Christmas Wishes, Mistletoe Kisses. Fiona Harper

time in their conversation he broke eye contact. ‘I thought you might like a little more time to get settled.’

      Louise felt her features harden. ‘Why are you being so nice to me?’

      Ben looked for all the world as if he hadn’t a clue what she was talking about. Boy, he was good. She’d almost fallen for that straight-talking, man of the earth and sky nonsense. He knew who she was, and he wanted something from her. Maybe not money, but something. People always did.

      Eventually he scratched the side of his nose with a finger. ‘I suppose I felt I needed to make up for being a little…awkward…the first time we met. I was angry with someone else and I took it out on you. It’s not something I’m proud of.’

      A man who apologised! Now she knew the act was too good to be true.

      Still, she was prepared to play along for the moment. He’d show his cards eventually. ‘Well, if you’re not going to be businesslike about this, I may just have to look in the Yellow Pages and find a gardener who is.’

      He didn’t seem that worried about losing her business; he just went back to fussing with the floppy plant. After a few seconds he looked back at her. ‘Suit yourself.’

      Once again, Louise felt as if she’d been dismissed. How dared he? This was her garden, her greenhouse. Those were her plants he was messing around with. ‘At least give me your card.’ That was a pathetic attempt at gaining control, getting him to give up something, but it was all she could think of.

      He patted his pockets. ‘I don’t think I have one… ah!’ He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and rummaged around inside. The card he pulled out was creased and the edges were soft. She took it from him and backed away.

      Oliver Landscapes. Very grand for a one-man band outfit.

      ‘Feel free to let me know if you don’t want me to come any more, but if I don’t hear any differently, I’ll just assume I should just pop by again next Sunday.’ This time he didn’t turn away and continue working; he just looked at her. Not with barely concealed curiosity, or envy, or even out-of-proportion adoration. Those kinds of responses she was used to. No, this was something different. He looked at her as if she were transparent.

      She didn’t know what to do.

      ‘Just come,’ she said and fled, leaving her mug of lukewarm tea in the shade of a wilting ficus.

      Louise couldn’t help grinning as she climbed out of the car, even though the weather was disgusting and she was about to get on a tiny ferry and cross an angry-looking river. Just as well she could see their destination—the village of Lower Hadwell—only a few minutes away on the opposite shore.

      The rear door opened and Jack climbed out, tugging at the collar of his new school uniform and looking a little uncomfortable. He was tall for his age and he had his father’s good looks. Half the class at his previous school—the female half—had cried for a week when he’d told them he was moving away.

      Not that Jack cared. He had no idea that his golden blond shaggy hair was anything but a nuisance to comb in the mornings. He might have Toby’s physical characteristics, but he lacked any of his father’s swagger. And long may it stay that way. Louise knew from first-hand experience just how devastating a weapon all that beauty mixed with a little too much confidence could be.

      ‘All ready to go?’

      Jack nodded and clutched his book bag. Louise wanted to take his hand and hug him to her. He was being so brave. Starting a new school was difficult for any kid, but Jack was going to face an extra set of challenges. She’d had a meeting with the headmistress to discuss it and they’d both decided that, quietly, the word would go round that Jack was to be treated like every other child in the school. He wouldn’t get any favours, but he shouldn’t be subjected to endless questions about his dad or expected to buy the whole class shed-loads of sweets, just because his parents were rich.

      She laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Jack was a normal boy in that he wouldn’t allow public displays of ‘soppiness’.

      At this time in the morning there were regular ferries across the river and they walked to the edge of the high stone jetty and waited for the little wooden boat, painted white with a blue trim, to sputter up to a seaweedy flight of steps.

      The ferryman paid them absolutely no attention other than to take coins off them and Louise breathed a sigh of relief. Lower Hadwell was a small community and news of her arrival in the area had to have spread. She just hoped they were all like this guy. Completely uninterested. And, with that blissful thought in her mind, she sat on the hard wooden bench that circled the stern of the boat and turned her face into the wind.