managed time to cook. I lay in my cot last night and thought: these two visitors from the old country have obviously categorised me as a rotten housekeeper so the best thing I can do is to show them I’m not a total wuss.’
Which was so far from what Jenna was thinking of him that she blinked.
‘You mean you’ve actually managed to heat your baked beans?’ she managed, and his smile widened.
‘Nope. At great personal sacrifice I’m forgoing baked beans this morning. It’s pancakes. I’ve already made the batter. Let’s go.’ He took Karli’s hand and they started walking toward the back door. Jenna was left with no choice but to follow them, which she did, feeling like a small, obedient pup. A stunned pup.
‘What do you mean, pancakes?’ she asked his retreating back.
‘Don’t they have pancakes in England? Surely it’s not all black pudding and spotted dick?’
‘Well, yes. But…’
‘Trust me, lady.’ Riley ushered Karli through the back door, and then stood aside for Jenna to precede him. She walked past and her skin brushed his. She was wearing a halter top and shorts. Not enough of her skin was covered. Not enough of his skin was covered.
Did he have any idea of the effect he had on her? Trust him? He had to be joking.
Luckily Riley didn’t notice her discomposure-or if he did he ignored it. Jenna had time to find her composure, sit herself down at the table with Karli and school her features into something akin to polite interest.
Polite interest, she told herself desperately. That was all she was allowed to feel.
Impossible ask.
‘I like pancakes,’ Karli announced. ‘Can you really cook them?’
‘You’d better believe it.’
They had no choice but to believe. While they watched in wonder, Riley poured batter into a hot pan, swirled, flipped and then flicked the finished product onto waiting plates.
‘You’ve done this hundreds of times,’ Jenna accused, and if her voice wasn’t quite normal it was close enough. She hoped.
‘Just as well for you guys,’ Riley admitted. ‘I make them with powdered milk, so they’re one of the few foods that cooks up well out here. Mind, I had to scrape my first attempts off the ceiling.’ He grinned. ‘I got a bit ambitious with my flipping to start with. Okay. Hop in. There’s a tin of jam in the crate behind you.’
‘A tin?’
‘You were expecting home-cooked preserves?’ Another pancake flipped onto the pile and he sat down, cooking finished. ‘The only thing to preserve here would be saltbush, and I don’t fancy saltbush jam.’
‘Ugh.’
‘My sentiments exactly.’
‘How can you make pancakes without egg?’ Jenna was glaring as though suspecting him of some conjuring act.
‘Powdered egg,’ he told her briefly. He gave her a smug smile. ‘It works better for pancakes than for chocolate cake-but you have to be a very experienced cook to know that. Now stop asking questions and eat.’
Jenna glared again, but Riley was ignoring her and concentrating on the important things in life. Pancakes. So was Karli. There was nothing for Jenna to do but concentrate as well.
The pancakes didn’t just look delicious. They were delicious. Or maybe it was just the sensation of sitting at the table with this enigmatic man of whom Jenna knew nothing.
She did know nothing, she reminded herself desperately. It was silly to feel as she was feeling.
But as he teased Karli, as they discussed how much jam one pancake could hold, as they giggled like two five- year-olds and Karli blossomed into the laughing, happy little girl Jenna knew she could be, all she knew was that she was falling deeper in love by the minute.
That was what could be described as delicious, she acknowledged. Delicious, exhilarating-and altogether too stupid for words!
‘Who taught you to cook pancakes?’ Jenna asked as she surfaced for air three pancakes later. Karli had disappeared back to her hammer and nails-her newfound love of carpentry was far too important to be delayed by something as dull as food.
Jenna had been intent on scraping up a last morsel of jam as she asked. There was no immediate answer. She looked up and found Riley’s face was suddenly grim. ‘I said no more questions.’
‘Until I ate my pancakes. If I eat one more I’ll pop. So tell me. Your mum?’
‘Not likely.’
The words were said harshly, and Jenna looked curiously across the table at Riley.
‘That sounds like your childhood might have shades of mine,’ she told him. ‘Did it?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You know what I mean.’ She hesitated-but then, what had she to lose? Riley’s good opinion? In a few days she’d be nothing but a memory to this man, she thought. She might as well be a pesky memory.
‘The nurses I work with… The patients I care for…’ she continued, watching his face. ‘I can usually tell who’s come from a happy background. I used to be incredibly jealous of kids whose parents loved them, so much so that it got to be a bit of a masochistic habit-choosing the people with a happy family.’ She hesitated. ‘I’m willing to bet your parents weren’t into happy families.’
‘That’s none of your business.’
Jenna shrugged and started clearing. ‘It’s just…you seem to know so much about us and I know next to nothing about you.’
‘Maybe that’s the way I like it.’
This was like hammering bricks with a feather. Useless. Still, Jenna wasn’t a girl who gave up. Not when she really wanted to know. She’d gained a reputation in nursing circles for helping even the most recalcitrant patients confide their troubles-and trouble was behind this man, Jenna knew for sure. Trouble with a capital T.
Maybe laughter would work. ‘Is it dark, brooding and mysterious you’re being, Mr Jackson?’ she teased. She faced him full on, and with an effort she even made her eyes twinkle. ‘Do you yearn to play Heathcliff?’
‘To your Cathy?’ There was no answering smile. Riley was still and watchful-as though he couldn’t make Jenna out, and he didn’t trust her one inch. What on earth was the man expecting her to do? she thought ruefully. Bite him?
Jump him?
Ha.
‘You have to be kidding,’ Jenna managed. ‘Heathcliff’s Cathy? I have better things to do with my life than pine for lost love and die in childbirth.’
‘I’m glad to hear it.’ All of a sudden Riley’s voice was strained to the point of breaking. ‘But I’d prefer a bit less of the curiosity, if you don’t mind.’
‘You think I’m nosy?’
‘You and Maggie.’
‘I like Maggie,’ she told him. ‘I don’t even know who she is and I’ll bet you’re not going to tell me.’
‘There’s no need to tell you. Why are women so damned curious?’
‘We’re taught it in girl school,’ she flashed. ‘Where we’re taught that girls like ironing and men like taking out the garbage, but men are otherwise useless. However, at great personal sacrifice, I’ll concede that in certain situations men do have their uses. Therefore if I wash, you can wipe. Only I’d prefer you to keep your distance as you do, Mr Jackson. Let’s keep our compartments separate.’
‘Suits me.’
His voice was light but Jenna flashed him a doubtful glance-and realised he was serious.
Jenna’s accusation of categorisation had been made flippantly, but she was astute enough to realise that, for Riley, those categories held truth. Something in Riley’s face said he was stretched tight with the strain of having her close. More. She looked at his face and knew that he didn’t want her here. Badly.
She swallowed.
‘Riley, would you prefer if Karli and I stayed out of your way today?’
She was right. She knew by the way his eyes flashed to hers that she was right.
But it was stupid and he knew it. He gave her a rueful smile. ‘Who’s going to tell Karli that she can’t hammer?’
‘It’s me you don’t want close, then?’
