Mctavish And Twins

For heaven’s sake, get a hold on yourself, Erin told herself harshly. Somehow she forced herself to move, jumping down from the truck and moving swiftly round so she was between children and both uncle and aunt.

‘Mr McTavish,’ she said softly, ignoring the horrible Caroline completely and holding out her hand.

Mike stopped five feet from Erin. He stared, his dark eyes taking in Erin from the tip of her stable-mired boots to her roughly tied back mass of chestnut curls.

‘I don’t think I know you,’ he said slowly.

I’m not sure I want to, his gaze seemed to imply, and Erin flushed. He showed not the least sign of recognition, and that in itself hurt. She could cope with Caroline’s nasty tongue more easily than this man’s frank uninterest.

She caught herself, fighting down a mounting blush. Mike McTavish’s gaze had moved past her to the children in the truck. Ignoring Erin’s extended hand, he took a step forward. But Erin would have none of it. Her body blocked his path.

‘Mr McTavish, I’m Erin O’Connell...’

Mike’s attention was no longer on Erin at all. It was all on the children.

‘Laura...Matt...are you okay? You’re not hurt?’ His voice was hoarse with worry.

And in that moment Erin forgave Mike McTavish for not recognizing her. There was sheer, raw anxiety in the farmer’s desperate question, and she realized he’d ignored her solely from concern for the twins.

Neither child answered. Mike was looking straight past Erin, practically pressing against her, and it took all Erin’s resolve to continue blocking his path.

‘They’re fine,’ Erin told Mike quickly, glancing back at the children’s white little faces. Her body was hard against the open passenger door and Mike McTavish was so darned close... ‘They’re just tired, stressed and—and very, very unhappy.’

Mike’s gaze carefully studied both children, searching their faces himself for assurance that what Erin had said was true.

Finally he looked back down to Erin, his extra height making her feel tiny.

‘Who did you say you were?’ he demanded, finally reassured she was telling the truth. He took a step back—but he was still too close. ‘You sound... American.’

‘Half-American, half-Australian.’ Erin smiled. ‘I’m Erin O’Connell. My grandpa owns the farm next door.’

‘O’Connell...’ Mike’s brow cleared, relief deepening. This was a relative of a neighbour, bringing his children home. Not so bad after all. He looked at her more closely. ‘Did they...? Were they on your place?’

‘They were two miles down the road,’ Erin told him, her smile fading. ‘Walking dead centre of the road on a blind curve. I nearly hit them.’

Mike flinched. The farmer closed his eyes, as if in pain. Beside him, the woman called Caroline had grown silent, her eyes cool and watchful.

Finally Mike McTavish opened his eyes and looked down at Erin again.

‘Thank you,’ he said softly, and the gentleness Erin remembered so well was there in force. He smiled, a weary smile that still had the power to light his eyes. ‘Thank you,’ he repeated, and his eyes smiled directly into hers with all the warmth Erin had carried in her heart for so long. ‘For driving carefully and for bringing them home safely.’ He shook his head, wondering. ‘I drove down the lanes round here looking for them, but I couldn’t believe they’d gone so far. I decided they must be trying to cut across paddocks, so I’ve had the farm bike out searching cross-country.’

‘They were very determined,’ Erin said. ‘They tell me they were making for Sydney.’

Once again there was a look of raw pain flashing across Mike’s face.

‘Of course.’ His eyes still held hers but any trace of a smile was completely gone. ‘Sydney was their home before—before my brother and his wife were killed. But they can’t go back.’

‘The twins explained that to me.’ Erin was acutely conscious of the children behind her, listening to every word. She’d promised the children she’d speak up for them and they were waiting for her to carry out her promise.

So do it, she told herself firmly, searching for the right words. Just do it!

‘I believe both the children understand their home’s been sold,’ she continued finally, her soft voice tremulous in the farmyard stillness. ‘But they were desperate.’

‘Desperate?’ Mike’s face was confused.

‘The children ran away because you cut Laura’s hair,’ Erin managed. For some reason it was difficult to get each word out—it was so desperately important to make Mike see the children’s hurt. ‘Their parents loved Laura’s hair and told her she should leave it long. Last night you cut it. Both Laura and Matthew felt it more than if you’d beaten them. I believe—I believe you were wrong to cut it. I think you owe Laura an apology, and if she wants to grow her hair long again she should have your full support.’

Caroline’s breath hissed in.

‘That’s ridiculous,’ the woman whispered, casting an uncertain glance at Mike. ‘What gives you the right...?’

