by Rebecca Shaw
Dan asked Mr. Jones if he’d done it right?
Mr. Jones proffered a grudging compliment. “For a young strip of a lad you didn’t do badly. I’ll give you that. Come along, Megan, get a move on.” He flung off the blanket and grasped Megan’s arm to help him rise to his feet. Dan took his other arm, and between them they got him into the house. Mr. Jones thanked him for his help.
“A pleasure. Any time. Good morning, Mr. Jones.”
Seated back in his chair, Megan’s father said, “Arrogant beggar, he is. But he does a good job, I’ll say that for him.”
“He’s well respected in Barleybridge is Dan. He’s an excellent vet. Even your archenemy, Lord Askew, approves of him.”
“Does he? Wouldn’t call that a recommendation coming from him. The fat, thieving, manipulative…Where’s the blanket for my legs?”
“I’m just putting it on, see?” She draped the blanket over his knees in the way, from long experience, she knew he liked the best.
“I need a hot drink, Megan.”
“I’ll put the kettle on, but first I need a word with Gab.”
“You’re a good girl to me. Don’t think I don’t appreciate you because I do. I’ve a fancy for…Never mind, it’ll all be too much for me.”
“What will, Da?”
“Nothing.”
“You know how I hate half sentences. Just tell me.”
He pressed his lips into a straight determined line and then relented. “That wheelchair you got and I refused to use.”
“Yes.”
He shook his head. “No, never mind.”
“Are you wanting me to get it out?”
Belligerently he replied, “No. No. Even if you do, I shan’t sit in it.”
“I see. Won’t be long.” Nevertheless, later that morning she got the wheelchair out from under the stairs and gave it a dust and left it out in the passage to the back door. When she was in the kitchen preparing lunch for Gab and her father, she heard him closing the downstairs bathroom door and knew by the noise his slippers were making that he hadn’t gone straight back into the sitting room. Putting her eye to the crack of the door, she saw him inspecting the wheelchair. She heard him tut-tutting and complaining. “Pretty pass things have come to. Huh!” Megan realized he was coming into the kitchen, so she went back to washing the lettuce for the sandwiches.
Her da stood propped against the door frame catching his breath. “I’ll eat in here with Gab. Make a change.”
“Right.”
Gab came in at the stroke of twelve, washed his hands at the sink, and took his place at the table. A huge hulk of a man, the twin by twenty minutes of Gideon and the oldest of the Bridges’s brood, he had his mother’s light blue eyes and the sandy hair and the long, thin, hook nose of his father.
“Thank you, Meggie, my love.”
Her da grunted disapproval of “Meggie” but had the sense to say nothing, for without this man to help on the farm, they’d be in deep trouble. Good farmhands were rare nowadays, so he made an effort to begin a conversation, but Gab would have none of it. He ate every sandwich on his plate and then began eyeing Mr. Jones’s plate so ravenously that he felt compelled to offer him one of his. “Here we are, Gabriel, Megan’s made too many for me.”
Gab devoured that and then began on the fruitcake. When he’d eaten two big slices of that, he moved on to the bowl of fresh fruit. He then poured himself two successive half pints of cider from the big jug Megan had put out, drinking them without a pause, then he stood up and said, “Thanks, Meggie, my love.”
As he left the kitchen, he turned back to look at Megan, and Mr. Jones caught the look Gab gave her, an alarming mixture of love overlaid with deeply felt lust, which shocked him. Megan, busy peeling a peach, didn’t notice, but when she realized Gab hadn’t gone, she looked up to see if he needed a word about something and blushed to the roots of her hair when she read what was in his face. He’d undressed her, in his mind, but not like Rhodri did with love and tenderness. This was something quite different. He’d stripped her. Mentally she re-dressed herself, prayed her father hadn’t noticed, and concentrated hard on removing the stone from her peach. Gab abruptly turned toward the door, opened it, and was gone. Megan’s da said, “I’m…going…for a lie…down.” Placing both hands on the table, he heaved himself to his feet.
Megan said, “I’ll get your inhaler; you sound as though you need it.”
