The Protea Boys (9 page)

Or anywhere else for that matter—unfortunately
.

Mug in hand, Georgie drifted off to the shower. When the needles of water hit her body, she threw her head back and let it stream over her. Every inch of her seemed to tingle as she soaped herself thoroughly, trying very hard to keep the image of Tom from her mind. She was behaving like a juvenile delinquent. She hardly knew the man.

But he kissed me.

The last thing she needed right now was to get involved with anyone. One kiss meant nothing. She needed to concentrate on making a go of the business and compensating for the disaster in Sydney. She owed it to herself and to her parents.

Georgie rubbed herself roughly with the towel almost as a punishment and dragged on a clean pair of cargo pants and T-shirt, ran the brush through her hair, and stomped off to her office.

***

After several hours of spreadsheets and bank statements, Georgie glanced up from the screen and blinked rapidly, trying to clear the blurring in her eyes, then across to the window to adjust her vision to the bright afternoon sunlight. Even inside the house, she could feel the radiant heat. If she made any money this year, the first thing she’d do would be to install some air conditioning.

Outside, she could see Tom pulling the long black snake of irrigation pipe from the soil. Hopefully he’d coil it up and not leave it exposed to the sunlight to break down. She should remind him, and perhaps he’d have some idea by now of how much new pipe she would need too. There was no doubt she would need to irrigate and irrigate soon. The bureau of meteorology was forecasting dry westerly winds and very little rain, a long, hot month. Georgie pulled her pink cap on and as an afterthought, grabbed a couple of bottles of water and headed outside.

The sun beat down and the dry grass crunched as she walked across it. As she got closer to the shed, she could feel the reflected heat from the corrugated iron walls. It must be like a furnace inside. Quite how Tom managed to keep working in the heat she didn’t know.

“Hey, Tom, how are you going?” She handed him a bottle of water.

“Thanks.” He pulled the lid off the bottle and tipped his head back. Captivated by the muscles in his tanned neck contracting as he drank, she stared, bemused, until he pulled the bottle away and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and raised one eyebrow at her.

“It’s all a bit of a mess around here. You’re going to need to spend some money replacing some of the pipe. Plastic’s not very expensive, so it’ll be mostly labor costs.” He held the bottle of water against his forehead.

Waving her hand in front of her face, Georgie tried to create a bit of a breeze; the sight of Tom stripped to the waist, slick with sweat, made the hot, humid air totally claustrophobic. “It’s what I have been working on. I’m trying to draw up a spreadsheet and see if I can guesstimate how much I am going to need to spend. And then there’s Bertha...”

“Bertha? Who is Bertha?” A frown of confusion creased Tom’s brow.

“The pump, the diesel pump down on the dam.”

Then he grinned. She wondered if he knew the lines on his face softened and his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled.

The impact of his laugh resounded deep in the pit of her stomach, and as their eyes met, a razor-sharp thrill zinged through her.

“We’ll worry about Bertha later. Right now I need to measure up this pipe and go and pick some up, and I need more fuel. I’ll do that when I collect the pipe.”

Georgie raised her hand and brushed the hairs on the back of her neck down, trying to maintain her temper and control.

Who is running this show?

“I really need you to look at Bertha today, before you go to town, in case we need spare parts.” Annoyance crept into her voice.

“No. I’ll go to town first and get the pipe. There’s no point in worrying about the pump until we have pipes to pump the water through.”

Taking a deep breath, Georgie debated the importance of it all and then gave up. He’d made a perfectly reasonable suggestion. Why did she always feel as though he were taking over? She managed to squash the overwhelming desire to tell him she’d sort it out herself and let it go. It was madness, and he was probably right. Get one job finished before starting another.

“You go inside out of this hot sun and leave it to me.”

It was the final straw, and a flash of anger ignited. Momentarily unable to speak because her lungs seemed to have forgotten how to function, she stalked away.

She briefly thought of calling Tom up to the office and telling him in no uncertain terms exactly what he should do and when she wanted it done, but the sound of his car engine firing to life gave her the answer too late. He wasn’t going to take a damn bit of notice about what she wanted done.

