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and headed for the cottage. Stepping inside, he was hit by stifling heat. Hannah knelt beside the hearth, using a large wooden spoon to stir a pot of stew. Damp hair plastered itself to her moist face. She smiled, replaced the lid, and moved the pot back over the fire. “You’re home just in time.” Moving to John, she stood on tiptoe and planted a kiss on his cheek. “You look hot.”
    “I am. And it’s stifling in here. Wouldn’t it have been wiser to build a fire outdoors?”
    A wounded expression touched Hannah’s eyes. Immediately John wished he could take back the words.
    “I’m not good at outdoor cooking.”
    “It’s fine, luv, really. The stew smells good and I’m starved.” He studied her, wearing a half smile. “Would you mind if we ate on the front steps?”
    Hannah grinned. “That’s a fine idea. Perhaps there’ll be a breeze.” Using the back of her hand, she wiped a strand of hair off her face. “I’ll spoon us each a bowl. Then we’ll sit and talk.” She moved to the cupboard and took down two wooden bowls. “I daresay, I’ve been watching for you for more than an hour. I can scarcely wait to hear about the property.”
    John removed his hat and hung it on a wooden peg near the door. “And I want to tell you about it.” He moved to the porch, dipped water out of a wooden cask and drank a ladle-ful, refilled it, and drank it down as well, and then sat on the top step.
    Hannah emerged with the bowls of stew, and after handing him one, she sat beside him. Closing her eyes, she blew out a breath. “This is better. Cooler.” She glanced about. “But a bit embarrassing. Everyone will know how foolish I’ve been, building a fire on such a hot day.”
    “They don’t care a whit about where you cook.” John leaned close and kissed her temple.
    “I’ve never cooked well outdoors. I’m quite clumsy at it. In London it was rarely too hot to use the hearth. Perhaps Lydia will help me . . . again.” She took a bite of stew. “I suppose I could have made cold meat sandwiches.”
    “Hannah. Stop. This is fine. I love your stew. And the fire will die down.”
    “It’ll take hours.”
    John took a bite and chewed. “Delicious. Much better than a sandwich.”
    Hannah set her spoon in her bowl and focused on John. “All right. Tell me all about it.”
    “Tell you about what?” John teased.
    “The land.”
    He smiled. “It’s exactly what we’ve been hoping for. It’s ours if we want it.”
    Hannah’s eyes widened. “Just like that?”
    “We’ll have to file, but Murphy Connor was sure no one else had put in for it yet.” He smiled broadly. “You’ll love it. It’s grand. Good grazing and plenty of timber for building. And a perfect spot for a house near the river.” John remembered the man he’d seen hiding in the deep grasses on the banks of Parramatta, and the perfect spot seemed less perfect.
    “Really? It’s just what we want, then?”
    “It is indeed. With irrigation from the river, we can have a garden, and when I’ve got our house built, I’ll see to it that we have a pump in the kitchen.” He sat up straighter and looked out, seeing in his mind what he’d seen that day. “Connor took me to look at the adjoining piece. There’s a hillside that overlooks a great deal of the property—you can see for miles—it’s quite scenic. I thought perhaps we could picnic there.”
    “I can’t wait to see it. But, John, we don’t know if we’ll ever get the other piece of property.”
    “We will. I’m determined to have it.”
    Hannah rested a hand on John’s arm. “Then I’m sure it will happen.”
    “If Mr. Atherton can spare me, we’ll go tomorrow. Will you be needed in the house?”
    “I’m sure everything will be fine without me. Deidre’s quite proficient. I might as well have been gone today.”
    “You don’t sound happy about it.”
    “Deidre seems to be good at everything.”
    “And that’s bad, eh?” John grinned.
    “No. Of course not.