Mr. Jones nodded. Damn the man for looking at Megan like that. How dare he? As she came toward him carrying his inhaler, he looked at her with new eyes, and saw for the first time in his life just how attractive she really was—the red hair, those large tender eyes, the proud carriage of her head, the slender, expressive hands. She was attractive, so very attractive, no wonder Gab had looked at her like that. He could see why now. His daughter! The subject of such…lewdness. He’d have to watch him. Better still, he’d advertise for a man, and get rid of him that way.
But it was easier said than done. The current downturn in farming had meant that young men were seeking work in the towns and leaving farming far behind them. So they were stuck with Gab, until times changed. Megan’s da had seen the other Bridges boys when they’d all been going in to Weymouth together one Saturday night and had called to pick up Gab. They’d filled the kitchen and, to a man, they’d plainly showed their appreciation of Megan. There wasn’t one of them who could be trusted one iota more than Gab, so he couldn’t even swap one of them for him.
ROSE called for tea one afternoon as Dan had promised. “Are you sure, Megan, that Jonathan won’t be too much for your father?” she’d inquired on the phone one day that week.
“Absolutely certain. Please come, Rose, we do want you to. Winter’s coming on and we feel the need for company. That sounds as if I’m being rude to you, but it’s true we do. I’ve got a present for the baby, and I’d love to give it to him myself. So, yes, we’ll see you Tuesday.”
Rose instinctively knew how desperate Megan must be feeling, with an invalid father and a lover she longed to be with. Not much of a recipe for happiness. No, sir!
When she got there, she found Mr. Jones ensconced in his chair, looking grumpy and outfaced by her coming. But she was determined he wasn’t going to find her lacking in respect and affection.
Rose shook his hand and keeping hold of it, impulsively bent forward to kiss his cheek. Despite himself, he enjoyed her vital femininity and her open friendliness. “Hi, Mr. Jones! What a pleasure. I’ve heard all about you from Danny.”
“Have you indeed? Not much to the good, I expect.”
“Indeed, it was. He said you’d been out to watch him TB testing and that you’d approved of him.”
“I did, but he’s an arrogant beggar. I can see it won’t bother you though; you’re tough enough and shrewd enough to be able to cope with him, aren’t you? So where’s this baby of yours?”
“I’ve left him in the kitchen; I didn’t know if—”
“Bring him in. I want to see him. We never get babies visiting us. Go on, girl, bring him in.”
So Rose went back to the kitchen, picked up Jonathan’s traveling seat, and carried him in. He was looking particularly like Danny today, and she loved him for it. She held the seat so that Mr. Jones could see him without having to get up. As he looked at him, Jonathan opened his eyes and stared straight at Mr. Jones. Two little hands waved haphazardly about, and he yawned and then pulled a face as though he were concentrating very hard on something that was worrying him.
“Why, there’s no mistaking who he belongs to. My word, I’ve never seen a little chap looking so much like his father. Just look at that expression, see? Just like Dan, that is. Isn’t he a grand baby? Megan! Where’s the present?”
“Coming!” Megan came in from the kitchen carrying a teapot in one hand and a parcel in the other. “Here it is! It’s more fun for adults at the moment, but he’ll grow into it.”
With Jonathan on her knee, Rose opened the parcel and out came a fluffy w
hite toy sheep. “Oh, look, my darling, look what Megan’s bought you!”
“Turn her over and look at her tum,” Megan said.
There was a long slit down the length of the sheep’s stomach, and when Rose put her fingers inside, she could feel something in there. When she pulled at it, out came a small fluffy black lamb. Then another one all white this time and then another white with a black face. She gave a delighted cry of surprise each time one appeared. “Oh, Megan! Where did you find this?”
“In the posh toy shop in Barleybridge. I couldn’t resist. I almost bought one for myself.”
Rose pushed the three lambs back in again and pulled them out one after the other. “I could do this all afternoon! It’s absolutely splendid, and thank you very much indeed. Very appropriate for a vet’s son.” Clutching the sheep and Jonathan, Rose stood up and kissed Megan and then kissed Mr. Jones again. “Thank you very much. Isn’t it lovely? I’m so pleased with it. He’ll love it when he’s bigger, and can do it by himself.”
Unexpectedly Mr. Jones said, “If I’m careful, I could hold the baby, couldn’t I?”
