A Family Forever (6 page)

The old man's gaze narrowed, his bushy eyebrows wriggling down like two hairy caterpillars. "I ain't got nothin' against you, Cantrell, but I won't help that O'Shea woman."

His words fired Adam's protective instincts. Victoria obviously hadn't exaggerated the farmer's bad attitude. "Whatever you think she did to offend you, I'm sure it was unintended."

"The answer's no, Cantrell. And if I see any of them hedgehogs in my fields, I'll kill 'em."

Disgust at Andrews's callous attitude turned Adam's stomach. But arguing wouldn't solve a thing. He glanced over his shoulder at where Victoria sat in the car. Thank goodness she hadn't heard the threat, otherwise she'd worry for the safety of the hedgehogs that had wandered away from Larchfield and already lived in the fields. At least the animals were nocturnal and the farmer was unlikely to see them.

The old man's jaw set in a stubborn line. Adam knew he'd be wasting his breath to say another word. He simply turned his back and headed to the four-wheel drive.

The sound of shuffling footsteps made him look over his shoulder. Andrews hurried after him with his bandy-legged gait, his gun clutched in his hand. Adam picked up his pace. He jumped in his vehicle and started the engine.

Victoria's breath hissed in as the farmer appeared at her side window.

"Get off my land!" He banged a fist on her window. "You ain't welcome here."

Adam gunned the engine, trying to drown out the man's words.

"Stay outta my fields and keep them prickly vermin out as well."

Adam pressed his foot on the gas and shot down the bumpy drive. A glance in his rear view mirror showed Andrews was staring after them waving his gun.

"That guy's got a screw loose. I should have listened to you. I'm sorry to subject you to his temper," Adam said.

Once they reached the road, Adam eased up and glanced at his passenger. Victoria's eyes shone with tears as she bit her lips.

Oh, hell. Why hadn't he listened to her and kept away from Willowbrook Farm? He pulled onto the edge of the road and reached for her. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm sorry."

She leaned into his arms and he cradled the back of her head in his hand. Her silky hair slid against his palm. He leaned down and touched his nose to the top of her head. Her sweet floral fragrance filled his senses. Lord, the woman smelled good. And he shouldn't be thinking this way. Not when she was upset.

She pressed her face against his shoulder. "It's-not-your-fault," she whispered, obviously struggling not to cry.

He wished desperately he hadn't taken her to Andrews's farm. "I'm going to sort this out for you. He won't shout at you again." He wasn't sure how, right now. But he'd find a way.

She shook her head. "No. You'll just make him worse."

Adam longed to press his lips against her forehead. Instead he pressed his lips together.

He was damned if he'd walk away in a few days and leave this situation unresolved. The miserable old blighter was obviously intimidating Victoria. Adam would not stand for that. He treated people fairly and had a good rep among his employees, but he could be tough when he wanted to. In some countries where he'd worked, that was the only way to gain people's respect.

Geoff Andrews might think his behavior was none of Adam's business, but Adam had just made it his business.

Her silent tears dampened his shirt. "I wish I had a clean, neatly folded hanky to offer you," Adam said, "but I'm not that well organized."

She gave a watery laugh and drew back. "Sorry, Adam. I didn't mean to blubber all over you." She wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. "I promised myself I wouldn't let him get to me."

"You shouldn't have to put up with that kind of treatment."

She sighed and leaned back in her seat. "Can we pop in to Prickly Ball Cottage for a few minutes? I'd like to freshen up a little and repair my makeup."

"Of course. No problem." Adam headed back into Great Monkton and stopped outside the quaint cottage. "Do you want me to wait in the car?"

"No, don't be silly. Come in and we'll have a cup of tea before we leave again. I feel as if I need something to bolster my strength."

Adam followed Victoria inside. While she nipped upstairs, he put the kettle on and made a pot of tea. She returned in a couple of minutes with makeup disguising her flushed face and red eyes. She'd put something pink and shiny on her lips and they looked very tempting as she pursed them to sip her tea.

In the quiet moments before Adam fell asleep last night, she'd invaded his thoughts. Now the memory of her slim body in his arms and the fragrance of her silky hair was going to plague him. This woman had cast a spell over him with her gentle smile and luminous blue eyes.

In the tight space of the tiny kitchen, she brushed past him as she tidied up. He longed to take her in his arms again, to kiss her and make her forget about the miserable old farmer. But as he was only here for a few weeks, it would be unfair to start something between them

When they finished their tea, they headed back to his car and set off to explore another area for potential hedgehog release sites.

Unfortunately, the rest of the day continued as it had started. The people they called on were mostly disinterested, a few actively hostile. By the end of the day, they had only found one place that would take a hedgehog.

That evening, as Harry slept in his camp bed in the sitting room at Larchfield, Adam spread the map on his sleeping bag and examined the area surrounding Great Monkton. He circled Willowbrook Farm in red pen, and chewed his lip as he surveyed the green fields around the property.

From the map, it was impossible to tell how much land old Andrews owned, but he certainly owned the field beside Larchfield. Adam wanted that field. If he could persuade the old guy to sell, it would solve the hedgehog relocation problem. From the state of Willowbrook Farm, the farmer obviously wasn't flush with money. Adam knew from experience that a wad of cash often talked when words failed.

Victoria had confided in him that Andrews regularly threatened her when she walked across the field. If Adam bought it, she would be able to walk all over it to her heart's content and release her hedgehogs into the hedges without fear of intimidation.

He needed to ask around, find out more about the farmer. The obvious place to start was with the man's daughter who owned the pub.

Chapter Six

"Come on. Out you get." Adam held open the car door and watched his son clamber out, a scowl on his face. Harry had hardly said two words to him that morning. He didn't know what he'd done to earn the cold shoulder.

