by Becky Wicks
‘Are we leaving him in here?’ Emmie asked, looking between them.
‘For now,’ he replied, realising his eyes were fixed on the blush of Jodie’s cheeks. ‘We’ll put him inside when he’s calmer.’
‘Can we give him a reward for backing down?’ The kids both looked like they were about to climb on the fence to try and give Blaze more treats he probably wouldn’t eat.
Jodie stepped in before he could. ‘Give him space,’ she warned them. ‘Leaving Blaze alone is the greatest reward we can give him for now.’
‘Dinner!’
The call from the porch sent the kids running.
‘It’s we now, is it?’ Cole remarked, once it was just him and Jodie standing there. He brushed the snow from his hat and drew the double bolt across the gate, fighting back a smile as she pulled a face and shrugged.
This was the Jodie he’d known before. In spite of everything they’d been through in the years apart from each other, Cole felt mild relief to see some things hadn’t changed.
* * *
‘So how long are we staying here now, Mum?’ Emmie asked.
‘I’m not sure yet,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry, sweetie. We might have to take you out of school for a few days this week.’
Emmie grinned. ‘I don’t mind. I mean, about school. I do miss Saxon, but Toby says there’s a litter of puppies here due any day. We can help look after them and then we can find them new homes. And Cole says I can go for a ride on Mustang.’
Jodie watched Emmie’s face light up in the glow of the fire from the pit. ‘Did he now?’
She had expected a different reaction to the news that they had to stay a couple more days, but first Cole and now Toby seemed to be swaying her city-loving daughter in favour of country life.
‘I like Cole,’ Emmie said suddenly.
Jodie felt adrenaline spike as Ziggy laid his soft head across her boots on the gravel. She was slowly processing the fact that she’d inherited half of everything Cole and Casper had been working on in her absence. But she hadn’t been prepared for the way just looking at Cole made her feel every time he walked into a room.
His gravitational pull was just as strong as it ever had been, but he was also a grown-man-sized reminder of the heartache she’d suffered over him. She couldn’t think why Casper would make it so she had to spend all this extra time here when he must have known it would open Pandora’s box. Was he laughing about this somewhere up in heaven?
The sooner she could discuss her options with the solicitor the better.
‘I like the way he’s so good with the horses,’ Emmie continued, just as Cole’s broad silhouette appeared before the warmly lit cabin and he made his way over. ‘And I’m learning a lot more here than I would at school. I just made a fire. I sent a photo to Dad while you were in the house, look!’
Emmie thrust her phone at Jodie, and Jodie got a glimpse of the snap. Emmie and Cole together, holding up chunks of wood, both of them grinning like they’d felled the tree themselves.
‘You sent that photo somewhere?’ Cole asked in interest over Jodie’ shoulder.
‘To my dad.’
Cole’s eyes flickered towards Jodie as he took his seat at the firepit. The centre of the ring was ablaze after he’d sent Emmie to gather wood from the shed, and taught her how to start the fire carefully and slowly without sending a cloud of black smoke billowing across the estate.
Cole knew she hadn’t told Emmie about their romantic history, so of course Emmie wouldn’t think twice about sending Ethan a photo of them together. Ethan knew where she was, of course. She’d told him she was going to have a reunion with the guy she’d been trying to get over all those years ago when they’d met at college—he’d even wished her luck.
But she hadn’t told him why they were staying a few more days, exactly. She wanted the chance to discuss this inheritance and the terms of the will with him in person. It would involve him, either way, because if she had to be down in Dorset more, he would have to consent to having Emmie more often when he’d only just moved in with Saskia. She couldn’t have her missing a lot more school.
Cole placed a bag of marshmallows on the ground and handed her a wooden-handled toasting fork.
‘For old times’ sake,’ he said, and she raised an eyebrow. She had no interest in doing anything for old times’ sake with Cole, not that she could stop the barrage of memories flying at her unannounced, like hungry birds. It wasn’t particularly difficult to conjure up the sweaty, stormy nights they’d spent locked in each other’s arms, but it also wasn’t too hard to recall throwing up in the bathroom of the train station after he’d told her it was over. She’d half assumed he’d roll up and apologise, or change his mind, and she’d waited for him so long on the platform she’d let three trains go by before finally getting on one.
