they paused, mid whoop.
‘Matt’s sleeping with us,’ William said uncertainly and Henry stuck his thumb in his mouth in affirmation. The little boy looked up at Charlotte as if she was some slug-like creature who even his small boy’s interest in slug-like creatures would still find repelling.
For once, Erin was in sympathy with his sentiments entirely.
But she couldn’t admit it.
‘Of course Matt can stay with Charlotte,’ she made herself say. ‘It makes sense.’
‘Of course it makes sense,’ Charlotte snapped, resentful that Erin felt she had any influence at all on Matt’s sleeping arrangements.
But Matt had other ideas. He knew by now exactly what the twins were capable of. Not that they’d worry Cecil, he thought. He knew them well enough by now to accept that if he told them they were guarding Cecil then they’d do it as if their lives depended on it, but what else they might do…
No! Erin’s job was to look after her twins, and his job was to look after Cecil. He couldn’t ask her to do both.
‘I’m sleeping here,’ he told Charlotte and watched her face darken. Damn, now he had to feel guilty!
‘Don’t you trust me with your bull?’ Erin teased, and he cast her an exasperated glance.
‘You have enough on your hands.’
‘I normally look after five kids,’ she told him, and her eyes were still teasing. Damn, they had the ability to mesmerise a man. ‘Two kids and a bull should be a piece of cake.’
‘Erin…’
‘Darling, don’t be stupid.’ Charlotte’s hand was still resting on his arm and he had to fight back the urge to shake it off. ‘You know you can come.’
‘Do you know how much this bull’s worth?’ he demanded, driving her against the ropes. If there was one thing Charlotte understood it was money.
‘But Matt…’
He didn’t trust them completely, Erin thought, watching the affianced couple, and who could blame him? If it was her priceless bull, would she leave him with the twins?
Yes, but then she knew her twins!
‘Look, let’s compromise,’ Erin suggested. Goodness, here she went again. This was what being a House Mother was all about-finding compromises before there was a scene, and the cattlemen listening around them meant that a scene would be quite spectacular.
‘Matt, what if you take Charlotte out for dinner while we care for Cecil? Then you can come back here to sleep. I guess we’ll probably be dead to the world by the time you return, but we’ll set up our bags right by Cecil and we promise we won’t leave him alone for a moment. He’ll be safe-won’t he boys?’
‘Yes,’ said William, and Henry took his thumb from his mouth long enough to say,
‘Yes, if he really has to go out with
‘He really does. Don’t you, Matt?’
And, with the eyes of the entire pavilion on him, what was a man to do but agree?
CHAPTER EIGHT
AS RESTAURANTS went, Charlotte would have rated this one as entirely satisfactory.
Show time was Lassendale’s biggest two weeks of the year. The hotel Charlotte was staying in was five star, and the restaurant chefs had pulled out all the stops to impress a clientele which, for these two weeks, was international and wealthy. Therefore Matt-who’d packed a suit as he always did, for business meetings with those who were interested in what Cecil could provide-escorted Charlotte into the dim recesses of the dining room and he knew he was in for a gastronomical treat.
He wasn’t disappointed. The waiter took one look at the sleek and svelte Charlotte and her handsome companion, and he ushered them to the best table, gave them the best service and they were treated to the best food Lassendale could offer.
Matt had an appetiser of some sort of tiny goat’s cheese souffle. Entree was ginger chilli prawns cooked to perfection, and then steak…
Steak!
Cecil.
Matt found his thoughts wandering right back to his bull-and to the people who’d be guarding him. All through appetiser and entree he’d fought to keep his attention on Charlotte’s small talk, but he could ignore the pull of his conscience no longer.
‘Maybe we should give sweets a miss,’ he told Charlotte tensely. ‘I’m a bit unhappy about Cecil.’
He wasn’t. He just…
He just didn’t know, but it didn’t seem right that Erin was back there and he was here.
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ Charlotte gave a soft laugh and put her hand over his. Curiously the motion made him flinch. It was all he could do not to pull away, and the sensation was starting to worry him. This was the woman he intended marrying, he told himself. To flinch was ridiculous.
He forced himself to return the pressure of her hand as she continued.
‘Darling, Erin does come from solid farming stock. I remember she used to take her father’s herd droving through the drought years when she was little more than a child herself. My parents were horrified, but I gather she coped very well.’
She had, too, Matt thought. Droving… He’d forgotten that.
Matt let Charlotte chatter on, but his thoughts flew elsewhere. In his late teens there’d been a drought which had left every farm in the district low on feed. Farms like Matt’s and Charlotte’s, where there’d been money to spare, had brought in food from interstate. But the Douglas family hadn’t been in that position and Jack Douglas, bereft from the loss of his children’s mother, simply didn’t care.
That had been the end of Erin’s formal schooling, he remembered. With seven siblings to feed and clothe, she couldn’t afford to let the farm go under. Aged all of fifteen years old, she’d taken herself out of school and driven her cattle around the dusty district roads, letting them graze on any roadside where there’d been any growth at all.
It was a desperate measure to keep her breeding stock alive. Somehow she’d managed it, and managed it alone, though he still didn’t know how.
And he remembered his mother’s fury when she discovered his father had taken Erin a pile of hay to let her stay in the same place for a while.
‘If the drought keeps up much longer we’ll need it ourselves,’ she’d hissed. ‘You don’t have to feel sorry for every destitute little tramp in the district…’
Destitute little tramp…
He looked into Charlotte’s flushed face and he knew she’d felt exactly the same. Erin had been very much alone then, and she was very much alone now.
‘I’ll go back,’ he said flatly, and the hand in his suddenly stilled.
‘Matt, don’t be stupid. I’d like sweets, and there’s dancing afterwards.’
‘But I have responsibilities.’ And then he looked up as a man he recognised appeared in the entrance. Bradley Moore. Of course. Bradley always stayed in the finest establishment, and he was always looking for someone to talk with about his horses. Charlotte was just the woman. She even liked horses! He lifted an arm. ‘Hi, Bradley. Over here!’
‘Matt!’
‘You like Bradley, don’t you?’
To his amazement, Charlotte blushed from the tip of her manicured toenails to the roots of her sleekly chignoned hair. ‘Yes, but…’
‘There you go, then,’ he said amiably. Why had he never seen how suited these two were? ‘Bradley, I need to go back to my bull. Could you keep Charlotte entertained on my behalf?’
