Libby soaked in her bath trying to ease the aches and pains wracking her tired body, refusing to give into her heated fantasies about Nathan as her fingers fluttered over her breasts in an attempt to wash herself. Even the scathing remarks about her incompetence and lack of country spirit couldn’t dampen her body’s reaction when his face came to mind.
Annoyed with herself, Libby pulled the plug and stood briskly, drying herself before dressing in old, comfortable clothes.
As Tom and Winton came through the gate, Libby took a bottle of red wine from the pantry with a couple of glasses. She rummaged through the drawer for a corkscrew to open the wine. When she had popped the cork, she put her hand on the older man’s arm and headed to the front veranda.
“Sit and relax.” She put the glasses on the little table she’d placed between the two rocking chairs. Libby tipped the bottle and filled their glasses, swirling the wine as the setting sun reflected off the ruby liquid. She passed the glass to Tom and sat in her rocking chair, letting her head fall back.
“This is the life.” She took a much needed sip of her wine to calm her frazzled nerves and tried to block out the unwanted picture of a tall, handsome farmer who appeared each time she closed her eyes. “I’m not much of a fancy cook, so let’s just have a quick barbecue tonight.”
“No complaints from me.”
The singing of the cicadas in the gum trees was the only background to the quiet stillness of the house as they all relaxed from their first sheep mustering.
Tom’s voice broke into her mindless wandering. “Ever been to a barn dance?”
“No.” She turned to look at him. “Tell me about them.”
“Just a good excuse for country folk to get together. One coming up in a couple of weeks if you want to go, might be a good chance to meet some of the locals.”
“I could deal with that. What do you wear and more importantly, can the kids come, do you think?”
“’Course they can. You wear a dress, I guess. What do women usually wear to a dance?”
“A dress, I suppose, but I’ve never been to a country dance.” Libby took another sip of her wine. “I could always go into town and see what they suggest at the dress shop.”
Tom sat back in his seat, a satisfied smile on his face. Libby stood to start the barbecue, pressing a hand gently to his shoulder as he offered to get up and help her. She insisted he sit, that she’d cook tonight.
By the time the hotplate was ready, Holly had come back to the house and was talking about the lambs to Tom.
“They need to sleep with me, Tom. In my room.”
He shared a glance with Libby. “Tell you what, you let them sleep in the barn nice and comfortable in the pens where they should be and I’ll wake you up early to feed them.”
Libby had watched her little girl blossom under the watchful eye of the older man, and apart from the incident when Nathan had threatened to shoot the wandering cattle, Holly was taking to country life like a duck to water.
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
The smell of marinated steak wafted through the evening air as Libby tossed them to cook the other side. She called the boys. “Josh, Winton, set the table please.”
Libby turned the hotplate off, went inside to grab the salads and put them all on the table. Two tall candles added a soft glow over their meal. She sat Tom at the head of the table, took the other end for herself, and placed the kids on either side. It was a good feeling, eating outside together after what they’d achieved that day. They were all exhausted but happy with their day’s work and looking forward to the shearers coming and cleaning the animals up.
“That was a lovely meal.” Tom leaned back and rubbed his belly with his hands. “Thanks. It’s been a while since someone’s cooked for us so much, eh, Winton?”
“Yes, missus, um, sorry, Libby.” Winton’s face split with a huge grin. “That was pretty damn good.”
“Holly, you can help me clear the table, and the boys can do the dishes.” Tom picked up his plate. “I think your mum deserves to sit this one out. What do you reckon?”
A chorus of yes rang around the table, and Libby felt pleasantly relieved to have someone else in charge for a change. Tom was great for her children, and he was becoming a good friend to her. She had no qualms about having him in her house and ordering her kids around. They all accepted and treated each other as family, and that made for a big glow in her heart. They were all orphans of a kind. For too long her kids and her had missed out on having family around them. John’s father was never accepting of Libby to start with, and after the funeral, well, she tried to not go there very often.
Her mother had died when she was a teenager, and she’d been on her own until she had met John. Now they were starting to feel like they belonged again, a widow, her two kids, an old man, and an orphaned boy. We’ll survive or die trying. She smiled to herself. This was their home, and they were all staying and making the most of it. Will or not, Nathan Miller was not getting his hands on their land.
Libby listened to the good-natured bantering between the kids as they cleaned up the dishes. She picked a book off the side table, and curling up in the rocking chair, tried to read up on her vegetable garden some more. She was pleased with the success of her efforts, despite Josh still insisting she killed everything she touched. They were eating small salad leaves
