The Girl from Honeysuckle Farm / One Dance with the Cowboy. Jessica Steele

We—er…’ She had been about to say how it had been about the last one of their antiques to go, but there was no need for anyone to know of their hard-up moments. ‘It was probably sold to a dealer who sold it on.’

      ‘And you recognise it?’

      ‘I should do—it was my Saturday morning job to polish it. I’ve been polishing it since I was about three years old.’ A gentle smile of happy remembering lifted her mouth. ‘My father’s initials are lightly carved underneath. We both got into trouble when he showed me how to carve mine in too. My mother could never erase them—no matter how much she tried.’

      ‘The table obviously holds very happy memories for you,’ Ty put in quietly.

      ‘I had the happiest of childhoods,’ she replied, and suddenly felt embarrassed at talking of things they could not possibly be interested in.

      ‘You were upset when your father sold it?’ Ty enquired, his eyes watching her.

      She looked at him in surprise, the blue top she wore reflecting the deepening blue of her eyes. How had he known it was her father who had sold the table and not her mother? ‘He was my father!’ she protested.

      ‘And as such could do no wrong?’ Ty suggested quietly.

      She looked away from him. It was true. In her eyes her father had never been able to do anything wrong. ‘Would you mind very much if I went and took a look at Ruby?’

      She flicked a quick glance back to Ty, but his expression was inscrutable. She took that to mean that he would not mind, and was on her way.

      Ruby had had the best of days, and seemed truly happy and content in her new abode. Phinn stayed with her, talking softly to her as she did every evening. And as she chatted to her Phinn started once more to come near to being content herself.

      She was still with Ruby when the mare’s ears pricked up and Phinn knew that they were about to have company.

      ‘How’s she settled in?’ Ty asked, coming into the large stable and joining them.

      ‘I think we can safely say that she loves her new home.’

      Ty nodded. Then asked, ‘How about you?’

      ‘Who could fail to love it here? My room’s a dream!’

      He looked pleased. ‘Any problems I should know about?’ he asked. ‘Don’t be afraid to say—no matter how small,’ he added.

      ‘It’s only my first day. Nothing untoward, but—’ She broke off, caught out by the memory of Ash giving her that knowing look that morning.

      ‘What?’ Ty asked.

      My heavens, was he sharp! ‘Nothing,’ she answered. But then she thought that perhaps she should mention it. ‘Well, the thing is, I think Ash seems to have got hold of the idea that—um—you and I—are—er—starting some sort of…’ Grief, she knew she was going red again.

      ‘Some sort of…?’ Ty questioned, not sparing her blushes.

      And that annoyed her. ‘Well, if you must know, I think he thinks we’re starting some sort of romantic attachment.’ There—it was out. She waited for him to look totally astounded at the idea. But to her astonishment he actually started to grin. She stared at him, her heart going all fluttery for no good reason.

      Then Ty was sobering, and to her amazement he was confessing, ‘My fault entirely, I’m afraid.’

      ‘Your fault?’

      ‘Forgive me, Phinn?’ he requested, not for a moment looking sorry about anything. ‘I could tell the way his mind was working when I told him I’d asked you to stay with us for a while.’

      Phinn stared at him. ‘But you didn’t tell him—?’ she gasped.

      ‘I thought it better not to disabuse him of the notion,’ Ty cut in.

      ‘Why on earth not?’ she bridled.

      ‘Now, don’t get cross,’ Ty admonished. ‘You know quite well the real reason why you’re here.’

      ‘To be Ash’s companion.’

      ‘Right,’ Ty agreed. ‘You’re here to keep him company—but he’s not to know about it. From where I’m viewing it, Ash has got enough to handle without having the added weight of feeling under too much of an obligation for what you did for him yesterday. He’s indebted to you—of course he is. We both are,’ Ty went on. ‘The alternative—what could have happened had you not been around and had the guts to do what you did—just doesn’t bear thinking about. But he’s under enough emotional pressure. I just thought it might take some of the pressure from him if he could more cheerfully think that, while things might be going wrong for him in his personal life, I—his big brother—was having a better time of it and had invited you here more because I was smitten than because of what we both owe you.’

      Despite herself, Phinn could see the logic of what Ty had just said. She remembered how down Ash had seemed when she had come across him on the bank today. She recalled that bleak expression on his face and had to agree. Ty’s brother did not need any extra burden just now.

      ‘As long as you don’t expect me to give you a cuddle every now and then,’ she retorted sniffily at last.

      She saw his lips twitch and turned away, and, feeling funny inside, showed an interest in Ruby.

      ‘As pleasant as one of your cuddles would surely be, I’ll try to hold down my expectations,’ Ty replied smoothly, and for a minute she did not like him again, because again he was making her feel a fool. All too plainly the sky would fall in before he would want to be anywhere near cuddling distance with her.

      ‘Are you home tomorrow?’ she turned to enquire, thinking that as it was Saturday he might well be.

      ‘Want to take me to Pixie End Wood too?’

      She gave him a hostile look, bit down on a reply of Yes, and leave you there, and settled for, ‘You intimated you’d neglected your work in London. I merely wondered if you’d be going back to catch up.’

      ‘You don’t like me, do you?’

      At this moment, no. She shrugged her shoulders. ‘I can take you or leave you,’ she replied, to let him know that she was not bothered about him one way or the other. But flicking a glance to him, she saw she had amused him. Not in the least offended, he looked more likely to laugh than to be heartbroken.

      ‘How’s the…Ruby?’ He made one of his lightning switches of conversation.

      Ah, that was different. Taking the talk away from herself and on to Ruby was far preferable. ‘She’s happy—really settled in well. She’s eaten more today than she has in a while. And this stable, the paddock—they’re a dream for her.’

      ‘Good,’ Ty commented, and then, dipping his hand into his trouser pocket, he pulled out a wrist-watch and handed it to her. ‘You’ll need one of these until your own dries out,’ he remarked.

      Having taken it from him, Phinn stared at the handsome gentleman’s watch in her hand. ‘I can’t…’ she began, trying to give it back to him.

      ‘It’s a spare.’ He refused to take it. ‘And only a loan.’

      She looked at him, feeling stumped. The phrase ‘hoist with her own petard’ came to mind. She had told him her watch would be all right again once it had dried out—but he knew that, no matter how dry it was, it would never be serviceable again.

      ‘I’ll let you have it back in due time.’ She accepted it with what dignity she could muster, and was glad when, with a kind pat to Ruby’s flank, Ty Allardyce bade her, ‘Adieu,’ and went.

      Phinn stayed with Ruby, wondering what it was about the man that disturbed her so. In truth, she had never met any man who could make her so annoyed