‘What gives you the right?’ Erin demanded, her eyes flashing fire. If she couldn’t hug these children as she wanted, at least she could fight their battles for them. ‘Laura didn’t want her hair cut. Would it have hurt so much to leave it long?’

‘Michael has enough to do in the mornings without combing the b...the child’s hair.’

‘Were you going to say brat?’ Erin asked slowly.

‘No.’ It was Mike again, his voice heavy. He placed a hand on Caroline’s silk-clad shoulder, stilling her with the gesture. ‘Of course she wasn’t.’ He sighed. ‘How do you know all this?’ he asked Erin, and the pain was still in his voice.

‘The twins told me,’ Erin said gently. ‘They told me when I asked. I think—I think they’re desperate to have an adult on—on their side.’

It was a direct hit and it went home hard. Mike winced.

‘Caroline meant this for the best,’ he said slowly, his eyes flicking into the truck to the twins. ‘Laura’s hair has been tangled and I don’t cope with it very well. I can’t make it look like her mother did.’

‘Does that matter so much?’

‘I guess...’ Mike stared helplessly down at her, a man right out of his depth.

Erin gave a rueful smile. This situation needed cheering up—fast. It was altogether too grim for words.

Okay. So think fast, Erin, she told herself.

And her smile deepened as she figured what to do.

She did a half-pirouette so that she had her back to the big farmer and she was facing the twins. She gave them both a reassuring wink. ‘My hair took ten seconds to brush this morning,’ she confessed, still with her back and her wayward pony tail to Mike. ‘It’s tied back with a bit of hay band. Is it so bad?’

She smiled at the twins again, pirouetted back to face Mike McTavish and tilted her chin, defying him with her eyes.

The farmer’s grim expression faded. Mike McTavish’s lips twitched. His eyes took in Erin’s disreputable hair, her dancing eyes, and then slowly took in the rest of her.

It was as if he was seeing Erin for the first time—and his eyes told her he very much liked what he saw.

‘I guess...I guess it doesn’t look too bad,’ he said slowly, and his eyes reflected her laughter.

‘Laura could do her hair this way all by herself,’ Erin said firmly. She pirouetted again to face the children and twinkled. ‘Couldn’t you, Laura? Matt could tie it for you. I bet you could even persuade Aunt Caroline to buy you some ribbon instead of hay band. If you grow your hair long again, Laura, would you mind if it’s as messy as mine?’

Both children gazed at Erin, considering. Erin’s hair was certainly not beautifully groomed. It was a mass of chestnut curls, escaping from her hay band in errant wisps all over her face.

‘I like it,’ Matthew said finally, removing his thumb and casting a scared, defiant look at Caroline.

‘It’s got straw in it.’ Laura managed a smile. ‘And...and I think there’s a bit of dry horse dung stuck at the back. But it still looks pretty.’

‘There.’ Erin’s eyes danced with laughter. She faced Mike again. ‘Even with horse dung, your problem’s solved.’

‘But Michael doesn’t want the children looking like tramps,’ Caroline snapped, fury getting the better of her.

Erin’s laughter faded—and slowly she turned to face Caroline’s hostility head-on. ‘Is that what I look like?’

‘Since you. ask, yes. You look like you haven’t washed for weeks.’

‘Caroline...’ Mike’s grip on Caroline’s shoulder tightened, and his face closed as if he’d like to haul back the words his fiancée had spoken.

They were impossible to haul back.

There was a moment’s dreadful silence. Mike and the twins all looked as though they expected Erin to explode—and then Erin’s lips twitched again as her sense of the ridiculous sprang to her rescue.

‘I’ve met a few tramps who’d take personal affront at the comparison with messy me.’ She smiled, allaying Mike’s dismay with her chuckle. Her eyes danced up at his. ‘I doubt if horse dung’s everyone’s ideal hair decor. But it doesn’t matter. I’ve spent most of this morning mucking out stables.’

She faced Caroline again and managed to maintain her smile in spite of the woman’s transparent disdain. ‘I’d love to wear silk scarves and pearls to work,’ she smiled. ‘But I just bet my horse would try to eat them. You must have a more appreciative audience than I have.’

Caroline’s jaw dropped about a foot.

The woman sure didn’t have a sense of humour. The look Caroline was directing at Erin said plainly that she thought Erin was mocking her. She thought the lowlife was thumbing its nose at its social betters!

Well, maybe she shouldn’t have commented on Caroline’s appearance, Erin thought ruefully. It just sort of slipped out before she could stop it.

