The House at Greenacres
Page 25
‘I can’t promise that I won’t be sad sometimes. I can’t promise that I won’t struggle with myself at times, that the darkness won’t shadow some of my days. I loved Dean and I’ll always be sad that he’s not around, living his life and making Mum and Dad proud. But what I can promise is that I know how to deal with my emotions now. I know that burying my pain is self-destructive, and I won’t ever do that again. I want to be the best dad to Luke that I can be, and if you want to be with me, I promise I’ll be the best version of me that I can offer to you. I swear to you, Holly Dryden, that if you give me another chance, you won’t regret it. I’ll spend the rest of my days doing everything within my power to make you happy.’
She sighed with relief as the fear she’d been carrying around finally released her and drifted away.
‘I want that too, Rich.’
‘May I kiss you now?’
‘Please do.’
She slid her arms around his neck and he pulled her closer. His kisses were gentle at first, his mouth soft and coaxing, but soon they grew more passionate, and the pain, sadness and confusion of the past year fell away.
Then they lay down together under the oak tree, and Rich showed Holly exactly how much he loved her, and she knew that this time it was for keeps.
Epilogue
Holly unlocked the barn doors and pushed them open to let the warm July air in. The scent of wood and lavender greeted her, and she smiled as she walked inside and flicked the light switch. Even though it was a beautiful bright morning, the large barn could be dark without electric lighting. She walked around the space, checking that every table had one of Fran’s candle holders at the centre, then she dropped a vanilla-scented votive candle into each. The barn had been reserved for a fortieth birthday party that evening, so there was a lot to do.
Four weeks had passed since the grand opening at Greenacres, and things were going better than Holly could have hoped. The vineyard shop was thriving, with Fran’s latest landscape paintings in such high demand due to their appearance on the website that she had orders for more taking her right up to Christmas. Her pottery was also selling well, her range of goblets and olive bowls proving particularly popular. Holly was enjoying seeing her friend on a daily basis; they had certainly made up for lost time and were closer than ever. They had even signed up to an Open University course in web design together, starting in the autumn. Holly was so busy at the vineyard that she didn’t want to attempt to take too many courses at once, but this was a start. She might go on to further studies once Luke was a bit older, but for now she wanted to learn more about how to make the website the best it could be.
The vineyard itself was running three wine-tasting tours a week, and they were planning to take on more staff to get them through the summer months – not just pickers this year, but people who could help with the tours too. Holly was still running the website and the blog, and Rich helped her out in the evenings and at weekends. The rental cottages were booked up until the following spring, and Holly’s idea of advertising them as writing retreats had led to one local best-selling author booking the barn for a week in the autumn to hold writing workshops there.
Bruce was walking around with a smile on his face and a spring in his step, and Holly was delighted to see him so happy. Janine had come to dinner every Sunday since the barn dance; it was clear that they were very fond of each other. Lucinda and Rex also joined them on Sundays, and it was wonderful to see how everyone doted on Luke. Holly’s heart was full of joy because her little boy had so many people to love him.
As for Rich, he’d been at Holly’s side since the night of the grand opening – except for when he had to go to work. They’d talked a lot more about what had happened to Dean and how it had affected Rich, and although it was hard to go over it all again, it also helped them both find a place where they could accept and move on. Dean would never be forgotten and he would always be a part of Rich’s life, but Rich no longer blamed himself.
Holly had told Rich that she loved what he’d done to Plum Tree Cottage and thought that it could be a potential future home for them, but for now, she wanted to stay at Greenacres. Bruce was busy with the vineyard and Janine, and Holly wanted to spend as much time with her granny as possible. She still wished she had been there to see her grandpa before he passed away, and she didn’t want to make the same mistake with Granny. So rather than Holly and Luke moving to Plum Tree Cottage, Rich had moved into Greenacres, and it was all working rather well. He had slotted back in as a member of the family, and he was so attentive and loving that Holly didn’t want for anything. They had put Plum Tree Cottage on the rental market, and within two days, Rich had received a phone call to say that he had a potential tenant: a single man in his thirties who was looking for a quiet location to rent for six months to a year. His references had checked out and he was taking up the tenancy in August.
Holly walked to the rear of the barn and looked up at the photograph of her mum and grandpa. They might be gone, but they would never be forgotten. Their legacy lived on and she felt certain that somehow they were watching over Greenacres and would be happy to see how well things were going.
A noise behind her startled her, and she turned to see Gelert in the doorway wagging his tail. He dropped a tennis ball on the floor and Holly smiled.
‘It’s that time is it, Gelert?’
He barked, then picked up the ball and ran out to the yard. Holly followed him, knowing that he wanted to play.
She’d thrown the ball around eight times, and Gelert had chased it and brought it back to her, expecting a repeat performance, when Rich called to her from the garden.
‘Holly, there’s a cold drink here for you.’
‘Come on, Gelert, let’s have a drink and cool down a bit.’
She walked back up to the garden and let Gelert in through the gate. He ran straight to his water bowl by the back door. Holly accepted a glass of lemonade from Rich and pressed it to her hot cheeks in turn.
‘He’d play fetch all day if I had the energy.’
‘He certainly would.’
‘Where’s Luke?’
‘In the lounge with Glenda. They’ve got the fan on and she’s reading him a story.’
‘He’ll have a wonderful vocabulary by the time he’s one at this rate.’ Holly giggled.
‘Your granny loves spending time with him.’
‘I know. That’s why we had to stay here. Every day as a family is precious.’
Rich took her glass from her and placed it on the table, then opened his arms and she stepped into his embrace.
‘I would be happy living anywhere with you, Holly.’
She gazed into his warm brown eyes and smiled. Theirs had been a difficult journey, but they had come through it stronger than ever.
‘I love you, Rich.’
‘I love you too.’
He kissed her gently, then took her hand and they walked into the house at Greenacres together, happy to be home.
Acknowledgements
My thanks go to:
My husband and children, for your love and support.
My three dogs for keeping me company as I write, edit and write some more.
My warm and wonderful agent, Amanda Preston at LBA, for your support and advice.
The fabulous team at Canelo, in particular my lovely editor Laura McCallen, for helping me to work through the issues in the first draft of this story to make it much stronger, as well as for patiently answering my many questions. Also, special thanks to the real Fran for letting me borrow your name.
Bob Lindo at Camel Valley in Cornwall, for answering my questions about running a vineyard, even when you were in the middle of pressing grapes.
The supporters of Greyhound Rescue Wales for helping me to choose a name for the scruffy little lurcher pup.
My author and blogger friends: thank you for cheerleading, offering advice and for being there.
The readers who come back for more and who take the time to
write reviews and share the book love.
First published in the United Kingdom in 2019 by Canelo
Canelo Digital Publishing Limited
57 Shepherds Lane
Beaconsfield, Bucks HP9 2DU
United Kingdom
Copyright © Darcie Boleyn, 2019
The moral right of Darcie Boleyn to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781788631198
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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