Hopeful Hearts at Glendale Hall

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Hopeful Hearts at Glendale Hall Page 20

by Victoria Walters


  He leaned down and gave me a kiss. ‘I want to show you something,’ he said, climbing off the arm of the chair, and holding out his hand. I put the books down and let him pull me up.

  I followed Rory out into hallway where he opened the front door and opened it up. ‘You see that?’ he asked, pointing to the wooden post by the door. There was a definite dent in it. ‘When I was a teenager, my dad asked me to move the cows down the hill, so I got out the quad bike and was moving them when one of them got spooked by the bike, and started charging towards me,’ he said with a wry smile. ‘Well, I panicked. I was terrified so I turned the quad bike and started driving back towards the house. The cow kept on following, charging at me now, and I was so busy watching him that I didn’t realise how close I was to the house. I swerved but I hit this post.’

  ‘Oh my God,’ I said with a shudder.

  ‘I smashed up the bike and hurt my leg falling off it. The cow had followed me through the gate, which I had stupidly left open, and was happily eating my mother’s plants by the house when my dad found us.’ I smiled at that. Rory shook his head. ‘He was furious but couldn’t stop laughing at the sight. I had to work off the cost of fixing the bike, and wasn’t allowed to move the cows without my dad for the next year.’

  ‘I bet,’ I replied with a chuckle. ‘It must have hurt too.’

  ‘Mostly my pride thankfully.’ He turned to me and took both of my hands in his. ‘I’m telling you this because you seem to think that no one has ever made a mistake around here. I was an idiot that day. I got too close to the cows, I drove too fast, I left the gate open… I thought I knew it all and I quite clearly didn’t. And I still don’t. None of us do. So, when you say you have no place here, it frustrates me. This is your home. Your place is here,’ he said, firmly.

  I reached for him, wrapping my arms around him. He hugged me tightly back, his face in my hair, his arms solid around my back as I hung off his neck. ‘You, Rory Fraser, are incredible, you know that?’ I asked, pulling back to look at him.

  ‘Only because I have you,’ he replied. ‘I wish you could see how amazing you are.’

  ‘God, you’re going to make me cry,’ I told him, kissing him quickly. ‘Thank you for telling me that. I think I just always want to be perfect at everything, but you’re right, that’s impossible.’

  He reached out to brush my hair from my face. ‘I don’t want you to change but if you are worried about something, just talk to me about it, okay? I will always try to help, I promise you.’

  It was all I had ever wanted from a partner. ‘I love you, Rory Fraser,’ I replied. ‘And we’re going to stop this hotel. I want Harry to live here just like it is now – unspoilt.’

  ‘What if he doesn’t want to be a farmer though?’ Rory asked with a grin.

  ‘At least he will have the choice,’ I replied. ‘Now, go and have a shower, I need to do more research,’ I said, extracting myself from his arms, and closing the front door behind us.

  * * *

  Once the office opened, I phoned the body responsible for looking after listed buildings in Scotland and the man I spoke to was really helpful and guided me through the online form I had to complete to propose both Fraser and Hilltop Farm as properties to be listed, detailing as much information as I had about their building dates. The man was very interested and seemed to agree that they were good candidates for listing based on their history. I asked about the planning proposals already submitted for Hilltop Farm and they said they would let the council know that they were investigating the property so no planning permission could be granted until they had come to a decision. Which meant nothing was going to happen before Christmas, and we could breathe a little easier and relax over the holiday.

  I thought about what Rory had said. That my place was here. It felt good to be fighting for my home, that it really did feel like my home finally. I needed it to stay that way.

  After the long phone call, I finished up some chores and then found Rory and Harry outside feeding the horses in the paddock. I went over to join them, pulling up the hood of my coat as a light drizzle had started. ‘I think it might all be okay,’ I said, smiling, as Harry wrapped his arms around my legs when I reached them in the paddock filling up the hay trough. ‘All we can do now is wait for the decision.’

  ‘I never would have thought of this, Heather,’ Rory said, reaching up to pat Prince who had come straight over for hay. ‘Your mummy is very clever,’ he added to Harry. ‘You’d better read lots of books like she did so you can be as clever, because I definitely didn’t read growing up and look at me.’

