The Outback Cattleman's Hired Wife

by Natalia Elder

  Kirra’s face paled to a deathly hue. ‘Who was that on the phone?’

  ‘A Miss Elise Watson.’

  ‘Elise? Why would she ring me here?’

  ‘Something about an article has to be urgently rewritten by Monday. High-rise -’

  ‘High-rise Property Investments,’ she supplied with reluctance.

  ‘Miss Watson also asked me if the interview was going as well as she’d hoped. Then, she prattled on about how you were convinced that I would make a good human interest story, if nothing sparked between us.’

  ‘Oh Elise.’ She lowered her golden eyelashes to shield her embarrassment.

  He disappeared and returned momentarily with her suitcases in hand.

  Her chair scraped on the tiled floor when she rose to her feet. She met his steely glare with remorse.

  ‘It’s not totally true,’ she said.

  He shifted his weight onto one foot. ‘Isn’t it? Were you planning to ask mother all about the lonely farm widower, then leave discreetly without even having to speak with me?’

  Kirra’s cheek flushed crimson.

  ‘I thought as much. It must have been quite a shock for you to discover mother was gone,’ he bit out. ‘I must admit though, it was very clever of you to gain my curiosity by pretending to want to be my wife and mother to my son. You must be a top journalist on your newspaper, Miss Whitely,’ he said, patronising her. ‘Your editor has already made space for your article according to Miss Watson.’

  Kirra swallowed hard. What he was saying had a familiar ring to it. She’d convinced herself that was why she came, out of respect for Zac’s memory. But after meeting Jared, she found herself wanting to genuinely know more about him for herself, not the newspaper.

  ‘I don’t know why my editor would do such a thing. He approved my two week’s holiday application,’ she explained, then sighed. ‘But then again his motto is that journalists are never on vacation!’

  ‘I think you’d better leave before I start giving you the benefit of the doubt.’

  ‘So you would rather be a lonely widower?’

  ‘Nice try, Miss Whitely. As I’ve said, you must be a very good journalist. You certainly know all the tricks for gleaning information from people.’

  He turned and strode down the hallway.

  With reluctance, Kirra followed him.

  The rain was now pelting down hard in thick, blanketing sheets. Jared’s horse swept its tail from side to side as the rain angled under the awning.

  Jared put down the suitcases and sighed with exasperation. ‘You can’t leave in this weather. It’s too dangerous.’

  Kirra planted her hands on her hips and her chin rose in defiance. ‘Nonsense! I’m a capable driver. I’ve completed a defensive driving course and have driven in the rain before.’

  His cold blue eyes narrowed. ‘The low bridge down the road may be under water by now.’

  ‘What rubbish! The water under all the bridges I passed on the way here were mere streams,’ she countered with more bravado than she felt. Not that she’d taken any notice …

  How could she have thought Jared Glengarry would want a wife? Or worse still, be obliging enough to give her an insight into the type of people who placed ads in the personal column of a newspaper. She must have been out of her mind to listen to Elise’s persuasive banter! Oh Elise, for once why didn’t you engage the brain before shooting your mouth off?

  ‘Things can change quickly here,’ he pointed out in an authoritative tone. ‘The water was almost across the bridge when I rode back. At least wait until I’ve checked it out.’

  Dammit! She wanted to say, ‘No!’ and be done with him, but every cell in her body screamed, ‘Yes!’

  ‘I’ll stay,’ she said.

  It was the sensible thing to do.

  Chapter Two

  JARED SMILED CROOKEDLY, his heart performing what seemed a somersault. It gave him a massive internal jolt, but somehow he remained outwardly calm.

  ‘Wise choice,’ he said, gathering up her suitcases. ‘You’re welcome to use the granny flat to freshen up.’

  With cool efficiency, he led her back into the homestead, opened the door to the granny flat and deposited her suitcases on the bed.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly behind him.

  Tension bunched his shoulder muscles together. It was the first time he’d entered the granny flat since he’d built the extension. He’d had no desire to court any of the young nannies who’d stayed there.

