She was beautiful. There was a really big part of him that wanted to head into the shallows-with or without shoes-and tug her to him and hold.

How selfish would that be?

She wasn’t like any woman he’d dated. He’d selected her with care as his Australian PA and that was what she was qualified to be. She was smart, efficient, unflappable. Loyal, honest, discreet. Sassy, funny, emotional.

Trusting and beautiful.

He didn’t have a clue what to do with all these things. He moved in circles where women knew boundaries; indeed, they wanted them. He was an accessory, a guy with looks and money who was good for their image. No one had ever clung.

Meg wasn’t clinging. The opposite-she was walking away.

That was good. She knew the boundaries. She knew they’d overstepped them so she was protecting herself. She had the right.

And if he stepped over the boundaries after her, like walking into the water now and taking her hand, pretending they could just be a normal couple, boy and girl…

He didn’t do boy and girl. He had to leave; he knew no other way of living.

Do not depend on anyone.

He could depend on Meg.

No. She’d resigned. The thought hurt. He tried to drum up anger but it wasn’t there. All that was left was a sense of emptiness, as if he’d missed out on something other people had. How to change? If he tried… If he hurt her…

He walked faster, striding along the hard sand, trying to drive away demons. He stopped and looked back, and Meg was a red and white splash of colour in the shallows, far behind.

In a day or two she’d be further away. She’d get some sort of hick job and be stuck here, milking her cows. Taking care of Letty and Scott.

It was her choice.

He picked up a heap of seaweed and hurled it out into the shallows, as if it’d personally done him injury. That was what this felt like, but he couldn’t fault Meg. She was protecting herself, as he protected his own barriers.

She had the right.

He’d choose another PA and move on.

But first…he had to get Christmas over. Bring on Santa Claus, he thought grimly, followed by a plane out of here.

And then they’d all live happily ever after?

CHAPTER NINE

IT WAS a subdued trio who returned home. Letty was stretched out on the back seat, dozing. The doctors had been inclined to keep her; she’d woken enough to be stubborn but she was sleeping now.

Meg sat in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead. As if she was enduring something that had to be endured.

He’d made a few desultory attempts at conversation but had given up. So much for his smart, sassy PA. Now she was just…Meg. Someone he once knew?

Just concentrate on driving, he told himself. When he got back to the farm he’d move onto evening milking. The phone line was working again so after milking he could use the Internet; keep himself busy.

‘By the way, I’ve organised your satellite connection,’ he said and Meg cast him a glance that was almost scared.

‘You what?’

‘While you were dress shopping. It only took me minutes to buy what I needed, and the Internet place was open for business. It seems satellite dishes make great Christmas gifts. Even I couldn’t get them to erect it today, but first working day after Christmas it’ll be here.’

‘I can’t afford…’

‘It’s paid for. Three years in advance.’

‘No, thank you,’ she said in a tight, clipped voice. ‘Three dresses are enough.’

But… ‘Are you out of your mind?’ Letty was suddenly awake, piping up from the back seat in indignation. ‘Meg, what sort of gift horse are you looking in the mouth here? Scotty will love it. You know there’ll be times still when he’s stuck at home in pain. You can’t say no to that.’

‘Letty, I’m no longer working for Mr McMaster,’ Meg said. ‘So I can’t take expensive gifts.’

‘You’re not working for him?’

‘She’s resigned. Tell her she’s daft,’ William said.

‘No,’ Letty said, surprisingly strongly. ‘My Meg’s not daft. If she’s quit there’s a good and sensible reason. But a satellite connection…that’d be a gift to Scotty and me, not to Meg, wouldn’t it, Mr McMaster?’

‘William,’ he said and he almost snapped.

‘William,’ Letty said. ‘Scott’s friend. My friend. Meg, dear, William has more money than he knows what to do with, and he’s just given us a very fine Christmas gift in return for a bed for Christmas. And…’ She hesitated, but she was a wise old bird, was Letty. ‘And you don’t want anything in return, do you, Mr McMaster?’

‘William!’

‘William,’ Letty said obediently. ‘But you’re not buying Meg with this. She doesn’t owe you anything, right?’

‘Right,’ he said and glanced across at Meg. Her face was drawn, almost as if she was in pain.

He hated that look. He didn’t know what to do about it.

‘Then I accept on Scotty’s behalf,’ Letty said across his thoughts. ‘And your bed for Christmas is assured.’


