Securing a bunch more jobs for local people was also a huge selling point in the plan’s favour, as far as Mia was concerned. A new challenge wouldn’t go amiss, either.

  She shook her head, startled at the way her thoughts were running away with her. It was almost like she’d made her mind up already, and she hadn’t even phoned the man to find out more, never mind learning how much he was selling for.

  Figuring he’d waited—she checked the arrival date of his email—two weeks for a response already, a little longer wouldn’t make the slightest bit of difference. She’d mull it over first and give him a call in a couple of days.

  Another puppyish bark rang out. Mia smiled and swung her chair around again. Harry darted into view, followed closely by Thomas, who carried a large garden waste sack. She jumped up and opened the window. A burst of humid air rushed in to meet her. “Tom!”

  He stopped and turned, then looked up at her. “Hello. You all right?”

  “Fine. You had lunch yet?”

  “No.”

  “Want some?”

  He smiled. “What are you, the queen of silly questions?”

  Mia rolled her eyes and chuckled. “Meet you in the kitchen.”

  He wasn’t far from the kitchen door and, knowing he’d get there first, said, “I’ll put the kettle on.”

  “Great. See you in a sec.” With that, she closed the window, then shifted the chair back into its rightful place and got up. She switched off the desk fan that had been idly moving air around and left the room.

  She’d barely got a foot over the threshold of the kitchen when Harry barrelled over to her, panting and wagging his tail so fast his whole backend wiggled. She laughed and bent to fuss him. “Hello, you little nutter. Are you being good for your dad? Have you been helping him in the garden?”

  “If peeing on everything and grabbing every stick he finds is helping, then sure,” Thomas put in wryly. He’d been as good as his word and two cups of tea were in progress. He’d also placed two empty plates on the table. “If the lawns end up with dead patches everywhere, I hope you’re not going to blame me. Blame that little horror.” He squeezed out a teabag and dumped it in the bin, then repeated the process on the other mug, before adding milk to each.

  “Aww, he’s not a little horror.” She scratched behind Harry’s ears, melting as his eyes closed in bliss and his tail wagged even faster. She hadn’t even thought that was possible. “You’re not a horror, are you, Harry? You’re a good boy. A gorgeous boy.”

  Thomas picked up the mugs and carried them over to the table, then sat down. “You might not say that when you see what he’s been up to. Bit of pruning, as well as the constant peeing and stick grabbing. He’s into everything—you need eyes in the back of your head.” Harry scurried over to him, his claws clicking on the floor, and sat at his feet, gazing up at him adoringly.

  Mia bit her lip to stifle a smile. “He’ll grow out of that. He’s only a baby. And since he’s got you with him all the time, he’ll soon learn right from wrong. He’s probably punishing you for going away for three weeks and leaving him. I know he was well cared for while we were away, but he must have missed you like crazy.”

  “Yeah, you could be right there. I’m sure he missed you, too.” He reached down and scratched the dog’s head. “Anyway, how are you getting on? I’m guessing you’ve had a shit-ton to deal with.”

  She grimaced. “You could say that. What about you? How did Bobby do?”

  Bobby was the son of one of Mia’s tenant farmers. He’d been employed to work on the gardens while Thomas was away—holidaying with some friends, or so everyone else had thought. It wasn’t a complete lie. She didn’t enjoy coming up with these fabrications when the need arose, and nor did Thomas, but it was a necessity. Admitting he’d joined her and her new husband—whom she didn’t even live with—on honeymoon would set a cat amongst the pigeons. And that would be without admitting Alex and Arjun had been there, too. The thought process reminded her that she needed to come up with a way of breaking the news to James and Betty. They had to know, because the idea of sneaking around her own damn land and property forevermore was not at all appealing. But then, nor was the idea of telling them she was in romantic relationships with three other men, as well as her husband. She pushed the worries from her mind as Thomas replied.

