Life Support: Escape to the Country (9 page)

“That’ll be Tom home,” Judy said with a smile. She glanced at the clock on the wall. “He’s later than I expected. He must have had trouble moving the sheep.”

The door opened and Emma felt the cold night breeze wrap around her legs before the door was slammed shut again. She pictured Judy’s husband, standing at the back door pulling off his work boots. After working on the farm all day he’d be starving too.

Judy saw her shiver. “Sometimes we get snow as late as October, but once it gets hot, it’ll be stinking hot ’til the middle of March.”

Emma nodded. She still remembered how cold it could get in Birrangulla in winter.

Judy left the kitchen and shuffled down the hallway to the back door, calling out as she went. “Hello Tom darling. What a long day. What time did Ruby and Chris leave?”

“Around six thirty.” Emma heard the deep and husky sound of a man’s voice. He sounded younger than she’d been expecting.

“Did you get much done today?” Judy asked.

“Heaps. The stables will be ready in the next few days. Ruby can’t wait for the first horses to arrive next week.”

Emma’s ears pricked up at the mention of horses. She’d never ridden, but had always wanted to.

“Horses are a lot of work. I hope we’re making the right decision.”

“It’s fine Mum. These ones won’t be that much trouble. They’ll spend the days eating grass in the paddocks and all we have to do is bring them into the stables at night. If there’s any problems we call the vet or the owners.”

“Ruby won’t be able to ride them though, which will be hard for someone so horse-crazy.”

“Trust me, at this stage, she doesn’t care. Being around them will be enough.”

Judy laughed. “And trust
me,
that will last about two weeks and she’ll be begging you two for a horse.”

“Whose car is that out the front?”

Seconds later a man’s silhouette filled the doorway. Emma looked up and stifled a gasp as shock swelled within her. It only took a split second to realize exactly who Judy’s Tom was. How had she not connected the dots? Emma retrieved her jaw from the ground and attempted to swallow. No wonder Judy had seemed so familiar. Emma’s mum Lorraine and Judy Henderson had gone through radiation and chemotherapy together after their breast cancer.

Tom was Judy’s
son
.

Emma’s Tom.

Once she remembered to breathe again, Emma stared at him in astonishment. Her heart was beating so hard she was surprised he couldn’t hear it from the other side of the room. Age and time had been kind to him. Exceptionally kind. If possible, he appeared taller – he had to be at least six foot four now – and he’d filled out in all the right places. She exhaled in a rush. The adult version of Tom Henderson was far sexier than the one she remembered in her dreams.

The shadow of a day’s stubble covered Tom’s face and his thick dark hair looked like it had been unfairly trapped under a hat all day. Emma had to curl her fingers into a tight fist to stop from reaching out to give him a hug and tousle his hair. He twirled the well-worn felt hat in his hands and she knew she’d been right. He’d been out working on the farm all day, his Akubra crammed on his head. Striking blue eyes sparkled.

Small lines fanned out from the corners, crinkling as he frowned at her in recognition. “Emma O’Connor?”

How was he going to react to her standing in his house? She didn’t have to wonder for long.

When his fingers closed over hers, the gentleness of his touch surprised her. She hadn’t expected his hands to feel so smooth and soft. She dragged her gaze back up to his face – his determined jaw and slightly crooked nose – she remembered he’d broken it in a school football match. She’d been there that day, her heart in her mouth when he was hit in the face with another player’s elbow. Now, his cheeks were flushed red from the cold, the way they’d looked after he’d run around the footy oval. Years of memories flew on high speed through her mind.

“Hi Tom,” Emma managed to squeak out.

“Wow, Emma. It’s good to see you. You’re all grown up. You look … good.”

“Thanks. Um, so do you.”

She dug her nails into the palms of her hand and forced herself to breathe in and out slowly. This was not who Emma had pictured when Judy had mentioned Tom. She’d imagined a weather-beaten farmer in his sixties, not this handsome man in front of her. How had she forgotten how good-looking he was? No wonder women queued up for a spot on television programs like
Farmer Wants a Wife
. Men who looked like this gave farming a
very
good name.

