AFTER WILL LEFT, Chrissie sat at the kitchen table, staring at the check he had insisted on giving her for £2,750. She felt as if she had sold her soul, and in a way, she guessed she had.
No matter, she decided; at least now she could pay for the tractor repairs and have a nice lump left over to see her through until the lambs were sold. All she had to do was train one big, daft labradoodle...oh, yes, and train its big, daft owner, too. That would be the bigger problem, she suspected. Thankfully, she had a week’s grace, for she’d told him she couldn’t start until Floss went back to her owner and lambing time was about done.
To Chrissie’s delight, over the next few days it felt as if the fells had decided to embrace spring and had worked out a deal with the weather. The snowdrops were dying, but daffodils sprang up to replace them in big yellow patches. Even the air smelled different, fresh and aromatic, so many scents mingling into one huge bouquet. If you could bottle it, she thought, you would be a millionaire.
As she walked toward the house after her morning chores, she dallied with the idea, remembering with a smile Will’s suggestion to make the scent of hay a perfume. Then she laughed it all off. Bottle fresh air! Now that would really be a scam.
The phone was ringing as she walked into the cozy warmth of the kitchen with Tess, Fly and Floss at her heels. All three collapsed in front of the stove while she hurried to answer it. To her surprise, Tom Farrah’s pleasant, confident voice filled her ears.
“Chrissie,” he boomed. “How are you?”
“I’m fine...and you?” She tried to keep the apprehension out of her voice. Did he have news about Will’s plans?
“Fine, too, thanks. Now, I can’t get involved, but I did promise to let you know if a planning application for Craig Side came in...and it has. It is only for outline planning at this stage, and it will probably be heard next month, although as it is only the second today they have asked if there is any possibility of it being brought forward. We meet on the last Friday of the month, you see, so it will be over three weeks before this month’s decisions are made.”
Chrissie’s heart sped up. She hadn’t even begun trying to change Will’s mind and already it seemed it was too late for that. She hadn’t expected his application to go in so soon. A heavy lump formed in her chest. “So what exactly does that mean?” she asked.
“Well, he’s applying for outline planning to turn Craig Side farm into tourist accommodation. If he wins, then that’s it. There will be stipulations, though, of course, when he submits the detailed plans...”
“So obviously you think it’s a foregone conclusion that he’ll win?”
Tom didn’t respond right away, and a trickle of anger strengthened Chrissie’s resolve. Will hadn’t won yet; that was the main thing.
“Yes, unless there is some serious opposition,” he said. “I promised to keep you informed, but that is as far as I can go. Once we have looked at an application and any objections there are against it, my colleagues and I will make a decision purely based on the facts put before us. I can say no more than that.”
“Well, thanks for that, Tom.” Chrissie’s tone was heavy and flat as she realized that now she had to face facts. She had agreed to train both Will and his dog, but if he thought their involvement would make her back off with her objections to his planning application, he was so wrong. It occurred to her that the handsome payment had been for just that very reason, to make her think twice...like a bribe. The idea did not sit well.
“I’ll speak to you soon,” she said, dropping the phone into its cradle. The rest of the morning would have to be spent in finalizing her objections and writing them out.
Half an hour later, Chrissie still sat in front of her blank computer screen. She had notes, plenty of them, but putting those notes into writing was a very different matter. Standing abruptly, she pushed back her chair and went into the kitchen to get a coffee. Coffee helped fix a whole heap of problems, but definitely not this one, she realized, as she ran things over and over in her mind, unsure how to start.
Surely health and safety came first? Or was it the environment? More tourists meant damage to the tracks and drystone walls that had covered the fells for centuries, tracks that the sheep here relied on. Uniquely hefted to the land, they knew their boundaries; too many tourists could change all that and alter their age-old instincts forever.
Going back to her computer with new enthusiasm, she sat down and started to type, her ideas now flowing thick and fast. Of course, she didn’t want to sound too anti-tourism or they might think she was a crank. She would touch on the environmental and cultural impacts, then bring it back to health and safety, saying that while she was well aware of the importance of tourism in the Lake District, for the safety of the tourists who came here it was imperative that any accommodation provided for them should be situated lower down the fell. Most outsiders simply did not understand how dangerous these slopes could quite suddenly become, and accidents—even deadly ones—were a possibility.
She finished her last line with a satisfied smile.