  I laughed. ‘Luckily you have other qualities otherwise we’d be in trouble.’ He flicked a piece of hay at me.

  We all turned on hearing the sound of tyres on the gravel driveway announcing someone’s arrival at the farm. My heart sank when the car turned the corner and came into view. I recognised the black car instantly.

  ‘Who’s that?’ Rory asked, seeing my expression darken.

  I reached down to pick Harry up. ‘That’s Stewart,’ I said, exchanging a wary look with him. We moved out of the paddock, locking the gate, waiting as Stewart drove into the yard.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  ‘What the hell have you done?’ Stewart called out angrily, as he slammed his car door shut and marched towards us, his face looking a lot like thunder.

  Harry wriggled in my arms, frowning at his loud voice. ‘It’s okay, darling,’ I soothed. ‘Can you please calm down in front of my son?’ I said to Stewart, holding Harry closer to me.

  ‘I’ve just had the council on the phone,’ he continued, ignoring me. ‘Telling me that our planning proposal is on hold while the property is being investigated for grade listing.’ He threw his hands up in the air. ‘Why are you so bothered about me building on Hilltop?!’

  ‘Heather asked you to speak civilly,’ Rory said then, in a dangerously calm voice. ‘You are at our home, you will not speak to us like this.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ I said to Rory before turning to Stewart. ‘The reason I am bothered, as you put it, is that you’re planning to build right up to the boundary of our farm which will disrupt our animals, and you lied about that to me. I care about the land around here, and it needs to be protected. I will do all I can to achieve that. The farmhouse you want to demolish is hundreds of years old. It has been here forever. Future generations should be able to see it too.’

  Stewart snorted. ‘It’s been empty for two years. Who is going to take it on? You’re condemning it to be abandoned! I told you I’d protect your farm but now, I won’t even think about it.’

  ‘You only wanted to protect it if I came to work with you. You have an agenda here, Stewart, don’t pretend otherwise. You came to Glendale because you knew I lived here – you wanted to disrupt my life. Well, I won’t sit back and let you do that. You wanted a fight, so now you’ve got one.’

  His eyes flashed. ‘I can’t believe I ever missed you. You are pathetic, Heather. Fighting for a life you never wanted, a life you’ll never be good at, and I can tell you now it’s a fight you’re going to lose.’

  Rory stepped in front of Harry and me then. ‘If you think I’ll stand back while you threaten my family, you’re mistaken. I want you off my property right now. Or I’ll be forced to defend it,’ he told him.

  Stewart scoffed. ‘You think I’m scared of some country bumpkin in wellies?’ But he did step back. I was certain Stewart had never got into any kind of fight before and I was equally certain that Rory could take him, not that he would in front of his son.

  Rory didn’t rise to the bait. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared Stewart down. ‘I said I want you off my property right now,’ he repeated.

  ‘Oh, don’t worry, I wouldn’t want to stay in this place any longer than I had to,’ Stewart replied, looking around him with distaste. ‘You’ll be hearing from my lawyer,’ he added, before marching back to his car. We watched as he jumped in and roared away, tyres screeching a
s he left the farm.

  Harry was wriggling, annoyed, so I put him down on the grass, stunned by Stewart’s verbal attack on us. ‘Have we done the wrong thing in provoking him?’ I asked Rory quietly.

  He sucked in a breath and then faced me. ‘He wouldn’t be so riled if we weren’t doing the right thing. He knows we can win this, and that’s annoyed him.’ He shrugged. ‘We’re trying to protect our home and family, we’ve done nothing wrong.’ He reached for me and gave my shoulder a squeeze.

  I smiled gratefully. ‘I am sorry though that he’s here because of me.’

  ‘It’s not your fault.’ He looked down at Harry. ‘You know what I think we all need now? A mince pie!’

  ‘Mince pie,’ Harry repeated, enjoying the words. He reached for his dad’s leg and held it. Any mention of food always caught his attention.

  ‘Should we be worried now?’ I asked, taking Harry’s hand and leading him towards the house.

  Rory followed with a sigh. ‘You know him better than me.’