  Some stayed for as little as a week and others a few months, depending how long they took to make advances towards him. He was flattered at first, any man would, but their immaturity and demanding, frivolous natures were a turn-off. Worse still, when they turned their attentions to him, his son was neglected. He’d had no choice but to fire them.

  Suddenly being in the self-contained room with Kirra, he could smell her alluring scent. She smelled like strawberries and lust stirred in his loins.

  Disturbingly, he still wanted her after learning she was here under false pretences. But he hadn’t given her a chance to explain. Maybe, he would when he returned from checking out the bridge.

  And dammit! Those cows needed milking, the rational side of his brain screamed.

  He turned, his gaze softening when he saw how vulnerable and out-of-sorts she looked.

  But he couldn’t worry about that now. ‘I’ll take the Land Cruiser so I can be back within the hour,’ he told her matter-of-factly and then he was gone.

  After taking a shower, Kirra sat on the bed brushing her freshly-washed hair. Dressed in jeans and a cream, long-sleeved t-shirt, she felt infinitely better.

  She took in her surroundings. The room was cosy and decorated tastefully in crimson and apricot. She found that she could relax there for the first time in a long while.

  How many hours had she spent at the office since Zac’s death? She’d never thought about it before now.

  Being out here, out of her comfort zone, wasn’t all that bad.

  As she waited for Jared to return, she began to wonder just how many nannies Caleb had had.

  She remembered when she was growing up how hard it was being an only child with both her parents working. But at least, she’d had both parents come home every night to spend quality time with her.

  For Caleb to lose his mother at five or six years of age, could only be imagined as a devastation.

  And what of Jared losing his wife? Had there been anyone since?

  She’d seen a hint that he wasn’t totally celibate. His jeans had tightened with arousal when he came near her. He’d looked awkward, as if it surprised him, when he’d left abruptly.

  What was that all about?

  He’d looked at her with desire.

  Zac had hardly looked at her like that, even on their wedding day.

  What was so wrong with wanting to be a virgin on her wedding night? The question echoed in her mind for the countless time. She was only nineteen.

  To the older Zac, she was a challenge, a conquest to be won and if he had to marry her so be it. She knew that shortly after, when the honeymoon was over. He’d bragged about it to his best man and it had gotten back to her.

  When she’d berated him about it, he’d said he’d wanted her to look after him, not be his wife. He could have any woman he wanted for sex, he’d boasted. He’d only married her for the conquest and to get himself a clean house! Damn him! She’d married for love.

  Why did she stay with him for six years? She kicked herself again and again, but she’d kept hoping he’d change. That he’d fall in love with her.

  The sound of the driving rain interspersed with the whirr of an engine jolted Kirra out of her reverie.

  Her heart accelerated and her blood zinged around her body. She ran to the front double doors and threw one open.

  Jared drove the Land Cruiser right up to the verandah. He wound down the window.

  ‘The bridge is covered with fast-flowing water. Using it is o
ut of the question. Stay here. I’m going to milk the cows. I’ll be home in a couple of hours.’

  Kirra saluted him, annoyed and deflated by his dominance.

  He grimaced, shifting the gearstick, before he averted his troubled eyes and she instantly regretted her impulsive gesture.

  For a few moments, she watched him turn the vehicle around and drive towards the dairy.

  The cows had started to gather in front of the cylindrical-shaped building. There seemed to be hundreds in the herd.

  How was he going to milk all of them by himself? Kirra wondered.

  Maybe he’d need help, she decided, a lump forming in her throat. It wasn’t in her nature to sit idly by anyway.

  Without a second thought, she strode back inside and hunted around the homestead for a pair of gumboots.

  What was it that he’d said? ‘This ad was the last straw in a problem-filled day.’ He needed her help. He mightn’t want it, but she didn’t care. She had to make amends.

  Kirra found another oilskin coat and gumboots in the laundry. They were smaller than Jared’s so she guessed they might be his mother’s. She told herself that she was only borrowing them and slipped them on. The gumboots turned out to be a little big for her, but she could manage to walk in them.