Surely, when giving permission for tourist accommodation in what can often be a hostile and dangerous environment, the planning authority has a duty of care to their visitors and a responsibility to keep them as safe as possible.
She printed the document with a sigh of relief. There, it was done, and now all she had to do was send it off and wait for the outcome. She would have to tell Will, of course, when she found the right moment. He’d entered the application in the first place, she reminded herself, even after he’d agreed to put it aside. She’d try and casually throw it into the conversation, she decided, when they started the training next week. It wouldn’t be a pleasant conversation, but she had to have it. The future of her home was at stake here, and that was way more important than any budding attraction between her and Will.
* * *
FINALLY, IT WAS Floss’s last day at High Bracken, and Max’s first—not much of a swap. Chrissie had never been so sad to see one of her trainees leave, or so apprehensive about a new one coming in.
She was putting Floss through her paces in the training paddock to make sure she was totally ready to go back to her owner. Chrissie asked her to sit and wait, and as usual, the dog’s obedience amazed her, and when she gave her the command “Away...away out,” the little black-and-tan collie ran counterclockwise around the Runner ducks. Gently and carefully, she herded the flock toward where Chrissie was waiting by the pen with the gate open.
“Lie down,” she called, and Floss dropped to the floor, never taking her eyes off her charges until Chrissie gave the command, “Come by,” to send her clockwise. When the ducks finally waddled in, perfectly calm, and Chrissie closed the gate on them, Floss began running round in crazy circles, knowing that her job was done.
“So, is that what you are going to teach Max first?” called Will from where he had been standing near the duck shed. She must not have heard him pull in.
Chrissie laughed. “I wanted you to see just how much you can teach a dog in a short time. Floss hasn’t been here long and she’s just had initial training, but hopefully she’ll be coming back when the lambs are grown, to train on the fell with the sheep and the other dogs. Her owner just wanted the basics established, and then he can do quite a bit on his own. What we need to do with Max is to try and teach him to be more obedient...and obviously not to chase sheep.”
“That could be difficult,” groaned Will. “All he has to do is see a sheep now and he gets overexcited.”
“So that,” announced Chrissie, “will be our first lesson. I do have a way to deter dogs from chasing after sheep—it’s a bit basic, but it works. I’ll set it up for tomorrow.”
Will came closer as she let the ducks out of the pen into the meadow again and called Floss to heel.
“So will he stay here with you now?” he asked.
Chrissie shook her head. “Normally he would, but if you remember, you are paying me to train you, too, so as you’re going to be very involved. He might as well stay with you—for now, at least. I’ll give you training homework to do with him.”
Will fell into step beside her as she headed for the gate. “Are you sure that I’ll be able to do it, though?” he asked uncertainly.
Surprised by his lack of confidence, she smiled. “I thought that nothing fazed you hotshot lawyers.”
“Well nothing in a court of law,” he said. “This is a bit out of my comfort zone.”
“That’s because it’s all about common sense, not words. Common sense, trust, an understanding of the way dogs think and a degree of discipline. Some of the sheep farmers around here only know discipline, but they will never get the best results if they rule by fear.”
Will nodded. “Well, you’re right that words are my forte, but I really do want to learn all the other stuff.”
“Like what to wear,” said Chrissie, hiding a smile as she pointedly looked him up and down.
He grimaced. “You didn’t like my country look or my city clothes, so I thought I’d just do casual.”
“Running shoes are hardly suitable for mud and wet grass, though, are they?” she remarked. “The country boots you had on that day were fine—it was just the tweed jacket and moleskin trousers that were a bit too country gent for a working day. City suits, of course, have no place here. You just need Hunter wellingtons or your country boots, a pair of jeans and a warm, waterproof coat. A wide-brimmed hat is often a good idea, too, as long as it doesn’t keep blowing off. Comfortable and warm—that’s what it’s all about.”
Will laughed and Chrissie noticed how much softer and more approachable he seemed when he smiled. He really was two different people: the hard, career-minded lawyer and the man who was way out of his depth, floundering around in the country but desperately trying to get things right. Perhaps he was even three men, she decided, if you counted the goofy guy who always seemed to get it wrong but really made her laugh. Trouble was, she hadn’t yet worked out which of the three was the real Will Devlin.
“Floss’s owner will be here to collect her soon,” she said. “But if you come back with Max tomorrow—say nine thirty, to give me time to get my jobs done first—then we’ll make a proper start on the basics.”