  ‘I thought I did. Turns out, he’s not the man I fell in love with.’ It was hard to believe that I had thought my future was with him. For once, I was glad that life hadn’t turned out the way I had planned.

  ‘Let’s try to put him out of our minds for Christmas,’ Rory said firmly. I nodded in agreement although I was worried about his talk of lawyers, of fighting us, of how angry we had made him. I watched Rory lift Harry into his chair at the table. My dad came in to join us for hot chocolate and mince pies, as the rain outside turned to sleet again, and I tried to relax but Stewart’s threats kept on replaying in my mind. I shivered as I watched my family, my heart full of love for all of them.

  Perhaps it was only when you thought you might lose something that you realised quite how much it meant to you.

  * * *

  The snow began in earnest on Christmas Eve. Angus, Rory and I moved the animals inside, making sure they had extra food and water, and the cows were back in the lower field once again. My dad looked after Harry in the warm house as the snow drifted around the farm.

  ‘I hope it doesn’t get too thick tomorrow,’ I said, as I shut Prince’s stable door. ‘And we can still get to the Hall.’ Beth was doing Christmas there for everyone, and I really didn’t want to miss it but if we were snowed in, there wasn’t a lot we could do about it. ‘Will you be able to get to your sister’s?’ I asked Angus who had led Duke into his stable.

  ‘I’ll be fine if not,’ he replied, with a shrug, unfazed as ever. ‘That lad has taken to you,’ he added as Prince leaned down to nuzzle my hair.

  ‘I think I might have taken to him too.’

  ‘Rory said you’re trying to stop that hotel over at Hilltop. This has been farming land for generations, I’m glad you’re doing something about it,’ he said, closing the stable door up. ‘People always go on about change being good but sometimes things need to be protected.’

  ‘I just hope we can stop it. I want Harry to have all this, one day, just as it is now.’

  Angus nodded. ‘When Rory’s grandfather bought the farm, he did it for the generations after him. We all want to leave our mark on this world in some way, don’t we? I know that old Sam would be gutted that his family didn’t want Hilltop – the farm he had loved all his life. It’s a damn shame that nephew of his can’t see its potential.’

  It was one of the longest speeches I’d ever heard from Angus since I had met him. ‘Do you think anyone would buy it and continue it as a farm?’

  ‘It’s possible. It worked really well for sheep back in its day. I remember Sam’s wife used to run a bed and breakfast there too when they were younger, it was really popular.’

  ‘That’s a good idea,’ I said, reaching up to give Prince one last pat. ‘Right, I need to get the stew on. You’re coming in tonight, aren’t you? Celebrate Christmas with us.’ I glanced at him.

  ‘Aye, I’ll be in,’ he replied gruffly, shuffling off, his big boots stomping across the yard.

  I smiled as he left. ‘I think he’s warming up to me,’ I confided in Prince. I thought about what he had said about Hilltop. It had made my mind start whirring with ideas, even though I wasn’t supposed to be thinking about it until after Christmas. But what he had said about running a bed and breakfast, and about me getting used to Prince…

  Snapping a photo of me with the horse for Instagram, I thought about the messages I still received each day from people struggling with everyday life, and wishing there was somewhere like our farm they could escape to. How people seemed to love hearing about the farm, and what the presenter of Countryside Watch said about us living a privileged life, how we were lucky even though it was such hard work.

  And as I posted the photo online to my ten thousand plus followers now, and counting, I wondered if there was a money-making possibility in that for us somehow.

  Chapter Thirty

  With all the Stewart drama, and preparing the farm for a snowfall, I really hadn’t had much time to think about the letter I had found in my mother’s things. But it was Christmas Eve, and I always missed her the most at this time so when I found myself alone for a few moments in the early evening, I slipped into the living room to look at the envelope again. The stew for dinner was in the Aga and Harry was having a nap. My dad had popped out while the snow wasn’t too bad, and Rory was finishing up the farm chores with Angus.

