Lonely Girl

by Cox, Josephine

  Right now, though, he needed to concentrate on the reason she had brought him here. When he dared to imagine she would give herself to him, his heart leaped in his chest. Molly had always been his woman and he needed her now more than ever.

  Nevertheless, this adventure was making him highly nervous, even though they were nearing the far end of the great barn. ‘Molly, I don’t like being in here. What if somebody finds us?’

  ‘They won’t. Once the hay is stacked and safe, hardly anybody ever comes in here, except young Harry when he brings the hay bags from the stables to fill up.’ She paused to kiss Tom full on the mouth. ‘Besides, even if someone did come in, they would never see us back here. It’s so cosy and warm you’ll never want to leave.’ She fell into a pile of hay from a broken bale and pulled him down beside her.

  ‘Molly Tanner, I must be crazy getting mixed up with you again. You’re a bad devil; always was, always will be.’ Softly chuckling, he wrapped his arms about her. ‘Nobody else but you could have persuaded me in here at this time of night and, like a fool, I let you bully me. Why is it you’ve always been able to wrap me round your little finger?’ he groaned.

  ‘Ah, that’s because you love me … more than you could ever love any other woman. Isn’t that the truth? And you will never stop loving me … will you?’

  He realised that her every word was true. ‘You must be a witch,’ he whispered hoarsely. ‘So many times over the years I’ve tried to build a relationship with other women, but it has never worked out because when I look at them, it’s you I want. It’s like you’ve woven some kind of a spell over me.’

  Her answer was to laugh in his face. ‘You’ll never have me,’ she said quietly. ‘No man will ever have all of me … not even my husband.’

  For a fleeting moment, he was afraid. Afraid of his own feelings. Afraid that she might hurt him in so many ways. And yet he wanted her like he had never wanted anything in his entire life.

  ‘You’re a crazy woman,’ he whispered, ‘and I must be crazy too, because you’re right. I will always love you, Molly. I know I shouldn’t. I know you’re bad for me, and yet I can’t stop wanting you. All these years since you left me for John Tanner, I’ve thought about you every day. I’ve tried so hard to forget you. I’ve had many other women after you, but they were fleeting relationships. None of them could ever hold a candle to you.’

  ‘Really?’ She was deeply flattered. ‘Hmm, I never realised you still loved me that much.’

  ‘If I had any sense I would get you out of my life for good and all, and never think of you ever again,’ he mumbled, ‘because, much as I love you, I know how cruel you can be, but it seems I can’t help myself.’

  Now that he felt safe from prying eyes, he began to relax. ‘Come here, my beauty.’ Playfully wrapping his arms about her, he drew her close to him and, to his great delight, she made no protest this time.

  ‘We’ll be safe enough here,’ Molly again assured him. ‘We can misbehave and enjoy ourselves for as long as we want, and no one will ever know.’ She stroked her fingers down his face, her soft voice calming his fears. ‘Trust me, we’ll be warm and cosy here. So … do you want to have your wicked way with me … or would you rather I show you the way out now?’

  ‘Molly, stop teasing me.’ The widening smile on his face showed his expectations. ‘It had better be worth the effort,’ he laughed.

  ‘Oh, it will be.’ They snuggled into the hay.

  ‘You were right!’ Giggling like a child, Tom gathered her to him. ‘It’s warm as toast in here.’

  ‘Come on then, let’s not waste precious time!’ Having helped him to take off his jacket, she threw it aside. Then, sliding her fingers under the buckle of his trouser belt, she teasingly undid it.

  A moment or so later, she hurriedly tore off her outer clothes and was driving him to distraction with her wicked teasing.

  Greedily drawing her into his arms again, Tom was happier than he had been at any time since their last such encounter.

  Molly, too, was enjoying herself. This was fun, no strings attached – no jealous husband, no unwanted brat to see to. It took her back to a time before she had ever met John Tanner.

