Farmer Wants a Wife: Love and Friendship, Book 3 (16 page)

BOOK: Farmer Wants a Wife: Love and Friendship, Book 3
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“I’ll run and open the gate,” Josie said. “It won’t take a minute.”

Tyler nodded and picked up his phone to ring their neighbor about his AWOL stock. With the call made, his mind drifted yet again. How was he going to swing some privacy with Susan? The cameraman kept appearing to film for the show, which made spontaneity tricky. He had their date up his sleeve, but that would need to be at a public place and there was no way he’d keep her for a sleepover.

“Stupid animal,” Josie muttered when she climbed back into the car, a whiff of cow manure coming with her. “My good boots. They’ll never be the same.”

“You volunteered.”

“Next time remind me,” Josie snapped. “When did you meet Susan?”

Tyler’s hands clenched on the wheel. “Today.” He forced himself to glance at Josie.

“Don’t try to pull the wool over my eyes, Tyler Penrith. I saw you pinch that girl’s bottom, and since she grinned instead of smacking you, I figured you’d met before because despite what some people might say, Susan is a nice girl. She didn’t flirt with any of the other men who tried to chat her up. Besides, you practically blackmailed me into the egg-throwing contest. I wondered why you were so adamant.”

“I might have met her before,” Tyler said, turning his attention back to the country road.

“She’s your mystery woman,” Josie said.

“No,” he said quickly. Too quickly. He cursed under his breath. There was no question in her statement. Somehow, his mother-in-law had worked out everything after seeing them together once.

“She’s a lovely girl.”

“Yes,” he said.

“Yes, you’re admitting the truth or yes, you’re agreeing she’s attractive?”

“Yes to both,” he said, giving in to the inevitable.

“How did you manage to meet her?”

Tyler checked on Katey, but she was sound asleep, her tiara still sparkling on top of her head. “I emailed her after the show. We clicked and I asked if she wanted to meet in person.”

“Did you share a room?”

“Josie,” Tyler said.

She clapped her hands together. “Oh, that’s good. She likes you.”

Tyler pulled up in front of the farmhouse. “I like her too.”

“You don’t do things the easy way. What are you going to do if your brother picks her?”

“Susan doesn’t think he’ll pick her again. You’ve seen the show. Nolan goes out of his way to embarrass her.”

“Does Nolan know?”

“No one knows apart from Susan’s friends and now you. We were careful.”

“We have a date each,” Josie said. “We’ll manage some time alone for you.”

“You approve?”

“I liked Susan very much, and it’s been good to see you happy, to see the spark of fun you used to have as a youngster,” Josie said.

Tyler unbuckled Katey and carried her into the house. In her bedroom, he pulled off her shoes, her tiara and her jacket before putting her in bed for a nap. She was asleep before he’d tiptoed from the room.

“That sounds like Eric,” Josie said. “Do you want a cup of tea before you go out to shift the sheep?”

“Looks as if the rain will hold off for a bit longer,” Tyler said.

Eric bustled indoors carrying a pink and white cyclamen in a brass pot. “Look what I won for you, Josie. Another plant for you to kill off.”

“Thanks, I think.” Josie wrinkled her nose at her husband. “At least I can plant this one in the garden and it will survive despite my lack of skill.”

Tyler grabbed the biscuit tin from the cupboard, listening to their familiar bickering with a slight smile.

“I know the identity of Tyler’s mystery woman.”

“Josie,” Tyler protested, although he’d known she’d tell Eric.

“How? Who?” Eric demanded.

A teasing smile played over Josie’s lips as she glanced from him to Eric. “I’m accepting bribes. Whoever offers the highest bribe wins.”

“I’m not playing,” Tyler said. “Go ahead. Tell him.”

“Pooh, you’re no fun.”

“Josie,” Eric said. “We still need to shift the sheep.”

“I can handle it on my own,” Tyler said.

Eric shot him a frown. “Are you sure?”

