He nodded. He’d specifically requested that she accompany him.
‘Would you like that tour now or do you have more business calls to make?’
She glanced at the cell phone he held. He stowed it away. Before he’d heard what he had at Bruce Augustus’s pen, he’d thought he had her pegged—a no-nonsense, competent country girl.
When am I going to be allowed to follow my dreams?
Other than a desire to see the world, what were her dreams?
He shook off the thought. Her dreams were none of his concern. All he wanted was to reconcile her to the contract she’d just signed. Once that was done she’d be a model employee. A problem solved. Then he could move forward with his plans for the place.
‘Now would be good if that suits you. I’d like to get changed first, though.’
She directed him to a spare bedroom, where he pulled on jeans, a T-shirt and riding boots.
When he returned, Addie glanced around and then her jaw dropped.
He frowned. ‘What?’
‘I just...’ She reddened. She dragged her gaze away. It returned a few seconds later. ‘I know you have a station in Channel country and all, but...heck, Flynn. Now you look like someone who could put in an honest day’s work.’
He stiffened. ‘You don’t believe honest work can be achieved in a suit?’
‘Sure it can.’ She didn’t sound convinced. ‘Just not the kind of work we do around here.’
Before he could quiz her further she led him out of the front door. ‘As you probably recall from the deeds to the properties, the Seymour farm extends from the boundary fence to the right of Lorna Lee’s while Frank and Jeannie’s extends in a wedge shape behind.’
He nodded. The individual farms shared an access road from the highway that led into the township of Mudgee, which was roughly twenty minutes away. There was another property to the eastern boundary of Lorna Lee’s. If it ever came onto the market he’d snap it up as well. But, at the moment, all up, he’d just acquired seven hundred acres of prime beef country.
‘The three individual farmhouses are of a similar size. I expect you’d like one of them as your home base if you mean to spend a lot of time here. Which one should I organise for you?’
He blinked. At the moment she was certainly no-nonsense and practical. ‘I want you to remain at the homestead here. You’re familiar with it and it’ll only create an unnecessary distraction to move you from it. I’ll base myself at the Marsh place.’ Frank and Jeannie’s. It was closer to Lorna Lee’s than the Seymour homestead. ‘Next year I’ll hire a foreman and a housekeeper—a husband and wife team ideally, so keep your ear to the ground. They can have the Seymour house. There are workers’ quarters if the need arises.’
* * *
He didn’t want her to move out of her family home? Addie couldn’t have said why, but a knot of tension eased out of her.
They talked business as they made their way over to the massive machinery shed. There’d been an itemised account of all farm equipment attached to the contract, but she went over it all again.
Because he wanted her to.
Because he was now her boss.
And because he’d held the promise of Munich out to her like a treasure of epic proportions and it shimmered in her mind like a mirage.
She glanced at his boots. ‘Were you hoping to ride around the property?’
‘I’d appreciate it if that could be arranged.’
‘Saddle up Banjo and Blossom,’ she told Logan, her lone farmhand. Correction. Flynn’s farmhand. She swung to him, hands on hips. ‘You’re wearing riding boots and you own a cattle station. I’m assuming you know your way around a horse.’
The man finally smiled. She’d started to think he didn’t know how, that he was a machine—all cold, clinical efficiency.
‘You assume right.’
For no reason at all her heart started thundering in her chest. She had to swallow before she could speak. ‘I gave you a comprehensive tour of Lorna Lee’s two weeks ago and I know both Frank and Eric did the same at their places. You and your people went over it all with a fine-tooth comb.’ What was he actually hoping she’d show him?
‘We studied points of interest—dams, fences, sheds and equipment, irrigation systems—but nothing beats getting to know the layout of the land like riding it.’
Question answered.
She rubbed the nape of her neck and tried to get her breathing back under control. It was probably the release of tension from having finally signed, but Flynn looked different in jeans and boots. He looked... She rolled her shoulders. Hot. As in adventure hot.
She shook her head. Crazy thought. Who cared what he looked like? She just wanted him to look after the farm, develop it to its full potential, while hoping he wasn’t an absolute tyrant to work for. All of those things trumped hot any day.
Logan brought out the steeds and Flynn moved to take the reins from him. She selected an Akubra from a peg—an old one of her father’s that had her swallowing back a lump—and handed it to him, before slapping her own hat to her head. The afternoon had lengthened but the sun would still be warm.
She glanced at the two horses. She’d been going to take Blossom, but... She glanced back at Flynn.
He gazed back steadily. ‘What?’
‘What are you in the mood for? An easy, relaxed ride or—’ she grinned ‘—something more challenging?’
‘Addie, something you ought to know about me from the get go is that I’ll always choose challenging.’
Right. ‘Then Blossom is all yours.’ She indicated the grey. ‘I’ll take Banjo.’
‘Leg up?’ he offered.
If it’d been Logan, she’d have accepted. If Flynn had been in his business suit she’d have probably accepted—just to test him. But the large maleness of him as he moved in closer, all of the muscled strength clearly outlined in jeans and T-shirt, had her baulking. ‘No, thank you.’
She slipped her foot into the stirrup and swung herself up into the saddle. Before she could be snarky and ask if he’d like a leg up, he’d done the same. Effortlessly. The big grey danced but Flynn handled him with ease. Perfectly.
She bit back a sigh. She suspected Flynn was one of those people who did everything perfectly.
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Pass muster?’
‘You’ll do,’ she muttered, turning her horse and hoping the movement hid the flare of colour that heated her cheeks.
She led the way out of the home paddock and then finally looked at him again. ‘What in particular would you like to see?’ Was there a particular herd he wanted to look over, a particular stretch of watercourse or a landscape feature?
‘To be perfectly frank, Addie, there’s nothing in particular I want to see. I just want to be out amongst it.’
He was tired of being cooped up. That she could deal with. She pointed. ‘See that stand of ironbarks on the low hill over there?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘Wait for me there.’
He frowned. ‘Wait?’
She