Christmas at Candlebark Farm (10 page)

‘I'm sorry.'

He shrugged and stared down at his hands. ‘Not long after that she was diagnosed with the tumour. She refused to let me move back in to help her.'

She glanced at him, and her heart burner harder and fiercer. ‘Her parents blamed you for that?' she whispered.

‘After she died they started all sorts of dreadful rumours. My parents couldn't bear the speculation whenever they went into town—the snubs and the looks—so they moved to the coast.'

And left Luke to cope on his own! No wonder he'd buried himself out here and thrown himself into farm work.

She had to swallow down a sudden lump. ‘Have you told Jason what you just told me?'

‘A lot of it.'

‘And is he…?' What was the word Jason used? ‘Sweet about it?'

He surveyed her for a long moment. ‘It really matters to you, doesn't it?'

She shrugged a bit self-consciously. ‘I guess it does. Crazy, huh? I've only known you guys for all of five minutes.'

He stared out at the river, lips pursed. ‘It doesn't feel crazy,' he admitted.

‘Must be all those irrational conversations we've been holding in the wee small hours,' she teased.

‘That must be it.'

He grinned, and Keira suddenly remembered that the sun
was shining, it was nearly Christmas, and she was having a baby. And, from the look in Luke's eyes, the future looked bright for more than just her.

‘Yeah, Jason and I are good. That's thanks in large part to you.'

‘I didn't really do much.'

‘You opened my eyes. I will always be
grateful
for that.'

She smiled at the emphasis. His approbation felt good—better than it had any right to—but she allowed herself the luxury of basking in it anyway. Because in two days she'd be leaving this place. In the long term she suspected this man could prove a challenge to all her carefully laid plans…not to mention her peace of mind. He could lay it all to waste. She also knew that two days was not enough time to create that kind of havoc inside her.

The thought of leaving, though, darkened her day for a moment. She shrugged it off. She had a wonderful future to look forward to. That was what she had to focus on.

‘Have you sorted everything out with the house?'

Another shaft of sadness pierced her. ‘I've signed the last of the paperwork and found myself another estate agent. My great-aunt's house will officially go on the market next week.'

‘Congratulations.'

‘Thank you.' She fought to find a smile. She should be smiling! She'd done what she'd come here to do. It was just…She didn't know why, but it somehow seemed wrong to sell her great-aunt's house.

‘You don't seem all that happy about it.'

She should have known he'd sense her disquiet. ‘I feel a bit guilty about selling it,' she confessed. ‘Like I'm returning a gift someone has given me.'

‘You know…' He pursed his lips. ‘Something struck me when we inspected it the other day. With just a little bit of work your aunt's house would make the perfect home business.
You could extend out the back and convert the front into that clinic of yours.'

Keira's mind instantly shot off in a million different directions. ‘Are you suggesting that I move here? That I set my clinic up in Gunnedah?'

He shrugged, and sent her the kind of grin that had her pulse tripping over itself. ‘Why not?'

‘But…I don't know anyone here.'

‘You know me and Jason. It wouldn't take you long to make friends. Country towns have a community spirit I think you'd like. Believe me, you wouldn't lack for eager babysitters.' He stretched his legs out in front of him and gestured with one arm. ‘And look at all this. It's a great place to grow up.'

He loved his home. That much she could tell. When he'd outlined his plans for the farm on their drive down here she'd started to see the place through his eyes. It had given her a whole new appreciation for it. ‘But to move out here…' Her heart raced.

‘Medical practitioners of all kinds are in demand in rural areas like this. It's hard to lure people from the city. You wouldn't have any trouble establishing yourself.'

‘I…' She tried to shake herself out from under the spell he was weaving about her.

He sent her another one of those grins. ‘It's just a thought. But it's worth thinking about, isn't it?'

‘I…yes.' She drew the word out slowly. ‘I guess it is.'

