AS JARRETT picked his way carefully down the steep grassy bank that was made potentially treacherous by the odd jagged stone hidden amongst the greenery the chocolate-brown Lab accompanying him passed him with a swift, much more sure-footed tread. He lifted his head to follow the dog’s enthusiastic trail, and his gaze was suddenly captured by an unexpected sight. At the foot of the valley just ahead, down by the familiar babbling brook that the dog usually made a beeline for, he spied the unfamiliar figure of a lithe young woman dressed in jeans and a khaki-coloured weatherproof jacket. Her hands held a camera, and as he observed her she dropped to her haunches to photograph something.
At this distance it was hard to see what it was, but it crossed Jarrett’s mind that the woman might be one of those horticulturists who occasionally visited the area, cataloguing some rare plant or flower. It was a fine spring day and, having just closed the deal on a prime parcel of land not twenty miles from here, Jarrett was predisposed to be sociable.
‘Hello there!’ he called out as he drew nearer, and the woman lifted her head and glanced round at him, startled. As he drew nearer, the beauty of her face literally stopped him in his tracks. Who was she? Inside his chest his heart thumped hard—as though he’d sprinted down that treacherous hillside. He’d never come across eyes of such a light green hue before … like the softest summer grass. And the silky mantle of chestnut hair that flowed down over her shoulders was the perfect foil to bring out the colour, he thought with pleasure as his lips formed an appreciative smile. ‘It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?’
‘Charlie? Charlie, come over here to me right now!’
He hadn’t seen the child, but at the woman’s urgent-voiced command, like an arrow expertly released from its bow to fly towards its target, he appeared out of a distant clump of trees and threw himself into her lap, almost knocking her over. Was she his mother? Jarrett wondered. She looked almost too young.
Though she might just be a passing stranger, the need to know who she was wouldn’t leave him alone. ‘I didn’t mean to startle you,’ he apologised, holding out his hand, ‘My name’s Jarrett Gaskill. I live on the other side of that rise up there.’
If he’d been expecting her to reciprocate with similar information then he was doomed to disappointment. Glancing at his outstretched hand, the green-eyed beauty made no move to take it. Instead she laid down her camera, sat back on the grass and tenderly patted the small boy on his back, as if to reassure him that everything was all right. The child’s riot of dark curls was tucked beneath her chin as if he wanted to hide.
‘I know it may not look like it, but I’m not taking pictures purely for my own amusement. I’m actually working.’
The bewitching green eyes flashed, but for a moment Jarrett’s attention was more captivated by her voice. There was such resolve and firmness in its husky tones—a warning too—that it took him aback. Did she think he presented some kind of threat to her and the child?
The thought made him retreat a couple of steps, and he let his hand drop uselessly down by his side. As if to remind him of his presence, the chocolate Lab that he was dog-sitting for his sister Beth nudged his muzzle into his palm and gave him a lick. The creature had done his usual trick of galloping joyfully through the water, and as a result was now sopping wet from head to tail. ‘It’s all right, boy … we’ll be on our way in just a minute.’
‘Was there something else?’
The woman appeared almost affronted that he might be contemplating staying for even a second longer when she’d clearly demonstrated that his presence wasn’t welcome. Swallowing down the disagreeable sense of rejection that curdled briefly in the pit of his stomach, Jarrett met her unflinching glare with an equally unwavering one of his own. His lip even curled a little mockingly. ‘No … I was simply passing the time of day. Nothing more sinister than that.’