Chapter Thirteen

The trip into town took Tom longer than he expected. When he arrived back, the sun was setting, and there was no one in sight. The truck was parked in the shed and the tools neatly cleaned and stacked. He unloaded the irrigation pipe and heaved it into the shelter of the shed.

“There’s no way she could have done this herself,” he told the shadows. “It’s far too heavy. Good job she has someone to give her a hand. It’s too much for one woman.”

Sometimes Tom wondered if she had any idea of what she had taken on. The way things were looking, she’d need a lot more help and a hefty investment of cash if the place was going to make any money. So much for his intentions to leave in a month or so.

He stopped in his tracks, horrified. It was exactly what he had planned
not
to do. He didn’t want to get involved; he was here to look after the machinery and help the boys and get the jobs done, not worry about what she could and couldn’t afford to do. It wasn’t his problem. Why worry about the future prospects of this tin pot little hobby farm? He intended to be gone in a couple of months.

The boys had obviously left for the day and were by now no doubt downing a quiet ale at the Inn. It didn’t sound like a bad idea. He had an hour or two to kill before he had to make an appearance at the restaurant. He unloaded the rest of the pipe and checked his watch. The prospect of playing wine waiter to his brother’s
maître d’
didn’t appeal one little bit, so turning on his heel, he headed off to the dam, staving off the inevitable with a quick look at the pump before it got dark.
Bertha
. He chuckled at the ridiculous name.

Machines shouldn’t be given names. They were far less complicated than people. No point in confusing the issue by giving them a personality. Georgie was enough of a handful, never mind another temperamental female on in the place. As obstinate as all get-out, and she’d perfected the skill of getting under his skin. In fact, the very fragrance of the flowers evoked the memory of her slim, lithe body in his arms. His skin prickled as a shiver ran through him.

The overhanging gum leaves caught in his hair, and he pushed them out of the way, inhaling the sudden burst of refreshing eucalyptus invading the air. When he turned the corner, the track divided, and a wide expanse of water came into view. He ground to a sudden halt
.

What is she up to now?

Obstinate?

Rephrase it.

Bloody impatient.

Why couldn’t she leave well enough alone? He’d told her he would look at the pump.

Tom took two more steps and then stopped, shaking his head in despair. Grinning, he squatted quietly down, leaning back against the trunk of a dead tree as the pantomime unfolded.

Despite her working clothes, she had a grace and femininity about her, even up to her neck in grease, balanced on the side of the dam, next to a diesel pump. The encroaching evening light sent pinpricks of fading sunbeams skimming across the calm surface of the dam.

Georgie had oil everywhere. Tom huffed. Why couldn’t she have waited? If she lost too many parts of the motor, he wouldn’t be able to rebuild it without another trip to town. Let her hang herself and then maybe she wouldn’t be so arrogant. He’d have to service the pump anyway. It had been sitting all winter, so what did it matter if it was in a million pieces?

He picked up a stray twig and twirled it in his fingers, his gaze firmly fixed on the delightful crouched body on the other side of the dam. Fortunately, she was only mucking around with the pieces he’d have to strip down anyway.

Tom narrowed his eyes when he saw Georgie hunch lower over the engine and reach for a spanner. She had her tools all laid out on an old towel and her sleeveless cropped top showed the tanned skin on her upper arms and a tight strip of tanned back. The sheen of sweat made her skin glisten, enhancing the strength in her slender arms. Even in the greasy clothes she still managed to ooze appeal. His body tightened—so much for trying to ignore her physical attributes.

Georgie picked up an old toothbrush and dipped it in the fluid and cleaned the fuel filter and Tom sent a quick prayer up, hoping she was using diesel and not petrol. But maybe he wasn’t doing her justice. She replaced the cylindrical filter and opened the bleed screws. His eyebrows shot up.

Very good.

Then Georgie stood up, her strong, lithe body silhouetted against the last rays of the sun, and leaned forward, fitting the crank on the motor. Tom restrained himself from jumping up and going to help. If the motor kicked back, she’d be thrown into the water. He waited for her to forget the nut on the injector pipe; it wouldn’t start. No. She’d got it. She closed the compression valve, cranked the engine, and it burst into life.

