by Annie Seaton
All the doubts he’d had about this business arrangement fled, and he reached down for Jemima’s hand. He felt her tense as he took it.
“This is bwekfast, Daddy. At night. And we get cake, too!” Ryan’s voice was the usual high-pitched squeal.
“A wedding breakfast,” Gwennie added.
“Come and sit down,” Angie said. “We have champagne and cake.”
…
Ned lead Jemima across to the table, and he kept hold of her hand as they stood there, looking at the yellow and red roses that were scattered on the white damask cloth. Little frissons of nerves kept tingling up her arm and down into her chest as he smiled at his children.
“We made a wedding breakfast for you and Jemmy, Daddy,” Gwennie said.
“And we cooked the cake,” Kelsey said. “Liam helped us follow the recipe while Angie showed Ryan the pigs. Liam won a ribbon for cooking cakes at the show, you know.”
“I heard that Liam knows how to cook cakes.” Jemima shot a grateful grin at her brother, pleased that Liam and Angie were supporting them to make this marriage the real thing in front of the kids.
“Never thought I’d help make a wedding cake for my little sister, though.” Liam winked at the girls, and they both giggled.
Ned held the chair out for her, and she sat down as Liam popped the cork from a champagne bottle. Angie opened a bottle of lemonade for the children and cut the cake into slices.
Once he’d filled the glasses, Liam held up his. “To Ned and Jemmy. May…may your marriage be all that you want.”
Jemima jumped as Ned reached for her hand beneath the table and squeezed it.
“Thank you all,” he said. “Thank you for a lovely celebration. It’s been a good day, hasn’t it, Jemmy?”
Jemmy bit her lip, unable to believe that she felt like crying. A warm happy feeling filled her chest, and for a minute, she could almost believe this was real. “It’s been a lovely day.” She picked up her glass and frowned as the bubbles tickled her nose. The last time she’d had champagne was in New York. It seemed like a million miles away from this farmhouse.
“Hurry up and eat your cake, kids.” Ned let go of her hand. “It’s time we went home.”
Home. Jemima took a deep breath. Home for them and a temporary workplace for her.
All they had to do was keep the charade up until Ned was back on his feet and the farm was in the black again.
She stood and pushed her chair back. “I’ll go and get my things.”
The big smiles on the girls’ faces pushed her doubts away a little as she headed for her room.
Chapter Eleven
Even though it was only a five-minute drive, Ryan nodded off to sleep in the ute on the way across to the farm.
“Scooter off and have your showers while I put Ryan to bed,” Ned instructed the girls when he lifted Ryan out of the car seat. He strode up the steps with the girls following close behind. Jemima went around to the back of the ute and pulled out her two suitcases. Angie had almost stopped her from putting them in the back of the truck with the chaff bags, dog food, and hay bales.
“Jemmy, they’re Louis Vuitton, for goodness sake. You can’t put them in a farm ute.”
Jemima had kept her voice matter-of-fact. She’d seen the strange look on Ned’s face when he’d glanced at the labels on the monogrammed canvas bags with the glossy brass corners and clips.
“They’re just suitcases, Angie.” But the fact that each suitcase had cost a few thousand dollars, and she hadn’t given it a thought at the time, brought home the different lifestyle that Ned had been living for the past few months. He needed to sell cattle to put more money back into the farm and grow the business. Jemima had enough funds invested to do it ten times over, and that thought made her uncomfortable. When he’d gone to thank her again, all she’d had to do was hold up her hand and Ned had flashed a sheepish grin. One thing she’d make sure of in the coming year was to help out as much as she could without making it too obvious. The girls needed new clothes, and Ryan seemed to be growing out of his every time she dressed him.
Jemima had never taken her income for granted, and she’d sought financial advice and invested wisely. She could afford to buy the children some new clothes and some toys for the smaller two. She’d already looked at a couple of horses that Jim Ison was selling but would have to broach the subject with Ned before she bought them.
She slid the two bags off the back of the ute and crossed the yard to the house. The living room was empty as she pushed open the screen door, and she stood there for a minute, uncertain about where to put her bags. She could hear the girls chattering in the bathroom down the hall, and she bit her lip.
A door closed, and Ned walked up the hall. His gaze settled on the two bags.
“Um, where should I put them?” Her voice was hesitant.
Ned walked over and picked them both up. “In my…our room, I guess.” He lowered his voice. “I meant to talk to you about this on the way home. We’ll have to share a bedroom, but I’ve figured it out. The last thing we need is for Gwennie to pipe up at school about Daddy’s room or Jemmy’s room.”
“True. So what are—?”
Ned cut her off. “Come and I’ll show you what I’ve planned. Gwennie tells the world everything. I’ve been trying to teach her what privacy means, but she’s a little sharer, and no matter how much I tell her what happens at home is private, it doesn’t make a difference.”
“Oh, that could be a problem. We’ll have to take care.” She followed Ned across the living room. Jemima hadn’t been in the master bedroom before, and surprise filled her when he stood back and let her walk in before him. A massive king-size bed filled the room, and that was it.
There was nothing else in the room. No cupboards, no bedside tables, no clock, no nothing. Zilch.
