‘You can have Hattie’s house,’ she told him again. ‘Let’s leave everything else for now. I wonder who’s going to meet us?’


Everybody met them. The plane touched down in Melbourne; they walked through the doors from Customs and Peta disappeared in the midst of a mêlée of large, male redheads. Marcus saw Peta’s brothers as a group, their family likeness unmistakeable as they leaned forward over the barrier in their eagerness to see their sister, and then Peta was through and they merged. Peta was enfolded into a group hug, and the hug went on for so long he thought he’d lost her.

But finally she was released. Tousled and laughing, she gazed at them all with affection. Four boys, three of whom were well over six feet, and the fourth a smaller, freckled one with the promise of at least a foot of growth to come.

‘I’ve missed you all so much,’ she told them. ‘Come and meet Marcus.’

The oldest broke away from the group at that. Lean and gangly, just out of adolescence, the boy’s smile died and his face grew serious. Red-headed, freckled like his brothers and all of about twenty, the kid had the same look on his face as the one Peta had worn when Marcus first met her. Defiance, and a vulnerability he was trying to hide. He stepped forward and took Marcus’s hand in a grip that was surprisingly strong for one so young.

‘I’m Daniel,’ he said simply. ‘Peta rang. She told us what you’d done for us. We’re all so grateful.’

And Marcus, man of the world, world-weary and sophisticated, found himself almost blushing. For heaven’s sake. The gratitude of a stripling…

The gratitude of them all. They were all looking at him as if he was their very own personal genie. Peta was smiling, and…

And heck. Enough was enough.

‘I only married your sister,’ he growled. ‘That’s hardly a huge sacrifice on my part.’

Daniel managed a shy grin. ‘I don’t know about that, sir. She’s very bossy.’

‘Hey!’ Peta said.

‘She’s messy, too,’ the littlest one volunteered. ‘And she can’t cook for nuts.’

‘She’s pretty good at animal obstetrics, though,’ the second one-Christopher?-volunteered. ‘Daniel’s doing vet science but he still reckons there’s no one he’d rather have around during a messy birth than Peta.’

‘Meet my brothers,’ Peta said faintly. ‘Daniel, Christopher, William and Harry. It’s just as well you didn’t meet them before taking the matrimonial plunge, hey? A list of all my faults and virtues-including delivering cows. Good grief!’ She reached out and grabbed the littlest again, hugging him close. ‘Did you miss me?’

‘Yeah.’ Harry sounded embarrassed but he let himself be hugged and even managed a swift hug back before masculine pride tugged him backward. ‘Can we go home now?’

‘Hey, how grateful is that?’ Daniel demanded. ‘Harry’s been really well looked after in university college.’

‘You weren’t found out?’

‘Everyone knew he was there,’ Daniel told her. ‘Even the masters. But they didn’t say a word.’

‘I was really good,’ Harry said with virtue. ‘I was so good I’m good up to my neck. Peta, I’m really glad you’re home.’

‘So you can be bad again?’

‘Yep,’ he said and everyone laughed.

But the laughter was a little strained. Marcus was aware that he was being carefully appraised and the sensation was definitely unnerving.

‘I don’t suppose you guys have any free time to come back to the farm?’ Peta asked, and had three head shakes.

‘It’s end of term,’ Daniel told her. ‘Exams. In three weeks we’ll all be home to do the hay. Unless you need us.’ He cast a sideways glance at Marcus and his message was unmistakeable. Unless you need help with this strange guy you’ve brought home. Unless he’s not really the benefactor he’s supposed to be. ‘But meanwhile…’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I’ve got lectures this afternoon and so have the others. Can we leave the brat with you?’

The brat. Peta had her arm around Harry’s shoulders and the three older boys were looking at him with expressions that said not one of them thought he was a brat. This family exuded affection, Marcus thought, and the sensation was so…well, warm that it made his gut twist in a sudden surge of longing. But that wasn’t what he was here for. He was involved enough with Peta. He had no intention of becoming more involved with her family.

‘I brought your truck into the car park,’ Daniel was telling his sister. ‘But you can’t all drive home in it. You won’t fit.’

‘I assume Marcus will hire a car. I doubt he’ll want to be stuck on the farm at my beck and call.’

‘Isn’t that what marriage is all about?’ William asked.

‘William…’ Peta’s tone was warning but the kid was grinning.

‘Hey, what would we know?’ he asked, spreading his hands. ‘But you guys have been married-what-two days? You must be old hands by now. Becking and calling all over the place.’