She'd have to sit down with a pen and a pad later, and work out the pros and cons. She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. She could always rent out her flat in the city. That would provide her with a steady source of income and—

Later,
she told herself firmly. This wasn't the kind of decision she could make on the spur of the moment. It needed careful consideration.

She glanced at Luke, and warmth curled in the pit of her stomach. She did her best to banish it. This wasn't the kind
of decision where she'd allow her feelings for a man to sway her—no matter how broad his shoulders or devastating his smile. This came down to a straight business decision and whether this kind of life would be better for her and her Munchkin.

Still, it would be nice to have Luke as a friend.

‘If need be, would you rent your room to me for another week some time in January?' Just in case this idea warranted further investigation.

‘Of course.'

Excitement billowed through her—a sense of new possibilities opening up before her. She reached for a nectarine and bit into it. Juice promptly ran down her chin. She wiped it away with a laugh. ‘Stone fruit is one of my favourite things about this time of year.'

‘What are the others?'

‘Christmas carols.' He rolled his eyes so she added, ‘Not the jingly-jangly ones—though I quite like them too. I'm talking about the slow ones. You know—“Silent Night”, “The First Noel”, “The Little Drummer Boy”… They're beautiful songs, and they do what all good music should do.'

‘Which is?'

‘They make you feel…fuller.'

He didn't roll his eyes. He didn't say anything.

Keira bit into her nectarine again, tried to catch the juice that ran down her hand. She held the fruit away from her body. ‘I'm going to need a bath after I've finished this.' Even so, she couldn't remember the last time she'd enjoyed a piece of fruit so much.

She went to take another bite, but made the mistake of glancing up at Luke first. His eyes had darkened, and he stared at her mouth with such fascination it made things inside her heat up then melt down. She gulped and tried to remember the friends thing. And that this was a
rational
time of day. Dear Lord, what had they been talking about?

Um… Uh… Christmas!

‘You should really do something special for Jason for Christmas, you know. All kids need Christmas—even teenagers.' Instinct told her Luke needed it too. ‘There's a magic to Christmas you can't get at any other time of year.' He didn't reply, so she stared doggedly out at the water. From the corner of her eye she could discern his gaze, hot and fierce on her face. If he didn't stop that soon she'd have to dive fully clothed into the river before she burned up.

She recognised the precise moment his gaze shifted to her legs. It was as if he'd reached out and stroked her with one lean, tanned finger. A quiver ran through her. Her breathing sped up. So did his. Her nerves drew tauter, tighter, until she thought they'd catapult her into something she'd regret.

It would be something Luke would definitely regret.

‘Stop looking at me like that!'

She didn't want to be anybody's regret. Especially not at this time of the year. 'Tis the season and all that. She had a lot to be grateful for: that was what she wanted to focus her energies on. Not on a pair of firm lips and a strong, square jaw, or the way tawny eyes could darken to chocolate.

Luke leapt to his feet with a cut off imprecation. ‘Why don't you wash in the river? I'll go grab a towel from the car.'

He stomped up the bank in the direction of the car. Keira fled to the river. Even if men weren't off her agenda, Luke was the last man she'd ever get involved with. He didn't want any more children, for a start.

With hands that shook, she did her best to wash the sticky remains of nectarine from her fingers and face. Because she couldn't stay in the river all day, and because she wanted to project an air of nonchalance for when Luke returned, she moved back to where they'd been sitting and propped herself against a rock. She started to unroll the legs of her shorts—

And froze.

A snake stared at her from the bottom of the track that Luke
had just ascended. Its black eye—unlidded—didn't reflect the light. It lifted its head, and its forked tongue tasted the air. Oh, help!

Keira stayed frozen. She might be a city girl, but she knew a brown snake when she saw one.

Brown snakes were bad.

Adrenaline shot through her in icy waves. Could the snake sense it?
The bad brown snake.
No—
no,
some logical part of her brain tried to reason. Snakes weren't bad. They were just one of Nature's vast array of creatures.

