Christmas with her Boss (15 page)

And Elinor heard it—he knew she did. ‘There's so many needy children out there,' she said, her voice growing sombre. ‘You know that. There's always more to be looked after.'

And he heard her pain as well. She'd be giving up these children and moving on. ‘Oh, Elinor.' She loved with all her heart. You didn't love without hurting. Where had he learned that? Was he just starting?

‘Yeah, it hurts,' she said across his thoughts, and he could
almost see her steeling herself. ‘But, if you don't love, then you might as well stop living. This family live right nearby so we'll see each other in the park. So how about you? Will we see you tomorrow? I mean, today?'

‘My flight won't get in until late.'

‘Oh, the children will be disappointed,' she said, but in a tone that said not too disappointed; they were about to meet their new mommy and daddy. What more did children need for Christmas?

‘So you'll be flying all Christmas,' she said. ‘I'm so sorry.'

‘There's no need to be sorry,' he said, startled.

‘Well, there is,' she said, and she sounded truly concerned. ‘It's time you stayed put. I know you're important and I know you're busy but you have a good heart, Mr McMaster, and it's time you found somewhere to park it. I've done my share of parking in my time, but have you? You need to find somewhere you can leave it for good.'

The train had streamed through the town and out the other side. Reception was starting to break up. He could barely hear.

Maybe it was just as well, William thought. What sort of advice was this? He wished her Merry Christmas, but he didn't hear a response. He clicked off his phone and stared out of the window. Trying not to replay her words.

‘Bad news?' the young mother asked.

‘I…no. Good news, really.'

‘You don't look like it was good news.'

‘It's okay.'

He wanted to tell her about it. Only…if he told her…how could he make it sound like good news? She'd guess how he felt, he thought, as Elinor had guessed. As Meg would guess?

He wanted to tell Meg.

When the day's over, snuggling down and talking about it…

Such a thing wasn't for him. For a McMaster to…snuggle…Unthinkable.

He stared out at the sparse Australian landscape, so unlike Manhattan, and he thought of his family—the McMaster dynasty. Damaged people all. Deeply unhappy. Poisoned by wealth and by social expectations. Unhappy unions had created unhappy children, and on it went, for generation after generation, spreading outward.

How could he ask someone to join such a family?

He couldn't. He'd sworn he never would. But, if not…

The thought came from nowhere, and it started as a jumble. A Christmas tree with decorations from childhood. Letty's mango trifle. Cows and dogs. Gumboots parked at the back door. Meg's laughter…

Crazy Santa legs. Scott amid a jumble of Mini parts. The feel of Meg against him in the emergency room.

This was a family so unlike his own it was unbelievable, and the jumbled thought unravelled, settled and finally left a clear thought that was amazing.

If his family was unworkable…

Maybe he could join another?

The conductor was coming through now, checking tickets and, before he could take the thought any further, he found himself asking, ‘Is there another train tonight?'

‘To where?'

‘To where I got on.'

‘To Tandaroit? You have to be joking. Once a day to Tandaroit. Next train leaves tomorrow night from Melbourne.'

‘Do you want to go back?' the woman across the way asked as the conductor moved on.

‘Maybe,' William said, feeling dazed.

‘To the girl you were kissing on the station?'

And there it was, front and centre. The girl he'd been kissing on the station.

‘Who is she?' the woman asked and he managed a smile.

‘She was Miss Jardine,' he said softly. ‘But now…her name is Meg.'

M
EG
liked Christmas night
,
or she always had. Christmas was huge, busy, noisy, fun, and it left her happy. Even the first appalling Christmas after the accident, she and Letty had managed to make it fun and she'd slept that night feeling just a little bit optimistic about the future.

So why wasn't she feeling optimistic now?

Kerrie stayed and helped with the milking while Letty and Scott cleaned up inside and minded the children. After tea, they loaded the sleeping children into Kerrie's car and bade them goodnight. Kerrie drove off and Meg found herself feeling jealous. Kerrie would be snuggling the children into bed.

Um… Kerrie was a struggling single mother who worked herself raw. Was she jealous because she had babies?

Was she jealous of what they represented?

Scott and Letty went to bed, tired and happy after what they decreed had been an awesome Christmas. ‘We should invite William every year,' Scott said sleepily and Meg felt even more bereft.

The dogs had eaten too many leftovers. They were asleep; useless as company.

She went across to the home paddock to talk to Millicent, but Millicent was snoozing as well.

She walked back to the house, kicking stones, disconsolate. Santa was still waving back and forth in his chimney.

‘I wonder if I can shoot him down with one of the bazookas?' she asked herself but she couldn't dredge up a smile.

She didn't want to smile. She wanted to wallow.

She climbed into her pyjamas and went to bed. She thumped her pillows for a while, then gave up and headed back into the kitchen to pour herself the last of the eggnog. She stared into its depths and then carefully tipped it down the sink.

‘Let's not drown our sorrows here,' she told herself. ‘We need to be nice and sober to read the Job Vacancy ads tomorrow.'

She sniffed. ‘Ooh, who's maudlin? And I haven't even drunk my eggnog.'

