3
Heath
There were a lot of visitors to Silver Wish Farm over the years, but none quite like the one Heath was watching from the side of his woodwork workshop.
He figured the blonde for mid-thirties, definitely city, and probably lost. Her bright-pink heels and two extra-large suitcases were the cause for most of her lack of balance on the gravel, the grassy verge, then the mud.
A sailor’s vocabulary coming out of full matted-pink lips in a posh accent made the corners of his mouth curl, and he could take no more, no matter how entertaining the show.
‘Hello.’ Heath raised one hand slightly as he approached the obviously frazzled woman. ‘Do you need some help?’
Twisting one foot, she managed to pull her high-heel free from a clump of mud close to the pond by the Gatehouse. ‘Oh, I’m… Hello.’ She stood tall, composing herself, and offered a smile that told Heath it was the last thing she felt like doing.
Heath gestured across to the driveway. ‘If you’re looking for the entrance to the garden centre, it’s that way. We’ve got some trolleys over there as well, if you want to use one for your cases while you shop.’
She looked as confused as him for a moment. ‘Shopping? No, I’m not shopping.’
He noticed her peruse his muscular biceps and raised one dark eyebrow in amusement. She looked beyond lost and the fact she was trying to disguise her awkwardness made her look cuter than she already was.
‘Are you lost, Miss…’ He left the sentence hanging.
‘I’m Florence.’ She offered her hand, but then the suitcase she’d let go of almost toppled over, so she quickly retracted the offer, showing him her garments took priority. ‘Florence Leyland,’ she added swiftly.
‘I’m Heath Silver, one of the owners around here. Can I help you at all, Florence?’
‘Yes, if you wouldn’t mind. I’m looking for the stables.’ She peered over his shoulder, making him glance that way for a moment, even though he knew there was nothing there.
‘Do you mean Lucky Riding Stables?’
Florence’s cornflower-blue eyes sparkled happily. ‘Yes, that’s the place. The driver said it was just across a field somewhere…’ She trailed off, searching the area.
Heath shook his head. ‘Must have been Diesel.’
‘Oh, I don’t know what fuel the car had.’
‘No. I mean the driver. That’s his name. Always drops people off here, rather than drive up the lane to the stables. Reckons it ruins his tyres.’
‘A lane? So I don’t have to cross a field?’
Heath glanced at her shoes. ‘I wouldn’t recommend it without wellies today.’
‘I have some.’ She waggled the handle on her case. ‘But they’re packed away.’
‘Best to take the lane then.’ He gestured to the other side of the closed gate.
Florence looked lost again, but then her bottom lip stiffened and her chin lifted a touch. ‘Thank you.’ She turned to fumble with the latch whilst using one leg to keep a suitcase in place as her long beige mac flapped open, getting in the way.
Heath knew he should help, but watching her was the only thing that had made him smile since his dad passed away. Still, it couldn’t go on. ‘Would you like a lift up to the stables, Florence?’
She turned sharply, and her long ash-blonde hair whipped around her blushed cheeks. ‘Ooh, yes, please.’
He stepped forward and took both her cases, not realising just how heavy they would be. ‘My truck’s this way.’
They headed to the driveway, and Heath used more strength than he knew he needed to toss her baggage into the back.
‘Erm, don’t you have a sheet to put down first?’ she asked, nervously looking down at her luggage.
‘They’re just cases.’
‘They’re designer.’
Heath frowned into the back of his pickup truck. ‘I’m sure they’ll be fine. Now, are you coming?’ He climbed inside and wondered if she was waiting for him to open the door for her. As she was still standing there, he leaned over and pushed it open an inch so she’d get the hint.
Florence didn’t hide her reluctance to enter. She scanned the seat, then wiped one hand over the leather before seemingly deciding it would be okay for her coat to touch its surface.
‘You okay there, Florence?’
‘Oh, yes, I’m a little tired, and my feet hurt, and the last vehicle I was in smelled like mackerel, but apart from that, I’m okay.’ She glanced out the side window. ‘Do you know if the lady who owns the stables has tea?’
