Nora brushed a loose strand of hair out of her eyes with the back of her gloved hand, then hoisted the next rock onto the stone wall. Patching the barbed wire fences back home in Iowa now seemed a simple task by comparison.
After much persuasion on Nora’s part, Jack had finally given up insisting he mend the walls himself and showed her how to fix the few crumbling spots. Nora appreciated his help and advice these last six weeks since she’d come to Larksbeck, but she still chaffed at his desire to do everything for her.
She positioned the outer-facing rock into place and stepped back to eye her work. This spot was beginning to look as straight and even as the rest of the dry-stone wall. Shading her eyes, she glanced up at the sun. The July morning was proving to be pleasant and only a few white clouds dotted the sky. Still, she was grateful she’d put on her rubber boots—or “wellies” as Bess had said they were called. Hopefully the sunshine would dry out the mud from the last heavy rainstorm.
Her gaze wandered to the few ewes and their twin lambs grazing on the other side of the green field. In less than two weeks, the farmers would gather their sheep from the fell for shearing. Nora was counting down the days until the event. Though the villagers continued to be friendly to her, she still didn’t feel as though she belonged yet. Surely after the shearing, though, she’d be accepted as one of them and not feel so much like a guest, playacting at being a sheep farmer.
A movement near the gate drew her attention. She looked over to see Jack striding across the field toward her. He, too, had on work gloves and wellies.
“Morning,” she called as he came closer.
He nodded in greeting and studied the stone fence. Nora had a sudden urge to block her work from his scrutinizing gaze. He may be an expert at walling, as he’d informed her, but she didn’t think her efforts paltry either.
“What brings you out here today?” she asked in a friendlier tone than she felt. “Does Bess need something?”
“No. I’m here to help you.”
“Help me?” Nora raised her eyebrows in doubt. Didn’t he really mean do it for her?
Jack rolled his eyes as though he could read her thoughts. “I’ve learned my lesson not to do it for you, though you might want to reconsider. Take these stones here…” To Nora’s disbelief, he stepped around her and removed two of the rocks she’d carefully set into place. “They aren’t going to work this way.”
Nora forced a long breath through her nose as he repositioned the stones and reached down for a third.
“Well, come on,” Jack said, an uncharacteristic note of teasing in his voice. “I told you I’m not going to do it for you. Pick up a rock, lass.”
Nora shook her head with equal amusement and annoyance, but she bent down and hoisted another stone. Jack indicated where to place it. Though she wished she was doing the task alone, she wouldn’t begrudge the extra set of hands—or expertise. Things would go much faster with both of them walling.
After a few minutes of getting in each other’s way, Nora had the idea to form a brigade of sorts. She would pass the stones to Jack and he would situate them properly on the wall. At first he balked at the plan, insisting on doing the lifting. But Nora reminded him that, unlike her, he knew better how and where to place the rocks. Besides, she pointed out, the stones weren’t too heavy. At last, he relented.
They spoke little as they worked, which suited Nora fine. Conversation didn’t come as easily with Jack as it did with Colin. She concentrated on lifting the rocks, placing them into Jack’s hands, then stooping for the next. After a time, her arms and neck grew warm from the exercise. She paused long enough to remove her sweater and place it on another section of the wall. When she turned, she caught Jack staring at her. A blush filled her cheeks and she hurried to hide it by picking up another rock. She wasn’t blind to his lingering gazes, but she felt nothing more than friendship for him. She could only pray he wouldn’t be hurt by her lack of romantic interest in him.
By the time the sun had climbed higher, they were well over halfway done. Nora offered to get them something to eat. While Jack continued to work, she went inside and gathered food for a lunch outdoors. When she returned to the field, they took their seats on the grass, their backs against the stone wall.
“It’s a lovely day,” Nora said, shutting her eyes and turning her face toward the sun’s rays. She actually felt warmed through today, something she hadn’t experienced in weeks. The cool, wet weather always seemed to penetrate straight through her clothes, chilling her even during the day.
Jack grunted in agreement. So much for starting a conversation.
“Tell me more about the shearing.” Nora opened her eyes and took another bite of her sandwich.
“All of the farmers around Larksbeck spend the week going to each other’s farms to shear the sheep. There’ll be a competition for the fastest shearer. I won last year and two years in a row before I left for France.” His blue eyes lit up as he spoke. “All the mums and daughters cook up a real nice spread of food at each farm. Then when all the sheep have been sheared, there’s a dance in the village. If the weather holds, it’ll be outside. If it rains, we’ll squeeze into the Blea Crown.”
