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  He scrubbed a hand around the back of his neck. “It’s taken me a while to risk coming here today.” He grinned. “I needed to be sure I wasn’t smoking rope, or grabbing at straws. I truly am going crazy on that farm, Jase.”

  “It sounds an idea, but you’re talking big money. I’m not sure how much the hotel could—”

  “It’s not money I want from you. I don’t need financing.”

  “How the hell could you build something resembling what you’re talking about?” Jase frowned. “Do you have other backers?”

  Luke shook his head. “I don’t need backers. I can handle the financial outlay.” That was the one worry he didn’t have—money.

  “You’ve got that sort of money?” Jase leaned back in his seat with a smirk. “What’d you do, rob a bank or something?”

  Luke shrugged. “I’ve had some luck at cards.”

  “What?” Jase’s eyes bulged.

  “I gamble occasionally. Just enough to keep afloat. After I have some luck, I invest.” He smiled, guessing Jase, like most people, assumed he worked at some part-time menial jobs to fund his adventurous lifestyle. “I’ve built up a somewhat impressive portfolio over the last fifteen years.”

  “You lucky bugger.” Jase laughed. “I sometimes wondered how you afforded your lifestyle. I hadn’t pegged you for a gambler, though.”

  “I’m not a gambler.” Luke wouldn’t accept being labeled as such. He approached any gaming with a clear head and a strategy that didn’t waver. If lady luck wasn’t sitting at his shoulder, he folded and left. He’d never tried one more time when he was on a losing streak. “I do gamble, but I’m not a gambler.”

  Jase lifted a shoulder in acceptance.

  Not that it had anything to do with Jase, but Luke didn’t want his friend thinking any less of him. “I’d prefer my financial situation remained between the two of us.”

  Jase nodded. “Tell you what. Why don’t you commit some of these ideas to paper and come back and see us in a week or so. We could discuss the possibilities more precisely if I knew exactly what you’re considering. What do you think?”

  Luke leapt to his feet and grasped Jase’s outreached hand. “Thanks, I’ll do that. And I’d welcome any ideas or suggestions.” He grinned. “I don’t see me putting in a rugby paddock though. The terrain’s a bit hilly.”

  Jase laughed as they exited his office. “You’re going to need a fair bit of help setting this up, and then even more running the place.”

  “Yeah, well, I figure I can do a lot of the work myself.” He paused at Jase’s bark of laughter.

  “Yourself? You’re kidding?”

  Luke shrugged. “I’ve worked a few different places. You pick up skills along the way.”

  “But something of this magnitude?”

  Luke’s back stiffened. While he accepted his own shortcomings, he knew his abilities, too. Building the recreational aspects of his park would be little different from his occasional jobs of overseeing the maintenance on similar sites in the Northern Hemisphere. “By the time I need a hand, there’ll be guys finishing the season at the freezing works who might want some laboring work.”

  “Dad would probably appreciate some unskilled work for some of the kids at his place.”

  Luke already knew Jase’s father and brother ran a children’s home in Colac Bay. “I’m sure there’d be plenty they could do to help. I’ll pop in and see them on my way home.”

  Luke’s back was straighter as they walked across the foyer, his head higher. Hope rushed through his veins faster than water along a swollen river. The pent-up creature that’d paced this floor an hour ago was gone.

  “Hey, hold on.” Jase grabbed his arm. “Stay here.” He turned and jogged back to his office, returning with a piece of paper. “Do you remember Shannon McFarlane? She was a year behind us at school.”

  Luke’s brain was too full of adventure park plans to allow him to remember.

  “Johnny McFarlane’s sister,” Jase prompted.

  A misty visual floated just out of reach.

  “She was real quiet and shy. Red hair, she wore in pigtails.”

  The visual cleared. “Oh yeah, short, dumpy with terrible acne? That the one?”