He seemed disappointed as he moved away, but then he turned back. “So will you be putting Floss through her paces for him?” he asked.
Chrissie shook her head. “He came over a couple of days ago and saw her working then.”
“Is he a farmer?”
“He does have a sheepdog that I am training to work the sheep, so...”
“Unlike me, you mean?”
Chrissie shrugged. “If the cap fits...”
“Perhaps I could stay until he’s gone and we could make a start today,” he suggested, ignoring her slight jab.
He really is looking forward to getting started on this, Chrissie thought with surprise. “I suppose that’s fine,” she told him. “But I have some jobs to do first.” She liked the fact that he was so keen. It seemed genuine, which was a big step toward fitting in here. And if he felt like he was starting to belong, then maybe he’d be more likely to understand where she was coming from about the tourists. Maybe he could even come to share her passion for this way of life.
For the next forty-five minutes, with Will’s help, Chrissie tidied up in the barn, taking down some of the makeshift pens she’d erected for lambing time that she no longer needed. They neatly stacked the hay bales and cleared out the dirty bedding with a wheelbarrow and shovel. Will had elected himself as chief barrow handler, and Chrissie smiled as she watched him stagger off across the yard to the muck pile with yet another huge load. He returned with a broad smile on his face, a healthy glow to his normally pale cheeks and Max bounding around him in circles.
“Who needs the gym?” he said.
Chrissie laughed. “There would be no need for people to go to the gym if they just did a proper hard day’s work. Come on, that’ll do for today. In fact, it’s some of my work for tomorrow sorted, too, thanks to you.”
“You know, I never thought anyone would ever get me to shift muck,” said Will, leaning his fork against the wall.
“I never got you to,” Chrissie reminded him. “You decided to do it all by yourself.”
“So I did,” he agreed, catching her eye. “And I have to say, I quite enjoyed it.”
For a moment he held her blue eyes in his and the breath caught in her throat as she realized that his steely grays were now more softly sparkling silver. When the sound of an engine caught their attention, rumbling and chuffing up the lane, she felt a rush of relief. She didn’t want this camaraderie with Will. The planning meeting loomed over them, and he didn’t even know that she intended to stop his plans from going through. She needed to keep their relationship on professional footing. As it was, their training sessions hadn’t even started yet and she was already losing her head.
The car shuddered to a halt right in front of them.
“Well, is she ready for home?” asked the elderly farmer who clambered out and hobbled toward them.
“Ready and waiting,” Chrissie said, letting out a low whistle. All the dogs came running, including Max, who bounded around like a clumsy pup but with ten times the strength.
“Sorry,” Will said, grabbing for Max’s collar as the dog hurtled into the man’s knees, almost knocking him off his feet.
Chrissie gave the command for Tess and Fly to lie down and called for Floss. “Time to go home, young lady.” Then she turned back to Will. “I’ll just be a minute.”
* * *
WILL WATCHED THEM walk across the yard with the pretty little black-and-tan collie trotting behind them: the elderly farmer, stooped from years of hard, honest labor and the tall woman with her head held high, both knowing exactly who they were and where they were in their lives. They had a real place in the world, whereas he... Where was his place? He used to think it was in the courtroom, but now...now he had to admit to himself that he was lost.
To his amazement, after Chrissie disappeared into the house Tess and Fly remained totally still, heads on paws and bright eyes watching for their mistress’s return.
Will reached down to scratch Max’s broad head. “Will you be like that soon, boy?” The labradoodle looked up at him, smiling and wagging his tail. Will laughed. “I guess that’s a no, then. Well, I for one am excited to learn this dog training stuff.”
As the rusty blue car struggled out of the yard with blue smoke pouring from its exhaust, Chrissie strode purposefully over to where Will stood with Max.
“Well, I really am sorry to see that little dog go,” she said. “She’s been one of the easiest dogs I’ve ever had to train.”
Will grimaced, peering at Max. “Unlike this one, then,” he said. “He’s probably going to be the worst.”
Chrissie shook her head, brushing a tendril of long blond hair behind her ear. “If you think like that then it will never work,” she insisted. “We have to look at Max fairly and be totally objective about his behavior in order to decide why he acts the way he does. After that, we can work out how best to make him learn.”
“No magic tricks, then.”
