by Heidi Swain
‘I’m so sorry,’ I said again, as his lips met mine.
‘I know,’ he said, when he eventually pulled away and, holding me by the tops of my arms, stared down into my tear-streaked face, ‘I know you are and so am I. I love you, Hayley, but I don’t know how I can possibly move forward when I’m still not sure that I should.’
At least now he sounded slightly more inclined to consider that he might.
‘Well, what about if we take really tiny steps,’ I suggested. ‘We’ll talk about things and take our time and not expect to be able to run before we’ve barely fallen into step.’
‘But I’m so scared of getting it wrong,’ Gabe croaked. ‘I don’t think I could bear it if I couldn’t keep up with you emotionally and ended up losing you, too.’
‘I’m not going to rush off anywhere,’ I told him, ‘emotionally or otherwise. You don’t have to worry about that.’
Gabe stifled a sob of his own and nodded and we stayed, locked in each other’s arms until the cold eventually forced its way into our embrace.
‘Could we go inside, do you think?’ I sniffed, looking towards the caravan and beautiful, big Bran framed in the doorway.
‘No,’ said Gabe, as he wiped a hand over his eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Hayley, but I don’t think that would be a good idea.’
I couldn’t believe it. From the strength of his hold on me I thought we were going to be OK. I had dared to believe that everything was going to be all right. I dropped my hands to my sides and pulled away from the arm he still had wrapped around me.
‘There’s no room,’ he smiled, banishing my fears in a heartbeat and pulling me close again, ‘the two of us have been going stir crazy tripping over each other. I don’t think we can squeeze another thing in there, not even a little pain in the backside like you!’
I shoved him hard in the chest and rolled my eyes.
‘So why have you stayed then?’ I laughed, pointing at the van. ‘Why didn’t you just pack up your truck and find somewhere bigger?’
‘Because I knew as soon as I posted that letter that I’d made a mistake,’ he said gruffly, ‘I knew I wasn’t going to be able to let you go and I hoped—’
‘Yes?’
‘I guess I hoped that you would come and find me.’
‘Really?’
‘Even though I still wasn’t completely sure it would be the right thing, I wanted you to rescue me.’
I snuggled back into his arms. I had no idea that sometimes angels needed us every bit as much as we needed them.
Chapter 32
The Wynthorpe Hall snowflake-inspired Christmas party was every bit as exquisite as you could imagine. The frosty theme was elegant and not at all overdone, and Anna and Catherine were thrilled with the results. The yule log burnt brightly in the magnificent grate, ensuring the guests wore a rosy glow in spite of the snowy seasonal decorations. The air was filled with the spicy scent of mulled wine and the festive fare Dorothy had made, including yet more cinnamon swirls, which filled the packed buffet tables. The Christmas tree decoration competition winner – the book club and library this year – had been left in situ along with the family’s own magnificent tree, and everyone dressed as the invitations requested, thrilled to be a part of another Wynthorpe celebration.
Gabe and I were a little late in arriving, even though we had the shortest journey to make. But that was not, as Archie suggested, because we couldn’t be bothered to get out of bed, but because we had been talking to Mags and making arrangements for when Jareth, the barn owl, would be joining us in the New Year.
Fortunately, it hadn’t taken too much effort on my part to convince Gabe that coming back to the hall for Christmas was going to be a far better option than staying in Lottie’s caravan, as pretty as it was, and we had been holed up in Gatekeeper’s Cottage together pretty much ever since. He had even admitted to me that, when he first arrived at the hall, Molly had assured him how she envisaged his year was going to end, but he hadn’t believed her. He thought it was impossible for so much to change in such a short space of time.
I couldn’t recall a time in my life when I had been happier, and it was a feeling I knew I would enjoy getting used to now that I had finally convinced Gabe that we had a happy future ahead of us.
I’d been through a lot during the last few months, not all of it good, but had settled in my new home with the love of a wonderful man to keep me warm and a new career on the horizon. I couldn’t possibly wish for more.
I had no intention of giving up my work at the hall, but the thought of combining my old job with something new was thrilling and I was looking forward to building stronger bridges with Mum, who I wished every happiness in her new venture as she planned to escape my father’s lazy clutches. The new year was going to hold a great deal of joy for both the Hurren girls.
‘Hayley,’ smiled Jamie, when Gabe and I finally arrived at the party, ‘crikey, you scrub up all right, don’t you?’
‘What a charmer!’ I laughed, as he took in my navy dress with a more appreciative eye.
It was a girlie frock for me – strapless with a full skirt, white net petticoats and a white ribbon around the waist. I had expected to feel trussed up in it and completely out of my comfort zone, but actually it was all right. With my hair pinned up and pretty drop pearl earrings demurely dangling, I was almost elegant. Almost.