‘Tea?’
Florence nodded as she turned his way. ‘I’m parched.’
Heath grinned to himself. ‘Rhett Smithson wouldn’t be able to survive without her morning cuppa. So, yeah, I reckon she has tea.’
‘Ooh, good. There was a sign back there that mentioned a café, but I didn’t see one.’
‘The Gatehouse Café. It’s being rebuilt as we speak.’
‘That explains the mess. I didn’t see any builders.’
‘Lunch break.’ He side-eyed her, then carried on concentrating on the bumpy lane leading up to Rhett’s house, not that he needed to concentrate. He could do the drive blindfolded, he’d done it that often. ‘So, Florence. What brings you to Pepper Bay?’
‘I have a new job at the stables.’
From the moment he laid eyes on the woman, he’d been entertained, amused, and now he was utterly intrigued. She had to be joking, surely.
‘Are you like an office worker or something? You helping with the paperwork?’
‘No. I’m helping with the horses.’ She nodded and smiled sweetly. ‘It’s not my usual job.’
‘You don’t say.’
‘But it’s free bed and breakfast for my services, and that suits me fine.’
Why is Rhett giving away free bed and breakfast?
‘Ooh, is that it?’ Florence leaned closer to the windscreen. ‘Looks…’ He waited for her to decide on a word. ‘Dark.’
‘Just needs a lick of paint.’
‘Hope she chooses white. Yes, that would work. Perhaps I’ll make the suggestion.’
Good luck with that.
Heath pulled up outside the main door and clambered out, staring at the old house he hadn’t step foot in for many years. His mind was whirling with questions he knew he shouldn’t be bothered with, but something didn’t feel right, and it was way more than Florence tending to horses whilst wearing pink stilettoes.
Florence had seemed to forget she brought suitcases as she headed straight for the house to greet Rhett, who had just appeared, staring straight at Heath.
It was obvious Rhett looked uncomfortable with him being there. But there was something else. It had only been a few weeks since he last saw her face, and something had changed in such a short period of time. A gauntness, shadows beneath her eyes, and the strength in her usual stance appeared somewhat weak.
It’s not Willow travelling bothering her. She’s used to her being away. Maybe my dad’s death hit her harder than I thought.
He reached into the back of his truck, making a grab for the cases. He plonked the luggage on the porch and waved off Florence’s purse as it came his way. ‘No need for that. Happy to help.’
‘Thank you so much, Heath. I’ll be here for a few months, so it’s nice to meet the locals.’ She flashed him a pearly white smile, then stared out across the long green field that led to his flower farm, as though assessing the journey.
‘Good to meet you, Florence. Come over whenever you want. Perhaps we can pick you out some flowers for your room.’ He glanced at Rhett. ‘Help cheer the place up a bit.’
Rhett’s hazel eyes narrowed.
‘That would be lovely, thank you.’ Florence linked arms with Rhett, taking her by surprise it would appear, going by the look of horror that washed across her face for a split second.
Not enough time for the newbie to notice, but Heath knew all of Rhett’s facial expressions. He knew every inch of her faintly freckled face.
‘You can come too, Rhett. We can choose some blooms together,’ Florence said.
Heath fought back the laugh dying to leave his throat. ‘Yeah, anytime, Rhett.’ He met her glare with his own.
‘I’m not big on flowers,’ she said slowly.
Florence giggled. ‘Everyone loves flowers. I’m sure you get plenty sent your way.’
Heath locked eyes with Rhett.
You never let me send you any. Said your dad wouldn’t approve. God, I still hate that man.
A sudden thought flashed through his mind of the time beneath their tree when he made Rhett a daisy chain and placed it on her head.
Rhett smiled warmly at Florence. ‘Oh, the occasional daisy.’ She quickly turned, grabbing one of the suitcases, and headed indoors.
Heath stared at the doorway as though in a trance until Florence landed an unexpected kiss on his cheek and said goodbye. He blinked hard, gathered his bearings, jumped back in his truck, and drove off.