She shook her head determinedly. “No magic tricks. Just a lot of common sense and determination.”
“So, what’s the plan?”
Chrissie sighed. “It’s easy to work with collies—some are sharper than others, more aggressive perhaps, or more nervous. But they have certain instincts I know how to build on. I’m not as familiar with labradoodles, obviously, but the principles are the same. The first thing I do when I get a new recruit is to get to know its nature so that I can decide which approach to use. With Max...well, let’s just say that I already have a good idea about his nature.”
Will leaned forward, all ears. “And that is?”
“Well...” she began, “we have to take into account what he is. Labradors are bred to be working dogs. They tend to be very trainable and are usually loving, easygoing and generally happy, with strong instincts to retrieve and naturally soft mouths. Poodles, however, have a reputation for being highly strung, excitable and nervous. So a mixture of the two can go toward either end of the spectrum.”
“And which way has Max gone, do you think?”
Chrissie smiled, warming to her task. “No, which way do you think he has gone?”
Will shrugged. “I guess he swings more toward the Labrador. A client of mine used to have a chocolate Lab, as I remember. She was a bit dopey and daft.”
“There you are, then,” agreed Chrissie. “So Max is daft and dopey rather than nervous?”
“He isn’t nervous about anything.” Will smiled. “Or of anything.”
“So, would you say he lacks respect?”
“Absolutely. He thinks the sheep are just playthings.”
“And there lies your problem,” Chrissie told him. “He doesn’t even respect you.”
Max looked from one to the other as if he was aware they were talking about him, and they both laughed.
“So how do we go about teaching him respect?” Will asked.
“Well, as I mentioned, some farmers around here like to rule by fear, and while you do have to be firm, sometimes they can take it too far. The first thing I’d like to do with him is to teach him to respect the sheep, and maybe that will change his attitude to us a little. We will be there to protect him, you see.”
“Protect him from what?” asked Will with a puzzled frown.
“From the sheep.” Chrissie smiled secretively. “No more questions—let’s just see if it works.”
“You’ve tried it before, right?”
She shook her head. “Not exactly. At least, not on purpose, although I know people who have and I’ve seen it happen often enough in a normal working situation. Come on—nothing ventured, nothing gained. All training works like this to a degree. We read the situation, decide what approach to take and move on from there, learning all the time.”
Before they reached the Runner ducks’ paddock, Chrissie spent some time teaching Max basic commands. “I want to try and get his attention without the distraction of the ducks or anything,” she told Will. He wondered what the “anything” was but decided not to ask. No doubt he’d find out soon enough.
Chrissie’s plan worked to a degree. That is, it worked when Max could be bothered to listen.
“To him, life is just a game,” she explained. “And he is still quite young, isn’t he?”
“Almost eighteen months,” Will offered.
Giving a firm command to sit, Chrissie backed away slowly, holding up her palm. “You need to use body language,” she said. “Animals understand that—horses as much as dogs, actually. I had a pony right through my teenage years, and I used to love playing around with horse-whispering techniques. Everything to do with animals is a learning curve, and you have to stay open-minded.”
“So why did you stop? Riding, I mean.”
Chrissie shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. I outgrew my pony, Sunny, and always intended to get another, but...” Her expression grew wistful. “After my parents died, I just seemed to be so busy all the time. I was—and still am—determined to keep this farm going for them, but it’s tough sometimes, on my own.”
Will placed a hand on her arm. “I heard about your parents, and I’m so sorry. You must still miss them very much.”
“Every day.” Chrissie sighed, and her eyes filled with tears. “Anyway...” She seemed to be making an effort to pull herself together. Not one of those tears fell. “I couldn’t afford to buy a horse even if I did have the time.”
“You could use the training money I gave you,” Will suggested, and she shook her head, smiling at him. Somehow, in that moment, he felt closer to her than when he’d kissed her.
“I don’t think there will be much left once I’ve settled the bills.”
Max still sat obediently and she leaned forward, patting her knees. “Here, boy,” she called, and he ran toward her eagerly. “You see?” she cried. “He’s enjoying being given something to concentrate on.”
