by Heidi Rice
Ellie filled the paper cups Annie lined up on the counter. As the alcohol fizzed on her tongue and her mum and her friends toasted each other, Ellie felt the bubble of excitement in her stomach.
A whole week off. She glanced at the clock on the wall. Ten past two. Art and Toto would be back any minute from their six-hour round trip to pick up Josh at Heathrow from his flight back from New York.
He’d been away for a fortnight, hanging out with his father, and she’d missed him horribly, despite the daily Skype calls she and Toto and Art did with him. The custody arrangements were still fairly chaotic, because Dan didn’t seem to understand the concept of school term dates, but she wasn’t going to bitch about that now. After draining the last of her cup, she pulled her apron over her head.
‘Right, we need to clear this mess up,’ she said.
‘Why don’t you leave it to us, Ellie?’ Dee touched her arm as she reached for the broom. ‘You’ve been here since six today and Josh will be home soon.’
‘I can’t leave it all to you guys,’ Ellie said. ‘The place is a mess.’
‘Course you can,’ Annie said, pouring herself another cup of champagne. ‘We’ve got it. Haven’t we, girls?’
‘Yes, we’re good,’ Tess said getting a refill from Annie. ‘As long as the champagne keeps flowing and I know I never have to tie another ribbon on a bag of Dee’s Christmas cookies.’
‘Hallelujah,’ a heavily pregnant Maddy concurred, while saluting them with her cup of fizzy apple juice.
‘Until next year, that is,’ Dee said, grinning when the other women all groaned.
‘But what about your date with Marjorie, Mum? Don’t you need to get ready?’ Ellie asked.
‘Don’t be daft,’ Dee said, looking flustered as the others all added words of encouragement.
Ellie couldn’t hold back a smile as her mum blushed prettily.
Dee and Marjorie Durden, Gratesbury Secondary’s head teacher, had been an item for nearly two months, but it still made Ellie’s heart sing to see her mum’s flushed face. The light of new possibilities had chased away so many of the shadows that had haunted her mother when Ellie had first arrived at Willow Tree that summer.
She knew Dee would always mourn Pam – the woman had been the love of Dee’s life – but seeing her mother’s joy in this new relationship delighted Ellie too. Her mother deserved this, because she had more courage and compassion than any other woman Ellie had ever known.
‘Marjorie and me are just having a quiet night in tonight,’ Dee added, her cheeks beaming.
‘Not too quiet I hope,’ Annie said, wiggling her eyebrows lasciviously as everyone laughed.
‘Go on, Ellie, you’ve been putting in silly hours all this week, we’ve got this,’ Tess added, once they’d all got a grip.
‘Yeah, take a load off while you have the chance, before Josh gets home and you and Art have to start organising the feeding of the five thousand for tomorrow,’ Maddy said, caressing her baby bump.
‘Yikes, don’t remind me.’ Ellie smiled, already anticipating how much she was going to enjoy riding herd on Art and the two kids while they prepped the Christmas meal she and Art had invited everyone to at the farmhouse – so that Dee could have time off cooking Christmas lunch for the first time in years. And how much she was going to enjoy the celebration herself, with all her favourite people in attendance.
‘OK, I’ll see you all tomorrow. Thanks for being so awesome.’
Tess gave a bow, Maddy laughed, a tear slipped down Dee’s cheek and Annie splashed the last of the champagne into her cup before saying, ‘Oh bugger off. I refuse to start blubbing before I know for sure Rob hasn’t got me the box set of Poldark I ordered from him for Christmas.’
*
Ellie was still smiling as she made her way across the frozen farmyard. The dusting of snow that had fallen that afternoon had started to freeze, making the trees and the hedgerows glisten, but the scent of more snow was definitely in the air. Wouldn’t it be fabulous it they got another layer tonight? Josh and Toto would be ecstatic, especially when they discovered the sledges Art had made for them both under the tree.
As she rounded the farmhouse, her heart soared at the sight of Art’s camper van coming down the lane. She spotted Josh waving frantically and Toto bobbing up and down next to him in the van’s front seat.
My family’s home.
The swell of emotion blindsided her as both kids piled out of the van.
‘Mom, there’s snow!’ Josh said, as he barrelled into her and wrapped his arms round her waist.
‘Welcome home, honey,’ she said, holding him close. She placed her hands on his shoulders, which were almost level with hers now. Good Lord, how could he have grown so much, in just two weeks?
‘Didn’t you have snow in New York?’ she asked.
‘Yeah, but it’s not as cool as here,’ he said.
She laughed, while trying not to feel smug at Dan’s expense.
The divorce had gone through two months ago with a minimal amount of fuss. And she knew her ex was trying. Josh had reported with enthusiasm all the stuff he’d done with his dad in Orchard Harbor in the past fortnight – a tour of the New York Mets Stadium, a Broadway show, a trip to the mall to buy Josh a ton of designer clothes and video games and about five trips to the local multi-plex to see all the Christmas movies. Even if the line-up of events had been the same shiny distractions Dan had always enjoyed doing with his son, Ellie could see how much Josh had revelled in all the attention.
