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‘But if I don’t take Davina home now, she’ll be in no state to bake in the morning,’ a drawling voice said from the doorway, and Davina let go of Jim’s hand as if she had been stung. Two bright spots of colour stained her cheeks as Rex strolled into the room, a knowing smile on his lips which made her long to hit him.

The drive home was made in silence. Davina knew once again that she was being made to feel in the wrong, despite the fact that he and Adele Wickham must have spent the entire evening together. And Adele was not the kind to let things stay on a strictly platonic level for long, Davina thought spitefully, and suddenly realised that her reactions were remarkably like jealousy—and heaven knew, she had no right to feel that way. If Rex had a mind to encourage Adele, it was none of her business.

When they reached the farmhouse, Davina would have gone straight to bed, but Rex said, more in the tone of an employer than a friend, ‘Put the kettle on. I feel like a cup of strong tea after a party like that.’

With a glance of surprise, Davina did as she was told, but she could not help herself saying impulsively, ‘I thought you were having a good time being lionised by the fair Adele.’

‘What about you and the fair Adele’s brother? I fancy I came in just in time to prevent your being thoroughly kissed,’ Rex retaliated, and Davina was left with nothing to say. She had been holding Jim’s hand and it would be well nigh impossible to convince Rex that she had been on the point of repelling Jim’s intentions on her own account. Coming in, it had probably looked the exact opposite.

They drank their tea in silence far from companionable. In fact it fairly bristled with things left unsaid. As Rex stubbed out his cigarette and picked up his teacup, Davina rose, saying, ‘Well, I’m for bed.’

Rex drained his cup and stood. ‘Leave these. They can wait until the morning.’ Once more it was in the nature of a command and Davina’s back was stiff as she led the way upstairs. She was about to throw a casual ‘goodnight’ over her shoulder when a long arm shot out and closed on the nape of her neck, turning her gently round.

‘I suppose now all the local wolves have had a look at you, I’ll be holding them off in droves,’ Rex drawled, and Davina looked up to meet his eyes.

‘You flatter me.’ She was too taken aback to say more.

‘Do I? I’d lay a small bet that Jim Thomas’s scalp will soon be hanging at that trim little waist,’ said Rex, and put his other arm out as he spoke. Too surprised to resist, Davina let herself be drawn close and felt his lips on her forehead. He drew back his head and she looked up into the hooded eyes to have the landing light blotted out as he lowered his head and swiftly kissed her parted lips.

It all happened so quickly that Davina blinked with shock as Rex kissed and released her all in one quick movement. One minute she had been lying against a broad chest, the next he was holding her bedroom door open and saying with the sardonic note uppermost in his voice, ‘Off you go, and don’t forget to set your alarm.’ He closed it quietly behind her and Davina leaned against the door and listened to his retreating footsteps and the sound of the other bedroom door snapping shut.

She didn’t know about Jim Thomas’s scalp. But there was no doubt her own had been neatly collected by that big man in there. If she’d really been in any doubt about her feelings, that unexpected kiss had settled them. For good or evil, she had fallen head over heels in love, really in love, for the first time in her life.

If
only, Davina thought wistfully at seven-thirty next morning, Rex had felt the same magic, but when he came in for his breakfast, his manner could not have been more casual or matter-of-fact. They were only half way through the meal when the old shepherd arrived, and seeing him look longingly at Rex’s plate, Davina put more bacon on to cook.

Rex and Mr Farr thereafter talked sheep exclusively. Davina could follow foot rot treatment, for as a child she had watched the Welsh farmers put their flocks through foot baths, but drenching and raddling had her stumped.

Finally, she stopped listening to the men’s talk and had just begun to clear away when noises on the track caused her to turn and say, ‘I think the animals are here.’ Soon the yard was full of bleating sheep and when Davina opened the kitchen door to shake the crumbs from the tablecloth, the little black cat darted between her legs and took up its place at the fireside.

‘You know you’ll get me into trouble,’ she told it, but the cat only blinked golden eyes and purred contentedly. Unwilling to put it out into the crowded farmyard, Davina left it where it was as she got on with the housework.