William would be back in Melbourne now. She looked at her watch. No. William would be in the sky.

She glanced out of the window at the stars beyond. Nothing and nothing and nothing.

And…something. A tiny light, growing brighter.

It was a small plane, she thought, low in the east. Some private charter, going places now the restrictions were lifted. Good for them.

The light was getting brighter. Brighter still. And the sound…

Not a plane, then. A helicopter.

Closer still. Low and fast.

Who…?

And then she thought…

No
.

Yes?

This was stupid. She was imagining things. Maybe there'd been an accident somewhere close and this was an air transfer. That'd be it.

But it was over their land now. Hovering. Lights were beaming down.

It'd panic the cows.

But, even as she thought it, she realised it wasn't hovering over the cow pastures. The paddock underneath was at the eastern extremity of the property, where the hay had been slashed only yesterday.

Whoever was in the chopper knew the paddock was bare. Knew the paddock was safe.

It'd be… It'd be…

She daren't think who it'd be.

It wouldn't be William.

But the chopper was on her land.

The dogs had heard. Killer was at the kitchen door, his head to one side, listening.

‘I'll take you with me,' she told him, and then as the rest of the pack appeared, she nodded. ‘Okay, maybe I do need protection. Let's all go and investigate.'

 

He stood in the paddock and he thought, whoa, it's a long way to the house. He knew he couldn't scare the cows; he knew this paddock would be a safe place to land, but still…

‘Where's a limousine when you need it?' The pilot was enjoying himself. Yes, he'd been pulled away from his family Christmas, but he'd had his Christmas dinner and the bonus he'd been promised made him very happy indeed. ‘Maybe I could take you over the house and lower you on a rope,' he told him, grinning, and William thought, where's the respect? He'd made the mistake of chatting to Steve about his family, and look where it got him.

And then he saw Letty's wagon bumping across the paddocks and he stopped thinking about Steve—he stopped thinking of anything but Meg.

Was it Meg? The car came to a halt, the driver's door
opened, but, before he could see who it was five dogs tumbled out, enveloping him in a sea of canine ecstasy.

He'd been at the farm for three days. By the dogs' reaction, they were his lifelong friends and he'd been gone for years.

He kind of liked it. But still… Hopefully, Meg was behind them. He managed to shove the dogs aside. The pack descended on Steve, who backed into his cockpit. The dogs jumped right up after him. Hopefully, the machine was hard to start, otherwise they risked flight by dog. Whatever, William was too busy looking at Meg to do anything about it.

For she was here.

She was wearing…pyjamas? Pink silk with tiny stars and moons all over. Silver stars. His sense of unreality deepened. Her hair was messed as if she'd been asleep. She looked rumpled and sexy and so fabulous he wanted to scoop her into his arms right then and there.

Think of something to say, Stupid, he told himself but he was having trouble. Tonight had made sense to him at the planning stage. Now he was having trouble getting started.

‘You had to bring the dogs,' he managed, as a muffled grunt emerged from the cockpit.

‘Anyone could be landing in our hay paddock. On the chance that you could be enemy alien cow poachers…'

‘You came wearing pyjamas?'

‘I have a loaded bazooka under these pyjamas.'

He eyed the pyjamas. They were silky and clinging and…

No. Don't think of what might or might not be under those pyjamas. Definitely not a bazooka.

What to say? He gazed at Meg, at her adorably confused face, at her wonderful stars and moons, at her dishevelled hair. This was Meg, the woman he loved with all his heart, and he knew he had to go forward.

The woman he loved with all his heart…

When had he figured this out? Just then, he thought. He'd known he had to come. He'd planned to come. But now, looking at her, he knew for sure.

All those corny movies he'd watched as a lonely child…they were right. Throw your hat into the ring. Jump.

‘I had to come back for you,' he said simply, his gaze not leaving her face.

‘I said I couldn't come with you,' she whispered, sounding awed.

‘You don't need to come. I didn't come back to fetch you. I came back to be with you.'

‘P…pardon?'

‘I came back because I love you,' he said, strongly now, more sure. ‘I came back because when it came down to it I couldn't leave.'

‘You love me?' She said it wonderingly, and he knew the alien thing was still in her mind. She said it as if his words were some sort of fantasy that had no connection to reality.

It was up to him to make her see this was real. That this was true.

‘I do love you.' It was as serious as any wedding vow. He took a step towards her but she held up her hands as if to ward him off. As if she was afraid.

Behind him, Steve was still surrounded by dogs. He couldn't be holding five collars, yet the dogs were all still. It was as if they sensed how important this was.

Was this important to a chopper pilot? To dogs?

Why not? It was the whole world to him.

‘Meg, I need to know,' he said roughly, because he couldn't bear to wait a moment longer. ‘When you talked about loving… Did you mean it? That you could love me?'

‘I might,' she whispered, and his world settled. Things were falling into place that he'd never realised were out of kilter
until now. That he'd known this woman for three long years and not loved her… How could he have been so blind?

How could he waste another moment? It was killing him not to take her into his arms but he knew he shouldn't.

Do not rush this.

As if falling in love in three days, hiring a helicopter in the middle of the night, telling her he wanted her right now, wasn't rushing things.

