gate many times. The McCormack farm was one of the first places on the Come-by-Chance road, and the house looked as though it was still the original. The gently sloping tin roof overhung the wide verandah in a gentle bullnose curve. The wrought iron lace that filled the corner was rusty and full of cobwebs. An old house, neglected, but full of promise. The driveway circled a centre garden edged with rocks, but the rose bushes were withered and brown, with only a few faded blooms hanging sadly from a couple of bushes at one end. Jemima loved being in a garden. Both she and Lucy had inherited the love-of-flowers gene from Gran, but lucky Lucy had also inherited Gran's cooking skills, which were sadly lacking from Jemima's repertoire.
She parked the car and took another good look at the house. The timber on the veranda floor was worn, and the paint was peeling on the eaves, too. Ned had his work cut out for him here, as well as out on the farm. She'd noticed that a lot of the fence posts were rotten, and the wire was hanging loose on a couple of the paddocks that fronted the main road.
Jemima opened the door and got out of the car slowly-Liam had taken the farm ute down to the back dam and was working on the pipes, and she'd had to bring her Audi. She felt self-conscious driving such an ostentatious sports car in the district. All it did was reinforce that stupid article in the local paper. When she got home, she was going to list it on Gumtree and buy a more suitable farm vehicle. There was no need to add to the impression that she was some glamorous blow-in. She was a local again. She'd buy a small SUV more suitable for out here in the bush.
There was a dusty farm ute parked at the side of the house, so it looked as though Ned was there. Jemima swallowed and straightened her T-shirt. She had resisted her automatic instinct to dress up to come and meet with Ned. Casual and work-like jeans and T-shirt would help her convince him that this was a good idea. For both of them. Plus, she didn't want it to look like she was trying to come onto him. She'd pushed away that warm feeling that had stayed with her after she'd driven away. It was the first time she'd felt that tug of attraction to a man for a long while. There were more important reasons to help out than the fact that he was a fine-looking man.
She'd given more thought to her idea, and the more she'd thought about it, the more attractive it was.
One: It would fill in her days.
Two: It would give Angie and Liam more privacy if she stayed over at Ned's place.
Three: It would show that she was staying and part of the town and would prove to the school that she was a lot more than a retired fashion model.
Four and the reason that she knew was making her want this so much: Someone would need her. Jemima was a nurturer. That was the main motivation for her wanting to be a school teacher. Liam had Angie, Lucy had Garth and little James, Gran and Pop had each other, Sebastian-well she didn't know about him, but he always seemed busy and happy.
She had no one. Jemima was lonely. Helping Ned would fill the void that she'd hoped the teaching job would have filled. This would be the same but on a smaller scale.
As far as Ned went, she was sure he would welcome her with open arms. It would give him more time to work on the farm, it would-with some discussion-help him with his loan, and she could look after his little boy, do the house chores for him, do the laundry … And maybe he'd let her help out in that poor garden.
Five: There had been a spark between them, and she knew she would enjoy spending time in Ned's company. He was a good man.
A perfect solution for everyone. Surely, Ned had come to that conclusion, too.
So when Jemima tapped on the door and a still serious-faced Ned answered the door, she was taken aback.
"Ssh," he said without the glimmer of a smile. "Ryan's asleep." He gestured to the couch, and Jemima drew a surprised breath. The little boy was sound asleep and covered in red dust.
"He went to sleep in the ute on the way back from the bore, and I didn't have the heart to wake him. He hasn't even had his lunch yet."
Her fingers itched to get a face washer and clean the little boy's face, but she fought it. Jemima kept her head high and ignored the chaos in the house as she walked through the living room. Or she tried to. It was hard to ignore the clothes and toys on the floor and the dirty dishes on every surface. Living alone for so long had made her obsessive about being tidy, and she was forever picking up after Liam at Gran's house and chastising him for being a slob.
But this? This mess was in a league of its own.
Straightening her shoulders, she followed Ned into the office adjacent to the kitchen, and he gestured politely to the chair beside the desk.
"Please sit down." His voice was crisp and business-like.
Her stomach sank. It was going to be just like the job interview at the school. Where she'd been judged and found wanting.
She moved the breakfast cereal box from the spare seat and put it on the floor before she sat down. At least Ned had the grace to look embarrassed and moved it onto the desk.
"Sorry. One of Ryan's bad habits." But still no welcoming smile.
This was a very different Ned to the one she'd had coffee with yesterday. Maybe without the children, he was more serious. Maybe he only put on the happy face when they were around. Jemima was confused, and her self-confidence fled.
He cleared his throat and lifted a piece of paper from the desk without meeting her eyes. The happy anticipation that had filled her since she'd met Gwennie in the library yesterday trickled away.
"So I've done an analysis of your proposition. A plus minus-"
"And interesting," Jemima said. "De Bono's theory."
That got his attention. He lifted his head and met her eye. "Um, is it? I'm not sure what it's called."
Jemima lifted her chin a fraction higher. If he was going to be formal, she would, too. "It is. Carry on."
"Well, in terms of what you've suggested, the pluses certainly are a positive for my consideration."
"That's good."
"But in terms of benefits for you, there's really only the experience with the kids that you can't even put on a resume. I can't afford to pay you, and I wouldn't feel comfortable about that at all."
Jemima leaned forward. "Look, you need a loan. Apparently, you can't get one without me, and you need someone to watch your kids. I can provide the collateral, and I can help care for your kids. I get the experience I need, and you get a nanny. Win-win. It's not like I'm giving you the money"-she hurried to qualify her words-"and it's neighborly. You need a hand. I'm free. And I'm more than happy to help you out."
Ned brushed the back of his hand against his cheek. Jemima stared. Even though there was now a streak of red dust on one cheek, he was clean-shaven, and his hair was a bit tidier. Maybe he'd made an effort because she was coming over.
He was one fine-looking man. She shook herself and ignored the funny feeling in her chest. Nerves, that's all it was. She wanted to do this.