Head First (Quinn Brothers Book 1) Page 4

  The Quinn family farmhouse stood at the top of a hill with a view that stretched for miles. The driveway ended in a mini cul-de-sac, large enough for multiple farm vehicles to park. Alexis stepped out of her car into the bright sunshine and turned to take in the view. There were rolling hills as far as the eye could see, most of it farmland. She could clearly see Bert’s—no, her own—farmhouse, standing in its little cluster of trees down the valley. And there was the winding road that led to the small town center.

  Turning back to the farmhouse in front of her, Alexis took a deep breath as she realized the sheer size of it. It was humongous. She could see the house from her own kitchen of course, but it was hidden slightly from view by the trees and it had looked so much smaller from down in the valley.

  A two-story home, its large glass windows and wrap-around balcony were built to make the most of the view. The façade looked as though it had been re-done recently, with hints of the old heritage building underneath the modern extensions. With immaculate flower gardens framing the solid wood double-door with intricate detailing on the handles, and floor to ceiling glass window features on either side, it would not have looked out of place on the cover of any upscale home and garden magazine.

  She knocked on the door with some trepidation. Mason’s family must have some serious money behind them to afford a place as big as this, even in New Zealand. She hated to think what it would cost in New York. Only a Silicon Valley billionaire would be able to afford to live in such a mansion.

  An older woman, dressed simply but elegantly in jeans, buttoned shirt and sweater, greeted her warmly. “You must be our new neighbor, Old Bert’s granddaughter. I’m Sharon. Come on in. We’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

  Sharon ushered her inside, through a large foyer with gleaming red-gold polished wood floors, and into a massive lounge. In one corner of it stood a huge stone fireplace where a roaring fire was blazing, with couches clustered around it.

  “My husband, Ken. Our oldest, Mason, you know already. And Georgia, our youngest. We have three other boys, but they are scattered around the world right now.”

  Alexis shook hands with Ken, an older version of his son, still handsome in a weather-beaten way, and smiled at Georgia. “Mason told me how you and he want to buy grandfather’s farm. I thought from the way that he spoke that you were his wife, not his sister.”

  Georgia, a slightly sulky-looking young woman, gave her a disdainful look. “As if.”

  A glass of wine later, the five of them were seated around a large dining table and Sharon was passing around a platter loaded with steaming slices of roast lamb to the table, while Ken passed a similar platter of vegetables in the opposite direction. Alexis piled her plate high with food, and then poured over a liberal amount of mint sauce and gravy, earning her an approving look from Sharon. Her hunger had dramatically increased with the newly active lifestyle. She figured that she deserved to ease up on her diet too.

  Alexis took a deep breath. “This smells divine.” Then she took her first bite. “Mmmmm, and tastes even better.”

  “It’s one of last season’s lambs, with vegetables from the garden. And I made the mint sauce last summer. Mint grows like a weed around here. I’m always pulling it out of the vege patch.”

  “It’s the best food I’ve ever tasted,” Alexis said truthfully. The lamb was tender and perfectly cooked, with just a smidge of pink in the middle, while the roast vegetables were golden and crispy, with just a hint of caramelization.

  For the next few minutes all conversation halted as they dug into their plates of food with enthusiasm.

  Sharon eventually broke the silence. “Are you enjoying your holiday in New Zealand?”

  Alexis nodded. “It’s a beautiful part of the world, and it’s been interesting learning a bit about sheep farming, too.” She might have been stretching the truth a little bit but wanted to be as positive about her situation as she could, especially in front of strangers. “Mom never really talked about her childhood here, so I didn’t know what to expect. Living in New York is about as far away from this as you can imagine. It must’ve been quite a culture shock for her when she moved.”

  “I grew up in Christchurch, which is hardly New York, but I can’t imagine living in a city now,” Sharon said. “All that concrete. The noise. The traffic. I only bother visiting when I want to go shopping for something special.”

  “I don’t know how your mother moved away from here,” Mason added. “Leaving all this behind?” He gestured with his fork at the view of tussocky hills out the window. “It must have broken her heart.”

