Her Outback Cowboy (Prickle Creek)

by Annie Seaton

  Her breath caught as she looked around the room. Garth was on his back on the burgundy chesterfield beneath the window, one arm flung behind his head. His eyes were closed and his chest rose and fell gently as he breathed. Lucy walked over and stood above him. He was fast asleep. His hair, in need of a trim, curled softly over the neck of his T-shirt. His long, dark lashes rested on his tanned cheeks and his lips were soft and relaxed, and her fingers itched to smooth his hair from his forehead.

  A flood of longing gripped Lucy, and warmth fluttered in her lower belly. A shared look between them was all it had taken to get her feeling like that. With Garth lying there, looking so innocent and attractive, a powerful surge of desire rocked through her. When she’d been a teenager, she’d blamed the constant need to touch him on rampant hormones. This time, she knew it was the attraction he held for her, as a man.

  He was kind and considerate, thoughtful, and a very giving person. She’d sensed his embarrassment when he’d talked about his work, yet he should be proud of what he’d achieved and of his plans for the future.

  Garth Mackenzie was a good man. And one who was going to be very hard to leave behind when she went back to Sydney in just over three months’ time. Lucy yawned and put her hand over her mouth. It wouldn’t be fair to wake him up and expect him to drive her home. She crossed to the kitchen and opened the door quietly, before stepping onto the verandah and pulling her phone out.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Garth’s internal body clock always woke him before sunrise each morning. He opened his eyes with a start this morning as the first rosy tinge of dawn tinted the sky. The ceiling fan was swirling lazily, and he yawned as he watched it. He lay there for a moment and then jumped up when he remembered Lucy.

  “Shit,” he muttered beneath his breath. He’d hit the couch for a five-minute nap last night and must have gone out like the dead.

  He crossed to the window but his ute was still there. Lucy hadn’t borrowed it, and he hoped she still had enough country savvy not to walk home last night. Her computer was still plugged into the wall and open on his desk, and Garth ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

  How did she get home? Bloody hell, how rude could a man be?

  He padded silently to the kitchen and looked around. Both of the coffee mugs had been rinsed and were draining on the sink. He frowned. Her bag was still on the bench where she’d left it last night, and a smile crossed his face. Her boots were by the back door where she’d slipped them off.

  He crept up the hallway and checked the guest room, where there was a queen-size bed. He’d never made it up, but the bed was empty. He pushed open the door of the second bedroom where there were two single beds, but they were both empty, too.

  With a frown, and hope unfurling in his chest, Garth pushed open the door to his room. Cool air from the spinning fan greeted him, and he peered into the dim room; the blinds were closed. He closed the door quietly behind him and walked across to the bed. A slender, bare leg greeted him where the sheet had been pushed back. Lucy lay on her side, her cheek resting in her hand. As he watched, her eyes opened slowly and she stared up at him.

  “Good morning, Goldilocks.” His voice was husky as he met her gaze.

  “I hope you don’t mind me sleeping over. I didn’t have the heart to wake you up. It was after midnight when I pulled the pin.”

  Garth sat on the edge of the bed and reached over and pushed her tousled hair back from her rosy cheeks. “Not at all. I’m sorry I was such a rude host.” He frowned. “Won’t they be worried over at Prickle Creek?”

  Lucy rolled over onto her back and stretched. Garth tried hard not to stare at the round breasts clearly outlined by her tight T-shirt. He looked away, and his attention landed on her jeans lying on the floor beside the bed.

  Bloody hell. Lucy Bellamy was in his bed and seminaked.

  “No, I called Jemmy and told her I was staying the night.”

  “But won’t they think—”

  Lucy sat up and put her finger over his lips. “Shh, I’m a big girl now. If I want to spend the night in a man’s bed, that’s my choice. Nothing to do with anyone else.” Now her voice was husky and held a teasing note that sent his blood pressure rocketing up near the fan.

  Bloody hell. She’s flirting with me.

  He lifted his hand and held her fingers against his face. Slowly and gently he turned it over and placed his lips on her open palm. Her skin was warm as he murmured against it. “No one else? What about the man? Does he get a say in the matter?”