Without hesitation Rose placed Jonathan in his arms. Megan went to the kitchen to bring in the rest of the tea things. Rose sat back in her chair and watched in silence. Mr. Jones, in a world of his own, didn’t speak a word. He simply sat looking at the baby in his arms as though he’d never seen a baby before. His crippled hands clumsily stroked Jonathan’s cheeks, cuddled his little feet, which were fidgeting about, and tried to get him to hold tight to a finger. Then he cleared his throat and said huskily without looking up, “You are lucky, my dear. He’s perfect. Here, take him, before I drop him.”
Rose got up, took the baby from him, and looking down at him, she said, “Have you no grandchildren?”
“No. Nor likely to have. That fool of a son of mine hasn’t the slightest interest in having a family at all. It’s all glitz and glitter with him, and he gets plenty of that in London. As for Megan, she can’t marry when she has me to look after.”
Before Rose could answer, Megan came back with a loaded tea tray. The business of pouring tea, handing out plates, cutting cake and consuming it took time, and Rose still hadn’t found the right moment to put in a word for Megan and Rhodri to Mr. Jones by the time Megan was clearing their tea things.
But she did notice that Mr. Jones was beginning to tire.
“I think I’d better be making tracks. Any minute now, this son of ours is going to be shrieking for his food. I wonder…Mr. Jones…could you find the time to come to our house for a cup of tea one afternoon? Just for an hour, if Megan can spare a few hours?”
Megan stopped what she was doing and waited, fully expecting that her da would say no. But to her surprise, he said the opposite. “If you can be bothered with an old man, yes, I’d like to. Thank you.”
“Good! I’ll ring next week and we’ll plan a day. Lunch perhaps, too? Will that be all right with you, Megan?”
Before Megan answered Rose, they heard Gab calling. When he didn’t get an immediate answer, he came on into the sitting room in his stockinged feet. He loomed in the doorway. “Sorry, didn’t realize you had company. I just need some help with ordering some more feed, please, Meggie, my love. Don’t know your supplier and we’re nearing the end of what we’ve got. Must do it today. Afternoon, Mrs. Brown. Nice to see you.”
Rose smiled at him. “Hi! Gab. It’s nice to meet you. Dan said you were helping out.”
Megan picked up the tray. “Yes, you’re right. I meant to order it last week and never got around to it.” She headed for the kitchen carrying the tray, and as she went to pass Gab, still standing in the doorway, he took the tray from her and gave her a long, hot, lustful look, which wasn’t lost on Rose. Without moving her head, she turned her eyes to see if Mr. Jones had noticed and he had; he looked livid.
“I’ll be off, then.” Rose gathered her things together, picked up Jonathan, and said, “I’ll give you a ring, promise. I’m so glad you said you could come. Be seeing you, Mr. Jones.” Rose went into the kitchen to thank Megan.
Gab was seated at the table with Megan beside him studying a file. “I’ve come to say my good-byes. I’ll ring next week when I know what Dan’s doing, and we’ll make a date for lunch. Perhaps Saturday. Is it all right, my asking? I didn’t know how your father would feel.”
Megan looked up from studying the file. “It’s fine; no one’s more surprised than me that he wants to go out. Thank you very much.” She gave Rose a smile of thanks, and it was still on her face as she pointed something out to Gab, who wasn’t looking but was occupied with admiring Megan’s hair. Again Rose caught sight of the desire in Gab’s eyes and wondered if Megan recognized it for what it was.
“’Bye, Rose, thank you for coming. ’Bye, Jonathan.”
“’Bye, Megan. Thank you for asking me. The tea was lovely. ’Bye, Gab.” She left the kitchen, went down the short passage and out into the farmyard to get into her car. A frisson of apprehension shot through Rose, which she tried hard to shake off, but couldn’t. She’d seen desire in men’s eyes herself many times, but never with the hint of threat which she recognized in Gab’s look. Megan was a stunner. Who would have guessed there was such sweet beauty hidden away in that remote farmhouse? No wonder Rhodri had fallen for her. No wonder at all. But Gab!
