At the last minute the horse turned, reared into the air and threw the rider to the ground, and for one awful minute it seemed as though its hooves would descend and beat him to pulp.
‘Easy, boy…take it easy…’ Davie’s first thought was for the man who had landed awkwardly and was lying too still on the ground. The danger had not gone away, as the horse continued to snort and flail its legs in the air.
‘All right…easy, boy. Come on, now…easy.’ Several times Davie tried to calm it, but the horse was too agitated. With a final shake of its head, it galloped off across the field and back the way it had come.
Davie turned his attention to the man, who was now beginning to stir and moan. ‘Damned bloody brute! Got spooked by a rabbit and took off as if all the bats in hell were after him!’ Groaning in agony, he closed his eyes and lay still for a minute. ‘As for you, what in God’s name were you thinking of?’ He vented his rage on Davie. ‘You ruddy lunatic…you could have been killed!’
Wisely ignoring the stranger’s reprimands, Davie sat him up; no easy task as he was a man of stature. Some fifty years old or so, with earthy-coloured hair, brown eyes and a quick temper, he did not take kindly to being thrown to the ground.
‘Do you think you can stand?’ Davie enquired warily.
‘If you’ll give a helping hand, lad, I’m sure I’ll be just fine.’ With Davie’s assistance, the man struggled up, crying out when he tried to put his foot to the ground. His face was grey with pain. ‘Something’s wrong.’
Glancing down, Davie saw how the man’s right foot was twisted into an odd shape. ‘I reckon you’vegot a sprain,’ he told him. ‘Don’t try putting any weight on it.’ Sliding his arm round the man’s waist, he took the considerable weight to himself. ‘Where do you live?’
The man pointed towards the top of the field. ‘Over the hill,’ he said…‘A half-mile or so.’
‘Well, there are two things I can do,’ Davie explained. ‘I can try to make you comfortable and leave you here, while I run for help. Or, if you’re able and it’s not too painful, I can take your weight and we can hobble you home. Which is it to be?’
‘Get me home,’ the man answered determinedly. ‘And on the way you might forgive an old fool for cursing you, eh?’ Through his pain he had a warm smile.
Davie spent a few minutes searching for a sturdy fallen branch to act as a crutch under the man’s right armpit; while he supported him on the left, good side. The half-mile between them and the house seemed more like a hundred miles. The big man was a ton weight on his shoulder, and where he was clinging to Davie’s neck, the strain was unbearable. ‘Not long now,’ he kept assuring the older man. ‘Just another few steps and we’re there.’ And not too soon, he thought, because in spite of his own strong, muscular frame, Davie feared he could not support the man’s dead weight much longer.
As they neared the house, Davie thought how splendid it was. Constructed in red brick, with tall chimneys and long windows, it had acres of lawns and flowerbeds leading up to the driveway.
‘My late father lived in the cottage through the orchard,’ the injured man revealed. ‘He always planned to build a grand house on this plot, but somehow the finances were always beyond his reach. Before he died, he gave the land to me, and I was determined to keep his dream. I built this place twenty years ago, just before the war. I named it ‘‘The Willows’’, after my late wife’s favourite walk through the withy fields by the river.’
He took a moment to clear his throat and observe the house from its every graceful angle. ‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’ He turned to look at Davie. ‘Do you have family?’
Caught off guard, Davie wondered how he might truthfully answer that. But before he could reply, there was another question: ‘Do you have brothers?’
‘No.’
‘Sisters?’
‘No…except there is a girl called Judy. She and I grew up together. I can never recall a time when Judy wasn’t there. So yes, I expect you could say she’s the nearest thing I have to a sister.’
‘Mmm.’ The older man nodded his head. ‘Well, I’ve got one child, a daughter. Lucy is the light of my life – kind-hearted, hard-headed and even harder to argue with – so in my experience the best way is to let her imagine she’s got the upper hand. What do you say to that, eh?’
Davie smiled. ‘I’d say that was good thinking.’ The smile was wiped away with the next question.
‘Tell me…have you always been a good son?’