  Locating the keys to her Subaru on the antique dresser inside the front entrance, she headed out into the rain. Her car wasn’t far. She practically dove into it and slammed the door shut behind her to prevent further water damage to its interior.

  Murky water lapped beneath the Subaru’s chassis. With cold, nerveless fingers, she started the engine and put it into four wheel drive. Bobbing up and down, with the wipers swishing madly across the windscreen, Kirra drove slowly through the water-logged acreage.

  Flicking the headlights on high beam, she spotted the hazy shadow of cattle en masse at the dairy a few hundred metres away. The building was huge, much larger than she’d realised.

  Kirra stopped close to the entrance, her brakes squealing her arrival. Wiping the fog from the inside of the windscreen, she saw fluorescent light illuminating the milking area. She could see several cows were hooked up to automatic milking machines; their udders being relieved of their nutritious contents. They seemed to be moving on a circular platform.

  There was a trough of liquid the cows sloshed through, before they stepped onto the platform, moistening their hooves. She thought they’d slip, but none did.

  Twenty or so cows stood in the fenced-off area awaiting their turn. The rest of the herd stood nearby in the rain. Their short, black and white coats were plastered flat against their huge bodies. Kirra’s heart went out to them, as their large, black eyes blinked woefully at the headlights.

  There was no sign of Jared so she beeped the horn once. The cows that waited in the holding area became agitated and began to move backwards.

  Within seconds, Jared appeared like a notorious bushranger in his hat and coat. He jumped down from the milking platform. His face was grim, contorted with anger, as he strode towards her.

  What had she done now?

  Kirra switched off the headlights and killed the engine, thinking that it might help settle them. It did a little. They stopped moving backwards and she breathed a sigh of relief.

  Within seconds, Jared was at her driver’s side. He tapped at the window.

  Kirra automatically wound it down.

  ‘Jared, I -’

  ‘What were you thinking?’ he thundered over the incessant hiss of the rain. ‘I don’t want a stampede on my hands.’

  Kirra grimaced. ‘I’m sorry. I came to help.’

  ‘Some help! Go back to the homestead.’

  Kirra gripped the steering wheel. ‘No, it’s because of me, you’re running late. I’m sure there’s something I can do.’

  Determined, she opened the door and stepped out before he could rebuke her.

  ‘Show me what you want me to do. I have two capable hands and a brain.’

  His steely-blue eyes met hers with disbelief, as the cows began crowding back into the holding yard behind him.

  ‘Come under shelter, then wait,’ he said without preamble. Then, he disappeared into a side room.

  Kirra did as she was asked. The smell of manure hit her senses full-force and she held her breath. But she couldn’t do that indefinitely, so she exhaled and dealt with it. After the initial shock, she actually found it oddly sweet-smelling like freshly-mown grass when she was growing up. The cows looked magnificent and ever so big. She wasn’t scared of them, but they continued to stay away from her.

  Jared returned quickly with overalls and straw hat in hand.

  ‘Take your coat off,’ he said. ‘Put these on over your clothes.’

  ‘Why? I don’t mind getting my clothes dirty.’

  The cows became agitated again.

  ‘Don’t argue,’ he said on a controlled whisper through gritted teeth. ‘The cows don’t know you. They’re scared.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she mouthed. Immediately, she took the smelly outfit and put it on.

  The cows slowly moved forward again.

  ‘Follow me,’ he said without further preamble and jumped back on the platform.

  She felt like he was speaking to her like she was a farmhand and a male one at that! But perhaps, he was just tired. And she had disturbed the cows and therefore, the milking process. Shaking off his brisk order, she jumped onto the platform. She always did have good balance. It had kept her in good stead when she’d done gymnastics and high jump at school sport’s carnivals.

  ‘What would you like me to do?’ she said kindly, enthusiasm and excitement at learning a new skill making her voice high.

