He turned away from her and walked over to the ruins poking among the debris looking for anything he could salvage.
As she watched Jared the slow realisation crept upon her, this was the true reason behind his determination to sell Totara Park. He thought that once she knew the lengths to which Harvey and Gaelen had gone to achieve their own ends, she would never be happy living here.
Slowly Winsome looked around her.
The sombre green of the totara trees had brown tips, the sign of being scorched and the lawn was a hard burnt brown but here and there daffodils displayed their vibrant beauty despite the drama and the carnage that had been wrought around them.
On the oaks and planes in the avenue, new leaves were beginning to unfurl and beneath them a carpet of bluebells, daffodils and snowdrops nodded in the breeze. High in a treetop a thrush sang, the clear, pure notes rising and falling as it serenaded spring, the season of renewal.
She looked across the charred remains of the homestead to the old oak tree that had saved their lives. Its trunk was scarred by fire but the tree would live, a reminder of the life and death drama it had seen and played a part in.
Like that tree, the Graingers had been scarred, but they too would live to see another day.
And Winsome knew she could not allow Jared to sell his heritage.
“You can’t sell Totara Park,” she said vehemently when she reached his side. “Your father was born here, and your grandfather and great grandfather. Your love for this land runs along with the blood in your veins. It’s your home.”
His chin tilted at a stubborn angle and his mouth thinned to a determined line.
Panic ate at Winsome.
Jared really meant what he said and he would follow through with selling this land because he thought that’s what she wanted.
She couldn’t let that happen.
Totara Park was his heritage, her children’s heritage. It was inconceivable that this land would ever be farmed without a Grainger at the helm. Once it had gone out of family ownership it would be too late.
And while she could understand his anger, his grief over his mother’s diabolical actions and his father’s devious cunning, she could not let Jared do something that he would regret until his dying day.
If Jared did sell Totara Park, then Gaelen, truly had won.
“Not anymore.” He dismissed her emotional plea with a slight shrug.
“Where will we go?”
“As far away from Cambridge as we can.” He walked over and rested his hands on her shoulders. “We deserve a fresh start away from here.”
“It’s obvious that you do.” She gave him a serene smile that belied the panicky beat of her heart at her own temerity. “But I own half of Totara Park and I’m not moving anywhere. If you want to sell—” She shrugged and spread her hands wide in a gesture she’d seen her husband use a thousand times. “I’ll buy you out.”
Shock wiped all expression from Jared’s face.
“You’d buy me out?” He asked in a stunned voice, staring at her as if he’d never seen her before in his life. “You’d get a mortgage and buy me out?”
“Yes,” she said meeting his gaze, her own steady. “I can understand you finding the memories too tough to live with. You may need a fresh start but I can’t let you sell our children’s heritage.”
Comprehension dawned and a glimmer of amusement chased the lost look from his eyes.
“I do believe you would,” he said shaking his head. “And what’s more you’d make it work.”
Something wild and sweet raced through Winsome as she watched him. Respect and a raw, primitive emotion chased across his expression.
“Of course.” She lifted her chin, her eyes full of challenge. “Totara Park is our history, Grainger history. It’s the legacy we will leave our children and our children’s children, with or without you at the helm.”
The challenge had barely settled when, with a muttered imprecation Jared swept her into his arms and strode across to Quentin’s truck. He shouldered open the door and placed her on the seat as if she was as fragile as spun glass. He leaned behind her, pushed a lever, the wide bench seat tilting backwards.
As he climbed in the cab with her, the look in his eyes set her heart racing.
Jared framed her face between his work-roughened farmer’s hands.
“I love you, Winsome,” he said softly and so seriously. “I met and fell in love with a lovely girl. I married her and we created a home. Then our baby died and she left me and my whole world fell apart.”
Winsome’s heart raced and her mouth went dry as she stared up at the only man she’d ever loved, would ever love.
“And then you returned. I was determined that I was going to live with you and my heart would remain untouched.” He traced a thumb over her lower lip. “Then I fell in love all over again. This time with a strong woman, a woman who is a wise and loving mother to the child I’d ignored. A courageous woman, who overcame fears and faced down demons that would daunt many people. A woman who is intelligent, and a shrewd business partner. An honourable woman, prepared to stand up for what she knows is right. While I’ll always have a fondness for that girl,” he kissed her softly, “it’s the woman I’ll love until the day I die.”
“And I love you so much,” she whispered, her heart in her eyes as she laid a bandaged hand against his bronzed cheek. “We’ll get the bulldozers in?”
He gave her a fierce glare, his amber eyes brilliant with emotion.
“We’ll get the bulldozers in tomorrow. And we’ll build ourselves a home among these trees, a home whose foundations are built on love, respect and trust.”
He kissed her softly at first and then more deeply.
It was a kiss that spoke of love and loss, of fear and hope, of trust and betrayal. Then it deepened until it was an affirmation, a remembrance of desperation, unspeakable fear and a joyous celebration of life itself.
Their clothes melted away, Jared reached into the back of the truck for the blanket his brother kept there and covered them both.
