“How romantic,” said a woman, to her companion. We smiled back, a bit sheepishly.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said. “I don’t know about you, but the next thing I want to do with you shouldn’t be done in a crowded airport.”
I took his hand, not fully believing what was happening.
“Let’s go home,” he said.
***
We turned the central heating on as soon as we got inside, and he poured us both a drink. He wouldn’t stop touching me, as if he couldn’t believe that I was actually here.
“It’s fate,” he said. “If I had have been half an hour later, I would have missed you. You would have boarded that plane and be flying out of my life.” He shook his head. “Oh, Amber. I couldn’t have borne it.”
“I think it is fate,” I said. “I had my boarding pass. There was no reason why I hadn’t walked through Customs. It was like I was waiting for you, without even knowing it.”
He leaned over me on the sofa, kissing me passionately. It was like we needed to do it, to seal our connection. We had almost lost each other. It had been so close.
We made love like we were drowning, and the other was the only thing saving us from going under. I never knew such passion could exist. When he was inside me, it was like coming home.
A home I never wanted to leave.
Afterwards, as we lay in each other’s arms, he sighed.
“Amber, I need to say this.” He stroked my face. “I know what I want, now. It has never been clearer to me. But I don’t want to stop you from living your dreams. If you want to return to the States, and finish your studies, you should do it. I will provide you with the money you need.”
I looked at him. “You would do that for me?”
He nodded. “I would. We could relocate to the States, the three of us, while you do it.”
My eyes shone with tears. “Finn, you have given me a gift. But let’s not decide, for now. There are law schools in Australia. That’s always an option.”
He smiled, tenderly. “Either way, Amber my love, I want you to be my wife. For real, this time.”
“Is that a proposal?” I smiled at him.
“It is.” He got down on one knee, looking up at me. “Amber, will you be my wife?”
“I will be your wife,” I answered, slowly. “Nothing would make me happier in this world.”
He kissed me. “I think we should go shopping, tomorrow. For an engagement ring. A real one.”
I smiled, looking down at my hand. “Oh, Finn, you don’t have to do that. I already have one.”
“You do,” he agreed. “But that was given out of convenience. I didn’t even pick it. This time, I want us to go together, and we can choose a ring which we both love.”
“Okay,” I said, smiling.
I couldn’t believe it. My fake fiancée was now my real one. I couldn’t wait for our life to begin. With Finn, my one and only love, by my side. Forever.
***
The End.
Epilogue
Cara
I was shocked as I cleared Customs, walking into Arrivals at Melbourne Airport. There was a throng of people pressed against the gate, jostling signs and shouting. It really unnerved me.
I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. It had been a long, long flight. Amber had told me, of course. But the information obviously hadn’t entered my brain. I had just crossed two time zones and I felt as if I was a zombie, like I had never slept and would never sleep again. I had never experienced jet lag this bad before.
I scanned the faces in the crowd, confused. Then, I suddenly saw her.
Amber. My closest friend, smiling brightly, jumping up and down. I steered my luggage trolley through the throng towards her.
“Cara! You’re here!” Amber threw her arms around me, almost knocking me to the ground. “What was the delay? I’ve been waiting over an hour!”
“Beats me,” I shrugged, returning the hug. “We didn’t take off on time from Singapore. That might be it.” I looked my best friend in the face. “That was brutal, Amber. The longest flight of my life.”
Amber laughed. “I did try to tell you.” She paused, carefully looking at me. “You look beat. Do you want to have a coffee before we go, or do you want to get straight home? I imagine you just want to hit the sack.”
“Coffee,” I declared. “I want to chat with you, alone, before I meet your beloved. It’s been so long.”
We found a café in the airport, sipping our lattes as we watched the world go by.
“So.” I stretched, feeling the caffeine hit my bloodstream, revitalising me. “Tell me everything! When is the wedding?”
