Excerpt of Christmas Gift: A Family by Barbara Hannay

CHRISTMAS EVE. Oh, joy! For Jo Berry it meant sitting behind a shop counter in Bindi Creek, staring out through the dusty front window at the heat haze shimmering on the almost empty main street, and trying not to think about all the fabulous parties she was missing back in the city.

She was especially trying not to think about the office party tonight. Mind you, she had a feeling things might get out of hand. Her friend, Renee, was determined to nail a big career boost by impressing the boss but, apart from buying something clingy and skimpy to wear, her idea of pitching for a promotion usually involved clearing her desk of sharp objects.

Jo still clung to the belief that a girl could smash her way through the glass ceiling via non-stop slog and professionalism, without the aid of deep cleavage, or tying the boss up with tinsel.

Still, she would have liked to be in Brisbane tonight. She enjoyed her friends' company and it was great fun to be on the fringes of an occasional outrageous party.

It wasn't her friends' wild antics that had stopped her from partying in the city. Every Christmas she took her annual leave and travelled home to help out in her family's shop.

And no, she wasn't a goody two-shoes, but honestly, what else could a girl do when she had a dad on an invalid pension and a mum who was run off her feet trying to play Santa Claus to half a dozen children while preparing Christmas dinner, plus running Bindi Creek's only general store during the pre-Christmas rush?

Not that anyone actually rushed in Bindi Creek. At least...no one usually rushed. Nothing exciting happened.

And yet...right now there was someone in a very great hurry.

From her perch on a stool behind the counter, Jo watched with interest as a black four-wheel drive scorched down the street, screeched to an abrupt and noisy halt in the middle of the road and then veered sharply to park on the wrong side of the road — directly outside the shop.

A lanky dark-haired stranger jumped out. A very handsome, lanky dark-haired stranger.

Oh, wow! He was quite possibly the most gorgeous man Jo had ever seen, not counting movie stars, Olympic athletes or European princes in her favourite celebrity magazines.

In spite of the layer of dust that covered his vehicle and the intense, sweltering December heat, he was dressed in city clothes — tailored camel-coloured trousers and a white business shirt, although as a concession to the heat his shirt was open at the neck and his long sleeves were rolled back to his elbows to reveal lightly tanned, muscular forearms.

Jo slid from her stool and tucked a wing of brown hair behind one ear as she stood waiting for the ping of the bell over the shop door. Please, please come in, you gorgeous thing.

But the newcomer lingered on the footpath, studying her mum's window display.

Jo couldn't help staring at him. As he stood with his wide shoulders relaxed and his hands resting lightly on his lean hips, she decided there was a certain elegant charm in the way his soft dark hair had been ruffled and messed into spikes. And there was definite appeal in the very masculine way he rubbed his lightly stubbled jaw as he studied her mother's dreadful tinsel-draped arrangement of tinned plum puddings, boxes of shortbread and packets of chocolate-covered sultanas.

He lifted his gaze and peered inside the shop and, before Jo could duck, his eyes — light blue or green, she couldn't be sure — met hers. Darn, he'd caught her staring.

She felt her cheeks grow hot as he stared back. Then he smiled. But it was rather a stiff smile and she sensed instantly that he was searching for something. By the time he entered the shop her curiosity was fully aroused.

"Good afternoon," she said warmly. He was close enough now for her to see that his eyes were green rather than blue and fringed by the blackest of lashes. 'Can I help you?"

This time his smile was of the slightly crooked variety, the kind that should come with a health warning about dangers to women.

"I'll just look around for a moment," he said, casting a doubtful glance at the bags of sugar and flour and the shelves of tinned food that filled the store.

As soon as he spoke Jo realised he was English. His voice was deep and rich — refined and mellow — reminding her of actors in Jane Austen movies and men who lived in stately homes surrounded by green acres of parkland and edged by forest.

"Look around as much as you like," she said, trying to sound casual, as if divine Englishmen were a regular part of life in Bindi Creek. And then, because he wasn't a local, she added, "Just sing out if I can be of any help."

At times like this, when the shop wasn't busy, she usually amused herself by trying to guess what a customer might buy. What was this guy after? Engine oil? Shaving cream? Condoms?

From the far side of the shop he called, "Do you have any dolls? Perhaps a baby doll?"

