Taming the Outback Read online

  Taming the

  Outback

  Ann B. Harrison

  Breathless Press

  Calgary, Alberta

  www.breathlesspress.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or

  persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Taming the Outback

  Copyright© 2012 Ann B. Harrison

  ISBN: 978-1-77101-807-4

  Cover Artist: Victoria Miller

  Editor: T. S. Chevrestt

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations

  embodied in reviews.

  Breathless Press

  www.breathlesspress.com

  Dedication

  No author gets a book published without walking the hard yards and receiving the help of many great people along the way.

  My heartfelt thanks first and foremost must go to the incredible Annie Seaton. Without her guidance, I would still be floundering and wondering why I was constantly getting rejection after rejection. She did then and still does, guide me in putting my stories together in the correct manner.

  Next, thanks must go to my dear husband, John, who put up with quick, boring dinners, because the stories in my head were calling louder than he was. Thank you for all your support. After thirty-five years, you still have the ability to make my heart flutter. I love you.

  My kids, who let me talk to my characters when I should have been listening and talking to them. You have survived without me; you will again.

  Kerry Doyle, my weatherman in Longreach, Queensland. Thank you for letting me annoy you with all the weather questions; much appreciated.

  To Tara Chevrestt, the first editor game enough to take me on and whip me and my manuscript into shape. Thank you, thank you. It has been amazing to work with you.

  To the people of Charleville. Yes, it is a real place in Queensland, Australia. Forgive me if I have taken liberties with your beautiful town. It was necessary for the story. I hope you still recognize it.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “For once, Josh, can you just do what I ask and get in that office?” Libby pushed her son in front of her and gripping her daughter’s hand, followed him into the lawyer’s office. “It’s not my fault we’re here. You are fifteen, for goodness’ sake, old enough to know what you are doing is wrong. If it takes some lawyer to knock that chip off your shoulder, so be it.”

  She scanned the waiting area. The receptionist lifted her head and smiled a welcome.

  “Libby Holland to see Mr. Thomas.” Libby’s voice was more confident than she felt.

  “Take a seat, Mrs. Holland. Mr. Thomas will be with you shortly.”

  Tightening her grip on her son’s arm, Libby leaned down and spoke quietly, “Tell me, Josh, what you’ve done.”

  “Why do you have to think the worst of me? It’s all you do,” he whined, a sour look marring an otherwise good-looking, young face.

  “Probably because it’s what I’m getting used to with you, doing things that always seem to get you into trouble. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

  “Why is it always about you?”

  “Get a grip. Don’t make this any harder than it has to be. It’s hardly my fault we’re here at some lawyer’s beck and call,” she said, twisting a stray strand of hair back into the knot on her head. The skin on the back of her neck prickled. Looking up, she met the gaze of a tall, dark-haired man behind the receptionist desk. He was glaring at her, his dark eyes cold and his brow creased into a frown. She stared back and wondered if he were the lawyer who would drag her wayward son away from her at the end of the day. She had tried so hard since John had been killed. They all missed him, and Josh was showing it by acting out. Petty theft, destruction of property, cutting school, the list went on. She wandered over to the window and took a chair, nervously pulling at her bottom lip with her teeth.

  “I’ll inform Mr. Thomas of his next appointment. I have to give him these papers,” said the lawyer, giving Libby another cold look as he strode past her down the corridor.

  What is it with that guy? It would be nice if he met me before he decided to act like an ass. Unless he has something to do with Josh’s case, he has no right to be judging me. Libby watched him walk away, kicking herself for noticing how well his butt filled his tailored black trousers, confused about his attitude. She really was at her wit’s end, and she was dreading what the lawyer had to say. The last thing she needed to be doing was fantasizing over the moody guy, but it had been so long since anyone had looked at her, let alone touched her, even a cold look from a hot man had her stomach churning.

  If Josh had done anything that would break up what was left of her family, she would lose it. Five years on one’s own with two emotionally distraught kids was not for the fainthearted.

  “You can go in, Mrs. Holland.” The receptionist waved her hand down the corridor in the direction the good-looking, grumpy guy had gone.

  Libby herded the kids in front of her, trying not to listen to the raised voices coming from the office at the end of the hallway. The door was slightly ajar, and the words echoed in the corridor.

  “It’s not going to work, Aaron. How many times do you have to be told?”

  “Just leave it to me.” A voice soothed over the angry tone. “It will all work out, you’ll see.”

  The door opened, and the space was filled with pure, unadulterated male aggression. The hostile lawyer glared at Libby until her face heated with uncomfortable embarrassment, then brushed past her, leaving her with a hollow, anxious feeling in her stomach. The guy was a total jerk. They didn’t even know each other, yet he appeared to be judging her—and for what...she had no idea.

  “Come in, come in. I’m Aaron Thomas. Please excuse my...um...associate. Bad day,” an elderly gentleman said as he ushered them into his office. He settled Libby in front of his desk and sat the kids at the cluttered sitting nook in the corner by the window. Libby straightened her spine, folded her hands in her lap, and waited for the ax to fall on her family. She had survived so much to come to this point. She wondered if she could survive what else her wayward son had been up to.

