‘My van’s broken down…I’m not sure what’s wrong…’
‘Umm…going far, are you?’
‘Marston Old Hall.’
‘Kyle Bennett’s place?’ His interest sharpened. ‘He’s away at the moment.’
‘Yes, I know,’ Heather agreed coolly. ‘If you could direct me to the nearest garage?’
‘There’s only one, and it will be closed at this time of night. Known Kyle long, have you?’ he asked curiously.
‘Most of my life,’ Heather told him, her tawny eyes letting him know that she resented his questioning.
Immediately his expression changed. ‘Oh, you’ll be the daughter of the couple who fostered him, then.’
Heather looked at him suspiciously. What had Kyle told him about her and her parents, and his life with them?
‘Mrs Evans, who works for Kyle, mentioned you to my mother. I own Heybridge Farm. We’re his nearest neighbours. My mother has her own small business—dairy produce mostly—and, since Mrs Evans is away at the moment, Ma went round this morning to the house with a box of groceries. She tries to mother Kyle a bit, but he’s not the type really, is he? When you first mentioned him I thought…’
He coloured and Heather was surprised by her own frisson of awareness. Surely she didn’t look as though she might be one of Kyle’s women friends? To judge from the photographs she had occasionally seen in the Press, he normally went for glamour types, not untidy, inelegant creatures such as herself.
Her hand went up defensively to push her hair off her face and, as she did, she heard her companion saying boyishly, ‘Can’t say that I’m not pleased…that you’re not…’
‘One of Kyle’s women?’ Heather supplied for him.
‘We don’t get very many pretty, unattached women round here. Too remote…most of the ones who don’t marry virtually straight after school go off to London or Bath to work and we don’t see much of them after that. I can give you a tow to Kyle’s place, if you like.’
When Heather agreed, he fixed a tow-rope to her van in a very businesslike manner. His hands were broad, with stubby, capable fingers, reddened by the wind and snow. He caught her watching him and smiled at her, and Heather recognised in his smile his appreciation of her as a woman. She smiled back, flattered by his obvious interest in her.
‘There, that should do it.’ He gave the knot a testing tug and then walked back to the van with her, checking that she knew how to steer correctly.
His hand touched hers momentarily. The back was covered in fine blond hairs, and she had a momentary memory of Kyle’s hands, lean and hard, with long fingers, quick, clever hands, hands that echoed the nature of the man. Hands that it would be dangerous to trust too readily.
‘Are you OK?’
Forcing a smile, she nodded.
* * *
It didn’t take long for David Hartley, as he had introduced himself, to tow her to Kyle’s house, but the fact that the snow was thickening to something approach
ing a blizzard, combined with her realisation that they were the only vehicles using the road, showed her how dangerous her situation had been.
She was sorely tempted to ask him into the house for a cup of coffee, but she was very conscious of the fact that it wasn’t her home. He solved her dilemma for her by saying cheerfully that he couldn’t stop because his mother would be expecting him in for his evening meal.
‘I’ll tell her that you’ve arrived, and no doubt she’ll be down to see you in the morning. If you need anything, give us a ring, we’re in the phone book.’
He drove off with a cheery wave, having assured himself that she was able to let herself in.
The house was in darkness, but lovely and warm. Meg and the cats soon made themselves at home in the small space off the kitchen, which was obviously used as a store for coats and wellingtons.
Ignoring the rest of the rooms, Heather went upstairs to find the guest suite.
The door had been left open for her, and a fire was laid ready in the grate. She smiled a little wryly at the luxury of an open fire in a bedroom that already had central heating, but appreciated the thoughtfulness of the gesture, nevertheless.
Making her way back to the kitchen, Heather discovered that the fridge was bulging with food. Noting the wrapped cheese and the bowl of eggs, she guessed that the food had been left by David’s mother.
An omelette would do her for tonight. Already her stomach was full of nervous butterflies in anticipation of her father’s operation. Tonight she would say a special prayer for his safety and his recovery. And, her conscience prodded her, perhaps she ought to say one for Kyle, too, whose generosity had made the operation possible. There had been no mistaking the relief in her father’s voice when he’d talked about the business and how pleased he was that Kyle was taking it over. His only concern had been for her, and her reaction to Kyle’s job offer.