Good grief. "I want the best possible gift for a little girl." It was a command rather than a request. "Little girls still play with dolls, don't they?"

"Some of them do. But I'm sorry, we don't have any dolls here."

He frowned. "You must have little tea sets? Or perhaps a music box?"

In a general store in the middle of the outback? Where did he think he was? A toy shop? "Sorry, we don't have anything like that."

"Nothing suitable at all?"

Think, Jo, think... She walked towards him along the aisles, checking the shelves as critically as he had. Food, household items and pet supplies, a few basic hardware products, a tiny collection of paperback novels... "I assume you're looking for a Christmas present?"

"Yes, for a little girl. She's five years old." It was the same age as her little sister, Tilly. Jo shook her head. "I'm afraid you're not going to have much luck here."

She pointed to the old-fashioned glass jars on the counter. "We have some fancy sweets and chocolates especially for Christmas."

"I guess they might do." He groaned and ran long fingers through his ruffled hair. Jo caught the glint of gold.

"I'd better get something as a fallback." He began to pick up items at random — throw-away pens, Christmas decorations, a wooden ruler and a school notebook.

Thinking of the beautiful baby doll with a complete change of clothes that she'd bought in Brisbane for Tilly, Jo decided he definitely needed help. But given their limited stock it wasn't going to be easy.

How intriguing... What was this man doing out here in the middle of nowhere?

"How far are you travelling?" she asked. 'To Agate Downs."

"Oh, I know that property. The Martens' place. It's not far. So you're looking for a present for the little girl they're caring for, are you?"

He looked startled. "You know her?" He moved closer, his expression more intense.

"Ivy? This is a small town. Sure, I've met her. Do you know what she likes?"

His throat worked. "No, I've never met her."

"She's a lovely little thing." Jo was being totally honest. She'd been quite smitten by the little girl. She had the most exquisite face Jo had ever seen on a child and her prettiness was all the more striking because it contrasted so strongly with the ugly scars on her arm. The poor little mite had been terribly burned in an accident a few years ago. "Ivy's been in here to shop with Ellen Marten a couple of times this week."

"Really?"

The eagerness in his voice and his eyes was perplexing. Jo looked at him sharply. Was she getting carried away or was there a resemblance between this man and the child? Ivy's hair was dark and her eyes were clear green like his.

What was going on? Could he be Ivy's father? Jo didn't like to be too nosy, so she hadn't asked the Martens about Ivy's parents, but she'd heard rumours about a tragedy and there'd actually been talk about an estranged father coming to claim her.

Her customer sighed and gave a little shake of his head. "I'd completely forgotten that a little girl at Christmas needs a present."

She felt a rush of sympathy. Come on, Jo, do something to help.

"Would you like some of these?" she asked, lifting the lid on a huge jar of chocolates wrapped in red, silver and gold foil. "Ivy's quite partial to them." Just yesterday she'd slipped the little girl a chocolate when Ellen Marten wasn't looking and she'd been rewarded by a beaming smile.

"I'll take the lot," he said, looking exceptionally pleased. "And I'll have a couple of tins of the short- bread and a bag of those nuts."

Jo lifted the metal scoop and said, "Perhaps I could gift wrap these things to make them look a little more festive?"

She was rewarded by another of his dangerous smiles. "That would be wonderful."

Leaning one hip against the counter, he folded his arms across his chest and watched her as she began to wrap his purchases in red sparkly paper. She felt self-conscious as his green eyes watched her hands at work, cutting and folding paper, reaching for sticky tape and then measuring lengths of shiny silver and gold ribbon.

If it had been any other customer she would have chattered away, but she was too absorbed by the mystery of his connection with Ivy.

He didn't seem in a hurry so she took her time making the gifts as pretty as she could, adding a sprinkle of glitter and a tiny white fluffy snowman on the chocolates.

"Thank you so much, that's terrific." He reached into his back pocket for his wallet, extracted several notes and held them out.

She noticed the glint of gold again. He was wearing a signet ring, engraved with a crest and worn on his little finger.

"You will charge extra for all the trouble you've gone to, won't you?" he said.

"Not when it's Christmas." She sent him a quick smile as she handed him his change.

She expected him to leave then, but he continued to stand there, looking at the bright parcels on the counter with a long distance look in his eyes, as if he were lost in thought.