“It sounds exciting. I’m very much looking forward to it.”
Jack studied his sandwich. “Will you save me a dance that night?”
The morsel of food in Nora’s mouth felt suddenly too large. She swallowed hard. Though she didn’t wish to give him false hope, she could at least accept his offer of a dance. “I’d be honored to dance with the reigning shearing champion.”
“I’m a wrestling champion, too, mind you,” he added before digging into his sandwich again.
Nora nearly choked with laughter. Jack was a hard worker but not very modest about his skills. Once they’d finished their meal, she took the leftover lunch things into the kitchen, then returned to the field to help Jack. The sun began slipping behind gray clouds by the late afternoon and soon disappeared altogether. Nora put on her sweater once more.
She guessed the time to be three or four o’clock when Jack secured the last rock into place. Together they stood back to view their handiwork. A deep feeling of pride filled Nora at seeing the tidy, perfectly flush stone wall.
“Now that’s walling done right.” Jack removed his cap and ran a hand through his wavy red hair.
“It looks perfect.” She smiled up at him.
“Glad I came to help you then?”
“Very much.” And she meant it. “Why don’t you come in and I’ll make you a nice cup of tea.”
“You’re sounding more British every day.”
Nora laughed at the compliment and did her best to ignore the appraising look on Jack’s face. They headed across the field at the same time a familiar figure walked around the corner of the cottage.
“Colin.” Nora lifted her hand to catch his attention. She sensed more than saw Jack stiffen beside her. The two men had barely acknowledged each other in public since the awkward moment weeks ago when Jack had entered her kitchen to find Colin standing there without his shirt on.
Colin waved back, though he remained by the cottage instead of entering the field. Nora noticed he carried something brown and moving in his arms. He’d been coming over several times a week with Perseus so the three of them could go for walks, but to her disappointment, she didn’t see the dog around today. Even if Perseus wasn’t hers exactly, she felt as if she still owned a dog with how much she saw of him.
Opening the gate, she let herself and Jack out of the field. “Where’s Perseus?” she asked as she secured the gate.
“I left him home,” Colin answered, “but I brought another friend along.” He hoisted the wriggling bundle in his arms. It was a puppy.
“What a darling.” Nora removed her gloves and hurried over to rub the puppy’s head and ears. It playfully licked her hand. “Where did you get it?”
“Mr. Green’s dog had pups a couple of months ago.” Colin leaned over the puppy to add in a low voice, “I believe our Perseus is the sire.”
Nora chuckled. “Is that so?” She ruffled the puppy’s ears. “That’s a lot to live up to, little one, when you have a father like that.”
“I’m sure you’ll teach her all she needs to know.” Colin transferred the puppy into Nora’s arms. The little dog began covering her chin with slobbery kisses.
“What do you mean?”
A mischievous smile lifted the corners of Colin’s mouth, making Nora’s stomach flutter despite the many times she’d told herself they were only friends. “She’s yours, Nora.” He tucked his hands into their customary spot inside his pockets. “I know you miss Oscar, so when I heard Green was ready to find homes for the puppies, I picked one out for you.”
Nora stared into the big brown eyes of the dog. The puppy was hers to keep? So many nights she’d woken up and reached out to rub Oscar’s fur, only to remember he was back in Iowa with Tom’s family.
Colin shifted his weight. “If you’d rather pick one out yourself…”
On impulse, she went up on tiptoe to press a quick kiss to his cheek. His bristled jaw smelled nicely of soap and spice. “She’s perfect, Colin. Thank you…thank you so much.”
Embarrassed to meet his eye, she hid her face by nuzzling the puppy’s soft fur with her nose. “Let’s take her inside. You can come, too, Jack,” she called over her shoulder. “I did promise tea.”
Colin moved beside her as she carried the puppy through the back door of the cottage. “We’ll get you some water and us some tea,” she informed the dog as she set down her gloves and pulled a bowl from the cupboard. She filled the dish with water from the sink and placed it on the floor.
Upon release, the puppy lapped up the water with its tiny pink tongue. Memories of Oscar as a puppy filled Nora’s mind and brought the sting of happy tears to her eyes.
“Green said his wife has already house-trained the dogs, so the pup shouldn’t be any trouble in that regard.” Colin took a seat at the table. “You might want to keep her on a leash, though, or tied up when you go outside, to keep her from wandering off. At least for a few more weeks.” He leaned back in his chair. “Now what will you call her?”
