‘Mr Jackson would like to see over the farm,’ she told Gregor. ‘Can you show him around?’
‘Oh, my dear…’ The elderly farmer’s face fell.
‘Is there a problem?’
‘I can’t do it,’ Gregor said heavily. ‘My legs won’t take me.’
‘I didn’t mean walk,’ Molly told him. ‘I assume there’s a vehicle?’
‘The Jeep’s in for a service. If we’d known you were coming… But Miss Copeland only rang last night to tell us you were on your way.’
‘There’s the farm bike,’ Doreen said. ‘But it only holds one. Then there’s the horses, but Gregor’s hip can’t take it.’
It nearly killed them, Molly saw, to admit that they were getting old and needed help. Gregor’s face was anguished.
‘I can go by myself,’ Jackson said gently, reacting to the old man’s distress. ‘Miss Farr…’ He cast Molly a sideways look and decided on informality. ‘
‘But you could fall off.’ Doreen was practically wringing her hands. ‘There’s rabbit holes and heaven knows what else. You’ll want to see everything, and the only way to see it properly is by horse, but…’
‘You can’t go alone,’ her husband added. He turned to Molly and she could see what an effort it cost him to ask. ‘Unless you ride, miss?’
‘I ride,’ she said briefly, and received another look of astonishment from Jackson. One surprise after another… City realtors, it seemed, were not expected to ride.
She hesitated. Sam was right beside her, pressing close. His insecurity was almost tangible. ‘But Sam can’t.’
‘We’ll look after Sam.’ Doreen beamed at this easy solution to the problem. ‘It would be our pleasure.’ Then she addressed Sam, adult to adult. ‘I’m making a pavlova for supper,’ she told him. ‘Have you ever made one?’
Sam hesitated. ‘No, I…’
‘Would you like to learn? I need help to pick the strawberries for the top.’
‘And we’re hand-rearing a calf,’ Gregor added, seeing where Doreen was headed and putting in his two bobs’ worth. ‘She needs bottle-feeding. Seems to me you’re just the sort of lad who’d be able to do that.’
‘And did you say you have a frog in that box?’ Doreen asked. ‘After we’ve done our jobs, Gregor and I will walk you to where there are a thousand frogs. And tadpoles to match.’
It was too much. Sam gave a shy nod and the tension in the room eased like magic.
Molly let her breath out in a rush. Darn, everywhere she looked there were conflicting demands, but these two lovely old people had given her time off. Wonderful…
‘Can you really ride?’ Jackson demanded. ‘Or do you mean you can sit on a riding school hack?’
The toad! ‘Try me,’ she retorted, and turned to Gregor, excluding Jackson nicely. He deserved to be excluded. ‘According to my livestock lists you have some fine horses.’
‘They’ll be frisky,’ Gregor warned. ‘They haven’t been ridden since muster.’
‘The friskier the better,’ she told him. ‘I can’t wait.’
And the thing was settled.
‘It’ll take you the best part of the day to get around,’ Doreen added. ‘I’ll put together a picnic for your saddlebags. You have a lovely day for it.’ She beamed. ‘There. That’s settled. You have a lovely ride and see the property and Sam will have fun with us. Isn’t that lovely?’
What was her story?
Jackson watched as Molly helped catch and saddle the horses, and by the time they were mounted he knew she hadn’t spoken lightly when she’d said she could ride. She looked as if she’d been born in the saddle. Her roan mare was skittish as be damned, but she held her as steadily as Jackson held his bay. Then, as Gregor let them go and the mare skittered sideways, she turned a laughing face towards him.
‘They won’t settle until they’ve had a gallop, and the home paddocks are safest. Race you to the far gate.’ Before he knew what she was about she was off, the mare galloping like the wind and Molly riding her with an attitude that spoke of sheer joy at being alive.
Or more. Of release.
It was quite a sight. It took Jackson about ten valuable seconds before he recovered himself enough to turn his attention to his own horse-by which time she had an unassailable lead, and she’d paused and was waiting when he reached her at the far end of the paddock.
‘What kept you?’ she demanded.
‘I thought businesswomen always let their clients win,’ he complained, and received another of her lovely, throaty chuckles.
‘Whoops. But I’m on a sure thing here. If the rest of this property is as good as this then it’ll sell itself.’
She had a point. The more he saw the more he liked. But he wasn’t just assessing the property!
‘You’re not a bad horseman,’ she was saying, and it drew a grin.
‘Gee, thanks,’ he told her dryly. ‘If I didn’t just know that flattery was good for business…’
‘Didn’t I tell you this wasn’t business? The property will sell itself, with no need for idle compliments to get a buyer in the mood.’
‘So you did.’ His mood was lightening by the minute. She was making him feel free of the restrictions he usually surrounded himself with.
Those restrictions were his by choice, he told himself. His life, his work. Cara. They were all his choice.
But it didn’t hurt to take a break.
‘Where did you learn to ride?’ he asked as they turned their now amenable mounts towards the hills.
‘On the back of a dairy cow.’
That had his eyebrows hiking upwards. ‘You’re kidding?’
‘Nope. My parents ran a small country newsagency. I was jealous of all the kids who had farms, so when they saddled up their horses I made do with Strawberry. Strawberry was our house cow.’
His lips twitched. ‘Don’t tell me. You rode her to school?’
‘Well, no. I couldn’t ride her when Dad was looking. It put her off her milk.’
‘I’d imagine it would.’ He was feeling more and more dazed. A sudden vision of Molly on a dairy cow crossed his mind and he blinked it away. It had the power to unsettle him completely.
But she was unaware. ‘This next bit’s the murky bit,’ she told him, motioning to a tract of swamp land. ‘I’d guess this is where the leeches are. You want to stop and look closer? If so I’ll go over to the next hill and wait.’
‘What-scared of a few leeches?’
‘Yes,’ she said firmly. ‘Despite my salt canister. But off you go. Tread where no man has trod before. After all, isn’t that your reputation?’
‘Is it?’ he demanded, startled, and to his surprise she took him seriously, her gaze raking him from head to toe. Assessing. It was a strange kind of glance and it unnerved him.
‘They say you’re ruthless. In business you’ll stop at nothing.’ Her tone was uncommitted.
‘You’re a businesswoman yourself.’ Her unspoken criticism rankled.
‘So I am.’
‘But you have limits?’ His tone was probing.
‘As I imagine you have.’
‘Like leeches.’
‘As you say.’ She grinned, and the sudden unexplained tension eased a bit. ‘Does that mean you’re not hiking through the swamp like a true hero?’
‘I can see everything I need to see from up here,’ he said with what he hoped was dignity, and her chuckle unnerved him all over again.
The swamp was the worst of the whole place. The rest was sheer magic. They skirted the swamp and made their way to the sea. Here the paddocks butted the dunes and the lush pasture was cropped by sleek, well-fed cattle. They looked the most contented cattle Jackson had ever seen, and he thought, Well, why not? I’d be pretty