It was fast asleep when Rex brought Mr Farr in for their midday break. The trucks had gone but the bleating from outside showed the ewes were still uneasy. ‘I thought I told you to get rid of that cat,’ Rex began harshly as the old man broke in.

‘Well, bless me! Fancy the old cat coming back. She belonged to Nineveh, but after the old man’s death, young Peter McKay came up and took her home. I’ll call in and tell the boy where she is. He’ll be right bothered that she’s missing.'

‘If you know where it lives we can drop it off when I take you home,’ Rex said. Then turning to Davina he added mockingly, ‘Didn’t I tell you it looked too well fed to be a stray?’

So they were back to square one, Davina thought, because there was certainly nothing loverlike about Rex this morning. It was a sop to her wounded pride therefore when Jim Thomas arriving to check the ewes made no secret of his delight at seeing her and she found herself responding to his wink and whispered ‘See you over tea' with an encouraging nod, despite the grim smile she glimpsed on Rex’s lips.

That evening she managed to finish the second short story and sat up later than usual to type it out for dispatch to the magazine office in London. As they had their last cup of tea before going to bed she asked, ‘Would there be any objection to my borrowing the Land Rover tomorrow to drive into Alston?’

‘Ever driven one?’

‘No, but I’ve had a driving licence for three years. We need stores and I’d like to take the bulky washing to a launderette.'

‘I’ll see how you shape up. If I think you’re competent, I shall not be using it during the morning.’

He was as good as his word. As soon as breakfast was over he got up and beckoned Davina to the doorway. ‘Five minutes to show me how good or bad a driver you are,’ Rex said shortly, and led the way outside.

When Davina had driven down the track, reversed, driven into the shed where the Land Rover was housed, backed out again and parked it neatly, he declared himself satisfied.

‘Leave the keys in the ignition, you can go whenever you’re ready,’ he said, then stopped and drew a roll of notes out of his pocket.

‘You'll need money for food and bring a couple of spare canisters of Calor gas. I think I owe you some wages too,’ he added, eyeing her flushed face with a quizzical gaze. ‘Even I have to admit you’ve more than earned it,’ he added, and watched with an unnerving look in his deep-set eyes as Davina’s flush deepened, this time with annoyance.

She turned on her heel and went inside to fly through the morning chores and then collect the washing in a plastic bag. With a handbag and her precious envelope clutched under one arm she hurried aboard.

But when she pressed the starter button, nothing happened. She made sure the ignition was turned on and tried again, but there was not so much as a sound from under the bonnet. Uttering an exclamation of annoyance, she got down to search for Rex, but he was nowhere to be found and frustration at the wrecking of her plans made her kick the fence with childish disappointment.

It was a beautiful morning, though the breeze off the moors was fresh and Davina was glad of the chunky wool jacket she had slipped over her shirt and jeans. She had not had a chance to really explore the track behind the farm and maybe she would find Rex up there.

But when she paused some half hour later to get her breath and take in the view, she could see no sign of another human being as far as her eye could see. The moorland stretched in every direction, purple now with heather and broken by the occasional furze bush. Drystone walls lined the rough track up which she had come and in the distance she could just sec a faint haze of smoke which she took to be Camshaw. The sun was warm, and Davina sat down to rest, taking off her head scarf to let the breeze play through her curly hair.

She had been up late finishing her typescript last night and late the previous one. The sun, the peace and a convenient root of bracken did the rest. When Davina next opened her eyes, she saw with dismay that the hands of her watch stood at one o’clock, and getting to her feet she ran nearly all the way back to the farm.

Long before she reached the cobbled yard she had seen and recognised Rex’s large unmistakable figure with the much smaller one of the old shepherd standing beside him. When Davina arrived panting he had turned to watch her precipitate arrival and the look on his face was far from reassuring.

‘Where have you been? You asked if you could use the Land Rover, but as far as I can see it’s never been out of the shed since breakfast time.’ He glanced meaningly at his watch. ‘Do you realise what time it is?’

‘Yes—and do you know the Land Rover won’t start?’ Davina ripped back at him, furious that Rex should reprimand her in front of an audience. ‘I decided to go for a walk instead.’

‘Without troubling to leave a note of your change of plan. Didn’t it occur to you that seeing the Land Rover here, I’d expect to find you around?’