When they’d left the farm it had been almost deserted. When they turned back into the driveway there were more than a dozen vehicles parked under the row of gums out front.

‘Uh-oh,’ Letty said, peering dubiously out of the window. ‘This looks like a funeral.’

‘If it hadn’t been for William, it would have been,’ Meg said, and once again William thought she sounded strained to breaking point. ‘If Scott’s done something else stupid…’

But it seemed he hadn’t. When they pulled up, women emerged from the house, men appeared from the yard, kids appeared from everywhere.

‘They called a working bee,’ Scott said, limping across to the car on his crutches and tugging open the back door to make sure for himself that his grandmother was in one piece. ‘They said you had enough on your plate, Meg. And they knew you’d left the hay till after Christmas, so they brought slashers and they’ve done three whole paddocks. They’re bringing in the last of it now.’

‘You’re kidding,’ Meg whispered, but she was staring across to a hay shed which had stood almost empty this morning and now looked three-quarters full. ‘In what-four hours?’

‘We can work when we want to.’ It was Jenny, coming forward to give her friend a hug. ‘We were thinking we’d help after Christmas but when this happened I said to Ian, why not now?’ She cast a curious glance at William. ‘She needs looking after, our Meg.’

‘I do not,’ Meg said, revolted.

‘She doesn’t,’ Scott said and Jenny grinned and hugged him as well until he turned scarlet in embarrassment.

‘Okay, she doesn’t. As long as you and Letty stop doing darn fool things when she’s not around,’ Jenny retorted.

‘I’m going to be around,’ Meg said. ‘I’ll try and find a job locally. I… I don’t want to be away any more. But for now…thank you all so, so much. I’m incredibly grateful. But I need to get Letty inside. She needs to sleep.’

‘I’ll carry her,’ William said but one of the neighbours stepped forward and lifted Letty from the car before he could.

‘We’re local,’ he said to William, quite kindly, but firmly for all that. ‘We look after our own. Cows are on their way up now, Meg. You want some help with tonight’s milking?’

‘You’ve done enough,’ Meg said.

‘This guy’ll help?’ It seemed everyone was looking at William.

‘He’s promised to.’

‘Is he any good?’

‘At milking? He has untapped potential,’ Meg said and people laughed and gathered their kids and said their goodbyes and left.

Meg tucked Letty into bed and fussed over her. Scott limped over to the cow yard and William followed.

‘We should start,’ Scott said.

William looked at the brace on Scott’s leg and said gently, ‘Is that okay? That you help with milking?’

‘It has to be. I’m tired of waiting for it to heal.’

‘So it’s not okay.’

‘Meg and Grandma fuss that if my leg gets kicked we have to start over again. But I’ll be careful.’

‘Or not. How about you supervise while I do the hands on?’ William eyed the mass of cows pressing against the yard gate. He eyed the waiting bales. Nothing to this. Except…Maybe you had to do stuff to the vat for pasteurisation or…or something. He didn’t want to waste a whole milking. ‘Do you know how this works?’

‘Course.’

‘Then you give me instructions and leave me to it.’

‘I can help.’ Scott squared his shoulders. ‘I know I was dumb trying to put that Santa up. I never dreamed Grandma’d try and fix it. But I’m not completely helpless. This leg’ll soon be better. I can look after them.’

William looked into his drawn face. He saw reflected horror from this morning’s accident. He saw the unmistakable traces of years of pain and he saw tension, worry, the pain of being a kid without a dad, an adolescent trying desperately to be an adult.

‘I know you can,’ he said softly. ‘If you must. But I’m at a loose end right now, and it seems everything else is taken care of. So you sit on the fence and tell me your plans for your car restoration and in between plans you can tell me how to turn this milking machine on and let these girls get rid of their load.’


Scotty must be exhausted. Meg arrived at the dairy, back in her milking gear, and one glance at her little brother told her he was close to the edge. Physically, he was still frail. This morning would have terrified him and, with all the neighbours here helping, his pride wouldn’t have let him stop.

She wanted to grab him down from the fence, hug him and haul him off to bed. But he was talking to William, who appeared to be underneath a cow, and she knew that pride still played a part here.

‘So you two reckon you can run this place without me?’ she enquired and William emerged from behind the cow and grinned.

‘Nothing to this milking game. I’m about to add Milker to my CV.’