Chapter 13
The orange glow to the west cast deep shadows across the yard. Hopefully, the farmhands had already rounded up Daisy and Prue. If she had to remain on her feet much longer, her soles might burst.
Once in the cowshed, she dropped the pails on the straw-littered floor. She ran a hand over Daisy’s round stomach and grumbled at her bloated udder. “I am sorry, girl; I have been so busy harvesting vegetables and preparing food for the workers that I have not had time to get to you.”
She grabbed a pail and the three-legged stool and plopped down on the hard wood. At least she would not need to be on her feet for the next half hour or so. Perhaps she would linger. A reprieve from Mama’s constant questions about when she would return to York was welcome.
She tugged on two of Daisy's teats. Warm, creamy liquid squirted into the metal pail. Once she got up a steady rhythm, she rested her head against Daisy’s warm hide and allowed her mind to wander.
It was good to be useful again, to contribute, to talk about anything other than the latest fashions, or who was at home and who was not, or the latest musical soiree held by Mrs Sanderson to display her daughter’s skills.
Her lips twitched. She did not miss the caterwauling Sandersons or their weak tea.
“I see you have not lost your touch.”
Blythe yelped at the unexpected voice and jerked too hard on Daisy’s teat.
Daisy mooed and side-stepped in retaliation.
Gabriel stood in the doorway of the cowshed with his black frock coat hanging from a finger over his shoulder. His black waistcoat hugged his broad chest, and his shirt sleeves had been rolled above his elbows, revealing the sinews of his forearms covered with a fine dusting of dark hair.
Her fingers twitched with the urge to trace the lines of those muscles. Instead, she said, “What are you doing here? You frightened me and Daisy half to death.”
“I wished to see how you fared.”
“After a long day in the fields, surely it would be preferable to return home.”
“My home is quiet and boring. Why would I return there when I can sit here and watch you pull on dear Daisy’s and Prue’s udders? Besides, we said we would return to being friends, and this is what we used to do when we were friends.”
Her cheeks heated at the memory of what else they used to do when they were friends. She buried her face in Daisy's hide and resumed a steady rhythm. For a few moments, nothing but the gentle bubble of flowing liquid and the odd cluck of a roaming hen filled the cowshed.
She broke the silence. “We agreed that we should not resume our friendship.”
“You suggested it.” Straw rustled behind her, and his voice drew near. “I disagree. Why can we not be friends?”
“You know why not!” Why did the man have to be so kind and forgiving? He does not even know the half of it.
“I thought I had clarified that we should put the past behind us.”
She could not do this to him. She had hurt him before, and being her friend would hurt him again.
She did not deserve his friendship, no matter how much she longed for the closeness they once shared, and for the ability to tell another person anything without judgement.
To know that they would listen no matter what she had to say, and keep every secret.
Your secrets will only cause him pain. She had to end this now.
Blythe sat up. “We must acknowledge that it will never be what it once was.” She looked over her shoulder.
Gabriel sat on a pile of straw. “Perhaps you could be more specific.”
“I mean you sneaking in here every night to talk while I milk the cows and popping around to each other’s houses to eat dinner like we are members of the family. I mean us sneaking off with a jug of cider and a quarter of cheese to sit under the great oak to watch the sunset.”
“Did you not enjoy doing those things?”
“Of course I did, or I would not have partaken in them. But we were young and reckless, and we are not anymore.” She stood and faced him. “I have my children to consider, and you have your patients. What would they think if they found out you had been with me in the cowshed alone?”
“What can they say? We are but two old friends whiling away the hours in idle chatter.”
She braced her hands on her hips. “We are more than old friends, Gabriel, and the women of the village will have my hide if they think I have set my cap at you again.”
His dark brow rose.
Was he deliberately obtuse? “I have seen the way they all look at you. Nothing changes in Midthorpe.”
His lips twisted, and an impudent gleam sparkled in his eyes. “And how do they look at me?”
“Like they would allow you to examine them at the click of a finger.”
His lips rolled inwards.
She could not help it. A loud chuckle burst forth, and Gabriel’s followed, his shoulders shaking with laughter.
Oh, the release was divine after a full day of stewing in her own foolish thoughts. Holding her aching sides, she inhaled repeatedly and met Gabriel’s mirth-filled gaze. He still made her heart skip a beat every time he looked her way. And she had been nothing but cruel to him.
