Page 32 of Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

‘I would.’

‘You would?’

‘Yeah, I could do with some extra fields for hay this year. And, it’s on the doorstep. It could work for us both. You get some rent in and I get more land to use. I’m more than happy to pay the going rate.’

‘Well, yes, that could work.’ Rachel was surprised, a little stunned in fact. Could it be that easy? Was Tom actually handing her this offer on a plate?

‘Look, just think about it. You’ve got a lot on your mind and you’ll want to talk it over with your mum, of course.’

It almost sounded almost too good to be true. ‘Tom, why are you so good to us?’ The cider really was loosening her tongue now.

‘Hey, I’m just looking out for you and the family, Rachel … any neighbour would in the circumstances.’ A jolt of a memory passed between them then, with a shared look that spoke a thousand words.

‘Hah, not Mr Mac though.’ Rachel broke his gaze and swiftly moved the conversation on. ‘But thanks Tom … you’re a really special friend, you know that.’ Her hand reached to brush his shoulder.

His tone softened. ‘I know what you’ve all been through,’ he said meaningfully. ‘I just want to see you’re okay.’

In the half-light of the pick-up’s cab, Rachel could see his warm smile reach right through to his dark brown eyes. Before she knew it, she’d leaned across, and was now only centimetres from his face. He smelt all fresh, his aftershave cool sea-notes and citrus.

Oh my goodness, what was she doing? Surely, she wasn’t thinking of kissing him? What was up with her? Cider, that was it – she must have drunk far too much of the potent stuff, and all that lusty talk from Eve and Charlotte must be rubbing off on her. Tom was just a friend, a neighbour. Damn, she’d better get out of the pick-up right away before she embarrassed herself any further.

‘Right then.’ She opened the door and made a dash for it, calling out, ‘Thanks for the lift,’ over her shoulder.

‘You’re welcome,’ came Tom’s amused-sounding voice from the open truck window. ‘Night, Rachel.’

‘Night.’ She kept looking forward, making a beeline – well, a slightly wonky beeline – for the farmhouse. Luckily, Mum had left the outside light on for her.

All was quiet and dark as she stepped inside. Maisy and Mum must be in bed asleep. Rachel stood at the kitchen window and saw the headlights swing around in the drive and then the red tail lights as Tom’s truck moved away.

What had just happened there? Or was she making something out of nothing? It was just the excitement of the evening out that had got her, and something about being that close. But it suddenly all felt different … Like something was beginning to shift beneath her feet. Was it empathy, attraction? Hah, she’d never felt like that with Tom … ever. It was bloody disconcerting, whatever it was. Mind you, she reminded herself, she did have a bloodstream full of cider. Alcohol, that was it, warping things all out of proportion. It would seem irrelevant in the morning. Just a neighbour giving her and Eve a lift home. Just Tom.