He pulled a face. ‘Doesn’t really matter if they mess that room up. I’m not in there a lot.’
‘I must admit I was surprised to find it so tidy. I thought it would be full of your books.’
Gray frowned and his eyes narrowed. ‘Why?’
‘Well, there are hardly any books anywhere else in the house. I thought they’d be in the study, but you obviously keep them somewhere else. I must admit I kept all mine in my bedroom in Chelsea’s flat. I had them double stacked on floor-to-ceiling shelves, piled on the nightstand, on the floor—’
As Holly said this, she realised that Gray’s expression had changed.
Again.
This time, however, she saw a flash of pain in his eyes. Real pain.
What was the matter now? What had she said wrong?
Behind her the kettle came to the boil and she whirled around quickly. Confused, embarrassed, she concentrated very carefully on pouring hot water into mugs.
When she looked back at Gray again, a cool mask had slipped over his face and his blue eyes were almost icy. ‘I never have time for reading,’ he said.
Okay. So here was another subject that was a conversation stopper for this man. First, she’d upset him by asking about his former wife’s preference for Sydney. Then she’d made a light-hearted comment about his marital future and hit a brick wall. Now his taste in books was a taboo topic…
Aware that the evening’s lovely relaxed mood would almost certainly not revive, Holly suggested that she might take her tea through to her room and Gray looked relieved. They exchanged very polite goodnights and parted.
In bed, however, nursing her mug of hot tea, Holly couldn’t help conducting a post-mortem of their conversation. She thought how much she’d enjoyed Gray’s company up until the point when she’d apparently put her foot in it. Gray wasn’t just a sexy dude. She’d seen glimpses of a really nice, friendly guy.
Then she’d spoiled everything. For heaven’s sake, who was she to judge his reading habits? What did she know about the responsibilities involved in caring for a million acre property? Gray couldn’t have been much more than twenty when he’d shouldered that responsibility, and it wasn’t so remarkable that he hadn’t had time to laze about with his nose in a book.
Just the same, it was clear there was more to Gray than met the eye. He might seem to be a straightforward Australian cattleman with a down-to-earth manner but, beneath the simple and sexy blue-jeans-and-riding-boots exterior, he was a complicated puzzle.
Working him out wasn’t part of Holly’s job description. But, if she was to leave Anna and Josh in his care, shouldn’t she try to understand him?
After Holly left, Gray stayed behind in the kitchen, brooding as he stared out through the window at the dark, starless sky.
He’d been steeling himself for Holly’s nosy questions. She was, after all, a teacher but, truth to tell, her question about his books hadn’t bothered him nearly as much as her suggestion about his plans for the future.
Whenever he thought about the rest of his life stretching ahead into his forties, fifties and beyond, his heart felt rimmed with ice. But was he really going to close down his emotions and never look at another woman again? Was it okay if his children never had a stepmother? Weren’t Janet and a nanny enough?
He’d always looked on Chelsea’s arrival in the Outback as a gift from the gods, but he’d wrecked that chance.
Had it been his only chance?
What was he planning for the rest of his life? Would he simply take advantage of casual opportunities? Or would he put himself in the marketplace—like those crazy TV shows—Cattleman wants a Wife.
He hadn’t come to terms with any of these questions yet—and he sure as hell wished Holly hadn’t raised them.
By Friday afternoon, the children were well settled into their new home. The school week had gone really well and now Anna and Josh were out of the school room and playing on the swing. It was a favourite afternoon pastime that came a close second to admiring their growing puppies, which now resembled fat little sausages with lovely seal-smooth coats.
Selections had been made and Josh was the proud pre-owner of the all black male, while Anna had settled on a sweet little blue-speckled female.
From the kitchen Holly could hear the children’s voices drifting through the window, squealing with delight as they pushed the swing higher.
Janet, in the kitchen, was browning chicken pieces at the stove.
‘Let me help you,’ Holly said. ‘Maybe I can chop something?’
Janet tried to shoo her away. ‘Your job’s in the school room, lovey. I don’t expect you to help in here.’
‘But I’d like to.’ Holly was thinking of all the times she’d chopped ingredients for her mom in the pretty blue and yellow farmhouse kitchen at home. For some reason she couldn’t quite explain, this afternoon she was feeling homesick.
She told herself it had nothing to do with the fact that Gray had made himself scarce all week, ever since Monday night’s conversation.
‘Well…’ Janet took a good long look at Holly and apparently made up her mind about something. ‘You could chop carrots and celery if you like. I’m making chicken cacciatore.’ Then she sent Holly an unsettling wink. ‘It’s one of Gray’s favourites.’
Hmm…Gray again…
It was surprising the number of times Janet mentioned her boss to Holly. She’d even tried to suggest that Gray was happier now that Holly had come to Jabiru Creek.
But if Gray was happier, Holly knew it was because his children were here now, and it had nothing to do with her presence. Quite the opposite. Whenever she’d talked to Gray she’d pressed the wrong buttons and upset him. Ever since Monday night he’d been avoiding her and that bothered her more than it should.
Admittedly, a cattleman needed to rise early and to be away from the house, working on his vast property from dawn until dusk. But each night, after Gray indulged in a quick after-dinner romp with his children, he took off for one of the machinery sheds, claiming he had a problem with a broken tractor.
Holly told herself that mending tractors was what men of the Outback did in the evenings instead of reading the paper, or watching TV like their city counterparts. Her father loved to tinker in his sheds, and she mightn’t have minded Gray’s absence so much if she hadn’t been almost certain that he was dodging conversation with her.
Was he worried that she was waiting to pounce on him with more questions?
Now, at the end of a week of tractor-mending, she wished she knew if she’d said something that had really upset him, or if she was making a mountain out of a molehill. Surely her mind could be put to rest after a simple quick chat?
As she chopped carrots, she decided she would head out to that machinery shed this evening and offer Gray some kind of olive branch…
There was no helpful moonlight when Holly cautiously descended the homestead steps at half past eight, after the children were safely tucked in bed. She made her way across the paddock to the shed by the feeble glow of her flashlight.
A shadow rose from the grass beside her and large wings flapped, making her jump. With a hand pressed to her thumping chest, she thought about turning back, then told herself it was probably an owl and that crossing a paddock at Jabiru Creek was no different from playing hide-and-seek in the barns back home with her brothers.
Just the same, it felt like ages before she reached the yellow light shining through the doorway of the tall corrugated iron shed.
The sound