“Jared,” she whispered laying a bandaged hand against his cheek.
“I love you, Winsome,” he murmured as he claimed her mouth in a kiss that searched her soul.
His work-roughened hands created a sensuous friction against her soft skin, his kiss became hot, needy and searching. Winsome arched into him pressing her slender body as close as she could.
Would she ever get enough of this man, his passion, and his tenderness?
Jared moved over her and in his embrace she found a connection that transcended time and place, a connection filled with hope, love and trust.
Outside the cab of the truck a spring breeze soughed through the of totara trees, sighing over the blackened ruins of what had once been a proud, historic home. Cheerful daffodils nodded sagely in the breeze as young and tender green leaves unfurled looking for the sun.
Out of the shadows cast by the old oak, Casper stalked up to the acrid ruins, sniffed disdainfully and then ran skittishly across the burnt grass, leaping onto the railing fence to begin a leisurely grooming session.
***
It was dusk when Jared and Winsome turned Quentin’s truck into Levelly Lodge. He turned to her with a smile that moved the shadows from his eyes. The box on the floor of the truck moved and soft sounds emitted from it. The back seat was heaped with parcels, a pile of papers and several soft toys.
As they pulled into the courtyard, Lacey came barrelling out to meet them.
Jared swung down from the truck and gathered the little girl in his arms. “Have you had fun?” he asked kissing her cheek. “Mummy and I have got a surprise for you.”
Lacey looked into the truck and her eyes went round. “Can I see?”
Jared reached into the back seat and caught hold of a fluffy teddy bear, a Raggedy-Anne doll and put them in her arms.
“These are for you,” he said huskily piling them in her arms.
Lacey hugged the toys and l
ooked over them to the clutter on the back seat. “What’s in all those parcels?”
“Clothes and things we need, pumpkin,” Jared said gently. “Everything we had has been burned so we all have to start over fresh.”
“What about Casper?” Lacey’s lip trembled.
“Casper’s okay.” Jared gave her a swift kiss. “He’s still at the farm. Mummy and I fed him. You can see him tomorrow.”
Quentin came out and seeing the pile of parcels gave a mock groan. “I guess you’ll need a hand with those.”
“We will indeed.” Jared put Lacey down and opened the door for Winsome before handing Lacey a parcel of books and pencils. “Can you manage these as well?”
The little girl took off and while she was gone Jared handed Quentin the box from beside Winsome’s feet. “Go hide that someplace.”
Quentin looked inside and grinned. “Is it named?”
“Yeah why?” Jared asked struggling to contain a laugh. “What’s your future champion called Bro?”
“Nellie Knock Knees.” Quentin shook his head as Jared gave a great guffaw for laughter.
“And here comes Nellie Knock Knees the champion stallion from Grainger’s Levelly stables,” Jared intoned, mimicking a race commentator’s call.
Suddenly they were howling with laughter, as much a relief from the past stressful few hours as to Jared’s mimicking parody of a race call. For a few minutes the shadows were banished from everyone’s heart.
“You promised, Quentin,” Winsome said wiping her eyes. “It could have been worse.”
“Not by much,” Quentin said gloomily as he secreted the box in the laundry.
Inside Catherine made coffee and Winsome leaned back in her chair, hugging Lacey. Jared and Quentin came in together. Jared had showered and changed into clean clothes.
“Lacey, here’s something else for you.” Jared put the box down on the floor.
The little girl wriggled out of Winsome’s lap, eyes alive with curiosity.
“Careful now,” Jared cautioned.
The box moved and Lacey opened the lid and let out a squeal of joy. “Bouncer. Daddy you bringed Bouncer.”
“Lacey,” Winsome said softly. “Bouncer’s your puppy now. Daddy says you can keep him.”
The puppy wriggled and squirmed and licked the little girl’s face turning itself inside out with ecstasy at being reunited with its favourite person.
“Can I?” Lacey hugged the puppy and looked at Jared. He nodded as he gathered her and the pup in his arms. “He’s my berry own?”
“Bouncer is yours to keep.” He smoothed a short straggly wisp of hair off her face. Lacey leaned up and kissed him. Bouncer jumped up, licking his face as well.
Jared batted the puppy away wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Lacey laughed and rolled around the floor, her and her puppy ecstatic.
Winsome watched them, a soft smile curving her well-kissed lips.
Bouncer had chased the fear from Lacey’s eyes. While the puppy wouldn’t completely eradicate the horror, he would help a little girl create happy memories.
Tomorrow the bulldozer would move in and clear the debris from the fire and they’d begin planning their new home.
“You doing okay?” Jared asked coming and sitting on the arm of her chair.
Winsome nodded her heart in her eyes. She was doing a lot more than merely all right. She was looking into a future that was rosier than anything she’d ever imagined.
The End
I hope you enjoyed Return to Totara Park. If you’d like to find out more about my books you can sign up to my newsletter here, or check out my website.