Emma glanced at Tom’s hands but didn’t see a wedding ring. It might not mean anything, but she’d be surprised if someone hadn’t snatched him up. She always knew he’d be an awesome catch.

“What a blast from the past.” He let go of her hand and raked his fingers through his hair, only succeeding in making it further stand on end. “Wow. You look really good,” he repeated. His smile widened, showing all his teeth. Perfectly straight thanks to years of orthodontics. She remembered that about him too. The small dimple on his left cheek played peek-a-boo.

Judy’s voice interrupted the whirling vortex of Emma’s emotions. She was frowning at the two of them. “I take it you already know each other.”

“Of course. Mum, this is Lorraine O’Connor’s daughter. Do you remember? Lorraine had cancer at the same time you did. Emma was a few years behind me at school.”

“Two. I was two years behind you.”

Judy looked as though she was willing her mind to remember, then she smiled widely. “Now I remember. I don’t know why I didn’t see the resemblance when you first arrived. Emma, you look like your mum. If I remember correctly, you two met when Lorraine and I were having treatment.”

Emma smiled. He’d only ever had eyes for Kim, and had never noticed her, but she wasn’t going to mention that.

“Yes, we did. We met at one of those camps for kids with parents with cancer.”

Tom’s face clouded as though he was remembering those dark days when they’d wondered if their mothers would pull through. While Lorraine had beaten her cancer quickly, Emma remembered Judy hadn’t been so lucky, and had spent a lot of time in hospital in Sydney. When Judy was first diagnosed, her husband had left her and she’d raised Tom alone. His older sister Sophie lived in the UK and Judy relied heavily on Tom’s support and love. It was obvious Tom and his mum still had a good relationship.

Tom pulled out a chair and sat. Emma’s heart continued to pound. She felt like she was a teenager again.

Judy placed a reheated meal before him, his plate piled high with meat and potatoes. “Well fancy that,” she said. “What a small world it is. Who’d have thought you two knew each other. I had no idea when Lleyton Chirnside told us he’d bought Lexton Downs for his wife that you were a local girl.”

Tom’s eyes widened in surprise and he dropped his knife. It clattered against the plate. “You married Lleyton Chirnside?”

Emma chewed her lip wondering how to answer that question.

Tom scratched the back of his neck. “We haven’t heard from Lleyton in months.”

Emma’s mouth went dry. Didn’t they know? She licked her lips and took a sip of water. When she swallowed, it felt like there was a golf-ball-sized lump lodged in her throat. Her tongue felt as though someone had glued it to the roof of her mouth. She willed her stomach to settle.

“Are you all right sweetie, you’ve gone very pale,” Judy said.

“Um, perhaps you haven’t heard.”

Tom and Judy stared at her with faces full of questions.

“Lleyton was in a car accident in June,” she said quietly, looking down at her lap and fiddling with an imaginary loose thread. “He, um, he never regained consciousness. He passed away two days later.”

There was a long beat of silence before Judy pulled Emma into a sideways hug. “You poor thing. We had no idea.”

Emma gnawed at her lip again and tasted blood. Tears pricked her eyes and she hurriedly brushed them away. She didn’t want to give either of them the wrong idea she was a grieving widow, but nor did she want them to think she was heartless. She didn’t usually cry nowadays when she talked about Lleyton. It must be because of the long drive and lack of sleep. Exhaustion always played havoc with her emotions.

“I thought Andrew might have called you,” she said. Surely someone would have told them, otherwise who was paying their wages? Maybe Lleyton or Andrew had some sort of trust set up.

Tom stared at her in confusion. “Who’s Andrew?”

“Andrew Richardson. He was Lleyton’s … friend and he’s also our – my – the lawyer.”

Tom shook his head, his face full of sympathy. “No one told us.”

Silence as oppressive as a winter fog descended on the room.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Judy said finally.

“Thank you.”

Tom’s face suddenly darkened. “Does this mean you’ve come to take over Lexton Downs? Or to sell it?”

