‘I was hoping you could mind Mollie for me.’
Gemma gulped. While she adored Mollie, she knew absolutely zilch about caring for babies. She pressed her lips tightly together before she verbalised any of the sudden doubts that swamped her. Of course she could mind a baby. Millions of women all over the world had been doing it for centuries without turning a hair. ‘I’d love to have her,’ she said with a bright smile.
Isobel reached out and squeezed Gemma’s hand. ‘I’m sorry I’ve dumped this on you at such short notice, but I wouldn’t trust anyone else to look after my little girl. My parents are on holiday in Spain, as you know. Dave’s father is too old—and it has to be someone I know well. Someone who cares about Mollie. Not a nanny I’ve never met. Honestly, Gem, you’re my best friend and, working from home as you do, I couldn’t think of anyone better.’
‘I’m flattered that you trust me,’ Gemma responded warmly, but she couldn’t help adding, ‘You do realise, don’t you, that I—I don’t have much experience with babies. Actually—I don’t have any experience with them.’
‘Oh, Gemma, you’ve been around Mollie heaps. And you’ll be amazed how it all comes so instinctively. I’m sure you’re a natural!’ She gave her daughter a motherly hug. ‘And Mollie’s really quite a good little poppet.’
‘Of course,’ Gemma responded quickly, not wanting to alarm her friend. ‘She’s a darling.’ When she thought about Dave’s desperate plight and Isobel’s brave decision to go to Africa, Gemma knew she could hardly make a fuss about caring for one perfectly harmless and tiny human being.
Her friend’s grey eyes brightened. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said, ‘I’ve rung Max. I’m sure he’ll be happy to help you any way he can.’
‘Max?’ Gemma had been playing with Mollie’s pink toes, but at the mention of Dave’s older brother Max, her head jerked up. ‘I won’t need any help from him!’
To her annoyance, Gemma’s heart began a fretful pounding.
Since she’d been six years old, Max Jardine had always managed to get under her skin. When they were teenagers, Gemma had never been able to understand why the girls in the outback town of Goodbye Creek, where she and the Jardine boys had gone to school, had scored Max a ‘hunk factor’ of ten. They had raved about his well-toned body and dark good looks.
‘But you’ve seriously overlooked his personality defects,’ she’d pointed out.
‘What defects?’ the girls had scoffed.
And Gemma had rolled her eyes in disgust. She was well-acquainted with his faults. She’d spent half her childhood on the Jardine’s property, camping and canoeing or horse-riding with Dave, and Max had always been in the background, treating her like a bad smell that hung around his brother.
In the years since she’d left the outback she’d only seen Max a handful of times, but nothing had changed. He still looked on her as a lower life-form. She shook her head. ‘Max Jardine would know even less than I do about caring for a baby.’
Isobel was regarding Gemma strangely. ‘I didn’t realise you were so touchy about Max.’
‘I’m not touchy about him,’ Gemma snapped.
Isobel’s eyebrows rose. ‘If you say so.’
‘It’s just that I fail to see how a man who spends his whole life marooned in the outback like a hermit with only cattle for company could be any use when it comes to minding Mollie.’
‘Maybe you’re right,’ Isobel agreed cautiously. ‘But let’s not forget that Max is Dave’s brother. I had to let him know what had happened.’
Gemma could hardly deny that, but it didn’t help her to feel any better. ‘How did he react?’ she asked warily.
‘Actually, I couldn’t speak to him directly. There was no answer when I rang through to the property this morning, so I left a message on his answering machine. He must be out in the bush mustering or maybe fencing, so I simply explained what I was going to do.’
‘And you told him I would be taking care of Mollie?’
‘I said that was my plan.’
‘I see.’
Gemma decided there and then that if Max Jardine knew she’d been asked to care for Mollie, she would mind this baby as expertly as a triple-certificated nanny. This wasn’t just a case of helping out her best friend. She didn’t want to give Mollie’s grumpy Uncle Max one tiny chance to criticise her.
Exactly why Gemma cared about Max’s opinion was an issue she didn’t have time to consider now. She was too busy worrying about how she could mind Mollie and carry on her business.
But she would find a way. She might collapse in the attempt, but she would give it her best shot.
Lifting Mollie from Isobel’s arms, Gemma cuddled her close. The baby girl was soft and warm and smelt delicious. ‘Tell me everything I need to know about our little darling.’
‘Oh, Gem. I’m so relieved. I knew I could depend on you.’ Isobel let out a relieved sigh. ‘I can give you everything you’ll need for Mollie. In fact, my bag’s packed and I have it all in the car.’
‘You mean you’re heading off today?’
‘It’s important that I get to Dave as fast as I can. I’ll get Mollie’s things for you now.’
‘Sure,’ Gemma replied, more confidently than she felt. ‘You get the baby gear and I’ll make us some coffee.’
By the time she’d drunk her coffee, Gemma’s mind was reeling. She had three closely written pages of detailed instructions about caring for Mollie. At the outset, Isobel had said minding a baby was simple, but Mollie came with more operating instructions than a state-of-the-art computer.
How could one little scrap require so much work? And how, she wondered, after she’d waved goodbye to Isobel, could she suddenly manage Mollie and her business? She looked at the pink and white bundle in her arms and tried to suppress a surge of alarm. She had immediate deadlines to meet and there was the constant need to drum up new clients.
Mollie’s round little eyes stared solemnly up at her, reminding Gemma of an unblinking owl. Her heart melted. ‘Kiddo, it’s just you and me now. And we’re not going to let this lick us.’ She dropped a quick kiss on Mollie’s curly head. Then she walked briskly back up the path to her flat, determined to tackle this task in as businesslike a fashion as possible.
A swish of tyres behind her brought her spinning around. In her driveway, a taxi was pulling up and a tall, rangy figure leapt from the passenger’s seat.
Max Jardine!
How in tarnation had he got from Western Queensland to Brisbane so quickly?
‘Gemma!’ Max barked as he swung open her front gate and strode towards her. His piercing blue eyes were fixed on Mollie. ‘Where’s Isobel?’
‘Hello, Max. Nice to see you, too,’ Gemma replied coolly while her heart thudded. Max switched his gaze to her and he glared as ferociously as a headmaster scowling at an unmanageable pupil. Suddenly, she felt extremely self-conscious—as if her skirt was too short, her black stockings too sheer, or her platform heels too high. No matter how much decorum she’d acquired over the years, this older brother of Dave’s always, always, always made her feel like a silly little girl. ‘How did you get here so quickly?’ she demanded.
‘I flew. I got in early this morning from checking out the back country and found Isobel’s message on the answering machine.’
Gemma remembered that she’d been told Max had invested in his own light aircraft.
‘Well, Isobel’s already left for Eagle Farm airport. You probably passed her.’
Max