So behave yourself, Erin, she told herself firmly. Be careful.

Then she hesitated. Erin blocked out Caroline’s transparent fury as she considered how to make her point to Mike. This was important.

She tilted her chin yet again and met his look with defiance, a half-smile returning to her lips. It was a smile of entreaty.

‘If I’d stopped to shower and change clothes, I would have been late for my grandpa and made him worried—as I’m worrying him now,’ she said softly. ‘I didn’t do that. But the kids are important. These two are worth worrying Grandpa for. It’s all...it’s all a matter of priority. How important is it to you that Laura is immaculate?’

‘It’s not,’ Mike said softly.

And then, before Erin knew what he was about, she was lifted by the waist by Mike’s strong hands and moved bodily aside. Mike leaned into the cab and gathered the two frightened children into his arms. His broad shoulders accommodated them both with ease as he lifted them clear.

‘You heard what Erin said, kids,’ he told them gently. ‘Erin’s grandpa is worried because she’s late, so we’ll let her go.’ He turned to Erin again, the children held tight in his arms. ‘Thank you again for bringing them home, but we’ll take care of them now,’ he said softly. ‘Believe me.’

Erin met his look. She took a deep breath. ‘I promised—I promised I wouldn’t leave here unless I knew no one would be angry with the children.’

‘No one’s angry,’ Mike said gently, holding them close. ‘Are we, Caroline?’

Caroline sure was. She’d clearly enjoy horsewhipping the American lowlife at the very least, but the look on Mike McTavish’s face checked her. With a discernible effort the woman forced herself to speak.

‘Of course not. I mean—not at the children.’ She cast Erin a look of glittering dislike.

‘Laura will be permitted to grow her hair?’ Erin demanded. If ever she was going to achieve something for the twins, now was the time.

‘Of course she can,’ Mike said heavily. He cast an unsure glance at Caroline. ‘Caroline...I mean, we thought we were acting for the best, but maybe...maybe we should have talked it over first.’

There was no mistaking the reproof behind the words, and Caroline didn’t like it one bit.

‘That’s just fine.’ Erin smiled before Caroline could answer. She walked round to the driver’s door of her truck and hesitated. ‘I also promised the twins I’d ride over and see them tomorrow. Is that okay?’

‘There’s no need...’ Caroline was almost speechless.

‘There is a need,’ Erin said firmly. ‘I promised.’

‘Of course you can come.’ Mike was almost totally occupied with his armload of children but he flashed her a smile that held. It was exactly the same smile that had knocked Erin’s socks off all those years ago. ‘You’ll be very welcome.’

Erin flashed a look at Caroline’s livid face.

‘I’ll just bet I won’t be.’ She smiled ruefully. ‘But I’ll come just the same.’

CHAPTER THREE

ERIN’S grandpa was just where she’d left him ten years ago.

She turned into the driveway of O’Connell’s farm and looked up to see Jack O’Connell lazily rocking back and forth in his favourite chair on the verandah.

It was like coming home.

Erin beeped the horn as a deep contentment welled up inside her. The events of the past hour faded. She was going to miss her parents so much it hurt—miss home and miss the life she’d built herself—but the decision to come here was the right one. The only one. She had been talking of it for so long—and finally she was here.

Why was this place so special?

The O’Connell place didn’t hold a candle to the McTavishes’. The farm itself was maybe a tenth of the size of the neighbouring landholding, and the small weatherboard cottage looked ramshackle in comparison.

Where the McTavishes had manicured gardens and English oaks and elms, here the paddocks ran right up to the verandah. Fat cattle wandered up to the windows or lazed in the shade of the gum trees round the house. Compared to the McTavishes it was definitely a poor relation—though not quite an abode fit for tramps!

This tramp was content, Erin thought happily. Her grandpa’s farm looked a million dollars to Erin. Home is where the heart is, and Erin’s heart had been split in two since her visit here ten years ago. Half was in America and half was here—but, by coming here, maybe the two halves could be brought closer together.

On the verandah the old man had stopped his rocking, his gnarled, weather-beaten face crinkling into a broad beam of welcome. Jack O’Connell came slowly down the verandah steps, but he hadn’t reached the bottom before Erin was flying up to meet him.

‘Grandpa...’

‘Erin... Erin, love... Well, well...’ Jack O’Connell hugged his granddaughter hard and then held her at arm’s length. ‘Let me look at you.’

‘Let me look at you!’ Erin was laughing and weeping in his arms. ‘Oh, Grandpa...’

