Nate felt for this woman, he really did. Because he’d been through it himself, losing his mother. The funeral had been draining, emotional; he knew what it was like with well-wishes and kindness that you couldn’t feel because you were so numb. He and his dad had scattered his mum’s ashes at the foot of the grand old oak tree in the garden at his dad’s home, aptly named Oak Cottage.
‘Is that why you came home?’ he asked. ‘To be here for your mum?’ He didn’t remember her, but then again, he’d been away for some time and his visits didn’t always involve socialising too much, given they were usually quite rushed, with a business to get back to.
‘Yeah. It’s what you do, isn’t it? Put family first.’
There was no disputing that Morgan was an attractive woman. He’d never had a particular type. Perhaps that had been his problem all along. But right now, aside from the aura of sadness around this woman, she was ticking a lot of boxes. Listen to him. She was grieving and probably after a sympathetic ear rather than a man lusting after her, and if the sparkling ring on a very important finger was anything to go by, she was already very much spoken for.
‘It is. It’s what I’m trying to do, anyway,’ he said.
‘Then Trevor is lucky. But he’s all right, isn’t he? He certainly seemed in good form earlier.’
‘Good to know. But I worry about him all on his own. I wouldn’t mind knowing he’s somewhere where he has people looking out for him.’ Why was he telling her all of this? Probably because he hadn’t really spoken with anyone about it until now, least of all Trevor. ‘I’m his only family and I live far away. Too far to get here quickly in an emergency.’
She looked as though she understood exactly where he was coming from. But she added, ‘You know he won’t ever leave the village, don’t you? I can tell because Mum was the same way.’
‘I just want what’s best for him.’
‘You might have to be the one to move,’ she teased. Although was it teasing? Or was she being totally serious? He wouldn’t mind betting it was the latter.
He smiled. ‘You know, you might be right.’ He fussed Branston on the head. ‘We’d better get going, see if Dad’s back at the house and not panicking that we’ve disappeared into the night.’
‘Me too. It’s getting late.’ She gave a shiver and it was almost instinct to want to put his arm around her and warm her up.
‘Thanks for the introduction to Poohsticks.’
‘You’re welcome,’ she grinned. ‘I’ll be having a word with Trevor about never teaching you that as a young boy.’
‘Maybe I’ll see you around.’
‘Maybe,’ she said as he and Branston turned to make their way to the opposite side of the humpback bridge. He looked back to watch Morgan walk away, but she’d already gone. Probably not a bad thing because he couldn’t deny she was attractive, that given half the chance he wouldn’t mind getting to know her better. And given his track record, that could only lead to trouble. It usually did.
Nate and Branston plodded on. Even in the dark, the village was pretty and he could see why his dad wouldn’t want to leave it behind. But Nate still worried about his dad being on his own. And right now, he had a plumbing business in Wales, a business he couldn’t walk away from just like that. It wasn’t practical long-term for his dad to be all alone. And last week, when a bungalow had come up for sale three doors down from Nate’s house, it had caught his eye because it would be perfect for Trevor. And then Nate would be around to look after him and never let anything happen to him.
Because that was his biggest fear: not being there when his family needed him.
3
Morgan was Belle’s first customer of the day at the Bookshop Café. Having bypassed the books, she’d gone straight to the café at the back and clasped her hands together in front of her. ‘I’m hoping your pancakes are on the menu?’
‘Always. And a portion of pancakes, coming right up,’ Belle smiled. ‘I thought your sister was coming down today.’
‘She is, but she’ll be a while and as I’m making lunch for us, I thought I deserved a treat first thing.’
‘Too right. Coffee too?’
‘Yes, please.’
As Belle set about getting everything ready and making the batter, Morgan told her what she and her sister planned to get through today. The list was extensive, but they’d do as much as possible. ‘She’s staying over, which is great because I reckon we’ll be shattered after doing this. And with the kids in tow, it won’t be as quick as we’d like.’
‘Wow, she’s bringing the kids?’ Belle was busy cracking eggs into a well in the centre of the bowl of flour. Without any other customers yet, it gave them a chance to chat. And just by the nature of the environment, a cosy café and a front of shop full of books, Morgan felt a sense of calm.
‘She has to. The farm can’t look after itself so Henry will need to focus his attentions on that. And it’s easy enough for us to have the kids playing nearby in the cottage. It’s great to see them too, I don’t see them enough.’
Belle had taken the carton of milk from the fridge and a measuring jug too and as she poured, Morgan mentioned she’d bumped into someone on her way home from last night’s dinner at Snowdrop Cottage.
‘Who?’ Belle clearly thought Morgan was going to mention a local she knew as she whisked the pancake mixture with enthusiasm, but her focus changed when Morgan said the name Nate.
Belle’s whisk paused but not for long as she wouldn’t want the lumps. Her body turned partially towards her friend. ‘Trevor’s son Nate?’