  “Depends on whether the man wanted me in his bed or not.”

  “Hmm, let me think.” Garth ran his hand along her arm, until his fingers reached around to the back of her neck, and he gently tipped her head back until her eyes met his. “I guess it depends on whether the lady wants to be there or not.” With each word he moved his head closer and watched as Lucy’s lips parted.

  “I think she does” was the reply he wanted to hear. Garth let his lips hover over hers, her breath warming his skin.

  “I think she’s got too many clothes on,” he whispered.

  “I think he does, too.” They were eye to eye, and his breathing quickened as Lucy dropped her hands to the bottom of his T-shirt and pulled it up slowly. When his chest was bare, he reached for her shirt.

  “Fair’s fair.” Her body was soft, pliant against his, and he drew a shuddering breath as he lifted his head. It had been a few months since he’d last been with a woman, but it was more than the time between sexual encounters that was fuelling this need in him.

  “Are you sure, Lucy-Lou?” His voice was throaty with need and he held her gaze.

  “I’m sure.”

  Her mouth was soft beneath his, their first real kiss bringing memories of her sweetness; no one had ever come close to Lucy for Garth. He ran his lips over her mouth, her cheeks, and her forehead, before pressing kisses on her eyelids. As he returned his tongue to the curve of her lips, she opened her mouth to welcome him. Aching with need, he took a deep breath as he lifted his head.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The second time Garth woke up that morning was the most satisfying.

  He smiled and glanced at the clock on the wall.

  “Damn, look at the time.” He brushed a kiss along Lucy’s lips and sat up. “As much as I want to stay here all day, we’re going to have to move. I’ve got to go over and talk to the contractors. They’re due to finish up this afternoon.”

  He headed for the shower and smiled as Lucy padded along behind him. He switched on the jets, thanking his designer for advising him to invest in a shower built for two with the biggest showerhead you could buy. When she opened the door and joined him, her expression was cheeky.

  No matter what it took, he wasn’t going to let her go.

  …

  Lucy stood still as the bright morning sunshine flooded the kitchen. Even though they had made love and slept and then had an extended shower, it was still only eight o’clock. Probably late for Garth to start his day, but if she was at home she’d only be having her first coffee on the balcony of her tiny little apartment before she headed for work.

  She stared out at the sweeping paddocks as far as she could see. The horizon was distant, and the land was flat and brown where the wheat had been harvested, broken only by the red ribbons of dusty roads. The difference between her usual start to the day and this one were worlds apart.

  And not only because of the time with Garth.

  She put what had happened between them this morning in a special place in her thoughts and when she got back to the farm, she was going to think more about it.

  The difference was the environment and the pace of life. There was no noisy traffic roaring past, and the air was fresh and pure. The silence was broken only by the bellow of a beast rubbing up against the fence and the barking of the dogs as Garth went out to feed them.

  She turned away from the window and crossed to the kitchen and switched on the fancy coffee maker
as the door opened and Garth came back inside.

  “The dogs were most indignant about their late breakfast.” He shot her a lazy grin. “I told them it was your fault.”

  “I need breakfast, too.” She opened the fridge and peered in. “Got any yoghurt?”

  “Nope. But I’ve got bacon and eggs.”

  “No thanks. Not for me.”

  Lucy munched on a piece of toast and watched as Garth devoured three poached eggs and four strips of bacon.

  “What are you looking at?” He grinned at her and she shook her head. The atmosphere between them was lighthearted and comfortable.

  “If I ate that much I’d be the size of a house in a week.”

  Garth drained his coffee and stood up. “It’s because I work hard all day while you swan around in the city.”

  She nudged him, knowing he was only teasing her.

  “Come on, lazybones. Sorry to rush you, but I’ll run you back home, and then I’ll head down the back. The contractors are probably wondering where I’ve got to. They’ll send a search party out soon.”

  Lucy crossed to the desk and unplugged her computer. Her email had downloaded while Garth was getting dressed; she’d look at them once she got home. Although Gran was certain to have some jobs lined up for her to do first.

