reassured, Gray had to ask the question that really bothered him. ‘About Anna’s nightmares—’
‘Yes?’
‘Do you know why she has them? Could it be because she was with Chelsea when it … when the aneurism … happened?’
‘There’s a good chance.’ Holly dropped her gaze to her glass. ‘Chelsea collapsed when she was in the middle of making Anna a peanut butter sandwich.’
It was almost too awful to imagine. Poor Anna. Poor
Chelsea. For a moment he couldn’t think past the horror of it. How helpless and terrified Anna must have felt and, quite possibly, even guilty.
He sighed heavily. ‘Does Josh have nightmares, too?’
Holly’s dark hair rippled as she shook her head. ‘I think Josh is naturally more resilient than Anna. But he rang for the ambulance, so he knows he did everything he could. I’m sure that’s helped him, even if it’s only at some subconscious level.’
It made sense, and the reminder of his son’s quick thinking caused a small glow of pride. But poor Anna shouldn’t feel guilty. ‘There must be so much I need to understand. Is there anything else you should warn me about?’
Frowning, Holly took another sip of wine before she answered. ‘I actually wish Josh showed more signs of grief. He’s been bottling it in and I’m sure a good cry would do him good.’
‘He probably thinks crying is for girls.’
‘Probably. My brothers would agree.’ Holly sighed. ‘He probably needs to be encouraged to talk about it.’
Gray grimaced. Talking about feelings? Sharing emotions with others? That was so not his scene. Weren’t women supposed to be so much better at it than guys? All his life, he’d been a man of action, not words.
Watching him, Holly said, ‘I guess you must be very busy running your ranch. I assume you’ve hired a nanny to help with the children.’
‘Ah …’ Gray drew a sharp breath. ‘So far, I’ve organised a team to look after the mustering, so that frees me up quite a bit. My plan was to wait till I saw Anna and Josh—and saw how they were. I thought I’d take them home, help them to settle in first, then look around for someone suitable.’
He set his empty glass on the coffee table. ‘There wouldn’t be any point in hiring a nanny they didn’t like.’
‘No. It will need to be the right person.’
Holly looked away quickly as if she didn’t want him to see her eyes, but Gray was sure he’d caught a glitter of tears and his throat tightened. He’d expected her to be anxious to be free of his kids, but was she upset at the thought of saying goodbye to them?
It was so difficult for a family to span two hemispheres. There was always someone who missed out.
She turned to him again, her eyes extra-wide. ‘So will Anna and Josh be involved when you choose their new nanny?’
‘They’ll be consulted.’ Gray thought this was only fair. ‘Do you have any advice?’ he added, trying to be diplomatic.
‘I … I’ll give it some thought.’ She shifted her position, uncurling her legs.
He couldn’t help watching. Her legs were long and shapely and her toenails were painted a deep sexy red. In her Oriental dressing gown, with her dark hair shining in the soft light, she made a charming picture. Like a painting.
Girl at Midnight.
He thought how perfect it would be—from his children’s point of view, of course—if Holly could continue on as their nanny. She understood them so well, far better than he did, and they clearly loved her. Added to that, she had teaching skills and, with her help, the transition to Australia would be almost painless.
It would never happen, of course. Holly had already told him she was about to start a new career in the US. Why would she give that up and go all the way to the Australian Outback?
She was a city girl. She was his ex-wife’s cousin, for crying out loud. She was educated and cultured, just as
Chelsea had been. If she hated his place the way Chelsea had, her attitude could rub off on his kids.
Gray realised that Holly was already on her feet.
‘Thanks for the wine,’ she said.
‘Would you like another glass?’
She shook her head. ‘I need to hit the sack. Tomorrow is another day and all that.’
Her voice was tight, so tight it almost cracked. Without another word, she set the wine glass on the kitchen bench and hurried away.
She was upset. Had she been able to tell what he was thinking?
In bed, Gray lay wide awake, his thoughts running amok, trailing through the events of the day, and inevitably through the dizzying highs and lows of his romance with Chelsea. He’d met his children’s mother while she was travelling in North Queensland with a touring American dance troupe, but he’d made so many mistakes … so many wrong turns …
He’d never seen a girl so delicate and fair, so perfectly beautiful in every way. He’d never looked into a woman’s eyes and fallen from a great height.
It had been a classic case of love at first sight, with all the usual symptoms—the thunderbolt to the heart, the obsession.
With the recklessness of youth, Gray had followed Chelsea back to America. In New York he’d courted her with the single-minded passion of a young man desperately in love. A hasty engagement, a wedding in Central Park and a blissful honeymoon in Paris.
Then back to Jabiru Creek Station. To the Outback.
Within the first month, Chelsea had realised her mistake. She’d loved Gray—about that there had never been any doubt—but in the Australian Outback his precious bride had wilted like a flower without water.
His throat ached now as he remembered the tears streaming down her face as she’d confronted him.
We’ve made a mistake, Gray, haven’t we? Don’t you think we should separate now, before this gets too complicated? You’re a good man. I should have been more honest. I didn’t want to hurt you.
Of course, he should have given in then. It was so easy now to look back and to see how foolish and blinded he’d been—how he’d kissed her tears and begged her shamelessly.
You must stay, Chelsea. Please, please give it a go.
It was only a few weeks later that she’d realised she was pregnant so, of course, she’d stayed.
‘You wake him up.’
‘No, you.’
Childish giggling penetrated Gray’s sleep. Damn. Was it morning already?
It had taken him hours to fall asleep and he felt absolutely stuffed, unable to move, like an elephant paralysed by a stun gun. Perhaps, if he lay very still, his children would creep away again and leave him to sleep.
Not a chance. Already small hands were poking and shaking him.
‘Dad! Dad!’
He groaned in a low protest.
‘Daddy!’ That was Anna’s voice, now suddenly panic-stricken.
His eyes snapped open, then he cringed from the bright daylight flooding the room. ‘Good morning,’ he groaned. ‘What time is it?’
‘It’s really late,’ Josh told him. ‘We had breakfast ages and ages ago.’
Gray struggled onto one elbow, yawned and rubbed a hand over sleep-bleary eyes.
‘Are you all right, Daddy?’ Anna still sounded worried.
‘Yeah,