  “Great. Seems he’s a very capable lad. I’d only asked him to cut the lawns once a week, keep on top of weeds and dead-heading as best he could, and make sure everything was watered. Nothing too taxing—you know I’m particular about planting and pruning—but he’s done what was asked of him, and done it well. I’m more than happy to sling him a few quid in the future if I need some help during the busier times.”

  “That’s good news.” She wandered over to the fridge and found that Betty had already made sandwiches and prepared a bowl of salad. “My God, the woman’s an angel.” She pulled out the plate and bowl and took them over to the table, then slipped into a seat. It pained her not to show Thomas the affection she wanted to, but it wasn’t possible with Betty and James buzzing about the place. It was far too easy to get caught, as they’d learned to their detriment several months ago when Betty had discovered them in a heated clinch in Mia’s office. Betty may have been fobbed off once, but if her eagle eyes spied them being too cosy again, there was no way she’d accept any more excuses.

  They began eating lunch in between their chatter.

  “I’m glad Bobby’s made your return to work easier. And I guess it’s always beneficial to have someone reliable on call to help out when needed. What if you were ill or injured?”

  “Bloody hell, Mia, don’t tempt fate,” Thomas frowned, then took a swallow of his tea.

  “Sorry. I just meant that if you couldn’t work for any reason, it’s good to have a backup plan. I’d do what I could, but I’ve got enough stuff of my own to deal with. And I couldn’t possibly ask Betty or James to do anything more than water the odd hanging basket.”

  Thomas chuckled.

  “What?”

  “Sorry, it’s just the thought of any of the three of you gardening is pretty funny. I’m sure James could do the basics, but,” he lowered his voice, “he and Betty are no spring chickens. I wouldn’t like to think of them doing too much bending and lifting. And as for you… do you know one end of a spade from the other?”

  She fixed him with a cool look. “As a matter of fact, I do. The wide metal end is the one I’ll use to smack you around the head if you carry on taking the piss.”

  “Very good—I’m impressed. Maybe you could be of some use, after all!”

  She flicked him the ‘v’, to which he responded with a wide smile. “We can’t all be good at everything, can we? That’d make the world a very dull place. Much as I have faith in your abilities, you couldn’t do my job. Not straight off the bat, anyway.”

  Thomas shuddered. “Wouldn’t want to, either. Way too much responsibility and paperwork. Give me grass and trees and shrubs and flowers any day. Speaking of which, you didn’t elaborate on your shit-ton of work. I take it everything’s been okay in your absence?”

  “Yes. James has kept things ticking along, but there’s only so much he can do or deal with. You’re not the only one who’s precious about who does certain things for you. I’ve been wading through emails since I got into the office and haven’t really scratched the surface. Mostly routine stuff so far, except…” She stopped, wondering how much she should say, if anything. Not that she ever did, or ever would, keep secrets from Thomas, but was it worth saying anything if it could all come to nothing?

  He swallowed his mouthful of cucumber and raised his eyebrows. “Except?”

  “I wasn’t going to say anything until I’d had more time to think about it, but you usually come up with bright ideas and see things differently to me, so you’re actually the ideal person to bounce this off of. I had an email…” She outlined Marsden’s message. “So, what do you reckon? I have no idea how much he wants for it a
t this point—it could be a ludicrous amount for all I know—but what’s your knee-jerk reaction?”

  “I think it’s a bloody brilliant idea,” he said, his blue eyes serious for once. “I know a few of his employees, including the manager, and they all seem happy and have plenty of work to do. It’s a huge area, so I can’t imagine it’ll be cheap, but if you’re buying the business as is then it’ll be earning you money from the moment the papers are signed. And, like the old boy says, someone younger with fresh ideas in charge could take things to the next level.” He clapped his hands together. “It sounds exciting. If you decide to go over there and take a look around, I’d love to come with you, if that’s all right. Have a nosey.”