Something about his tone caught Emma by surprise. Why was he angry with her?

She shook her head. “No. Well, yes. I don’t know. Andrew gave me the keys and the address and said I needed to check it out.” Why was Tom making her so nervous?

“Did Andrew tell you what we do?” Tom asked, pointing to his mum.

“He told me Lleyton had employed a manager.”

“That would be me.”

“I figured that.”

“I run the farm side of things and Mum’s been overseeing the renovations on the homestead – making sure they’re done according to the National Trust heritage overlay on the property. The plan is to get it ready for accommodation. It’s close to being finished and we hope to have the first guests for the summer holidays, if not earlier. I’ve been working on getting the paddocks ready for the horses. We’ve set the property up to cater for retired racehorses and also for people to bring their own horses when they stay in the homestead. We’re hoping Lexton Downs will become a five-star luxury bed and breakfast.” The passionate words tumbled over each other as though Tom was trying to build a case.

He went on to explain about cows and sheep and paddocks and other things, but none of it made much sense to Emma. She might have grown up in a country town, but she’d lived in a normal suburban house and knew absolutely nothing about farming. The way Tom was talking, the property was enormous and once more she felt the overwhelming weight of Lleyton’s legacy.

“
Do
you think you’ll sell?” Judy asked, her own face now taut with worry.

Emma shrugged. Were they not listening? “As I said, I have no idea yet. Maybe. I don’t know.”

A deep scowl darkened Tom’s face. He stood abruptly and scraped his barely touched meal into a plastic container and put it in the fridge. He then dropped his plate and cup into the sink. After washing them, he left them on the bench to dry before striding across the small kitchen toward the back door. Lifting his hat from the hook he jammed it down onto his head, adjusting it until it was comfortable. It shaded his eyes and Emma could no longer see his face. What was he thinking? He still seemed angry. Was it something she’d said?

“I need to feed the dogs and lock them up for the night, then I think I’ll head off to bed.”

Emma glanced at her watch. It wasn’t even nine o’clock.

“Sounds like you and I have lots to talk about tomorrow Emma. I assume your husband’s death means all the plans will have to be put on hold.”

Stunned by the sudden coldness in his voice, Emma didn’t know what to say. She shivered slightly under his intense scrutiny. He had given the impression of being pleased to see her when he’d first walked in, but now his features were marred by irritation. This was a side of Tom she didn’t recognize and never knew existed.

Before Emma could say anything else, Judy jumped in. “Do you need a hand with anything darling?”

“No thanks.” His answer was curt. Leaning against the wall to steady himself, he pulled on his mud-caked elastic-sided leather boots. He finally lifted his head and tilted his hat a fraction, fixing dark blue eyes on Emma. “I’ll take you over to the house tomorrow morning and show you around. We can talk then.”

The fly-screen door slammed behind him leaving Emma and Judy in the quiet coldness of his departure. Emma exhaled and sank lower in the hard wooden chair. What was that all about? She stared at the back door and tried to sort through the bizarre influx of emotions swirling through her.

At first Tom had been his usual laid-back self, like the teenager she remembered, and when he’d smiled at her, butterflies and romantic notions had taken flight. Now his reactions left her speculating what she’d done wrong.

And worse: she realized he had no memory of the night they’d once shared.

Emma rubbed her eyes. Until then she hadn’t realized how exhausted she was. Twelve hours of driving in one day was too much for one person on their own. She now regretted her decision to come straight to Lexton Downs. She should have gone to her parents’ house first and come out here when she was more prepared.

Judy patted her on the arm. “You look wiped sweetie. Why don’t you stay here tonight? It’s another half an hour back into town and it’s getting late.”

Emma wasn’t so sure she wanted to stay after the way Tom had acted. With the ease of practice, she smoothed her smile across her face. “Thank you for your hospitality Judy. And thank you for dinner too. You’ve been very kind, but I don’t want to impose.”

