Fool Me Once

by Karly Lane

  This was the first time he’d been in the New England region of New South Wales, and its vast national parks and rugged, ancient mountains had touched something inside him. Brent had had his eye on a place that had been up for sale for a while now and he’d been trying to convince Michael to branch out down this way with the business, but until Michael had seen it with his own eyes, he hadn’t truly appreciated the beauty of the place.

  It wasn’t just nature that was blowing his mind on this trip, he conceded as his gaze followed the gentle curves of Georgie’s body as she dozed in the warm autumn sunshine. What was it about her? Her honey-blonde hair wasn’t styled in any kind of fancy cut, like the women he usually associated with. Last night it had been pinned back at the nape of her neck, but today she’d left it loose, the natural curl in it falling just below her shoulders. He suspected Georgie Henderson didn’t spend a lot of time in a hair salon, and the lighter highlights he could see were more than likely courtesy of the sun rather than hairdressing chemicals.

  She was shorter than any women he’d previously dated. Not that there were that many—dating wasn’t something he’d done much of in the past couple of years. Taking out the women his mother suggested didn’t count as real dates. He only did it because it was easier than arguing with her. Georgie’s head came to just under his chin. She brought out the possessive male in him; he had to smirk at that. Christ, he couldn’t believe he’d gone to a B&S and got into a fight … at his age. He was beginning to wonder if he’d fallen into a time warp or something. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done so many out-of-character things, and all within the space of twenty-four hours. What scared him the most about the realisation was that he kind of liked it.

  Maybe he’d been a little stalkerish, tracking her down and knocking on her motel door, but he wasn’t a man who believed in letting an opportunity slip by if he sensed it might be important. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but somehow he was sure Georgie was important. Nothing about their time together since had suggested otherwise. In fact, the opposite was true. With each minute that went by he could feel the certainty solidifying inside him.

  She was amazing. Everything about her fascinated him, from her dry sense of humour to that stubborn determination he could read in her eyes. She was beautiful in a clean, healthy, outdoorsy way, and she stirred something to life within him that had lain dormant for a very long time.

  He had no idea where this thing between them was going, but he intended to do everything in his power to see it through.

  Michael was in his element. He seemed comfortable and sat back, relaxed among the elegant furnishings and romantic candlelight. While Georgie wasn’t a total country hick, she didn’t dine out in restaurants and she didn’t drive swanky new cars. Her roots were country through and through and she could see the gap between them beginning to widen.

  A fire had been lit in the fireplace behind him and Georgie watched the glow reflect through the red wine in their glasses.

  ‘Tell me what’s going through that head of yours, Georgie Henderson,’ he said, snagging her gaze across the small table.

  ‘I’m just wondering what you’re doing with me,’ she finally admitted quietly.

  ‘I thought that was obvious.’ He grinned, raising an eyebrow.

  ‘Other than that,’ she corrected.

  ‘What’s the problem?’ he asked calmly, once he realised she was serious.

  Biting her lip, she wondered how to broach the subject delicately, before giving up. She would just be herself and come right out and say it.

  ‘Is this some kind of “see how the other half live” fling?’ His eyes seemed to harden, but she ploughed on. ‘Come on, you saw my car, while you, on the other hand, drive around in a vehicle that costs as much as a house out here. With your looks and money, you could have any woman you want, and I can’t imagine why you’d find anything about me interesting, which confuses me.’

  He sat back in his chair, watching her. She’d seen his jaw clench throughout her observations, but he didn’t comment straightaway.

  ‘I didn’t pick you for a class snob, Georgie,’ he finally said, reaching for his glass and taking a sip.

  Raising her eyebrows in surprise, she folded her arms and rested them on the table in front of her. ‘Me?’

  ‘You’re accusing me of having what? Too much money? And that somehow means I’m supposed to only be attracted to women who are rich?’

  ‘I didn’t say that.’

  ‘You think I care what kind of car someone drives or where they live?’

