Page 11 of The Mistletoe Wish

“It’s not a race,” he said mildly.

“No. But I happen to have better things to do with my time, than spend them fooling about with you.”

“Ouch. That hurt.”

“It was meant to.” Her voice was sharp but the glance she sent over her shoulder as she picked up a fabric handbag with long handles, glimmered with laughter. She marched out the door like she was on a mission.

He ambled after her, snatching up his hat as he passed. Palming his hips, he waited in the yard as she climbed into her car, an old Holden ute that seemed to be covered with more rust than paintwork. A few seconds later, no engine roared to life. Rather came the grinding groan of a flat battery.

He had to smile as he saw her lay her head on the steering wheel for a moment.

Not his doing. But still – yesterday he would have done it for sure if he had thought of it. Today? Today - everything felt different.

With uneasiness stabbing at his nerve ends as if he was embarking on a military campaign, he moved to her car and opened the passenger door. Leaning down, he said, “I could give you a jump start but I don’t have any jump leads. Come on. We’ll take the Land Rover, but first let’s check what size battery you need, and we can get one when we’re in town.” He didn’t miss the grimace that crossed her face and he had to bite back the offer to pay for it. Somehow, he just knew she wouldn’t accept what she would see as charity – certainly not from him. She popped the hood, and he noted the details of the battery. Then went to his own vehicle and waited until she clambered in the other side. “Ready?”

Wordless, she nodded, face set and turned resolutely away from him. She snapped on her seatbelt.

Anger rose. Did she think he was responsible? Or was she one of those sulky types, like his ex, who had a tantrum when life didn’t work their way?

No sooner had those thoughts entered his head, then they disappeared along with his brief flare of annoyance. She was worried. Possibly embarrassed. He knew with a deep certainty that it was because she wasn’t flush with money.

That meant if her finances were so limited, he’d be the one forking out the dough so they could both have a modicum of comfort this Christmas. He put the Land Rover into gear and drove down the rutted track.

She’d owe him.

She’d be in his debt.

Maybe he could utilise that to his advantage. He tapped his forefinger on the wheel and frowned. Somehow his plan to oust her from his life and their shared inheritance had lost its appeal. For the first time, he wondered why she wanted – no needed – the house so … so desperately. He had opened up about his daughter, but Sara had remained close-lipped.

Change of plans.

Discover Sara’s reasons. And just maybe there would be a way he could use it to his advantage.

CHAPTER5

The drive into town wasn’t far, but it was long enough for that prickly tension to grow and grow so much that Sara was about to jump from the car when they finally passed the old brewery. Ahead and on the left was the SES building, then the vicarage where, in the front yard, a plastic green tree had been liberally adorned with Christmas decorations. Streams of toilet paper dangled from the branches and hung limp under the hot summer sun. A small lean-to that looked as if the slightest breeze would blow it over had been positioned next to the tree. She could just make out a couple of stone statues bookending a real baby’s crib where wisps of straw protruded. A lone discarded bedroom slipper lay discarded and forgotten half-way down the driveway.

“He’s been diagnosed with dementia, you know,” she said.

“Who? That’s tough for him and his family.”

“Mr. Miller. Actually, I’m not sure what to call him these days. He used to be the vicar in Bindarra Creek until he became too unwell to continue. Now his wife wears the clerical collar, and he assists her during services.” She blew out a shaky breath. Dementia was far to close to home. Her own parents had suffered from Parkinson’s disease dementia. Her cheeks heated as she sensed the glance Darim threw her way. Nodding towards the display, she said, “Everyone is really getting into the Christmas spirit this year. Did you hear that there is a competition running for the best decorated house?”

“Maybe we should enter.”

She looked over at him and caught his cheeky grin. That intriguing dimple peeped beside his mouth. “Now that would be a challenge.”

He laughed.

Suddenly the stress over her lack of finances ebbed away and the day seemed brighter. Who would have thought his company would be so enjoyable? Or how appealing she found his quiet air of assurance? He didn’t appear to be one for idle chitchat – rather he spoke only when he had something significant to say. He seemed to be a man secure in his own skin. And then there was his relaxed and yet alert attitude. She didn’t know what to make of how comfortable she felt in his presence. It took quite an effort for her to remind herself that, in a way, he was her enemy. The one standing between her and a future of financial success.

But maybe having him around wouldn’t be the problem she had first thought.

Maybe joint ownership was something she could work with.

“Where to first?” Darim slowed the car.

“The hardware shop – in case they need to order in the timber you need. Then I thought we could park in the Riverside Pub’s parking lot and head to Dodge’s shop.”

---