From the depths of his chair, after Rose had gone, Mr. Jones watched Megan dusting crumbs from the table she’d used for serving the tea. “Isn’t that Rose a lovely girl? So kind to want to be bothered with a crippled old man. It will make a change. Yes, a very pleasant change. Fresh she is, New World fresh. That Dan’s a lucky man. Don’t know how he’s managed to get her. He wasn’t exactly at the front of the line when good looks were given out.”
“Not many people are.”
Megan’s da didn’t tell her how he’d realized what a beauty she was, didn’t want to rock the boat. He was damned if she’d up and leave. Damned to a procession of “helpers” or else a nursing home, and he wasn’t having that. No, she’d just have to wait.
DAN shifted Jonathan around so he could see his face. “Darling, I certainly won’t tell Rhodri. He’s far too wound up about the situation. If he finds out, he’ll probably murder Gab. What a mess! What with Megan’s biological clock ticking away and Rhodri fit to die for her and Gab obviously fancying her like crazy, things could be heating up.”
“Mr. Jones knows it too. He was livid.”
Dan looked up at her and asked if Mr. Jones was willing to come for lunch, or had he to be coerced?
“Willing. Very willing. I was amazed.”
“So am I.”
“He’s an old sweetie really, just in so much pain and so resentful of not being able to do what he wants, which is farming, he can’t help but let it spill out into every corner. He treats Megan like a servant, but what alternative has either of them?”
“Not much. I bet you’re the first person to say he’s such a sweetie.”
“You should have seen him with your son. Watch out, he’s being sick!” By the time they’d cleaned him up and Dan had changed his trousers and Rose had given the baby her favorite recipe for wind, and then they’d got him to sleep, the evening was almost over and they gave no further thought to Old Man Jones, except for Rose to say that she was going to solve their problems.
“Rose! You’re not to interfere! Promise!”
Eyes wide with innocence, she agreed she wouldn’t interfere, just help things along a little. Sitting up in bed during the night, feeding Jonathan while his father slept the sleep of the righteous, Rose thought how to bring it about. She could make a beginning by inviting Rhodri for lunch at the same time as Mr. Jones and Megan. No, that would be too obvious. Or she could ask other people she knew and then the larger group would make it not quite as obvious. No, that would be too much for Mr. Jones. All those people. No. What she’d do was encourage him to go out more and then he would have less time to brood and more time to see how the other half of the world li
ved. He needed cheering up. The whole balance of his life wanted rejigging. Brightening. Freshening up. Revitalizing. And she was the person to see to it. Yes. Coming here for lunch would be a start. But as she put Jonathan back into his cradle, sated with milk and almost asleep, Rose remembered the glittering of Gab’s eyes and the lust in them, and hoped Rhodri’s and Gab’s paths would not cross.
Chapter
• 10 •
It was, however, Rhodri’s afternoon off the following day, and he and Megan were taking the chance to shop in Barleybridge. He couldn’t find her when he first arrived at the farm, but he did find Gab in the nearest field, mending a fence.
He was lifting a huge hammer with the greatest of ease and raining blows on a new fence post. Rhodri watched the rhythmic strokes of his powerful arms with admiration. Strength like his was amazing. “Gab! Hi!” He guessed Gab would answer without the slightest shortness of breath.
The post as secure as he could make it, Gab rested the mighty hammer on the ground and turned to see who’d called his name.
“It’s you. If it’s Meggie you’re wanting, she’s inside getting ready.” The light eyes appraised Rhodri. “Business brisk?”
“Yes, thanks. And you?”
“Busy, you know, always something to do on a farm. Nice autumn though. Easy to get jobs done when the weather’s good.” Gab eyed him again with a speculative look. “Lucky for you Old Man Jones is having a good day. He cramps your style, doesn’t he?”
“What do you mean?”
“Having that old git ordering you and her about. She never has a minute.”
“I know. He doesn’t order me about.”
Gab leaned on the post he’d just put in, his chin resting on his hands. “He does. He tells you marriage isn’t on the agenda.”
“Who told you that?”
“Obvious, isn’t it? All he needs is a…man with a firm hand to tell him where to get off.”
Rhodri felt at an immediate disadvantage. “Does he indeed? Well, thanks for the advice.”
