A Home On Bramble Hill. Holly Martin

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СКАЧАТЬ eyes slid to Alex.

      ‘Brother?’ he asked, deliberately ignoring Alex’s outstretched hand.

      Alex nodded.

      ‘For Christ’s sake,’ he muttered as he stormed away.

      ‘Well you certainly know how to make a good first impression,’ Alex said.

      ‘I’m sure I can win him round.’

      ‘I’m sure you can. You’re my favourite person in the world and if he can’t see how fantastic you are, then he’s blind.’

      Joy passed Alex his rather squished ice cream and followed him into the house. She glanced back at the large man disappearing down the road and tried to ignore the butterflies that were fluttering with unease around her stomach.

      *

      The sun was setting over Bramble Hill as Joy drove down towards the tiny village with the last load of her stuff. She had picked it up from Alex’s house, nearly an hour’s drive from her new home, and waved away offers for him to spend the first night with her.

      Next to the village sign she’d just passed was another that she hadn’t noticed before. It was weather beaten, decorated in tiny delicate flowers and said; “Bramble Hill, Home of Finn Mackenzie.” She wondered who that might be; the village founder perhaps, or some old scout leader who had taken boys camping and taught them how to make fires since before she was born. She was sure she would find out over the next few days.

      The village looked beautiful basked in the rosy glow of the sun as she drove down the hill towards the cluster of whitewashed cottages. It was peaceful and quiet. There was a tiny duck pond, glinting pink and gold as the little white ducks bobbed on the water, an old beamed pub, called charmingly The Peacock’s Pride, a tiny shop, and that was it. Life here would be as idyllic and quiet as the village itself.

      She drew up outside her house and sighed. Home, sweet home.

      Opening her boot, she hefted her large chainsaw over her shoulder, picked up a smaller one and grabbed a bag of some of her other power tools.

      ‘Hey, would you like some help?’ came a voice from behind her.

      She turned to see a man hurrying towards her. It was the smile she saw first – an honest, genuine smile that spread to his denim blue eyes. He was quite broad in the shoulder, and wearing very tight jeans. His dark hair was floppy over his eyes, in a sexy, unruly, unkempt kind of way.

      Although she had carried the large chainsaw many times over the years and she was used to the weight, she wasn’t about to turn down an offer of help from someone, it might appear rude. Besides, he was the first person who had actually spoken to her since she had arrived.

      ‘Sure, that would be great.’ She carefully passed the chainsaw into his waiting hands.

      ‘This isn’t the twelve tonnes of makeup and hair products I was expecting,’ he said, following her into the house.

      She smiled at the dig. ‘I’ve already unpacked that.’

      ‘Now if my detective skills haven’t let me down, you must be Jo Carter.’

      ‘I’m afraid they have. Joy Cartier, my landlord is Joe Carter.’

      He was clearly thrown by this.

      ‘I know, weird isn’t it? Similar sounding names, but no relation.’

      ‘This could be a problem,’ he mumbled, clearly more to himself than to her. She looked at him waiting for clarification but his lovely smile quickly returned and he changed the subject. ‘I’m Casey Fallowfield, my brother Zach lives next door. This place looks great.’

      They walked through the house and towards the shed. ‘Thanks, though I can’t take any of the credit. Joe did all the decorating. I’m just renting from him. Just put that on the shelf up there.’

      The shed was very small and Casey leaned up over her to put the chainsaw on the shelf, revealing a flash of brown, toned belly. She swallowed. He was standing so close and his fresh citrus smell made something clench in her stomach.

      He flashed her a grin as he let go of the chainsaw and she blushed. He knew she had just been staring at his stomach.

      ‘So the chainsaws, what are they for?’

      ‘Cutting wood,’ she said.

      ‘This is a very expensive chainsaw though, and are those your initials engraved onto the side?’

      She brushed past him as she headed out the shed.

      ‘You’re not… The Dark Shadow are you?’ He grinned, clearly not believing she was.

      She laughed. ‘Isn’t he supposed to be some eight foot tall alien, or a time traveller, or a demon from the underworld?’ Some of the conspiracy theories surrounding The Dark Shadow were ridiculous.

      ‘I heard it was animals, trying to send us a message. Or fairies, definitely fairies.’

      ‘I heard…’ she looked around to make sure no one was listening, ‘that it was a Scotsman.’

      Casey gasped theatrically. ‘Nooooo.’

      ‘A nine foot Scotsman with a twelve foot long red beard, eyes of coal, arms of steel, teeth made from razor blades.’

      ‘Those Scotsmen are savage.’

      ‘Well I’m sure the Scottish are perfectly wonderful people, it’s just this one that’s savage. Some say he’s actually a vampire and he’s hundreds of years old. Can I offer you a beer?’

      ‘Sure, then you can tell me about the chainsaws.’

      She smiled at him over her shoulder. ‘You’re nosy aren’t you?’

      ‘People interest me – you interest me, Joy. Where have you come from? Why did you come here? Was it to run away from something or towards something? What do you do for a job? Though it must be something good to afford the rent in this place… and what’s with the hulking great autographed chainsaw in your shed?’

      ‘Wow those are a lot of questions.’ She passed him a beer and came back to stand on the decking, watching the sun sink behind the hills. ‘Maybe one day I’ll tell you the answers.’

      ‘Ah a woman of mystery. I suddenly like you a whole heap more.’

      She chinked her beer against his. ‘To friendship then, and to sucking out all the gory details of each other’s personal lives.’

      ‘I like it, that’s what true friendship is all about; being beholden to each other over our deepest darkest secrets.’

      She smiled. ‘So what are yours?’

      ‘I’ll need more than just a sip of beer inside me to tell you that.’

      She turned back to the view.

      Just then the large man, who she had literally bumped into earlier, СКАЧАТЬ