Rebecca Winters

Rags To Riches Collection


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like his tone much either. Last month the old Nicola would’ve shrugged it off and tried to ignore it, but not the new improved version of Nicola McGillroy. No, sirree.

      ‘One—’ she held up a finger ‘—I’m here to do a job and I don’t need anyone else to do it for me. I can carry my own weight.’ She just wasn’t prepared to carry anyone else’s any more. ‘And two, I should be allowed a few moments’ quiet time every now and again without you jumping on me with that you’re-ruining-Christmas tone in your voice.’

      She had no intention of ruining Christmas for Cade and his family. It was why she’d stolen from the living room earlier. All that Christmas gaiety had filled her with such unexpected longing it had stolen her breath and knocked her sideways... For a moment she’d thought she might burst into tears.

      She shuddered. How would she have explained that?

      ‘I didn’t mean to jump on you.’

      The shock in his voice shamed her. All he was trying to do was give his kids and family a nice Christmas. Her hang-ups weren’t his fault. She gripped her hands together. She only had to put up with all this Christmas cheer for another week and a half.

      Fortitude was never your strong point was it, Nicola Ann?

      She gritted her teeth. This wasn’t much different from keeping a class entertained at school. She could do that with one hand tied behind her back. This was just a job.

      She dragged in a breath. ‘Okay then, let’s get back to it.’ She clapped her hands. ‘I’ve taken the three deep breaths I needed to resist that bowl of chocolate sultanas. My healthy eating plan is still intact. Besides, I don’t think we’ve had a rendition of “Good King Wenceslas” yet and that’s one of my favourites.’

      ‘No.’

      The single word brought her up short, as did the hand curling about her upper arm and preventing her from going anywhere. ‘No?’ Why not? She’d just agreed to what he wanted, hadn’t she?

      ‘This isn’t just a job!’

      She begged to differ, but wisely kept her mouth shut. Cade’s vehemence ensured that. Parents hated reminders that teaching little Johnny or Jane was actually a job and not the blessing and privilege they considered it.

      Besides, if she pointed out to Cade that her title was in fact Nanny and not Friend or Family Member, it would give him the wrong impression. It would make it sound as if she didn’t really care for Ella and Holly when she did. She adored them.

      It didn’t change the fact that this was still a job, though, and that no matter how much Cade and his family welcomed her into their fold, it still didn’t make her one of them.

      It wasn’t anything to be bitter about. It wasn’t anything to be hurt about. It was the truth, plain and simple.

      Oh, but how she wished she had a family like his!

      The warmth of his hand on her arm filtered into her consciousness. The pulse in her throat fluttered to life. ‘Unhand me, sir.’ Although she struggled for light, the words came out husky.

      Cade released her, but he stood so close she could smell the clean scent of soap on his skin. She gulped. Starlit night, a guy and girl alone...

      Stop it! She knew her musings were nonsensical and that in all likelihood Cade hadn’t even noticed the stars, or the fact that she was a woman. It still took a concerted effort to ease back a step when, by rights, the thought should’ve had her running for the hills.

      Classic rebound reaction, she told herself, her lips twisting in mockery at her own weakness. ‘If you don’t want me to return inside, what is it you would like me to do?’

      ‘I want you to listen.’

      He didn’t say anything else. A long moment passed. ‘To?’ she prompted.

      He took her arm again and all that warm maleness flooded her senses. The latent strength of him set her nerves jangling. He led her to a bench, urged her to sit and then released her again.

      ‘I want to tell you why Christmas is so important for me, for Waminda Downs, and for Ella and Holly this year.’

      Instinct told her that she didn’t want to hear what he was about to say. She wanted to get up and walk away. She had enough issues of her own to deal with, without adding his to the score. But when she looked up into his face, she found she didn’t have the strength to do that. Just for a moment he looked as tired and defeated as she felt each morning when she woke up. Before she’d had a chance to remind herself that she was on a cattle station in the Outback and that she had a riding lesson that very morning to look forward to.

      He eased down beside her. She studied him for a moment—the downturned mouth, the slumped shoulders, the way it seemed an effort to draw breath into his lungs, and a lump formed in her throat. It was obvious he needed to share this with someone. Why not the temporary nanny who’d be gone again in six weeks’ time?

      It’s just a job, she reminded herself.

      But it felt like so much more and she didn’t know when that had happened. She bit back a sigh. So much for keeping her distance.

      He was sitting beside her on the bench in the warm night air, their arms and shoulders not quite touching. This time she didn’t prompt him. She sat there and stared out at the sky, breathing him in and waiting.

      Finally he spoke. ‘Last Christmas was our first Christmas without Fran.’

      Her heart clenched at the pain in his voice.

      ‘She’d left about four months earlier, but...’

      He dipped his head and raked his fingers through his hair. She reached out and laid a hand on his forearm. The muscles tensed beneath her fingertips. ‘You really don’t have to tell me any of this, you know?’

      He laid his other hand over hers and squeezed it, and then he placed her hand back in her lap. It felt like a rejection but she didn’t know why. She stared straight out in front of her and focused on her breathing.

      ‘I think it’s probably best if you know.’

      She didn’t say anything, just gave a curt nod.

      ‘Fran left us all here at Waminda in late August and went to Brisbane.’ He paused. ‘I thought she just needed a break. It can be hard getting used to the isolation of a cattle station, and with two small children—one barely three months old—I could understand her going a bit stir-crazy.’

      Nicola frowned. ‘You mean...you’re saying she left Ella and Holly here?’

      Even in the dimness she could see him smile, but it didn’t hold any mirth. ‘That’s what I’m saying.’

      She bit her tongue and turned back to stare straight out in front of her. She couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to leave Ella and Holly behind, not for any reason. Unless... ‘Post-natal depression?’

      ‘That’s what she told me. She was seeing a therapist. I even spoke to the damn therapist.’

      She understood his frustration, his anger, but... ‘She wouldn’t have been able to help it, you know.’

      The smile he sent her held a world of weariness. ‘Depression was something I was fully prepared to deal with, Nicola. I’d have done anything I could’ve to help her through it. I set her up in an inner city apartment so she could see her therapist as often as she needed, and so she could have the change of scenery she claimed to so badly need. I wired her as much money as she asked for. I took the girls to visit as often as I could, and all the while I made endless excuses for her distance and her erratic behaviour. I mean depression, right? It’s out of her control. I might be doing it tough, but she was doing it a whole lot tougher, right?’

      With each right his voice rose. She swallowed and nodded. ‘Right,’ but her voice came out on a breath of uncertainty. She gripped the edge of the bench and turned to face him fully. ‘But?’