Amber gave me all the details, her face betraying her happiness. “I’m so glad you came. I wouldn’t want anyone else to be my bridesmaid. And you will love Finn, and Lilah, of course. I can’t wait for you to meet them.”
“Neither can I,” I said. “Wow! I can’t believe that you are about to get married. And to an Australian! What am I going to do, with my bestie living on the other side of the world?”
Amber frowned. “I don’t want to think about it. I will miss you so much. But you’re here now, that’s all that matters.”
Amber’s cell phone suddenly started vibrating on the table in front of us. She picked it up, mouthing to me that it was Finn. I zoned out while Amber took the call. It wasn’t just the long flight. My mind was in a whirlwind, thinking over all the problems I had left behind in San Francisco.
My medical studies, which I didn’t think I could continue. I had hit a wall, unable to work the long hours of an intern and still work my part time waitressing job. I had felt I was on the verge of a collapse.
Then Amber had called, begging me to come to Australia to be her bridesmaid. I had jumped at the opportunity. A break was definitely what I needed. I had to think long and hard about where my life was going.
Amber ended the call, looking at me in surprise. “That was Finn,” she said. “He was calling about his best friend, Bryce. You know, the one I was telling you about? Turns out Bryce has landed himself in some hot water. One of his old girlfriends has suddenly died.”
“Why has that landed him in hot water?” I asked. “Did he kill her?”
Amber laughed. “No, of course not! Bryce is a pussy cat. He might think he’s the playboy of the Western world, but inside, he is a softie. No, it turns out the ex has a child. And the child is Bryce’s! He had no idea. He is absolutely shocked.”
“What’s he going to do?” I sipped my latte.
“He doesn’t really know.” Amber frowned. “But Finn thinks he will take his son in. What else can he do? But it’s a bit of a dilemma. He works from dawn to dusk, plus he’s just taken a secondment to work on the Gold Coast, in Queensland. He’s going to need some help.”
“I’m sure he’ll work it out,” I said.
Amber sat up straighter, looking at me intensely. “You should do it, Cara! Become his nanny.”
“What?” I looked at Amber as if she had just lost her mind. “What are you talking about? I live in the States! I’m just here visiting for your wedding.”
Amber looked excited. “No, but it’s perfect! You said you’re exhausted, not knowing where you’re going with your medical studies. This way, you would have time to think, while earning money. And we would be in the same country!”
I shook my head. “Amber, I don’t think so. I don’t know the first thing about nannying, for a start. And you’re jumping the gun a bit, aren’t you? You don’t even know what this Bryce character is intending to do with this long-lost child. And he mightn’t approve of me as a nanny, anyway.”
Amber smiled. “I can talk him around, and so can Finn. Cara, just think about it, will you?”
I finished my latte, looking at Amber. “I’ll think about it. But not now. Can we please go to your beautiful mansion, so I can get some sleep?”
Amber laughed. “Of course. Let’s go, sleepyhead.”
On the car t
rip through Melbourne, I went over what Amber had said. It seemed unlikely, anyway. I might not even get along with this Bryce. But if I did, it could be a good opportunity to clear my mind. See what I really wanted to do with my life.
Things weren’t going well in California. I couldn’t remember the last time that I had slept properly. It was becoming a real issue.
I toyed with the idea, a little. Then I abruptly fell asleep, pressed up against the glass of the passenger side window.
***
Hope you enjoyed Finn & Amber's story dear reader. If you would like to read another Austrialian Romance, Bianca & Zane's story is also included in this book. Check out the Table of Contents for Nanny's Halloween Down Under
Home At Last
May
A glance in the rearview leaves me sure no one is following me. Not that there’s anyone to follow me anyway. Out here, under the stifling Texas sun, I realize I’ve driven nearly six hundred miles and I’m tired.
The kind of tired that’s sinking right down deep into my bones. But that scared side of me tells me to keep running. I have to keep going. I haven’t gone far enough.
