Page 28 of Christmas at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

‘Oh …’

‘I’ve brought you some lunch.’

‘Oh, Tom, bless you, this is just what I need, I’m ravenous.’

‘Well, your mum said you were keen to get those sheep back in and hadn’t had time to stop for any. And I seem to remember a really lovely girl making the effort to bring me and the lads a picnic that day we were cutting the hay.’

Rachel smiled, remembering that beautiful day in the summer too, when she and Tom were just starting to fall for each other.

‘Now don’t get too excited, mind. It’s not quite up to your standard,’ added Tom swiftly. ‘I had already picked you up a couple of chocolate bars at the local garage when I stopped for fuel earlier.’

A man who thought to buy her chocolate? He’d won her over already.

‘Oh, and your mum’s made you a ham salad sandwich, by the way. Hang on …’ He went to fetch the food from the pickup, also bringing with him two lidded takeaway coffees.

‘Now, that looks good. And chocolate did you say, now you’re really talking. So, what kind is it?’

‘A Dairy Milk and a Crunchie bar.’ Tom pulled them out of his Barbour coat pocket.

‘Yum, and Crunchies are my favourite. How did you know?’

‘I didn’t. It was a calculated guess. They’re one of my favourites too. So, I figured if you didn’t like them, then …’ Tom grinned.

‘Hah, so you had an ulterior motive.’

‘Absolutely.’

‘And there was me thinking you were doing it out of the goodness of your heart.’ Rachel smiled. ‘Okay, well thanks. Did you know you can make a delicious ice-cream dessert with a Crunchie?’

‘No, but I’m sure you as Princess of The Pudding Pantry will enlighten me.’

‘Take a good scoop of quality vanilla ice cream, crush up a Crunchie bar and sprinkle it over the top with a drizzle of toffee or chocolate sauce, whichever is your favourite.’

‘Sound marvellous.’

‘It is. We’ll have to try it one day,’ she said, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. And there she found herself talking of their future. They both smiled.

The grass was slightly damp there in the pasture, so Tom laid down his coat for them to sit on. Late October could be chilly both morning and evening, but on a fine day like today, at midday in a sheltered sunny spot, it was actually very pleasant. She ate her sandwich while Tom chatted about what he had on at his farm for the rest of the week. Rachel sat, looking out across the valley, the grass a fading green. Her sheep and cattle dotted around the hillside were grazing contentedly, the trees down by the stream that meandered through the farm were now turning their autumn bronze, their leaves beginning to fall – the ongoing cycle of the seasons and of nature, of life, were laid out before them.

She paused to take a slow breath before forming her next words and looked up into his dark eyes. ‘Tom … I’m sorry if it seems like I’ve been shutting you out a bit lately. It’s been so hectic and pretty damned crazy here, trying to hold everything together. To be honest, I’m scared that the new Pantry is going to go belly up. That’s why I’ve been frantically putting out posters and flyers and trying to get more publicity and get this club idea off the ground.’

‘Well, I have to admit I have noticed I’m somewhere low down the list of late – but you know what? I’ve always admired your sheer bloody determination.’

Rachel offered him half of the Crunchie bar before continuing. ‘It’s all been a bit overwhelming, and I’ve just been keeping going, head down, pushing on because it’s the only way I know how. It’s what my …’ She paused, feeling the threat of tears. ‘It’s what my dad taught me.’

‘It’s okay, Rach. Look, I’d love to see more of you, but I get it. I get how hard it’s been for you all.’

‘Thank you, Tom.’ A kaleidoscope-whirl of emotion seemed to be swirling inside her.

She leaned in towards him, just as he did the same to her. Tom cupped her chin gently in his hand, drawing her face, her lips to his, in a kiss that was beautiful and tasted of chocolate and honeycomb.

Yes, life at the farm and juggling all that with the Pudding Pantry was pretty overwhelming, but what she hadn’t confessed to Tom was just how overwhelming the thought of handing over her heart again was. In the midst of all the happiness was a nagging fear that it couldn’t last.

11

It was two nights later, in the dark of the early hours, when Rachel awoke with a start. What the hell was that noise? The security light was on in the yard, and Moss had started barking in his kennel at a pitch of high alert. Shit.

Rachel was up and out of bed and at the window in seconds, tugging back the curtain to see what was going on. There was a van, a white transit, parked in the yard with its back doors wide open. Then there was some movement by the tractor shed door. Two figures, in dark clothing and balaclavas, with what looked like wrenches to hand, were trying to force their way in. Moss was now going crazy, barking and growling too.