‘We met at a nightclub in Surfers Paradise,’ he said.
Okay, so we’re going with the sordid truth.She struggled to keep the dismay from her face.
‘Where many a budding romance starts,’ Floss put in helpfully.
Kenzie swallowed her bite. ‘I’m afraid it wasn’t as interesting as your story,’ she said, looking at Floss and Joe.
‘Everyone’s story is interesting,’ Vera said from her seat near the children.
‘And how long were you and my son together before you … lost track of one another,’ Callum asked.
Why the fuck was he interrogating her?‘Not very long, actually. I thought he was a backpacker on his way home. Turns out, homewasn’tScotland, as I’d thought,’ she said, hoping Ewan had suddenly developed telepathic powers and was picking up on what she was threatening to do to him if he didn’t step in.
‘Then another chance meeting, years later,’ Ewan said. Not unhelpful, but certainly not enough.
‘It was fate,’ Floss said with a happy sigh.
‘The property is very impressive,’ Kenzie said, hoping to steer the conversation away from the direction it had been heading. ‘Ewan took us for a bit of a drive around yesterday.’
‘Built from the ground up,’ Callum told her. ‘When we bought it, it had been run into the ground.’
‘You’ve done an amazing job, making it what it is today, then,’ Kenzie said, and she wasn’t just saying it to feed Callum’s ego as a peace offering. It was a massive venture and she’d been awestruck with the scale of the operation.
‘It’s the biggest station in the district,’ Callum said, leaning back in his chair. ‘The only other industry around here that employs more staff locally are the mines.’
‘How many do you employ?’ she asked.
‘Somewhere around the hundred mark,’ Callum said. ‘Plus seasonal workers,’ he added with a shrug.
It was quite difficult to get her head around the scope of the operation. The sheer size of the property was difficult enough to comprehend, but the number of people it took to run it was also a lot to digest.
The meal continued, with Ewan and Joe talking about the latest vintage, and Floss and Kenzie talking about impossible clients and swapping stories of near-disasters. Vera chimed in occasionally but was mainly happy to watch her grandchildren. Callum, on the other hand, drank and observed the table with disinterest.
‘Dessert,’ Vera announced as Peggy came into the room. ‘Kenzie, you are in for a treat. Peggy’s made her famous apple pie just for you and Poppy.’
The pie looked delicious, as did everything this woman baked, and Kenzie wondered if she was going to fit into any of her clothes in a few more days if she kept eating like this.
Later, Kenzie sat back and groaned. ‘That was the best apple pie I think I’ve ever tasted,’ she told Peggy after coffee was served and everyone had begun drifting from the table.
‘I’m glad you liked it,’ she said.
‘Do you live in?’ she asked, wondering at the hours the woman worked. She was there first thing in the morning and still late at night, cleaning up after meals.
‘Yep, got a cottage just out the back. It used to be the big house kitchen way back when. It’s old as the hills,’ she added. ‘Do you have family out here?’
‘Not anymore. My husband used to work for the Campbells when they first bought the place. We were here with the last owners and they kept us on. Errol was killed in an accident not long after they took over, but I stayed on. I’m part of the furniture now.’ She chuckled.
Kenzie liked the laid-back nature of the woman. Nothing seemed to faze her, and she didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by her employers—speaking her mind and joking with them. Even Callum didn’t seem to bother her. Earlier, she’d heard Peggy giving him a lecture about his boots leaving mud on the floor she’d just mopped, and—even more interestingly—Callum had apologised and looked duly chastised.
With farewells said to Floss and her family, Kenzie herded a tired Poppy upstairs. It had been another exhausting day and she couldn’t wait to climb into her own bed and close her eyes.
Twenty-six
Ewan knocked lightly on the old nursery door. When he heard no response, he quietly opened it and stuck his head inside. He’d been hoping he hadn’t missed the bedtime story—he’d grown fond of the routine over the last few nights—but after being held up by his parents, he feared he was too late.
The soft glow of the bedside lamp bathed the bedroom in a warm yellow light. One small, dark head rested on the pillow next to a larger one. They lay on their sides, facing each other, the smaller body tucked safely in the crook of the other’s arms. His throat tightened. Never had he seen a more perfect picture of mother and daughter. It was the essence of maternal instinct caught and held in time—a mother gently holding her child in sleep, protecting her.
He’d wanted to talk about what had happened tonight. He knew Kenzie had wanted to wait until the right time before theytold Poppy who he really was. He got it. It was a huge deal. It was monumental even for him, and he was a grown-arse adult. He couldn’t begin to imagine how confusing it would be for a little kid, although part of him was relieved the decision had been taken out of their hands. It was like the whole band-aid theory—just rip it off and be done with it.