Tyler accepted the cup of tea Josie handed him and took a quick sip. “Positive. The sheep practically move themselves.” Tyler could do with some time alone to formulate a plan. “Besides, it will give the pair of you plenty of time to gossip about me.”

 

 

“We do not associate with that man,” Mrs. Penrith lectured as they drove down country roads, passed paddocks full of cows and sheep, a few horses.

“What man?” Susan asked.
Ooh, alpacas. Cute
. “I met a lot of people today, and everyone was friendly and welcoming. You have a lovely town.”

The compliment didn’t soften the brackets outlining the woman’s mouth, didn’t put a dent in her set expression, didn’t promote a sliver of personal satisfaction. The woman continued driving like an emotionless machine. “If I’d known he was helping you with the egg-throwing, I would’ve fixed the problem. Immediately.”

“Tyler? He seemed like a great guy.” Susan forced a friendly smile when she wanted to snarl an accusation. What was wrong with the woman? Why did she dislike her son so much she couldn’t even say his name?

“He has a bad reputation and we do not associate with him.”

“Oh. Okay.” Susan bit her tongue.
Don’t respond. Don’t react to her pettiness
. Listening to this judgmental woman was like an unhealthy blast from her past. Once she’d been guilty of the same behavior—a black and white kind of woman. Once she’d judged others by her own rigid standards. Once she’d been an uncompromising bitch. Luckily, she’d wised up and fought the battle to correct the nasty flaw in her character.

“You have enough strikes against you as it is,” Mrs. Penrith said. “You don’t need to add more by exhibiting a lack of commonsense.”

“Yes, Mrs. Penrith.”
Witch
. Both Nolan and Tyler struck her as decent men. How they’d managed it with a mother like Elizabeth Penrith, Susan didn’t know. Good grief, how much longer would this car ride take? “I enjoyed the gala. Do you know if they raised the amount of money they needed for the computer equipment?”

“Yes, the gala was a big success. Of course, we gambled with the weather. It often rains at this time of the year.”

“What is the next fundraising event? I met the minister of the local church. He said you help raise a lot of money for the various charities and to meet the needs of the community.”

“We’re trying to start an afternoon group for the children to keep them out of trouble. With the school holidays coming up soon, we’re organizing a pilot program of different activities.”

“That’s a great idea,” Susan said. “The school holidays start next week, don’t they? I’d be happy to teach a dance class, if you think some of the kids would be interested.”

Mrs. Penrith gasped, took her eyes off the road. “I hardly think that would be appropriate.”

Chilly silence bloomed, coating the interior of the vehicle with permafrost. Thankfully, five minutes later, Mrs. Penrith jerked the car to a halt in front of a white bungalow.

Nolan opened Susan’s door and waited for her to climb from the car. He took one look at her tight expression and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Susan said.

“Susan’s bag is in the back,” Mrs. Penrith said. “Nolan, I still don’t think that it’s appropriate for the girls to stay in the house with you alone.”

“Mum, we’re hardly alone. The cameraman will spend a lot of time at the house, and I believe Jennifer’s assistant will be dropping in for a visit.”

“It doesn’t look right.”

“Thank you for giving Susan a lift,” Nolan said.

Mrs. Penrith scowled and looked as if she was winding herself up for a tirade.

“Thank you.” Susan almost choked observing the polite niceties.

“I’ll show you to your room.”

Susan followed him through a wooden gate, past a bed of pink flowers and up a curved path to the three steps leading to the entrance. A verandah wrapped around most of the bungalow—the perfect place to while away lazy afternoons or late summer evenings and savor the views into the valley and beyond, the township of Clare.

“What a gorgeous view,” she said. “Looks as if a storm is coming fast.”

“The forecast predicted rain. You should see the view from my parents’ house. It’s even better.”

Susan bet the frigid atmosphere didn’t extend to this house. It raised curiosity about Tyler’s father. What sort of man ignored one of his sons?

“I’m afraid your room is small. Jasmine and Lucy are sharing the larger room.”

“No problem,” Susan said. “As long as the bed is comfortable.” She peeked through the doorway he indicated. “Oh, you weren’t kidding.”