  “I could never live in a city,” Georgia proclaimed. “I’ve lived here all my life and I would never want to go anywhere else.”

  Mason shook his head. “I’d be happy to go, as long as I could come home again. This place is where my heart is. I’m not sure I could be truly happy living anywhere else.”

  Alexis looked from one to the other. She had not realized before how much the land was part of their lives; how they would miss it if they had to leave it, almost as if it were a limb that had been chopped off. It was funny, but she didn’t feel the same way about New York. “New York would be a fun place to visit if you ever wanted a change,” she mentioned, trying out in her own mind how much she really loved the city itself, and how much it was just the idea of the city that attracted her. “Sure, it’s noisy and busy and dirty, but it’s also vibrant and exciting. There’s always something going on there.”

  Georgia looked as if she had sucked on a lemon. “Why would I want a change? I have everything I want right here.”

  “That’s what I thought about New York before I came here.”

  Mason took a sip from his water glass. “Does that mean that you are planning to stay?”

  “My life is in New York. I always thought I would never want to leave. But now?” She rested her knife and fork on her plate and shrugged. She wasn’t sure what she thought. “Never say never.”

  Mason didn’t look terribly happy at her answer, and Georgia fairly scowled.

  Alexis hurriedly changed the subject. “Which reminds me, I need to head off into town tomorrow to return my rental car. I’ve had it for a week, and it’s not been much use here. I was going to buy a cheap truck so I can get around the farm on my own, and not have to rely on the farm manager to take me places. Where would you recommend?”

  Ken raised his head from his plate. “Have you kept Nate on to manage the place?”

  “For the moment. I don’t know enough about what I’m doing to know whether he’s doing a good job or not.”

  “You want to watch out with Nate.”

  “I think I found that out the hard way,” she confessed, and she launched into the story of her and the sheep.

  Ken and Sharon laughed genially at her story, while Georgia smirked less good-naturedly. “That would be Nate,” Ken agreed. “He’s got a mean streak a mile wide.”

  “And a nasty temper,” Sharon agreed. “Old Bert was the only one around here who would put up with him. And that’s only because his temper was even worse.” Then, realizing what she had said, she clapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide in horror. “Oh goodness, I’m so sorry, Alexis. I forgot he was your grandfather. I never should have said such a thing.”

  Alexis waved the apology away. “I never knew him. All I know is that Mom left his house as soon as she could and vowed she would never go back.”

  “I knew your mother back when she was a girl,” Ken said. “We were at school together, though she was a few years younger than me. Old Bert was a piece of work even back then, and he only got worse once she left.”

  “Ken…” Sharon said in a warning tone. “Alexis doesn’t need to hear past history about her family. What’s done is done.”

  “That was the best meal I think I have ever eaten,” Alexis said loudly, changing the topic again to avoid any possibility of a quarrel. “Thank you so much for inviting me.”

  “You a
re very welcome,” Sharon said. “It’s nice to have company at the dinner table, and we are neighbors now, so you are always welcome.”

  “Not neighbors for long, I hope,” Georgia muttered under her breath.

  Alexis pretended she didn’t hear, but caught Mason digging his elbow into his sister’s side. “Georgia.”

  Even Sharon frowned at her daughter’s rudeness.

  “It’s just as well it was Mum’s turn to cook tonight,” Mason added. “That way you were sure of being served a decent meal.”

  Ken gave him a mock glare. “I can cook perfectly well, thank you. As long as it’s lasagna.”

  “As can you, too, Mason,” Sharon added. “You made a very nice casserole yesterday.”

  Alexis turned to Georgia, determined to break through the young woman’s prickly shell if she could. “And what’s your specialty.”

  To her dismay, Georgia turned pink. “I don’t cook much.”

  “For which we are all immensely grateful,” Ken added.

  “I’m not thaaaaat bad,” Georgia protested.

  “Remember the time you barbecued pork chops outside? And forgot about them until the smoke alarm went off? We never did get all the soot marks off the side of the house.”

