At the front of the trailer was a Mini Minor, the kind that had been almost the coolest car on the planet back in the seventies. Though maybe it hadn’t been quite as cool as the Volkswagen Combi.
Um…what was she thinking? She hadn’t even been born in the seventies. This Mini, however, looked as if it had been. It was truly derelict. The little red and rust-red car had no wheels, no glass in its front windscreen and its hood was missing. What looked like grass was sprouting from where the engine should be.
And tied on behind was part of another Mini, in even worse repair. Instead of suffering from neglect, this one looked as if it had been smashed from behind. The back had been squashed almost to the front.
There was also a pile of assorted bits tied on top, meaning the trailer looked like a mini wrecker’s yard.
‘It’s William’s Christmas present to us all,’ Scott shouted and her boss beamed and she thought again-he looks great. Denim made him look
‘We saw a sign just out of town.’ Despite his bad leg, Scott was practically jigging his excitement. ‘It was in a paddock and it said For Sale. And parts as well. The guy restores Minis but his wife’s put her foot down. He has three finished Minis in his garage and two more to restore and his wife says the rest have to go. So he sold us this. Two cars’ll make one. He says there’s enough here to make a complete one. He reckons if I start now, by the time I get my licence I’ll have it on the road. If I get it going before then, I can practice in the paddocks. I can phone him any time I want, and if I’m really stuck he’s even offered to come out here to help.’
‘He really will,’ William said, still smiling. ‘This won’t be any work for either of you. I promise.’ His lovely, lazy smile lit his face and Meg thought frantically she’d have to give those hormones another slap.
‘I have faith,’ he went on. ‘This’ll mean eventually the farm has two cars. By the way, we also went to the motor place in Curalo and bought bits for your wagon, Letty. Your exhaust pipe has to be replaced and the silencer and so does the carburettor. If it’s okay with you, I might make a start this afternoon.’
‘You…’ Meg said, dazed.
‘I can fix cars,’ he said neutrally. ‘And Scott would like to learn.’
‘You want to fix my car?’ Letty said, while Meg simply stood with her mouth open.
‘If it’s okay with you.’
‘Marry me,’ Letty said, and Scott and William laughed-only, for some reason, Meg had trouble laughing. The sight of her boss in jeans was disconcerting enough, but she was looking at Scott’s flushed face and his shining happiness and she thought, why hadn’t she thought of this?
Scott was practically stranded here on the farm. His bad leg left him isolated. There were so many days when he simply gazed at his computer, in misery and in loneliness.
He now had a car to make. And it was an original Mini…
Mickey would come, she thought, and more. This project would be a magnet. Scott’s mates would come, as they had before the accident.
She was blinking back tears.
‘What’s wrong?’ William demanded, watching her face and clearly confounded.
She sniffed and tried desperately to think of something to say. Something to do rather than kiss him again, which seemed an entirely logical thing to do, but some germ of common sense was holding her back.
‘I…I wanted perfume,’ she managed, and her little brother stared at her as if she was out of her mind.
‘Perfume…when you could have these!’
‘They’re not very…girlie,’ she said and somehow she managed to sound doleful and Scott realised she was joking and grinned and hugged her. Which was amazing all by itself. How long since her seriously self-conscious brother had hugged?
‘I’ll let you drive my car,’ he offered, magnanimity at its finest. ‘Second drive after me, the minute I get it going.’
‘What an offer,’ she said and sniffed again and hugged him back and then smiled across at William through unshed tears.
‘Thank you, Santa,’ she said.
‘Think nothing of it,’ he said in a voice she didn’t recognise and then she thought, no, she did know what she was hearing.
Her normally businesslike boss was just a wee bit emotional himself.
It was time for milking. Letty and Meg milked because, ‘I’m not interfering with this, even if I have to milk the whole herd,’ Letty declared in wonder. Meg could only agree, for kids were arriving from everywhere. It seemed William had detoured past Mickey’s with their load-‘just to show him,’ Scott had told them, and Mickey had sent out word, and before they knew it a team of adolescents was unloading the heap of Mini jumble into the unused shed behind the dairy.
When milking was done Meg checked on Millicent-the little heifer was thankfully showing no signs of calving- then went to investigate. The teenagers were surrounded by Mini parts. William was under Letty’s car.
‘Sorry. I know I said I’d milk, but Letty assured me she could and someone had to supervise…’
Some supervision. All she could see of William was his legs. He was in his borrowed overalls again and his gumboots.
On the other side of the shed teenagers were happily dismantling the wreck, labelling pieces with Letty’s preserving stickers. She had a bunch of gloriously happy teenagers, and the guy who’d caused it all to happen was apologising. Meg stared down at her boss’s legs and thought she could totally understand where Letty’s proposal had come from.
And she’d never realised until now how sexy a pair of grease-covered legs could be.
‘So… So where did you learn mechanics?’ she managed.
‘I told you. Powering up my father’s golf cart.’ His voice was muffled, but she was aware of an undercurrent of contentment.
‘And the rest?’
‘My parents were away a lot. They had enough cars to warrant hiring a mechanic. He taught me.’
‘Nice guy,’ Meg said, deflected from thinking about legs-or almost. She thought instead of gossip she’d read about this man, about how appalling his parents sounded, how lonely his childhood must have been. ‘Did this mechanic have a name?’
‘Mr Himmel.’
‘Mr Himmel.’ She grimaced at the formality. ‘He called you Mr McMaster?’
‘Of course. Can you pass me under the tension wrench?’
‘Tension wrench?’
‘On the left with the blue handle.’
‘That’s a tension wrench?’
‘And you a dairy farmer and all.’
‘Dairy farmers aren’t necessarily mechanics. Plus I’m a commerce graduate. And a PA.’
‘Right, I forgot,’ he said, but absently, and she knew his attention was on whatever he needed the tension wrench for.
She watched his legs for a little. His attention was totally on the car.
She watched the boys for a little. Their attention was totally on the car.
Guys doing guy stuff.
Befuddled, she headed back to the dairy, where Letty was sluicing. They cleaned almost in silence but she was aware that Letty kept glancing at her.
‘What?’ Meg said at last, exasperated.
‘He’s lovely.’
‘So why are you looking at me?’ She sighed. ‘Anyway, he’s not lovely. He’s covered in grease.’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘Okay, I do,’ she admitted. ‘But you know who he is, so you can stop looking at me like you think I should do something about it. He’s William McMaster, one of the wealthiest men on the planet. He’s my boss and I have one