  Jase grinned. “That’s the one, although she’s changed a bit.” He handed Luke the piece of paper. “She came in the other day asking for a job. I had nothing for her. But thinking about her resume, she might be someone you could use. She has an outdoor education degree and did some adventure work with her late husband.”

  Luke looked at the details in his hand. “Turner?”

  “She married Eric Turner.”

  Luke snorted. “That idiot who killed himself on K2?”

  “The very same.”

  “Didn’t show such great taste in men, did she?”

  Jase shrugged. “I suspect she’s having a pretty hard time. She’s come home to be close to her brother, but I got the impression that’s not working out so well either.”

  He looked Luke straight in the eye. “Perhaps having someone else to bounce ideas off—someone who knows outdoor pursuits—might help you with your plans.”

  Luke shrugged.

  They arranged a time for another meeting and Luke strode out of the hotel, his barely-controlled anticipation pumped through him faster than when a million dollars had landed in his pot. He avoided the urge to punch the air until he was around the corner in the car park.

  About to toss aside the paper in his hand as he got into his car, he paused. Maybe Jase had something. A person to bounce ideas off might be worth having around. As long as it’s the right person. If this Shannon had been involved in some outdoor training, perhaps it would be worth having a talk to her.

  He slipped the car into gear and eased out onto the road, searching for a clearer memory of Shannon McFarlane. The image of a non-descript, chubby girl who shuffled around school with her chin permanently attached to her chest was the only one he could raise.

  Not such a reassuring contender for a sounding board.

  Chapter Two

  Luke stopped in front of a little cottage at the end of Riversleigh’s long main street. Unlike its renovated neighbor, this place was almost derelict. In fact it looked as if the flaking paint might be what held it upright. He scratched his jaw, checking the address on the paper again.

  Aware of the costs involved in mounting major expeditions similar to the one last year to K2—where her husband had stupidly lost his life—Luke’s frown deepened. Eric Turner’s widow living in such a hovel? Sure must be a come-down for her.

  Luke hadn’t considered employing anyone yet, but here was someone who needed a job. I got nothing to lose; I might as well meet the woman.

  He approached the door, but hesitated as arguing—loud emotional arguing-boomed through the door.

  A woman’s voice was dictating and a boy screamed abuse in response. “I hate you, I hate you. I wish you were dead. I wish it had been you that died.”

  The door swung open as Luke turned to retreat. A mini-tornado of a boy shoved past him and tore down the street.

  Luke remained rooted to the spot. Embarrassed, he dithered whether he should continue his retreat and save the woman humiliation, or what. He wasn’t great at emotional scenes. He’d managed to avoid those most of his life.

  The decision was taken from him as he glanced at the woman—so dissimilar to the Shannon McFarlane he remembered, he momentarily wondered if he’d come to the wrong house. Even with red eyes and tear-blotched cheeks this woman could never be called non-descript. She glared at him, sniping, “What are you gawking at?” and slammed the door behind her.

  Luke shook his head as he turned away. The woman’s hair might be short, but the red color clinched it. The Shannon MacFarlane he remembered had flaming red hair.

  Deciding this was not an auspicious time to discuss anything, Luke hurried back to his car. A phone call to arrange an appointment might be more appropriate.

  He had another proble
m to tackle. Rod and Marcia deserved to know his plans. They’d been aware of his growing dissatisfaction and must be concerned where that frustration might place themselves and the children. They deserved to know he saw a way around the situation which should work for them all.

  ****

  Mortified, Shannon slumped against the slammed door, banging her head in the process. Her wobbly legs finally gave out, slipping her bottom down the woodwork until it landed with a thump onto the floor. Whoever the dread-head was, hopefully she would never see him again. Taking her hands away from her burning face, she had more important things to worry about than yelling at some stranger.

  She wasn’t giving up on Thomas. No matter how troubled things got between them, she’d never give up on him—although the struggle to maintain any sort of connection between them proved harder with each passing day. She forced herself to her feet and stumbled into the tiny kitchen.