‘Since I’m free and over twenty-one—no, it didn’t,’ Davina retorted acidly, trying to ignore the old shepherd listening to the argument with bright eyes alight with amusement.

Over twenty-one you may be,’ Rex said harshly, ‘free you’re not. I expect you here at meal times, so don’t forget in future.’

Tears of rage were ready to spurt out of Davina’s eyes as she turned her back and made for the kitchen door, determined not to give Rex the satisfaction of seeing her cry. In the pantry, she blew her nose before selecting a couple of tins and carrying them out started preparing the meal. But when she turned from washing her hands, the men had not waited to be called to table, and though they talked farming while she worked, Davina was only too aware of the two pairs of eyes watching her every movement.

In other circumstances the hawk-eyed gaze of the man sitting at the head of the table might have made her fumble nervously, but an ice cold rage steadied her as nothing else could. Smouldering at what she considered to be treatment verging on the inhuman, she picked at her ham and mushroom omelette, all gender thoughts forgotten until Mr Farr put down his knife and fork and remarked, ‘That were a treat, missie.’ Then turning to Rex he added with a twinkle, ‘Kissing don’t last. Cooking do,’ as he searched in the pockets of his ancient tweed jacket for his pipe and tobacco pouch.

Across the table Davina’s eyes met a gleam of devilry in Rex’s and her anger vanished. He spared her blushes, however, by saying, ‘You couldn’t be more right. If I take Davina into Alston do you think you could finish the drenching on your own?’ and at the old man’s nod, he said to Davina, ‘I’ll get the Rover going. Leave the dishes and powder your nose. Five minutes—and no more, mind,’ and he followed the old shepherd outside.

Since he was perfectly capable of making her go as she was with windblown hair, Davina didn’t waste a minute and she was ready and outside when the Land Rover rolled out of its shed. ‘What was wrong?’ she asked, but Rex ignored her question and said, ‘He doesn’t miss much, does he?’

‘Who doesn’t miss much? I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Davina said crossly, for the Land Rover was going like a bird and half her mind was still occupied with why it hadn’t started for her.

‘Farr, of course. Surely you guessed his remark after lunch was directly at us?’

Davina began to feel hot. ‘But he thinks like the rest of Camshaw that you’re my stepbrother. And in any case,’ she added, his words reminding her of the raking down Rex had given her before the old man, ‘if he didn’t, he can hardly have thought you nurtured any tender thoughts for me after your ticking off this morning.’

‘The gate needs opening,’ Rex replied blandly, and turned amused eyes on her flushed face; with a sniff, Davina got down to open it.

There was silence until they were nearly in Alston when Rex broke it by asking, ‘Still sulking?’

Davina, who had been studiously observing the scenery on her side of the road, turned to glance at his profile, noticing with renewed anger that amusement curled one corner of his mouth.

‘No, I simply had nothing to say,’ she said quietly, then added, ‘Do you mind if I ask you something?’

‘Depends what it is,’ Rex replied cautiously.

‘I wondered if you behaved like this at home. Do your mother and your uncle get the rough edge of your tongue if they step out of line?’

Rex laughed as if he was genuinely amused ‘Trying to worm my family history out of me now, eh?’ to which Davina replied stiffly, ‘Far from it. I simply wondered if you were only gratuitously rude to relations and employees.’

If she had hoped by her words to annoy Rex, she was in for a disappointment. ‘Do you know,’ he said in confidential tones, ‘when we were in Switzerland I’d never have tagged you as a thin-skinned girl, unable to face a bit of bluntness. You struck me there as a “couldn’t care less” type of female. I’m sorry if I was rough with you. I couldn’t imagine where you’d got to, and you could get lost pretty easily on the moor, you know?’

From Rex this speech was tantamount to an apology and Davina’s rage melted away. The precious document was posted, the stores purchased and while Rex went to the hardware shop, she took their washing into a convenient launderette.

He came back to pick her up just as she was folding the last garment into the plastic carrier. ‘There’s a cafe right next door. Care for a cup of tea before we start for Camshaw?’

Davina nodded and they were soon sharing a small table in the window drinking cups of what Rex described as ‘hot sheep-dip’.