Free Christmas at Candlebark Farm by Michelle Douglas Page B

time he saw them guilt swallowed him whole because he knew they hadn’t found it.
    And seeing him only made it worse for them.
    He bit back an oath. It was why he avoided going into town wherever possible—to try and spare them at least thatmuch. And look where his Good Samaritan act had landed him today!
    From the corner of his eye he glanced at Keira. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find it in him to regret helping her.
    â€˜What do you reckon, Dad?’
    Luke shook himself. ‘Sorry?’
    â€˜What’s your favourite name for a girl? In case that’s what Keira has?’
    He didn’t know why Jason was so fascinated by Keira’s pregnancy. ‘I…dunno.’ He shrugged. It was nothing to him.
    â€˜Well, what if it’s a boy, then?’ Jason persisted.
    Luke wanted out of the cab of the ute—fast. He turned into the driveway at Candlebark, eased his foot off the accelerator when what he really wanted to do was floor it.
    â€˜Well?’
    â€˜Uh…Jason.’ He latched onto that. ‘Jason is a good name for a boy.’
    He pulled the ute to a halt by the barn.
    â€˜What other names did you and Mum have picked out?’
    The question froze Luke’s blood. ‘I can’t remember.’ He shot out of the car. ‘Got work to do!’ he fired over his shoulder.
    â€˜Need a hand?’ Jason called after him.
    Luke shook his head and kept walking.
    Â 
    When Luke pushed through the back door that evening he stumbled to a halt, half frozen in the act of hauling off his hat and dragging his forearm across his brow.
    Someone had stolen his kitchen.
    And replaced it with a picture of domestic bliss. He blinked. The scene didn’t waver and disappear. He tried to raise Brenda and Alf’s faces to his mind, to temper the gratitude that raced through him—he didn’t deserve this—but that didn’t work either.
    Keira stood by the stove. Jason sat at the table chatting to her. The table was laid with a red and green checked cloth and the cutlery shone. A glass bowl of salad sat in the middle of the table, and Keira now turned to set a bowl of warmed rolls beside it. She sent him one of those trademarks smiles of hers, and the weight of the afternoon lifted from him.
    â€˜You’re just in time.’
    He nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak.
    And then she leant down and pulled a lasagne from the oven. It looked great. It smelled even better. His mouth started to water. ‘Did you make that?’
    â€˜She did.’ Jason shook his head in awe. ‘From scratch!’
    Luke washed his hands and took his seat. He dragged the scents that filled the kitchen into his lungs. He savoured the way his shoulders and arms ached from the afternoon’s hard digging.
    Keira set a plate of lasagne in front of him, and he wondered if she knew how lovely she looked with damp tendrils clinging to her neck and around her temples. She’d scraped her hair up into some kind of topknot, obviously to keep it out of the way while she’d been preparing the food. Her skin had a healthy rosy glow. She looked good enough to eat.
    â€˜What?’ She touched a hand to her face. ‘Do I have tomato paste on my face or something?’
    He yanked himself around. ‘No, I…uh…this looks great.’
    He couldn’t remember the last time he and Jason had sat at the table and had a meal together. He touched his knife, fingered the tablecloth. They’d used to eat together in the lounge room, with the television on, but somewhere along the way Jason had gravitated towards the computer in the evenings and Luke had holed up in his study to keep on top of the farm accounts.
    â€˜It’s the least I could do after all your help today.’
    â€˜Keira told me what you did,’ Jason piped up. ‘That was pretty cool, Dad.’
    Luke couldn’t remember the last time Jason had paid him any kind