  “Sounds like you’re angling for a career move,” she said, tipping him a wink, then taking the final bite of her ham and cheese sandwich.

  “No way. You know me, I’m a curious sort, and I’d be interested to see how the business model works—and I certainly wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to fell an enormous tree if it was offered to me—but gardening is my first love.” He glanced towards the door, then back at Mia. “Well, my first non-human love. And non-canine.” He scrubbed at Harry’s furry head, earning himself a volley of enthusiastic licks.

  “Fair enough. I admit my first instinct was a positive one, too. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t being crazy and considering it just because it’d stop development on adjacent land.”

  Thomas shrugged. “That’s a huge motivator, for definite. I’d hate to see the land cleared and built on as much as you.”

  She wasn’t at all surprised to hear him say that. This was as much his home as it was hers. Mia was his only family. Or had been. Now he had Harry, as well as Elias, Alex, and Arjun, too.

  He continued, “But if it’s something you want, something you’re interested in, then I think it makes a lot of sense. It fits in perfectly with your passion and ethos for keeping local people in work. Obviously I haven’t a clue about the money side of things, whether it’s financially viable or not, but you’ve got a bloody excellent business brain, and you have contacts that could advise you. Not least your husband.”

  “Elias?” She frowned.

  “Er, yes. That’s the one. Unless you have a husband I don’t know about.” He picked up his tea and took a sip, watching her carefully over the rim of his mug.

  She ignored his comment, part of her refusing to rise to his bait, and the other part wondering why the hell she hadn’t thought of that before. A man in his position would have knowledge of all kinds of different businesses, as well as access to information and valuable contacts. He’d be able to make sure she wasn’t sinking funds into what turned out to be a money pit.

  She was vaguely aware of Harry coming up to her and nuzzling her for attention. Stroking him absently with one hand, she picked up her tea with the other and mulled over her options. After a minute or two, she gave a decisive nod and looked up to find Thomas watching her with an amused expression. “Sorry,” she said, “I was in the zone.”

  “I gathered that. That’s why I didn’t interrupt. So, what’s your verdict?”

  “I’m going to finish my lunch, then go and phone Marsden. Elias will want to know facts and figures, I reckon, so I’ll gather all the information Marsden’s willing to give, maybe set up an appointment so you and I can go and check things out over there, and phone Elias when he’s finished work to see if he’s got any insight that could be helpful.”

  “Great.” He smiled. “Wow—exciting times. I thought life would settle down once we got back into the swing of things, but it seems the adventure is just beginning.”

  She couldn’t help a sneaky glimpse over her shoulder to make sure they were still alone. “And you’re all right with that, are you? More adventures, I mean?”

  “Absolutely. As long as I’ve got you, that little lad,” he jerked his chin towards where Harry still sat at Mia’s feet, nudging her insistently whenever she dared to stop stroking him, “and some soil to dig my hands into, I’m all good. Everything else, adventures included, is a bonus.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Mia smiled and nodded, despite the fact she was talking on the telephone and the person she was conversing with couldn’t see her. “That’s wonderful, Mr Marsden. Thank you so much for all the information. It’s certainly given me a lot to think about. My garden manager and I will be over tomorrow for our appointment with your site manager, then I’ll be in touch when I’ve had time to think and discuss the proposition with my advisers. I very much appreciate you giving me the right of first refusal, and I promise I won’t keep you waiting long for my answer.”

  “You’re welcome, Mrs Harrington.” She’d told him she’d kept her surname—though obviously not the reasons why—and to his credit he hadn’t batted an eyelid. Figuratively, that was. Since she couldn’t see him, either, he could be pulling all manner of faces down the receiver—but she doubted it. “As I explained, I am in no huge hurry to sell up, so I am more than happy to wait for your decision. I would much rather hang on and deal with someone who I know will behave responsibly and decently with the land and business. Yes, do go to see my man, Darren Ayre, tomorrow. I have given you all the pertinent financial details, and he will fill you in on the day-to-day running side of things. I believe that will give you the bigger picture and everything you need to fully inform your decision. However, if you find you have further questions after Darren has shown you around, I would be more than happy to answer them. You know where I am.”

