Scandalous Secrets. Michelle Douglas

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СКАЧАТЬ started again, this time trusting herself so little that she made a list of ingredients that were usually in her head and ticked them as she put them in.

      But how could she think of ingredients?

      Matt had kissed her. Twice. Matt wanted her to stay.

      And she understood him. From that first day when she’d seen him on his gorgeous black horse she’d thought of him as a man in charge of his world, and little had happened to change that. The shearers looked up to him and it wasn’t because he owned the place. She’d learned enough of human nature now to know bosses earned respect; they didn’t buy it.

      So Matt was a man of strength, intelligence and honour, but she’d just been allowed a glimpse of the building blocks that had made him. It felt like an enormous privilege.

      She put both her hands in the bowl and started mixing. The feel of the cookie dough under her hands was a comfort. It was a task she’d loved doing for years.

      The family cook had taught her to do this. Her parents hadn’t been around much but they’d been in the background.

      Who’d baked choc chip cookies for Matt?

      No one. She knew it as surely as she knew what he’d told her was scarcely the tip of the iceberg that was the nightmare of his childhood.

      ‘Bless you, Sam,’ she told the old farmer who’d finally taken the young Matt under his wing. ‘I wish I could make you choc chip cookies.’

      And suddenly her eyes filled with tears. Why? It hardly made sense. She sniffed and told herself she was a dope but the tears kept coming.

      ‘So we’re adding a little salty water into the mix,’ she said out loud. ‘My secret ingredient.’

      Two weeks to cure a lifetime of hurt?

      That wasn’t the way it worked. Matt didn’t see himself as someone who needed curing, and she was hardly qualified to help.

      ‘But he might kiss me again...’

      The tears disappeared. Hope was suddenly all around her, a bright, perky little voice that bounced with delight. Enough with the past. She had freezers to fill.

      And demons to scatter?

      ‘I hope he likes choc chip cookies,’ she told the sleeping Samson. ‘Because I’m about to fill his freezers with a ton.’

      * * *

      He’d hired her for two more weeks. He’d told her his past.

      Was he nuts?

      He checked the pens and then walked down the paddocks to check the newly shorn sheep. The weather was brilliant, as it had been for the whole shear. The starkly white sheep didn’t even appear to notice that they’d lost their coats. They were relaxed, hardly edging away as he walked the boundaries of the holding paddocks. There were no problems with the flock that he could see. No problems on the horizon either.

      He opened the gates of the house paddocks to the pastures beyond. To all intents and purposes, the sheep were free.

      Like he intended to be.

      Freedom. That was what he’d craved when he’d somehow hauled himself together after Darrilyn walked out. His mother had moved from one hysterical mess to another. He’d spent his childhood dealing with her tears, her drama, her hopelessness, and his one foray into marriage had been more of the same.

      Freedom had looked good. This place was his solace, his refuge, his love.

      But now? Not only had he just opened himself up to Penny, exposing pain he’d never thought he’d reveal, but he’d pushed her to stay for two weeks.

      And a question was starting to niggle.

      Did he have the courage to try again? With a pink princess with a past almost as troubled as his?

      He walked on. In the distance he could still see the house. The lights were on at the south end, which meant the kitchen was still in use. Penny would be cooking.

      He could go and join her. He could sit at the kitchen table and watch her hands create food to die for. He could watch the flour accumulate on her nose—she always seemed to have flour on her nose.

      Maybe he could offer to help—he could wash while she wiped.

      There was a romantic thought.

      He stopped and closed his eyes. The silence was almost absolute. Even the owls were silent and he thought suddenly: It’s as if something momentous is about to happen.

      Momentous? Like Matt Fraser breaks his own rule and lets his guard down with a woman?

      How insulting was that? he thought, and swore silently to himself. What was he expecting, that Penny jump him? That he’d have to fight her off?

      It was a dumb thought, but it had its merits. He found himself smiling as he walked on. He wouldn’t mind.

      He wouldn’t fight her off.

      ‘I won’t hurt her.’ There was another thought, almost a vow.

      How serious was he getting, and how fast?

      ‘Not serious at all,’ he told himself as he finally turned for home. Surely she’d finished cooking by now? The house would be in darkness and he could slip in without seeing her.

      Was that what he wanted? To avoid her for two weeks?

      ‘You know it’s not or you wouldn’t have invited her,’ he told himself and he found himself wishing his dogs were with him. His own company wasn’t cutting it. But the dogs were exhausted after a full day in the yards.

      So was he. He needed to go to sleep and stop worrying about what lay ahead.

      And stop fancying what else might happen.

      * * *

      ‘When are you coming home?’

      Penny’s mother hadn’t phoned her for two weeks. When she didn’t phone, Penny knew she was in trouble. Depression dogged her mother, and silence was a symptom. But Louise’s silence while Brett and Felicity outlined their marriage plans had made Penny decide enough was enough.

      Penny’s father was a bully and her half-sister was a self-serving shrew, but Louise didn’t have the courage to stand up to either of them.

      Tonight her mother’s voice sounded thick with tears. Penny was willing herself not to care.

      It didn’t work. How could she stop caring?

      ‘I told you, Mum, I’m working out here. It doesn’t matter when I get home.’

      ‘Where exactly are you working?’

      ‘South Australia. Murray River country. I’m working as a cook, Mum. I’m safe, I’m doing a good job and I’m keeping...’ She paused, but why not say it like it was? ‘I’m keeping myself occupied СКАЧАТЬ