  ***

  Twenty minutes later, Libby’s surprised gasp interrupted the droning of the elderly lawyer. “Are you kidding me?” Her voice broke down to a whisper as she took it all in. “One hundred and fifty thousand acres. What am I supposed to do with that?”

  “Farm it and make a profit in the first two years or it goes up for auction. I believe there are quite a few locals who are willing to take it away from you given a chance.” He peered over the top of his wire-framed glasses at her, his eyes twinkling in obvious amusement at her shock.

  “Sell it now, because I don’t want it.” Libby nervously licked her lips as she looked at everything in the room—everything but the man in front of her.

  “I have to advise against walking away from this, Mrs. Holland. May I call you Libby?”

  Libby nodded, the desire to flee from the room barely held in check as the lawyer looked over his glasses at her and then back at the papers in his hand.

  “The value of the land alone is almost three million dollars, and with the value of the stock the place is running—especially if you clean them up and improve the lines already there—you are looking at half of that again. If you walk away, you don’t get any of the proceeds from the farms. It all goes to charity.”

  Libby shook her head and ran her hands over her face. I just can’t ta
ke this in. It’s not real. Me running two farms and at a profit?

  “I don’t know the first thing about farms. I can’t even grow parsley in a pot without killing it, for God’s sake. I have enough trouble dealing with a delinquent fourteen-year-old boy, never mind taking on a cattle farm.” Her throat tightened as the tears welled, and she dropped her head into her hands, embarrassed as her shattered emotions finally became too much for her.

  “Send in a tray of coffee, please, Annette, and a couple of soft drinks.” She heard Aaron pick up the phone and instruct his receptionist.

  “Libby, let me talk frankly.”

  Libby pushed her hair out of her eyes and met his serious gaze.

  Locking his hands together on the old, scarred timber desktop, Aaron spoke to her. “Thaddeus requested some time ago that we check out your background.”

  Her body tensed as she braced herself for whatever accusations would come next. “You could have simply asked me.”

  “I hardly think you would have appreciated those questions. I’m sorry if that offends you, but he felt justified in looking into your background. After all, it’s been rather a long time since any of the family has seen you, Libby, and you are all that’s left of that bloodline. Your mother left the farm when you were three years old, and no one heard from either of you again. You can’t blame an old man for his curiosity, can you?”

  “I guess not,” she agreed. She wiped her hand over her eyes, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she grabbed a tissue from Aaron’s desk and blew her nose. The door to the office opened, and a tray with coffee was deposited on the desk in front of her.

  “Just black for me, thanks,” Libby said when asked, picking up the mug. “So I guess you told him I’m a widow with two unruly kids and a mortgage I can hardly handle on a rundown house in town, and I work in a pub. Does that sound right?”

  “Basically, that about covers it.” Aaron smiled kindly at her. “Unfortunately, Thaddius died before we could arrange for him to meet you, but what I managed to tell him before he passed on was I thought you were the perfect person for the job of running the farms.”

  “You can’t be serious.” Libby scoffed, putting her cup back on the desk in front of her. “I don’t remember any of my time on the farm or what it takes to run the place; I was a baby when my mother left. The only time I have come into contact with animals is the petting area in the Royal Show at Easter. Even then, they are under someone else’s control. Believe me, you have this so wrong, it’s not funny.”

  “Oh, I think I call myself a good judge of character for a reason. You are a hard worker. Thaddius claimed it was in the genes.” Aaron put his papers down and leaned back in his chair. “You never shy from hard work if what I hear about you is true. You have struggled with and achieved, well, I guess a certain amount of success since your husband died. You could have curled up and felt sorry for yourself and let the government look after you and support your children, but you didn’t. Hard work is not something you have shied from, and that says a lot about your character.” He took his glasses off and smiled at her. “That’s the main reason I feel you are the right person for this bequest. There is nothing out there you cannot learn. Trust me on that. Listen to me for a moment, if you will. You need to get your life back on track, and I am a firm believer in kids growing up in the country. I understand the trouble you have been having with your son, and this could be your salvation in more ways than one. More things to keep him out of trouble on a station.” Aaron’s keen gaze flicked over at Josh, who was giving him evil looks, kicking the edge of the coffee table methodically with his foot, while Holly sat deep into her chair, quietly watching her mother.

  Libby picked at imaginary dust on her trousers, choosing to ignore her son and his irritating behavior.

  A tap on the door interrupted their conversation.

  “Sorry, Mr. Thomas, Mr. Miller is on the phone for you.”

  “Thank you, Annette. Ask him to hold, would you?” Aaron inquired, his attention going back to Libby. “Think about it over the weekend, Libby, and get back to me on Monday. You need to move quickly to fulfill the terms of the will, and the sooner you start, the better.”

