Larkrigg Fell (24 page)

Beth chuckled and kissed him on his brow, acutely aware of Andrew moving around her, slicing bread, laying plates out A rough and ready meal for three lone men. ‘No, you old rogue, I’ll pass, thanks. But it’s obviously doing you a power of good. I’m off now, take care. Thanks for the advice.’ This last to Andrew, with an ironic twitch of her brow.

‘Aye,’ he said and when she walked to the back door, he followed her. The sight which met their eyes when he opened it left them both bereft of words for a whole half minute. She had been in the house for no more than a couple of hours, Andrew half that time, yet the open fell was now covered in a thick coating of snow. More flakes were falling even as they stared. Soft and silent, blown by a cruel east wind.

Andrew said, ‘You’d best get a move on or you’ll get stuck. D’you want me to see you home?’ Offered hesitantly, she noticed, and with obvious reluctance.

‘No thanks, I’ll be fine.’

‘I don’t mind.’

She longed to accept, but stubbornness wouldn’t allow her to do so. He hadn’t offered one drop of courtesy this morning, let alone the advice she’d asked for, and all because of her mistake in mentioning Tessa. It wasn’t her fault if Tess had left him for Jonty. It didn’t give him the right to pick her life apart.

The sky was grey and lowering, heavy with snow, not pretty as a Christmas card as it was supposed to look at this time of year, but she could manage very well. As she stepped out, her boots sank two inches or more through the crisp layer. ‘I’ll be home in no time,’ she said, trying not to show her fear. Snowflakes crowded her head and face, settling in seconds on her snug coat.

For the first time that afternoon Andrew seemed to show genuine concern. ‘Watch where you’re walking. It’s easy to get lost. It could turn into a blizzard.’ Then as if having finally convinced himself of a genuine emergency he reached for his coat and started to tug on his own boots. ‘I’m coming with you.’

‘There’s really no need, I can manage perfectly well on my own, thank you very much.’ She was startled by the quick flash of fury in his eyes as their gazes locked.

‘You could fall in a snow drift.’

‘I won’t.’ She was appalled to find tears choking her throat. ‘I know the way and I’ll keep to the track. I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone.’ And she stomped off, determined to show she was her own woman.

‘Suit yourself,’ he yelled after her. ‘Don’t send for me then if you fall in a ditch.’

‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’

‘Good.’

And she heard the door slam shut.

‘Damnation.’ Andrew stared out of the window at the gathering swirl of snow. There was going to be
a
blizzard, no doubt about it. What the hell had he been thinking of letting her go off like that? Why did women have to be so damned stubborn? He must be out of his mind.

Was it her fault if she fell
in
love with the wrong chap? Happen if he’d spoken up sooner about his own feelings, she might have looked at him different. Instead of which she had it fixed in her daft head that it was Tessa he fancied.

He watched her small figure quickly being swallowed up by the whiteout and came to a swift decision. Wrong words between them or not, he had to make sure she was all right. He could follow her at least. Keep his distance but see she got home safe. He began to tug on his big wellington boots and reach for his waterproof. His dog was at his heels in seconds.

It was a matter of moments to explain the situation to Seth, even so by the time he set out the snow was already forming ramps against the dry-stone walls, sculpted by the wind into strange formations. He couldn’t see the sky, could see little beyond the bouncing, swirling flakes and a few feet in front of him. His boots sank deeper with every step. At least it wasn’t freezing. Yet.

Andrew struggled to keep a brisk pace, his eyes searching for a bright spot of colour which would tell him she was on course for Larkrigg. But as he trudged onward, sweating slightly beneath his waterproof he saw no such reassuring sign. He swept his gaze wider, in case she had wandered off track.

He remembered an accident the previous winter when two girls had set off to walk
a
very short distance over Coppergill Pass to the dale below, on a crisp winter day with a blue sky and sun beaming upon them. It had seemed safe enough but they had stepped on to a drift of snow that had given way and dropped them into eternity. Nothing could be trusted in weather like this.

‘Seek, Toby.’

He could kick himself a million times over for not stopping her from setting out alone. Why hadn’t he insisted on going with her? He would never be able to live with himself if anything happened to Beth.

He stopped, the snowflakes crowding him, turning his face and shoulders to that of a snowman. He loved her so much. Why couldn’t she see that?

If she wasn’t as sweet and innocent as she appeared, and how could she be with the way she’d been hot for Reynolds and was now living with that Italian lout in a manner he’d sooner not think of, he still loved her. He couldn’t help himself.

Andrew quickened his pace and started to call her name, panic in his voice.

The journey home was a nightmare. Several times Beth almost panicked as she felt sure she had wandered from the track, which had been quickly swallowed up by the billowing snow. She felt utterly alone in the world, blanketed by the silent snow melting on her cheeks to slide down her neck and make her colder than ever. Her gloves and knees were already soaking from the number of times she had slipped and fallen. Pads of it had slid inside her boots and she could barely feel her toes. Somewhere ahead was the comfort of Larkrigg and she must concentrate on where to put the next foot, only too aware there were parts of this landscape which dropped precipitously away, where she could slide down into a crevasse and never be seen again.

Why had she been so stubborn? Why hadn’t she let Andrew walk her home? Why had they quarrelled in the first place? What she wouldn’t give now for the sight of his smiling face?

The snow seemed to get deeper and deeper, far quicker than she had imagined it would, slowing her with every step. The guiding lines of the dry-stone walls had disappeared in a blur of white. She stopped to catch her breath and look about her, realising with a dreadful certainty that she was lost. Nothing but virgin whiteness met her eyes. No landmarks, no hills, not even a fox’s footprint to follow.

