live like royalty. Much better than we do, in fact. Unfortunately, Elizabeth happened to come down to the farm the day we were shifting one of our Tamworth sows, a
particularly bad-tempered one, from her nursery pen into a paddock. She’d taken it into her head to make a run for it, and my dad was sort of...” He searched for the right word.
“Sort of grappling with her in the yard. So, there she was, screaming the place down, and all her eleven piglets running mad. Blood everywhere where she’d bitten Dad’s hand open.
Looked like a battle scene. Anyway, Elizabeth took a photo, and it got in the paper. You know. Suffolk farmer brutalises pig. That sort of thing. Took a hell of a lot of sorting
out.”
Lexy suddenly found herself trying not to laugh. She saw that Tyman was trying not to, as well.
“When we finally managed to persuade the farms inspector that the old man wasn’t a direct descendant of Caligula, Elizabeth had to come down and apologise to us. Damned nearly killed
her.”
His hand flew to his mouth. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to say that. But it meant that we never really saw eye to eye after that.” He smoothed out the loose threads around a tear in
the knee of his jeans.
“Then one day,” he continued, “a few weeks ago now, I ran into her on the path. There was a barn owl perched in an oak tree nearby – she pointed it out to me. Beautiful
thing. We got talking, and, well, after that I saw her most days. Dad had put a flock of sheep out on the hill to graze, and I came up past her house every morning to check on them.” She
watched a muscle twitching in his cheek. “So we put our differences behind us.”
It was as Lexy was contemplating this that the second stranger suddenly appeared.
She jumped in alarm, but Tyman actually leapt to his feet, striking an almost defensive pose. Explained why he’d kept glancing up the path.
The newcomer stared at the two of them from the gateway. He was about Lexy’s age, a large, dark, brooding presence, with narrow, watchful eyes. At his side was a large, dark, brooding
dog.
Lexy grabbed Kinky’s collar, just as the chihuahua broke into a storm of snarling barks.
The stranger regarded him with contempt.
“What’s going on?”
“Ward – this is Lexy,” said Tyman, speaking loudly and quickly over Kinky’s continuing racket. “She’s a friend of the new owners of Four Winds.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Four Winds Cottage is in new hands.”
Lexy caught the disbelief that flashed momentarily across the other man’s face.
“Apparently, Elizabeth left the place to a distant relative in her will,” Tyman gabbled. “Bit of a surprise, eh? Lexy’s been staying here. Lexy, this is my brother,
Ward.”
So this was big brother. Lexy could see the family resemblance now, in the arched brow and straight nose. Just seemed that Tyman had inherited all the charm.
“Hi.” She stood up, still holding the enraged chihuahua. Ward barely glanced at her, his attention fixed on his brother like a stoat with a rabbit. Lexy felt a rattle of
resentment.
“We need to talk. Now.”
“Yeah – I know.” Tyman stepped back, upending the mug and sending tea splashing around their feet.
He threw a helpless look at Lexy. “God. Sorry. Do you want me to... ?”
“Just leave it, Tyman. Django, heel.” Ward turned abruptly and began striding back up the path in the direction he had come from, the dog keeping pace beside him as if its nose was
velcroed to his trousers.
“Something I said?” Lexy enquired.
“No – it’s just that we’ve got... stuff to do.” Tyman grimaced at his brother’s disappearing back. “Sorry about him. He’s under a lot of pressure.
Er...incidentally, it’s all private land round here, except the cottage and its access road. That is, Pilgrim’s Farm owns the peninsula, and, you know, with the sheep and
everything...”
“Don’t worry, I’ll stick to the cottage,” Lexy lied. “Guess
Robyn Carr
Stephen Becker
G. C. Scott
Shannon Drake
Nell Dixon
Nancy Hopper
Toni Morrison
February Grace
Liz Pryor
Denise I. McLean