  “The cake you made for Mum’s birthday last year? The one that turned out like a pancake?”

  “Curdled macaroni cheese? That was a beaut.”

  “The corn bread that you put a tablespoon of salt in? Not a teaspoon? Even Wally, our pet sheep, wouldn’t eat that one.”

  “The bread pudding that was denser than lead, with the texture of glue?”

  Georgia threw down her knife and fork. “Enough already. So, I’m not a great cook. We can’t all be perfect. I suppose you,” she sneered at Alexis, “are a fabulous cook, too.”

  “I enjoy eating,” Alexis said tactfully. Because, yeah, she was a good cook, and proud of it. “And my roommate always worked long hours, so if I wanted to eat, I had to cook it.”

  Georgia wasn’t about to let the subject drop. “I thought Americans only eat Taco Bell and McDonald’s.”

  “About that rental car of yours,” Mason broke in. “I’ve got to head out to Twizel tomorrow. We can go together, if you like, and I can show you where to get a decent runabout that will cope with the farm tracks.”

  “That would be great, thanks. You’d have a better idea than I do what would work for here.”

  “And you could buy a new oven for Old Bert’s place in town, too. I’d hate for you to burn the house down using that old coal range. I want to buy the place off you, after all. It wouldn’t be quite so useful if the house were a smoking ruin.”

  “We want to buy the place off you,” Georgia corrected him.

  “In that case, in order to safeguard your proposed investment, I accept gladly,” Alexis said. “Are you coming, too?” she asked, turning to Georgia. “After all, it’s a joint investment you are safeguarding. It’s in your best interest to get me a reliable stove, too.”

  Georgia shook her head, looking surprised and not a little pleased to be asked. “I’ve got to take one of the mares off to be shod. She lost a shoe last week and can’t be ridden ‘til it’s fixed.”

  “Next time?” Alexis asked hopefully. With Phoebe so far away, she was really starved for female company. She’d dearly like to make a friend of Georgia if she could. At least a pleasant acquaintance, even if they didn’t have enough in common to become BFFs.

  Georgia gave a noncommittal answer, and Alexis had to be satisfied with that.

  Chapter Three

  Mason turned up at Bert’s cottage bang on eight in the morning. The sun was well up into the sky and the sky was bright blue and free of clouds for as far as you could see. The air still had the crisp coldness of a winter’s morning, but the sun was already warming the frosted paddocks.

  Alexis, who was still getting used to the early hours that everyone else here kept, had managed to crawl out of bed, wrap herself in a dressing gown and boil the kettle to make coffee, but hadn’t even had time to take her first sip. When the knock came, she had a momentary panic and hastily pulled her hair up into a ponytail to try and tidy it.

  She hadn’t even looked in the mirror yet that morning and hoped to heavens that Mason wasn’t about to see her with food in her teeth. She had brushed them of course the night before, but it would be just her luck that she’d missed one piece of broccoli and farm boy would spot it.

  He raised one eyebrow at the sight of her in her dressing gown. “Have I just woken you up?” His tone was only just slightly mocking.

  She turned away, almost letting herself get embarrassed, but deciding that she didn’t care what he thought of her. “In New York, if someone says they’ll be there at eight they are usually there at eight thirty,” she retorted.

  She hurried back into the kitchen, and he kicked off his boots and followed, before hesitating and calling down the hallway after her. “I take it I’m allowed inside this time? You’ve been to my house after all.”

  “Yes, you can come in,” she said a bit grumpily, “but give me another forty-five minutes to get ready.”

  “Do I have a choice?” He rolled his eyes at her but sat down without complaining. “As long as I can have some of that coffee. I’ve been up since four but haven’t had one yet.” He did indeed look like he had been up working for a while. His bare legs had bits of grass on them and he smelled pleasantly of grass and the outdoors.

