Page 39 of Where the Wattles Bloom

Rowena sucked in a breath at the blast of frigid air. Bloody hell. It couldn’t be much over zero degrees.

Not that it seemed to affect Red, who stopped for a brief leg lift on the nearest tree before running off towards the house, barking merrily, as if it was a balmy twenty-seven degrees. Rowena, on the other hand, in nothing but her underwear, was instantly stippled in goosebumps, head to toe.

Hell, her goosebumps had goosebumps. But oh, the scene outside the door …

Early rays of sunshine gilded the gum leaves overhead and glistened in the beads of moisture clinging precariously to their tips, shimmering like diamonds in the trees. A thin veil of mist shrouded distant gullies, and the strong aroma of eucalyptus perfumed the air.

It was utterly lovely. Except for those bloody bagpipes.

Ignoring the bite of cold, she sought them out, her warm breath misting into the frigid air as her eyes and ears worked in tandem to identify the source. It took a few seconds but there, on the back veranda of the homestead, stood a bare-chested Lachlan McCabe.

Playing the goddam bagpipes.

Hang on. Was he? She blinked then squinted through the fancy balustrading. Oh god. He was. He wasn’t just bare-chested. He was bare-arsed.

Bare-fronted too.

Was she … hallucinating? Had she been drugged? Did they drug you in this version of hell? Because even at this distance it was something she could not unsee. And yet, despite literally freezing her nipples off, she couldn’t seem to stop staring.

Rowena blinked. Jesus. What was she thinking? She was a nurse, for crying out loud—she’d seen plenty of dick. Hell, she’d seen his not that long ago and, though it hadn’t managed to pull a rabbit out of a hat, it had been an impressive specimen.

Even from this distance on a cold morning, it didn’t disappoint. The man should seriously cast it in bronze and mount it somewhere.

But perving on him was icky. And it was far too early for this shit anyway. Pulling the door shut, Rowena padded back to bed, pulled the covers over her and promptly fell back to sleep.

*

It was almost ten when she next woke. To utter silence. Stretching on the very comfortable bed, she looked around the bright space. Strong light filtered in from both the side and deck doors and from the three banks of narrow windows situated up high on each wall. She hadn’t clocked them last night but they were hard to not see now as sun streamed into the room from every angle.

Her stomach grumbled and she sat, kicking the blankets off. She smelled coffee and noticed a plate sitting on the kitchen bench covered in a tea towel. Curious, she climbed into her clothes from last night, shoved her feet into her boots and went to investigate.

Noting the percolator was full, Rowena removed the cloth to find a dozen still vaguely warm pikelets, a jar of Christmas marmalade sitting alongside.

Obviously, the breakfast fairy had been.

God, she hadn’t slept this soundly in a very long time. Maybe it was all this country hush? Or the air?

Or maybe they really had drugged her …

A note was folded over and stuck under the marmalade.

Good morning, Ro. Hope you slept well.

Coffee pot on. Sugar in the pantry. Butter, milk and cream in the fridge.

Come to the house when you’re ready.

Whoever wrote it didn’t sign their name, but the spidery lettering indicated it wasn’t Lachlan. She had no doubt his writing would be bolder, stronger, firmer.

Which reminded her of him playing the bagpipes naked this morning. She hadn’t dreamed that, right?

Gah! She clearly needed coffee.

*

Fifteen minutes later, Rowena shut the door behind her as she headed for the house, the washed pikelet plate and tea towel in hand. The day had warmed considerably but her breath still fogged the air and she hunched into her jumper as she covered the distance, which was less than it had seemed last night by the beam of the torch.

She didn’t use the back door—that felt way too casual as of yet—walking around the veranda to the front door. Blue thumped her tail and whined a little for some loving, and Rowena spent a few moments petting her and the puppies.