Chapter Twelve
The outside security light bathed the new farmhouse and the work shed in bright white light as Garth turned the ute into the parking bay close to the house gate.
“You built the new house?” Lucy had asked as they drove past the old farmhouse. They’d called at Prickle Creek Farm on the way home and picked up her laptop and the memory card from Seb’s camera. Garth had waited in the ute while Lucy had run inside.
“Yep. Wanted a place of my own. Made it feel as though it was mine and I wasn’t just back where I grew up.” He shrugged. “I know it sounds silly, but I’m going to make my life here, and I wanted it to be mine. You know, not feel like a kid playing on Mum and Dad’s farm? And the harvesters bunk down in the old house. And I’m thinking about doing it up a bit and having farm stays there for city kids who don’t get a chance for a holiday.”
“Sounds like you’ve got some great plans for the place.” Lucy looked at him with her head tilted to the side. “You’ll be putting a lot of your time and money into the farm.”
Garth sensed the question in her words. He hated sounding like he was building himself up, but he wanted Lucy to know he was comfortable—more than comfortable. “I did okay over in the west. I worked hard for three years. Instead of flying back home for the two weeks after my two-week shift in the mine, I worked on a wheat farm over there. Set me up to buy the olds’ place and left me some spare cash to try some new things.” He didn’t mention his shrewd investments. It sounded enough like bragging as it was.
The dogs set up a cacophony of barking in the yard and he turned to them, relieved to stop talking about himself.
“Quiet,” he yelled, and the three dogs slunk off to their kennels, surprised by the unfamiliar reprimand.
Garth held out his hand for Lucy to pass her computer to him before she stepped down from the high vehicle. She was a petite woman, and a surge of longing filled him. Damn shame she was so keen on going back to the city. He blocked the picture in his mind of her living here. Not going to happen.
He held open the gate for her, and she walked into the yard and looked around. A couple of pots filled with straggly dead plants leaned against the unpainted timber fence.
“Bit different from your gran’s beautiful garden.” Garth shrugged. “As much as I’d like to get it nice, there’s not enough time in a day for me to look after the whole farm, let alone the garden.”
“Are you sure you’ve got time for me to be here tonight?”
“Of course. I’ll get you set up, and I can do some paperwork while you do whatever you have to do. That’s one thing I made sure I had, a fast internet connection. My router is hardwired into an antenna on the roof. It picks up the satellite connection twenty-four-seven.”
He chuckled at the look on Lucy’s face. “What do we have here? A non-techno person?”
“My nickname at work is Techno-Gumby,” she said with a smile. “I can use the graphics and word processing software and send an email, but that’s about it. I can do what I need to do, but I don’t understand how it works.” She put one hand on her hip and waved the other in the air. “It’s because I am a creative person. I have an aura where computers are concerned. And it’s not a productive one.”
She giggled in a self-deprecating way, and Garth smiled along with her. She was so cute and quirky. More and more of the Lucy he remembered from school days was coming back.
“Remember Mrs Johnson, the art teacher?” he said. “You were the class pet, and she encouraged you when you decided you weren’t going to wear the school uniform anymore. I can still remember the look on the headmaster’s face when you came to school wearing two different coloured stockings and your Doc Martens and that short little pink skirt. I thought he was going to have a stroke on the spot. His face turned the same colour as your boots.”
“I’d forgotten that.” Her smile was even wider now. “And you know what? I’ve still got those purple Doc Martens. As well as the new purple Blundstones I had on the other day.”
“You love your purple, don’t you?” He shot her an affectionate look as they walked through the kitchen to the adjacent open-plan study where Garth had set up his desk. A surge of pride ran through him as Lucy cast an approving eye over the space.
“Very nice. Who designed the house? It’s so unusual.”
“I had a mate over in WA who worked at the mine with me. He was an architect doing some design work. I told him what I was planning, and we drew it up between shifts. It’s designed to be naturally temperature-controlled.”
Lucy’s eyes tracked along the slope of the ceiling to the storage loft above the laundry. “I love it. It’s almost Japanese, with all the screens.”
“Still a bit bare, but I’ll get there.”
“In your spare time,” she said with another laugh.
“That’s about right.” He cleared a space on the desk and pointed to the outlet above the desk. “You get yourself set up, and I’ll put some coffee on.”
He held the chair out for her, and Lucy pulled the small computer from her bag and sat down. “Coffee will be great. I am a bit sleepy, and I have a lot of work to do. Gran’s kept me busy, but you know—I’ve enjoyed being with her and Jemmy in the kitchen.” Her smile was sweet, and Garth caught his breath as she looked up at him. “And thanks so much for letting me use your connection. I really do appreciate it.”
“Truth be known, I appreciate the company. Gets a bit quiet here at night.” He laughed as the dogs started barking outside, as if on cue. “Apart from the dogs, that is.”
“Another visitor?” she asked.
“No, it’ll be kangaroos. They come in about this time every night and feed on the new growth where I’m trying to get the lawn growing.” He spread his palms open and grimaced. “Between the dogs and the roos, I think I’m going to be living on red dust for a while.”
“You need Gran over here with her magic touch.” Her expression was shy as she returned his gaze. “Or if you would like, I can repay you for using your connection and come over and help out with the garden.”
Satisfaction spread thought Garth. “I’ll take you up on that.” He held out his hand and took hers. “That’s a deal.”
He had to fight the urge to punch the air with delight as he walked over to the kitchen.
…
“Done.” Lucy stretched her arms into the air and rolled her neck in a circle as the last file whizzed its magical way to Sydney by email. Seb had done an amazing job with the photos of Garth, and she’d worked on the best six and tweaked them before sending them off to the boss with the initial copy she’d written. Fingers crossed that Caleb loved it as much as she did. It might soften him up for when she told him she’d be working from six hundred kilometres away.
“I think we’ve got a winner of a campaign coming together here.” She turned to the other side of the desk where Garth had been working behind her, but the chair was empty. She’d been so focused on her work, she hadn’t even heard him refill her coffee mug. Every time she’d picked it up, it had been full and piping hot. She pushed the chair back carefully, aware of scratching the polished timber floor, but the chair slid back without any noise. Like everything else she had seen in his house, it had been well thought out and was of the best quality.
Her breath caught as she looked around the room. Garth was on his back on the burgundy chesterfield beneath the window, one arm flung behind his head. His eyes were closed and his chest rose and fell gently as he breathed. Lucy walked over and stood above him. He was fast asleep. His hair, in need of a trim, curled softly over the neck of his T-shirt. His long, dark lashes rested on his tanned cheeks and his lips were soft and relaxed, and her fingers itched to smooth his hair from his forehead.
A flood of longing gripped Lucy, and warmth fluttered in her lower belly. A shared look between them was all it had taken to get her feeling like that. With Garth lying there, looking so innocent and attractive, a powerful surge of desire rocked through her. When she’d been a teenager, she’d blamed the constant need to touch him on rampant hormones. This time, she knew it was the attraction he held for her, as a man.
He was kind and considerate, thoughtful, and a very giving person. She’d sensed his embarrassment when he’d talked about his work, yet he should be proud of what he’d achieved and of his plans for the future.
Garth Mackenzie was a good man. And one who was going to be very hard to leave behind when she went back to Sydney in just over three months’ time. Lucy yawned and put her hand over her mouth. It wouldn’t be fair to wake him up and expect him to drive her home. She crossed to the kitchen and opened the door quietly, before stepping onto the verandah and pulling her phone out.