‘I hope so, sir. I’ve always tried my best.’ Sudden visions came to his mind – of his father walking out and his grandfather at the end of his tether. Oh, and the way it had been with his mammy! Rita’s face as she lay dying flashed before his eyes, and a lump in his throat threatened to choke him. Would the memories ever fade? Or would they haunt him for the rest of his life?
‘You have a wonderful place here, sir,’ Davie said quietly. ‘I was brought up in the middle of a busy town, with a street filled with people and more hustle and bustle than you could imagine. There were houses lined up on either side of us, and never a garden in sight. But for all that, I loved my home town. I thought I might be there for ever.’
Then, realising he was giving away too much of himself, he caught his breath. ‘It was just…well, something happened and I decided to leave and make my own way in the world. I thought I might be home sick, and I was for a while. But I’ve worked my way across the land and lived in many different places, and everywhere I’ve been, every road I’ve trod, and whether it be early morning or late at night, the world is alive with excitement…’
Despite his pain, the older man was mesmerised. ‘Goodness me! It seems to me that you have a great passion for life, young feller-me-lad!’
‘I’m sorry.’ Davie was mortified. ‘I didn’t mean to go on like that. I’m not usually so talkative.’
‘Oh, don’t be sorry,’ his companion advised. ‘Never apologise for what you feel inside. Any man, woman or child who doesn’t have passion for life is not alive at all, that’s what I say.’
He brought Davie’s attention to the slight figure of a young woman strolling across the gardens. ‘There she is! That’s my Lucy…the love liest creature you will ever lay eyes on.’
They were quickly spotted by the girl. Tall and slender, with long dark hair, she was dressed in a simple blue belted dress, and looked to be in her late teens.
At the sight of her badly limping father, she began running towards them. ‘Daddy? What’s happened? Has there been an accident? Where’s Madden?’
The big man snorted. ‘We gave him the right name, that’s for sure,’ he said. ‘Madden suits him fine be cause that’s just what he is…mad as a hatter.’
Glancing at Davie, he grumbled. ‘And here’s another mad devil – stood his ground with the horse coming full on at him. Damned crazy, the pair of ’em!’ He yelled in pain when his foot dragged over a molehill. ‘Jesus! I’ll have that blasted horse sent for the chop, that’s what I’ll do!’
The girl rolled her eyes at Davie. ‘He always says that,’ she informed him. ‘But he would no more send Madden for the chop, than he would send me.’
Her father laughed at that, but warned her all the same, ‘I know I promised you could have him next year when you’re eighteen, but I’ve changed my mind. That stallion is lethal. He’s wild and unpredictable. I’m taking no chances with you, Lucy love. We’ll get you another, calmer horse.’
‘Dad, I don’t want a calmer horse. I love Madden.’
In too much pain to argue, her father let it go. But his mind was made up. As far as he was concerned, his precious daughter would never be allowed on that black hell-devil’s back. He would issue that same directive to all concerned, and after what happened today, the sooner it was done, the better.
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘WHAT ON EARTH have you been up to now?’ The elderly doctor had served the Thomson family for many years, and he felt the right to chide his patient for his fool
hardiness. ‘I told you that beast would get the better of you one day, and I was right.’
Raising Frank Thomson’s foot to the stool, he set about cutting his sock off. When the full extent of the injury was revealed, he announced with some satisfaction, ‘You’ve managed to break your foot, in two places if not more.’To prove his point, he prodded a finger on the swollen arches, looking up through the edge of his spectacles when Frank cried out, ‘Steady on, man! You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, you sadist?’
The doctor gave an a side wink at Lucy. ‘Anybody would think he was in pain.’
Shaking a fist, the other man yelled and cursed, declaring, ‘You’re too old and crotchety to be a doctor! You are bad mannered and rough, and you relish other folks’ pain. I reckon you should have been struck off years ago.’
Ignoring his rantings, Doctor Montgomery took charge of organising things, and within twenty minutes of his arrival, he had Davie in the front of his big Humber car, and Lucy and her father in the back. ‘And don’t start any of that moaning and complaining,’ the doctor warned him. ‘I need to concentrate on the road.’