  She poured him a cup of coffee, despite the rush of annoyance she felt at him pointing out to her that she had been slacking off while he worked since before sunrise. He probably thought she had no business here at all, trying to run a farm when she could barely roll herself out of bed before eight. She promised herself that tomorrow she would be up earlier. By six in the morning, at least. Or six thirty. Maybe not 4 a.m. just yet. That would come in time.

  She left him in the kitchen, sitting reclined at her kitchen table with his black coffee, looking far too comfortable with himself. He had the same self-assuredness that James had, but in a different way. While James had been all tailored suits and styled hair, Mason wore his shorts and woolen sweater, day-old stubble and messy hair with just as much confidence.

  She showered quickly, and skipped washing and blow-drying her hair completely, a step that was usually concreted into her morning routine. Instead she brushed it and pulled it back into a slightly neater ponytail than earlier. She also skipped her three-step moisturizing routine, quickly rubbing in some tinted moisturizer and hoping that this would make her skin look great but not draw attention to the fact she was trying.

  Her face still felt naked without her usual makeup, and she felt much too exposed. Knowing that Mason was waiting for her downstairs made her even more self-conscious.

  A quick glance in the mirror did little to help her confidence, so she took up an eyebrow pencil and outlined her brows, so at least there was one feature of her face that looked put together. She had been thinking about getting the semi-permanent eyebrow tattoo that so many celebrities were raving about and had never quite got around to it. It would have to wait until she was back home in New York now. It was unlikely she’d be able to get that done in Twizel.

  Finally, she brushed her teeth and threw on a pair of jeans and a cashmere sweater and wrapped a thick scarf around her neck.

  Her jeans had been a last-minute decision to pack, but she was thankful that she had added them to her bag. The slacks and tailored skirts she usually wore had been repacked and not touched since the day she had first arrived at the farmhouse.

  By the time she returned downstairs, Mason had finished nearly the whole pot of coffee.

  “Sorry,” he said sheepishly, as she looked disconsolately at the empty pot. She’d been hoping to quickly swill down another cup before they left. “I can shout you one in town though. There’s a good coffee shop close to the car dealership.”

  Of course it would be close—the town center was probably only one street w
ide, she thought, but kept her mouth shut.

  He hopped into the passenger seat of her rental, slightly surprising her, as she had expected him to insist on driving, just like James always had. She quickly retracted the hand that was already holding out the car keys for him to drive. “I’ll navigate, you drive,” he said, as he set the seat back to give extra room for his long legs.

  Alexis didn’t argue, but she wasn’t sure how she felt being in such close quarters with him. After all, she had made it here in one piece herself, and he was probably going to try and make an offer on the farm again that she’d have to politely avoid answering.

  The drive went quickly however, and their conversation flowed easily with no mention of Mason’s desire to buy her property. He told her about the town—“there’s about twelve hundred residents here now, give or take—” and “—I’ve grown up here all my life, it’s small but I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.”

  He talked about the farm with pride, and the town with fondness. In the close quarters of the car, she couldn’t help noticing that he smelled like fresh-cut grass mixed with a slightly fruity scent that could be his shower gel.

  Oh no, why was she thinking about him in the shower?

  Once they had dropped the car to the rental store, Mason steered her towards the local café. “I owe you a coffee,” he explained.

  “You sure you’re not just a caffeine addict?”

  “Guilty as charged. And the coffee here is good.”

  The teenage barista behind the counter took Mason’s order with her best flirty smile and tossed her hair at him. “Soy flat white, decaf, for me,” Alexis added, and got the barest hint of an acknowledgement before the barista turned back to try to continue flirting with an oblivious Mason.

  The barista needed a lesson in good customer service. She shot a dark look at the young woman as they got their coffees and turned to walk out again.

  “There are two car dealerships in town,” he declared, sipping his coffee and pointing down the street. “That’s Old Ferg’s place—it’s a run-down old place and he only sells trash, if you ask me. It’s where Mum and Dad always shopped for us boys. Perfect if you want to buy your teenage son a trashy car ‘cos he’s going to crash it anyway. But I figure you’re a better driver than that and could do with something a bit nicer.”