  ‘I don’t know, I guess that’s what I’m trying to work out.’

  ‘I may have money now, but I’ve worked hard for what I’ve got. My family has money, but that has nothing to do with me. It belongs to my stepfather and I don’t intend to ever take a single cent of his money.’

  Georgie picked up on the hardening of his tone when he mentioned his stepfather and stored it away to think about later. ‘All right, so you’re a self-made man. You’re still the complete opposite of me.’

  ‘Then it might surprise you to know that I grew up on a property in Queensland. When my father died, my mother moved us to the city and remarried. I may have done most of my growing up in the city, but I’ve never been able to get the country out of my blood. We’re not as different as you may think.’

  She thought it wise not to comment. He couldn’t even see how opposite-end-of-the-spectrum they were. It seemed that if you had enough money, you were able to ignore small details like that. She doubted he’d ever known what it was like to live the way she’d grown up, with debt hanging over his head or to worry about how to put food on the table for your family.

  ‘Tell me about the place you manage,’ he said, changing the subject when she didn’t comment further.

  ‘At the moment we run beef but I’m trying to convince the owner to set up a farm stay as a side business.’

  ‘He’s not interested?’ Michael asked curiously.

  ‘It’s not so much that he’s not interested,’ she hedged. ‘He’s old school, you know?’ she said, eyeing him levelly. ‘He’s always been a cattleman, just like his dad and granddad before him. Farm stays are something completely out of his frame of experience.’

  ‘It sounds interesting. What made you think about heading in the farm-stay direction?’

  Georgie felt herself relax a little. His interest seemed genuine and they were back on a safe topic. ‘Funnily enough, it was Shannon who got me onto it.’ She grinned. ‘There’d been a big wedding back home and accommodation was really scarce—everything close by had been booked out and Shannon volunteered my place up to billet a family with a couple of kids. They’d come from the city and hadn’t really had any kind of farming experience before, and I don’t know, we just had so much fun. I’d never really thought about the things I do every day as activities, but these kids couldn’t get enough of collecting eggs or watching the dogs work the cattle … just everyday stuff. They ended up staying an extra night and we had a bonfire and cooked damper and made billy tea … It was awesome. It got me thinking that maybe there was a possibility we could add an extra income onto the place—especially when things get tight during bad seasons. It’d be good to have at least some kind of income coming in then.’

  ‘I agree, it sounds like it has great potential. Whereabouts is this?’

  ‘Just outside of a little town called Timboora.’

  ‘Is it nearby? Your place?’

  She shrugged slightly as she took a sip of her wine, relishing its warmth as it slid down her throat. ‘About three hours’ drive.’

  ‘Have you decided to stay?’ he asked, and Georgie sensed a wariness lingering behind his casual comment.

  ‘I guess there’s nothing my farmhand can’t handle,’ she said.

  She was surprised when he added, ‘But?’

  ‘But it’s hard to let go of the reins, I guess.’ She smiled self-consciously.

  ‘I get it,’ he said
with a nod. ‘Would it be rude to invite myself out to your place? I could be a guinea-pig farm-stay guest,’ he said, watching her sip her wine.

  Georgie eyed him doubtfully. ‘You want to come and stay at my place?’

  ‘As a paying guest,’ he added. ‘I wouldn’t expect you to put me up without paying.’

  Georgie couldn’t ignore the hint of excitement that had sprung to life at his suggestion, despite the little voice that questioned her sanity. This was not like her at all. In fact, this was something Shannon would do, which should have been a flashing red light.

  ‘You’re more than welcome to come out and stay.’ She heard the words, and she wasn’t entirely sure she’d actually said them out loud until he broke into a relieved smile. Oh well, too late to back out now.

  ‘Great. I was only booked into my room one more night, and unless you particularly wanted to stay in yours for an extra day, why don’t we head off to your place tomorrow morning?’

  She was fairly sure she wouldn’t miss her motel. ‘Sounds good to me.’