He was the same Grandpa. Jack O’Connell was older and infinitely more worn—heavens, he was near eighty now, Erin thought with dismay—but there was life and vigour in the old face yet.

‘Eh, you’re the spitting image of your mother,’ Jack said softly. ‘It’s good to have you here, Erin lass.’

‘It’s good to be here.’ Erin tucked her arm through her grandpa’s and led him back up to the verandah. ‘Now all that’s left for us to do is to catch up on ten years’ gossip.’ She grinned. ‘But we have all the time in the world to do it.’

‘All the time in the world...?’

‘I’m here to stay, Grandpa,’ Erin said firmly. ‘So you’d better get used to me.’

‘Tell me about Mike McTavish,’ Erin ventured over her third cup of tea and Jack’s first beer.

The shadows were lengthening from the towering gum trees, and soon it would be time for dinner, but neither Erin nor Jack felt like moving. There was a deep satisfaction in them both, and as they talked Erin saw the lines of strain she’d noticed in her grandfather’s face slowly start to fade. Already he seemed somehow younger.

It must have been so hard for this man to watch his only son migrate to America, she thought. Erin’s dad had had his own hard reasons for moving his family to the United States and Jack knew and approved—but Jack had been left alone too long. Erin’s decision to return was the right decision.

‘What do you want to know about Mike McTavish?’ Jack asked cautiously. He cast a slightly anxious look at Erin. ‘The lad’s engaged to be married, Erin.’

Erin winced as she saw his anxious look. So Jack O’Connell had noticed his granddaughter’s childish crush ten years ago! Oh, dear! If grandpa had noticed, it must have been obvious to everyone.

The only consolation was that it hadn’t been memorable to Mike McTavish. Mike McTavish seemed not even to remember her. Which was just as well...

‘Grandpa, I’m a grown lady now.’ Erin smiled, even though the smile cost her an effort. ‘You can put what I was like when I was fourteen right out of your mind.’

Jack grinned affectionately across at his granddaughter. ‘Well, you sure were stuck on Mike McTavish.’ He hesitated. ‘It did cross my mind...when I had your letter saying you were coming...’ He shook his head. ‘Your parents look like staying in Pittsburgh for a lifetime now. Your mother tells me your dad will never be fit enough to travel. So...what made you come back?’

‘It wasn’t because of Mike McTavish,’ Erin said soundly. She hesitated. ‘Or maybe...’ She met her grandfather’s look, fair and square. ‘Maybe it was, in a way. Because when Mom and Dad sent me out to visit you ten years ago, I had that awful crush.’ She smiled self-consciously. ‘And, I’ll admit, for a while there I dreamed of marrying the man. Fourteen-year-olds are like that. But it started me thinking what it would be like to live here for ever. And somehow...somehow it wouldn’t go away. The feeling that here was home.’

‘Your parents moved away when you were five,’ Jack growled. ‘This is hardly home.’

‘It is,’ Erin insisted. ‘It’s Pittsburgh that’s never seemed home to me.’ She bit her lip. ‘Grandpa, I don’t like the city. You know I’ve spent every minute I can on farms. I did an agricultural course in the States—’

‘In between riding horses.’

‘In between horses,’ she agreed. ‘But I always knew this was where I wanted to be. It’s my dad’s home. And all of us have hated you being here by yourself.’

‘Your parents approved of your coming?’

‘Even Mom.’ Erin smiled. ‘She’s married to an Aussie and she’s resigning herself to having an Aussie daughter.’

‘But your riding...’

‘I can ride here.’

‘Not—’

‘Grandpa, it doesn’t matter.’ Erin reached out and took his hand. ‘I want to live here. It’s my decision.’

‘And...and Mike McTavish had nothing to do with it?’

Erin shook her head and smiled. ‘Honest, Grandpa. It has nothing to do with Mike McTavish.’ Or, at any rate, she acknowledged to herself, not very much.

Jack O’Connell smiled, as if suspecting Erin’s mild deception. His crinkled old eyes saw heaps. They always had. ‘So why are you asking about Mike McTavish then, lass?’ he asked gently. ‘If you haven’t been thinking of him.’

‘Because I’ve already met him again...’

Briefly Erin outlined the events of the afternoon. Jack O’Connell listened in silence and then nodded slowly to himself.

‘I’ll bet Mike McTavish won’t have known about the child’s hair until it was cut,’ he said slowly. ‘Mike’s a good lad. He wouldn’t hurt a child deliberately and it’s local opinion he’s nutty on the twins. No. The haircutting sounds just like Caroline Podger.’

