‘Caleb Nash,’ he said.
‘Of course! I remember thinking you sounded like a country singer.’
‘A what?’
‘A country music singer,’ I said. ‘You know, like…’ I reached for the name of a country singer and the only one I could land on was Dolly Parton. Despite my head telling me not to say her name out loud, my mouth paid no heed. I cringed inwardly as Caleb raised his eyebrows, his expression deadpan.
‘Maybe it’s the Nash part like Nashville,’ I continued, wishing the ground would swallow me up. Even the dogs were looking at me as though I’d lost the plot.
‘Anyway, it’s been a long day – nine-hour drive up from Berkshire – but it’s an exciting new adventure for us all and I can’t wait to get started.’ Why was I still talking?
‘Yeah, well, good luck with that,’ he said. ‘You’re gonna need it.’
He set off at pace, Scampi running after him.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I called, but he didn’t turn.
Despite the warmth of the evening, goose bumps broke out all over my arms and I shivered. As though sensing I was feeling perturbed by the less than friendly encounter with my tenant, Nova nudged my legs with her nose. I sank down to my knees and wrapped my arms around her. She really was the most wonderful dog, always in tune with my feelings and there with a cuddle whenever she sensed I was down.
‘It’s going to be all right,’ I murmured. ‘We might have inherited a grumpy tenant but, as long as he pays his rent on time, we don’t have to be friends, do we?’
Skye – who was just as affectionate and empathetic as her mam – nuzzled against me and I gave her a stroke too. Presumably the positive feedback Mam had heard when she’d asked around about Caleb had been about his work rather than his personality. Considering I was his landlady, I’d have expected him to be friendlier but I wasn’t going to waste any time worrying about it when I had far more important things to focus on. I scrambled to my feet and brushed the dirt from my jeans.
‘Come on, girls, we’ll have a proper walk now and put our encounter with grumpy Dolly Parton out of our minds.’
I couldn’t believe I’d said that to him. It wasn’t like me to get tongue-tied and spout gibberish. The long journey with very little conversation had a lot to answer for.
I led the dogs along the track to my right, taking me to the stables. The horses had been in the fields at the back of the farm when we’d had our viewing in February but now they were in the front fields.
‘Hello, beautiful,’ I said to the brown Shire standing by the metal gate of the first pasture. ‘I’m Grace and I’m your new owner. I’m so sorry but I don’t know whether you’re Hera or Demeter.’
Anna Garstang had provided my solicitor with a list of names, breeds, ages and medical histories of all the animals as part of the sale particulars. As there were some duplicate breeds such as two female Shires, she’d promised to email me named photos but that information had never materialised.
There was someone who’d be able to fill in the blanks for me but it was frustrating in the meantime. Willow – a sixteen-year-old from Rowanbridge – had offered free grooming services for several years in exchange for being allowed to ride the horses. Anna had told me she was eager to stay on but I hadn’t been willing to commit to longer than a fortnight’s handover. For a start, I’d never been comfortable with non-payment arrangements like that – much better to have a formal contract in place with hours and responsibilities agreed in exchange for a fair wage. Secondly, having already inherited a long-term tenant, I wasn’t sure I wanted to take on any staff – even voluntary ones – who I hadn’t chosen myself.
I’d have liked to speak to Willow before we arrived to explain the situation but sending me her contact details was something else Anna had failed to do and my guess was that she hadn’t passed on mine or Willow would surely have been in touch. I had no idea whether the request for a fortnight’s handover hadeven reached Willow but Mam had confirmed that someone – presumably Willow – had been seeing to the horses each morning. She must have been exceptionally early as she’d left before Mam rose so my plan was to get up extra early in the morning to catch her. Hopefully she’d be friendlier than Caleb Nash.
11
I’d only intended to be out for an hour but nearly two had passed by the time I returned to the farmhouse.
‘Hello?’ I called, but there was no response.
Something smelled delicious and I opened the oven door, spotting a lasagne on the shelf, half of it gone. I’d feed the dogs then sort out my tea.
‘Grace!’ Mam exclaimed as I was dishing up a portion of lasagne onto my plate while the dogs tucked into their food. ‘I didn’t hear you returning.’
‘I called but there was no answer.’
‘I was helping Maddie make her bed. She feels bad about earlier.’
‘She specifically said that?’
‘No, but I could tell. She hasn’t named the guinea pigs yet. She wants your thoughts.’
I put my plate in the microwave and set the timer away.
‘There’s some salad too.’ Mam retrieved a bowl from the fridge and placed it on the table.