  ‘So, the only decision left to make is,’ he said, lowering his voice to an octave that sent goosebumps up her arms, ‘your place or mine?’

  ‘Hmm, let me think?’ she hedged. ‘Squishy shower and wet-dog smell, or spa bath and room service? Wow … that’s a really difficult decision to make.’

  ‘Mine it is, then. Let’s get out of here.’

  Five

  As they drove the next day, Michael held her hand. It was a new experience for her, and one she was beginning to like a bit too much. He was working his way further and further into her lonely heart every minute. It was almost as though they were a couple, and it was all too easy to envision her future with him in it. That thought alone scared her senseless. In all her dreaming of the future there’d never been anyone else in the picture. It had always focused on buying back Tamban. She hadn’t really got further than that.

  As they rounded a bend, Georgie felt her excitement grow. ‘Here it is, Stoney Creek.’

  Driving through the gates, she pulled the car over and turned off the engine.

  Michael climbed out and scanned the view before him. As she walked around the ute to join him he pulled her in front of him, circling her waist, and rested his chin on her head. ‘This is one beautiful piece of land. How big is it?’

  ‘Around twelve hundred hectares, or close to three thousand acres in the old scale,’ she answered with quiet pride.

  This place had been like a balm to her raw grief. It had helped ease the pain of losing not only her dad but also her home. That last year of uni had been a terribly hard one and there had been times when she hadn’t been sure she was going to make it, but she had. Somehow. Guilt still shadowed the pain of remembering though.

  She forced the thoughts away.

  It was funny how Michael had assumed earlier that she’d used her degree to go into the corporate or government sector. It wasn’t a far-fetched assumption, she supposed. Graduates with her degree were employed across a wide scope of both private and business sectors. That had never been her plan though. She’d applied for a position, freshly graduated, right here at Stoney Creek. Her friends had thought she was crazy.

  ‘You’ve got a degree, Georgie. Why would you take a job as a farm labourer?’ She understood why they thought she’d lost her mind, but at the time she’d just needed something to take her mind off everything she’d so recently lost and all the dreams that had been stolen from her.

  Harry Tompkins had been a godsend. He was a gruff, no-nonsense, hardworking bushman, born and raised on Stoney Creek, but he also had a heart of gold and had seen something in Georgie that she hadn’t seen herself.

  ‘How long have you been on this place?’ Michael asked.

  ‘Just going on four years.’

  ‘How does it work with the owner? Are they hands-on, or do they let you have the run of the place?’

  ‘If it were up to Harry, he’d never have hired a manager.’ She smiled ruefully. ‘I originally started here as a general farmhand, but after the first twelve months Harry’s health started to really decline. He’s eighty-nine,’ she added. ‘Not that you’d have known it, the old bugger worked harder than someone half his age.’

  ‘So he worked this place up until recently?’

  Georgie nodded. ‘It wasn’t until his daughter and doctor stepped in and forced his hand that he put me on as manager.’

  ‘Doesn’t sound like he’d be the kind to go willingly?’

  ‘He isn’t. He had a fall and that pretty much sealed his fate.’ It still made her sad when she thought about that time. She’d been on the sidelines for much of it, feeling torn between excitement that she would have a chance to manage the place, and despair when she listened to Harry’s daughter badgering him to leave the property. She understood her concern, she really did. Harry wasn’t a young man and farming was hard work. Her nagging came from concern and love, but her father was a proud man and it hurt to watch him lose so much of his independence after the fall.

  Losing control over things you had worked so hard to create was a pain she knew all too well.

  She’d watched her own father lose something he’d dedicated his life to. Although for him it was more that he gave up and watched it all fall apart. By the time he cared enough to feel bad, it was too late. She could relate more to Harry and his situation. She’d had to stand by, helpless to do anything, while her future had been ripped away from her and sold off.

  Harry had returned to Melbourne with his daughter, intending to come back to Stoney Creek and retire once his hip had healed, but every time it seemed to be getting better, something else would flare up. It was almost as though once he stopped, age decided to sneak up on him and drag him down. It was so unfair.