  Her bag rested against the door while she slipped her boots on. “I’m ready.”

  “One more kiss before we go.” Garth’s lips were soft and gentle against hers, and his hands held her lightly. “Come back over tonight? I’ll cook you a real dinner this time.”

  Hesitation laced her words. “I’m not sure.”

  “Why not? I’ll cook a lamb roast for you.” His smile tore at her heart, but he was moving way too fast.

  “Thanks. But no.” She shook her head.

  Disappointment crossed his face, and she relented. If she spent the night with him, it didn’t mean she was going to have to spend the rest of her life out here in the country.

  “All right, you talked me into it, but one thing, Garth.”

  “Hit me with it.” His grin was wide.

  “No expectations. Okay?”

  “Clear as a bell.”

  She hoped that he meant that and didn’t have any plans to try to change her mind. If he stuck to his word, the next three months would be more than bearable.

  A secret smile tilted her lips. Way more than bearable.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Have a good night, Luce?” Seb looked like the cat who’d swallowed the cream as the screen door slammed behind her. “Get all your work done?”

  Her three cousins and her grandmother were all sitting at the kitchen table finishing off their cereal and toast. No bacon and eggs for this house. Maybe she’d have to think about cooking a hot brekkie for the boys before they went out to work each day.

  Lucy had lived by herself since she’d moved to Sydney, and she wasn’t used to “the morning-after” post-mortems. Not by anyone, not unless she’d chosen to share her private life with a close girlfriend, which she hadn’t done very often.

  And certainly not with her cousins, and even worse, not with her grandmother.

  God forbid!

  “Yes, I got a lot of work done over there.” Lucy ignored his teasing. “It was late when I finished my work and Garth had gone to bed, so I bunked down over there.”

  Just a little white lie.

  Heat ran up her neck as Liam stood and crossed to the sink with his cereal bowl, flicking the side of her face with his finger on his way past.

  “Nasty rash you’ve got on your neck there, Luce. Tell Garth to buy some softer pillow cases.” He turned back to her with a knowing smile. “Or if needs be, I can lend him a razor.”

  “Oooh. You two. Stop teasing.” Lucy glared at them, but her lips twitched. Since she was an only child, her cousins had teased her constantly as they’d grown up, and even though it had been a few years, she was well used to it.

  And she loved them for it.

  “Half her luck, I say.” Jemmy’s voice was soft as she looked up over her teacup. “Any more gorgeous neighbours live nearby?”

  Lucy closed her eyes as Gran chimed in. “Leave the girl alone, you lot. It’s her business who she wants to sleep with.”

  Heat flooded Lucy’s face and her hands shook as she filled a glass with water and tried to regain her composure. She felt sixteen years old again.

  Gran continued, and Lucy almost dropped the glass in the sink. “Although Garth Mackenzie has certainly grown into a studly young man.”

  Seb and Liam howled with laughter. “Way to go, Gran!”

  “Studly!” Jemmy’s laugh joined the hilarity. “Oh, Gran, I love that word.”

  “And you tell that young man of yours I owe him a big apology,” Gran said. “I was too quick to judge him. Invite him over for dinner tonight.”

  Lucy put the glass down and turned to find four happy faces, all grinning at her. One week she’d been here, and it was the first time Gran had really smiled. She could put up with their teasing just to see that.

  “I will, and then you can tell him yourself.” And then Garth could put up with some of the teasing. “What’s the plan for today?” she asked brightly.

  “The boys are going to the back paddock to bring in the cattle we mustered yesterday, and then you girls can help weigh and drench.” This time Gran’s expression was challenging as she looked at Lucy.

  “Great, I used to love helping Mum and Dad when they came out to work in the yards.”

  Gran’s expression didn’t falter at the mention of Lucy’s mum. Things were looking up. Gran didn’t like any mention of the past. If Gran and Jemima could put up with the outside farm work, she’d do her best, too.

  “But while they’re out mustering the other paddock, we are going to spend the morning baking.” Gran’s smile got even wider. “The hospital just called. Harry’s coming home late this afternoon.”