  ‘They should have been home by now.’ With her father gone for so long, Rosie felt the need to defy his instructions and look out the window, from where she hoped to see his familiar figure walking towards the house. So far, though, there was no sign of either of her parents.

  As always, the faithful black Labrador remained by her side, his great squashy paws planted firmly on the windowsill and his bright, watchful eyes carefully scanning the night.

  With one arm wrapped around Barney’s thick neck, and the other arm bent across the sill, Rosie focused on the only direct path to the farmhouse.

  ‘Daddy said he wouldn’t be long, so why isn’t he here?’ With no one else to confide in, she directed her reasoning to the dog. ‘He must have found Mother by now … unless she doesn’t want to be found.’ She felt a surge of rebellion. ‘I’ve a good mind to go out and look for them, but Daddy would be cross if I did. You would look after me, though, wouldn’t you, Barney?’

  Fondly draping her two arms about his broad neck, she ruffled his thick, shiny coat. ‘I don’t want to disobey Daddy by leaving the house, but he’s been gone such a long time, and I’m really worried. What if something’s happened to them, Barney?’

  Tears were not far away as Rosie became increasingly convinced that this must be so. ‘I know Mother can be horrible, but Daddy does love her. That’s why I have to try and love her, too, because that would make him so happy.’

  Sensing her distress, the old dog pushed his bullish head into her lap, as though to pacify her.

  ‘Oh, Barney …’ Wrapping her arms about him, Rosie felt ashamed that she found it so hard to love her own mother. ‘I don’t mean to dislike her,’ she confided, ‘but she doesn’t love me, and I don’t know what to do.’

  When she wiped away a solitary tear, Barney shifted closer to her and, licking the back of her hand, he let her know that he loved her, even if her mother didn’t.

  For the next half-hour, the two of them kept their vigil at the window.

  Suddenly Rosie leaped up with excitement. ‘Look there, Barney!’ Pulling the excited dog closer to the window, she pointed to the path some distance away. ‘Just then … did you see?’ She pointed to the shadowy figure who, just for a split second, had passed beneath the flickering lamp attached to the corner of the tractor store. ‘I think it was Daddy, but I’m not really sure.’

  She began jumping up and down with relief, causing the dog to do the same, though when he began barking she ordered him to be quiet. ‘Stop that! Daddy said I was not to look out the window, and I promised I wouldn’t. Don’t let him see us, Barney.’ She gave the dog a hefty shove aside. ‘Get away, Barney.’ Grabbing his collar, she forced him back. ‘Quickly, get back from the window. He’ll be here in a minute.’

  Unaware that Rosie and the dog had caught sight of him, John Tanner continued on his way along the narrowing pathway.

  Disturbed by a soft rushing sound, he paused in his stride. What the devil was that? Raising his head, he looked across the hedge and over the darkened fields, but all was quiet.

  He waited a moment in silence before moving on.

  He had not gone far when he heard the sound again, closer this time. Concerned to get back to Rosie as soon as possible, he again quickened his pace.

  Smiling, he wondered whether, despite the season, the sounds he had heard were of young lovers in the long grass.

  With warmth and great affection, he recalled how over the years, he and Molly had made love in these very fields. They were good memories, which would remain in his heart for ever.

  As he pushed along the darkened path, his thoughts refocused on his beloved daughter. He hoped Rosie had done as she was told and stayed inside with the doors locked. He quickly swept past the farrier’s shed and along by the outer row of stables, but a momen
t later the peculiar sounds brought him to a halt yet again. He stood perfectly still, concentrating on the noises. They seemed to be coming from the direction of the far yard. These were not quite the same as the previous noises; they were lower … like a weird, smothered kind of grunting; much like an injured animal caught in a trap. Poachers! His anger rose immediately at the idea. I’ll bet those damned poachers have been setting traps again, he thought. If there was one thing he hated with a passion it was the barbaric traps that caused animals to die in excrutiating pain.

