to see them again.’
Janet looked perfect, Holly thought, watching the woman’s happy face glow pink with excitement as she waved to the children.
‘Come inside where it’s warm,’ Janet said when they’d clambered from the car and she’d given them all, including Holly, huge hugs. ‘The chill starts early on these winter afternoons, and I’ve got a heater on in the kitchen.’
As they followed her into the house, which was warm and fragrant with baking smells, Holly thought everything about Gray’s home seemed comfortable and welcoming. Her fears, it seemed, were unwarranted.
Of course, first impressions could be deceiving. No doubt Jabiru Creek Station would soon reveal its downside. There had to be a downside. Right now Holly couldn’t imagine what it might be, but something had driven Chelsea away from here.
THAT evening the sky put on a show, as only Outback skies could. A mass of brilliant crystal stars blazed in the vast black dome that arced from one distant horizon to the other. Gray stood on the front steps, drinking in the silence and the grandeur.
After the non-stop pace of New York, the crowds in the busy airports and the bustle of Sydney, it was good to let the tranquillity of his home seep into his veins. Since Chelsea’s passing he’d been on a constant roller coaster of worry and despair, but tonight he felt calmer than he had in a long time.
Behind him, in the house, Janet was pottering about in the kitchen and he could hear the clink of cutlery and china as she stowed things away in the big pine dresser. Holly was in the bedroom down the hall, putting his children to bed, calming them after the excitement of their arrival, and the discovery of a basket of tiny three-day-old puppies in the kitchen by the stove.
Gray chuckled, remembering the shining adoration in Anna and Josh’s eyes as they’d knelt by the basket, begging permission to pat the little pups that wriggled and squirmed against their mother.
Of course the children had begged to be allowed one puppy each to keep as a pet, and of course Gray had said yes, they could choose their pups as soon as their eyes were open. But no, they couldn’t both have the all black one, and if there was any fighting neither child would have a puppy.
Holly had been a major help, backing him on this ruling and then diverting the children by offering to read them one of their favourite stories about a runaway cocker spaniel.
Already, he owed a great deal to Holly.
She’d been fabulous while they were travelling, keeping Anna and Josh entertained and comfortable, and remembering to tell them what to expect on each leg of the journey. Gray couldn’t help noticing that she wasn’t just capable—she was genuinely fond of his children—and he was beginning to suspect that it would be a real wrench for her to finally be parted from them.
She was quite a surprise package, actually. He’d assumed she was like Chelsea, a city girl born and bred.
Today, however, in her simple T-shirt and jeans, she’d deftly unhooked the notoriously tricky rural gate, and she’d looked every inch the country girl she’d claimed to be.
He recalled the cheeky smile she’d tossed over her shoulder when she’d told him that she’d grown up on a farm. Her dark eyes had sparkled and her lips had curled and—
‘Gray.’
Holly’s voice brought him swinging round.
She was standing in the doorway and she smiled shyly. ‘Two little people are waiting for their goodnight kiss.’
‘Right.’ He spoke a little too gruffly because she’d caught him out. ‘Thanks.’
He crossed the veranda to where she stood, backlit by the light spilling down the hall. Her dark eyes were shining and her pretty lips were pink and soft and wonderfully inviting…
It would be so easy, so tempting to ask his children’s nanny if she’d like a goodnight kiss, too. She was kissing close and she smelled of flowers and—
And the last thing Gray wanted was to start flirting with Chelsea’s young cousin when she’d come to his home as an especially kind favour to his kids.
I must be one post short of a fence.
Relieved that he’d come to his senses in time, he strode on past Holly, down the passage to the room where Anna and Josh were waiting.
Holly lay snuggled beneath a soft, warm duvet in a pretty room that had one doorway leading to a hallway and another onto a veranda. She listened to the night sounds of the Outback, which amounted to silence mostly, punctuated by the occasional owl hoot or the soft, distant lowing of cattle. She thought how amazing it was that she could be so far from Vermont and still hear the same sounds she’d grown up with.
After the long journey she was dog-tired and tonight she’d broken the habit of a lifetime and left the book she was currently reading unopened on her nightstand. Right now, she simply wanted to take a moment, before sleep claimed her, to relive her first evening at Jabiru.
Already, to her surprise, she’d found much to like—this pleasant bedroom, for example, and its old-fashioned double bed with gorgeous brass ends, and the big homey kitchen filled with timber dressers and tempting aromas. The children’s room was similar to hers, but was cheery with matching multi-coloured duvets, and Holly really liked the inviting verandas scattered with cane loungers, not to mention the cuter than cute puppies that had so enchanted the children.
She even liked the scents of grass and animals and dust that filtered in from the outdoors. She felt amazingly at home here and, despite the flight inland to Normanton and the long car journey, she found it difficult to remember she was miles and miles from anywhere. She’d expected to feel lonely and isolated, but she only had to look out of her window to see the lights of the stockmen’s cottages twinkling in the darkness like friendly stars.
She thought about Chelsea and wondered how she’d felt on her first night in Gray Kidman’s home. As a born and bred New Yorker, she might have found it all very strange. The children seemed to have settled in happily enough, however, although Gray wasn’t as relaxed as she’d expected. Actually, there was something about him that puzzled her.
Most of the time, he had an air of quiet confidence and competence that was very reassuring. But every so often she caught a hint of his vulnerability, lying surprisingly close beneath his strong exterior. She’d glimpsed it at times when she’d least expected it—like tonight when she’d called him in to say goodnight to Anna and Josh.
Was he more worried about his new responsibilities than she’d realised? Was he scared that his children would soon grow tired of this place and want to hightail it back to New York?
Somehow, Holly didn’t think that was likely and she would do her best to make sure Anna and Josh settled in smoothly but, after Chelsea’s reaction to Jabiru, she could understand Gray’s concern.
As she nestled more snugly under the duvet, she remembered there was one other thing about Gray that had bothered her—
His books.
Or, rather, the lack of his books.
Where were they?
As a lifelong lover of the written word, Holly had always found herself sneaking peeks at other people’s bookshelves. It wasn’t so much that she was looking for books to read—this time she’d brought a good supply and she could easily order more over the Internet—but she’d always been fascinated by what books revealed about their owners—their hobbies and interests and tastes in fiction.
For her, books had always been a kind of getting-to-know-you shortcut. So far, in Gray’s house, she’d seen a few recipe books and women’s magazines in the kitchen, but they were obviously Janet’s. Where were Gray’s books?
Perhaps