A Place Called Home. Eleanor Jones

glanced back at them, her lovely eyes alight with passion.

      “Run free, little fox,” she cried.

      Andy held out his hand to her and when she took it, Ellie felt something wither deep inside.

      “Right,” Ellie said curtly. “That was really something, but unfortunately I have to get home pretty soon. Thanks so much for inviting me, though.”

      Dropping Andy’s hand, Paula gave her a quick hug. “You were the one who rescued him.”

      “And I was the one whose fiancé knocked him down in the first place,” Ellie said.

      Paula shrugged. “As I already said, accidents happen. At least you did the right thing.”

      Ellie glanced at Andy, holding his gaze for a moment.

      “We all do things we regret,” he said quietly.

      “Do we?” she asked. “So what are your regrets?”

      He stepped forward, still holding her eyes in his. “I—” he began.

      “Come on, then,” urged Paula, heading for Andy’s truck. “I thought you were in a rush, Ellie.”

      “I am,” Ellie responded, turning to follow her, vaguely disappointed that she hadn’t gotten to hear Andy out. Then again, did she really want to know his regrets?

       CHAPTER FOUR

      ELLIE STARED CRITICALLY at her painting, comparing it to her experience of seeing the cub being set free. Had she caught the fox’s expression, fear and ferocity firmly linked?

      She felt Andy’s arm around her again, connecting them in the emotional moment when the wild creature finally ran free. He’d followed her when she’d said her goodbyes, leaning in through her car window to ask for her number. “For old times’ sake,” he’d said with a smile.

      “Our old times are long gone, Andy,” she’d told him, clamping down a rush of emotion as all the painful memories kicked in again. Then she’d turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared into life, defusing the situation. “See you,” she’d called, forcing a lighthearted tone and pulling away. She’d seen him in her mirror, shading his eyes to watch her drive off, then she rounded a corner and he was out of sight.

      There was no doubt in her mind that what she’d told Andy was true. Their old times were long gone, and he was well in the past. So why, she asked herself, did she feel this unexpected longing for everything they used to have? Nostalgia, she supposed. Nothing more.

      Ellie turned away from the painting, trying to shake her confusion. Today she was facing up to another part of her past by going to see her dad. That was was what she needed to focus on now, rekindling the father-daughter relationship that tragedy had torn apart.

      Yet as she drove out of the city a few hours later, Ellie found her mind wandering back to Andy. Busy roads and concrete gave way to the gentle greens of wide-open countryside, and she couldn’t stop the flood of memories. She and Andy had been together almost all of their teenage years, an inseparable couple, loving the same things, loving each other. Of course she had regret for what they’d lost. Perhaps she should have kept in touch with him, for old times’ sake. But she couldn’t let go of what he’d done to her, and he’d probably done the same to others since. No matter how well he came across, Andy Montgomery was shallow and selfish. What was in the past should stay in the past.

      Hardening her heart, she turned her thoughts to her dad and the stud. Excitement at seeing home and all the horses and animals there washed over her. No matter how unsociable and unwelcoming her dad proved to be, she wouldn’t let him get to her. It was time to build bridges, and nothing was going to stop her.

      Another hour passed by, and familiar landmarks dotted the landscape—lakes sparkling in the midday sun, looming hills and clear, endless skies. When the road narrowed to a single, fenceless track and she had to stop for an amber-eyed, wild-looking Fell sheep, Ellie knew that she was home.

      She drove through the quaint stone village of Little Dale, past Low Fell Veterinary Clinic and the busy market, then up the steep fell side again, dropping down to follow the road that meandered around the lake. Butterflies fluttered madly in her chest. What if her dad didn’t want to see her? What if he turned her away? Three years ago, when she’d visited at Christmas, the atmosphere had been so uncomfortable that she hadn’t stayed for very long, and she’d only been back twice since. Well, things were different now, she told herself. She was different. If her dad was unwelcoming, then she’d just ignore it. This was still her home, after all, and her dad had no other family to share it with.

      Still, as Ellie turned down the lane that led to Hope Farm, she began to doubt her own confidence. The old sign had been repainted, but not replaced. Her mother had chosen that sign, and she was glad her father had seen fit to keep it. The rest of the place looked as if it had been tidied up, too, she noted with surprise as she pulled into the yard. She had expected it to be just as neglected as it had been the last time she came home.

      Parking her car next to her dad’s cream horsebox, she sat for a moment, suddenly overcome by memories. Her first pony, Midge, a brown-and-white Shetland, had been kept in the stable across from her. She couldn’t even count the times he’d dumped her unceremoniously on the ground. “You’re fine, Ellie,” her mum had always told her, insisting that she get straight back on. Eventually, Midge had been retired and was replaced by a pretty gray Welsh mare called Starlight, but Ellie had always missed her old friend and visited him daily in the meadow he shared with her dad’s retired hunter, Jock. They were both long gone now, though. As a teenager, Ellie had liked to think that they were with her mum in Heaven. Did she still believe that? she asked herself. Tears welled behind her eyelids, heavy and hot. She brushed them aside. The last thing she wanted was for her dad to find her sitting in the car crying. She had come home to try and bring some joy back into both their lives...some closure. Where was he, anyway?

      Ellie climbed out of the car, taking her bag from the backseat, and headed for the house. A mud-splattered truck was parked in the middle of the yard. Her dad’s, she presumed, so he must be home.

      She stood outside the kitchen door. Should she knock, or just walk in? Deciding on the latter, she pushed open the door and peered inside. Her father was asleep in his favorite chair, slumped forward slightly, a magazine slowly slipping off his knee. He looked so small and old, she realized with a jolt, so vulnerable.

      “Dad,” she called quietly, unsure of whether or not to disturb him.

      He stirred with a slight snorting sound, opening his eyes as the magazine fell to the ground. Ellie smiled to herself as she read the title. Horse and Hound. Of course it was.

      “Ellie?” he gasped, pulling himself awkwardly upright and staring at her as if he could hardly believe his eyes.

      “One and the same,” she said. “It’s good to see you, Dad.”

      “Better put the kettle on, then, lass,” he suggested. Whatever he might say later, she knew he was pleased to have her home.

      “I thought it was time I checked up on you,” she told him as she made herself busy brewing a pot of tea. It was like going back in time a hundred years in her father’s house. Perhaps she’d buy him an electric kettle before she left. Maybe even a toaster.

      “Biscuits are in the barrel,” he said as she handed him a steaming mug.

      She picked it up from its prominent position on the counter and sat down at the table.

      “Same one, I see.”

      “Not much changes around here,” he grunted. “Except you, of course.”

      Ellie shrugged. “Circumstances changed us both, Dad, but I think it’s time to finally move on.”

      He dunked a biscuit in his tea, considering her remark before looking up with a half smile. “So