To Love and To Cherish. Jennie Adams

Clearly he and Samuel had locked horns enough that Jack would avoid the place now.

      Milking started early on the dairy farm. Jack would have to be on the road before five a.m.—not to mention how she would cope with all that time in his presence after so long, with her thoughts and feelings all in a whirl.

      ‘Your motel is in Ruffy’s Crossing. It’s an hour’s drive away. And you can’t stay at Mum and Dad’s place because it’s being painted.’

      That only left one other choice—one which she felt certain he would reject.

      ‘The only other option would be for you to stay at the cottage with me for the duration. Obviously you won’t want to do that.’

      ‘Why not?’ He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘I’ve stayed there in the past. It will be just like old times.’

      Just like old times? They would pretend the bit in between had never happened?

      ‘Don’t prevaricate, Tiff. You need help. If not me, it would have to be one of your brothers.’ Jack touched the small of her back, a tiny guiding contact as he led her towards his Jeep. ‘Let’s go. I’ve got my travel bag on the back seat, with plenty of clothes that’ll do to work in while I’m here.’

      What other choice did she have? Call one of her brothers and let her whole family know she hadn’t lasted more than a couple of days while she tried to run the farm alone? How would that look for living up to their faith in her?

      ‘All right.’ She tried to ignore the sensation of warmth that spread at the base of her spine from his touch. ‘I accept your offer of help—as one friend to another.’

      She just hoped she wasn’t making a huge mistake. Because the next ten days could be a slice of that old, wonderful friendship, or be charged with the same unease she felt now.

      Tiffany wasn’t sure which it would be!

      CHAPTER TWO

      ‘WE’RE almost done. There are only about fifty goats still out there in the waiting room.’

      It was early morning. Jack made his observation as he rounded the corner of one row of the milking parlour and told himself things were working out just as he wanted. Better, in fact. Ron’s accident was unfortunate, and he really felt for Tiffany’s worker, but Jack hadn’t expected to have a chance to spend so much quality time with Tiffany—and that, in and of itself, was a good thing.

      Once they both began to relax into that time it would be really beneficial to their friendship.

      He was here for that reason and nothing else. Last night had been uneasy, but that was to be expected. He’d kept the conversation on simple, uncomplicated topics—friendly topics. And if Tiff hadn’t seemed entirely happy with that state of affairs—well, she would come to realise it was best.

      Jack would make sure of that. Because he wanted his visit here to work out. He wanted her back in his life the way she had been before. Jack wanted that much of Tiffany more than he could let himself acknowledge, and he would have it.

      There was no need to delve into aspects of the past that had no bearing now. The wrong path he’d started on with Tiffany before he went away. The Samuel factor. The other challenges Jack had faced in recent months. Jack had all of that stuff sorted.

      He had missed Tiffany a lot. But as a friend, nothing more.

      Right.

      A snarl formed on his face, and he forced it away. The travelling yesterday must have frustrated him, or something. That was all.

      ‘One more milking cycle will take care of it, then.’ Tiffany rounded the corner from the opposite direction, and pulled up a millimetre short of stepping right into his arms.

      Jack sucked in his breath and stepped abruptly backwards to avoid that direct contact. He resisted the urge to check that his thick shirt was correctly in place, and ran his fingers over his hair instead. ‘I guess you didn’t realise I was so close.’

      ‘No. Sound distorts in here sometimes. I thought you were further away—in the next row.’ Her pointy chin rose to a defensive angle. She stepped away and checked the flow of milk through the tubing that ran along the row. ‘Actually, we won’t be entirely finished with the milking when we’re done here.’

      She paused to tuck her overalls more firmly into her gumboots. Her T-shirt today was lemon, with tiny flowers designed onto it, her overalls a soft, mellow green. She wore no hat, and her hair looked soft and inviting where it sprang out from its loose ponytail. He had teased her yesterday, but in truth Tiffany was way too attractive—no matter what she dressed in.

      Tiffany pulled a wry face. ‘Amalthea avoided the milk shed again today, so it looks like I get to hand-milk her again.’

      Jack drew his gaze away from the soft curvature of her arms, the halo of her hair. It shouldn’t have been difficult to do so. ‘You should have told me that goat was missing. I would have searched her out for you.’

      The words were harsh, almost a growl. He clamped his mouth shut before anything else could come out, turned away, and tried to soften his tone to something a bit more normal. ‘I’ll help you find her later, if you like.’

      ‘That’s okay. I saw her hidden behind some hay bales in the south paddock. I doubt she will have moved.’ Tiffany gave him a puzzled look and turned away. ‘I’ll get a bucket and take care of business later.’

      They worked in silence for a few moments. The routine never changed. Check, regulate, ensure all the goats took the supplement, that they all appeared bright and in good health. This was good. Relaxed, normal.

      Jack tried for some chitchat to cement that effect. ‘How are your wildlife photos coming along? I noticed you’ve added quite a bit of material to your website.’

      ‘Did you visit it while you were away? You e-mailed so irregularly I didn’t think…’ She trailed off and looked away.

      Yes, Tiff. I visited the website almost every day. It gave me a connection, and I needed it. Even when I remained out of contact with you.

      ‘I dropped by now and then. I liked the one of the goanna up on its hind legs, running up the middle of a dirt road.’

      ‘Thanks. It was one of those lucky shots. I was toying with colour contrasts and a new zoom lens, caught movement, and realised the goanna was running towards me from a distance.’

      Dust motes danced in beams of sunshine above her and his body tightened with an unwelcome interest.

      Regret shifted inside him, and Jack battened it down. He had to look forward, not back. It was the only way to salvage anything. He pushed a smile to his face. ‘It’s my guess you got out of the goanna’s way before it got too close?’

      ‘Oh, yes.’ She laughed. ‘There’s no shame in the judicious use of long-range photographic equipment.’ Tiffany’s laughter faded, but her expression remained warm, vulnerable. ‘I got that shot on one of the treks Jan and I made last month.’

      ‘Your watercolour friend from Sydney?’ His heart soaked up the sound of her laughter.

      ‘Yes. Jan got into her art about the same time I took up photography. She’s fun to be around.’

      As they finished up in the shed, Tiffany told him a little more about her most recent photography expeditions.

      As she talked, they both began to relax. Jack didn’t realise how much until they stepped outside into the morning light and stood side by side at the sink to wash up.

      Then Tiffany’s chatter died away. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye and her shoulders drew up into a tight line. All the ease left her. ‘Jack—about that last night before you went away. And the days that led up to it. I need to tell you I truly thought—’

      ‘You don’t need to say anything. It was just a mistake,