His Outback Nanny Page 2

  “I suppose it’ll be a ten-minute wonder, but I so wish it hadn’t been before my interview on Monday.”

  “Oh, cool! You got an interview?” Lucy walked over and hugged Jemima as the guys headed out to the verandah. “You’ll be fine, Jemmy. A whole new career for you. I’m so happy you’ve moved back home for good. All we need now is for Seb to return—and stay!”

  “Whoever would have thought?” Jemima smiled and nodded to the driveway. “Speaking of love, here’s Angie.” They both watched as Liam hurried out to greet her. He swooped her in a hug, and Lucy smiled. “Ain’t love grand!”

  “If that’s what you want out of life.” Jemima kept her voice light; just because her love life was nonexistent didn’t mean she couldn’t be happy for her brother.

  Lucy pulled a bottle of champagne from the cooler that Garth had carried in as Liam held the screen door open for Angie. “Hi, Angie. Perfect timing. Let’s toast a new career. Miss Smythe, soon to be the best school teacher in Spring Downs. Good luck, Jemmy!”

  Jemima and Lucy giggled at the surprised look on Angie’s face.

  Chapter Two

  Ned McCormack tripped over the two school bags sitting plum bang in the middle of the hallway as he raced towards the kitchen. The smell of burning toast filled the old farmhouse, and smoke billowed from the toaster to the ceiling. Four-year-old Ryan was sitting at the table banging his car on the tabletop. Next to him, an iPad was churning out nursery rhymes at full volume.

  “Kelsey? Gwennie? Who’s watching the toast?” Ned yelled as he stopped at the kitchen door. As he spoke, the smoke alarm in the kitchen came on, and the high-pitched squealing covered his son’s muffled reply.

  “What?” Ned grabbed a tea towel and flicked it at the alarm until it finally stopped.

  Ryan stopped banging his car on the table just long enough to answer his father. “Kelsey put the toast in, and then she ran outside. ’Cause Gwennie’s in the shed, and she screamed for us to come see.”

  “God, what now? Come see what?” Although Ned was well used to his drama queen daughter and her screams.

  “Rosie’s got her kittens.” Bang, bang, bang.

  Ned took a deep breath and crossed to the back door. He stood and concentrated on keeping his voice pleasant as he called across the yard. “Kelsey, Gwennie. Come and have breakfast, please. You’ve got ten minutes before I drive you to school.”

  There was no way he would let them catch the school bus on their first day at a new school. Even though Kelsey had stood there last night, hands on hips—just like Cathy used to stand—and insisted that she could look after Gwennie. Even though it meant he had to drive into town twice today, the afternoon trip to town was the important one. The appointment with the bank manager was crucial. And that’s what had been doing his head in.

  He had to hire some help so he could balance his time on the farm with the time he spent with the kids; otherwise, there was no point in them living out here. The problem was there wasn’t enough money left to hire a farm worker. Ned had no doubt that he could manage repayments on a loan, and the upside would be a better family life, but he had to get it first.

  At least he could get the grocery shopping out of the way after he drove them to school.

  As the girls came into the kitchen, Ned pulled the pieces of blackened toast from the toaster and put them in the overflowing kitchen bin. “Where’s the bread?”

  “That was the last two slices.” Kelsey opened the fridge. “And there’s no milk to have with cereal.”

  “There’s long-life milk in the cupboard, Kelsey.” Ned smiled, and his voice was patient. “For when we run out, remember.”

  Kelsey rolled her eyes. “What about bread?”

  “There’s bread in the freezer.” Ned was pretty chuffed he had this grocery shopping thing under control.

  Ryan’s big brown eyes—pansy eyes the same as his mother’s—widened and then filled with tears. “But I want eggs.”

  “Girls, go and get dressed. Your new school uniforms are hanging up in the laundry. I’ll cook some scrambled eggs for all of us, and then we’ll get you to school. I’m sure it won’t matter if we’re a bit late.”

  The two smiles that lit up the kitchen added to his certainty that he’d made the right decision to move out here.

  “You’re bringing us in to our new school?” Gwennie’s voice wobbled.

