by Annie Seaton
“I already know how to do that,” she said softly. She was still standing next to Gwennie’s chair. Ned held his hand out, and she looked at it for a moment.
“Come on, Ms. Cosmopolitan. You are about to have your first cooking lesson.”
A little tingle went up his arm when Jemmy put her hand in his, and he led her over to the freezer.
Two hours later, the children were in bed, their tummies satisfied with oven fries and chicken nuggets. Jemima had gone to bed, and Ned stood beneath the shower for a long time. When she’d taken his hand in the kitchen, a familiar feeling had filled him, but he’d ignored it. That wasn’t in the deal; this was a business relationship. He turned the water colder. Taking a cold shower every night for the next year might be hard, but if that’s what it took, he was going to have to do it. He stepped out and dried himself before pulling his boxer shorts and T-shirt on. The light was off, and he slipped into bed, pleased to see that the line of pillows was already firmly down the middle.
It took him ages to get to sleep. Jemima wore some sort of musky body lotion that surrounded him every night. He sat up and turned his pillow over and then rolled to the very edge of the bed. Maybe he should have insisted they go with his original suggestion. Perhaps the foldout bed in the wardrobe would be safer. He lay there, and finally Jemima’s gentle breathing from the other side of the bed lulled him off to sleep.
The next thing he knew the bedroom door opened with a creak. Ned struggled out of a deep sleep; it was still pitch dark. A sleep where he’d been dreaming about a soft body pressed close to his.
“Daddy, I’m firsty.”
His eyes flew open as Ryan switched on the light. Ned froze. The pillow fence was in a jumbled pile at the foot of the bed, and Jemima’s head was on his shoulder, and her legs were tangled with his.
He lay there, not sure what to do, but when Ryan ran over to the bed and called out again, “I’m firsty,” Jemima opened her eyes, and Ned felt her body stiffen against his as she took a sharp breath.
“It’s okay, mate. Daddy will get you a drink.” He lifted his arm that had somehow gone around her shoulders, and Jemima rolled over and sat up. Her T-shirt was bunched up, and Ned’s eyes lingered on her bare stomach before she pulled it down. He had the grace to look away when she glared at him, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
“Ah.” Ned cleared his throat as he climbed out of bed. “Looks like Ryan’s a bit unsettled. I’ll get him a drink and sleep with him in his bed.”
Jemmy nodded, and it was hard to read the expression on her face.
Disappointment? Embarrassment?
He turned the light off and closed the door as he led Ryan to the kitchen.
Chapter Fourteen
In the next two weeks, a routine developed in the McCormack household. Ned went to bed at midnight each night, waiting until Jemima was asleep before he climbed in on the other side of the pillow wall. Since the night Ryan had woken them up, Ned slept on the far side of the bed and noticed that Jemima did the same on her side. The pillow wall was quickly thrown to the floor each morning when there was a tap on the door and Gwennie led Ryan in for a morning cuddle, so his terror-of-a-son didn’t get to the kitchen first and try to get his own breakfast.
As soon as the kids arrived, Jemmy would scooter into the bathroom and leave them to tickles and cuddles. Then when she came out dressed and ready for the day and took Ryan to the kitchen, Ned would get out of bed.
All very civilised, but what Jemmy didn’t know was that he’d lie there listening to her soft breathing until he drifted off to sleep. Sleeping in the same bed as her every night was killing him. She was a beautiful woman, and Ned was discovering more every day that her beauty was way more than skin deep. She was patient with the kids; she was a hard worker—the house was spotless, and the washing and ironing was always up to date, and yesterday he’d noticed that the gardens inside the house fence had been weeded and watered.
As they cooked dinner together—as they had done since the steak and potato disaster—he looked out into the back garden. There were piles of weeds at regular intervals along the back fence.
“I don’t expect you to look after the yard, too, Jemmy.”
“I enjoy that. That’s the best part of the day.” Her smile was wide as she stood beside him, peeling the potatoes.
Ned shook his head and moved to stand behind her. He put his arm on either side of her and took the potato peeler from her hand. “Watch this. If you do it this way, it’s much quicker.”
Her hair tickled his nose, and he could feel the warmth of her skin through his work shirt. He stepped back. “Now you try.”
That wasn’t a wise move. He’d have to try and forget how good she smelled before he went to bed tonight.
“Mrs. McGillicuddy rang today.” Jemima’s words held a lilt of amusement. “Apparently, one of your children told them the steak and potato story at school. Mrs. M was there doing volunteer reading.”
“Let me guess. Gwennie’s class?” he said with a groan.
“Yes. Anyway, she asked me if I want to go to cooking lessons on Friday at the CWA Hall, and I think it’s a good idea.” Her smile was cheeky now. “It would save you some time.”
“Only if you want to. We’re coping fine now that you’ve fessed up about your kitchen skills.” He bumped her with his hip. “You know, I still would have hired you if you’d told me you didn’t cook, although it’s hard to believe that a Spring Downs girl never learned—”
“Hired me? Is that what you call it?” Her chuckle was deep and husky, and unwanted desire slammed through Ned. “I’ll bottle some picked onions next week just to prove you wrong.”