The bed was made, and she could see white sheets at the top beneath the austere gray blanket that looked like an army surplus blanket.
Ned put her bags over near a door at the back of the room. “There’s a wardrobe here that goes through to my bathroom. I don’t know if you’ve seen this section of the house yet?”
Jemima shook her head. “No, just the kids’ bedrooms.”
“So…I think you should take the bed in here, and I’ve got a small fold-out bed in the walk-in wardrobe. You can go to bed first every night, and I’ll come through and sleep in the wardrobe. If we keep the door locked—”
Ned must have seen the look on her face because he frowned and cut short whatever it was he’d been going to say. “What’s wrong? You have a problem with me sleeping so close?”
“No, of course not. It’s not that. You can’t lock the door. In fact, you can’t shut the door. You won’t be able to hear the kids through the night if they get sick or upset or have a dream or something.”
“But if the door’s open, they’ll be able to see I’m not in the bed.”
Jemima swallowed. Never in a million years did she dream she’d say this to a man she barely knew. “Well then, it’s a big bed. You’ll have to sleep in it.”
Ned’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”
Jemima sighed and put more confidence into her voice than she was feeling. “Look Ned, I’m not suggesting anything else. It’s a huge bed. We’ve made a deal, and you don’t want the idle comment of one of your children to get on the Sykes gossip channel, do you?”
“The what?”
Jemima’s tension eased as she laughed. “The Sykes. Mrs. Sykes at the school, Mrs. Sykes at the bank, and Mrs. Sykes at the library.”
Ned’s eyes crinkled as he smiled. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but it looks like you know the town much better than I do.”
“I’ll tell you about them one day, but in the meantime, we need to get organised. If it makes you feel better, we can put a row of pillows in the middle and say I have a bad back or something.”
“Or we could say it was so you can’t hear my snoring.”
“What?�
�� This time, Jemima put her hands on her hips as she laughed. “You snore? That’s it! Deal’s off.”
“What deal?” came a little quavering voice from the doorway. “You’re not leaving us, too, are you, Jemmy?”
Jemima walked across and kneeled down beside Gwennie, whose bottom lip was trembling. “Oh sweetie, don’t be upset. I was just teasing Daddy. He told me he snores.”
“Not very much,” Gwennie said. “Only when he’s very tired.”
Jemima laughed again as she glanced up at Ned. She thought his eyebrows were going to disappear into his hairline.
“But it’s okay, Jemmy,” the little girl whispered. “If it gets too loud, you can come into my bed with me.”
“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind,” Jemima said.
“No, Gwennie, Jemmy will stay in Daddy’s bed,” Kelsey said with a wise nod. “And you know, now that they’re married, we all have to give them privacy.”
Ned smiled, and Jemima knew her cheeks were rosy.
“Oh, okay. I get it.” Gwennie turned with innocent eyes, and Jemmy’s face grew hotter when Ned grinned at Gwennie’s next words. “So we might get a new baby.”
Kelsey grabbed Gwennie. “Come on, leave Daddy and Jemmy in peace.”
Jemima put her head down, but Ned didn’t let it go. “I guess there’s been some sex education at school. No need to blush.” He ran the back of his hand gently across her cheek.
Jemima couldn’t help her smile as she looked up at him. “Sure sounds like it.”
…
Kelsey was sprawled on the lounge with her iPad in her hand, the light of the screen flickering on her face.
“So does anyone want any dinner?” Jemima tried to remember what was in the kitchen. It was the thing she was most nervous about—cooking for the family.
“We had dinner at Liam and Angie’s before you got home,” Kelsey said.
“And I’m full from the cake,” Gwennie added.
“So it’s teeth and bedtime, then.”
Jemima jumped as Ned’s breath brushed past her ear, and he put his hand on her shoulder. “Once the girls are asleep, I’ll light the barbie and we can grill some steaks.”
“Oh, there’s no need. We had a big lunch, and that cake was filling.”
“I’ve got a big day planned tomorrow, so I’ll cook myself a steak. You sure you don’t want anything?”
“No. I’m fine.” Jemima gestured to the laundry. “I’ll put a load of washing on and then get myself unpacked. At least it’s the weekend and the kids can help around the house tomorrow.”
After the girls went to bed, Jemima kept herself busy. Ned was outside at the grill, and the smell of cooking steak and onions wafted into the house. Her clothes were unpacked—not that she’d brought much with her—the washing was in the basket ready to hang out in the morning, and the living room was tidy. She walked into the kitchen to put the kettle on for a cup of coffee, but Ned already had it on.
“A coffee?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Yes, please.”
“Pull up a stool. You’ve not stopped since we got home.”
Jemima waved her hand in the air. “There’s a lot to do. I have to keep up my end of the bargain.”
She held her breath as Ned walked over and pulled up the stool beside her. “We need to make some ground rules here, Jemmy. I don’t expect you to do everything.”
“I don’t mind. It keeps me busy.”
“But you’re not the housekeeper, and I’m not paying you anything.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I just appreciate so much—”
“Enough. I’ve agreed. The bank’s onboard, and I don’t mind helping out around the house. It’s a novelty for me. I’ve not had to look after anyone apart from me for a long time.”
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 al
l 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.”