When Bronte came to the farm to talk to Willow, we both greeted her and took her over to the pony enclosure to meet Jasmine and Blossom. Seeing Bronte again did put Blake back into my mind. I’d checked and my message had been flagged as having been read but there had been no reply or other contact from him. Even though I had no idea what he thought about what I’d said, I was glad I’d got it off my chest.
Bronte followed Willow through the gate and walked up to the ponies to give them a treat. I leaned on the fence to watch.
‘You two are very naughty, I hear, but very cute,’ she said as she greeted each one and smiled as they nudged her for attention.
‘I got them at a discount price, which should have been a red flag in hindsight,’ Willow said ruefully. ‘They have great personalities and we all love them but I’m nervous now for them to be around visitors. What if they play up when a kid is riding one? Plus, no one really wants to take responsibility for them now that your brother has gone.’ She glanced at me then back to Bronte. ‘I really don’t know what to do.’
‘We had a couple of ponies at our riding school for a bit – we were looking after them for a friend – so I’m confident they’ll be fine with a firm hand. But let’s see, shall we?’
Willow came to join me at the fence and we watched as Bronte put the harness and lead on them, before putting them through their paces, walking then trotting them around the enclosure. She’d stop and start, changing direction, talking to them the whole time. Bronte was clearly experienced and took no nonsense, which the ponies seemed to quickly sense and their behaviour was markedly different to how they’d played around with us.
‘They definitely think I’m a soft touch,’ Willow said, shaking her head.
I chuckled. ‘Me too. They only ever really listened to Blake, let’s face it. And now Bronte.’
Once Bronte was done, she unhooked their leads and gave them both a treat then came over to us. ‘They haven’t had great training. I would want to spend some more time with them before you open but I think they’ll be fine. I’d recommend only offering rides for a short time each day to start with, just for an hour or so, then we can build up to more if they do well. I don’t know if Daisy said but the riding school could do with some more riders. If you let us publicise the riding school, I could come for an hour each day for a reduced rate.’
‘I’m happy to help you guys out; you’d be doing us a huge favour,’ Willow said, relief written all over her face. ‘We can see how it goes and extend the rides if they are as popular as I hope they will be.’ She flung out her hand and Bronte shook it, both women smiling at one another.
‘Thanks for thinking of me, Daisy,’ Bronte added, turning to me.
‘Sure. Like Willow says, it’s nice to help each other out.’
Dylan called Willow then as a couple of teenagers had come to discuss working at the farm so I walked Bronte back to her car.
‘I heard from Blake,’ she said suddenly.
I tried not to react but my heart did a little skip. ‘Oh, yeah?’
She glanced across at me with a raised eyebrow, as if she knew I was trying to be nonchalant, but it wasn’t fooling her. ‘He phoned to apologise for rushing back to the city without coming to say goodbye. Said he had important meetings to go to but he’d be in touch soon with some exciting news.’ She shrugged. ‘I have no idea what that means but he seemed happy so that’s all we can ask for, I guess. I just wish he wasn’t so far away again.’
I nodded, wishing that too. ‘How’s your dad doing?’
‘Still thinking about selling the shop.’ Bronte sighed as we paused by her car. ‘I keep trying to come up with something that might help but I’m at a loss. At least now, we can focus on the riding school and hopefully, being here this summer will help.’ She looked around. ‘It’s a lovely farm, and the trail looks so fun. I’ll definitely bring my husband and kids for the day. I’d love you to meet them.’
‘I’d love to meet them too.’
‘And your flowers are so pretty. Maybe you’ll have a garden of your own one day soon.’
I smiled. ‘I’d like that. I’m definitely enjoying working with flowers this summer.’ I told her about how I’d been helping out at the florist in town as well as working with Willow on the trail. ‘I think being in your father’s shop helped too. He had a cuckoo clock that reminded me of the one my mum had in her flower shop. It made me realise that I had seen flowers as a symbol of what I’d lost. But they’re also a symbol of what Ihad. People I loved and who loved me. That shouldn’t be something that I see as a bad thing.’
‘Never!’ Bronte cried. ‘I always wanted a family of my own but I remember the night before my wedding having a sudden freak-out. What if I was like my mum? What if I couldn’t be a wife and mother, after all? What if I wanted to run one day like she had? I went outside into the garden and Blake found me and he told me that love is a choice you make. And if this was my choice then I would just have to keep choosing it over and over, and reminding myself of that moment I made the choice, and then I wouldn’t want to go anywhere. He said maybe Mum made the wrong choice once and then tried to stick with it but it didn’t work. So, he asked me if I was making the right choice.’
‘And do you think you made the right choice?’ I asked.
‘I do. And I make that choice over and over again. So, if you make the decision to see flowers as a symbol of love then you keep choosing that and you’ll be fine. I guess what I’m saying is, life and love, it’s all about perspective. You’ve had huge loss but you don’t want fear of losing it to stop you from choosing love. It’s all we have really, isn’t it?’
Her words pierced through the final layer I had grown over the years, and which I had been shedding the last couple of weeks. I exhaled steadily. ‘Yes,’ I replied, unable to say any more as I felt quite choked up.
She nodded like she understood. ‘Right, see you tomorrow afternoon.’
I watched her get into her car and drive off with a beep of the horn.
After the car had disappeared down the driveway, I stood there for a moment thinking about what she’d said Blake had told her the night before her wedding. I wished he’d been there to talk to me the night before mine. But what he’d said was exactly what I’d realised on my wedding day. I’d been making the wrong choice because I didn’t love Henry. I never had. And I thought that was a good thing because I wouldn’t fear losing him. But now, I wanted to love someone and to have them love me. And yes, I would fear losing them and yes, it would hurt if I did lose them, but loss was part of love. I didn’t want to hide from it ever again.
And that wasn’t just romantic love.
It was also the love of my family and friends. I had hidden from that too. And love of work. I had thought I wasn’t passionate about anything like Willow was about this farm. But I was passionate about flowers. I’d just been hiding from it. I was finally putting that right.