Whoa, boy.
“You didn’t hire her, Daddy. You’re silly. You married her!” Gwennie was indignant, and Ned and Jemima shared a look of alarm. Desire fled out the window.
“Don’t you dare go repeating any more conversations at school, young lady. Or there will be trouble. What is discussed at home stays at home. Is that clear?” Ned kneeled down in front of Gwennie.
“Yes, Daddy.” The tone was meek.
“Don’t forget, okay?”
“I won’t.”
Ned lifted Gwennie and swung her high. “Who’s the best daddy in the whole world?”
“Um, I don’t know.” She giggled as she put her arms around his neck.
Ned pouted. They’d played this game since she was a little girl.
“You are, Daddy!”
“Now give me a kiss, bub.”
“One for me, and then one for Jemmy,” she said with a funny look on her face.
A ripple of alarm ran through Ned. Was Gwennie picking up that their marriage was not the real thing?
He kissed Gwennie’s cheek and put her down. Before he could turn to Jemima, she was at his side and holding her face up.
“My turn.”
Ned smiled and forgot all about Gwennie standing there as he took Jemima into his arms. The kiss she returned was more than a peck on the cheek. He remembered that Gwennie was standing there before he lost control. But when Jemima’s lips opened beneath his, he groaned softly and pulled her closer.
Finally, he pulled back and held Jemima’s eyes with his. They were half-closed, and the sexy smile on her face sent his blood pressure skyrocketing.
Gwennie patted his arm. “I like it when you kiss Jemmy, Daddy.”
Ned swallowed and watched as Jemima returned to peeling the vegetables.
“Um, I’ll just switch the local news on.” His voice even sounded shaky to him. He followed Gwennie into the living room and tried to focus on the television.
Dinner was quiet, and Ned retreated to his office when the phone rang.
The situation was working out much better than he’d hoped. Jemima had slotted into the household with ease. And she knew the kids so well; she’d been quick picking up on Gwennie’s doubts and had stepped in for that kiss.
The kiss that was going to necessitate another cold shower.
He stifled a groan. At this rate, he wasn’t going to get any sleep ever. Lying in bed next to Jemima every night with that bloody pillow wall between them was so hard.
The phone rang again, jerking him out of his thoughts.
“Ned, it’s Liam. I was wondering if you’d heard about the alliance since you’ve come home?”
“I’ve read a little bit about it.” Ned stood, crossed to the window, and pulled the blinds down. The outside light had flicked on, and Jemima was at the clothes line hanging the tea towels out.
Jeez, mate. He caught himself staring, and it hadn’t even been a full minute since he’d vowed to chop that awareness in the bud.
“We’d love you to join us. If we let them go and do what they’re planning, our groundwater will be contaminated right across the Pilliga, and it affects us all.”
“Sounds good to me. How can I help?”
“I’ll let you know when the next meeting’s on. We’re making progress. Christos, the company behind it, has just copped a hefty fine for heavy metal contamination of groundwater not far from here.” Liam went on to explain more of the technical details, and before he wound up the call, he warned Ned, “Keep an eye out. They’ve been pretty brazen about coming onto farms and doing test drilling. I think Jemmy knows, but just remind her to keep an eye out when you’re out on the farm.”
“I will. Thanks, mate.” Ned hung the phone up and went back to the window and put the blind up.
All dark outside now.
…
Ned wandered out to the kitchen as Jemima turned the dishwasher on.
“Kids in bed already?” he asked.
“Ryan is. The girls are just brushing their teeth.” Jemima folded the dishcloth and placed it on the sink.
“You’re doing a great job, Jemmy. I don’t think you realise how much you’re helping, getting things back to normal, and I’m spending so much more time with the kids. It’s been a long time for us.”
A rush of affection for this man ran through her. “It’s not all my doing”—she put one hand up—“don’t you dare say thank you.”
“I’ll go and tuck the kids in. Can you come to the office in a while? I want to have a bit of a chat.”
“A chat?”
“Nothing bad. I just want to streamline some of the points of our agreement.”
“Oh, okay. I’ll put the kettle on, and we can have our cuppa in there. Is that okay?”
Ned nodded and disappeared down the hall, and Jemima put her hand to her chest, worrying that she’d done something to upset Ned.
A few minutes later, she carried a tray with a pot of coffee and a plate of homemade biscuits that she’d made at the CWA last Friday. She was quite proud of them. Ned came in and closed the door.
Jemima poured the coffee and passed him the plate. “A Melting Moment? Homemade.” She beamed.
Ned took a bite and nodded. “Pretty good.”
Jemima sat back in the chair and sipped her coffee. “So what’s wrong? Have I stuffed up somewhere?”
“No, not at all. I think things are going really well. Brilliantly, in fact. The farm is going so much better than I thought it would this early on. Meeting up with Liam and Garth has been the best thing for the farm—I’ve got a business plan in place since the bank loan came through, plus the line of credit at the produce store makes it easy to do the accounts. And Billy, he’s the farmhand that everyone would love to have.”
“So?”
Ned leaned forward and dropped his head into his hands. “Some things are going too well.”
“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.