Chapter 44
44
It was two days before Bastille Day when Jean-Paul took Sasha, together with the pups, to show her his farm. About a kilometre from the chateau in the opposite direction of the village and down a long, gated rough track, the traditional granite stone mas nestled in a valley. Looking at the house, Sasha’s fingers itched to create a painting of it. With its faded red shutters opened flat against the walls, pale blue wisteria framing the front door and Viking asleep on the doorstep, it was picture-perfect.
She turned to Jean-Paul. ‘You leave Viking out when you’re not here?’
‘Sometimes, if I have the need. The yard gates are closed, the land around is mine and Viking, he never leave. I bring him with me most times, but today, with Mimi and Mitzi, there was no room in the car.’
Viking stood up and lazily stretched as Jean-Paul opened the car door and Mimi and Mitzi bounded out straight for him.
‘Come in,’ Jean-Paul said, leading the way. ‘I confess I do very little to the house since my parents leave.’
Sasha gazed around at the kitchen with its beams and red tiles on the floor, a large, battered table standing in the centre of the room, half a dozen chairs scattered around it. Although old-fashioned in style without built-in units, alongside the large dresser with its display of Bretagne pottery, it did have a modern stove and a dishwasher. Sasha thought it was the perfect-sized kitchen for feeding a family and entertaining friends. A picture window above the sink gave a view out over an orchard of apple and plum trees. Several chickens were scratching at the ground, while a few were enjoying dust baths in the loose soil they’d already scratched up.
‘They are not suppose to be in there,’ Jean-Paul said, laughing. ‘Their run is the other side of the fence. I give you some eggs when you leave if you like. Come see the rest.’
The sitting room alongside the kitchen had a wood burner fitted into the inglenook fireplace, two comfortable-looking settees, rugs on the tiled floor and bookcases lining two out of three walls. ‘You’ve got a proper library here,’ Sasha said.
Jean-Paul smiled. ‘My parents, they always read a lot and me the same. Some books are from my grandparents’ time.’ Mimi and Mitzi ran into the room at that moment and skidded to a halt, scattering the rugs. Jean-Paul laughed. ‘We let them run outside?’
‘Good idea,’ Sasha said.
Out in the farmyard, Viking lay stretched out in the sunshine again and warned the pups off with a short growl when they tried to ambush him into playing.
‘The sheep and most lambs are out in the fields,’ Jean-Paul said. ‘But the couple of late ones are still in this barn,’ and he took her over to the half-door of a small building.
Peering over, Sasha saw two ewes standing there contentedly chewing some hay whilst their lambs headbutted each other in play.
‘They join the flock out in the field later this week, I hope, when the weather is better,’ Jean-Paul said.
‘So sweet,’ Sasha said, quietly watching them.
‘Come on. I make some coffee and you can tell me what happening up at the chateau.’
As they turned to make their way back into the farmhouse, Sasha’s mobile rang. Jean-Paul gestured to her to answer. ‘It is perhaps important.’
Sasha recognised the number as the one Colette had given her, which she’d rung a couple of days ago to ask about the loan of the Welsh Cob, leaving a message. ‘I have been waiting for this call,’ she admitted as she pressed the button. ‘Hello?’
It was a few minutes later when she said, ‘Thank you for letting me know. If it doesn’t work out, please feel free to give me a call.’ Sasha sighed as she followed Jean-Paul back into the kitchen. ‘I thought I was in with a chance of having a horse on loan, but the owner has already found a new home for him. Probably just as well. I’ve got enough going on without adding a horse into the mix. One day the time will be right and I will have one,’ she said, smiling at him.
‘It is a pity this time it not work out but I hope you have your own horse one day in future,’ Jean-Paul said.
Five minutes later the two of them were sitting at a tiled table in a small garden at the side of the farmhouse, Viking and the two puppies under the table at their feet. Jean-Paul had placed coffee and two delicious-looking raspberry and cream tarts on the table before opening a large parasol to provide some shade from the heat of the sun.
Sasha bit into her tart and gave a little moan of delight. ‘This tastes even better than it looked.’ Jean-Paul, eating his own tart, nodded his head in agreement.
After she’d finished eating and could speak again, Sasha looked at Jean-Paul. ‘I need to thank you for talking to Freddie.’
‘I feel bad I interfere, but it would be a mistake for him to be involve with Maddie not knowing the truth,’ Jean-Paul said.
‘Don’t think of it as interfering,’ Sasha said. ‘You simply told Freddie something important and he made up his own mind, thankfully.’
Jean-Paul nodded. ‘It is better to think that.’
Sasha sipped her coffee. ‘If anybody can be accused of meddling in someone else’s business, it’s probably me, not throwing Eliza’s box away as she told me to.’
‘ Mais non . It was a good thing to not do. You make several people happy. If you are finish, we walk and I show you some of the land, yes?’ Jean-Paul stood up and held out his hand. ‘There is a little river at the bottom of my valley; you like to see? The dogs they can play in the water.’
‘Sounds fun,’ and Sasha sprang up from her chair.
Walking down the side of a flower meadow full of poppies and wildflowers, with her hand enclosed in Jean-Paul’s work-roughened one, she felt a surge of happiness flood through her body. Being with this man felt so right.
The stream, when they reached it, was an idyllic spot. Fresh clear water trickled over pebbles and small rocks and gurgled its way around larger boulders, creating several pools in the process. ‘What a beautiful place,’ Sasha said watching the dogs splashing around in the shallows. A willow-tree dipped its branches in the water and they both saw a flash of blue flying out of its protection.
‘Was that a kingfisher? I’ve never seen one before,’ Sasha said.
Jean-Paul nodded. ‘Yes. We are lucky to see it.’
Sasha gave a contented sigh and looked at Jean-Paul. ‘I understand why you’ve never wanted to leave the farm, you have everything you need here.’
‘I am proud to be the fifth generation of my family to work this land, to live in the farmhouse. I accept my destiny happily.’ Jean-Paul smiled at her. ‘My papa, he teach me well in the ways of country life. You like the French countryside?’
‘I love it. The countryside is my happy place.’
‘That is good for me to hear,’ Jean-Paul said quietly. ‘The farming life is not for everyone.’ He paused for several seconds, leaving Sasha anxiously wondering what he was going to say.
‘I meet you and my heart begin to sing. Life, it take on a different vibration. Something special happen. I start to wonder.’ He hesitated, staring down at the water gurgling over the rocks before looking up at her. ‘But it is difficult when the language is not the same to know if the other person feel the same.’ Jean-Paul gazed at Sasha, his expression full of hope, his body tense as he waited for her reply to the question he was about to ask. He caught hold of both her hands. ‘Do you?’
‘Do I what?’ Sasha asked quietly.
‘Do you have the feeling for me I have for you?’
There was a split second of silence as Sasha looked at him with a big smile on her face as she nodded. ‘Of course I do.’
With a deep sigh, Jean-Paul pulled her close and enveloped her in a tight hug before giving her a kiss that left neither of them in any doubt about how the other one felt about them.