Classic Bestsellers from Josephine Cox: Bumper Collection. Josephine Cox

falling out.

      ‘Ready, are you?’ Disappointed that she had preferred not to sit in the front with him, Luke switched on the engine and slipped into gear. A gentle touch on the accelerator and they were away down the street.

      When, a short time later, they began passing familiar sights to leave Blackburn behind, Amy couldn’t help but feel excited. The industrial outskirts of the town grew less dense, the streets were wider and already the air was cleaner.

      As if concerned that she might be uneasy, Luke slightly turned his head to ask, ‘You’re very quiet back there. You’re not sorry you accepted my invitation, are you?’

      ‘No, course not!’ Amy was quick to reassure him, ‘I’m just wondering how far it is now, that’s all?’

      The gloomy, overcast day was quickly sliding into a kind of twilight. A moment ago they had turned off into a country lane; unlit and eerie, it made her nervous, though Johnny appeared to be loving every minute of the ride, with his nose stuck to the window, while giving her a detailed account of everything he could see.

      ‘There’s lots of water,’ he told her now, when they were speeding along through the countryside. ‘And stones and trees, and everything.’ He laughed with excitement. ‘I’d like to play down there.’

      ‘That’s the brook,’ Luke enlightened him. ‘It means we’re only half a mile from the cabin, but you’ll not be able to see very much from here on as the woodland thickens, so much so that the daylight is shut out in places.’

      ‘I don’t know if I like the sound of that,’ Amy said. ‘It must be gloomy in winter.’

      ‘I love it,’ he told her, ‘but you needn’t worry. I created a large clearing before I began to build. There’s plenty of sky and space immediately round the cabin.’

      Amy was impressed. ‘You mean you built the cabin yourself?’

      Luke smiled at her through the rear-view mirror. ‘Isn’t that what men do … build things?’

      Amy gave a cynical little laugh. ‘Not the men I know.’

      Intrigued and a little perturbed by her remark, he asked, ‘And how many men have you “known”?’

      Amy explained. ‘None to speak of. There’s my father, who’s the loveliest man in the world. He can drive a wagon and sell snow to Eskimos, but I doubt if he could ever build a cabin. Then there’s the only other man who ever seriously meant anything to me, and he would tell you himself, he couldn’t even build a fire.’

      Her mind went back to the days when she and Don were happily making plans to be man and wife, and all too soon those plans lay in ruins. ‘No. You’d never see the day when Don Carson would tackle building a cabin.’ Suddenly she wanted to talk about Don to this kind, gentle man who had invited her to share his private place. It was a way of finally exorcising Don from her life as a bad thing and turning him into a bit of a joke, a harmless, slightly foolish figure without the power to hurt her any longer.

      One small memory made her chuckle. ‘He once put up some shelves in my parents’ shop. When it was finished, our mam put a few containers of biscuits up there and the whole lot fell down, taking half the wall with it.’

      In a quieter, more serious voice, she revealed, ‘Me and Don were to be wed, but he backed out at the last minute.’

      Not knowing what to say, Luke answered limply, ‘I’m sorry.’

      ‘No! It’s all right.’ Mortified at having confessed to something so private, Amy replied in a brighter voice. ‘Happen it was just as well. I’m not sure I’d like shelves and cupboards falling down round my ears.’

      They laughed at that, and then fell silent.

      Amy considered herself fortunate to have got over the trauma of what Don had done to her. She had learned to be philosophical about it. What was done was done, and there was no changing it now, even if she wanted to, which she didn’t. In some ways, she thought, she had had a lucky escape. She’d loved Don, yes, but she’d never quite been comfortable with him. It was as if she had felt he was holding something of himself back from her. And now, of course, she had her romance with Jack, who was open and honest as a man could be, and with whom she felt entirely comfortable – although not deeply in love.

      Concentrating on skirting the many puddles in the lane, Luke reflected on what she had told him. He had no right to feel envious of this man Don Carson, but he did. In fact he thought the man was a fool for not going ahead with the marriage. To his mind, Amy was the loveliest person he’d ever met and, given half a chance, he would have been proud to take her as his wife. While Amy’s face was open and honest and readable, Sylvia could, even before her illness, be such hard work. She liked to manipulate and her motives were often unclear. She was intriguing, beautiful and never dull, but nor was she, increasingly since he’d married her, entirely comfortable to be with.

      ‘Well, here we are.’ Slowing the car to a crawl, Luke manoeuvred down the narrowing trackway, and the further he went, the further behind them seemed the daylight skies.

      Above them, the isolated pockets of light flickered through the tree-tops, creating little specks of dancing brilliance, and Johnny, like Amy, thought it was magical.

      Then suddenly the trees that had blocked their path and made the going difficult, seemed to open a way before them, and they were in a large open clearing surrounded by woodland. Just within sight came the glimmer of water as it skipped and tumbled its way through the forest.

      ‘Oh, it’s just beautiful!’ Peering through the window, Amy was mesmerised.

      Luke drew the car to a standstill and pointed to the wooden building ahead. ‘There she is,’ he cried, ‘my pride and glory.’

      Clambering out of the car behind Johnny, Amy took stock of the cabin. Larger than she had imagined, it was like a miniature house, with a front door of sizeable proportions, and long, small-paned windows either side. The slightly crooked chimney only added to its charm, and the wide, beautifully built veranda was a visual delight, with its rustic table and chairs and a deep frill of wood, which went the whole way along the entire cabin roof.

      Amy laughed out loud. ‘I love it!’ Taking Johnny’s hand, she walked towards the cabin, her eager gaze enveloping it. ‘And you say you built all this, on your own?’

      ‘That’s right.’ Walking beside her, the can of paraffin in one fist, Luke spread the other large, capable hand before him. ‘Built it with my own two hands, a great deal of cursing and God knows how many mistakes, before it all finally seemed to fall into place.’

      Climbing the steps he led them onto the veranda. ‘It’s not what you might call grand,’ he warned, ‘but it does for me.’

      Leaving Amy and the boy to take in the view from the veranda, he quickly hurried inside the cabin, where he surreptitiously slid Amy’s portrait from the wall and hid it, back outwards, behind a large basket of kindling wood. Then he opened the many shutters to let a measure of light inside, before lighting the fire in the hearth. Soon the flames were licking and spitting and, to be safe, he arranged the fire screen across it.

      ‘There,’ he said. ‘It’ll soon be warm as toast in here.’

      ‘I can understand why you’ve kept all this to yourself.’ Amy had never encountered anything like this place. Deep in the heart of the forest, it was like something out of a fairy tale. ‘It’s so beautiful.’

      ‘I think so too.’ Although seeing Amy there in his secret place, having her so near, was another ‘beautiful’ thing. ‘What do you think of my furniture?’

      Amy glanced about, surprised at how sparse the cabin was inside. And though the furniture was bulky and slightly crude, it was sturdy and wonderfully unconventional, and it was enough for his needs. ‘It isn’t what you might call grand,’ she said with a wry little smile, ‘and I dare say you’d get next to nothing for it at market. But it’s