‘But isn’t that—?’ Jamie frowned as Molly and Anna skipped into view and he took the three of us in.
‘Yes,’ I smiled, linking arms with my two friends, ‘it is.’
We looked at one another and laughed. Anna and Molly’s dresses were exactly the same as mine, only Anna had gone for white and Molly was in ice blue, which set off her almost tamed red hair beautifully.
‘I told you it would work,’ said Anna, with a wink. ‘Didn’t I say it would be fun?’
I had thought she was mad when she suggested the three of us went for the same frock, but she was right, it worked well, and Anna, almost bride-like, was radiant. Jamie held out his hand for her and I took a step forward.
‘If you don’t ask her to marry you, tonight,’ I whispered in his ear, ‘then you’re even more of a fool than I am.’
He looked at me and smiled and I just knew that a proposal was right at the top of his agenda. I looked at Archie, his fingers lightly touching Molly’s creamy shoulders, and wondered if he was thinking the same thing.
‘Hayley Hurren,’ tutted Gabe, as we watched the others walk away and he pulled me towards where everyone was dancing, ‘I seriously hope you weren’t interfering in matters of the heart?’
‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ I laughed up at him. ‘I’m hardly qualified, am I?’
‘Oh, I don’t know about that,’ he smiled as we began to gently sway in time with the music, ‘I don’t know about that at all.’
The evening passed by in a happy blur and the only time the hall was quiet was when Angus made his trademark speech. He thanked the guests for coming and for contributing so generously to swelling the charity funds, as well as for the part everyone had played in helping with the Winter Wonderland, which he hoped would become a regular feature in the Wynthorpe calendar from now on.
‘I would also like to properly welcome our two new residents,’ he added, pointing to where Gabe and I were standing, trying to melt into the background, ‘and finally,’ he beamed, raising his glass and looking as if he were about to burst out of his waistcoat with pride, ‘I would like to hand over to my youngest son, Jamie, who has something he would like to say.’
‘Thanks, Dad,’ Jamie grinned, pulling Anna along with him. ‘I won’t keep you long everyone, I just have something I would like to ask Anna.’
Everyone, Anna included, gasped as he turned and went down on one knee.
‘Anna,’ he beamed, pulling something large and glittering out of his jacket pocket, ‘you know I love you more than Dorothy’s Sunday dinners, don’t you?’
She laughed and rolled her eyes, her che
eks glowing as she shook her head.
‘Even the chicken one with the special gravy?’ she giggled.
‘Even that one,’ he swallowed, suddenly looking more serious. ‘Will you make me the happiest man in the world? Will you promise to eat Sunday dinner with me always? Will you marry me?’
You could have heard a pin drop as everyone held their breath and leant in, desperate to hear her answer.
‘Of course I will!’ she beamed. ‘Yes!’
Jamie slipped the ring on her finger and then jumped to his feet, swept her into his arms and kissed her tenderly. The room erupted in cheers, claps and whoops.
‘Would you all, please,’ cried Angus, with Catherine now close to his side, ‘join us in raising our glasses to toast Jamie and our future daughter-in-law, Anna.’
‘To Jamie and Anna!’ the guests chorused, before their voices were drowned out with yet more claps and cheers as the happy couple were swallowed up by well-wishers all wanting to offer their own congratulations.
‘You knew, didn’t you?’ laughed Anna, when I finally found my way through to her.
‘I had an inkling,’ I smiled, kissing her cheek. ‘But I had no idea he was going to bring Dorothy’s beloved roast dinners into it! I know you will both be very happy,’ I told her, determined not to get all teary again as Archie filled the gap between us. ‘Come on,’ I said to Gabe, pulling him towards the door while everyone else was preoccupied with the happy couple. ‘Come with me. I have something for you.’
‘Oh, Hayley,’ he laughed, ‘I don’t think I have the energy. Not again.’
‘It’s not that,’ I burst out laughing.
I laughed even louder when I saw the look of disappointment on his face.
‘I do have a present for you,’ I explained, ‘but it’s not me. You can unwrap me later, though, if you like.’
‘I like the sound of that,’ he said with a glint in his eye, shrugging off his jacket and wrapping it around my shoulders.
Not surprisingly, we didn’t make it back to the party and Gabe didn’t unwrap his present before he’d unwrapped me either. Lying in his bed in Gatekeeper’s Cottage, our clothes in an abandoned pile on the floor, I reached over the side and picked up the gift I had taken so much time over.
