Page 64 of The Holiday Cottage

She should have gone straight back to the cottage when she left the house, but she’d thought they might follow her, so she’d decided to go for a quick walk across the fields instead and think things through. Which had sounded fine in theory, but now she was very cold and very wet.

Before she’d fallen in the ditch, she’d thought that maybe she’d head to the village that Dorothy had described and tuck herself away in a cozy café for a few hours while she digested all that had happened. But she couldn’t do that now. She was soaked and filthy.

She was going to have to go back to the cottage. But to do that she had to figure out where she was.

Squinting through the steadily falling snow, she could just about make out what looked like a narrow road winding its way through trees at the end of the next field. Presumably that was going in the right direction. If she could cross that field without killing herself, she could walk along the road back to Winterbury.

She trudged across the field, feeling colder by the minute, and followed the snow-covered hedge until she found a gate. Her feet were so cold she could no longer feel her toes, but she managed to clamber over the gate without further mishap. The road was narrow and covered in snow. The absence of car tracks suggested that no one had driven this way for a while.

Did she go left or right? Right, surely.

She started to trudge back along the road and she’d been walking for about five minutes when she heard the sound of a vehicle approaching. She tucked herself in by the hedge and waited for it to pass, but instead it pulled up next to her.

The driver lowered the window. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking.” She kept her head dipped, because she didn’t want whoever it was to see that she’d been crying. She wasn’t in the mood to be sociable.

“Are you sure?” His voice was deep. “Because it’s snowing, and you’re not exactly dressed for the weather. You’re soaking wet. Did you fall? Are you lost?”

She heard the concern in his tone and knew she had to reassure him if she wanted him to drive on, which she did. She was not in the mood for company, even concerned company. “I had a slight accident. But I’m fine.”

“Where are you heading?”

Oh, go away!She didn’t have the energy for this conversation.

She turned to look at him, ready to put him firmly in his place, and her gaze locked with his. She felt a jolt of shock. He was younger than she’d expected, just a few years older than her, she guessed, and his eyes were the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. Also the most tired. His jaw was dark with stubble, and he looked as if he’d been up all night.

The stab of attraction was unexpected. She didn’t have that kind of reaction to men. No fireworks. No insta-lust. She was far too controlled and careful for that. And her response to him irritated her. Or maybe what irritated her was meeting someone like him at possibly the lowest moment of her life.

She could just imagine how Janie would react if she were here. She’d be flicking her hair, giving him her most dazzling smile and begging him to rescue her. But it was hard to be dazzling when you’d just climbed out of a frozen ditch.

And Imogen was used to rescuing herself. She’d made it her mission in life to be totally independent. She couldn’t play the part of the damsel in distress even when she was, quite literally, distressed. She didn’t want to lean on those shoulders of his, however broad they were. One of the few advantages of her somewhat barren childhood was that she’d learned to pull herself out of ditches.

And anyway, if his slightly battered, haven’t-been-to-bed-all-night look was anything to go by, he was already living his best life.

Her ingrained sense of independence asserted itself and she almost didn’t tell him where she was going, but the sensible side of her decided it might be helpful to know that she was at least heading in the right direction. “Holly Cottage. It’s—”

“I know Holly Cottage.” He frowned. “You’re going the wrong way. How did you get here?”

“Across the fields.”

“In this weather?”

“I fancied a stroll.” It sounded ridiculous even to her. “I like snow. I find it...bracing.”

“Bracing?” Disbelief mingled with humor. “Mmm. Why don’t you hop in. I can drop you at Holly Cottage.”

She saw then that his eyes weren’t just tired, they were also kind. Instinctively, she backed away from that kindness. She didn’t want kindness. She was holding it together by a thread, and kindness might just snap it.

“No thanks, I’m fine.” Now that she’d been given the option, she realized she didn’t want to go back to the cottage. There was a strong chance that Dorothy and Sara would be waiting.

Her stomach churned at the thought of it. She couldn’t face them. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Tears clogged her throat and she looked away again. “Thanks for stopping. I appreciate it.”

She was about to walk on and hope he took the hint when she heard a whimper from the back of the car and the man turned and stretched out a hand to something in the back seat.

“I know. Life sucks, but you’re going to be fine.”

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