Shadow on the Fells (17 page)

“How could I ever forget?” growled Will.

“No one but you could have got him off...and the headlines after Criminal Lawyer or Just Plain Criminal were priceless.”

“And your point is?” Will's throat tightened as all the reasons for him turning his back on his career flooded his mind.

“The guy who took the blame has appealed and we have new evidence that might get him off. Can't you see, Will?” pleaded Roy. “This is your chance...your chance to make amends...to at least make sure that justice is finally done. Rightly or wrongly Tom Crawford walked free—thanks to you, remember—but at least now you can help the man who was wrongly accused of his crime. That should help appease your conscience, surely.”

Will's voice was strained. “You mean it's your chance to try and persuade me back to work,” he said. “Well, you'll have to get someone else to do it. I have enough on my plate.”

“Like what?”

A smile found its way through Will's anger. He felt safe here, safe from the mess of his former life. Fell country might be dangerous, but that was nothing compared to the damage that life had done to him.

“I'm training my dog,” he said, and the phone went dead. Had Roy hung up on him? He checked the screen and saw that the signal had been dropped. Will almost felt sorry not to be able to hear Roy's shocked reply.

Imagining the expression on his ex-boss's face lightened his spirit, but when his phone rang again and Roy's name flashed across it, he almost declined the call. However, he couldn't resist hearing his former boss's reaction to the dog training.

“Sorry,” he said, “I lost you. Reception's not so good around here.”

“Did you say you're training your dog?” asked Roy.

“Certainly did...although, to be honest, I need the training as much as he does. It's costing me a fortune.”

“All the more reason to come back and do some work for Marcus Finch,” Roy suggested.

Will's response was immediate. “I already told you how I feel about that.”

“Well, at least come back for the dinner next month—you know, our annual bash at the Hilton. You've always enjoyed that, and I promise I won't even mention work.”

About to give a determined no, Will held back as an idea came into his head. What if he invited Chrissie? Being with her might make them see just how settled he was in his new life and hopefully accept his decision to stay here. He cringed. Was he so short of self-confidence these days that he still needed to prove himself to the likes of Roy? No matter how ashamed he sometimes felt about the way he'd walked away from Marcus Finch, he knew that leaving had been the right thing to do.

“Do I get to bring someone?” he asked.

“Of course.” Roy laughed. “Don't tell me...a farmer?”

“A sheep farmer, actually.”

“It will certainly make a change from the string of would-be models and film stars that usually accompany you.”

He clicked off the phone, asking himself what had possessed him to suggest taking Chrissie to the Marcus Finch annual dinner, to which were invited prestigious clients, lawyers and their partners. After dinner, Roy always gave a speech about the successes of the previous year and then usually a famous singer would perform, with dancing later. To even think that Chrissie would agree to go was ridiculous; she wouldn't know what to wear, and he wouldn't be able to stand all his ex-associates looking down their noses at her. But why should they? Chrissie Marsh was a gorgeous, confident woman. If they did sneer at her, she could stand her ground. She was very much a part of his life now, and he realized that he would be proud to have her at his side.

And that realization scared him.

* * *

T
HE
NEXT
DAY
, while he was driving to Bracken Hall with Max after calling in on Roger to discuss the plans, a new idea came into Will's head.

It was just the beginning of an idea, a different slant on his original plans that might be more acceptable to Chrissie and help the Lake District, too. But before he could dig deeper into its implications, he reached his destination. He logged the idea in the back of his mind and turned his attention to Max.

He wanted to show Chrissie that he really was taking his “homework” seriously and he had already spent a full hour that morning getting the dog to sit and lie down and stay. He was proud of his results; it was rewarding to be building a stronger bond with the dog he had bought so impulsively.

Will reflected on how he, who had always been a man to act deliberately, with great thought and planning, had for the very first time in his life made two huge, spontaneous decisions in a very short time: the decision to buy Craig Side and, shortly afterward, the decision to buy a dog.

Sometimes it felt as if someone else's brain had been transplanted into his head, except if that was the case, he wouldn't still have his childhood memories...or the guilt he felt whenever he thought of his parents. Too many phone calls in the past ten years, asking him when he was coming to see them...too many times when he didn't go.

