The Cattleman's Ready-Made Family. Michelle Douglas

of them raced to the front door of the old farmhouse. Cam retrieved his contract and then stood under the Kurrajong tree and dragged in a breath. Okay, the house was neither here nor there. he had no plans for it. Those forty hectares, though, did matter and he wanted—needed—Tess’s signature on the dotted line.

      And he wasn’t leaving until he had it.

      He followed them into the house.

      ‘Bags this room!’ Tyler shouted from the corridor off to the right. ‘It has a view of the front and I can see who’s coming, which is good ’cause I’m the man of the house.’

      That almost made Cam smile again, only he remembered how pale the boy had gone when Cam had appeared unannounced.

      The toilet flushed, the sound of water running in a tap and then Krissie raced down the corridor too. ‘Auntie Tess, this is your room! And this one is mine ’cause it’s right next to yours!’

      Cam let out a breath as he glanced around. The yard might need some TLC, but the women from the Save-Our-Town committee had cleaned this place to within an inch of its life. The furniture might be mismatched—favouring comfort more than elegance—but there wasn’t a single dust bunny in sight. ‘Coffee?’ he called out, wanting Tess to know he’d followed them into the house.

      ‘Excellent idea,’ she called back.

      He strode into the kitchen and put the jug on to boil. The farmhouse wasn’t fancy by any means, but it had a certain homey charm. he had the impression that Tess would turn it into a home in the blink of an eye.

      What on earth was he talking about? He shook his head. She already had, and he wasn’t sure how. It took more than a smile and a song to make a home.

      Didn’t it?

      He let himself out of the back door, the contract burning a hole against his palm as he moved down the steps to stare out at those magical forty hectares. She was paying a dollar a week in rent for all that. It was enough to make a grown man weep.

      He straightened. He had a canola contract to fulfil—he’d given his word—and he wasn’t going to let anyone steal it out from under him. His lips twisted. He didn’t doubt for a moment that one person in particular in Bellaroo Creek would try to do exactly that, but would his mother be party to such duplicity?

      ‘You better get that particular look off your face quick smart or you’ll give Ty and Krissie nightmares for a month.’

      He blinked to find Tess holding a mug out to him. He frowned. ‘I was supposed to be making those.’ He’d meant to make a stab at the country-hospitality approach first before bombarding her with his demand. Besides, she had dark circles beneath those magnificent eyes of hers. If she’d left two hours from the other side of Sydney this morning she’d have driven for the best part of eight hours.

      The least he could’ve done was make her a cup of coffee. And mow the lawn. And trim that hedge of plumbago.

      ‘No matter, and sorry but I put milk in it before I thought. If you want sugar—’

      ‘No, this is great,’ he said hastily. ‘Thanks.’

      Her lips twitched. ‘You didn’t strike me as a sugar-in-theircoffee type.’

      What was that supposed to mean?

      She stared out at the fields and drew a breath deep into her lungs. ‘Oh, my, look at it all!’

      His skin tightened. His muscles tensed.

      ‘You live in a beautiful part of the world, Cameron.’

      ‘Cam.’ The correction came out husky. The only person to call him Cameron was his mother. ‘But you’re right.’ He nodded towards the fields. ‘It’s beautiful.’

      And by rights it should be his. He spun to her. ‘There’s something—’

      ‘I want to apologise for being late.’

      He blinked at her interruption. ‘No problem.’

      ‘We had one threat of car sickness.’

      He grimaced.

      ‘And I took a wrong turn when we left Parkes. I started heading towards Trundle instead of Bellaroo Creek.’

      ‘That’s in completely the opposite direction.’

      ‘That’s what a man on a tractor told us.’

      He shifted his weight, opened his mouth.

      She pointed back behind her with an infectious grin. ‘Do you know somebody left us a cake?’

      He found one side of his mouth hitching up at her delight. ‘That’d be my mother. I’d know her sultana cake anywhere. It’s her speciality.’

      ‘Then you must stay for a slice.’

      He adjusted his stance. ‘Look, there’s something I need to talk to you about.’

      Her gaze had dropped to take an inventory of his shoulders and he could feel himself tensing up again, but at his words her eyes lifted. She sipped her coffee. ‘Yes?’

      ‘It’s about that land out there.’ He gestured out in front of them.

      ‘Wow! Look how big the yard is!’

      With whoops, Ty and Krissie swooped down the back steps and into the yard. Cam winced at how overgrown it all was.

      ‘What kind of tree is that, Auntie Tess?’

      She shaded her eyes and peered to where Krissie pointed. ‘Tell me?’ she shot out of the corner of her mouth and it made him want to laugh. ‘Please?’

      ‘Lemon tree,’ he answered in an undertone.

      She turned and beamed at him. It cracked open something wide inside him—something that made him hot and cold at the same time. Before he could react in any way whatsoever, she set her coffee to the ground, danced down to the lemon tree and the children with her arms outstretched as if to embrace them all. But he could’ve sworn she’d whispered, ‘Smile,’ at him before she’d danced away.

      ‘It’s a lemon tree!’

      The children cheered. They all started rattling off the things they’d make with the lemons—lemonade, lemon butter, lemon-meringue pie, lemon chicken, lemon tea—as if it were a litany they’d learned off by heart. As if it were a list that made the world a better place.

      And as he watched them Cam thought that maybe it did.

      ‘Where do you live, um…Mr…?’

      He gazed down at Krissie with her blonde curls, and her big brown eyes identical to Tess’s, and recalled the way she’d jumped when he’d first spoken. Smile. ‘You can call me Cam,’ he said, making his voice gentle. ‘If that’s okay with your auntie Tess.’

      Tess nodded her assent, but he was aware that she watched him like a hawk—or a mother bear hell-bent on protecting her cubs.

      ‘You can see my house from here.’ He led them towards the line of Kurrajong trees at the side fence and gestured across the acre field to his home beyond.

      ‘Wow,’ Ty breathed. ‘It’s big.’

      It was, and the sandstone homestead was a point of local pride. ‘My great-great-great-grandfather was one of the first settlers in the area. His son built that house.’

      ‘Is it a farm?’

      ‘It is. It’s called Kurrajong Station because of all the Kurrajong trees. It’s large for these parts at six thousand hectares.’ It wasn’t a boast, just pure fact.

      ‘What do you farm?’

      That was Tess. He eyed her for a moment. He sure as hell hoped she didn’t have any interests in that direction. ‘Cattle, sheep and wheat mostly.’ And just as soon as he had his forty hectares back