‘I hope you like it,’ I said, hardly able to watch as he tore at the paper with every bit as much enthusiasm as Anna had shown on her birthday.
I peeped over the duvet as he slowly took it all in. My heart began to panic when he didn’t say anything and I hoped I hadn’t crossed the line. Perhaps I should have concentrated on the sketch I had almost finished of him and Bran instead.
‘I thought you could put it up above the fire,’ I suggested, feeling worried that my true intentions were about to be misconstrued. ‘These few months,’ I went on, ‘being here and being with you, have made me realise that there are some things you should face up to rather than shy away from. There are some experiences in life that are too important to pack away and try to pretend never happened, even if they didn’t end how you hoped they would.’
He nodded, but still didn’t say anything.
‘Life’s too short not to acknowledge the good bits,’ I tried again.
Gabe put the painting down on the bed and pulled me to him.
‘It’s absolutely beautiful,’ he said, ‘thank you.’
I felt the tension that had been building in my shoulders slip away.
‘And you’re right,’ he whispered, ‘I’ve been running long enough. I do need to acknowledge the good times, every bit as much as you need to accept that, deep down, you’re a bit of a softie, Hayley Hurren.’
There was no arguing with that. I reached out and tilted the frame just enough so I could see it. Gabe and his daughter were on the beach, heads bent together as they explored a rock pool on a sunny day. I had taken the inspiration from a photograph I saw the night we first ended up in bed together. I knew he needed to remember the good times he had shared with his daughter and I wanted to create something new that would enable him to do that.
‘I’m afraid,’ he said, kissing the top of my head, ‘that I still haven’t got a Christmas present for you.’
‘I shouldn’t worry about that,’ I told him, melting back down into the bed, ‘you’ve given me the greatest gift of all, my guardian angel, and I’ll never want for anything more.’
‘I thought,’ he said, laying the painting carefully to one side so he could join me under the duvet, ‘you were the sort of girl who maintained that she wasn’t looking for love?’
I was delighted that he knew what I was talking about.
‘No,’ I giggled, ‘that wasn’t me. That was some other girl who used to hang around here, but she’s gone now,’ I told him. ‘I’m a champion for true love and I always will be.’
Acknowledgements
A little over a year ago I had the pleasure of writing the acknowledgements for Sleigh Rides and Silver Bells. At the time I had no idea how Anna, the Connelly family and Wynthorpe Hall would be received, but I was soon to find out. To my delight, the entire Wynthorpe clan was awarded the warmest welcome into the world, my dreams of becoming a Sunday Times bestseller were realised and the opportunity to make a return visit to the hall was guaranteed. Last Christmas was, without doubt, one of the best ever and I am full of hope that the festive magic sprinkled throughout the pages of this new book will weave its way into your hearts and enhance your seasonal spirit yet again!
As always, I have had the assistance of a professional and dedicated team to help me tell this tale. My agent, Amanda Preston, my editor, Emma Capron, along with Rebecca Farrell, Gemma Conley-Smith, Pip Watkins, Harriett Collins, Hayley McMullan, Alice Rodgers and S-J Virtue, in fact the entire Books and the City Team, have all been on hand. Thank you all so much. You all go above and beyond and the opportunity to work alongside you makes me one very happy author.
And talking of going above and beyond . . .
The fabulous book blogging community have also, yet again, had a helping hand in spreading the word about this book by way of tweets and Facebook posts, by signing up to take part in blog tours, coming along to events, sharing covers online and organising giveaways. Thank you all for making this year even more thrilling than the last.
The same of course can be said for my author chums, especially those close to home, who provide friendship, support and most importantly human contact! Writing can be a solitary business so thank you Jen, Clare, Rosie et al for dragging me away from the screen when time allows.
And where would I be without you wonderful readers? Please do keep messaging, mailing and sending those brilliant #shelfies. Each and every one is appreciated and reminds me that the world of Wynbridge and Nightingale Square extends much further than the meanderings of my imagination. There is no greater reward for the hours at the keyboard than discovering that the words have hit the spot, inspired someone to take up a new hobby, get in touch with old friends or perhaps even celebrate the festive season again.
And last, but by absolutely no means least, sits the family. There they are, patiently waiting with the cat, for the end of another writing day and, if I’m lucky, a reviving cup of tea, to help ease the transition from my fictional world back into the real one. I’m certain that living with an author can’t be easy but you all pull it off with aplomb. Thank you.
All that remains is for me to wish you all a very merry Christmas. May your bookshelves – be they virtual or real – always be filled with fabulous fiction!
H x
Curl up with Heidi Swain for cupcakes, crafting and love at The Cherry Tree Café
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