Читать книгу The Girl from Honeysuckle Farm / One Dance with the Cowboy: The Girl from Honeysuckle Farm / One Dance with the Cowboy - DONNA ALWARD, Donna Alward - Страница 10

PHINN sat on the paddock rail around six weeks later, keeping an eye on Ruby, who’d had a bout of being unwell, and reflecting on how Broadlands Hall now seemed to be quite like home. She knew more of the layout now. Knew where Ty’s study was—the place where he always spent some time when he was there.

Most of the rooms had been smartened up, some replastered and redecorated. The room next for redecoration was the music room—the room in which she had often sat listening with Mr Caldicott while her father played on his grand piano. The music room door was occasionally left open, when either Wendy or Valerie, who came up from the village to clean, were in there, giving the room a dusting and an airing. Apparently the piano had been left behind when all Mr Caldicott’s other furniture had been removed. Presumably Ty had come to some arrangement with him about it.

Phinn patted Ruby’s neck and talked nothings to her while at the same time she reminded herself that she must not allow herself to become too comfortable here. In another four or so months, probably sooner if she were to get anything established for Ruby, she would have to begin looking for a new home for the two of them.

But meantime how good it was to not have that worry hanging over her head as being immediate. What was immediate, however, was the vet’s bill that was mounting up. Last month’s pay cheque had already gone, and the cheque Ty had left on Grandmother Hawkins’ table for her to find a couple of weeks ago was mostly owed to Kit Peverill.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Kit had told her when she had settled his last veterinary bill. ‘There’s no rush. Pay me as you can.’

He was kind, was Kit, and, having assumed she had come to the Hall to work in the estate office, he had called to see Ruby as soon as he could when Phinn had phoned. She could not bear to think of Ruby in pain, but Kit had assured her that, though Ruby suffered some discomfort, she was not in actual pain, and that hopefully her sudden loss of appetite would pick up again.

Kit had been kind enough to organise some special food for Ruby, and to Phinn’s surprise Geraldine Walton had arrived one day with a load of straw. Ash had been off on one of his ‘walk-abouts’ that day. But soon after that Geraldine had—again to Phinn’s surprise—telephoned to say she had a surfeit of hay, and that if Ash was available perhaps he would drive over in the pick-up and collect it.

Having discovered that Ash was at his best when occupied, Phinn had asked him if he would mind. ‘Can’t you manage without it?’ he had enquired, clearly reluctant.

‘Yes, of course I can,’ she’d replied with a smile. ‘I shouldn’t have asked you.’

He had been immediately contrite. ‘Yes, you should. Sorry, Phinn, I’m not fit company these days. Of course I’ll go.’ Muttering, ‘With luck I shall miss seeing the wretched woman,’ he went on his way.

From that Phinn gleaned that it was not so much the errand he was objecting to, but the fact that he did not want any contact with the owner of the riding school and stables. Which gave her cause to wonder if it was just that he had taken an aversion to Geraldine. Or was he, despite himself, attracted to her and a little afraid of her because of what another woman with her colouring had done to him?

Phinn had kept him company as much as she could, though very often she knew that he wanted to be on his own. At other times she had walked miles with him all over the estate lands.

She had talked with him, stayed silent when need be, and when he had mentioned that he quite liked drawing she had several times taken him sketching down by the trout stream. Which had been a little painful to her, because it was there that her father had taught her to sketch.

She had overcome her sadness of spirit when it had seemed to her that Ash appeared to be less stressful and a shade more content when he lost himself as he concentrated on the sketch he was creating.

But Ash was very often quite down, so that sometimes she would wonder if her being there made any difference to him at all. A point she had put to Ty only a week ago. Cutting her nose off it might have been, had he agreed with her and suggested that he would not hold her to their six-month agreement. But it was nothing of the sort!

‘Of course you’ve made a difference,’ Ty assured her. ‘Apart from the fact I feel I can get back to my work without being too concerned over him, there is a definite improvement from the way he was.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘I’m sure,’ he replied, and had meant it. ‘Surely you’ve noticed that he’s taking more of an interest in the estate these days? He was telling me on the phone only the other day how you had both met with some forester—Sam…?’

‘Sam Turner,’ she filled in. ‘I was at school with his son Sammy. Sammy’s followed in his father’s footsteps.’ And then, getting carried away, ‘Ash and I walked the whole of Pixie End Wood with Sam and Sammy…’ She halted. ‘But you probably know that from Ash.’

Ty hadn’t answered that, but asked, ‘Is there anybody you don’t know?’

For the weirdest moment she felt like saying, I don’t know you. Weird or what? Anybody would think that she wanted to know him—better. ‘I was brung up around here,’ she replied impishly—and felt Ty’s steady grey glance on her.

‘And a more fully rounded “brung-up” female I’ve never met,’ he commented quietly.

‘If I could decide whether that was a compliment or not, I might thank you for it,’ she replied.

‘It’s a compliment,’ he informed her, and she had gone about her business wondering about the other women of his acquaintance.

By ‘fully rounded’ she knew he had not been talking about her figure—which if anything, save for a bosom to be proud of, she had always thought a little on the lean side. So were his London and ‘other capitals’ women not so generally ‘fully rounded’? And was being ‘fully rounded’ a good thing, or a bad thing? Phinn had given it up when she’d recalled that he had said that it was a compliment.