  “I will, and you’ll love it. It’s where I went to school.”

  “I wonder if I’ll have the same kinder teacher as you?”

  Ned smiled as he ruffled Gwennie’s hair. “I don’t think so, chicken. I’m sure Mrs. McGillicuddy was a hundred when she taught me.”

  “Me too?” Ryan cried out. “I want school, too!”

  “Preschool for you when we get settled, buddy. But how about a milkshake after we do the shopping?”

  “No fair.” Kelsey stamped her foot. “We have to go to a new school, and he gets a milkshake!”

  Kelsey could be difficult when she thought things weren’t going her way.

  “I’m sure you had many milkshakes before you started school.”

  “I did. With Mum.” Her voice was quiet as she stared past him.

  “Yes.” Ned turned away and looked out at the paddocks when the girls disappeared into the laundry to get their uniforms. “You did,” he said quietly.

  With Cath.

  Ryan resumed the car banging. Ned gritted his teeth inside the smile he forced to his face.

  By the time he drove into Spring Downs, dropped the girls off, did the grocery shopping, went to Cartwright’s produce store, and then drove back out to the farm, the best part of the working day would be gone. At least he could pick up the salt blocks and get them out into the paddocks before he had to turn around and go back into town, pick up the girls, and then get to the bank at three o’clock.

  Kelsey skipped down the hall, and as he opened the fridge to get the eggs out—luckily the hens had performed well yesterday—a little hand tugged on his T-shirt. He looked down to see Gwennie’s wide eyes staring up at him. She was a perceptive little soul, and she knew what he was thinking.

  “It’s okay, Daddy. I’ll put the groceries away this afternoon while you feed the cattle. We can mind Ryan, and then Kelsey and I will get tea ready. We can have salad so we won’t burn anything.”

  Always the carer, his little Gwennie.

  The last four years had been a nightmare, and he’d tried to do the best he could for his three kids. Moving to the country, and back to the family farm, had been an attempt to get them away from the memories and make a new start as a family. A new start, although in a place that was familiar to him. Even though it needed a huge amount of work—and money—to make it a going concern, the farm was the place where he’d grown up—before marriage and kids and before the sad times when his life had been turned upside down in one single day.

  “I’ll do you a deal.” He crouched down in front of his youngest daughter. “You can help Kelsey make the salad, and I’ll cook some sausages on the barbie. What do you think about that?”

  Gwennie sounded happier as she put her arms around his neck. “That sounds just perfect. I do love you, Daddy.”

  “I love you, too, bub.”

  A wet kiss landed on his cheek, and Gwennie let go of him and scurried down the hallway.

  Ryan chatted all the way into town, but the two girls were quiet. It was the second time they’d changed schools in the last year—when the house had been sold, they’d all moved in with Cath’s parents for three months, until Ned had finished the contracted work at the construction firm in Sydney. But if he could make the farm profitable, they’d be at Spring Downs Public School for a long time.

  The problem was, now, Kelsey was in Year Six, and she had her heart set on going to boarding school next year. She was horse mad, and she’d found a school in Armidale—the result of a Google search—that had a strong equestrian program. When she’d shown him the website, Ned had hidden the groan.
He didn’t want Kelsey to go away; he wanted his kids close so he could keep them safe.

  “We’ll see, love,” he’d said. “Who knows? You might find the local high school has a good program, too. Besides, it’s still a year away.”

  Ned focused on the road ahead as the list of his chores filled his thoughts. Once he dropped the girls at the school, he’d make a quick trip to the produce store and then do the grocery shopping. Ryan loved the trip up and down the grocery aisles, although the small co-op grocery store in Spring Downs was nothing like the bright, noisy, and busy shopping plazas they were used to on the north shore of Sydney. He’d checked the working account before he’d left home: there was just enough there to get the salt blocks he needed and do a medium-sized grocery shop.