After his dad had retired from his driving job in Penrith, they'd moved to Spain to live out their lives in the sunshine, and now he only spoke to them once a month or so.

A heavy sadness replaced his sense of well-being as he realized just how selfish he had been, how vain and arrogant with his high-flying job and upmarket friends. Here, where people's values were so very different, he was slowly coming to see what really mattered in life.

“What do you think, boy?” he asked, and Max placed his paws on the back of Will's seat, planting big, sloppy kisses on Will's nape.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

C
HRISSIE
WAS
FEEDING
the chickens when she heard a four-by-four coming up the lane. Recognizing the sound of Will's vehicle, she carefully closed the shed door and headed for the yard with a basket of smooth brown eggs over her arm and the dogs at her heels. She made an effort not to hurry. The fact that his arrival brought a flutter of anticipation irritated her.

Instead of the usual showers, April had brought glorious sunshine for once, and she shaded her eyes with her free arm to see Will climbing out of the driver's seat. Max raced across to greet her like an old friend, and she put down her egg basket so she could crouch down to make a fuss of him, glad of the opportunity to avoid talking to Will. What was wrong with her? No one had ever made her feel so awkward. Perhaps it was guilt over objecting to his plans while she was taking his money.

“Well!” he announced with a broad grin. “We've been doing our homework.”

She stood up slowly, forcing herself to meet his gaze with a cool expression. “And is it going well?”

“Very well,” he said. “I think.”

He looked like the cat that got all the cream. “Well you certainly seem pleased with yourself,” she remarked. “I'll just take these eggs into the house and then you can show me how well you've progressed.”

“Everything you've taught me is beginning to make sense,” he told her, his tone high with excitement as he fell into step beside her.

Well, maybe not the cat that got the cream, she thought, but maybe an overexuberant schoolboy. He certainly was a man of many faces, and this was the one she was most drawn to. He glanced sideways at her, smiling, and on impulse she took his hand. “I like this side of you, Will. Carefree and happy.”

“Why?” he asked. “Am I usually too serious?”

“Sometimes...” Heat crept into her cheeks and she let go of his hand, embarrassed by her spontaneity.

“This place has changed me, you know, Chrissie,” he said, his voice quiet but so intense that it made Chrissie's heart race. Gone, she realized, was the laughing schoolboy. “
You
have changed me.”

“For the better, I hope.” She laughed, trying to lighten the moment. “I'll just put these eggs away and then you can show me exactly how much you and Max have progressed.”

* * *

W
ILL
WAITED
OUTSIDE
in the sunshine while Chrissie took the eggs into the house. He sat on a low wall with Max, Tess and Fly at his feet, feeling as if he was in charge of the world as he gazed out across the valley.

The spring sunshine had brought freshness and new life to the fells. The shades of vibrant green at their feet were slowly spreading upward to meet the stark grays and browns of the higher ground where winter still lurked, unwilling to let go quite yet. Spring was chasing it away though, he noted, for patches of golden daffodils were visible everywhere, little bursts of sunshine from the earth itself.

“Right, then,” came Chrissie's voice from behind him. “Shall we have the demonstration?”

He jumped up enthusiastically. “You just sit down here,” he said. “And I'll begin.”

As Chrissie chose a comfortable place to sit, Tess and Fly trotted after her, and Max made to follow them.

“Stay,” ordered Will. The dog ignored him, and Will didn't fail to notice Chrissie biting her lip to suppress a smile.

“Max,” he repeated, trying not to sound desperate. “Stay!”

Max wavered between his master's command and running off to see his sheepdog friends. Heat flared in Will's face.

“Here, boy!” It was a plea now rather than an order.

Will held his breath. This was so important to him. Chrissie's opinion of him mattered. For a moment it felt as if the whole world had stopped, and then, making up his mind, Max turned and headed back to Will, sitting at his feet, keen eyes watching his every move. Will glanced at Chrissie, and when she smiled encouragingly he knew the red in his cheeks was deepening, but for a different reason now. Walking backward, he held up his hand, palm forward.