Judy pulled Emma into an unexpected embrace. “You’re not imposing. I always keep the spare room set up for unexpected visitors. Everything will look much better once you’ve had a good sleep. When you wake up you can head over to the house with Tom and afterward you can drive into town and see your folks.”

Emma returned the hug. “You know what, as much as I don’t want to put you to any trouble, I can’t bear the thought of getting behind the wheel and driving again. Thank you, I’ll stay.”

Emma shut the door on the spare room and her eyes traveled around the small space. Judy was an impeccable homemaker. The room she’d offered Emma looked like a guest bedroom straight from a
House and Garden
magazine. Emma turned down the top cover and her hand touched the warm sheets.  What a thoughtful gesture. Judy must have had gone into the room earlier and switched the electric blanket on. Emma couldn’t wait to crawl between the covers. She sat on the bed and gave an experimental bounce. Ah, bliss. A comfortable mattress
and
a toasty warm bed. What more could a girl ask for?

She crossed the window and peered outside into the night. A floodlight illuminated a well-kept backyard, a large veggie garden and rows of fruit trees. She couldn’t wait to see it in the daylight. Outside a dog barked and a bird screeched but otherwise there was nothing but hushed stillness.

Emma felt like she’d been on a long-haul flight. She ran her hands through her oily hair, her fingers snagging in the knots before she gave up. She pulled it into a knot on top of her head. Collapsing on the bed, she pulled off her shoes and jeans, stripping down to her bra and knickers. She didn’t care that her suitcases with her pajamas were still in the car. She slid between the warm thousand-count Egyptian cotton sheets, sighing with pleasure. Placing her phone on silent, she put it on the small table beside the bed, next to the fresh posy of cut lavender artfully displayed in a crystal vase. Pulling the thick feather comforter up around her face, she was breathing deeply in seconds.

*

Emma didn’t remember falling asleep, but she stirred to find white light nudging at her eyelids, silently urging her to wake up. She rolled over in the comfortable bed and felt the luxurious weight of the covers pressing down on her. The bedding was heavy and comforting, reminding Emma of home. Her mum loved to sew and made beautiful handmade quilts, like the ones covering her bed now.

She yawned and picked up her phone before sitting up in surprise. It was a quarter past ten. She never allowed herself to sleep in, and yet here she was in someone else’s bed, rubbing angel dust from her eyes after the best night’s sleep she’d had in weeks, if not months. Her distended bladder reminded her she needed to get up.

She swung her feet out of bed, and forgetting where she was and that she was practically naked, she opened the bedroom door. The house was dead quiet. She almost tripped on her suitcases that sat in the doorway. She smiled at Judy’s thoughtfulness. Or maybe it had been Tom’s. Peering out, she spied a bathroom down the hall and made a dash for it. She closed the door quietly behind her. Thick olive green towels were stacked on a chair. She picked one up and inhaled the scent of fresh air and sunshine.

She stepped into the bath and turned the overhead shower on. Turning her face toward the water, she savored every minute of the luxurious flow. A long hot shower was the best way to put things into fresh perspective. For ten minutes she stood, letting the water sluice all her worries away and work its magic.

Ten minutes later she peered between the heavy curtains out the bedroom window and saw nothing except thick fog. It looked freezing outside. She dressed in comfortable jeans and a warm woolen jumper that might once have been red but was now a faded pink, and padded on socked feet into the kitchen.

Unlike the night before when everything in the cottage kitchen had been neat and tidy, this morning it looked like a disaster zone. Mixing bowls and cake tins were strewn across every surface. Emma drew in a deep breath. Who cared about the mess when Judy was baking something that smelled incredible?

“Good morning,” Judy said warmly the moment she spotted her. “Did you sleep well?”

Emma pulled up a chair at the kitchen table and sat. “It was the best sleep I’ve had in ages.”

Judy cleared a space amidst the clutter of papers on the table. “Sorry about the mess. I thought I’d get out the paperwork for the property so you can have a look through it before you head over there today with Tom. That way you can see what we’ve got planned for Lexton.”

