‘They’re beautiful,’ she whispered.
‘You did good,’ Jago murmured to Rita, as he pulled off his gloves. Camilla continued her nurturing, exhausted but calm.
For a moment, everything was still. Just the sound of wind, the bleats from the other goats, and the warmth of Jago’s presence beside her.
She looked at him. He was close, so close, wet hair plastered to his forehead, eyes dark. He had a wild, untamed look, yet in that moment she understood how deeply he cared. ‘Thank you so much. I don’t know what I would have done without you, and I’ve been so remiss in looking after her through this pregnancy and…’
Jago reached for her cheek, fingers rough, warm. And without asking this time, kissed her. Slow and certain, like they had all the time in the word. She melted into him, into the press of his mouth, the solidness of his chest. She broke away, breathless. ‘You said we shouldn’t…’
‘The heart does what the heart wants and all that,’ Jago replied flippantly. ‘And I can’t stop thinking about you, Rita.’
‘My head is so muddled.’ Rita pushed the wet hair back off her face. ‘And my heart…’ She trailed off, pressing her palm to her chest like she was trying to still it. ‘It doesn’t know whether to run or stay. To fight for this or protect itself. I’m so confused.’ She let out a shaky breath. ‘And there’s… something I need to tell you.’
‘Go on.’ Jago pulled her towards him as if he never wanted to let her go.
Rita took a huge breath. ‘The will saga continues. According to Chloe Brimble at the solicitors’, Archie has a brother.’ Her voice trembled.
Jago’s jaw tightened. She felt the shift in him, a subtle retreat.
She blinked. ‘Oh my God.’
He grabbed his keys. Rita was wide eyed, her voice sharp with disbelief. ‘You know who it is, don’t you?’
He said nothing.
‘Jago? Is that what this is?’ She took a step closer. ‘The Jenken–Jory feud? Is it to do with Archie’s brother?’
The silence cracked. Not from Jago, but from above. A bright flash lit up the courtyard in stark white. Then low rumbles of thunder rolling across the sky, deep and growling.
Then headlights and a car pulling in, tyres crunching on the gravel. The vet stepped out, a headlamp strapped over his cap like a miner entering a cave.
‘I have to go,’ Jago announced. ‘Tell the vet everything you saw. They should be all right now.’
‘But Jago—’ Rita felt her throat burning.
But he was already gone.
Rita stood there in the straw, the kids both making their first shaky steps, Camilla breathing steady beside them, the vet walking towards her with a massive apology at the ready.
And inside her chest, a dance of a million questions.
FORTY-THREE
It was only 10 p.m. but it felt way later. Rita paced the kitchen, still in her mismatched goat-birthing clothes, hair frizzed, body tired and aching, phone tucked under her chin.
‘I know it sounds mad, Kel.’ Rita flicked on the kettle. ‘But it felt real. The kiss. Like he’d wanted to do it forever. And then the second I mentioned the brother. Bam. Shutters down. Gone.’
Kelly’s voice crackled through the line, full of sympathy and suspicion in equal measure. ‘So, what are you thinking?’
‘I think heknowswho it is. And whatever it is… it’s big. Maybe it’s to do with Thom? Maybe they’re in on it, the whole farm thing. Maybe Jago’s trying to get the land from me, and I’m just here like some kind of tragic widow he can get his evil way with… but you know when you know, don’t you, Kel, and I kind of know it was real.’
‘Whoa, whoa, slow down.’ Kelly was laughing now, but kindly. ‘You’re tired. You’re emotional. You’ve just delivered two goat kids and kissed possibly the hottest mysterious, emotionally unavailable farmer in Cornwall. You’re entitled to spin out, but let’s not start writing conspiracy thrillers yet. And like your old dad used to say, there has to be a sensible solution.’
Rita made a little groaning noise. ‘I’m losing it, aren’t I?’
‘I think you’ve got a lot going on, and maybe you’re seeing patterns that don’t exist.’
Rita sighed. ‘He looked at me like… like heknewsomething. And it wasn’t good. I feel so betrayed. Why can’t he just tell me?’ Rita was about to say more when there was a knock at the front door. Sharp. Measured. Her heart jerked.
