Taming the Outback (8 page)

“No, I guess not.” Josh threw his bag on the floor and grabbed a glass from the cupboard. Leaning over the sink, he gulped down a big drink of water while looking out the open window at the backyard.

“He knows some of the other kids there at least, which is more than I do.” Josh sounded peeved.

“When I turned up, you seemed to have met quite a few, especially of the female variety.” Libby smiled and brushed a lock of his hair from his face.

His growl couldn’t quite cover up the smile tugging at the corners of his own mouth.

“Just treat him as you would want to be treated, Josh. That’s all I ask.”

_***

The week progressed slowly. As soon as the kids caught the bus in the mornings, Libby and Tom got to work on the farm. They fixed fences, and Libby learned to gas up and prime the water pump in the far paddocks. She chased cattle that pushed through the fences too close to Nathan’s breeding cows and even though she was squeamish to begin with, pulled an early calf from an exhausted mother.

She managed to get into her garden after dinner on most nights and was slowly learning the difference between the weeds and the plants. Flowerpots now lined the veranda and stairs, throwing color onto the otherwise dull house. It would look beautiful freshly painted, but that wasn’t in the budget or timeframe for now, no matter how much Libby could see it in her mind.

The furniture had arrived and most of it had been relegated to the shed for sorting later. The kids had unpacked clothes and books, and that was about it. Libby and Tom had dragged the barbecue and her outdoor setting to the front deck. Most of her kitchen stuff was newer than that of her grandmother, and she managed to add enough to make it feel like her kitchen without cluttering it too much and disposing of the nostalgia, which had swamped her when she first arrived and fallen in love with the house.

One night, she broached the subject of the empty rooms in the huge house.

“Tom, I want you and Winton to move into the house.” Libby held her hand up as he started to protest. “Come on. This place is huge, and I really don’t like you living in the damned shed. There’s no need.”

“It’s where we’re comfortable.”

“But why,” she persisted. “You don’t have an inside toilet or shower, your room is so poky, it’s not funny. Besides, the draft running through the place makes you freeze in winter, and you only have a couple of nails on the back of the door to hang your clothes. This house is enormous, full of furniture that will never get used, and I would rather you were here with us.”

“Just drop it, Libby. We like the living arrangements the way they are. It’s time I took this old body to bed, catch you in the morning. Up early to start bringing in the sheep, okay?”

Libby watched him walk away, determined to get her own way sooner or later.

_***

“Winton, Josh, ride ahead and start bringing the sheep in from the far paddock. We need to bring them all in and get the young rams out and sort the out of season lambs. Libby, you take the truck into the dam paddock and wait for us to herd them to you. If you could man the gate and keep an eye out for any stray lambs, we should be able to get this all done today if we all get stuck in and work together. If we do, we can all have tomorrow off. Right, let’s go,” Tom said.

Libby eyed the fat, woolly sheep on the other side of the fence as she drove to the paddock Tom wanted to bring their sheep into. Everything about Nathan’s farm screamed
perfect.
Hers cried out
poverty,
and she brushed aside the quick feeling of despair that crept in. Sure, he had it all, and his place was clean and tidy, and the grass was greener than hers. His stock looked like it was well loved while hers was exactly what he called them: mongrels. But he had more money than her, more staff, and he had been working at for a lot longer than she had.

Libby parked the truck under a tree and grabbed her hat before walking over to the gate to wait for the sheep to be herded her way. Straightening her back, she cast her gaze over the rough, patchy grass on her side of the newly fixed fence line. She’d done it and was proud of herself for learning a new skill, doubly proud
she
had actually fixed it. They would make a go of this place and a nice profit at the end of the two-year time frame in order to keep it for her family. Nathan could give up his dream of sending her packing. He wasn’t getting her farm without a fight.

Why did Uncle Thaddius leave the farm to me after promising it to Nathan?
No wonder he was pissed at her. Her skin heated with the memory of his touch.
Damn it.
Lack of sex made it hard for her not to notice him, even if he were being a bastard. The guy had a serious dose of sex appeal, and she was having trouble ignoring it.

She heard the boys yelling and whistling as they herded a large flock of sheep into the paddock. As they were closing the gate behind them, Libby turned back to see a vehicle hurtling down the road heading straight toward them. She shaded her eyes from the bright morning sun as she unhitched the latch to swing it open for their visitor, realizing too late that it was Nathan who pulled up beside her and eased casually from his truck.

“What do you want, Nathan?” Libby asked, angry he was standing in front of her moments after she’d been dreaming of his body wrapped around hers.

“Bit cranky this morning, sweetheart.” He came to stand far too close to her, his hands on his hips and his knee touching hers.

Libby turned and stepped quickly away from him, stumbling over a loose rock protruding from the dusty soil. She fell sideways, a cry of fright escaping her before she could stop herself. He caught her around the waist and held on tight before pulling her up and turning her to face him. With no encouragement, her body reacted to the man holding her. Her stomach clenched, and her nipples puckered under her rough cotton shirt. Libby froze against his broad chest, scared he would notice the effect he was having on her if she pulled away from him too soon.

“It must be my lucky day. Throwing yourself at me so early in the morning.” He laughed at her, holding her tightly.

“Let me go.”

“Don’t they teach you manners in the city, Libby?” Nathan’s sensual mouth breathed warm air on her neck as she struggled to keep her hands to herself.

“Please. Let. Me. Go.”

Libby’s face flamed with embarrassment as he released her. Turning away from him, she smoothed her shirt down, straightening her underwear as unobtrusively as she could to make herself more comfortable before turning back toward him with her face set firm.

