Page 17 of Falling in Love at Pennycress Inn

‘Just no?’ Placing Trixie back on the floor, she watched as she immediately bee-lined towards Charlie, something she never usually did, apart from with herself and her mum, the masters of all things treatwise. Trixie was normally a timid little thing, wary of strangers, particularly men in big muddy boots.

‘Just no. I have no links with the village. Why would I want to spare my precious time, which at the moment is ultimately my money, to work on a daft carnival?’ He flared his nostrils, his earlier kindness quickly being replaced with full-on grump.

Putting her hands on her hips, Nicola frowned. If he wouldn’t stick up for his own uncle’s legacy, then she would. ‘It’s not daft. It brings the community together, and that’s what is special about Meadowfield – the community. Its tradition. A tradition your uncle started.’

Shaking his head, his jaw flexed. ‘You don’t need to tell me how to honour my own uncle.’

‘Really? Because from where I’m standing, you could certainly do with a few lessons.’ She clamped her mouth shut. She shouldn’t have said that. Farmer Williams was his family, not hers, and she’d just accused Charlie of not caring about his wishes. ‘Sorry, I?—’

‘I need to go.’ Bending down, he quickly fussed over Trixie, who stood on her back legs demanding attention. Straightening his back, he grabbed his keys from the coffee table, pausing a moment as he stared at the photos.

‘Take them. You might as well.’ For all the good they’d done in changing his mind, or not, as the case was. Still, his parents, siblings – someone – might have a bit more sentimentality towards his uncle’s life and achievements than he did.

Picking them up, he shoved them in his pocket before turning on his heels, Trixie darting behind him.

‘Trixie, stay here.’ Jumping forward, having completely forgotten about the pain in her leg during the argument, Nicola winced as she picked her up, waiting until she’d heard the click of the front door behind Charlie before lowering Trixie to the rug.

Flopping onto the sofa, she let herself be consumed by the cushions, thankful for the warmth and comfort. What a night! Why had Charlie completely turned at the mere mention of the farm? Before she’d brought it up, he’d been rather lovely, helping her, cleaning her wound, even being nice to Trixie, and yet as soon as she’d uttered a word about the carnival he’d clammed right up. Was it because she’d hit a nerve? She’d said, not too bluntly that he was more interested in selling the farm and pocketing the money than honouring his uncle’s wishes.

She’d gone too far. Why had she? Why had she let her mouth run away from her brain? Why hadn’t she stopped herself? She fiddled with her bracelet, dragging the small horseshoe across the dainty silver chain.

Winding herself around Nicola’s legs, Trixie meowed, giving her best shot of acting like an undernourished and much neglected cat.

‘Oh, Trix, is it really that bad?’ Nicola glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘If it wasn’t for the fact that I know Nanny has been round feeding you treats, then I’d agree with you, but knowing you had your belly stuffed full only a few hours ago, I don’t think you’ve got even a partially empty stomach.’

Resting her paws on Nicola’s trainers, Trixie rubbed her cheek against her jeans.

‘Okay, okay. Dinner time it is then.’ Pulling herself to standing, Nicola hobbled through to the kitchen, noticing the bowl Charlie had used washed and on the draining board. She frowned. A man solely consumed with how much money he could get from his uncle’s farm wouldn’t have helped her. No, there was more to Charlie Williams than met the eye. She was certain of it.

9

‘Morning, Nic! How’s things?’ Jill pulled her gardening gloves from her hands as she walked into the kitchen, flinging tiny clumps of dirt onto the newly mopped tiles.

‘Hi, all good thanks.’ Nicola nodded towards the kettle as it reached boiling point, ignoring the urge to grab the mop once again. ‘Fancy a coffee?’

‘Yeah, why not? I’ve got a few minutes before I need to go and collect Kasey from nursery.’ Laying the gardening gloves on the table, Jill sat down. ‘Dare I ask if you had any luck with the new farmer at Little Mead?’

‘I’d wait until you’ve got a strong coffee inside you.’ Nicola poured the water into two mugs, watching the coffee granules disperse and dissolve.

‘Ah, that bad?’

‘Uh-huh. That bad.’ Topping up with a splash of milk in each mug, Nicola then carried them across to the table. Apart from a little pain in her leg still, she’d woken up feeling less battered and bruised than she’d expected after yesterday’s incident with her bike.

‘Thanks.’ Taking the mug, Jill downed at least half the liquid before placing it on the table. ‘Right, coffee devoured. Hit me with it?’

Slipping onto the bench opposite her, Nicola wrapped her hands around the hot ceramic. ‘He still says no. Charlie Williams is not entertaining the notion of helping us at all.’

‘Charlie?’ Jill nodded. ‘Did you show him the photos? Of his uncle? At the carnival.’

Remembering the slight flicker of emotion that passed across Charlie’s face when he looked at the photos, Nicola nodded. ‘I did.’

‘And still no joy?’ Jill took another sip of coffee. ‘I don’t understand. He’s new here, you would have thought he’d want to immerse himself into the community, become part of the place, just as his uncle had been.’

‘Nope.’ Nicola shook her head slowly. ‘He wants to sell. He doesn’t want anything to do with Meadowfield or the farm. He has no interest in it or us whatsoever.’

‘Seriously? But even if that’s the case, why wouldn’t he want to participate this once? In memory of his uncle?’

‘He wants to do a few things to the farm, I guess, so he can get top price for it, sell, pocket the money and leave.’ Nicola shifted in her seat. A small part of her felt awful for speaking about Charlie like this. After all, he had shown her more than a little compassion last night, but he wasn’t helping himself. He’d made it clear he wasn’t interested in the carnival, despite her pleas for him to be involved for the sake of the community. ‘It’s just easy money for him, isn’t it? He inherits the farm, sells it and goes back to his old life, wherever that might be.’

---