5
Heath
A light mist carried by a cool breeze surrounded Heath as he trod carefully over the field at the back of his farm. He continued to follow the thumping sound vibrating beneath his bare feet until he reached the thick trunk of a tree. He peered down at the hard earth, wondering how he would be able to claw his way through the ground when there were no tools to help.
A woman’s muffled voice called out to him, over and over whilst banging, constantly banging, messing with his senses. He dropped to his knees, the dampness seeping straight through his jeans. She cried out to him, and a deep gut-wrenching pain brought bile to the back of his throat.
‘Rhett?’ he cried, losing his voice in the process.
Thump, thump, thump. ‘Heath. Heath.’
With tight lungs constricting his airflow, he gripped his fingernails into the soil, digging like a dog searching for its bone.
‘Heath. Heath,’ were her faint words.
He couldn’t breathe properly on her behalf. She was buried deep, and he had to free her, no matter what. With bloody hands, bruised knuckles, and his energy fading, he tried so hard to break through the surface of the dried, hard, grass-ingrained mud, but he was going nowhere fast. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes as her husky voice continued to call out his name over and over and over…
Heath gasped as his damp eyes shot open. It took him a moment to gather his bearings. It was his bedroom. He was in bed. No field. No tree. No Rhett. He took a breath and wiped the side of his face, removing evidence of his nightmare.
‘Christ!’
A loud bang from downstairs had him shoot up. His heart was already pounding from his dream, keeping him alert and in need of a workout or chamomile tea or something to calm his racing thoughts.
‘Heath?’ shouted his mum.
He scrambled out of bed and trotted down to his front door.
Fran stood on his doorstep, huddled in a large, pale-green, wool-blend coat. ‘Why wasn’t your phone on? I’ve been trying to wake you for twenty minutes.’
His frazzled brain took a second to process her words. He glanced over at his coffee table, even though he was sure his phone was by his bed. ‘It must have died.’ His eyebrows knitted as he made for the kitchen. Coffee was needed, if not something stronger. ‘What time is it?’
‘Never mind that,’ said Fran, following him into the warm air caused by the central heating being accidentally left on all night. ‘We’ve had a break-in.’
Heath turned on the spot, noticing his mother’s weariness. The grey flecks in her blue eyes almost sparkled like silver from the water held back by sheer determination alone. ‘What break-in? The main house?’
She shook her head, causing her white dishevelled bun to wobble. ‘Garden centre.’
He made a grab for his red plaid jacket and shrugged it over his pyjamas before tugging on dark wellies. ‘Have you called the police?’
‘Tyler did, and Finn’s checking doors and windows everywhere.’ She jogged to keep up with his large strides as he hurried outside. ‘The shop’s okay. They didn’t get in. It’s the fields, Heath. They’ve trampled and destroyed so much. There are dead plants tossed all over.’
He swore under his breath as he raced around the main house to peer into the window of their shop. All looked in place and the framework hadn’t been tampered with, but one quick glance at the security camera above the door proved the thug had come prepared. A splattering of black spray paint covered the all-seeing eye, blinding it completely. He figured the others held the same fate.
The middle Silver brother, Finn, came jogging around the corner, stopping short of his big brother. ‘I don’t get it. They haven’t stolen anything.’ He rubbed over his five o’clock shadow whilst glancing up at the paint speckled onto the light-brown brickwork. ‘Bloody hooligan.’
The youngest, Tyler, appeared inside the shop, walking towards them to open the door. ‘It was definitely more than one person. There’s no way someone on their own could cause that much carnage.’ He shook his head as Heath stepped inside to double-check the area.
The till only housed a float, but it was as untouched as the rest of the premises. Thankfully. He made his way through to the back that led out to the open section of the business. All plants and flowers were safe. The gates were still chained, but he gave them a rattle for good measure.
The field he could see through the fence looked as though a combine harvester had not long ploughed through. Mother Nature with the hump couldn’t have done a better job.
He silently cursed the intruders, hoping to catch up with them soon. Clenched fists would do the rest, even though his father had raised him not to fight.
Benton hated violence. Growing up around it made him a humble man who believed aggression was never the answer, no matter the problem.
Heath could feel a presence over his right shoulder. He didn’t need to turn to know it was Finn. His brother still held a slight scent of salt from being out at sea with the RNLI. ‘We’ll get busy in the field as soon as the police have looked.’
‘I’ll call the insurance company once we’ve got a crime number,’ said Tyler, approaching Heath’s other side.