Okay, do not rush this even more.

So say it. Lay the whole plan on the line.

‘I can move here,' he said and Meg's face froze.

‘Here?'

‘It's not impossible.'

‘I think I need to sit.'

‘Can I hold you up?'

‘Not until I figure what you're talking about.'

‘My plans.'

‘I like plans,' she said faintly. ‘Okay, talk.'

So he talked. ‘I'll explain fast,' he said, and it had to be fast because if he didn't hold her soon he'd go up in smoke. ‘I propose to base myself here. No, wrong, I propose we base ourselves here, because I need you, Meg, in business, in every facet of my life. You're smart and intuitive and funny and I want you with me every step of the way. So what I'd really like is to build here, set up headquarters here. Keep the farm but add to it. We'd need a helicopter pad. I fancy a swimming pool. And I bet a gymnasium would really help Scott.'

‘Scott…'

‘He's part of it. He's part of your life. Family.'

‘William…'

‘I know,' he said hurriedly, afraid to stop, afraid of how she'd respond. ‘It's just it was a really long train ride back to Melbourne, and making plans is what I'm principally good at. I thought we could restore the old cottage on the other
side of the dairy and ask Kerrie if she'd consider living here. Letty told me it was a dream of yours and it sounds good to me. That means we'd always have a milker on hand. Then…maybe we could employ a nanny…'

‘A nanny,' she said, astonished.

‘For Kerrie's kids,' he said hurriedly. ‘And for…for whoever else might come along. That means you and I can travel, whenever we wish. There's so much… It'll take us years to sort it out, but we will. We can. If we want to. If you want to. What…what do you think?'

There was a long, long pause. The enemy alien cow poacher was still in the back of her mind, he thought, but slowly, slowly, he watched her expression change. She was searching his face and what she saw seemed to change things.

‘I think…' she whispered, but then her voice firmed. ‘I think I'd never leave our kids with a nanny,' she said, and suddenly the woman in the pink silk pyjamas was smiling.

His heart gave a leap.
I'd never leave our kids…
There were all sorts of assumptions in that statement, and he liked them all.

‘How many kids would you like?' he asked tenderly.

‘William!'

Maybe he had to throw in a few more inducements. Maybe he still didn't have it right. How to talk of love… It seemed so fragile—and all he had was words. Not now.

‘You know, Letty and Scotty could travel with us too, if they like,' he said hurriedly. ‘They could see Manhattan. And London and Hong Kong. I think they'd like it. But I'm serious about only travelling when I must.' He hesitated. ‘You know, I didn't get this right. My parents taught me personal stuff was a disaster so I buried myself in work. But you…you enjoy what you do for me, yes?'

‘I love it,' she said simply.

‘Yet you love the farm.'

‘Yes.'

‘As I like pulling silencers off cars.'

‘Do you?'

‘I do,' he said and it was a vow. She was looking at him very strangely but he'd started—he had to explain. And he was struggling to explain it to himself.

Words… Find the right words, he told himself. Get it right.

Say the love word.

‘I've been thinking…if I could mix grease guns with business, then maybe I could mix loving in there somewhere as well,' he tried, but it didn't sound right.

‘In the spare bits?'

‘No,' he said, sure of himself on this one. ‘In all my bits. In my business. In my spare time, in my hobbies, in my dreams. I want loving in all of it. Meg, I want you.'

She looked stunned. She looked star-struck. ‘You're truly serious?'

And there was only one answer to that. ‘I've never been more serious about anything in my life,' he said simply. ‘No matter what happens, at the end of every day of my life I want to lie in bed with you.'

‘And…talk?' she managed, and there was the beginning of laughter in her lovely eyes.

‘Or anything else that might occur to us,' he told her, smiling, loving her with all his heart, and suddenly she chuckled, a lovely deep ripple of wonder, and he thought he might just have got this right.

‘So will you marry me?' he asked, for what else was there to say?

She gasped. ‘You want to marry me?'

‘Yes.' Then… ‘But I do have a problem,' he was forced to admit. ‘Try as I might, Christmas night is not a time to buy a ring.'

‘Not?' she said and she laced her voice with such a depth of disappointment that he wasn't sure where the chuckle ended and sincerity began.

Aargh. He had everything right except this. But then Killer took a leap from the chopper and lumbered over. Dangling from his collar was his dog tag. It was a ring—of sorts.

‘Excuse me, Killer,' he said and flicked off the collar and removed the tag. ‘Can I borrow this until the shops reopen?'

‘I don't believe this,' Meg said faintly.

‘We need to organise new tags, anyway,' William said, refastening the collar. ‘I'm shipping Sheeba out here as soon as I possibly can.'

‘You're shipping Sheeba…'

‘I figure you have one dog; Letty has two and Scott has two. When I decided to stay, I took out my Christmas card and stared at the picture of Sheeba and thought—how could I turn my back on such a fine gift? But I'm not doing part-time anything any more, so she gets to be full-time. I'm hoping she likes being a farm dog, but how could she not?' And then, because this seemed as good a time as any, he dropped on one knee and held out the dog tag. ‘So, Miss Jardine…'