There was general laughter. It was still strained-this was a situation that must surely lend itself to awkwardness-but they were nice kids, Marcus thought.

They were a nice family. Of course. How could they not be when Peta was…

No. He needed to stick with practicalities here. A car. He glanced down at his travel documents and, sure enough, there was a docket for car hire. But…

‘Maybe this isn’t big enough for all of us, either,’ he told them. ‘It’s a sports car from a specialist firm. Ruby knows what I like.’

‘What sort of sports car?’ Harry demanded, releasing his sister’s hand in an instant.

‘A Morgan 4/4.’

‘A Morgan?’ Harry’s eyes practically popped out on stalks. ‘You’ve hired a Morgan 4/4? Peta, you’ve married a guy who hires Morgans?’

‘Pretty cool, hey?’ Peta’s eyes twinkled at the bemused Marcus, and the strain eased. ‘I guess that settles that. Can we have a quick meal with you guys here to catch up with news? Then we’ll go. I’ll drive the truck and Marcus and Harry can follow behind in the…what did you say? The Morgan. Right. Let’s move.’


Which was why an hour later Marcus found himself travelling south along the New South Wales coast road, not with his fantasy bride-his Cinderella-but with a scrubby schoolboy who asked questions at a mile a minute and who was clearly entranced by this new personage his sister had brought home specifically for his enjoyment.

The farther south he and Harry drove, the more disconcerted he grew. Harry appeared to have accepted Peta’s explanation of this marriage as a great piece of good fortune-that good fortune appeared to have been capped off by Marcus’s taste in gorgeous blue Morgans-and Harry enveloped Marcus as if he’d been courting Peta for years. The little boy seemed totally, gloriously happy.

‘It’s not just because of the Morgan,’ he told Marcus. ‘It’s because I’m going home. You’ll love it.’


He was more and more out of his ken.

By the time Marcus arrived he’d driven through some of the loveliest country in the world-with a schoolboy by his side chattering thirteen to the dozen. He didn’t have a clue what he was letting himself in for.

Peta had reached the farm before them. When he pulled to a stop she was crouched on the veranda steps of a dilapidated cottage, surrounded by a gaggle of misbegotten dogs. The dogs came barking furiously down the steps to the car and Peta followed.

She was still limping, Marcus noticed. She was still the Peta he’d left two hours ago. She was wearing the clothes she’d worn on the aeroplane-the skirt and top they’d bought in New York to face Charles.

But she looked indefinably different. The haunted air had gone, he thought. She was smiling and there was something about that smile…

It was happiness. Her smile was a glow from inside, impossible to turn off. And why? Because she’d just arrived back at this godforsaken place…

No. That wasn’t fair, he decided. The country was beautiful. Charles had fought for this place and for good reason. The farm land was softly undulating coastline, dotted by magnificent eucalypts and backed by mountains. In the afternoon sun it looked magic.

But not so the house. The veranda looked as if it’d topple at any minute, and the house attached to it was worse.

‘Welcome to Rosella Farm,’ Peta was saying through dog barks. ‘Down. Down, guys.’ But there was no way the dogs were obeying. They were almost turning inside out as they realised it was Harry in the car. Harry did a mighty leap, and dogs and kid ended up rolling joyously in the dust.

But Marcus was still staring at the tumbledown house. ‘Is this really your home?’

‘Yes.’ Peta’s smile faded a little. ‘But don’t worry. Aunt Hattie’s house is better. It’s a couple of hundred yards further on, behind the dairy. I’ll take you there now.’

‘Right.’ He climbed out of the car, looked around him and made a decision. He needed to ground himself here. This was unfamiliar territory and Marcus dealt in facts. Knowledge was power. Or, at least, knowledge was being just a little less disoriented than he was feeling right now. ‘I need a guided tour,’ he told her.

Was it his imagination, or did she back off a bit? ‘Harry can show you over the farm after school tomorrow.’

Harry’s cheerful face emerged from his pile of assorted dogs. ‘Sure. But it’ll take ages. I’ll stay home from school tomorrow and show Marcus everything. You’ll need me to entertain Marcus. Girls never know what to do with guys.’

His grin was infectious but Peta was obviously immune. But at least she could look at Harry now instead of Marcus. He was right. She had backed off. ‘Not likely,’ she told her brother. ‘You’ve missed enough school already. But you can take Marcus down to Hattie’s now.’

Thus he was summarily dismissed. Marcus frowned. It was a neat plan. Harry could take him to her aunt’s house and therefore let her get on with her life.