The three brothers, so similar in face but not so in body, focused on the new task for the day. Heath would get no carpentry work done, Finn would have to call the fire station to take time off from his paid job, and Tyler wouldn’t be working in the sweet shop down in Pepper Lane.
Heath turned away from the heartbreaking view. ‘As soon as it hits eight, I’ll send out a message to the staff to let them know we’ll be closed for today.’ He gestured further into the shop. ‘We need to get those cameras cleaned and check out the footage. See what we can pick up before they blacked us out.’
Finn nodded. ‘Vivien’s already doing that back at ours.’
Tyler smiled weakly as his slim frame slouched. ‘I did call my girlfriend to see if she would come over to help today, but she said she’s got to go to the mainland to work.’
She’s never there for you. You’ll realise that one day, kid.
Heath placed an arm around his youngest brother and walked him past the rows of weed killers and lawn seeds. ‘It’s okay, Ty. We’ll manage between us, like we always have.’
Fran met them by the old grey till. ‘They’ve smashed the greenhouse and one of the polytunnels has been slashed.’ She gulped down a whoosh of air, but it was too late. Her boys heard her voice hitch. She flapped one hand at Heath as he stepped forward. ‘There’s no time for that, son. We’ve got work to do. One day’s takings is all we’re going to lose.’ She went to say something else, but a blue flashing light caught everyone’s attention.
Heath made his way to the front and opened the main entrance to greet the police, informing the first officer of the damage.
After seeing the state of the fields, the police went back to the main house, where Vivien met them with fresh coffee, warm toast, and the security footage, which revealed four people in dark clothing and balaclavas.
Notes were taken, a crime reference number given, and everyone went their separate ways to get changed into work clothes for the farm.
Heath was the first on the scene, pondering over where to start. He stood at the foot of a row of battered and beaten plants. Roots upturned, trellis snapped, buds trampled. A moment of gratitude for the rooted Christmas trees in the front field hit him.
I guess they didn’t have time for those.
Benton would wipe away the anger and get stuck in with whatever needed doing, but Heath felt deflated. His mum looked worn through, not needing anything else heavy on her frail shoulders. And she did look so frail lately. Much older than her sixty years, but he figured it was the grief. Her once healthy glow gone, and her soft features looked weather-worn. Fran was tougher than she looked, but losing her soulmate had destroyed her in many ways, all of which were visible to Heath. He knew the feeling. Only difference was, he had the torture of seeing the love of his life quite often, what with her being the mother of his child.
He squatted, holding his head on his knuckles. Now wasn’t the time to crack up, but ever since his father’s sudden death, he couldn’t think straight or sleep soundly. His past kept slapping him in the face for some reason, and Rhett was entering his dreams.
‘You okay, Heath?’ came her husky voice, which he thought he’d imagined for a moment.
He whipped his head up to see the only woman he had ever loved standing over him, seeming to care. It could have been déjà vu or perhaps because the morning felt so surreal, he wasn’t sure, he just felt something familiar wash over him.
Her light eyebrows raised a touch. He guessed she deserved an answer. He felt he did too, on a different subject, but it wasn’t the time to rake over the past. Not that there had ever been a right time. He wasn’t entirely sure why he ever felt the need to talk to her at all.
He creaked to a stand to tower over her medium-build frame. ‘You seen this?’ Stupid question, he knew, but it was all his brain allowed.
‘Viv called. I thought you might need an extra pair of hands.’ She gestured to the way she had come. ‘Florence is putting the horses in the paddock, then she’ll be over to help tidy up too.’
Her pink heels flashed though his mind. The only thing that morning to make him laugh on the inside. He pursed his lips and simply nodded his gratitude.
Hazel eyes were locked on his, saying something, but what?
Even though parts of him wanted to rush forward and sweep her up into his arms, his frozen body failed him. He did what he always did. He just stared back, unable to free himself from her spell.
Rhett swallowed hard, then took one step his way. Her lips were parted, her eyes still on his, and the chemistry building was overwhelming.
If she kisses me, I’m done.
Her hand slowly lifted close to his chest, then Tyler’s voice cut through the charged air like an alarm, jolting them apart to turn his way.
Heath quickly pointed at the ground as his brother approached with a wheelbarrow. ‘Toss out what can’t be saved, and replant what can.’ He aimed his gaze on the first crumpled flower, then lowered to scoop it away, purposely ignoring his company.