  Her son hated that she’d dragged him out of his school in Auckland and shifted them to Riversleigh. During these altercations she was sorely tempted to tell him why they’d had to shift—that it had been because of his father’s total disregard for their welfare.

  Thomas might think himself better off with his father, but Shannon knew better. Thomas had doted on Eric, too young to see his father’s flaws. He’d taken Eric’s frequent absences in his stride, not knowing anything different. He was too young to grasp Eric’s inability to accept responsibility had led them to this borderline existence and to her widowhood.

  She couldn’t tell Thomas his hero had been a reckless gambler whose life had been focused on whatever thrills he could get. She couldn’t tell him once she’d paid all Eric’s debts that her job in Auckland wasn’t enough to pay their bills and put food on the table.

  In Riversleigh things should have been better, but her brother had his own family to worry about. Oh, Johnny had been there for her when they’d arrived and helped her settle, but he worked long hours. As far as providing a regular, steady influence for Thomas, forget it. Her desperation to escape the expense of living in Auckland hadn’t allowed her to consider her brother might be overburdened with his own responsibilities.

  At least the rent was a quarter of what she’d had to pay in New Zealand’s largest city. We have to be better off here. She repositioned a floor mat to stop the wind from under the floorboards blowing up her skirt as she stood at the stove. Emptying a couple of cans into a pot her shoulders dropped further. Unless she found a job soon, baked beans would remain their staple diet.

  If only she could make Thomas understand, without destroying his illusions of his perfect father, she’d had no choice but to shift somewhere less expensive.

  ****

  Luke rubbed his chin. His plan hadn’t been met with resounding approval from his uncle and aunt. Not that he’d expected anything else.

  After outlining the basic idea, his uncle appeared the more likely of the two to offer some eventual support. Marcia’s skeptical expression spoke volumes. Work on Rod, then. “We can always hire someone to help you, Rod. We could—”

  “The farm can’t run to employing someone else, Luke. Not with today’s low lamb prices. It’s a struggle supporting two families. We can’t stretch to anything more.”

  “I have money, Rod. I can—”

  Luke’s uncle shook his head. “There’s hardly enough work for two, anyway—except during the lambing. And from what you’re saying, you’ll still give me a hand now and then?”

  Luke nodded. While Rod wasn’t saying much, Luke sensed a certain relief in the older man’s reception to his plans. He’d probably hated having a disinterested, ham-fisted Luke in his way these past months. “We’ll employ someone for a few months during lambing, though.”

  “A few weeks will be long enough,” Rod agreed.

  Luke grinned. “I figured we could do the maintenance work around the same time. Make use of that extra pair of hands.”

  Rod chuckled.

  Luke eyed the other man intently, looking for any signs of unease. “The farm’s not going to suffer without those paddocks up by the bush line?”

  Rod shook his head. “They’re not very productive. We’d planned to reseed and fertilize them over a couple more years, build up the growth.” He scratched his chin. “We’ll still be able to graze them around your tracks and things though, won’t we?”

  Luke leaned back in his seat. “I hadn’t considered that. Yeah, I guess we can. Not if we have people using them, of course, but during slack periods, sure.”

  For the first time Marcia spoke. She’d been sitting with them at the kitchen table listening but not taking part in the conversation. “I think you’ll be having a lot of ‘slack periods,’ as you call them.”

  Luke’s back stiffened. “You don’t think I can develop something popular?”

  “It’s no reflection on you, Luke.” She patted his hand. “However you are forgetting where we live. We’re not near a bustling city. In this sparse population who do you imagine will clamber to visit this adventure park of yours?”

  For the first time since leaving his friend’s resort, doubts surfaced to plague Luke again. “I got the impression Jase McEwan considered it a worthwhile idea.” He needed to justify this to himself as well as his family. “I’m meeting with him again next week with more specific plans. If the hotel will tout the park—”

  “That’s a considerable ‘if.’ I doubt their clientele consists of many young, adventurous types. I think they have more sedate guests wanting to take in the countryside of the Southern Scenic Route.”

