Page 31 of Winter Wishes at Pennycress Inn

‘Okay.’ Nodding, Scarlett glanced towards Rowan, who nodded in approval.

As Charlie stepped towards the sack of food, the lead of the halter still in his hand, Rowan walked toward it and picked it up. ‘I’ll grab that for you, mate.’

‘Cheers.’ Waiting until they’d all filed through the gate into the farmyard, Charlie closed it again. ‘And thank you both for rescuing this one. I can’t imagine it was easy. Even now, me and Nicola have enough trouble with Claudette when she gets out, so I can imagine it was tricky trying to secure this one who doesn’t know you.’

‘It was…’ Scarlett frowned. What had it been? Terrifying? Freeing? A start to healing her sheep phobia? Hopefully. Maybe. ‘…a new one for me.’

‘Haha, I bet. It’s not every day you’re in a position to bundle a runaway sheep into your van!’ Charlie chuckled.

‘No.’ Scarlett smiled as she followed Charlie and Rowan past the large barns towards the field where Claudette lived. The whole experience had certainly been interesting and a real eye-opener. And not just because she’d had to force herself to manhandle a sheep either. Hanging back a little, she watched as Rowan paused and shifted the large sack in his arms. If it hadn’t been for the fact Rowan had been uncharacteristically quiet since arriving back at the farm, she’d wonder if she’d made the whole kiss scenario up.

21

‘Morning, how did you sleep?’ Turning away from the oven where she’d been warming the pastries, Scarlett put on her brightest grin for the O’Sullivan family as they entered the kitchen. Now she was beginning to get used to what she was supposed to be doing here at Pennycress, she had to admit, she was enjoying the routine of working again. It may have only actually been a few weeks since she’d left Devon’s Wine Bar, but with everything that had happened between then and now, she felt as though she’d been out of the workforce for months, years even.

‘Very well, thank you.’ Mr O’Sullivan, or Bill as he’d insisted Scarlett call him when they’d arrived late yesterday evening, grinned.

‘Yes, very well. In fact, I probably had the best night’s sleep of the year in that bed.’ Zoe turned to her husband. ‘Haven’t I been saying we need a new mattress? Last night’s sleep just proved that.’

‘It sure did. I wonder, do you know the brand of the mattresses you use here?’ Bill glanced across the room as their two young children skipped between the chairs towards the French doors leading out into the garden.

‘Ooh, there’s no more snow,’ the youngest, Finn, complained as he cupped his hands against the glass.

‘I think it’s supposed to snow later. Or that’s what the weather forecast said this morning.’ Scarlett smiled before turning back to Bill and Zoe. ‘I’m not sure, I’m afraid, but I’ll have a look today and let you know.’

‘Thank you, that would be great.’ Zoe smiled warmly.

‘Do you want to find somewhere to sit, and I’ll make the drinks whilst you help yourself to cereal and pastries?’ Glancing back towards the two children, who were now sitting at the table closest to the window and sharing out the pot of crayons Laura and Jackson liked to set out for breakfast, she went on, ‘Oh, it looks as though you’re sitting over there. Would you like tea, coffee, or juice to start off with?’

‘Could we have two apple juices for the kids and a coffee for me, please?’ Zoe looked toward her husband.

‘And a tea for me, thanks.’ Bill turned to his children. ‘Seb, Finn, come and choose your breakfast.’

As the family filled their plates, Scarlett turned towards the kitchen area and hid a yawn. She’d been up at six and it had been a good job she had been as she’d had four guests seated and eating breakfast by half past. Plus the fact she had spent most of the night tossing and turning, thoughts of yesterday’s events whirring in her mind. Filling two glasses with apple juice, Scarlett turned as Nicola walked in.

‘Morning, Scarlett.’ Placing her bag on the table closest to the kitchen area, Nicola then shrugged out of her coat and heaped it on top of her bag. ‘How’s things this morning?’

‘Hi, good thanks. The O’Sullivans are the last of our guests to eat this morning.’ Scarlett put the glasses on a tray before turning to pour coffee from the cafetiere.

‘Wow, what time did everyone else come down? It’s only eight o’clock.’ As soon as Scarlett had finished filling the mugs, Nicola grabbed two more from the mug tree at the back of the work surface and poured.

‘The first lot was just gone six.’ Picking up the tray, Scarlett paused and lowered her voice. ‘I honestly don’t know how people do it. When I’m on holiday, I’m on holiday and early mornings have no good part to play.’

‘Haha, I’m with you there.’ Nicola grinned. ‘Mornings on holiday are for sleeping, not for waking.’

Walking across to the O’Sullivans’ table, Scarlett smiled as she watched the family chattering amongst themselves. The two children were engrossed in completing the complimentary colouring sheets, every so often brushing the flakes of pastry from their drawings as they ate, whilst their parents chatted. Lowering the tray, Scarlett began handing out the drinks. ‘So, have you got any nice plans for the day ahead?’

‘Thank you.’ Zoe took her coffee, immediately wrapping her hands around the mug. ‘Yes, we’re off to the nature reserve this morning so the boys can hopefully run off a little energy before taking a look at Meadowfield’s Christmas market. Our friends went last year and have recommended it. Do you know what it’s like?’

Hugging the now-empty tray to her chest, Scarlett grinned. ‘I’ve not been before, but I have a stall there this afternoon, so I’m hoping it’ll be busy.’

‘You do? What are you selling?’ Zoe looked up at Scarlett.

‘I sell cards, prints, mugs, bunting, cushion covers and the like. All with designs I’ve drawn or painted on.’ Scarlett felt a tinge of unease in the pit of her stomach. As much as she absolutely adored capturing these images and scenes onto canvas or paper or whatever it might be, there was always a part of her that questioned whether she was good enough, whether she should be trying to sell the items she did and whether people actually wanted to buy because they thought they were beautiful or because they felt sorry for her, sitting alone behind her stall. Devon had always been the one to believe in her, to push her forward, to pick her up and encourage her on the days when, much like the craft fair she’d attended with the incident of the teenager smashing the mugs, she didn’t sell much. She hadn’t had that before; her dad and even her friends had always told her to get a ‘real job’, to give up on her dream or else to just view it as a hobby on the side while building a career.

‘Ooh, that sounds lovely. We need some new prints for the dining room back home, don’t we, Bill?’ Zoe angled her mug towards her husband. ‘We’ll have to pop by your stall.’

‘Great. Thank you.’ Scarlett smiled and turned back towards Nicola, her heart jumping in her chest as she realised Nicola was no longer alone and it was Rowan who was standing next to her chatting. Swallowing, she forced herself to continue towards them and plastered a smile across her face as she approached. She and Rowan had agreed to stay friends after all, she couldn’t let the fact she’d spent half the night worrying if she’d just passed up on a good thing with him spoil the friendship they had left. What was done was done, and she was only protecting herself. ‘Hi, Rowan. If you’ve come in the hopes of a good, cooked breakfast, I’m afraid we’re offering pastries instead whilst Laura and Jackson are away.’