Nora considered the possibilities as she filled a kettle and placed it on the stove. The puppy had finished drinking and was now sniffing at Colin’s shoes beneath the table. “I doubt I’m as knowledgeable about Greek mythology as your brother, but I recall hearing a story once about a female warrior named Phoebe.”
As though she understood her namesake, Phoebe dropped her head to the floor, stuck her bottom in the air, and began growling at the broom. Colin chuckled. “I think for a daughter of Perseus, Phoebe will do nicely.”
“Phoebe it is then.” Nora went to the cupboard and pulled out three teacups. “Do you still want tea, Ja—” She twisted around, realizing Jack hadn’t followed her and Colin inside. She peered out the window, but the yard stood empty. “I wonder where Jack went.”
“Probably home. What were the two of you working on?”
“Walling.” She put the extra cup away and removed two saucers. “Without his help, I wouldn’t have finished it today. I need to thank him when I see him again.”
“Did he happen to mention he’s our current shearing champion?” The innocent question held a note of concealed laughter.
Nora was grateful she had her back to Colin so he couldn’t see the smile he provoked. Schooling her expression, she carried the dishes to the table and sat down. “Be nice.”
Colin lifted his hands in mock surrender. “It’s the honest truth. Everyone around here knows it, most of all Jack. He’s a shearing and wrestling champion.” He grinned at her, as though he’d somehow overheard Jack’s boasting.
“And what are you the champion of, Colin?” she shot back in Jack’s defense.
The merriment on his face faded at once, making Nora wish she’d hadn’t asked the question. “Ah.” He picked at a knot in the table, his brow furrowed. “That is the real tragedy. Unlike Jack or Christian, I am not a champion of anything.”
Compassion for him tugged at Nora’s heart. Unable to resist its pull, she reached out and covered his hand with hers. “You’re wrong, Colin. You’re a champion of thoughtfulness.” She motioned to Phoebe, who’d curled up by the back door. “Also in laughter, in manners, and in making me feel more at home here than almost anyone else—even on that first day.”
The black of Colin’s eyes had deepened as he listened. Nora’s cheeks warmed under his silent examination of her face, and unseen energy filled the room. She’d felt this same electrifying feeling, seen that same look of desire on Tom’s face, when he’d kissed her on her sixteenth birthday under the oak tree.
Was it wrong of her to feel this pull of attraction toward Colin, even when Tom had been dead for more than two years? She still felt as though she were dishonoring his memory and the love they’d shared from their youth by her friendship with Colin.
Besides, how well did she even know this man seated across from her? During their time together—on walks, at choir rehearsal, or after church services—she most often encountered the good-humored, carefree Colin. The one who hid his true self behind a ready grin or cynical rhetoric. There were times, though, when he allowed her glimpses into his heart. She cherished those moments, and yet she feared peering too closely, afraid of what she might find about herself there.
Colin could never pursue a romantic attachment with her, not as an heir to Elmthwaite Hall and his father’s title. Opening her heart to him would only land her right back where she’d been when she lost Tom—heartbroken and alone.
The hiss of the kettle rescued her from her convoluted thoughts and kept her from dwelling on what Colin’s intense gaze might mean or why the touch of his hand under hers felt so right and comforting. Nora jumped up, nearly upsetting her chair in her hurry. Ignoring a chuckle from Colin, she busied herself with pouring the steaming liquid and placing a single tea bag into each cup.
By the time the tea was ready, Colin was well into describing his most recent flight in his aeroplane, and the atmosphere in the warm kitchen had returned to normal. Nora sipped her tea as she listened, her glance continually wandering to Phoebe where she slept by the back door. How wonderful to have a dog nearby again. A feeling of contentment washed over her, and for the first time since coming to Larksbeck, she felt a sense of home.
* * *
An insistent yelp jerked Nora from sleep. She shot up in bed, her heart beating fast. What was wrong? Another yap followed by a scratch oriented her in the semidarkness.
“What is it, Phoebe?” Nora swung her legs over the side of the bed and patted on bare feet to the door, where Phoebe sat. “Do you need to go out?”
The dog barked. With a sigh, Nora opened the door and followed Phoebe down the stairs to the kitchen. She’d forgotten how much work a puppy—even a house-trained one—could be. Still she was more than grateful for the companionship.