But now, sitting on the rail mulling over the events of these past weeks, she reflected that Ty, having employed her so that he could go about his business, seemed to come home to Broadlands far more frequently than she had thought he would. Though it was true that here it was Friday, and he had not been home at all this week.

Phinn felt the most peculiar sensation in her insides as she wondered, today being Friday, if Ty would come home tonight? Perhaps he might stay the whole weekend? He didn’t always. Some filly up in London, her father would have said.

But she did not want to think about Ty and his London fillies. Phinn titled her head a fraction and looked to Ruby, who was watching her. ‘Hello, my darling Rubes,’ she said softly, and asked, ‘What do you say to an apple if I ask Mrs Starkey for one?’

Mrs Starkey was continuing to mother her, and Phinn had to admit she did not object to it. Occasionally she would sit and share a pot of tea with the housekeeper, and Phinn would enquire after Mrs Starkey’s son, John, and hear of his latest doings, and then go on to talk of the various other people Phinn had grown up knowing.

Bearing in mind her own mother had taken up golf, and was more often out than in, Phinn had made contact with her to let her know of her move. After her mother’s third-degree questioning Phinn had ended the call with her mother’s blessing.

About to leave her perch and go in search of an apple for Ruby, Phinn just then heard the sound of a car coming up the drive and recognised Kit Peverill’s vehicle. She had asked him to come and look Ruby over.

Ruby wasn’t too sure about him, but was too timid by nature to raise any strong objections. Instead she sidled up to Phinn and stayed close when he had finished with her.

‘She’ll do,’ he pronounced.

‘She’s better!’ Phinn exclaimed in relief.

‘She’s never going to be better, Phinn,’ Kit replied gently. ‘You know that. But she’s over this last little upset.’

Phinn looked down at her feet to hide the pain in her eyes. ‘Thank you for being so attentive,’ she murmured, and, leaving Ruby, walked to his vehicle with him to collect some medication he had mentioned.

‘It’s always a pleasure to see you, Phinn,’ he commented, which took her out of her stride a little, because he had never said anything like it before. Indeed, she had always supposed him to be a tiny bit shy, more of an animal person than a people person. But she was to discover that, while shy, he was not so shy as she had imagined. And that he quite liked people too as well as animals, when he coughed, and followed up with, ‘Er—in fact, I’ve been meaning to ask you—er—how do you feel about coming out with me one night—say, tomorrow night?’

Phinn kept her eyes on the path in front while she considered what he had said. ‘Um…’ She just hadn’t thought of him in a ‘date’ situation, only a ‘vet’ situation. ‘We—I’m…’ Her thoughts were a bit muddled up, but she was thinking more about how long she would want to leave Ruby than of any enjoyment she might find if she dated this rather pleasant man.

‘Look, why not give me a ring? I know you won’t want to be away from Ruby for too long, but we could have a quick bite over at the Kings Arms in Little Thornby.’

Phinn was on the point of agreeing to go out with him, but something held her back. Perhaps she would go if Ty came home this weekend. Surely she was not expected to stay home being a companion to Ash if Ty was there to keep him company?

‘Can I give you a ring?’ she asked.

After Kit had gone, Phinn thought it time she attended to her duties, and went looking for Ash. The sound of someone busy with a hammer attracted her towards the pool, and she headed in that direction where, to her amazement, she found Ash on the far side, hammering a large signpost into the ground. In bold red the sign proclaimed ‘DANGER. KEEP OUT. TREACHEROUS WATER’. Close by was another post, from which hung a lifebelt.

Ash raised his head and saw her. ‘Thought I was useless, didn’t you?’ he called, but seemed the happiest she had seen him since her cousin had done a brilliant job of flattening him.

What Phinn thought was that he was an extremely bruised man, who loved well, but not too wisely, and was paying for it.

‘I think you’re gorgeous,’ she called back with a laugh, and felt a true affection for him. Had she had a brother, she would have liked one just like Ash.

Ash grinned, and for the first time Phinn saw that perhaps her being there was making a bit of a difference. Perhaps Ash was starting to heal. Phinn went to get Ruby an apple.

It started to rain after lunch, and although Ruby did not mind the rain, it was heavy enough for Phinn to not want to risk it for her. After stabling her she went indoors, and was coming down the stairs after changing out of damp clothes when the phone in the hall rang.

Phinn had spotted Mrs Starkey driving off in her car about fifteen minutes ago, and, with Ash nowhere to be seen, she picked up the phone with a peculiar sort of hope in her heart that the caller would not be Ty, ringing to say that he wouldn’t be home this weekend.

An odd sort of relief entered her soul when the caller was not Ty but Geraldine Walton again, with an offer of more straw. ‘I’m running out of space under cover here, so if Ash could pop over he’d be doing me something of a favour,’ Geraldine added.

‘It’s very good of you think of me,’ Phinn replied, feeling for certain now that Ash was more the cause for the call than the fact that Geraldine had more straw than she knew what to do with. Geraldine had said not one word about having surplus stocks when she had wandered over yesterday to settle what she owed her! ‘Ash isn’t around just now. But I’d be glad of the straw,’ she accepted.

Phinn was about to go looking for Ash, and found she did not have to when he came crashing in through the front door. ‘It’s bucketing down out there!’ he exclaimed, shaking rain from his arms.

‘You don’t fancy going out again?’

‘Need something?’ he enquired, at once willing to go on an errand. He hadn’t heard what the errand was yet!