  He remained still, concentrating on the strange sounds, low and broken. After a minute he wondered if the sounds were in fact nothing more than wild creatures searching in the undergrowth for food. Or maybe prowling for a mate.

  He listened intently again until he thought he had finally pinpointed where the sounds were coming from. Treading carefully, he made his way towards the far yard.

  He had taken just a few steps when the muffled sounds faded into the night, leaving an eerie silence.

  He was not certain what to do. Should he pursue the possibility of catching the poachers in the act of grabbing what was his, or should he make his way home to his daughter and hope Molly was there with her? Or, being just a stone’s throw away from the yard, should he take a few minutes to investigate these other noises?

  The matter was instantly decided. If I don’t check it out, and in the morning I find some poor creature having met a terrible end when I might have saved it, I would never forgive myself, he thought.

  With all his senses on alert, he continued forward, listening for every slight movement in the hedgerows.

  As he wound his way through the maze of farm buildings, he was alerted by a volley of what sounded like laughter, and not too far away. There it was again, clearer this time … and closer. Then the sound died away, and all was silent again.

  John waited for a moment, and then he heard it again: broken noises, like muffled laughter. With anger rising with his suspicions, he stayed very still, listening intently.

  There was no doubt in his mind that this was the same gang of thieves and vagabonds who had stolen from him before. A few weeks back, he’d chased away some young ruffians he’d found in his yard, larking about near the horses. A week or so before that, he’d been robbed of a number of good leather saddles, stolen one night from a locked barn, but if they were hoping to raid his barns tonight and snatch more valuable tack, they might find they’d bitten off more than they could chew.

  Cursing quietly, he turned and went at a run back along the pathway towards the big yard, where he cautioned himself to be careful. It has to be them, he thought. They got away with it once, and now they mean to try their hand again.

  Going softly into the yard, he kept close to the buildings, quietly checking as he went, determined to catch the thieves red-handed. This time, he was ready for them. Pausing to listen and look, he could neither see nor hear anything untoward, although his every instinct told him they must be there.

  Next, he cut a way through to the smaller stable yard, where he quickly checked on every stable and every horse, but he found nothing to concern him. He pushed on, as silently as possible, checking one building after another, determined to catch the perpetrators of the recent theft.

  Had he known that Rosie was planning to leave the house to look for him, he would instantly have abandoned his search and returned to her.

  ‘I’m almost sure that was Daddy I saw just now,’ Rosie confided in the patient dog, ‘but what if it wasn’t him? What if it was the bad men who took all the saddles during the summer?’ Her father had had to spend his much-needed savings on some second-hand replacements.

  Her voice broke into a sob. ‘I don’t want to go out there, Barney, because Daddy said not to, and it’s dark … I don’t like the dark.’ She would never admit that particular fear to her father, but she could tell Barney, being safe in the knowledge that he would not betray her trust. ‘Oh, Barney, where is he? I’m sure something bad must have happened.’

  Having kept her tears back for so long, she wrapped her arms around her beloved friend and unashamedly cried on his shoulder.

  Soon gathering herself, her courage strengthened by the presence of the large dog, she was up and running to the bedroom door. ‘Come on, Barney! Let’s go and find him!’

  As though sensing the enormity of what she was about to do, Barney stubbornly sat on his haunches: he was going nowhere and neither was she. When Rosie ran back to pull him up he sat firm, with a look in his eye that warned her he would not be moved.

  ‘All right then, I’ll go without you.’

  Hoping he would change his mind once she had her coat on, Rosie ran down to the hallway where she collected her long mac from the peg, and quickly slipped it on, but Barney had moved only as far as the top of the stairs, where he sat still with a look of contempt on his weathered old face.

  ‘I’m going, Barney.’ Rosie was determined. ‘You can stay here if you want, but I have to go … I mean it, Barney. I’m going outside to look for him, whether you come with me or not.’ Reluctant to leave him here, she collected his lead and stood by the door, teasingly dangling it in the air. When it seemed he was as determined to stay as she was to go, Rosie pretended to leave. But the minute she dropped the lead, Barney ran downstairs and sat upright before her, one paw scraping the lead towards him, while he looked up at her with a sorry face.