  ***

  Nathan scowled at his cell phone as he disconnected the call. Aaron had been touting Libby Holland’s attributes for the last few months, ever since Thaddius had contacted Nathan’s uncle to search for the mysterious, missing relative he hadn’t seen since she was a baby. He knew exactly what his uncle had in mind and why he was insisting this city dweller should at least attempt to run the farms. He’s a meddlesome old woman. Nathan grumbled inwardly as he rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, frustrated with the whole thing. Aaron had been trying to set him up with a suitable wife ever since his fiancée had dumped him and run off three years ago when she found the going too tough in the country.

  City folk didn’t realize one couldn’t just hop in the car and pop down to the local shops for everything needed. One either grew it themselves or did a big shop once a month for the basics. Apart from that, country people made do, not something this woman looked like she could deal with, judging by the meltdown she was having with her son over a visit to the office.

  Aaron was constantly ringing him out of the blue and offering him the phone number of some young woman looking for work who would love the country life. Nathan knew Aaron always hoped it was someone Nathan would get on with and eventually marry. If he weren’t pushing him to employ eligible females, he was telling him how much his mother worried about him not settling down and producing the next branch of the family tree.

  Nathan was not interested and had told both his mother and her brother that repeatedly, but to no avail. If a woman wasn’t bred and raised in the country, he told them, they wouldn’t be able to cope. He had learned the hard way and refused to go down that road again.

  Throwing his briefcase onto the front seat of his truck, Nathan jammed his seatbelt on and threaded his way into the busy traffic, hell-bent on getting away from the city as fast as he could. Now that he had put his offer in writing in for the farm and lodged it at the main courthouse—in hopes the frazzled yet attractive woman would renege and fail the conditions—he wanted to be out of the city as fast as he could.

  He knew the next few months or however long it took to talk her into going back to the city would be hard on him. The whole love trap was taking its toll. The constant prying and prodding from his well-meaning mother and uncle were making him snappy and nasty, a state he hated to be in, but he was having a hard time pulling himself out of his present foul mood. One more female is almost more than I can stand. He gunned the truck through the busy streets, his movements jerky—a result of the pent-up anger within him. Especially one that seems borderline mad-mother material.

  ***

  Libby left the lawyer’s office with the kids in tow. Her legs were shaking as she exited the lift, and she stopped in the foyer to get her breath back before walking out of the building. Mechanically, she went through the motions of dropping her children off at school and headed for work.

  Her shift had already started, but Pete, her manager, was pretty lenient with her. “Everything all right, Lib?” he asked as she dropped her bag in the office and tied on her bar apron.

  “Yeah, just fine. Sorry I’m late; got held up in traffic downtown.”

  “Sure, no problem,” Pete replied and let her get to work.

  Libby loaded the trays of dirty glasses into the dishwasher and poured drinks for the lunchtime customers while her mind churned over the morning’s visit. This was the life she knew, tending the bar and raising her kids the best way she could. What the lawyer was suggesting was a massive step she wasn’t sure she wanted to take.

  When she drove into her street after work that night, Josh was out on the footpath with a couple of his older mates. Libby had told him they were not welcome around the house since his stint in front of the judge for shoplifting. They yelled out to each other as
she pulled into her drive and scattered before she could get out of the car. Josh stood on the path and glared at her.

  “Josh, inside now,” she commanded as she stormed up the stairs to the door. She walked in, dropped her bag on the hall table, and yelled for Holly to come out of her room.

  Libby flicked the switch on the kettle for a coffee and put the roast chicken she had grabbed on the way home in the oven on low to keep warm. Josh dragged the chair from the table across the floor before he slouched down on it, giving her the death look he was getting so good at.

  “You can cut the tough guy act now, Josh,” Libby said. “I am in no mood for this tonight. Holly, come on. We need to talk.”

  “What’s going on?” Josh asked.

  Libby looked at him. Her gaze took in the scruffy jeans riding low on his hips with his boxers showing as was the trend. His cap was on his long blond hair backward, and his mouth was in a straight line as he tried to look bored with what was up for discussion. His big, blue eyes were wary at the same time. Shifty is what she normally called them. It broke her heart that her sensitive, beautiful boy was turning into an unruly teenager who seemed to hate to be anywhere near her. She wondered if it was too late for her to expect an attitude change out of him.

  Holly came into the kitchen, dragging her feet as she looked at her mother. She had the saddest eyes Libby had seen on a six-year-old. They were big and blue like her brother’s, but where his were sullen, Holly’s were old and sad as if she had seen too much and been here too long. The death of her father had been the end of the happy little girl Libby adored.

  “Come here, baby.” Libby reached for her daughter and gave her a quick hug before the child pulled away and sat at the table.

  Am I going to lose her too? Both of my kids have deserted me. Life as a widow sucked, but she was sick of telling herself to deal with it. She could feel herself unraveling thread by thread. Will I be able to save my family before I hit rock bottom? Maybe the visit to the lawyer’s was the opportunity they needed to regroup. But who was she kidding? Farmers, right? She outlined her plans to the kids and waited for the explosion she knew her decision would bring.