“Oh. Sure. Thanks,” Emma said. She didn’t want to sound rude, but she also wasn’t sure she wanted to see Tom again so soon – especially if he was still in a bad mood.

A gray and white cat appeared from nowhere and wound its tail around Emma’s legs. She reached down to stroke its back.

“You’re not allergic to cats are you?”

“Not at all. I love them. I always had cats growing up.”

“This is Pepper.”

Judy continued to bustle around the kitchen, wiping down the drying remnants of cake batter from the benchtops and putting large containers of flour and sugar back into the pantry.

“Sorry about the mess,” she said again. “I thought I’d make a cake and once I started, I decided to make cookies too.”

“Don’t be silly. I don’t care about mess.” And she didn’t. “My mum’s favorite saying is ‘people are more important than a tidy house.’”

Judy beamed.

A mental image of Lleyton sitting in this kitchen popped into Emma’s head and she had to stifle a smile. Messes like this drove Lleyton nuts. So did cats. Pepper sprang up onto the table, scattering papers everywhere, and nudged his head into Emma’s chin. She rubbed the top of his head and was rewarded with the loudest rattle she’d ever heard.

“I’m so sorry. Shoo him off the table.”

“It’s not a problem, honestly,” Emma said, scooping the cat into her lap where he proceeded to march on the spot until he found a comfortable place and curled into a ball.

“You must be hungry.”

“Actually, I am,” Emma said in surprise. She was ravenous, even after eating so much the night before.

“Bacon and eggs suit you?”

“Don’t go to any trouble. Toast and Vegemite will be fine. And a cup of coffee too please.”

“You’ve gotta have a big breakfast,” Tom announced. “Toast and coffee won’t be enough. I’ve got a big day planned.”

Emma spun in her seat. Pepper landed with a thump on the floor and gave Emma a disgusted look. She hadn’t heard Tom come in until he spoke. The deep timbre of his voice caused a flush to creep up her neck again and she knew her cheeks were turning red. Was he still annoyed with her?

“Thomas Michael Henderson do not step one foot into my kitchen in those muddy boots.”

Tom obeyed his mum and didn’t move. He shoved his sunglasses onto his head, exposing his incredible blue eyes. Eyes that assessed her, missing nothing. His wavy brown hair fell in an unruly mess across his forehead and she desperately wanted to sweep it to one side. He was staring at her mouth, making her knees knock together. Why did looking at him turn her from an educated woman into a drooling imbecile? From the day she’d first laid eyes on him as a sixteen-year-old, he’d affected her brain and made it mush. It had to stop now, because clearly her feelings were not going to be reciprocated.

She remained fixed to the chair, unnerved, out of control, off kilter. Three things Tom Henderson was probably not feeling at that moment. His lips were drawn in a straight line across his face. She quickly averted her gaze, recognizing that look from the night before. Yes, he was still angry about something.

“Good morning,” she said as pleasantly as she could.

He made a grunting sound in the back of his throat that might have been “g’day” if she was lucky.

His flannel shirt had seen better days, the pocket half torn off. The top three buttons were open, revealing a smattering of hair at the base of his throat. He wore faded jeans yet managed to make the old denim look sexy. They were well worn and softly molded against his legs. A darker shadow of a beard covered his jaw and made him look more handsome than he had the day before. Unfortunately, his eyes were icy cold pools and clearly whatever had upset him the night before still weighed heavily on his mind.  If she knew him better, she would’ve asked what was bugging him.

“After you’ve eaten I’ll take you over to Lexton. Make sure you rug up. Wear layers. As I’m sure you remember, once the sun comes out later you’ll be able to strip off, but it’s freezing at the moment and I don’t want to hear you complaining. I’ll be back to pick you up in fifteen minutes.”

With that, Tom pulled the kitchen door closed behind him, leaving Emma and Judy in the quietness of his hasty departure. Emma exhaled, letting out a long-held breath. She stared at the closed door then at Judy who stood at the stove, face flushed, visibly embarrassed by her son’s bad mood and rude behavior.