“What do you want?”

“Where’s Tom?” He looked around.

“Why?”

“Because I want to ask him about the shearers.” Nathan sounded annoyed.

“Ask me.” Libby folded her arms and tapped her foot.

He gave her a scathing look, which spoke volumes. “I rang them, and they said Tom had already booked them in. I want to have them come to my place first if that’s okay with him because it suits me better this week before the rains come, and I have more stock than you do.”

“No.”

“What do you mean
no?
”

“N. O. No. What don’t you understand about that?” Libby shot back, warming to the argument. “We have them booked, so you can wait. I don’t care if it suits you better. Can’t you see we’re bringing in our sheep now? Why should we stop to suit you?”

Nathan looked over her shoulder, and his face changed. Stepping past her, he called out a cheery hello to Tom who was riding their way.

“Tom, just who I wanted to see,” he called out, his voice now warm with affection.

Libby watched as Tom handed Nathan a couple of tiny lambs before dismounting from his horse. Before she could move her feet to take them from him, Holly was squealing with delight and running toward him. She watched as he knelt down in the dust to let her daughter fuss over the small bundles of fluff. Carefully, Nathan passed one to her and told her how to handle it.

“Mum, look at what I’ve got,” she cried, looking to Libby.

Plastering a smile to her face, Libby walked over and stood behind Holly, looking over her shoulder at the lamb that was nudging her in its attempt to find food. Holly tried to stroke its head, but it found her fingers and latched on, sucking them into its mouth.

The look on her daughter’s face was priceless. The joy one orphaned lamb brought her little girl was more than Libby had managed to do in the last five years of struggling on her own. Her emotions threatened to derail her until she remembered the man in front of her.

Turning to Tom and ignoring the dark look Nathan was giving her, she said, “Nathan is here to try and talk us into letting him have the shearers at his farm first because of the coming rain. I said no. We’ve already started to bring in our sheep, so he can wait.”

“Typical city reaction, sweetheart.” Nathan sneered at her as he handed the other lamb to Holly and turned away from her. “I stand by my original idea about you. You’re not cut out for this life. Any other
country
person would have helped out their neighbor, but not you. You have
started
to bring in your motley herd of stragglers while mine are all ready to go. Don’t hold up the shearers, or you’ll get a bad name, and next year, they won’t even bother putting you on their list.”

She watched him storm back to his car and tear down the road in a cloud of dust.

“Is he right, Tom, should we have let him get them to his place first?”

“I don’t think so, not unless we know for sure we won’t get this lot in before they get here. If we hurry, we will, and now we have something to prove, don’t you think?”

He reached for her arm and stopped her walking away.

“Look, I’m not making excuses for Nathan, honestly. But I’ve known him all his life, and he really is a nice guy under all that angst and attitude. He just has a bad time dealing with city folk after what happened, and I’m afraid you are copping it all.” Tom scratched his head. “But don’t let it worry you, it’s something he has to deal with, and I’m sure he will sooner or later.” Tom nodded his head at the trail of dust Nathan was leaving as he drove away.

“Let’s go then,” she declared, determined to get every last straggler in for shearing and prove the bastard wrong.

_***

Libby soaked in her bath trying to ease the aches and pains wracking her tired body, refusing to give into her heated fantasies about Nathan as her fingers fluttered over her breasts in an attempt to wash herself. Even the scathing remarks about her incompetence and lack of country spirit couldn’t dampen her body’s reaction when his face came to mind.

Annoyed with herself, Libby pulled the plug and stood briskly, drying herself before dressing in old, comfortable clothes.

As Tom and Winton came through the gate, Libby took a bottle of red wine from the pantry with a couple of glasses. She rummaged through the drawer for a corkscrew to open the wine. When she had popped the cork, she put her hand on the older man’s arm and headed to the front veranda.

“Sit and relax.” She put the glasses on the little table she’d placed between the two rocking chairs. Libby tipped the bottle and filled their glasses, swirling the wine as the setting sun reflected off the ruby liquid. She passed the glass to Tom and sat in her rocking chair, letting her head fall back.

“This is the life.” She took a much needed sip of her wine to calm her frazzled nerves and tried to block out the unwanted picture of a tall, handsome farmer who appeared each time she closed her eyes.

“I’m not much of a fancy cook, so let’s just have a quick barbecue.”

“No complaints from me.”

The singing of the cicadas in the gum trees was the only background to the quiet stillness of the house as they all relaxed from their first sheep mustering.

“Ever been to a barn dance?” he asked.

“No.” She turned to look at him. “Tell me about them.”

“Just a good excuse for country folk to get together. One coming up in a couple of weeks if you want to go, might be a good chance to meet some of the locals.”

“I could deal with that. What do you wear and can the kids come, do you think?”

“’Course they can. You wear a dress, I guess. What do women usually wear to a dance?”

“A dress, I suppose, but I’ve never been to a country dance.” Libby took another sip of her wine. “I could always go into town and see what they suggest at the dress shop.”

Tom sat back in his seat, a satisfied smile on his face. Libby stood to start the barbecue, pressing a hand gently to his shoulder as he offered to get up and help her. She insisted he sit, that she’d cook tonight.

By the time the hotplate was ready, Holly had come back to the house and was talking about the lambs to Tom. He’d promised he would wake her in the morning to feed them after she appointed herself their main caregiver, and he was happy to oblige her. Libby had watched her little girl blossom under the watchful eye of the older man, and apart from the incident when Nathan had threatened to shoot the wandering cattle, Holly was taking to country life like a duck to water.