Still, she wasn’t about to show hostility towards the man with Emmie here.
‘Crispy on the outside, runny in the middle,’ Jodie heard him say to Emmie, quoting what Casper had always said. ‘Stuffed between two biscuits. That’s the way to do it.’
‘With a gourmet chocolate flourish,’ she mumbled without thinking.
She realised Emmie was looking between them quizzically now. ‘How long did you say you’ve known each other?’
‘A very long time,’ Cole answered as Jodie ran a hand through her hair, feeling frazzled.
‘How come I’ve never heard about you before?’
‘Maybe I’m just not that interesting.’ With a wink Cole crouched down beside Emmie and pierced a marshmallow hard straight from the packet with his fork. ‘Are you ready for the Everleigh delicacy? We call these s’mores. It’s an American recipe, if you can call it a recipe, but they taste just as good here. Hold your marshmallow above the fire, not in it...like that...yes.’
Thankfully Emmie seemed to forget her probing questions and soon lost herself in the art of making s’mores with Cole. Jodie wasn’t sure what to make of the fact that Emmie seemed to be forming a bond with him already.
Her eyes found the old scar on the back of Cole’s neck as he leaned over the fire with his stick. He’d got cut as a kid, crawling under barbed wireas he went after an escaped chicken. She hadn’t seen him do it, but she’d seen the way it’d bled through the plasters. She’d had to help him change them, more than once.
‘Maybe I can help with the other horses while you’re training Blaze,’ she heard Emmie say to Cole. ‘Mum always says I should stop being so amazing and try being useful, too.’
Cole let out a snort that turned into a laugh.
‘Emmie knows she has to work for her rides,’ Jodie explained quickly, shifting in discomfort. He was putting her on edge, being nice to her daughter when Emmie had no clue about their history. She couldn’t exactly tell her eleven-year-old she’d still been heartbroken over Cole when she’d slept with her father.
‘If we need to stay after tomorrow I can organise more nights at The Ship Inn...’
‘Fine by me.’ Cole shrugged. ‘But there’s plenty of room here, too.’
‘I’ll have to see if the locum can cover for me,’ she said. ‘I’m running a staff of five but there’s a surgery on a beagle I’m supposed to be doing with Aileen...’ Jodie stopped, realising she was blabbering.
‘Everyone there loves you, Mum. You know Aileen will be fine with someone else,’ Emmie pleaded. ‘It makes sense to stay here at the house too. We already have all our stuff with us.’
Jodie was defeated. She studied Cole surreptitiously in the firelight as she ate her first s’more. She really liked his beard the more she looked at his face. She supposed it was also nice that he was so intent on showing Emmie the exact right way to squish the hot, runny marshmallow over the chocolate.
‘Mmm-mmm.’ Emmie rolled her eyes back dramatically, chewing her own first heavenly bite. ‘Where have these been all my li
fe?’
‘You look like your mum did when she had her first s’more,’ Cole told her, before taking a bite of a lone marshmallow and chewing slowly, purposefully. He held Jodie’s gaze, like he was reminding her how his mouth could move...as if she didn’t vividly remember. She groaned internally.
They’d spent so many nights here, that summer they’d first kissed, melting into each other’s minds, and mouths. They’d had a competition one night to see how many marshmallows they could toast at once, and they’d almost set themselves on fire.
Jodie had asked to go back to his house with him that night, seeing that she’d never stepped foot beyond the gates of Thistles. She was curious by then about what his home life was like. He’d refused to let her, she remembered now. It was the same night they’d had their first argument.
‘What was it you used to say?’ Cole was gesturing at her with his fork. ‘The s’more you’re here, the s’more I love the summers.’
She realised she was frowning over all the puzzle pieces of Cole. ‘I love you a little s’more every day,’ she followed anyway.