‘I’m not surprised!’ Frank retaliated. ‘You can barely see straight even when you’ve got your glasses on.’
‘Behave yourself, Daddy!’ Lucy had witnessed these two bantering for too many years, and now if they didn’t do it, she would be worried.
Half an hour later they arrived at Bedford Hospital. Davie and Lucy helped Frank hobble to a seat, while the doctor went in search of assistance.
Frank’s foot was now swollen to twice its normal size. To distract himself from the pain, he turned to Davie. ‘It’s as well you were there, my boy,’ he told him. ‘You did a foolish thing, though…turning Madden like that, and putting yourself in mortal danger.’
‘There wasn’t time to think about being in danger,’ Davie said honestly. ‘It was an instant reaction.’
‘All the same, if you hadn’t been there, I’m sure that mad bugger would have trampled me on the road.’ Reaching out, he shook Davie by the hand.
‘I’m very grateful to you. Thank you, young man.’
‘I’m grateful, too.’ When Lucy smiled up at him, Davie thought how lovely she was; soft-natured and with a smile warm enough to melt any man’s heart. And just for the briefest moment, he thought of Judy. But it was a different kind of thinking; protective and caring, and feeling responsible, while with Lucy there was a stirring of something else – a sensation he had not experienced before.
‘What were you doing around here in the first place?’ Frank’s voice cut through his thoughts.
‘I was looking for a place called ‘‘Greenacres Farm’’.’
Frank looked surprised. ‘Were you now?’
‘Who do you know at Greenacres?’ That was Lucy.
Taking out the box, Davie removed the piece of paper given to him by Eli and passed it to Lucy. ‘I was told this man might find me work, and a place to stay.’
Lucy read the note and quickly handed it to her father, who cast his eye over it. ‘So! You were looking for Ted Baker?’
‘That’s right.’ Davie had noticed the look that passed between father and daughter. ‘Do you know him, by any chance?’
Momentarily brushing aside Davie’s question, Frank informed him, ‘I own most farms here abouts, including Greenacres Farm.’
‘So you do know Ted Baker?’ Davie was greatly relieved. ‘Do you think he’s in need of an extra labourer?’
‘I don’t think he needs anything right now,’ Frank said respectfully. ‘Ted Baker passed away last year…I’m sorry, son. The farm is now being run by another of my tenants. I’ve amalgamated the two farms, and as far as I’m informed, he has more than enough help at the minute.’
Seeing how the news had sent Davie into a sombre mood, he suggested, ‘You obviously have a way with horses, so, if you’re interested, I might have need of a strong young man myself.’
He quickly explained. ‘I have six farms including my own. Five of them are tenanted out; of those, three of them are crop-producing and two are cattle-rearing. Mine does neither, because it’s entirely turned over to breeding horses and, though I say it myself, it’s one of the best studs in the country. My father started it in a smaller way some many years ago, and I was fortunate enough to have it handed down to me. It wasn’t the biggest or the best then.’ He smiled proudly. ‘But it is now.’
‘Everyone knows Thomson’s Stud Farm,’ Lucy added. ‘Daddy’s worked hard and sometimes he’s been knocked back, but he’s never been swayed from his goal.’
‘Lucy’s right.’ Frank had not forgotten the bad times. ‘There were moments when I thought I should give up.’ He paused, then said, ‘I lost my mother soon after Lucy was born. Some three years later, my father died too.’ His loving gaze fell on his daughter. ‘In that same year, my beloved wife Ruthie fell ill and never recovered.’
As Lucy’s hand reached out to hold his, he told Davie, ‘For a while, I could think only of what I had lost. My heart went out of my work, and things started to fall apart. But then I began to realise the wonderful things they had all left to me. My father left me his beloved farm, and the wisdom and experience he had learned through his life. My mother left me with a well of love and devotion that would carry me through every new day for as long as I live.’
He turned to smile on his daughter. ‘And Ruthie left me with the most precious thing of all – my darling Lucy, the light of my life.’