  ‘I need you to unbuckle the strap behind the cow’s back legs, like this,’ he instructed, not looking at her, but concentrating on the technique he was showing her.

  ‘What does it do?’ she said, instantly curious.

  ‘It stops the cow moving backwards,’ he explained, matter-of-factly, then took a step away from her. ‘Now, show me if you can do it.’

  Kirra jumped in and did it easily.

  ‘Good.’ He sounded surprised. ‘Make sure the cows get off the platform okay. Just watch them and let me know if there’s a problem.’

  ‘I can do that!’ she said, a little thrill of competency zipping through her blood.

  ‘It’ll save me time,’ he muttered, before he switched on the platform rotating mechanism again. ‘I can speed up the platform.’

  They worked together in companionable silence for a good hour or so it seemed. Feeling useful and appreciated, Kirra’s heart sang. She enjoyed the physical work. It was far different from her office job where doing butt-squeezes and mouse-clicking all day were her main forms of exercise.

  Occasionally, she snatched glances at Jared. He was busy checking teats, hooking and unhooking cups from them. His dexterity and efficiency amazed her.

  Though she wanted to do more, she soon realised that milking this many cows took a phenomenal amount of experience and expertise. It was all about timing and rhythm.

  Later, she found herself humming to the cows. It kept them calm and a strange feeling came over her. She imagined all the cows were her children. One of her uncles had worked at a dairy, she suddenly remembered. He’d told her Aunt that he thought the cows had beautiful faces and that she did too. He’d added that that’s why he fell in love with her, so she couldn’t be too mad at him for comparing to a cow. She wondered if Jared felt the same way.

  When Jared had hooked up the last cow, he came over to her.

  The smell of his potent masculine scent mingled with sweat made her stomach curl with heat and she suddenly forgot all about the cows.

  ‘We’ve made good time,’ he said, his tone tired, but filled with relief and gratitude. ‘I’ll finish up here.’

  ‘No,’ she said, adamantly, I’ll wait ‘til these cows are done.’

  ‘It’s not necessary,’ he countered, ‘you’ve done enough. I still have to clean
everything down for tomorrow’s milking.’

  ‘I can help with that too.’

  ‘Thanks, but no. It’s more hygienic if one person does it,’ he explained. ‘Go back to the house. Make yourself something to eat. You must be hungry by now.’

  ‘Yes, I am.’ Physical work certainly brought on a keen appetite. ‘Do you want me to make something for you?’ she said, offering her usual consideration.

  His steely-blue eyes flashed at her then. ‘I don’t need a wife, Kirra. I’m chief cook and bottle washer around here.’

  Perplexed, Kirra frowned. ‘What about your mother?’

  ‘She used to cook, but she gets tired and forgets things sometimes. It’s a fire risk if she leaves something on,’ he said without animosity. ‘I took over a while ago.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

  She had an urge to touch his shoulder in comfort, but instincts told her that it would be unwelcome.

  ‘Such is life.’ He shrugged. ‘One has to be adaptable and resilient to survive in the country.’

  He had so many responsibilities. It suddenly dawned on her, it was little wonder that he had time to find a wife with whom to share his life.

  An uneasy silence walled up between them.

  ‘Go,’ he said. ‘I need to finish this task before midnight. I have to be up at five tomorrow morning to do it all again.’

  Kirra knew when she wasn’t wanted. She went into the side room and exchanged her overalls for her coat. Bidding a hasty retreat out of the dairy, she headed back to the homestead.

  What an enigma he was! Every moment she spent with him, only pressed more questions into her mercurial mind.

  Nearing the homestead, she noticed there were two spare parking bays in the four-car garage at the back. She drove her Subaru in and parked beside an immaculate, white Range Rover. It looked somehow out of place like it had never been driven.

  Hopping out of her car, Kirra left the driver’s side window down so that the interior had a chance to dry.

  A sensor light came on over the back steps and she made her way over to the rear door of the homestead. To her surprise, the door was unlocked. She went inside glad to get out of the awful weather and into the warm cosiness of the house.