‘My love for you is s’more than I can handle.’ Cole admired his marshmallow as he said it.
‘The s’more I eat, the s’more I want,’ Emmie joined in, chomping into a biscuit.
Jodie hoped she didn’t look as torn as she felt. She hadn’t meant them all to get so cosy like this. She’d had every intention of avoiding Cole as much as possible but with Blaze’s arrival and the cancelled meeting...and the broken-down car...and the way Cole did that thing to her heartbeat, like pushing a fast-forward button in spite of his reserve. Cole had kept a lot inside as a kid, that much she’d always known. But she’d always felt special when he’d focused on her and forgotten the mask he’d worn for other people. Maybe that’s how Emmie felt now.
What was she supposed to do?
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE SNOW WAS MELTING, the horses seemed calm, even the kennels were quiet as Cole crossed the sodden grass in the dark and let himself into the main house.
It was just after five a.m. His head was busy crafting a to-do list for the day as he grabbed a packet of ground coffee from the pantry.
Hickory Farm for the sick lamb... Check up on Rob’s heifer... Blaze’s first vital stats check—if I can even get close to Blaze today...
‘Cole?’
Jodie was standing in the kitchen doorway, drawing a thick pink dressing gown around her, scraping her hair back from her forehead in embarrassment. She clearly hadn’t expected to see him either. He noticed she was holding an old copy of The Wizard of Oz. It had always been her favourite. Something about the characters finding their courage had appealed to her. It didn’t sit well with him to this day.
He smiled, holding up the coffee. ‘I ran out, but there’s always spare coffee here.’
‘Good to know.’
He couldn’t keep his eyes off her figure in the dressing gown, her messed-up hair and sleepy eyes. He hadn’t seen her just-out-of-bed look in a long time, but it seemed to be affecting him just the same. He ached to get out of there, but he was glued to the floor now. ‘Why are you up?’
‘I couldn’t get back to sleep. It’s too quiet here. Thought I’d make some coffee, catch up on some reading.’
‘Too quiet, hmm? Maybe your mind is just noisy, like mine.’
She tightened the belt on the dressing gown, blocking his view of her cleavage. ‘Since when? You’re the calmest person I’ve ever known.’
‘Not since you showed up, Jodie.’
Jodie blinked. Colour flared visibly in her cheeks as she stared at him with her mouth slightly open, like she didn’t know what to say. Suddenly he didn’t either. He didn’t even know why he’d admitted that—it was too early, he wasn’t thinking straight yet.
‘Seeing as you’re awake, get dressed and meet me at the cabin,’ he grunted, before he could change his mind.
It took her less than twenty minutes to knock on his door. She’d dressed in grey jeans and the same boots, which were appropriately muddy now after treading through muck and snow. She was clutching her coffee flask like old times.
‘There’s a lamb with a swollen face at Hickory Farm, I need to check it out,’ he said as she stepped over the threshold. He regretted that he’d just admitted that her presence here was rattling him. He supposed he’d have to get used to it, but the sight of her in that dressing gown...
‘Nice place,’ she commented, following him through to the kitchen.
‘I like it.’
Luckily the cabin was relatively clean and tidy, apart from Ziggy’s toys scattered around the fireplace and couch. And the plates and cutlery in the sink...and the messy home ‘office’ in the corner where he’d recently dismantled a broken printer.
The sound of her boots on the floorboards made his insides twist with some long-dormant memory. Jodie, aged eighteen, dancing around her room in the main house in nothing but her boots and underwear. Just for him.
‘Remember Liam Grainger?’ he asked, lifting a jumble of jackets and computer cables on the bench and locating his own coffee flask. The pot was ready on the counter top.
‘That big old farmer who always had all the holes in his jumper, and the bright red face?’ Jodie had stopped by the kitchen door, and was studying the photos on the wall around the giant chicken-shaped clock. She seemed to pause a second by the one of him and Diyana on their elephant.