‘Tell me about Caroline.’ Erin nestled down in her ancient chair, contented. Jack O’Connell had always been a man of few words—but one who saw a lot for all his silence. He told no one his troubles but he seemed to know the troubles of everyone else.

Jack shrugged. ‘I can’t tell you much, girl. Only what I’ve heard on the grapevine.’

‘That’ll do me,’ Erin said promptly. ‘I seem to remember you having the best grapevine of anyone I know.’

‘Checky...’ He smiled, his old eyes drinking his granddaughter in.

‘So go on. Tell me.’

‘Caroline Podger...’ Jack nodded. ‘Well, the girl’s family have a big place north of here, I gather. They’re not much liked. Her dad treats his employees like dirt and then whinges round the district because he can’t get good help. Word is, his daughter’s worse than her old man. Rumour is she has a vicious temper, but she keeps it well hidden from those she considers important. Like Mike McTavish.’

‘Have they been engaged long?’ Erin asked, consciously trying to keep her voice sounding uninterested.

Jack threw her a look which said he wasn’t fooled in the least. ‘Three months,’ he told her. He shrugged. ‘Mike’s been on his own since his dad died. His older brother had no taste for farming and moved to Sydney—then got himself and his wife killed. Those two little kiddies landed on Mike’s doorstep the day after.’ He grimaced. ‘That put paid to Mike McTavish’s bachelor existence right there and then.’

‘He...’ Erin bit her lip. How to ask? ‘Mike’s had a few girlfriends?’

‘Well, I’ve heard he likes the ladies, does our Mike.’ Jack grinned. ‘Can’t say I blame him. I did the same once, before I met your grandmother. Still, when your grandma came along I was fair smitten—but Mike seems to have chosen his bride because of her suitability.’

‘Suitability?’

‘They move in the same circles,’ Jack told her. ‘They’ve been an on-again off-again item for years. It always seemed to the district they just used each other as a social convenience between more interesting partners—but suddenly it’s more than that. She’s getting long in the tooth—and he wants a wife.

‘Caroline’s groomed herself well for the job. She’s done a cordon bleu cookery course or some such thing in France. She makes a wonderful hostess and as a social organizer she’s second to none. Mike McTavish lived a pretty messy bachelor existence until the twins. So... he’s made up his mind to marry a lady trained for the job.’ He grimaced. ‘Can’t say I’d like to wake up next to that every morning, though.’

‘But...Grandpa, surely he must...well, he must love her. To ask her to marry him...’

‘Folk say he panicked,’ Jack said slowly. ‘And who’s to blame him—a single man saddled with two grief-stricken six-year-olds out of the blue? Maybe anyone would have panicked in the same circumstances. Grace Brown does housework for him two mornings a week, but she has her own husband and boys and farm to run. Domestic help here is darned hard to find. For Mike McTavish—a lad who doesn’t know one thing about raising kids—our Caroline must have seemed a sensible solution.

‘And maybe she’s just as pragmatic. Word is that her father’s running short on money; she’s not trained for a lot beside social niceties and Mike’s offer must have looked as good to her as it seemed sensible to him.’

‘Ugh.’

Erin shuddered and Jack O’Connell subjected his granddaughter to a long, scrutinizing stare.

‘What the squatocracy do with their lives isn’t our business, though, Erin girl,’ Jack said softly. His gaze grew a little anxious. ‘Now... You did say...you did say you were staying a while?’

‘If you’ll have me.’ Erin hesitated and then took his hand. ‘Your last letter said you’re thinking of selling.’

‘I don’t have a choice,’ her grandpa said roughly. ‘I can’t manage the place on my own any more.’ He looked out over the lush green pastures to the rolling hills beyond. This area of the western district of Victoria, with its rich river plains and scattered red gum trees was arguably one of the most beautiful parts of Australia. ‘It’ll break my heart, though, lass,’ he whispered. ‘I don’t mind admitting it.’

‘Well, that’s why I’m here.’ Erin caught his hand. ‘Grandpa, you know I love this place. You know I always have. I’ve done two years’ agricultural training between my mucking about with horses. I’ve been working part-time as farm hand and horse strapper since I left home. And all I want...’ She took a deep breath. ‘All I want from life is to live here and run this farm for you. For us. What do you say, Grandpa? Could you bear to have me?’

The old man’s eyes filled with tears. He put a hand up to shove them away but more welled up after them.