  “Oh, that’s fabulous news.” Lucy and Jemima smiled at each other.

  “So get your skates on, girls. We’re going to cook up a storm.” This time she looked over the top of her glasses at Lucy. “And we’re getting a later than normal start.”

  “Can we make your famous chocolate cake?” Lucy widened her eyes as she changed the subject. “Please, Gran, that cake is to die for.”

  Gran nodded and pulled a piece of torn and stained paper from the pocket of her apron. “I’ve already got the recipe out for you two.”

  Lucy scurried off to the bedroom to drop off her laptop and to wash her face in an attempt to relieve the flush of embarrassment.

  The lighthearted atmosphere in the kitchen continued as they greased pans and weighed ingredients. Lucy looked at Jemmy as she washed bowls between cakes. The painted nails were gone, her hair was loose, a smudge of flour dusted her cheek, and she was humming along with the radio as she worked. No one would recognise Jemima Smythe of the Milan catwalk.

  Dust was tinting the horizon in the far paddock where Liam and Seb were out on horseback. Their laughter had drifted in as they’d saddled up together. Prickle Creek Farm was healing each of them in different ways. What was it doing for her? She gazed out the window daydreaming about the morning with Garth as the smell of freshly baked chocolate cake filled the kitchen.

  “Ice the damn cake!” Gran’s voice broke into Lucy’s reverie, and her head flew up. Jemima’s eyes were wide as she stared at Gran.

  “I beg your pardon, Gran?” Lucy said with a frown. No one had ever heard a cuss word cross Gran’s lips, and Lucy and Jemima looked from Gran to each other until a little giggle came from their grandmother. “What did you say, Gran?”

  Gran held up the recipe and waved the paper at them.

  “See, the last line of the recipe says: cream the icing sugar and butter and then ‘ice the damn cake.’”

  Lucy crossed over to Gran and wrapped her arms around her and dropped her head on Gran’s shoulder. “Oh, Gran, it’s so wonderful to hear you laugh.” Lucy fo
ught back a sniff as tears threatened.

  “And it’s good to have you all home.” Gran patted Lucy briskly on the back. “And I can laugh now that—” Gran’s shoulders sagged as she relaxed in Lucy’s arms and her voice broke.

  “What’s wrong?” Lucy looked up at Jemima as fear chilled her blood. What else did Gran have to tell them? Was there more bad news to be imparted?

  “Gran?” Jemima hurried across from the sink, wiping her hands on a towel before throwing it on the countertop.

  Gran shook her head and dug into her pocket for a lace-edged white handkerchief.

  No tissues for her, Lucy thought, even as worry flooded through her.

  Their grandmother pulled away from Lucy’s arms, sat at the table, and dropped her head into her hands as sobs racked her tiny frame. Lucy and Jemima stood beside her, staring at each other in alarm, each with a hand on her shoulder as Gran sobbed into her handkerchief. Great gasping sobs came from her mouth, and she drew in deep breaths between each sob. Lucy crouched down, took the clean towel that Jemima pulled from the drawer, and gently wiped Gran’s face. Jemima held their grandmother’s hand. Lucy clenched her teeth as her throat ached with unshed tears. Finally, Gran spoke, and her voice was hoarse and trembling.

  “I was so scared when Harry went to hospital. It brought back all of the memories of your mothers’ deaths. I was so sure he was going to die. I honestly didn’t know what I would do.”

  “But, Gran, it was only a simple knee operation.”

  Gran lifted her head, and her eyes were fierce. “Yes, but we’re old.”

  Lucy let the first tear roll down her cheek as Gran reached for her hand and gripped it tightly.

  “I couldn’t live without Harry. Since he’s been in hospital, it’s the first time I’ve ever been away from him at night. Ever. We’ve been together since I met him in Israel. I followed him back to the Pilliga and I didn’t even go home to London until we went there together for the wedding.” Her hand shook as she lifted the handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. “Every decision since then, every moment of happiness, has been shared with him, as well as the horror of losing our three daughters. I couldn’t bear it if I lost him, too. I lay there every night imagining he wouldn’t come back to me. My life would be over, too.”