  Rosie was greatly relieved. ‘Oh, thank you, Barney.’ She wrapped her arms about his warm silky back and hugged him to her. ‘I knew you wouldn’t let me go all on my own.’

  She quickly attached the lead to the leather collar about his fat neck, then gave him another swift hug while she whispered in his ear, ‘Thank you for coming with me. I pretend to be brave, but I would have been frightened all on my own. Just remember, Barney, when we get outside we must be very careful because we don’t really know who’s hiding out there.’

  A moment or so later, they were both suitably dressed for the outdoors.

  ‘Come on, Barney, we need a torch!’ Rosie made a search for the long torch, which she recalled was kept somewhere here.

  ‘I’m not sure where it is exactly,’ she admitted to her dog, who was sniffing in every corner, ‘but I know Daddy keeps a spare one, and it’s in here somewhere.’

  Eventually she found it tucked away in the shoe cupboard by the door. She was pleased to find a short, sturdy walking stick in the umbrella stand, too. It had a fat, knobby handle and was light to carry.

  ‘Here, Barney, you can look after that.’ She gave the stick to her accomplice for safekeeping.

  Wagging his tail as though he had been given charge of something very special, he grasped it firmly between his teeth, making it look like his face was suspended in a weird kind of smile.

  ‘Don’t lose it, Barney,’ Rosie urged. ‘It might come in handy if we meet the bad men,’ though the idea of that happening made her shiver.

  With torch in hand, and ready for anything, the two of them left the house. Rosie locked the front door behind her, trying it twice to make sure it was locked. Satisfied, she then slipped the key into her coat pocket.

  Nervous of the dark, and ashamed of defying her father’s instructions, Rosie set out along the path and into the night, her loyal friend Barney ever close by her side, the short, stout walking stick clutched tight in his mouth and his dark, silky ears pricked to every little sound.

  ‘Remember, Barney, don’t you dare start barking at the slightest thing. If there are bad men we don’t want them to know we’re here. We just need to find Daddy as quickly as we can.’

  Nervously, Rosie continued forward, focusing the torchlight directly onto the path before them, which she hoped would be discreet enough not to draw the attention of any intruder who might be in the vicinity.

  Close by, John continued to follow both the diminishing sounds and his own sharp instinct. He was being extra cautious, knowing that if he was spotted before he could learn the lie of the land
he could be in deep trouble.

  Earlier, it was muffled laughter that led him to the hay barn, but now the laughter had ceased. However, he had to check if anyone was still in there. The door was unlocked and the light was on so he feared they might be lying in wait to jump him. He crept forward, being extra careful as he silently tiptoed between the bales. As he reached the middle of the barn he could hear low murmurings. The thieves were clearly towards the far end. He readied himself for the confrontation. He had no way of knowing how many of them might be lurking back there. Obviously there were at least two, but there might be more, and the possibility of locking horns with a brutish gang of thieves made him question his position for a second time.

  However many of them he would have to face, it was not in his character to cut and run. If he had a choice, he would rather not have a fight on his hands, but if it was a fight they wanted, then it was a fight they would get.

  In truth, all he wanted was to send them packing; to let them know that he and his property were not such an easy target as they might previously have thought.

  This time he was just a few steps away from confronting them, he had the element of surprise, and he had a sturdy spade, which he’d picked up by the barn door, in his fist. His anger made him strong, and right now he was ready for them.

  Bracing himself, he crept forward until he was so near to their hiding place he hardly dared breathe.

  Taking a deep, calming breath, he realised the very real danger to himself. And what of Rosie, alone in the house except for Barney?

  John saw now that he might be putting himself into a situation that could end badly, yet he had no choice but to confront the intruders.

  When, distracted by his thoughts, he suddenly missed his footing, he stood still listening intently for a moment, to be sure they had not heard him.