“Jasmine and Lucy are in the lounge.”

“Sure. I’ll join them once I freshen up. Which way is the bathroom?”

Susan walked into the lounge fifteen minutes later, her hair tied back in a braid. She’d donned a clean T-shirt—pink—and a pair of black leggings, figuring comfort was the way to go. Her phone beeped, and she plucked it from the pocket of the vest she’d pulled on over the long sleeve tee.

I wish you were here.

She’d enjoy a sanctuary with Tyler too.

Not gonna happen. Instead, she did the next best thing. She sent a return text and attached a photo of her in a showgirl costume. This one focused on the beaded bra top, her cleavage. A casual observer wouldn’t recognize her in the photo. Tyler would know since the single freckle on the upper curve of her right breast would give away her identity. He liked to kiss and lick that freckle. A hot swell of lust blasted a path to her pussy and she inhaled sharply.

“Something wrong?” Nolan asked, coming up behind her.

Susan hit send and dropped her phone into the depths of her pocket. “No. Everything’s fine.”

“What are you cooking us for dinner, Nolan?” Lucy asked.

“Beef stew, mashed potatoes and Brussels sprouts. Apple crumble and yoghurt for dessert.”

Lucy wrinkled her nose. Jasmine’s expression duplicated Lucy’s.

“Sounds great,” Susan said. “Let me know if you need a hand.”

The cameraman entered the lounge, his camera on his shoulder. “I need to record the girl’s initial impressions of their day and the farm.”

“I’ll be in the kitchen,” Nolan said.

Susan followed the scent of beef stew and sauntered into the large kitchen, scanning it with interest. Nothing fancy, the scarred counters bore evidence of hard use, but the place appeared clean. Her estimation of Nolan rose. Not the stereotypical bachelor.

“You might as well set me to work,” she said. “I can set the table or peel potatoes.” She rounded the wooden dining table at the far end of the kitchen and halted at the island counter where Nolan stood.

“Feel up to peeling apples?”

“I can go one better and make the entire crumble if you want. I don’t peel my apples. It’s much quicker my way.”

Outside, rain spilled from the sky, the splatter amplified by the iron roof. Susan peered out the kitchen window and shivered. “They were lucky with the gala.”

“Yeah. Can I leave you to do that? I’d better light the fire in here and the lounge before it gets too cold. That way we’ll have plenty of hot water.”

Susan nodded, and Nolan left his pile of potatoes and apples on the counter. Susan got to work and started on the apples, quartering and coring them before hunting through the cupboard for a grater. In the pantry, she located spices, flour and oats to make her crumble topping and quickly assembled the dessert ready to go into the oven.

Her phone beeped again. A text from Christina asking about her day. Susan fired off a quick reply, promising to email soon.

Nolan wasn’t back yet, so she started peeling the potatoes. She peeled a dozen, figuring if they didn’t eat all the mash, they could make something with the leftovers.

Nolan stomped back into the kitchen, his arms laden with kindling and small logs. A gust of icy air followed him through the rear door. A crash of thunder made Susan jump, and she glanced out the window in time to see a flicker of lightning. Another thunderous crash boomed almost immediately.

A whimper sounded at the open door. Nolan cursed softly, shot her a swift glance. “Sorry. I’ll take the dog back to his kennel.”

“He’s terrified,” Susan said. “Is that the one you adopted?”

“Yeah. I’ve been letting him sleep inside.”

“Set up his bed where he can see us, and maybe he’ll calm down.”

“Thanks, but hasn’t learned his manners. Once he settles, he’ll want to play.”

“He’s a puppy. You need to cut him some slack.”

Nolan grinned, a wide, honest smile that showed hints of Tyler, and disappeared outside. They hadn’t inherited that smile from their mother.

“Susan.” The cameraman appeared in the kitchen. “Oh good. I’ll film you here for a change of scenery. Can you cook?”

“Yes, my mother taught me and my sisters when we were young. I enjoy cooking, but I don’t get much time these days.”

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