  Doubt settled in Ned’s chest as he wondered for the umpteenth time whether he’d made the right decision for the kids and their future. Since Cath had died, he and the kids had struggled along as best they could as he’d continued his job in the city in Sydney. The night that he’d come home after an hour’s drive in heavy traffic to Dee Why on the northern beaches—to discover that the babysitter had left early, and eleven-year-old Kelsey was in charge—was the day he’d known they couldn’t go on like that. He’d put the house on the market, and it had sold the first day. He’d given notice at his job as a construction manager at the big city firm where he was overseeing the redevelopment of an inner city shopping mall and had made plans to move back home to the Pilliga Scrub.

  The family farm was in need of attention. It had been overseen by a succession of managers since Mum and Dad had retired to the coast, and Dad hadn’t replaced the last guy when he’d left. Dad had sold off the cattle and let the wheat fields lie fallow. He’d often talked about selling the property but hadn’t been able to bring himself to put it on the market.

  After moving in with Cath’s parents while he’d worked out his contract and squirreled away every cent he could, they’d spent Christmas at the beach with his parents. The kids had been so excited as they’d packed up at the end of the short holiday, ready to head to the farm on Boxing Day. It had buoyed up Ned’s spirits to see their excitement. He’d been a bit down since he’d finally given away Cath’s clothes to the op shop before they’d moved in with her parents.

  A new start. A new life.

  Chapter Three

  Ned let out a sigh of relief as he glanced at his watch as the small township came into view. Past the vet surgery, the Cartwright’s produce store, through Main Street, past the IGA grocery store, the historical museum on the corner, across the bridge over the river with no water, and then into the car park at the side of the school. They made it before nine o’clock. The school buses were still dropping children off at the front of the school.

  Children and parents milled around the front of the school, and he smiled. It was very different to the SUVs and lycra-clad-on-the-way-to-the-gym mothers of the Sydney North Shore. Here, there was a queue of dusty farm utes, with hay bales in the back, and lots of checked shirts and jeans. Satisfaction filled him. He’d come home to his place, and although it was the last thing he’d expected, it felt right.

  Before Ned could open his door, the two girls were out of the car in their nicely pressed uniforms and their new school bags on their backs. He’d learned a lot of new skills over the past four years. He climbed out of the car, opened the back door, and cupped his hand on Ryan’s cheek. “Come on, buddy. Wake up. We’re here.”

  Kelsey and Gwennie were waiting on the footpath, holding hands.

  “You girls got your lunch boxes?”

  They both nodded, and Ned’s eyes narrowed at Kelsey’s innocent expression.

  “Take the iPad out of your bag and put it in the car, Kelsey.”

  “X-ray vision, Daddy?” she asked but laughed and did as she was told.

  “Good try. Superhero Dad, remember.”

  Kelsey and Gwennie walked ahead of him still holding hands, and he held onto Ryan as they made their way to the front office of the school. The office was a hive of activity as students ran in and out. Half a dozen parents stood at the counter waiting to be attended to, and telephones rang incessantly.

  “Come on, kids. We’ll sit down and wait our turn.” He led them over to the three spare seats by the door, and they sat down, Ryan sitting on Ned’s knee as they waited for the girls to be allocated to their classes. He’d completed the enrolment procedure before they’d left Sydney. Ned had wanted to be sure that Spring Downs was suitable for his girls, but it seemed not a lot had changed since he’d gone there. It was still a good, solid, country school where the students were taught well.

  The crowd cleared slowly, and as it was almost their turn, Gwennie grabbed his arm. “Daddy, I think I’m going to throw up.”

  He stood and put Ryan on the chair. “Kelsey, look after your brother.” He grabbed Gwennie’s hand and hurried across to the office window and interrupted the woman who was speaking on the phone. “Where’s the ladies restroom, please?”

  She pointed to a half-open door next to the office that was marked Principal in gold letters. They hurried across the foyer, Gwennie’s hand over her mouth, and Ned pushed the door open. There was a corridor ahead with a photocopying room, a couple of small offices, a storeroom, and a restroom at the far end. The toilet door was open, and Gwennie pushed past him, ran up the hall, and shut the door.

  All was quiet. Ned leaned against the door and sighed.

  Gwennie put on such a tough front, but neither of the girls had got over Cath’s death.