Also Available
Kayla’s Christmas
One Hour to Midnight
Seven for a Secret
Lovers’s Lies
Yesterday’s Sins
Shadow Dance (The Mulleins of Katherine Bay)
Ashlyn’s Bodyguard (The Mulleins of Katherine Bay)
The Farmer Takes a Wife (The Mulleins of Katherine Bay)
Seven for a Secret
Why had she never known her life was one colossal lie?
After her father’s sudden death Anna Belmonte is stunned to discover she's her father’s love child with the family au pair, Megan Anderson. Her father’s rigid Italian values, his hatred of her chosen career as an artist, and her refusal to marry the man he handpicked as her husband have set Anna apart from her contemporaries. Shocked, betrayed, her sense of self in tatters, Anna travels to New Zealand seeking her birthmother. With her parents now dead, Anna is determined to unravel the dark secrets surrounding her birth, secrets that now only Megan can answer.
When she meets Megan’s stepson, Slade Haultain, Anna accepts his invitation to stay on his beef and sheep grazing property, Puriri Downs. And very quickly they forge strong emotional bonds. After a lifetime of her art being denigrated, Slade’s acceptance of her chosen career is a balm to Anna’s spirit. She’d long ago decided art and marriage were incompatible and has vowed never to marry.
Now the closer she becomes to Slade, she glimpses a tantalizing vision. Art, marriage and children, for the first time she thinks that perhaps she can have it all.
Anna’s meeting with Megan turns into a disaster. Her father’s posthumous letter turns out to be a carefully evasive tissue of lies, with both Anna and Megan as pawns in his grubby games. Too late, Anna learns this was one secret that was never meant to be told… The dead hand of Anna’s manipulative father reaches from beyond the grave to destroy the young lovers’ hopes and dreams.
How can Anna ask Slade to choose between her and his family? How can she ever prove she wasn’t a party to her father’s diabolical schemes? And how can she ask Slade take her word on trust…
Excerpt
Suddenly, the sensation of being watched made her tense. A surreptitious glance around the dining room and her stunned gaze landed on a man filling the doorway.
He was staring directly at her and she forgot to breathe.
Trapped in the stranger’s obsidian gaze, heat flooded her face. She closed her eyes trying to escape his scrutiny, but opening them again, found him watching her with the same hawk-like intensity.
Who was he?
Unable to break free of his inimical stare, Anna tilted her chin in defiance.
His black eyes narrowed in unmistakable antipathy as he straightened and strode across the room with the easy cat-like grace of a man confident of his place in the world.
Anna swallowed hard, but failed to dislodge the lump anxiety settled in her throat.
He was tall, well over six feet, the breadth of his shoulders awesome. Blue jeans and pale blue shirt accentuated swarthy good looks. Sleeves, rolled to the elbows, exposed well-muscled, tanned forearms. Raindrops trembled in night-black hair. A hawkish nose dominated his rugged face. The square chin suggested a man accustomed to ordering life on his own terms.
Anna’s heart drummed at a suffocating pace.
His eyes were dark chocolate, not black. Her mind was in such a chaotic tangle the irrelevant observation seemed sensible as he pulled out the chair opposite, and sat at her table.
Slade Haultain studied the woman with something akin to shock. She wasn’t at all what he expected.
Her persistent questions were arousing a buzz of curiosity. In a town as small as Mt Maunganui, anything out of the ordinary was noted and commented on.
No stranger was going to wreak havoc in his family’s lives.
In his rush to intercept and send her packing, he never even paused to consider what this cuckoo in the nest would look like.
He sure as hell never expected a woman like this one.
Her hair, a wild halo of corkscrew curls, swamped a creamy face dominated by a pair of huge grey eyes. A pair of lush breasts would fill a man’s hands, and then some.
His heart leaped in his chest and all his blood went south.
A shudder zinged through him. Looking at her was akin to being zapped with the business end
of a cattle prod.
He shook his head to clear it.
Hormones would not distract him from what he needed to do. But hell! This was one complication he did not need.
About the Author
I am a New Zealander born and bred.
Most of my stories are set in our wonderful country in the antipodes. I've always written, freelancing for local and National newspapers, but Romance is my true love.
I've been a reader of romance from the moment my sister introduced me to The English Women's Weekly and their wonderful serialized romances. I fell in love with the genre.
I know the world is full of heroes. I have my own hero right here at home to prove it. We fell in love when we were young teenagers. And believe me we heard all the old chestnuts. You're too young to know your own minds. Young love never lasts. It gives me great pleasure half a century on to thumb my nose and say, "You know what? You were all wrong!"
Why Romance? I write romance because to me first and last. Family matters.
I've always been a scribbler. To me writing is both a pleasure and a cathartic outlet for stress and grief.
My enduring love is reading. My house is crowded with books on every subject imaginable. My other great hobby is gardening. Now, after a lifetime spent farming, I live with my husband in semi-retirement on the traditional Kiwi quarter acre section with a cat and a dog.
You can read more and see photos of our garden on my blog. http://www.shirleywine.com
His Christmas Present
Second Chances Boxed Set: 7 Sweet & Sexy Romances in 1 Book Page 121