‘I can guess.’ In truth, he knew. Thanks to his father. The phones in Iluka had been running hot all day.
‘And the land tax on the land beneath the nursing home?’ she was saying. ‘The overheads?’ Still she was pressing her face. ‘The nephews took everything I didn’t own personally, and anything I do own has to be sold to keep the bank happy.’
‘So what does that have to do with this?’
‘I can’t accept. Even if I did I’d have to sell-’
‘This isn’t a gift,’ he said gently. He took her shoulders and steered her back to the kitchen. Bertram was shifting his sleepy body to the rug before the range and she thought suddenly, It’s warm. It’s warm!
But Joss was still speaking. ‘Everyone at Iluka has moved here from somewhere else,’ he told her. ‘It’s a retirement village so most people have built houses that are smaller than they’re used to. Daisy says there’s hardly a retiree who doesn’t have something that they can’t bear to sell but that doesn’t fit easily into their new home. So this furniture is on loan. For as long as you need it.’
‘But I can’t-’
‘You can. Hell, Amy, you work your butt off for these people. Allow them to repay it a little.’
‘But…’ She stared wildly around and focussed on the stove. There was a kettle on the hob, gently hissing steam. ‘How long have you had the stove on? And the heating? I can’t afford to pay for all this.’
‘The heating’s my lodging fee,’ he told her. ‘It’s self-interest on my part. I have a conference paper to write and I don’t like being cold. So I rang up the gas board and gave them my credit-card details. There’s at least a six- month supply of gas been credited to your account. You can’t use my rent to pay unimportant things like land tax. Oh, and speaking of land tax…’
‘Yes?’ She was so dazed she could hardly speak.
‘My father’s been on to Jack Trotter, the Shire President. The councillors had an emergency meeting this afternoon-in your kitchen.’
‘Here?’
‘Yes.’
‘I don’t believe this.’
‘You should have let them know. Amy, they were horrified to see how you were living. The whole district wants to help. They voted unanimously to waive land tax on White-Breakers and the nursing home for the next six years. Retrospectively. They can’t backdate it any more than a year but last year’s tax will be refunded.’
Amy was practically speechless, but she was becoming angry. ‘Joss, this is none of your business. I should never have let you near the place.’
‘Then that would have been a great shame. I’m sorry to have to tell you this but your time as a martyr is over.’
He was enjoying this, she thought. A genie granting three wishes couldn’t have looked any more placid than Joss Braden.
‘You can’t…’
But he was smiling. ‘I already have.’ He pulled a cheque from his pocket and handed it over. ‘Mrs Hobbs from the general store asked me to give this to you. I gather she’s the Shire treasurer.’
She looked down at the figure on the cheque and gaped. ‘This is crazy. And as for you paying the gas… You know I didn’t intend charging you rent. You mustn’t.’
‘It’s been done,’ he said virtuously. ‘You try getting refunds from the Gas Corporation. Good luck is all I can say.’
Heat. She had heat. She had furniture. And enough money for essentials.
She had Joss, and a dog.
‘Now to dinner,’ he told her, lifting her chin with one long, strong finger. ‘Bertram’s hungry, even if we’re not. Are you hungry?’
She couldn’t take it all in. All she could absorb was the question.
Was she hungry?
‘I’m starving,’ she told him and it was the truth. She was.
‘Good. Let’s eat.’
It was the strangest meal. Joss had brought one of Mrs Hobbs’s famous beef pies, and he had side dishes to match. Amy ate as she hadn’t eaten for months-no, years-and all the time Joss watched her with that curious look of complacency.
‘You look like a Scout who’s just received his knot certificate-and I’m your very tricky knot,’ she complained, and he grinned.
‘I can see that. A knot, huh? Would you like some lemon meringue pie? Mrs Hobbs threw it in free.’
‘Does the entire population of Iluka see me as their do-a-good-deed-to-Amy project?’ she asked cautiously, and his grin widened.
‘Don’t knock it. It’ll be a damned sight more comfortable than the way you’ve been living for the last four years. Why no one did anything about it…’
‘Yeah. You come sweeping into town-’
‘Guns blazing.’
‘Ego blazing,’ she retorted, and he chuckled.
‘Egos are good for something. Does Malcolm have an ego?’
‘Malcolm?’
‘Your fiance.’
‘I know who Malcolm is,’ she snapped. ‘And, no, as a matter of fact, he doesn’t have an ego.’
‘That’s why he hasn’t come to the rescue of his maiden in distress.’
‘I’m not in distress.’
‘You are. Or you were. You know, a knight in shining armour with ego to match can sometimes be a very good thing. He gets things done.’
‘Because he rides roughshod over people.’
‘I haven’t ridden roughshod over anyone,’ he said gently, and her indignation took a step back. OK, he hadn’t. Or…he had but in such a way…
‘Um…’
‘Wrap yourself around your lemon meringue pie,’ he told her kindly. ‘We don’t want to upset Mrs Hobbs, now-do we?’
‘No.’ Of course she didn’t.
But it wasn’t Mrs Hobbs she was thinking of.
CHAPTER FIVE
AFTERWARDS Joss helped Amy with the dishes and then settled himself down at the table with his briefcase and laptop.
‘Sergeant Packer rescued these, but the rest of my luggage is matchsticks,’ he told her sadly. ‘All I’m wearing is courtesy of my dad.’ He looked ruefully down at the splendid example of Daisy’s handiwork on his chest. ‘Fair Isle sweaters aren’t really my thing.’
‘I think you look very…fetching,’ she managed, and he glowered.
‘Fetching what?’
‘Fetching not very high stakes in fashion contests?’ she ventured, and ducked as a wad of paper sailed across the room and hit her on the forehead. ‘Ow.’
‘You asked for that.’
‘Hey, I like your sweater,’ she said, laughing, and his glower deepened. But he didn’t want to glower. She was smiling across the room at him and he wanted…
Damn, he knew exactly what he wanted, but the lady was engaged to be married. He was a guest in her house.