  “I do, Mr Marsden. Thank you again, and I look forward to visiting the site tomorrow. Take care now, goodbye.”

  “You too, Mrs Harrington. It has been lovely talking to you. Goodbye.”

  Mia let out a huge whoosh of air from her mouth as she replaced the receiver. The conversation with Marsden had been nerve-wracking, intriguing and exhilarating all at once. Everything he’d said had increased her interest in buying the business and land, and she’d had to exercise all her restraint not to say yes there and then. Not that it would matter if she did—she had the funds and nobody to answer to, after all—but common sense and her good business sense told her it wasn’t a smart idea to be hasty. Especially since she hadn’t even seen the site. She might not get a good feeling about it once she was there. It was less than twenty-four hours before she’d find out, so she determined to put it out of her mind for now and get back to wading through her inbox. Sadly, the emails weren’t disappearing of their own accord. If anything, they were multiplying. They’re like bloody rabbits.

  An hour or so later, she was about to go and get herself a nice, cold glass of lemonade when a new email notification flashed up. Normally she’d ignore it, as she had been all day, since she was still working through from oldest to newest, but the subject line made it impossible.

  Business Proposition

  She frowned. Seriously? Two in one day? But then, she remembered, technically it wasn’t. Marsden had first been in touch a couple of weeks ago, while she’d been on honeymoon. Still, what were the chances? Things had been ticking along nicely since Mia had been managing the place single-handedly. She’d been considering possible new ventures, but in the run up to the wedding, hadn’t had a spare minute to even think, never mind do anything about it. And now two propositions had landed in her lap within weeks of each other.

  Mia narrowed her eyes. Was it too good to be true? Was this second message even genuine? This time, she didn’t recognise the sender’s name at all. For all she knew, it could be a spam email with a deliberately intriguing subject line, designed to make the recipient open it. The actual contents of the message could be any kind of rubbish or even porn. Time to find out. She clicked.

  To Whom it May Concern,

  Please forgive the impersonal nature of this message, but I’m contacting several people I think may be interested in this opportunity, and things are moving rather quickly so I’m trying to save time.

  I own and run Spraxton’s Cider Farm in Barton
Hill—a small but thriving and profitable business. Due to an unexpected medical diagnosis I have recently received, however, I find myself in a position where selling up is the only thing I can do. This is a complete outfit—with orchards, all the outbuildings and machinery needed to turn the apples into cider, then bottle it, and store it until it can be shipped. There is also a full compliment of experienced and enthusiastic staff. I wouldn’t be leaving all this behind if I had any kind of choice. I am looking for a quick sale, but would give priority to anyone who agreed to keep the staff members in their jobs. I have no wish to see such loyal, hardworking people put out of work.

  If this is something that is of interest to you, please get in touch so we can arrange a meeting. You can respond either to this email address, or call me at the mobile number below—though forgive me if I don’t respond right away as I’m currently spending as much time in medical facilities as I am at the farm or at home and am not always able to answer the telephone.

  Kind Regards,

  Simon Spraxton

  Mia raised her eyebrows. Was this for real? It certainly didn’t read like a spam email—it wasn’t asking her to click on any links, fill in any forms, or supply any information, but it did come across as a bit of a sob story. But then, if that were the case, wouldn’t Spraxton have gone into full details of his ‘unexpected medical diagnosis’ to really pluck at the heartstrings? Instead, he’d matter-of-factly stated the reason for needing a speedy sale without giving much away at all. Which was his right, of course. It was personal. It was odd, however, that he’d taken the time to procure her email address, but had sent a copy and pasted email, rather than personalising it in any way. He really must be in a hurry to sell his business.