Dan had always struggled with the responsibilities of being Everyday Dad – the man who did ‘stuff’ with his son, the man who could be a role model as well as a pal, who could instil discipline, who could nurture and protect and spend more than just bursts of quality time without getting bored. And that hadn’t changed.
But, as Art approached them both with his hand in Toto’s, she knew Josh no longer lacked that male presence in his life. Without ever being asked, Art had moved seamlessly into the role of Everyday Dad – leaving Dan free to be Vacation Dad, a role he excelled at, during the six weeks of the year they had agreed Josh would spend with him and his new girlfriend Ally in Orchard Harbor.
Somehow, so far, and against all the odds, their shared parenthood plan seemed to be working out.
Maybe there would be complications down the line. Josh wouldn’t always be so sunny and adaptable – she and Art had already had a few short sharp bursts of Teen Josh, and Teen Toto, to handle in the last few months. And maybe one day Dan would want more of his time. Plus, there wasn’t a lot of love lost between Dan and Art. But so far it was working. And after everything that had happened in the last six months, to her and Josh, Ellie had happily adopted a new life strategy.
Until it’s actually broke, don’t waste your time and energy freaking out about it.
‘Me and Toto are going sledging,’ Josh announced. ‘Art made us sledges.’
‘That was supposed to be a surprise, for tomorrow.’ Ellie’s gaze connected with Art’s and she spotted the crinkle of amusement round his eyes.
‘Not any more, I peeked,’ Toto announced.
Art shrugged, as the rueful smile she had come to adore spread across his face. ‘How glad am I, I spent all those nights working late in the workshop to keep it a secret for Christmas morning.’
‘Toto, you fiend,’ Ellie said.
‘Oops,’ Toto said cheekily, not chastened in the least. ‘But it’s silly not to use them. The snow might have melted by tomorrow and then all Dad’s hard work could be wasted for another whole year.’
‘Fair point, Batman,’ Ellie said, and Toto grinned at her.
‘So can we go sledging now?’ Josh said. ‘We’ve been talking about it for hours.’
‘But it’s going to be dark soon,’ Ellie said, checking the skyline – her worry gene never too far from the surface, despite her new life strategy. They had an hour of daylight left at best.
‘Please, Mom.’ ‘Please, Ellie.’ Josh and To
to begged in unison.
Gathering them both in her arms, she turned to Art. ‘What do you say? Should we reward Toto’s espionage skills?’
The look in his eyes had something dark and intense flickering to life in her abdomen.
‘Definitely,’ he said.
The kids ran off, chasing each other to the workshop as Art shouted after them. ‘Be back at least ten minutes before it gets too dark to see.’
As soon as the kids had disappeared around the side of the farmhouse, Art grabbed her round the waist and dragged her to him. He kissed her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, reminding her he’d had to leave at dawn and they’d missed their usual morning canoodle.
She plunged her fingers into his hair, and devoured his mouth right back. Forced to draw back, she sucked an unsteady breath into her lungs. Heat spread up her torso at the hunger in his eyes.
Good grief, would their passion for each other never cease?
She cradled his jaw. She certainly hoped not.
‘Why do I get the feeling you are not remotely upset that Toto found the sledges ahead of schedule?’ she asked.
He kissed her nose. ‘Because I’m not. It’s all part of my evil plan.’
Grasping her hand, he led her towards the house.
‘What evil plan?’ she said, aiming for coy but getting breathless instead.
‘Guess?’ he said, slamming open the farmhouse door and kicking off his boots.
He gave her a few seconds to lose her own boots.
‘I know,’ she said. ‘Your evil plan is to get an hour’s head start on the vegetable prep for tomorrow’s lunch.’
‘Nope. And don’t remind me of that,’ he said, then bent down and hefted her onto his shoulder in a fireman’s lift.
She shrieked as he spun her round, the lights from the Christmas tree a blur of motion as her heart slammed into her ribs and her head swam. ‘Art, put me down.’
‘Shut up.’ He gave her bottom a playful swat and began to march up the stairs, bouncing her effervescent stomach on his shoulder each step of the way. ‘Now guess again.’
‘Your evil plan is to punish me for all the vegetable prep we’re going to have to do for tomorrow’s lunch by dropping me on my head,’ she said, wriggling furiously, and laughing breathlessly at the same time, as excitement and anticipation shimmered through her body.
‘Closer,’ he said, as he dumped her on the bed in their bedroom – the bedroom that had once been hers alone during the first months of her stay at the farmhouse.
Climbing on top of her, he gripped her wrists and flung her hands above her head. Trapped under him, her heart kicked her ribs in hard heavy thuds, the fierce love she felt for him reflected in the deep chocolate brown as his gaze roamed over her face, then fixed on her lips.
‘Figured it out yet?’ he asked.
She nodded, the emotion too full to allow for coherent speech.
‘Good.’ He kissed her thoroughly, making her moan, as his lips trailed down to her collarbone and sucked on the pounding pulse in her neck.
As he implemented his evil plan, locating each one of her erogenous zones and exploiting them mercilessly, the question that had been mocking her for days now, no weeks, lurched into the forefront of her mind. The question she had been too scared to ask. Then drifted away again, as the endorphin rush drowned out everything but the taste, the feel of Art.