"Cheer up. It's a lovely day." They headed across the Plume of Feathers' car park and around the side of the pub to the garden at the back where they'd arranged to meet Harry's tutor.

Tim Donaldson sat at one of the wooden tables under a fluttering green umbrella, reading a newspaper. This early in the day, the garden was quiet. They had the grassy area to themselves.

Wooden tables and benches with umbrellas above dotted the lawn. Ducks sat on the grass or wandered around pecking at the ground. The peace was broken only by the noise of the birds and the rushing water in the river that ran past the pub.

The place was a far cry from noisy central London where Adam and Harry lived. Even when they walked in the parks, they could never escape the ever-present drone of traffic and the smell of pollution.

Harry had taken his lessons from Tim on planes and yachts, in hotel rooms and the backs of cars, by a pool in Florida, on a terrace overlooking the Mediterranean in Greece, and once, in a sheik's palace. But it was the first time they'd sat in the English countryside for a lesson.

Tim raised his hand when he spotted them. "Hi there. Ready for a morning of math, Harry?"

Harry grunted, drawing a frown from Adam. His son adored Tim and normally enjoyed his lessons. Today, Harry dropped down on the bench seat, his shoulders slumped. He barely managed a hello before he fired up his laptop.

"What's the matter, pal?" Adam rested a hand on his son's shoulder.

"Nothing," Harry mumbled.

Adam met Tim's gaze and the young tutor raised his eyebrows in question. Adam shook his head to indicate he had no idea what had caused his son's bad mood.

"Okay, Harry, let's turn to page sixteen," Tim encouraged.

As the tutor continued his instructions, Adam joined them at the table and pulled his iPad out of its case to take advantage of the pub's wifi and send a few e-mails.

The lesson progressed as Adam worked. His phone rang, and he took a call from the project manager at his Florida condo development, moving away from the table so he didn't interrupt Tim and Harry.

When he returned, Harry had his arms crossed and a scowl back on his face. "I don't want to do math today, Dad."

"Come on, pal. Math is useful. If I didn't know my math, I wouldn't be able to make head nor tail of the plans of my developments or check how much money I was making."

"I don't care about your stupid developments." Harry glared at him, his cheeks pinking. "You're building houses on the place where Sophie's mum puts the hedgehogs, and it's making Soph sad."

Whoa. Adam paused at the vehemence of his son's tone. His feelings had obviously been brewing for a while. "It's nice of you to worry about your friend and her mum. I feel the same way. That's why I'm trying to make things right for Sophie, Victoria, and the hedgehogs. I promise we won't move on until they're happy." He rested a hand on Harry's back, but got no response.

Adam's phone chimed to indicate a text. "Do your math, pal. We'll talk about this again later."

He observed his son for a few minutes as he grudgingly continued his work. Then Adam turned his attention to his phone. The text was a tip from a reliable contact—a potential development of luxury villas around a golf course near Marbella in southern Spain. The construction company that started it had gone bust. Adam had the chance to take over the project dirt cheap and make a killing in a couple of years when the Spanish property market picked up.

Wandering back and forth, he massaged the tension in his neck and weighed his options. He'd rather not leave Great Monkton right now. He wanted to sort out the hedgehog issue as soon as possible so he could forge ahead with the Larchfield development. But he needed to act on the Spanish deal immediately or he'd likely miss out. The trip would only take a few days. He could be back here on Sunday.

Mind made up, he carried his phone to the far end of the pub garden by the river where ducks dabbled among the reeds. He called his London office and asked them to book three seats on a flight to Malaga the following day.

"Book a nice hotel, a suite," he said to his personal assistant. "I'd like a place right on the beach if possible with good water sports facilities." Harry needed to stop worrying. He'd have to grow up soon enough, but ten was far too young to be stressing over grown-up concerns. A few days on the beach might distract him.

While he was talking to his office, he asked to be transferred to his research team. "There's a place I want info on." He gave the address of Willowbrook Farm. "The owner's name is Geoff Andrews. Give me everything you can find on the property and any dirt on the owner. I might need leverage to get him to sell me some land." He didn't normally resort to underhanded tactics to acquire what he wanted, but in this case he'd make an exception.

He wandered back to see how Harry and Tim were progressing and was pleased to hear Harry chatting more happily.

"Good news," Adam said with a smile. "We're going to shoot over to Spain for a few days. You can—"

"No!"

Harry's shout startled Adam into silence.

"I won't go." Harry turned to his tutor. "Stay with me, Tim. Then I won't have to go with Dad."

Pain sliced through Adam. He'd thought they were a team, yet his son didn't want to be with him. Adam had longed for his parents to take him with them when they travelled instead of leaving him at home with a nanny, and later packing him off to boarding school. He'd pledged never to do the same to Harry. But that was exactly what his son had just asked him to do.

"Why?" He struggled to keep the hurt out of his voice.

"I want to live at Larchfield, Dad. Then the hedgehogs can stay in the garden, and I'll get to see Soph every day."

Adam dropped down on the bench and rubbed the burning pain in his neck. He'd known Harry liked Larchfield. He hadn't realized how much.

"Larchfield Hall is huge, pal. We don't want a home that big."

"Can we buy a cottage like Soph and her mum have, then?"

Lord, no. A place that size would give him claustrophobia. He'd most likely brain himself on one of the low beams.

"Look, pal, once we finish with the Larchfield development, I promise we'll move out of London to a house with a garden. There're plenty of villages in the countryside around the city." The commute to his office would take a little longer, but on the plus side, if he bought a place in the right area, he might be nearer Heathrow and Gatwick airports.

"That's too far away from Soph."

Adam patted the back of his son's head, a smile on his lips. Sophie had obviously cast her spell over Harry. His son was growing up so fast.