“There it is.” Finally, Pippa emerged from the treeline and before her lay the loveliest, lushest meadow, sprinkled with wildflowers and lichen-patched boulders through which a well trampled path weaved its way to Clough Hill. As small children, she and Frankie would hide amongst the boulders, graduating to climbing them as they got older, much to the chagrin of their worrying mothers.
Eyes misted by nostalgia, Pippa picked her way through the meadow, shivering as more clouds began to gather overhead. Everywhere she looked she saw memories: the ditch where Frankie had found a rat’s nest; the rock shaped like a hedgehog that she’d fallen off on her tenth birthday, breaking her wrist; that time they did a school trip up here to examine the wildlife and Pippa had snuck a baby frog into her backpack. That had earned her a week of detention. Then there was that sponsored hike across the moors to raise money to fix the fences protecting the duck pond on the green. Vincent Squires had hosted a mulled wine and parkin fuelled celebration in his gardens for all the hikers, which had been featured in the local newspaper. Pippa still had the clipping from that day somewhere. She’d kept it because there was a lovely photo in which she, Frankie and Mae lolled in the bottom corner, their thirteen-year-old smiles clagged with sticky, fragrant parkin. It hadn’t just been a day that mattered to her, it had mattered to everyone.
The memories were so intense that she didn’t clock the boggy patch ahead and with a sudden, vicious swipe, Pippa found herself flat on her back. Winded, she couldn’t move for a moment, conscious of a sharp pain in her ankle and her lungs wheezing for air.
Gradually, the shock subsided, and Pippa gathered enough strength to manoeuvre to a sitting position. Above her, the sky grew even darker, the fat clouds from before now ominous grey weights settling solidly into place. A storm was imminent. She had to get to low ground, fast.
Pippa tentatively put her weight on the throbbing foot and instantly regretted it as a spike of pain shot up her entire leg. Breathing heavily, she gave her ankle a poke and stifled a shriek.
“Shiiiit.” Wincing, she massaged her ankle as best she could then tested the weight again but once more she buckled and collapsed back down. From far away came the faint rumble of thunder. Panic flashed; was she due to be stuck up here, lame and alone during a thunderstorm? Pippa eyed the path back down towards the road; could she slide down through the mud on her bottom away from the high ground?
As fat raindrops began to plop on her head, Pippa made the decision to at least reach the shelter of the wooded incline, hoping that she could wait out the worst of the rain before attempting to walk back. With the most unladylike of grunts, she scooted forward, grimacing as cold mud slushed up her backside and under her top. The lazy plops became more insistent, thrumming hard against her skull and plastering her hair to her scalp. Pippa braced her weight on her hands and slid, over and over, her ankle complaining at the smallest movement. The rain was relentless, the drops bouncing painfully off her skin, and it didn’t take long until she was soaked to the skin, right down to her underwear.
“What was I thinking?” She cursed herself for imagining that she could attempt such a trek, especially in her flimsy shoes that were useless in the face of this weather. How long had she lived here? How many times had she seen with her own eyes how the weather could turn on a whim?
Many long minutes later, she had only managed to slide a few metres down the track; the trees might as well have been miles away. Miserable and shivering, Pippa tried once more to stand. Breathing hard through the pain, she managed to achieve a lopsided stance but one look at the slope ahead that she had yet to navigate had fresh tears of frustration springing. Small streams of water began to pour down the rocky path. Was this the end? Pippa wondered. Was the whole moorland going to become a giant lake in which she was to drown?
“Pippa!” A familiar voice echoed through the trees.
She froze. Had she imagined someone calling her name? No, because there it was, her name being shouted again and again. It was Wolfie. Frantically, she tried to regain some dignity by standing up straight. Yet again her injured ankle betrayed her, and she was back down, her spine aching from the fall. Wolfie could not see her like this, weak and helpless after she’d run away from him so dramatically. But suddenly, he was by her side, his T-shirt soaked to the point of transparency. “Pippa?” Rivulets of water ran down his angled face. “Thank God. Are you all right?”
“I fell.” The rain was so loud she had to shout. Self-consciously, Pippa tried to swipe wet hair off her face, cringing as she felt a thick smear of mud transfer from hand to cheek.
“Come on.” Wolfie extended a hand. “This storm is set to last for hours. It’s not safe to be out here.”
“I can’t walk,” she admitted, allowing him to pull her up to a precarious one-legged stance. “My ankle.”
He glanced down. “Can you put any weight on it?”
She gingerly attempted a step. Pain knifed its way up her leg. “No. Not really.”
“Right.” Wolfie put his arm around her shoulders. “Lean on me.”
Pippa did just that, trying not to react to the sheer wall of muscle she found herself propped against. As her ankle throbbed angrily, Pippa forced herself to concentrate on using his strength as a crutch. Together, they edged their way through the boulders and into the trees, where the sound of rain on leaves was deafening.
“Careful here,” Wolfie yelled. The sloping path before them looked incredibly slippery, with little streams rushing between the pebbles. Pippa gulped.
“I don’t think I can get down there,” she said. Even with a human crutch, the wet rocks seemed too treacherous.
Wolfie growled in exasperation, but just as it seemed he was about to respond, white light flickered through the trees, soon followed by a roar of thunder. His face tightened. “We need to get to lower ground,” he said. “Now.”
Pippa gestured helplessly at her ankle.
“Ah,” Wolfie said. “Sorry about this, then.” He ducked to her waist, arms encircling her body.
Pippa shrieked. “What are you—?”
Her words were cut off by her being suddenly flipped over his shoulder, fireman-style. He straightened up and Pippa squealed as wet branches scraped her shoulders.
“Keep your bloody head down!” Wolfie ordered, and Pippa was too shocked to do anything other than as she was told. Clinging onto Wolfie’s back, she kept her head as low as possible, all the while very conscious that her bum was nestled up against his cheek, her thin leggings soaked through to the skin and coated in mud. Her cheeks burned at the idea of what she must look like.
And yet she felt safe. Pippa realised she completely trusted the hands that gripped her close to him, even as he navigated their way down the precarious slope. Despite the uncertain terrain and her extra weight, Wolfie was sure-footed and calm. The thunder crashed so loudly it felt like the world was falling around her, but Wolfie remained steady. His every muscle was tense, each step carefully considered. Pippa craned her neck to look at the back of his head, an odd wave of emotion taking over. How many men would run out in a thunderstorm and carry someone to safety, putting themselves at risk the way Wolfie was right now? With every fibre of her being, Pippa knew Alex would probably have baulked. At least, he would have done pre-break up, back when he took her for granted. Because, as Wolfie worked the last few steps of the slope, it was clear to Pippa that Alex had taken her for granted their entire relationship. She’d beenhiscrutch, his support. The farm’s success was purely down to her. It hadn’t been a joint dream they were building together; it was her vision for the future that had suited Alex fine until it didn’t.
Wolfie reached the lower, flatter path with an audible sigh of relief and he crouched, letting her slide off his shoulders. He straightened, pausing when his face became level with hers.
“Do you want to lean on me from here?” Raindrops buffeted his face without mercy.
Pippa was mesmerised by a single drop of rain tracing its way over one of his exquisite cheekbones. She nodded, dreamlike. “Yes. I do.” She reached around his waist and the weight of his arm was across her shoulders once more. The duo began the slow journey down the path. Although Wolfie’s assistance made it easier to move, every step sent agonising jolts up her leg and when she saw the drywall, the gap leading out to the road, she wanted to cry in relief.