  Of course they hadn’t.

  This morning was the first time Ned had mentioned her name for weeks. The grief counsellor had said to talk about Cath a lot to help the girls cope, but as the four years had passed, it had been too hard. Moving to the farm was a new start, and Ned was determined to make it work. If mentioning Cath naturally was going to help, he would do it. There were many changes to be made, and the meeting at the bank this afternoon was crucial to his success.

  As Ned waited, a door opened along the corridor, and he glanced up. A woman in a red tailored suit stepped out and walked towards him. She was tall—almost as tall as he was, and he was a little more than six foot. Her fair hair was scraped back into a severe bun, and her face was pale, but her deep blue eyes held his as he stepped back to let her pass.

  “Daddy, quick.” Gwennie’s cry was followed by the sound of her throwing up.

  The tall woman stopped and frowned. “Do you need some help here?” she asked kindly.

  Ned had been about to open the door and then paused when he remembered it was the restroom for the female staff. He looked at the woman, and his mouth dropped open.

  Jemima? Jemima Smythe? Liam’s little sister?

  “Jemima?” he asked hesitantly. “Are you the school principal?”

  Piercing blue eyes stared back at him without recognition. “Yes, I’m Jemima, but I’m not the principal.”

  “Can you go in and help Gwennie for me? Or at least check the coast is clear, and I can go in and look after her.”

  “I’d be happy to.” She shot him a curious look as she pushed open the door. “Mr…?”

  “McCormack. Ned McCormack. I was Liam’s friend at school.”

  Her eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything before she went into the restroom and the door closed behind her. He put his ear to the door, trying to hear if Gwennie was okay, but all he could hear was Jemima’s soft voice.

  He hadn’t caught up with Liam yet, but it looked like his baby sister was a teacher at the school they’d all attended when they were kids.

  But Jemima wasn’t a child anymore. She’d always been a tall girl when she’d traipsed around behind Liam and him when they’d been in high school. But now, she’d certainly grown into those long legs. She was drop dead freakin’ beautiful.

  The door opened, and Gwennie came out, wiping her hands on the side of her shorts. Her face was clean, and he looked over her head at Jemima.

&nbs
p; “She’s fine now. Just nerves, I think. We’ve washed her face, and she said she’s okay.”

  “Yep, I’m okay now, Daddy.”

  “Thank you, Jemima, or should I say Miss Smythe, or is it Mrs. these days?” Ned didn’t want it to sound like he was fishing to see if she was single. “I mean, what do the children call you?”

  “Jemima is fine,” she said as she looked nervously over her shoulder. “I’m in a bit of a hurry. Um, nice to see you, Ned.”

  Ned watched as she hurried down the hall and disappeared through the door into the foyer. She moved elegantly, and her skirt and jacket moulded gorgeous curves.

  He swallowed as Gwennie tugged at his hand. “Come on, Daddy. Let’s get this over with.”

  By the time the girls were placed in their classes and had been given a buddy to take them to class, Gwennie looked a bit happier, and Ned put Ryan back into the car and headed for the grocery store.

  “Come on, buddy. Let’s go get a milkshake.”

  This would work. Ned loved his kids and wanted them to be happy. That was more important than anything, and this was the place to make sure it happened.

  Chapter Four

  After her interview at the school, Jemima couldn’t settle. She had her mobile phone in her pocket. Mrs. Sykes, the principal—what were the chances of a connection with the librarian, she wondered—had said that they would notify the successful applicant this afternoon, with a view to starting by the end of the week. But more than that, she couldn’t get Ned McCormack out of her mind.

  Fancy running into Ned. Obviously married, with a daughter, and living in Spring Downs. He’d been a looker when he was in high school, but he’d grown into a fine-looking man. Tall and broad shouldered, and still with those gorgeous eyes and cheekbones. She wondered which local girl he’d married.

  Jemima had brought a change of clothes to town and called in to Angie’s house to get changed. She and Liam had come back into town last night, and Angie hadn’t gone to work yet. She held up a coffee mug as Jemima came into the kitchen in her jeans and checked shirt.