She must find shelter. A dry-stone wall to hide behind, dig herself a cave in the drifting snow. She tried not to think of all the dozens of sheep who sought the same kind of shelter every winter and perished in it. What alternative did she have?

Beth knew she was sobbing because she could feel her hot tears on her frozen cheeks. By nightfall the temperature would be well below freezing. She must keep moving. Doggedly she pulled one foot out of the deep snow and then the other, her breathing growing more laboured with each step. Her legs buckled beneath her and she collapsed in the snow, too tired now even to cry. She would rest for a moment. Gather her strength to carry on.

She must be hallucinating. Someone was calling her name. Was it Sarah? No, not Sarah. Pietro?

‘Beth. Beth!’

There it was again but she really couldn’t find the energy to call back. Why were they disturbing her? Somehow her soft bed no longer felt as warm and cosy as it should, even so she couldn’t somehow raise the energy to leave it.

A warm breath on her cheek, a wet nose against hers. Someone was licking her face. A dog? In her bed? Reality returned to her in a rush. The blank whiteout, the freezing cold snow piling fatally upon her. And a dog’s excited nose snuffling into her cheek. She’d never been so pleased to be so comprehensively licked in all her life.

‘Hello, boy. Am I glad to see you,’ she managed, voice weak and cracked with fatigue.

A dark figure bearing down upon her, lifting her to her feet, strong arms holding her, the rasp of a warm cheek against hers. Thank God, it wasn’t a mirage. She could hardly believe her good fortune. She was safe.

‘Andrew?’

‘Don’t worry, my love. You’ll be all right now.’

And she knew that she would be.
She
leaned against him, clung to his solid form. ‘Oh, Andrew, I thought I was done for. I’m so sorry for being stubborn.’

‘Don’t talk. Save your breath for walking. You’re way off course. You can thank Toby here for finding you.’

‘Thanks Toby.’ She rubbed the dog’s head and it barked a joyous welcome, pleased by his own cleverness.

Andrew half carried her the rest of the way, and even that was a strain. She really had been well off track.

Then suddenly a rectangle of light was spilling out on the ground and she knew she was home. A figure stood in the doorway, dark against the light.

‘Who is it?’

‘Beth. Got lost in the snow.’

‘I’ll take her now.’

‘Let me at least bring her inside.’

‘No, you can leave her with me.’

A second pair of arms were taking possession of her and she whimpered at being deprived of the warm safety of her rescuer, but really she was beyond protest. She turned to thank Andrew,
to invite him in for a warming drink but the door was closing and she couldn’t seem to stop herself from collapsing in Pietro’s arms.

Much later as she lay at last in the safety of her warm bed, she held a vision in her mind of stunned disbelief on Andrew’s face. She thought she would remember the agony in it for as long as she lived.

By morning Beth woke feeling half way human again. She went to the window and found the weather was worse, the snow raging across the fells, blotting out everything. Did Andrew get home safely? She must find out.

She showered and dressed as quickly as she could and ran downstairs. Pietro and Sarah were at the stove, giggling over some joke and cooking bacon and eggs. They both turned to smile at her. ‘You look better.’

‘Silly Beth, in trouble again.’

‘Thank you, sister dear, for those few kind words. Have you heard from Andrew? Did he get home OK?’

‘I am sure he must have or we would have heard,’ Pietro said with a shrug, breaking two eggs into the pan.

‘You didn’t leave him outside yesterday when I collapsed, did you?’

‘Do not fret, little one. You were the important one.’

‘But you could at least have given him a hot drink.’

‘He would not have wished to intrude.’

No, Beth thought, he probably wouldn’t.

‘Whatever possessed you to go out in such dreadful weather?’ Sarah asked. ‘Are you absolutely loopy?’

‘It wasn’t snowing when I set off.’

Pietro snorted with derision. ‘That man should not have let you try to come home alone. He is, as I said, a peasant, a fool.’

Beth swallowed, feeling guilty over her refusal to accept Andrew’s guidance. ‘It wasn’t his fault.’ But Pietro wasn’t listening. He expertly flicked the eggs over and reached for the plates.

‘I think he want for to cause trouble for you, for us all. I never like the man.’

‘And you missed all the hard work yesterday,’ Sarah put in, in her most complaining voice. ‘We spent hours in the woodshed sawing
those damned logs, didn’t we, Pietro? You can do your own logging next time.’

Beth forebore to mention that she’d done her share over the last weeks, and chopping logs was nowhere near as horrible as being lost in a snow drift. ‘You shouldn’t pile them so high in the grate, then we wouldn’t use so many.’

‘Skinflint,’ Sarah retorted.

‘Someone has to count the pennies.’

‘Nag, nag, nag. You’re no fun any more, Beth.’

Beth nibbled on her lip. She felt far too weary for another battle right now.

There was no hope of them going anywhere that day, let alone to check on Andrew at Cathra Crag. The wind battered against the windows, piling the snow right up to the sills. The roof creaked ominously and it took every ounce of Beth’s energy to plough through the huge drifts to check on the poor hens and geese and replace their frozen feed and water. They were all snow-bound, in a siege against the weather.

Something had woken her. Beth opened her eyes in the darkness of her bedroom, wondering what it could have been. Was it the wind? It came again, a terrible grinding and creaking, and then an enormous crash. She was out of bed like a shot, reaching for her dressing gown. The barn must have fallen down, or perhaps there were intruders.