Addressing Davie, he went on, ‘Instead of thinking of what I’d lost, I suddenly realised what I had gained, and I began to count my blessings. And now I’ved one what I set out to do; I had a dream, and I stayed with it.’
He nodded, as though congratulating himself. ‘Yes, it’s taken a lot of work and courage to build my empire, and I don’t mind saying, I’m proud of what I’ve achieved. I breed the best horses and I have a reputation for being a fair and honest man. Once Lucy left school, she learned typing and book-keeping, and she pulls her weight in running the business.’ He squeezed her hand fondly.
Looking back for a moment, he was lost in the struggle he’d encountered in the early years. ‘It’s been a hard road,’ he murmured. ‘But I made it, and by God, I’m not finished yet!’ Pride shone from his face. ‘At the last count I had thirty-eight fine mares all in foal, and every foal already sold for a handsome profit. I have sixteen magnificent colts growing on for breeding stock; and I own twelve of the most prized and proven stallions you could find this side of Ireland or America.’
Davie was duly impressed, not only with Frank Thomson’s determination, but also with the man himself.
‘I admire you for what you’ved one with your life.’ This was the first time Davie had met anyone who had actually realised their dream. ‘Some day, I mean to build an empire myself.’ As yet, though, he was still floundering in the dark. ‘I’m not sure what direction I might take, or what it is I really want to do. All I know is, I need to make my mark on the world, and I won’t rest until I’ve created something to be proud of.’
Frank gave no answer. Instead, he discreetly observed Davie, and knew instinctively that something must have happened in his short life, to make him grow up before his time. For someone so young he had a manliness about him; the kind of strength that only comes with pain and courage. There was a loneliness too, a deep-down loneliness that sets a man apart from the crowd.
He also saw the glint in Davie’s eye and heard the passion in his voice, and he saw himself as a young man. ‘Come and work for me,’ he suggested quietly. ‘I’ve an idea you and me will get on all right.’
Lucy had been surprised at how quickly her father had taken to Davie; she was pleased, as she knew he did not suffer fools gladly. She too had been drawn to take notice of this stranger who had entered their lives. There was something about him, something special and driven. He spoke with conviction and he had that certain way with him, that instinctively made you feel you could trust him. ‘Are you very d
isappointed?’ she asked. ‘About Ted Baker?’
‘I am, yes.’ Davie could not deny it. ‘It seems such a pity,’ he answered thoughtfully. ‘After Eli spoke so highly of him, I was really looking forward to making his acquaintance.’ Coming all this way south, only to be told that Ted Baker was long gone, had been something of a setback. But here he was being given a chance to work, and that was some measure of compensation.
‘You will come and work at the farm, won’t you?’ Realising she didn’t even know his name, Lucy asked, ‘What do we call you?’
‘Dave.’ He surprised himself by the shorter name he gave, and yet in that moment, here in this place, it was somehow very right. ‘My name is Dave Adams,’ he told her proudly.
The child ‘Davie’ was gone for ever. He was a man now. With a man’s work ahead of him.
‘I’m Lucy Thomson.’ When she reached out to shake him by the hand, he instinctively hesitated. She was so lovely, so enticing, and he had never been more nervous than he was right now.
Gathering his courage, he shook her by the hand. He held that small soft hand in his, and his heart quickened.
‘And I’m Frank – Mr Thomson to you.’ The big man had a stern look in his eye. ‘It’s best you know from the start – I insist on respect from the men in my employ.’
‘Not from the women though, eh?’ Lucy laughed.
Her father gave her a scathing glance. ‘If you’re referring to Maggie, I’ll have you know she’s been treading a fine line; that woman is far too bossy for her own good.’ He scowled at Dave. ‘One of these days she’ll get her marching orders, you’ll see if she won’t!’
Just then the doctor returned with a wheel chair in tow. ‘Right, it’s all in order.’ Hands on hips, he looked down on his patient. ‘We’re off to the X-ray room.’ And without more ado, he bundled Frank into the wheel chair and whisked him away.
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