Emma released another breath and stood. She was annoyed. She had spent the better part of three years doing whatever Lleyton told her to do and she did not appreciate another man – basically a stranger – bossing her around. When Tom returned to pick her up in fifteen minutes, she intended to be halfway back into town on her way to her parents’ house. When she was ready, she’d return to Lexton Downs and be shown around the property on
her
terms, not his.

“Judy, thanks for the offer of breakfast, but I’ll give it a miss. I think I’ll head into Birrangulla now. Perhaps when I come back, Tom will be in a better frame of mind.”

“Emma sweetie, I’m sorry. Tom’s not normally like this.”

Emma knew that. Unless he had changed dramatically in the past ten years, he’d never been bad-tempered. He’d been the one who always sailed on an even keel.

“What’s his problem?” she asked. “Is it me?”

“Oh no, it’s not you. He’s worried about his job. He’s poured so much of this last year into Lexton Downs and now he probably thinks you’re going to sell it.”

Emma put her hands on her hips. “Well he’s making a ridiculous assumption. He hasn’t given me a chance to talk to him about it. I have no idea about the future of the property. All I’ve been given is a set of keys. I know nothing about it. The first I heard about it becoming a bed and breakfast and horse stables was when Tom was talking last night. I said I
might
sell it, but I haven’t even seen it yet.”

Judy sighed heavily and sat down. “I’m sorry sweetie. All of this must come as such a shock to you, especially after your husband has just died. I’m sorry Tom was so rude. But if you give him time, he’ll come around. He’s had a lot to deal with over the last few years himself and he wants to see Lexton Downs succeed. We both do. I guess he figured your arrival has changed all the plans.”

“Well he figured wrong,” Emma snapped.

There was an awkward silence in the small kitchen. Pepper stopped licking his fur and gawked at Emma with large eyes. Emma heard the sound of a car pulling up and the excited barking of dogs.

“It sounds like that’s Tom back now,” Judy said.

Emma glanced at the clock. He hadn’t even given her ten minutes.

She sighed heavily in defeat. “I might as well get this over with now.”

*

Twenty minutes later Emma followed Tom out to the car, watching the determined way he moved. His legs were solid with strength and despite her irritation toward him, she had to smile with appreciation at the way the muscles in his backside tightened and relaxed with each step. He had no idea how sexy he was. Broad shoulders tapered into a slim waist. He had loosely tucked his bright green shirt into denim jeans, which hung low on his hips, a thick brown leather belt threaded through the loops, matching the scuffed leather boots on his feet. A black puffer vest was unzipped over his shirt.

He made no comment about how long it had taken her to finish breakfast, and no comment about how long it had taken her to find her own puffer jacket and slip her feet into borrowed gumboots that were a size too big for her feet. The only indication the delay had any effect on him was an imperceptible tightening of his jaw when she apologized. She couldn’t see his eyes hidden under his hat’s broad brim. No apology was forthcoming from him for his crappy attitude.

Seeing him again, freshly shaven and his hair still damp from the shower, made every one of Emma’s nerve endings explode like Australia Day fireworks. Walking behind him took a concentrated effort. Like a newborn foal, her knees kept threatening to buckle beneath her. Being around Tom was causing her body to have a fluidity about it over which she had no control. A feeling she did not enjoy.

Although his chameleon moods weren’t attractive, if she was being honest with herself, after all these years she was still physically attracted to him. When it came to the gene pool, he had without doubt received a double portion of good looks from his Maker.

Shoving those thoughts aside, she climbed up into the mud-covered four-wheel drive and he closed the door behind her. Moments later the driver’s side door screeched open and he folded his tall frame behind the steering wheel. He moved with surprising grace for such a tall man. She fastened her seat belt, noting he didn’t buckle his. She clasped her hands neatly in her lap and kept her eyes forward, pretending to notice everything and anything except him.

“Righto, let’s go,” he said as he turned the key and the engine started with a roar. He took off slowly down the gravel driveway, one arm resting casually out the open window, the other gripping the wheel loosely.