Yeah, and the venom from the bite of a brown snake could fell a grown man in—

‘Keira?'

Luke's low tones. She could sense him at the top of the track.

‘Keira, look at me.'

No way was she taking her eyes off that snake. If it made so much as the smallest move towards her, she was out of here.

‘Keira, I can see the snake. Please…look at me.'

Something in his voice snagged at her. Almost against her will she lifted her gaze. He was too far away for her to pinpoint the exact shade of brown of his eyes, but she couldn't mistake the intensity in his face.

‘Keira, you're doing great—you really are. I need you to keep doing more of the same.'

He wanted her to stay here?

‘Any sudden movements will frighten it.'

She gulped.

‘I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you, okay?'

She swallowed. ‘Okay,' she mouthed back, because her vocal cords refused to work. The constriction around her lungs eased a fraction.

‘You're between the snake and the river. He wants to go down for a drink.'

How did he know that? Had he and the snake exchanged
pleasantries as they'd passed on the path? She couldn't help it. She slipped a hand over her abdomen.

His eyes narrowed. ‘I am not going to let anything bad happen to your baby either!'

He spoke so fiercely tears stung her eyes—those darn pregnancy hormones—but she believed him. He was like some old-fashioned hero from a book or a movie. He knew how to take care of his own.

Not that she was
his
, of course.

But she did trust him—with her life. And her baby's.

‘In a moment I'm going to start drumming the ground with my feet. The snake will want to avoid something that sounds as big as me, so it's going to shoot off down to the river and probably all the way across it.'

It was going to slither right by her?

‘I want you to stay as still as a statue.'

She pulled in a breath. Finally she nodded. When Luke looked at her like that she had a feeling she could do just about anything. She closed her eyes. It would be easier to focus on staying still if she didn't catch sight of that snake again.

She heard Luke's thumping—she would have had to be deaf not to. She didn't hear the snake at all. She tried to empty her mind of all thought and concentrate on keeping her body as still as possible.

‘Keira?'

Her name was a mere whisper on the air, and so close she had to open her eyes. Were they safe? Had the snake gone away? Had Luke been bitten?

Before she could utter a single one of her questions Luke scooped her up in his arms and strode up the bank towards the car. She couldn't help it. She started shaking as if she were cold and couldn't get warm. All that pent up adrenaline, some rational part of her reasoned.

‘Did you get bitten?' she finally managed to get out from between chattering teeth

‘No.'

‘Me neither,' she said, which was a ridiculous thing to say, because he'd have seen it if the snake had struck her.

Luke opened the passenger door and slid onto the seat with her on his lap. She continued to shake. ‘Sorry,' she mumbled, ‘I can't seem to help it. What a wimp, huh?'

His arms tightened about her. ‘You weren't a wimp. You were wonderfully brave.'

Keira closed her eyes and gave herself up to the comfort of being in his arms. She rested her cheek against his shoulder and drew in all the strength and reassurance she needed.

 

Luke's heartbeat didn't slow until Keira's shaking started to ease. He found he still couldn't loosen his arms from around her yet.

He bit back something rude and succinct. When he'd first seen that snake, and registered the fear on Keira's face, an anger so fierce and scalding had gripped him it had almost left no room for reason.

He'd remembered himself just in time.

Tell me three things you're grateful for.

Keira was alive and safe in his arms. He was grateful for that.

Snakes might be a protected species in Australia, but if it had bitten her he'd have torn it apart with his bare hands.

She adjusted herself in his arms, sat up a little. He reluctantly loosened his hold, but didn't let her go.

He'd let her go in a moment, he told himself. When he was one hundred percent sure she was okay.

Her eyes met his. ‘Thank you for rescuing me.' Her hand inched across her stomach. ‘For rescuing us. I didn't have a clue what to do.'

‘You did great.' She had too. She'd wanted to run, he'd read that in her face, but she'd conquered her fear and followed his instructions.