Pushing aside the troubling thoughts, I try to settle into happier times, happier memories. Out here, on an old dirt road that reminds me of home, I’ve seen a few gates between stretches of fenced land. The gates have huge wooden frames of old logs that are a throwback the time when Texas was truly wild. Hung from each wooden frame is a name; the name of the ranch proudly on display. One creeps up on me now: Mustang Ranch.
I slow down as I notice an odd-looking bit of paper clinging to the beam on the right side of the frame.
Help wanted.
It’s like every prayer I’ve ever said that’s gone unanswered has suddenly left me here, finally heard and saved.
Before I can change my mind, I pull in before the closed gate. I sit for a moment. Am I really doing this? Am I crazy? I can’t stop. I haven’t put enough distance between me and…
It’ll be fine.
With a deep breath, I calm myself and I get out of my old car. It’s on its last legs after the punishing drive we’ve just endured. The sky just seems to stretch on endlessly as I open the gate before heading back to my car to pull through. On the other side, I get back out and close the gate behind me. Might as well make a good first impression, right?
What was that old rule dad made sure I remembered? A closed gate must be closed behind oneself.
The drive is dirt and rough, potholes claim my tires and jolt the car. Along both sides, fences trap plots of land and pastures stretch as far as the eye can see. The sparse grasses and few trees offer spotty shade to majestic-looking horses of many colors that stand in groups of two and threes.
I drive slowly, but still, my tires kick up enough dust to announce my presence long before I ever even see the house.
When the house comes into view, I feel my jaw drop. It’s not an old ranch house; it’s an old ranch mansion. It’s like a cross between an old plantation mansion and a castle. My heart thunders in my chest as I pull up and park my car.
They’re looking for help, I remind myself. I know that Texas is a stand your ground state, but the sign said they’re looking for help. Besides, what self-respecting man would shoot an unarmed, obviously tired woman?
With slow steps, I walk up the sprawling porch, loving the white swinging loveseat and the several matching white wicker chairs. This place reminds me more of home than home did in its final glory days.
I step up to the door and gather my courage to knock. Before I can, the door swings open and I find myself under the intense brown stare of a man who’s taller than me by a foot and a half at least. He leans on the doorframe, his imposing form enough to make every drop of saliva dry up on my tongue.
His heavy brow, shiny black hair and tanned skin all make up an incredibly handsome face. His eyes are hooded, like he trusts no one and nothing, his jaw is wide and powerful and working like he’s clenching it and deciding whether or not to shoot me.
Maybe he should shoot me. Put me out of my misery.
Suddenly, he smiles and it’s like the sun parting heavy gray thunderclouds. “Ma’am,” he says, tipping his hat. “May I help you?”
At a loss for words, I turn and gesture back to the gate that’s easily several miles down the drive. “I’m May. You’re looking for help?” My voice sounds small and breathless, even to me and I see his eyes narrow a bit before someone behind him calls out something I don’t quite hear.
“A lady inquiring about the job,” he says over his shoulder and I hear laughter. My face flames red hot and I turn to walk away, an apology quick on my lips.
“I’m sorry for wasting your time--”
The words die as a strong hand curls around my arm just above my elbow and stops me dead in my tracks. I turn to face the man and notice there’s not even a hint of amusement in his face.
“Can you work hard, miss?” he asks, all seriousness that send my heart fluttering like a scrap of paper caught in the wind.
“I can,” I say, wondering why I can hardly draw a deep breath.
He looks me up and down, his hand falling away from me like he realized he’d been touching me for much longer than is proper. “You’re not suitable for a ranch hand, but I might have something else for you,” he says slowly, his eyes wandering across my face like he’s committing my features to memory – or like he recognizes me.
Clint
May isn’t what I’m looking for as far as help is concerned. I need men. Strong, hardworking, rough men willing to take on backbreaking labor, punishing hours, and fair pay. But May, she’s so pale and fragile looking I’m not sure she could handle the simplest task I’ve got here.
