Page 14 of Falling in Love at Pennycress Inn

Her fingers automatically flew to the dainty silver bracelet around her wrist, the one which her mum had promised would bring her luck. It was still there, it hadn’t broken. She looked down at the tiny silver horseshoe. Huh, what was she supposed to believe? That if she hadn’t been wearing it she’d have broken her leg instead of just hurting herself? Nicola shook her head. She couldn’t blame the bracelet for not saving her, she’d done this to herself. All of it. She should never have trusted Nathan with her heart in the first place.

The road lit up as another car drove in her direction, but she kept her head down, willing them to pass her, willing to be invisible. She kept her eyes tightly closed as the low rumble of the car stopped beside her, kept them closed as footsteps approached. She didn’t want to see anyone. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this, tears, sweat, mud stained.

She felt his hand on her forearm before she heard the familiar low growl of his voice.

‘Are you hurt?’

Shaking her head, she fought the urge to push him away and run. To run and hide and wait for the day to pass. Not that she had the energy to do any more than hobble at the moment.

‘Are you sure?’

She could still feel his hand on her arm, the warmth from his skin against hers. He wasn’t going to just leave, to mind his own business and drive on by, was he? Taking a long shuddering breath, Nicola looked up and met those piercing blue eyes which less than half an hour ago had flashed with annoyance at her and yet were now filled with something else. Kindness, maybe? No, more likely pity.

Shaking his arm off, she nodded. ‘I’m fine.’

Leaning back on his haunches, he ran his hand through his hair, rainwater dribbling down his forehead. ‘I’ll give you a lift.’

‘I don’t need a lift.’ She bit down on her bottom lip to stop herself from wincing as she hobbled towards the bike. Leaning down, she picked it up and, thinking better of trying to ride it again, began pushing it down the hill as she limped beside it. It was a bit wobbly. The front wheel must have been bent in the fall. It was likely unrideable. She caught a sob in her throat as the realisation hit her that she now had no way of getting around. No car, no bike. Nothing.

Jogging to catch up with her, Farmer Grumpy stood in front of her and placed his hands next to hers on the handlebars, slowing the bike to a stop. ‘You can’t walk home like that. And you certainly can’t be thinking about getting back on this thing.’

Keeping her eyes fixed on the road in front of them, she spoke quietly. ‘Thisthingis the only means of transport I have.’

‘You’ve got your car, haven’t you? You came in a car yesterday.’ Still, he kept his hands on the bike, kept it rooted to the road.

‘Well, I don’t anymore.’ She wiped the back of her hand across her cheeks as she felt the warmth of tears mix with the cool rain. She looked away. She couldn’t believe she was crying in front of him, of all people.

‘I don’t even know your name.’

Glancing at him, she frowned. Why did he need to know her name? What was he going to do with that information? Report her for dangerous cycling? He’d probably throw in the heinous crime of trespassing on his land, too. At least she’d get a lift home in a police car, or to the station perhaps. She’d get a free cup of tea made by someone other than herself if she was taken into custody. ‘It’s Nicola. Nicola Fields.’

‘I’m Charlie. Charlie Williams.’

She nodded. She should have guessed he was a Charlie. With his light brown hair and surfer cut, he looked like a Charlie.

‘Can I give you a lift home?’ He nodded towards his truck.

‘No.’ But it was tempting. The interior light was on inside, possibly the heating too, and although it was still a warm evening, clammy even, after being out in the rain, mixed with the shock of being thrown from her bike, the idea of sitting in front of the truck’s heating sounded amazing.

‘Go on, you won’t have to suffer my company long. Meadowfield is less than a five-minute drive away.’

Nodding resignedly, she took her hands from the bike and watched him pick it up with ease and carry it towards the flat bed of the truck before lowering it in. She could cope with him and his attitude for five minutes if it saved her from hobbling all the way home. Besides, he didn’t seem quite as grumpy as he had earlier.

With the bike secure, he looked back towards Nicola and opened the passenger door. ‘Come on then. Hop in.’

She hobbled slowly towards the open door, careful not to put too much weight on her hurt leg but equally trying desperately to not show how much it really hurt.

Slipping into the seat, she leaned her head back against the headrest. ‘Thanks.’

After closing the door and jogging round to the driver’s side, Charlie sat beside her and started the ignition.

8

The trip into Meadowfield was quick, just as he’d promised, and quiet. He didn’t utter a word and instead of trying to fill the silence, which was something she would normally do, she didn’t. She just sat there, closed her eyes and willed herself not to burst into tears again.

‘Whereabouts are you?’ Charlie glanced at her as the street lights of Meadowfield welcomed them. ‘Where do you live?’

‘The Twistle. Just to the right.’ She pointed in the general direction of her road.

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