‘That’s the guy. Liam will get a kick out of seeing you at Hickory again. Emmie will be fine here with Evie while we’re gone. Pass me your flask.’
She held it out without looking at him. She was still studying the photo. ‘Is that Sri Lanka?’ she asked, eventually.
Cole poured them fresh, hot coffee. ‘Yes, that’s Sri Lanka. That was our elephant, Khalua. We rescued her from a temple in the Ancient Cities—she was about to be culled instead of retired.’
‘She’s beautiful.’
‘She has a temperament to match. I’d never seen an elephant cry before I saw Khalua in those chains. The tears started pouring from both her eyes the last time we left her in the temple. We knew we had to go back for her.’
‘We?’ Jodie was still looking at the photo. ‘You mean...you and this woman?’
‘Her name’s Diyana,’ he said, screwing the lids on both flasks, maybe a little too tightly.
‘You had an elephant together?’
He shrugged. ‘It was too soon for a baby.’
Jodie’s lips became a thin line. Cole immediately regretted his words but he had no clue why Jodie had felt the need to get married so young in the first place. Ethan was a staple in her life still, and a great father, that much he knew, but he was burning with more questions he knew he had no right to ask. All this curiosity over the photo was flicking his triggers.
He’d met Diyana during a summer break long after Jodie had walked down the aisle with Ethan. Diyana had been a welcome distraction, like sticking a plaster over a wound. She’d been interesting and new and she’d taken his mind off Jodie for a while.
‘I spent a couple of summers in Sri Lanka between studies. Casper said it was important to see other places, see more of the world and its creatures, great and small,’ he said. ‘I heard about a rescue centre for giant flying squirrels in the hill country. Diyana was one of the volunteers. She introduced me to some of the best vets, technicians, researchers... I helped where I could. I travelled around with them. I learned a lot from the animals there. And the people.’
Jodie was looking out of the window. Dawn was starting to break outside and Russell was pushing a giant green wheelbarrow loaded with tools out of the outhouse. ‘Was it serious with Diyana?’ she asked quietly.
There it was. The green-eyed monster. Cole was well acquainted with this beast. He flipped the lid on his flask, took a sip, letting the hot liquid scald his tongue for a second. �
��I came back here without her,’ he offered quietly. ‘And she isn’t here now.’
He almost told her exactly why Diyana wasn’t here now. He had no doubt she would have come if he’d asked her to. But he couldn’t give her the ring and the happy family she wanted, even after all the time they’d spent dating, because the whole time they’d been together he’d never quite managed to push Jodie out of his head, even if she’d had no difficulty forgetting him.
‘Why did you come back to Dorset if you had so much going on elsewhere in the world?’ she asked him suddenly. ‘You could have gone anywhere, Casper would have still supported your decision.’
‘This will always be my home, Jodie. I never wanted to be anywhere else. Ziggy, come, let’s go.’ He signalled to the dog, then swiped up his car keys from the counter before they could start another discussion about their pasts or their romantic lives that he really didn’t have the time or inclination to continue.
Jodie put her hand on the door before he could open it. Her gaze sharpened on his face.
‘You’re worried I’m going to sell my half of your home, aren’t you?’
His heart felt like she’d tugged on it.
He studied her a moment. Her eyes were still like oceans, luring him in, threatening to drown him. Of course he was worried about someone else coming in, but he was more concerned that one of the reasons Jodie was planning on selling was just so she could stay away from him.
‘Like I said before, this is your home too,’ he said coolly, pulling his plaid jacket from its hook.
‘I was never invested in this place as much as you were, Cole.’
‘You wanted the rescue centre as much as me,’ he said, shrugging on the jacket. It was true and she knew it.
She faltered a second. ‘Maybe...once. When we were happy here together. But my home is in Edinburgh now. Ethan is there... Emmie’s school is there.’
He turned his back to the door, facing her. She was wearing the too-clean jeans again, another reminder of her city-girl life; a life that wasn’t here. ‘So you’re happy up there in Scotland? Logistics aside, are you so happy you’d never even consider being anywhere else, even part time?’