Still, something in her eyes begs me to let her stay. And she looks so tired I wouldn’t forgive myself if I let her go right now. There’s a strength to her, a quiet power that leads me to believe she’s stronger than I’m giving her credit for.
Her big blue eyes are as pale as the skies behind her, and there’s a light sprinkle of freckles across her nose. She’s so innocent looking I find myself needing to know how old she is.
“How old are you?”
She seems relieved, and I wonder what she expected me to say. “Twenty-four,” she says, her blue eyes solemn on me. Of age. I want to let out a breath I wasn’t aware I’d been holding. As she brings her hands forward to clasp before the hips of her jeans, I debate. What could I have her do?
When she draws a deep breath, I notice the gentle thrust of her breasts under the thin material of her black shirt. I’m careful not to actually look, though, and keep my eyes locked on hers. Still, she’s a beautiful girl, and it’s hard to keep my attention off her charms.
“Come in,” I say, suddenly remembering my manners. “My name’s Clint. Clint Quentin.” I can find something for her. Even now, a plan, partially formed, nags at the back of my mind. As I step back and allow her in, I hear the guys stand up and begin moving.
We’ve got some horses we’ve got to get moving from beyond the pasture they’d escaped. It’ll take all night to ride out there and drive them back home, and I realize that May might help alleviate one problem I’ve got.
“Have you ever taken care of kids?” I ask as she moves through the house to the dining room where men are filing out toward the front door. Shane lowers his shoulder as he comes to pass me and I engage my core, ready and braced for impact. He doesn’t disappoint and the clash of our shoulders would have been enough to knock a smaller man to the ground.
After what he did, he should be glad it’s not my fist across his jaw again.
“I haven’t, but I imagine it’s common sense.” May is solemn as I guide her into the emptying dining room. Carson meets my gaze and looks away, an unsure glint in his blue eyes. His harshly tanned Texas skin is rough from a layer of grit and sun.
He takes his hat in his hands and May studies him as he nods to her with a thick air of politeness. “Sorry to interrupt,” h
e says to her, and she nods graciously as his eyes skip to me. As always, fixed with his icy stare, I’m a bit unsettled. “Should I saddle your horse, boss?”
“Yes,” I say, and he dips his head, “Buy me ten.”
He leaves as the last few guys file out of the room like sand whipped from the corner of a canyon by storm winds.
“Am I keeping you?” May asks, her wide blue eyes worried.
“Only a moment, miss,” I say, watching a bit of relief creep into her features. “I must ask you for a favor,” I say, and she nods.
“Anything.” The way she says it, breathless and unintentionally seductive takes me aback. Clamping down with steely control, I get back on track. I can’t be thinking about how long it’s been since I had a woman in my bed.
“My daughter, Grace, will be home from school this evening and I’ve got a long job ahead of me.” I hated to ask, but this is easier than calling on the babysitter. If only those damn mustangs hadn’t busted out. But I’d rather be there for the ride than let the guys handle it.
But I didn’t want to call the sitter. She just eyes me with disproval every second and tries too hard to make Grace be a proper little lady.
“How old is Grace?” May asks, and I wonder why that’s the first question.
“She’s five,” I say, hoping that this isn’t the detail that breaks her. Grace could use a real woman, someone soft-spoken like May to talk to her. Gertie isn’t the best adult woman figure to have on hand. She’s brash, loud mouthed, and insists that Grace be a little lady at all times and quiet. Things I’m not all that happy with. I’ve thought about finding a new sitter for a while, but I hadn’t actively been looking.
Maybe lady luck is smiling down on me today. Maybe May is the answer to a question I hadn’t known I had.
“Allergies?” May asks, and I shake my head. She looks up at me as if she doesn’t trust that I’m not holding something back. “Is there anything I need to know?” She asks, those serious blue eyes on mine.
Cowboy's Barmaid: A Small Town Military Romance (Lucky Flats Ranchers Book 2) Page 32