She pulled her sweater from its peg and opened the door a few inches before turning to collect Phoebe’s leash. In those few seconds, the dog wriggled through the opening and out into the night before Nora could stop her.
“Phoebe!” Nora raced into the shadowed yard. The cold, damp air swirled around her bare ankles and calves and made her shiver. Her pulse pounded fast and hard in her ears at the thought of losing the puppy after only half a day with her. “Phoebe? Where are you?”
Nora searched the flowers near the cottage, repeating her call for the dog, but it was as if Phoebe had vanished. The only noises were the milling about of the ewes and their lambs in the field. Worry and regret twisted Nora’s stomach as she moved farther away from the house to hunt for the lost dog.
Several long, agonizing minutes passed before Nora heard the faint noise of Phoebe’s whining. Relief coursed through her at the sound. The dog had to be close. Nora walked to the stone fence bordering the field and paused to listen. Phoebe’s whines sounded louder.
Nora peered over the fence, but she couldn’t see anything among the dark shadows. Dropping to her knees in the wet grass, she ran her hand along the rough stones near the bottom of the fence. She advanced slowly down the fence line until her fingers brushed soft fur.
“Phoebe, you naughty dog,” she scolded.
Using her hands more than her sight, Nora determined the puppy had tried to climb through a hole in the fence, but the opening on the opposite end wasn’t large enough to accommodate even her small body. The hole would need to be patched in the morning, to keep mischievous puppies out and little lambs in.
Nora felt around the hole a second time, trying to determine the best way to extract her puppy from the fence. Beneath Phoebe’s feet her fingers brushed something smooth and metallic, rather than rough stone. What was the dog standing on?
“All right, girl, I’m going to help you out of there,” Nora crooned as she gently pushed Phoebe into a lying position. With one hand on the dog’s back and the other near Phoebe’s rump, she carefully removed the puppy from the fence. Free at last, Phoebe scrambled up from Nora’s lap to lick her chin. Nora chuckled and embraced the squirming pup.
“Let’s not do that again, please.” She wrapped a firm hand around the dog to keep her in place, then she reached into the hole for the metal object. After several twists, Nora pulled out a box. “I wonder what’s inside,” she murmured as she carried both the puppy and the box into the house.
Nora set the box on the table and secured the door before releasing Phoebe to the floor. “I hope you did your business before you got stuck because you aren’t going back outside tonight.”
The dog circled once, then flopped down beneath the table and shut her eyes, clearly exhausted by her little adventure.
A yawn escaped Nora’s mouth as she hung up her sweater, but she wasn’t sure she’d be able to fall asleep yet. Adrenaline over possibly losing the dog had fully awakened her.
After lighting a lamp, Nora sat down in one of the kitchen chairs and examined the metal box. “Should we see what we’ve got here, Phoebe?”
Nora wiped the dirt from the lid with the side of her hand, revealing gold lettering and a picture of some sort. The box had likely been a cracker or biscuit tin at some point. So why would someone stow it away in the fence?
A mixture of curiosity and nerves had her holding her breath as she pushed the lid open an inch or two. Nothing jumped out and no foul smell tainted the air. Nora released her breath and opened the tin all the way. Dried flowers and pieces of lace and material sat atop a green leather-bound book.
She brushed aside the bits of material and crumbling petals to lift out the book. As she ran her fingers over the soft leather, her heart raced with sudden hope. Had she finally found something that belonged to Eleanor? The hairs on the back of her neck rose and Nora shivered. She’d searched the whole cottage for a diary of some sort, but she hadn’t found anything of real interest beyond some old clothes and toys in the attic. Would she be disappointed once more?
“Only one way to find out.”
She opened the cover and her breath snagged in her throat. Written on the cover page in faded but neat penmanship were the words: This diary is the sole property of Eleanor Lewis. The name Galbert was written on the line below.
“Oh, Phoebe. You, wonderful, wonderful dog.” She knelt beside the puppy and stroked her silky fur. “All is forgiven.”
Nora stood and collected the lamp and book. “Come on, Phoebe. Let’s go back up to bed.”
The dog followed her out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Nora set the lamp on the bedside table in her room and helped Phoebe onto the foot of the bed. The puppy nestled into the quilt and closed her eyes again. Nora climbed into bed, but she knew sleep was even further off than before. She had to read a little of the diary first.
Settling back against her pillow, she opened the book. A thrill of anticipation shot through her as she read the first two sentences of the first entry: My name is Eleanor Lewis. I’m sixteen years old today and I’m in love.