*
Eventually they lay naked and sated on the sheets, her hand resting on his chest. His fingers stroked her hair as he cradled the back of her head and held her close.
She propped herself up on her elbow to look down at the harsh, handsome face she had come to adore.
‘Art?’
He groaned. ‘I know, we need to get up and in the shower before they get back.’
His eyelids opened and he turned to look out the window. Snow had started to fall again in big fat flakes, illuminated by the foggy light of the wintry dusk.
He closed his eyes again and tugged her closer.
‘But there’s no rush,’ he said, snuggling her into his side. ‘We both know they’re not going to get back until it’s pitch dark.’ A lazy, satisfied smile split his face. ‘Thank God our kids never do a bloody thing we tell them.’
Our kids.
The easy statement filled her heart with hope. Bright, beautiful, determined hope. Maybe it was too soon for this question. But why not put it out there and see what happened? She could wait, if that’s what he wanted. But she was through being a coward about asking for her heart’s desire.
‘How would you feel about making this official?’ she said.
‘Hmm?’ he murmured, still snuggling, only listening with half an ear.
‘I’d like to make Toto my daughter, and you Josh’s stepdad. You know, officially.’
His eyes snapped open.
Well, that had certainly gotten his attention.
‘What?’ he said, his voice a husky croak.
‘Not straight away, obviously.’ She twirled a fingernail in his chest hair, suddenly unable to look at him. ‘We would have to talk to the kids first. Get their take,’ she said, busy qualifying, denying.
When he didn’t say anything, though, and she couldn’t lift her gaze from his chest, she wished she could grab the words back.
Why the flipping heck had she said anything? She was mad. Of course this was too soon. She’d got all hyped up on her mum’s new relationship and Josh’s return home and Maddy’s new baby and the shop’s successful Christmas sales period and the all-around romance of the season – not to mention yet another spectacular orgasm – and completely lost her grip on reality.
They’d only been together five months. Art had always had trust issues. Did she really want to be testing him again after how far they’d come already? And her divorce had only been final for seven weeks. What was she thinking, talking about marriage again so soon? What was wrong with her?
He tucked a knuckle under her chin and forced her to meet his gaze.
‘Are you serious?’ he said. ‘You want to get married?’ She couldn’t tell from his voice whether he was pleased or not pleased, because all he looked was stunned.
‘We don’t have to do it straight away, I just thought—’
He pressed a finger to her lips, to halt the outpouring of confused qualifications.
‘Yes,’ he said.
‘What did you say?’ Had she heard that right?
‘Yes, let’s get married,’ he said.
‘Really?’ she said, still not sure her ears weren’t playing some sort of cruel trick on her.
‘Yes, really, but I’ve got conditions,’ he said.
‘Conditions? What conditions?’ That didn’t sound good.
He stroked her hair back from her face, gazed at her, the smile spreading across his face making her heart leap with joy.
‘We do it soon,’ he said. ‘I don’t want a ton of fuss.’
‘But I’ll want to plan a proper wedding.’
‘No way.’
She laughed as he rolled over, and held her captive.
‘No fuss,’ he added, nibbling kisses down her neck. ‘I want to get this done before you change your mind.’
Arousal surged, as she met his hunger with a hunger of her own. And agreed to every one of his stupid conditions…
But later, much later, as they sat together on the couch next to the Christmas tree and listened to Toto and Josh argue over which Christmas Eve movie to watch – Batman v Superman or The Avengers – she began planning the details of her dream wedding in her head. Her great big glorious extremely fussy dream wedding next summer at Willow Tree Farm – when she would celebrate not just her love for Art, but her love for her new daughter, and his new son, and for all the rest of her new family.
Art would come around to the idea in time, she thought, as she watched him referee the argument by shoving Arthur Christmas into the DVD player.
Once she’d finished convincing him there was no way on eart
h she was ever going to change her mind.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Writing Summer at Willow Tree Farm involved lots of help and lots of encouragement from a variety of people. First off I need to say a special thanks to Beth McMurray at Three Trees Farm for giving me the low down on how to open and operate a farm shop (any mistakes are entirely my fault). I also want to thank my mum, Sylvia Rice, for sharing her love of the Wiltshire countryside with me, a committed city girl! Big thanks also go to my best writing mate, Abby Green, for her constant cheerleading with this book and others, my other wonderful writing mates – especially Fiona Harper, Susan Wilson and Iona Grey – and to my best friend and fellow road-trip rebel Catriona O’Kane. Thanks to all of you for helping me to get through my endless anxiety attacks while writing this book. Thanks also go to my fabulous editor Bryony Green and Anna Baggaley and the team at HQ Stories, as well as my agent Margaret Halton, for helping this story to realise its full potential. Last but by no means least, I should also say a heartfelt thanks to my wonderful husband Rob for still making me smile after twenty-plus years of marriage (not always an easy task when you’re living with an author!).
Copyright
An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2017
Copyright © Heidi Rice 2017
Heidi Rice asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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