The Girl from Honeysuckle Farm / One Dance with the Cowboy: The Girl from Honeysuckle Farm / One Dance with the Cowboy. DONNA ALWARD

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      ‘What went on between my father and mother is nothing at all to do with you!’ Phinn stated coldly, wanting her anger back. ‘It’s none of your business…’

      ‘When it comes to my brother I’ll make it my business. You’ve seen him! You’ve seen how gutted he is that your cousin ditched him the same way your mother ditched your father. I’m not having another Hawkins anywhere near him. Get off my land and stay off it! And,’ he went on icily when she opened her mouth, ‘don’t give me “Huh!” This is your last warning. If I catch you trespassing again I’ll have you in court before you can blink!’

      ‘Have you quite finished?’

      ‘I hope never to have to speak to you again,’ he confirmed. ‘You just leave my brother alone.’

      ‘Be glad to!’ she snapped, her eyes darkening. ‘I don’t know what Bishops Thornby ever did to deserve the likes of you, but for my money it was the worst day’s work he ever did when old Mr Caldicott sold this estate to you!’ Thereafter ignoring him, she addressed the mare. ‘Come on, Rubes. You’re much too sweet to have to stand and listen to this loathsome man!’

      With that, she put her nose in the air and sauntered off. Unfortunately, because of Ruby’s slow gait, she was prevented from marching off as she would have wished. She hoped the dastardly Allardyce got the idea anyway.

      Her adrenalin was still pumping when she took Ruby back to her stall. Honestly, that man!

      Phinn wasted no time the next day. Once she had attended to all Ruby’s needs, she made the long walk up to Honeysuckle Farm. She walked into the familiar farmyard, but, having been away from the farm for around three months, as she stood and stared about she was able to see it for the first time from a different perspective. She had to admit to feeling a little shaken.

      Rusting pieces of machinery littered the yard, and there was a general air of neglect everywhere. Which there would be, she defended her father. Had he lived he would have repaired and sold on the rusting and clapped out pieces. Had he lived…

      Avoiding thoughts that some of the machinery had lain there rusting for years, and not just since last October when her father had died, and the fact that the place had become to be more and more rundown over the years but that until today she had never noticed it, Phinn went to take a look at the old barn that had used to be Ruby’s home.

      The secure door latch had broken years ago, but, as her father had so laughingly said, they had nothing worth stealing so why bother repairing it? That his logic was a touch different from most people’s had all been part of the man she had adored. It hadn’t been that he was idle, he’d just thought on a different and more pleasurable level.

      The barn smelt musty, and not too pleasant. But it was a sunny day, so Phinn propped the doors open wide and went in. Everything about the place screamed, no! But what alternative did she have? Ruby, her timid darling Ruby, would by far prefer to be up here in the old barn than where she was. Had Phinn had any idea of Ruby’s fear of the other horses she would never have taken her there in the first place. Too late now to be wise after the event!

      Looking for plus points, Phinn knew that Ruby would be better on her own, away from the younger horses. As well as being timid, Ruby was a highly sensitive mare, and with their mutual attachment to each other, Honeysuckle was the best place for them. Another plus: it was dry—mainly. And there was a field. Several, in fact. Overgrown with weeds and clutter, but in Phinn’s view it wouldn’t take her long to clear it and put up some sort of temporary fencing.

      With matters pertaining to Ruby sorted out in her head, Phinn crossed the yard, found a ladder, and was able to gain entry into the farmhouse by climbing up to a bedroom window. Forcing the window did not take a great deal of effort, and once in she went through to what had once been her own bedroom.

      It smelt musty, but then it hadn’t been used in months. There was no electricity, so she would have to do without heat or light, but looking on the brighter side she felt sure that Mickie Yates would cart her few belongings up for her. Mickie had been a good friend of her father’s, and she knew she could rely on him not to tell anyone that she was squatting—trespassing, Allardyce would call it if he knew—at Honeysuckle.

      Phinn left Honeysuckle Farm endeavouring not to think what her mother’s reaction to her plan would be. Appalled would not cover it.

      By Thursday of that week Phinn was trying to tell herself that she felt quite enthusiastic about her proposed move. She had been to see Mickie Yates and found him in his workshop, up to his elbows in muck and grease, but with the loveliest smile of welcome on his face for her.

      Whatever he thought when she asked for use of him and one of his vehicles to transport her cases and horse equipment on Friday she did not know. All he’d said was, ‘After three suit you, Phinn?’

      She knew he would be having his ‘lunch’ in the Cat and Drum until two fifty-five. ‘Lovely thank you, Mickie,’ she had replied.

      It was a surprisingly hot afternoon, and Phinn, not certain when she would be in the village again, decided to walk Ruby to the village farrier. It would be even hotter at the forge, so she changed out of her more usual jeans and top, exchanging them for a thin, loose-fitting sleeveless cotton dress. Donning some sandals, she felt certain that by now grumpy Allardyce must be back in London, where he surely more particularly belonged.

      Perhaps after their visit to Idris Owen, the farrier and blacksmith, a man who could turn his hand to anything and who had been another friend of her father’s, Phinn and Ruby might take another stroll in the shady spinney.

      Knowing that she should be packing her belongings prior to tomorrow’s move, she left her flat—and on the way out bumped into Geraldine Walton. Geraldine seemed difficult to miss these days. But for once Phinn was not anxious about meeting her.

      ‘You do know I shall want the flat on Saturday?’ Geraldine began a touch stiffly, before Phinn could say a word.

      ‘You shall have it,’ she replied. ‘Ruby and I are moving tomorrow.’

      Geraldine’s severe look lightened. ‘You are? Oh, good! Er…I hope you’ve found somewhere—suitable?’

      Phinn ignored the question in her voice. Villages being villages, she knew she could not hope to keep her new address secret for very long. But, her new address being part of the Broadlands Estate, the longer it was kept from Ty Allardyce the better. Not that she was aware if Geraldine even knew him, but there was no point in inviting more of his wrath—and a definite court summons—if they were acquainted.

      ‘Most suitable,’ she replied with a smile, and, aiming to make the best of what life was currently throwing at her, she went to collect Ruby.

      Idris greeted Phinn with the same warm smile she had received from Mickie Yates. Idris was somewhere around fifty, a huge mountain of a man, with a heart as big. ‘How’s my best girl?’ he asked, as he always did. No matter what time of day she visited, he always seemed to have a pint of beer on the go. ‘Help yourself,’ he offered, as he checked Ruby’s hooves and shoes.

      Phinn still did not like beer any better than she had when she had first tasted it. But it was blisteringly hot in there, and to take a healthy swig of his beer—as encouraged so to do in the past by her father—was now traditional. She picked up the pot and drank to her father’s memory.

      When he was done, Idris told her that she owed him nothing, СКАЧАТЬ