The Last-Minute Marriage

‘I don’t want to feel rescued for the rest of my life.’

‘Yes, you do.’

‘No.’ She was talking to herself, to the cows, to anyone who’d listen. She had two sides of her brain competing. Or maybe it was her head and her heart.

‘He’d come up my end of the veranda,’ she told her cow. ‘If I pressed.’

‘You wouldn’t have to press. You know darn well what it feels like whenever we touch. He feels it, too. I know he does. And he’s a male.’

‘Are you suggesting a spot of seduction?’

‘You’re married to him. It’s hardly illegal.’

‘Are you out of your mind? In two weeks he’ll go away and…’

‘And break your heart.’

Head and heart converged right there. The truth was unpalatable but it was unescapable.

‘You’ve really fallen for him, haven’t you?’ she whispered.

‘Maybe I have,’ she whispered back. ‘But it’s not the knight in shining armour I want. Or…not very much. It’s the man who makes Harry laugh. The man who cares for his assistant. Who makes Ruby smile. Who makes my heart twist…’

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

‘So keep on with what you’re doing,’ she told herself. ‘Keep it light. Keep it distant. And above all, keep your heart intact.’

‘Your heart hasn’t been intact for five days.’

‘It has to be.’

Peta finished milking and returned to the house to find Harry packing sausages into a picnic basket.

‘Beach night,’ he said as she paused in the kitchen door.

Beach night. It was a custom they’d had for years. On a warm, still night like this they’d take their dinner to the beach, light a fire and cook it there. They’d swim and eat and return to the house at dusk.

It was a great idea. But… Was it a great idea when Marcus was around?

‘He’s still down there,’ Harry told her. ‘I went to see and he’s gone for a run. He’s just a dot on the horizon. I reckon we could get the campfire burning before he comes back.’

‘I thought… Won’t he want to cook? He bought lots of ingredients this morning.’

‘It’s our turn to cook-and we make great sausages,’ Harry retorted. ‘I’ll watch them so you don’t even get to burn them.’

‘Gee, thanks.’

‘Go get your swimsuit,’ he told her. ‘Hurry up.’

‘But…’

‘But what?’

But… She just knew it wasn’t wise. Help.

They’d done this often. They were expert. By the time Marcus returned from his run, they had the fire burning and there was already a bed of hot coals. They’d scooped the flame from the centre and the sausages were sizzling in their pan. Marcus had seen the smoke in the distance and, as his jogging slowed to a walk, he realised they were here and waiting for him. The smell of sausages reached him and he had no need of Harry’s shouted announcement.

‘We’re having a barbecue. Come and get it.’

Peta looked up from turning the sausages. She had on a swimming costume, but she’d thrown an oversized T- shirt over it. A pity…

‘Hey, great pecs,’ Harry called and he suddenly thought an oversized T-shirt was a really good idea. Peta was smiling at him and heck, he felt like blushing.

‘Cut it out,’ he growled.

‘Are you brave enough to eat one of my sausages?’ Peta was saying, taking pity on him but still smiling. Harry hastened to reassure him.

‘I’ve done most of the cooking and the cake for afterwards is one you guys bought at the bakers today.’

‘So I needn’t worry about being poisoned?’ he asked and watched Peta’s smile widen. She had the loveliest smile…

‘My cooking’s not that bad.’

‘Yes, it is,’ Harry said cheerfully. ‘How many sausages, Marc? Three or four?’

‘Six.’ He sank down on the picnic rug. Sausages were something he normally wouldn’t consider but they looked great. He’d been outside all day. He was starving, he realised. Even if Peta had burned them…

‘If you’re hungry enough you’ll eat anything,’ she said, as if reading his thoughts. ‘Cooking classes are a waste of time.’

‘And cooks are a waste of time?’

‘I’m sure whatever’s important to you is your own business,’ she said primly and he grinned at the twinkle behind her green eyes. She had the capacity to tease. To make him smile inside. To make him feel…

Heck, to make him feel as if he did want to save her. To take her as his Cinderella and turn her into his companion for life. If she could always be here. Laughing at him. Gently mocking. Making his life light from within…

Stupid thought. Brought on by hunger and by sausages. He made a frantic attempt to haul his senses-all his senses-back to what was most important.

‘Did you bring ketchup?’ he asked.

‘Ketchup?’ Harry looked nonplussed.

‘He means sauce,’ Peta told him. ‘He talks American.’

‘You should learn Australian,’ Harry said, handing over the sauce bottle. ‘It’s not really even sauce. It’s dead horse. You say pass the dead horse and every Australian knows what you mean. So I guess dead horse is Australian for ketchup.’

‘I have a lot to learn,’ Marcus said faintly.

‘You do,’ Harry agreed. ‘You’re going to have to hurry up to fit it all into two weeks.’

They ate their sausages and their chocolate cake and then Peta went for a swim. Harry disappeared back to the house-to finish his volcanoes. Maybe Marcus should have gone, too, but how could he leave Peta swimming alone? The fact that he knew for sure she swam alone nearly every day didn’t cut it. She was swimming alone now and he was staying.

In truth, he wanted to go back into the water as well, but he couldn’t. Something stopped him.

Being in the water with her… Somehow it seemed like taking a step to her end of the veranda.

So he watched from a distance that was safe enough to almost seem detached. Almost.

She didn’t swim as he had. She must be tired, he thought, as he watched her float on her back and gaze up into the flame-filled sunset. She’d been up since five this morning and for most of that time she’d been working hard. Her ankle must be hurting. She had no need to stretch her muscles as he had. She was content just to float.

She was content.

There was the difference, he thought. That was why he was so attracted to her. She was…peaceful. She’d settled back into her lot with joy. All she wanted was her farm and a future for her brothers. She had no need of anything else.

Problems that would fester and sour in others were nothing to her. The locals seemed to have sent her family to purgatory. She had little money and even less in the way of material possessions. Her future was bound by this tiny farm.

She wouldn’t want what he had to offer, he thought, and the thought jarred.

Was he offering?

He didn’t know.

But… Was he offering? The thought stayed. Like an insidious fleck of some matter he’d never heard of, it