Free Cattle Baron: Nanny Needed by Margaret Way Page B

exquisite skin. Tell me, did you ever have freckles?”
    The way he looked at her caused little sparkles in her blood. Not that there was anything overtly sexual about it. He just happened to be a very sexy man, which wasn’t all that easy for even a good-looking man to pull off. “It may be news, but the answer is no,” she said lightly. “I don’t know that my mother ever let me out of the house without a hat. I was never able to bask beachside, for instance. But I don’t crinkle and wrinkle in the sun either. Why, are you disappointed I don’t have a few freckles?”
    He laughed. “The short answer is no. So come into the house. Chips, one of our groundsmen, will attend to your luggage and bring it to your room.”
    “I am expected?” She tilted her head to look up at him. It was a great feeling.
    “Of course you’re expected,” he said.
    “How good is that!”
    The housekeeper, Dee, early fifties, dressed uniform style in crisp navy and white checked cotton, showed her to her room. Dee was a small, wry, smiling woman with a pretty cap of salt and pepper curls, velvety dark eyes and a copper skin. Amber guessed she was highly efficient. She gave the impression of being a durable sort of woman. A woman one could depend on. From her colouring and a certain lilt in her speech, Amber thought she might also have aboriginal blood in her. Later, she was to find out that it was through Dee’s maternal grandmother.
    “I hope you like where I’ve put you, miss,” Dee was saying, turning to gesture to the tall lanky man with a head like a bald tyre who suddenly appeared with Amber’s luggage in hand. This had to be Chips. “Just beside the bed, thanks, Chips.” Chips nodded, giving Amber lots of curious looks, almost as a child would.
    “Leave ’em, dear,” Dee continued in a brisk motherly tone. “God bless.”
    Chips deposited the luggage where told, then reached out to shake Dee’s hand. “Bless you, Dee. You’re a lovely person.”
    Dee took his arm and began to walk him to the door. “You’re a lovely person too.”
    “That was Chips,” Dee said when she returned from seeing him off. “If you wondered why I didn’t introduce you, Chips would have plonked himself down on the bed and told you the story of his life. Not a happy one until he arrived on Jingala. He’s a good bloke is Chips. He used to be a stockman, but he took a terrible kick to the head from his horse. Its name was Lazy May, believe it or not, six and more years ago. Since then he’s been a little slow, but talkative if you know what I mean. Once he gets started, it’s hard to get him to stop.”
    “But he’s got a good home.”
    “We all have.” Dee gave a heartfelt exhalation. “The MacFarlanes have always been revered the length and breadth of the Outback. Cal is the best there is. Now, want me to unpack for you?’
    Amber smiled. “Thanks, Dee, but I can manage. I’m sure you’ve got other things to do. And please do call me Amber.”
    “Beautiful name for a beautiful woman,” Dee announced, giving Amber’s face and bright mane of hair a worried glance. “You’re gonna have to watch yourself out here, Amber. I’d hate to see you burn. You the redhead an’ all with that lovely skin.”
    “I’ll take care,” Amber said. “My colouring isn’t as fragile as it looks.”
    Dee laid a hand briefly on Amber’s arm. “I’ll look around for an Akubra,” she said. “Got a whole bunch o’ hats for guests and the like. Lunch in a half hour. Mrs MacFarlane not so good today. So you mightn’t see her. Had a real bad night with the little fella. I’ve given up offering to watch him. We don’t get on so good and I get on with most people. That’s me and the young Mrs MacFarlane, that is. I have to say she’s got herself one difficult little soul. Doesn’t want to be held. Doesn’t even want to eat. Cries all the time, poor little scrap. Mrs MacFarlane is kinda delicate, high-strung, and it’s communicating