Page 71 of The Farmer Has a Wife

Her mother looked down into her cup. “You were always strong, always fearless. Even as a kid. You went after what you wanted and never let anyone stop you. That’s the kind of woman I always thought I would be. And watching you become that, well, it wasn’t easy, truth be told.”

Danni didn’t know what to say. She’d spent practically her whole life thinking that she wasn’t enough like her mother. That she was too brash, too reckless, too wild and willful. But jealous? All this was new. It was something she’d never heard before, and it grated against her sense of reality, her sense of how things should be.

“If you admired me so much, why didn’t you support me when I bought the farm?” Danni asked, a hard edge creeping into her voice. “All you ever did was tell me I was wasting my time and money, telling me I was going to fail.”

Her mother let out a long breath and looked up. “Because I wanted better for you.”

“Better than what?” Danni demanded. “Better than the beautiful home you have? The healthy life, the decent kids, the loving husband?”

Her mother’s mouth twitched into something almost like a smile. “Yes. Everything except the husband.”

Danni blinked. She wasn’t sure what she was hearing, wasn’tsure what was happening here.

“Farming life is hard, Danielle,” her mother said softly. “You of all people should know that. It’s hard and unpredictable and there are no breaks, no holidays, no thanks. And at the end of the day almost all small farmers have to sell up. The only thing that made all of it worth it for me was your father.”

The large chair at the head of the dining table stood empty. Danni couldn’t look at it, hadn’t been able to for two years now. Not since her dad went out to the top field and didn’t come home again. A heart attack, they’d said. Nothing anyone could do, which seemed wrong because as far as Danni knew, her dad had had the biggest heart in the world.

But it was only now, looking at her mother, that she realized that she’d never truly thought what that loss had meant to anyone other than herself.

“It’s none of my business,” her mother said. “I know that. I know I’ve got no right telling you what to do and not do with your life. But if there’s one thing that I know, it’s love. The kind that burns deep and hard and doesn’t ever go out. And I’ll tell you something, girl. You have that and you’re throwing it away, well, you’re not as like me as I’d have thought.”

Danni swallowed, her throat tight and thick.

And she actually looked at her mother. Really looked at her. Not as her mum, the complaining, shouting, nagging woman that had always pushed her to do bigger and better. But as the woman who looked a little smaller, a little sadder, than Danni had remembered her. A woman who was, perhaps, lonely.

“I might sell the farm,” Danni said finally. It seemed the best she could do, let her mother think that she’d been right all along.

But her mum simply nodded. “You can come home anytime. But I don’t think you will.”

Danni exhaled. “No. I don’t think I will either.”

“Then go,” said her mother, pushing her chair back. “Have the adventures that I didn’t have.” She cast a steely-eyed look at Danni. “But before you do, you make sure you make things right with this Eleanor.”

Danni bit her lip. “What… what if she doesn’t take me back?”

“Then she doesn’t,” shrugged her mother. “You can’t help that. You can only do your part, speak for your own feelings on the matter. But you need to know that you did the right thing. That’s the one thing about you, Danielle. You always do the right thing.”

Danni rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, young lady,” said her mother. And she turned her back, going to the big kitchen sink and starting the washing up. “You see that brother of yours, you tell him that I’ll need a pint of milk if he’s expecting any lunch from me.”

“Yes, mum,” Danni said, standing up. She paused for a second, looking at her mother’s back. “Thanks.”

“Don’t go getting all touchy-feely on me. Now get out of my kitchen and go tend to your own business.”

IT WAS EIGHT o’clock before Danni could get away from the farm. The windows of The Fox and Hounds were lit up bright in the growing darkness, and she pulled into the pub car park and jumped out of the Land Rover, knowing she was late.

“It’s about damn time,” Hector grumbled, when she finally got inside.

Tommy, who was already halfway through a pint, narrowed his eyes at her as she slid into a seat. “Alright, what’s going on? You’ve been weird all week.”

“I’ve not been weird,” Danni protested. “I’ve just been… thinking.”

“Oh, that’s dangerous,” Indi muttered, taking a sip of her drink.

“Charming,” said Danni. “And aren’t you supposed to be working? You can’t drink on the job.”

“I work in a pub,” said Indi. “Drinking is part of the job. And I’m on break, thank you very much.”

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