  ‘I think if he had a say in it, he’d still be here, looking over my shoulder and telling me what I was doing wrong.’ She smiled sadly. ‘He’s in Melbourne, stuck in some aged care home. I don’t think he’ll be coming back.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Georgie. He sounds like an amazing man.’

  ‘Yeah. He is. He’s like a grandfather figure, I guess. And a friend. He didn’t have any family that wanted the farm, and he didn’t want it sold off.’ She’d asked him once why he’d chosen her, and he’d said because no one else wanted to work for the lousy pay he’d been offering, but later, after his fall, he told her in a rare moment of emotion that he’d chosen her for the job because he’d seen in her the same passion and love for the land that he had, and he knew his place would be safe in her hands. It was the greatest compliment she’d ever received.

  ‘I reckon he was lucky to have you,’ Michael said, his arms tightening around her in sympathy. ‘So this was your plan? After university? To manage a property?’

  ‘Not exactly,’ she hedged, then sighed when she realised he wasn’t prying, not really. He seemed genuinely interested. ‘My plans for after I graduated changed … unexpectedly. I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to do, but after a few years managing this place, I figured I could use it as a stepping stone.’

  ‘Stepping stone to what?’

  ‘To …’ She stopped. She rarely talked about her dream. Somehow it always sounded so far-fetched—unattainable. ‘Buy my family property back one day.’

  Michael looked at her, a little surprised, and she hurried on. ‘One day. I mean, it’s just one of those stupid dreams you have,’ she said with a helpless little wave of her hand.

  ‘It doesn’t sound stupid. What makes it seem so unattainable?’

  ‘It just is.’ She eased out of his arms and forced a smile to her lips. ‘It’s a long story, and I’d rather not go into it now.’ She knew by the strange way he looked at her that he really wanted to know more, but thankfully he didn’t push her on it. She wasn’t sure why she’d even told him that much.

  ‘Well, the place looks great. Good feed. Does it have water?’

  Georgie smiled, relieved that he was happy to move on. ‘The river runs th
e length of the property. It’s one of the main attractions. It’s perfect for fishing and swimming.’

  ‘I can see why it would be a hit with visitors. This is a really beautiful property, Georgie.’ The admiration she detected in his voice made her feel ridiculously proud. They got back into the ute and headed down the long drive towards the main house. The house was old but she adored it. It had been the first thing she’d fallen in love with the day she came here to meet with Harry about the farmhand job. The original house had been built more than a hundred years before and made up the rear of the current home. Over the years, as the family had grown, the owners had expanded the small farmhouse and had built an extension—effectively a second house—joined to the original with a double-pitched roofline and wide timber verandah wrapped around the entire building to make one large house. Over the years the house had been lived in by different family members and experienced more than a few lean years when its maintenance was the least of their concerns compared to other farm priorities. The years of wear were beginning to show.

  She parked the ute and instantly they were greeted by a black-and-tan wriggling bundle of excited canine.

  ‘Someone missed you by the looks of it,’ Michael commented as he stood back and watched her greet the kelpie affectionately.

  ‘This is Titch,’ she said, rubbing the dog’s head between her hands. ‘Oh, I missed you too,’ she said, laughing at the dog’s raucous behaviour. ‘Come on inside,’ she said, straightening.

  ‘You don’t lock your doors?’ Michael asked as they crossed the verandah and she opened the screen door of the farmhouse.

  ‘Matt’s here somewhere,’ she shrugged as she looked around.

  After Harry left, the other part-time farmhand he’d hired left too. Without notice. Apparently he didn’t like the fact she was given the manager job when there’d been a perfectly good man who could have had it. She’d been working herself into the ground when Matt had turned up on her doorstep one day, asking for a job. After a week’s trial, Georgie knew he’d be perfect for the place. His friendly, carefree character and quiet efficiency allowed him to handle whatever work needed to be done without her having to tell him what to do.