“Stay, boy. Stay...”

Max sat, quivering in anticipation of the treat in Will's pocket. Will felt a rush of pride. He'd really done it. He took a final step, then all of a sudden, Max bounded toward him. He held up his hand, desperately trying to remember everything Chrissie had taught him.

“Sit down, Max,” he said. “Sit down.” The dog continued to ignore him, bounding this way and that. Will stood still, ignoring him back, and when the treat did not appear Max stopped, whining softly.

“Sit down,” Will repeated, and when Max obeyed, he was quick to praise, giving him the treat.

“Now do the stay again,” called Chrissie. “Repetition, remember, and no backing down.”

Will did the stay procedure again, not backing quite so far away this time. When Max waited, coming to Will's call like a pro, he glanced at Chrissie and pumped his fist in the air.

“Who would have thought that such a big-time criminal lawyer could be so easily pleased by getting a dog to sit and stay,” she called, laughing.

“He could have done it the first time,” grumbled Will.

“Patience and perseverance,” she told him. “That's the key. It's character building...for you, I mean. Now, let's go up to the meadow and see if yesterday's lesson with the sheep has stuck.”

Will followed Chrissie around for the next twenty minutes or so, getting Max to sit and stay, again and again, as she checked on the sheep.

“Look how strong the single lambs are,” she said proudly, stopping to survey the scene. “It's almost time to let them back up the fell. The twins will need a bit longer, of course.”

“But they're so small,” Will remarked, watching the lambs run in groups up the hill and back, tails wagging madly as they played the age-old game.

Chrissie nodded. “They are full of life, though—that's the key. I've been watching lambs play like that every year for my entire life. No one teaches them and they always use that same rock. Chase Me Charlie and King of the Castle, I call it.”

“You're a very strange woman, Chrissie Marsh,” Will said.

“I prefer ‘different.'” She pushed back a strand of blond hair and tucked it neatly behind her ear in a way that was becoming achingly familiar to him.

For a moment he just watched her, standing against the glorious magnificence of the landscape, as much a part of this place as the fells themselves and equally glorious and magnificent as she stood tall and proud with her head raised high. She looked back at him, her blue eyes warm with sunshine.

“And do you know that you are a bit odd, too, Will Devlin? At least I know who I am. Come on, time to unclip the leash.”

When Will hesitated, she moved forward and unclipped it for him. “Have confidence,” she said. “You'll see.”

It was well after five by the time they arrived back at the farmhouse after seeing to all the animals.

Chrissie beckoned him in as she kicked off her boots on the porch. “The least I can do is to make you a cuppa after all the help you've given me,” she said.

When Will began painstakingly trying to pull off his wellies, she laughed.

“Let go of yourself, Will, and just kick them off into the corner.”

Will did so with a sense of release, and laughing out loud together, they went into the warmth of the kitchen.

“You may as well have something to eat,” Chrissie said as she brewed a pot of tea. “Unless you're going out to dinner or something... Isn't that what you posh lawyers do, eat out at fancy restaurants?”

“Used to do,” he said. “And for your information, there are no fancy restaurants around here.”

“Scrambled eggs, then?” Chrissie offered, handing him a mug. “I have to use up the eggs somehow.”

Fleetingly, Will's idea from earlier came back into his head, and a new image joined it. Visitors—he preferred the word to
tourists
—collecting their own eggs for breakfast...

“Hello?” Chrissie said, waving her hand in front of his face.

A dull flush crept up Will's neck and he looked away. “Sorry, I must be tired. Scrambled eggs sound great...if you're sure you don't mind.”

“Not at all,” she insisted. “Don't feel that you have to, though.”

Will smiled. “I'm looking forward to it... It would only have been soup or beans at home, anyway. That's all I seem to live on nowadays.”

Chrissie began cooking, and when they tucked into the simple meal, Will reflected on how nice it was, having a meal made for him for a change. This was almost the complete opposite of his life in the city, but he held no longing for the way things used to be.

“Do you miss your city life sometimes?” asked Chrissie, as if reading his mind.

He looked at her in surprise, putting down his knife and fork. “No,” he said. “Not really. I like it here—it feels right. And, as you know, I became totally disillusioned by my career.”