She sobered. “Please forgive me for my blunt words yesterday.”
“I appreciate your blunt words.”
“It appears to be a trait I have gained from my mother.” Her insides withered. “It is sensible for us to remain acquaintances rather than old friends.”
“I wish to be more than acquaintances.”
She blew out a long breath. “Gabriel, we cannot.”
“Why not?”
“Because of what I did to you, and because of what I did to your mother. Because everyone knows and everyone will think I am some grasping woman trying to sink my claws into you again only to abandon you once more.”
Daisy swished her tail, hitting Blythe in the face, so she flicked it away.
“Are you trying to sink your claws into me again only to abandon me once more?”
Her jaw dropped. “Of course not!”
“Then I do not foresee any difficulty.”
For heaven’s sake, it was like beating her head against a brick wall!
Gabriel stood, sending the hen at his feet fluttering away. “We should have married before I left for Edinburgh.”
“You could not support a wife while you studied. It was better to wait until you completed your education and I mine.”
“If we had married, that insipid insurance salesman would not have stolen you.” He stepped towards her. “You would have been mine, as we had always planned.”
Her back hit Daisy’s side. “Life does not always go as planned.”
“Why did you marry him, Blythe?” He continued towards her, but there was no escape.
“I thought we were to leave the past behind us. Why must you continue to ask?”
“Because I know you.”
“You knew me once. There is a difference.”
“No, Blythe. You have not changed. You are still the same hardworking, determined woman I used to know. One who wishes to take care of others and still tries to appease her demanding mother.”
She tried what she hoped was a venomous gaze. How dare he suggest she was still under the thumb of her mother!
“Tell me it is not true. Since you returned, you have taken on every role to prove yourself to her. You have tended to your father and Jane, and you nursed a sick and dying boy. We made plans, and I do not believe that you gave up on them simply for money.”
“But that is the truth.” She raised her chin.
“You loved me; I know you did. You are not fickle in your affections.”
“Please leave this be.” She croaked through her tightening throat. “Did you not say it was better to move on—”
He silenced her with his mouth on hers.
She should resist. She should push him away. But her body yearned for the opposite. She could not stop her hands from roaming up the firm planes of his back to hold him close.
Their tongues tangled and caressed. Their breaths sharp and short between kisses.
Her heart pounded. She had missed this man so much. For fifteen years, she had tried to fill a gaping hole with love for her children and her duty to her husband, but part of her had remained hollow.
You will only hurt him again. Her eyes flew open, and she clamoured for the strength to push him away. “No!” She slid out of the tiny space between him and Daisy. “I should not. I am not…”
“Not what?” Gabriel stepped forward, and she stepped back.
“You deserve better, Gabriel.”
“I want you, Blythe. No one else will do.”
“Do not say that!” Tell him the truth! The truth would only hurt him more. She squeezed her eyes shut while holding out her hand to keep him at a distance. If he kissed her again, she would not have the strength to resist.
“Please leave, Gabriel. We are not young and impetuous anymore. I have children and work that requires my attention.”
She picked up the milk pails and headed to the dairy.
Gabriel forced his feet to remain fixed on the straw-ridden floor. Daisy turned her head towards him, her big brown eyes blinking while she chewed a mouthful of hay.
“You are correct. I am a fool.” He kicked at the loose straw in the corner of the shed before he stamped across the yard.
He should have gone straight home. But no, he had come here, like he had when he was younger, to see Blythe even though he had seen her a few hours ago when she had delivered the fourses.
He slunk out of the gateway to Silverdale and headed towards Midthorpe. A silver sickle, the last of the harvest moon, glimmered amongst a blanket of twinkling lights above.
On his forearms, his hair prickled, and a shudder ran across the slick skin of his back. The earthy musk of dying foliage hung in the air.
It was time to accept the truth. Blythe had been his first love, and he had been unable to forget her. More than money had been behind her decision to jilt him. He had said to leave the past behind, but this gnawed at his insides, and he could not let it go.
That she had lived with Simmonds for fifteen years, that she had borne that man’s children and mourned her husband, was of no consequence. All that mattered was that he wanted her to be with him for the rest of his life.