  Luke wasn’t about to let panic set in. “There are always the locals around here, and people living in Invercargill, Gore—”

  “I’m sure locals will see what it’s all about, but visit every week?” She clicked her tongue and shook her head. “I think you’ll be throwing money away. Money that could be better spent securing a future for the children.”

  Luke sighed. Marcia was so like her sister, his mother. She’d never been willing to spend an unnecessary cent either. “You don’t need to worry about the future, my darling.” He stretched across the table and smacked a noisy kiss on her cheek—one she immediately wiped away with mock disgust. “Our future is secure, I promise you.”

  Worry still lined his aunt’s face. The wrinkle of her brow and the way she kept pinching at the skin under her chin warned him. She needed more than obscure words to relieve that worry.

  “The children’s formative years are financially covered. I’ve set up a trust fund that’ll see them up through university, if they choose that route. After that they’d better be ready to find their own way in the world. I don’t want them thinking they can sit back and do nothing.”

  His face heated as he realized that must be exactly what everyone considered he did. What I do with my life has nothing to do with anyone else; I’m hurting no-one. I have no responsibilities. He slumped in his chair. Of course that had changed now. He could never go back to living his old life, the life he loved.

  That’s the whole idea of this park, to give something of that life back to me. He swallowed the bitter flavor of disappointment and concentrated on relieving his aunt’s concern.

  “Nothing’s going to happen, Marcia. Even if the park idea falls flat on its face, the farm is safe. I talked to the solicitor and the bank soon after the funeral, they talked me out of paying off the mortgage completely, but I got rid of most of it.”

  Warmth spread through him as astonishment registered on both the faces in front of him.

  “Even if lamb and wool prices drop further, or Rod needs a new tractor or something in the near future, the farm will cope.”

  “You had that sort of money at your disposal?” Rod gasped. He obviously knew the extent of their mortgage. He’d worked this land since leaving school. That’s how he’d met Marcia—when she’d come to visit her sister. Luke remembered the fuss of their wedding, his mother’s joy at having her little sister living close instead of in Welling
ton.

  “That and more if we need it,” Luke reluctantly admitted. While his finances were his own business, he wanted—no needed—Rod and Marcia to feel secure.

  “I need you guys more than you can know, Rod.” He looked the older man straight in the eye. “You must have already guessed how much farming grates with me. I’ve tried to dredge up some interest but it’s just not me. I’ll lend a hand, but you’re in charge of all decisions. I want to continue the arrangement you and Dad had worked out, but now with you in total control. I know you’ve been running the place since Gordon died, but we need to formalize this, with a much higher financial reward for you.”

  “I don’t need more money, lad. I receive a share of any profits along with my wages, that’s enough for me.”

  “Nonetheless, from today onward, you’re going to start drawing what Gordon drew as his wages. I don’t do anything to earn any of that, and I can keep me and the kids above the breadline.”

  Rod sagged in his chair, glassy eyes focused on Luke. “But…but…”

  Luke collected the coffee jug from the bench and topped up their drinks.

  “Of course, you realize things would have been different if you’d vetoed my adventure park project, or refused to let me use those paddocks?” he teased.

  This drew a weak chuckle from his uncle.

  Luke stopped behind Marcia. “As for you, old girl…” He grinned at his aunt, eighteen years older than himself. “Are you sure you’re coping with Jake and Amy? It’s a long time since you had little kids around you every day.”

  “Why, you cheeky sod.” She swiped a slap at his arm, one he sprightly avoided followed by a laugh. “I’m not decrepit yet. My three were much more trouble than these two little souls. And anyway, it isn’t so long since they left home either.”

  Luke slid into his seat, looking from Marcia to Rod and back again. Thankfully, a warm relationship had developed between the three of them since Luke had arrived back at the farm. But to go ahead with his project, he needed their support, and they needed reassurance their future was not in jeopardy.