“So you'd never go back?”

“Funnily enough, Roy Wallis, big boss at Marcus Finch where I used to work, has been trying to get me back, but to work with a different clientele. He says it will bring some closure.”

“And do you think it would?”

Will shrugged. “I have what I want here. Peace of mind, a connection with the world around me...and honesty. Soon, I hope, I'll be making a living, too. I know you hate the idea of tourism, but I'll be able to keep an eye on anyone who—”

“We made a deal about not mentioning tourists, remember,” Chrissie said sharply, biting her lip. “What if you took on just enough cases to support yourself, so you didn't have to have tourists?”

“Now who's mentioning tourists?” he teased her, raising his eyebrows. “I have thought about it, though...just to please you, if nothing else. I know how much you hate the idea. But I really don't want to go back to law, even just to work occasionally.” He scratched the back of his head. “By the way, I've been invited to our annual bash in a couple of weeks...why don't you come with me?

Chrissie looked startled. “Me? You're asking me?”

He shrugged. “Why not? You'd enjoy it.”

“No...no, I don't think it would be my kind of thing.”

An amused expression spread across Will's face. “That's what I thought you'd say. You can't always wear jeans, though, you know, Chrissie. Anyway, the offer stands if you change your mind. I don't particularly want to go by myself and I'm sure you'd enjoy it, but if you'd rather not, I understand.”

Chrissie's cheeks reddened. “I suppose you think I'm worried about meeting your important associates,” she said. “That a sheep farmer like me would feel out of her depth. Well, you're wrong.”

“Prove it, then,” said Will, his silvery eyes glittering.

“Fine. You're on.”

“It's not for a couple of weeks so if you change your mind...” he said, knowing the chance to back out would make her all the more determined to go. He loved the way her proud, headstrong expression lit up her face.

She drew herself up to her full height, a haughty tilt to her chin. “Just because I choose to live here, living a life I love, does not mean that I am incapable of mingling with people of...well,
your
kind of people. I have been away from here, you know, and I've been to fancy parties. People really don't impress me with their wealth, importance or auras of success. We are all the same underneath the visual crap. We all have hopes and fears and worries. In fact...”

The flicker of a smile crossed her lips, lending softness to the taut contours of her face. “It was my mum who taught me that. I'd been invited to a charity ball by someone...”

“A man?” asked Will.

She nodded. “More of a boy, really—I was just out of school, and his dad's company was hosting it. Anyway, I was very nervous about it and my mum...my mum always knew how I was feeling.”

Her eyes filled up with a sadness that touched Will's heart; he had never seen her vulnerability before.

“She took both my hands in hers and stared straight into my eyes,” she went on. “‘Chrissie,' she said. ‘Always remember that you are just as good as anyone else you might meet in life. We are all born naked with nothing, each and every one of us. We all have our doubts and our fears, no matter who or what we are, and our times of self-doubt and vulnerability. We all want love in our lives, but we so often get dealt heartache or tragedy, and most of us offer ourselves up to the world in the way we think we should be seen...or the way we want people to perceive us. Always be true to yourself, Chrissie, for you need never be in awe of anyone.'”

Chrissie was silent for a moment, and then a mischievous smile replaced her sadness. “And another thing she told me. ‘Always remember that we all go to the toilet...even the Queen. So when someone is making you feel less than what you really are...just imagine that and smile at your self-doubt.'”

Will squirmed. “So is that what you did when you met me?”

“Why? Do you think you're that daunting?”

“Well...” he began awkwardly.

She met his eyes, smiling. “Several times actually,” she admitted.

He pulled a face. “Whoa...that's way too much information.”

“It's okay,” she said. “I don't need to now.”

“Why is that?”

“I've seen beyond the hotshot lawyer you perceive yourself to be. I've seen you vulnerable and afraid and way out of your depth. I've seen
you
, Will, and you don't scare me anymore.”

This time it was she who leaned across to place her lips on his, with a soft, sweet tenderness that took him totally by surprise. And before he could even react she'd drawn back, clearing the plates away as if nothing had happened.