  I stared at her handwriting, and was overwhelmed with wanting to hear her voice again. I was still stunned that she’d written this letter for me. For my wedding day. It brought back all my feelings of not wanting to get married without her. She had loved weddings so much that it made so much sense that the one letter she left for me would be for that. It made me smile through the pain that she would think of it. I wondered when she had decided to write it. It must have been when she had realised she was too sick to get better. When she had realised that she wouldn’t be around to see me get married. My heart ached with how sad it was to know she had thought about that. And how upset she had clearly been.

  But like my mother always had done, she had thought of a way to try to be there for me anyway. So I wouldn’t have to try to get through it without her. The very thing I had dreaded for so long.

  I thought about Rory proposing to me last New Year’s Eve, it was almost a year ago and I hadn’t been able to tell him yes still. I still just couldn’t see the day without her, but perhaps this letter would give me some kind of sign as to what to do? But should I read it when it wasn’t actually my wedding day? I hadn’t told anyone yet about finding the letter, but I knew I needed some advice about what to do.

  ‘What’s that?’ Rory asked, coming in to see me curled on the sofa holding the brown envelope.

  I looked up at him in the doorway. I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer. ‘It’s a letter. I found it with my mum’s research.’ I showed him the outside. ‘It’s for me. She must have written it before she died.’

  ‘For your wedding day,’ he said, reading her words aloud in a soft voice. ‘You haven’t opened it?’

  ‘I’m scared to,’ I admitted. ‘I didn’t even want to tell you I had found it because it made it real, do you know what I mean? And should I even open it when it isn’t my wedding day?’ I glanced at him. I knew he was still waiting for me to accept his proposal, and I felt so bad that I might be hurting him by my continued silence on the subject.

  ‘Have you told your dad?’

  I shook my head. ‘Not yet.’

  ‘See what he says, he might know about it, and be able to advise you. I think your mum would be happy for you to read it when you need to, even if it’s not your wedding day, but only when you’re ready.’

  ‘What if I’m never ready?’ I asked, unsure if I was only talking about the letter.

  ‘It will wait until you are,’ he promised. I hoped he meant both the letter, and him. ‘Your dad is back by the way,’ he added. ‘I’ll pour some drinks.’

  ‘I’ll get Harry,’ I told him. He left me a
lone again and I tucked the envelope back into her journal, getting up to go upstairs. I wished I knew what my mum would want me to do.

  I missed her so much. On Christmas Eve, growing up, my mum would make us a stew followed by her famous apple crumble and then we’d play a board game, and I wanted to continue that tradition on for Harry. There was something wonderfully comforting about stew and mash in a warm, cosy kitchen, the snow falling outside, the house sheltering us from it. I thought back to those happy Christmases of my childhood as I cooked, wanting to make sure that I gave Harry the same happiness. I hoped he’d love Christmas just as much as I had growing up.

  ‘This looks delicious, love,’ Dad said when I lifted the lid of the pot in the centre of the table and the smell of beef, garlic and red wine floated out.

  ‘I used Mum’s recipe,’ I said, starting to spoon it out onto our plates.

  ‘You know, that comes from her mother. When we got married, your mum had never really cooked before so her mum told her to make this as it was foolproof,’ Dad said, remembering with a fond smile when I passed him his plate. He helped himself to mash and French beans. ‘It went so well, we ate it every day for a month. No joke.’

  ‘The things we do for love,’ Angus said, having a sip of his beer. We all turned to him, unable to hide our surprise. He noticed. ‘I was in love, a very long time ago, and we were about to get married… I was all set to leave the cottage and the farm, and move in to her parents’ house. They were wealthy, had a huge estate, I was ready to give up my life for hers,’ he said gruffly. ‘She became ill though. Didn’t get to see her twenty-fifth birthday. Needless to say, I was never tempted to leave here again.’

  My eyes filled with tears. ‘Oh, Angus, I’m sorry,’ I said, touched by the words he hadn’t said – that he hadn’t found anyone else. I, to be honest, had found it a tad strange moving into the farm with this older man living alone in the cottage at the edge of the grounds, only occasionally leaving to see his sister and nephew, but I understood him more than I ever had. I glanced at my dad – I knew he would never consider trying to find love again, and was reminded of Sally at Glendale Hall who had remained resolutely alone after the death of her husband. It was someone very special who made you unable to forget them after they had gone.

 

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