Enthralled, he burst into applause. “Go, Georgina.”

There was no possibility she could have heard him above the deafening roar of the old motor, but his movements must have caught her attention because she looked across the dam at him and waved a clenched fist and jumped up and down with excitement.

Feigning nonchalance, Tom strolled around the edge of the dam, his boots sinking into the mud. The water pulsated through the heavy black pipes. It would be running out into the paddock because he hadn’t capped the irrigation system, but it didn’t matter. Far more important for the old pump to run for a few minutes, and besides, he didn’t want to spoil Georgie’s moment of glory by suggesting she might be wasting her carefully harvested water.

When he reached the pump, she had most of the tools cleaned and collected up into a bucket clearly labeled
“Bertha
.
”

Smart and organized
.

His admiration ricocheted up a couple more notches.

“Well done.” He threw the compliment like a spanner, and she caught it, grinning back in triumph.

“Thanks! I’ve got a lot to thank my dad for.” Her eyes sparkled with her success, and Tom responded with an answering smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth and his heart. Her pleasure was contagious.

“I thought it was going to need a lot more work.” A mischievous grin lit up her violet eyes as she smiled up at him, making his stomach contract sharply.

“Beginner’s luck.” As the words left his mouth, he regretted both of them, but it was too late. He saw violet turn to amethyst.

“No, not beginner’s luck. Just waxed up. It’s what happens to a diesel engine when it’s left sitting and not used through the cold weather.” She arched her eyebrows at him.

Tom was tempted to thank her for the brief lesson in mechanics but thought better of it. “You could have waited, you know. I said I’d do it. And when I say I’ll do something, I mean it.”

“Well, it’s done now.” Georgie rubbed her greasy hands together, dismissing the job as though it were nothing more than an everyday occurrence.

“I’ll give Bertha a full service tomorrow, and then you won’t have to get your hands—or your nose—dirty again.” Tom let his hand fall to his side, resisting the temptation to wipe the grease spot that disturbed the perfect symmetry of the freckles on her button nose.

Georgie ignored his reference to her face, lifted her hands to her hips, and moved closer. Her eyes flashed like fire. “Tom, you don’t get it, do you?” She paused, but somehow he didn’t think she really wanted an answer. “There’s no need for you to service it. I have already serviced it.” She spoke slowly and carefully. He could see the tightness in her jaw pulling her cheekbones into stark relief against another smudge of diesel. “I don’t actually mind getting my hands dirty, and since this is my show, I’ll decide what I am going to do and when I am going to do it, especially if you don’t get it done when I want it done.”

Tom got her message loud and clear; instead of taking her in his arms and covering her diesel-splattered body in kisses as he wanted to, he clamped his lips together. By the look of things, he was going to have to accept that she actually wasn’t much like any other woman he’d ever come across before. “Well, it looks like I’m redundant as a mechanic. The least I can do is carry your bucket back up the hill. Lead the way.”

“I haven’t quite finished,” Georgie said in an undertone, making him wonder what would come next; maybe he’d overstepped the mark. He hoped not. He was enjoying being around her more and more every day, even finding reasons to work around the farm while he sent the boys off to do other jobs. Perhaps she was going to give him the sack. He grinned at her, ready to call her bluff.

“We have to switch Bertha off. Had you forgotten? We don’t want to waste water.”

Right. Well, she’s caught me out nicely, hasn’t she? We better do what needs to be done.

He shuffled around on the side of the dam while Georgie bent down and cut off the intake switch and closed the taps, trapping the water in the pipes so it would start easily next time.

“So you learned how to service a diesel pump from your dad,” Tom said while they wound their way back around the dam and up to the shed.

“Yes. Dad taught me.” There had never been any reference to her family before. Tom had imagined her as all alone in the world—except for her friend Hillary, of course.

“I was an only child, so we knew from day one the farm would eventually be mine. When we first moved here, we just used it as a weekender, and when Dad retired, he and Mum moved here full time. They were never going to live anywhere else. I got to be the jill-of-all-trades. Especially after Dad had his stroke.” She stared down at the path, but Tom could see the beginnings of tears gather. His heart went out to her, knowing how painful it could be shedding tears over family.