It didn’t take him long to finish his route in the village, and then it was time to hop back in the van and head off to Muddypuddle Lane. He had a couple of farms, isolated houses and businesses after that, before moving on to a small hamlet about two miles away. He didn’t mind the deliveries being so far apart because he enjoyed the drive through the countryside, especially in the summer. Everything was bursting with life and was so lush and green. The sun was a welcome sight, and he wound down his window to let the breeze play over his face.
Slowing to turn into Muddypuddle Lane, he smiled as he saw the horses in the field. They were galloping, their necks arched and tails held high, and seeing them made his spirits soar. There was nothing quite as beautiful as a horse running free.
As he got out of his van at the stables, he breathed in the scent of horse. It wasn’t an unpleasant smell, and when he saw an equine head poking over the top of a stable door, he paused for a moment to give its nose a stroke.
Letters delivered, it was the turn of the farm at the top of the lane next.
After handing Dulcie her post, Ashton was about to get back in his van when he saw a woman walk into the farmyard. She had a goat on a lead, closely followed by a pair of gambolling youngsters.
It wasn’t the goats that gave him pause though, it was the woman. She was gorgeous – spikey dark hair, high cheekbones, big hazel eyes and a figure a man could lose himself in for days. Not only that, but he was certain he had seen her before.
‘Made it back safe, I see,’ Dulcie called to her. She turned to Ashton. ‘This is my friend Carla. She’s staying with me for a while.’
He took a second to find his voice. ‘Hi.’
Carla smiled, instead of replying. It didn’t quite reach her eyes.
‘This is Ashton, my postie,’ Dulcie said to Carla. ‘You met him last time you were here, remember?’
Ah, that explained it. It was over a year ago, but he had a good memory for faces.
Carla looked at him, but there wasn’t any recognition in her eyes. And why would there be? As Ashton recalled, the meeting had been a very brief one indeed.
He gave her a nod, and as he opened the van door he heard her say, ‘I think I saw a stray cat. It definitely wasn’t Magic.’ She pointed up the hill. ‘It was up there.’
Dulcie said, ‘It’s probably Walter’s ginger tomcat. That creature is feral.’
Ashton got into the driver’s seat and clipped in his seatbelt.
‘It wasn’t ginger,’ Carla was saying. ‘It was chocolate-coloured with white all down its front. It looked like it had lain in a pot of paint. It was really small though, but very bouncy.’
Ashton paused. It didn’t sound like a cat. From Carla’s description, it sounded remarkably like a stoat or a weasel. He’d only ever caught glimpses of a weasel, and he had never seen a stoat.
Vowing to return after his shift, he drove off down the lane. However, it wasn’t the possibility of photographing one of the elusive creatures that caused the buzz of excitement in his chest – it was the possibility of seeing the woman with the troubled eyes.
CHAPTER THREE
‘How was the goat walk?’ Dulcie asked after the postie had driven off.
‘It was good, actually.’
She smiled. ‘I knew you’d like it. Can you do me a favour and take them to the field? I’ve got to get back to work.’
Carla felt awful. She’d descended on Dulcie without warning, so of course Dulcie had to work. As well as the farm, her friend had a ‘day job’ working for a large energy supplier, dealing with customer complaints, but there was an upside in that Dulcie was able to work from home. Carla didn’t know how she managed to do both.
‘What else can I do to help?’ Carla asked.
‘Aw, that’s sweet of you, but Maisie will be here in a minute.’ Dulcie shot her a meaningful look as she said, ‘You won’t believe how much she does around the farm. She finally seems to have found something she enjoys. I’m going to miss her when the kennels are up and running.’
‘When will that be?’
‘Early next year, Adam estimates. Bless him, he’s doing most of the work himself, as well as running his business. It’s a good thing he’s so brilliant at stuff like that. He can turn his hand to anything.’
‘What does Maisie do on the farm?’ Carla was still wondering how she could help.
‘Milking, bottling, soap making, egg collecting, rabbit feeding – anything and everything.’
‘Surely there’s something I can help with? I can’t just sit around doing nothing.’
