was, and the sandstone homestead was a point of local pride. ‘My great-great-great-grandfather was one of the first settlers in the area. His son built that house.’
‘Is it a farm?’
‘It is. It’s called Kurrajong Station because of all the Kurrajong trees. It’s large for these parts at six thousand hectares.’ It wasn’t a boast, just pure fact.
‘What do you farm?’
That was Tess. He eyed her for a moment. He sure as hell hoped she didn’t have any interests in that direction. ‘Cattle, sheep and wheat mostly.’ And just as soon as he had his forty hectares back he’d be branching out into canola. Diversification would ensure Kurrajong’s future. And once that was all in place, he could leave.
For good.
‘Are we allowed to play in that field?’
Ty glanced up at him hopefully. Cam bit back a sigh. He didn’t have anything against the Save-Our-Town scheme in principle. He mightn’t want to live in Bellaroo Creek any longer, but his station’s prosperity did, to some extent, hinge on the town’s ongoing existence. It was just that in practical terms…
So much for his jealously guarded privacy.
Still, they were just kids. They wouldn’t disturb his peace too much. And kids would be kids—they’d want to explore, kick balls, run. Besides, he sensed that these kids needed more kindness than most. Rather than declare the paddock out of bounds, he found himself saying, ‘You’d better wait till you’ve made friends with my dog first.’
Ty’s face lit up. ‘You have a dog? When can we meet him?’
Cam shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced at Tess. ‘Tomorrow?’
She nodded. ‘Excellent.’
Her cap of dark hair glowed in the sun and her eyes were bigger than they had any right to be. He gave himself a mental kick and turned back to the kids. ‘I want you both to promise me something. If you see a paddock with either cows or big machinery in it, promise you won’t go into it. It could be dangerous.’
They gazed up at him with eyes too solemn for their age and nodded.
Lord, he didn’t mean to frighten them. Smile! ‘We just want to make sure you stay safe, okay?’
They nodded again.
‘And you shouldn’t go outside your own yard or this paddock without letting your auntie Tess know first.’
Tess watched Cam as he talked with the children. His initial gruffness apparently hid a natural gentleness for all those smaller than him. Not that there’d be too many who’d be larger! The longer she watched, the more aware she became of the warmth stealing over her.
She shook it off. She wanted this move to be perfect. She wanted to believe that everyone in Bellaroo Creek would have Ty and Krissie’s best interests at heart. She wasn’t going to let that hope lead her astray, though. Too much depended on her making the right decisions. She swallowed, her heart still burning at the children’s reactions when Cam had startled them—their instinctive fear and suspicion.
She gripped her hands together. Please, please, please let moving to Bellaroo Creek be the right decision. Please, please, please let the children learn to trust again. Please, God, help her make them feel secure and safe, loved.
She relaxed her hands and crossed her fingers. After the initial shaky start, it certainly looked as if the kids had taken to their laconic neighbour. After all, not only did he know how to ride a horse, but he had a dog too. True hero material.
Her gaze drifted down his denim-clad legs and a long slow sigh built up inside her. He could certainly fill out a pair of jeans nicely. With cheeks suddenly burning, she wrenched her gaze away. For heaven’s sake, she hadn’t moved to Bellaroo Creek for that kind of fresh start!
Besides—she glanced up at him through her lashes—Cameron Manning was a man with something on his mind. She’d sensed it the moment he’d stepped out of the shadows of the trees. She had relaxed a little, though, when he’d handed over the key. She had no intention of handing it back. She’d signed a legally binding lease. She’d paid the first year’s rent up front. All fifty-two dollars of it.
The children ran off further down the backyard to explore, but even while she sensed he wanted to talk, she didn’t suggest they go inside to do just that. She wanted to keep an eye on Ty and Krissie. She wanted them to know she was nearby. She wanted to share in the joy of their discoveries. She had every intention of smoothing over any little concerns or ripples that threatened their well-being.
That was her first priority. That mattered a million times more than anything else at the moment. Joy, love and hope— that was what these kids needed and that was exactly what they were going to get.
She shot Cam another half-veiled glance. Still, if he was happy to talk out Here…‘I—’
‘You’re their auntie Tess?’
She blinked.
‘Where are their parents?’
Ah. She’d thought the entire town would know their story considering she hadn’t been reticent about the details in her application. In fact, she’d shamelessly used those details in an attempt to tug on all the unknown heartstrings that would be reading their application.
They walked back towards the house. Tess swooped down to pick up her abandoned coffee from the grass. She chugged back its lukewarm contents and then let the mug dangle loosely from her fingers. ‘Why is your surname different from your mother’s?’
‘I’m the son from her first marriage.’
Right. She nodded towards the children. ‘Their father and mother—my sister—died in a car accident three months ago.’
He stilled. ‘I’m sorry.’
He sounded genuinely sympathetic and her eyes started to burn. Even now, three months down the track and a million tears later, she still found condolences hard to deal with. But Cameron’s voice sounded low and deep—the tone and breadth midway between an oboe and a cello—and somehow that made it easier. She nodded and kicked herself back into an aimless meandering around the yard.
‘Are you interested in farming? In keeping cattle or horses or growing a crop?’
The abrupt change of topic took her off guard. ‘God, no!’ She hoped he didn’t take her horror personally, but she didn’t know the first thing about farming. She didn’t know much about vegetable gardens or keeping chickens either, she supposed, but she could learn. ‘Why?’
‘Because there’s been a bit of a mix-up with the tenancy agreement.’
Her blood chilled. Just like that. In an instant. Her toes and fingers froze rigid. He couldn’t kick them out! He’d given them the key.
The children loved this place. She’d made sure they’d fallen in love with it—had used her enthusiasm and assumed confidence to give it all a magical promise. Ty and Krissie weren’t resilient enough to deal with another disappointment.
And they didn’t deserve to.
‘I mean, yes,’ she snapped out as quickly as she could. ‘Farming is exactly the reason we’re out here.’
He frowned. In fact, it might be described as a scowl. But then he glanced at the kids and it became just a frown again. ‘I beg your pardon?’
She didn’t like the barely leashed control stretching through his voice, but he was not kicking them out. ‘What I’m trying to say is that I’m fully prepared to learn farming if that’s part of my contract.’
She’d gone over the contract with a fine-tooth comb. She’d consulted a solicitor. Her chin lifted. She’d signed a legally binding contract. She had understood it. The solicitor had ensured that. She