Observing the animation in Chrissie’s face, Will was flooded with an unfamiliar emotion. She was just so...so sure of who she was. Losing her parents must have been devastating, but she’d been strong. She’d never wavered and never let them down. He hadn’t met anyone like her before, a woman who was motivated by the love she had for her life here, by her dedication to the creatures in her care. Her independence was admirable, yet her solitude also made him kind of sad. She had so much to give, so much love; he could see that in the way she treated her animals. So why was she alone? Perhaps she just hadn’t met someone she wanted to share her life with. Or maybe she didn’t want to share it at all.
“How come you are on your own?” he asked, regretting the question the moment the words left his lips. It was way too personal.
She stiffened. “How come you are?”
He grinned. “Touché. I guess I deserved that.”
“You need to do this kind of training with him constantly,” she said, ignoring his question and changing the subject. “Come here, sit, stay and lie down—basic commands are the whole way forward. Just spend time with him, and have some small treats in your pocket initially if it makes it easier to get his attention. Be firm and strict but never lose your temper—that is negative. Praise him when he gets it right and never let him off until he’s done what you’ve asked. He will learn to want to please you if you persevere. That’s why I don’t think you should leave him with me, as Floss’s owner did. It’s important to build up your relationship with him. Right now he sees you as just a friend, not a master.”
“And what about the sheep-chasing?” asked Will, already enthusiastic about the prospect of training Max. “What is it you’ve set up to solve that?”
Chrissie smiled. “All right, I’ll show you. But first I want you to tell Max to sit. Then attach the long leash and repeat the command every now and then until he does what you want without thinking about it.”
* * *
AS CHRISSIE WATCHED Will’s attempts to control the big, boisterous dog, a warm glow spread inside her. His awkward but determined efforts were surprisingly touching.
“So, tell me again,” she said. “Exactly why did you buy a dog like him?”
He glanced up at her before turning his attention back Max, who had decided to roll over instead of sitting. “I don’t really know,” he said, shaking his head and smiling at the dog’s antics. “I’ve never had much to do with dogs, but when I set my mind on moving to the country and bought Craig Side it just seemed like a good idea. I saw him advertised online and he was so cute, I called the seller and bought him.”
“What?” Chrissie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You mean you never even went to see him?”
“No...the man delivered him for me and I gave him the cash.”
Will looked sheepish, but Chrissie found his embarrassment and vulnerability endearing. “I don’t think I have ever met anyone who knows as little about animals and the countryside as you,” she told him, amused. “So, whatever made you buy yourself a farm, especially one as isolated as Craig Side?”
Gathering up Max’s leash, Will shrugged. “You’re going to think I’m even more stupid now. I stayed in Little Dale once with my parents, when I was just a kid. When I walked out of the courtroom and out of my career that day, I remembered loving it here. It seemed so far away from everything I was used to. So I just got in my car, drove here and booked into a guesthouse. I saw Craig Side advertised in an estate agent’s window and loved its isolation. I put in an offer as soon as I’d been to look at it, and here I am.”
“I don’t think I know anyone as difficult to understand as you are,” Chrissie said.
Will was immediately on the defensive. “What do you mean?”
Chrissie hesitated, unsure if she should admit to Googling him. “I found you on the internet,” she eventually admitted. “Not to be nosy, I promise, but you could have been a serial killer or something for all I knew—I just wanted to feel safe.”
Will’s face darkened. “And?”
“And I found out that you had a huge and very successful career in law—I mean, you’d told me you were a lawyer, obviously, but I didn’t realize quite how big your reputation was. There was a headline, too...”
His jaw tightened. “Don’t tell me...Criminal Lawyer or Just Plain Criminal?”
She nodded, her cheeks heating up. “Something like that.”
“Listen...” He let go of Max’s leash and took hold of both her hands, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I’ve already told you. I’m not proud of what I was. It’s true that I was successful, very successful, but it was for all the wrong reasons. Maybe all I’ve done is run away, but whatever happens, I will never go back to where I was.”
Chrissie let her hands sit in his as she studied him with curiosity. “It’s just such a huge step to take from where you were as a city slicker lawyer to this isolated existence surrounded by sheep and dogs...”
“And good neighbors,” he cut in with a small smile. “Well, one good neighbor, at least.”
“I just wonder if all this will be enough, though,” she went on, ignoring his attempt at humor. “You are so far out of your comfort zone...”
Will’s eyes glittered and he stared intently at her hands, kneading her knuckles with his fingers. “I stepped out of my comfort zone on that day in the courtroom,” he said. “I looked at my client’s face, the man I was defending. His smug expression held so much arrogance, so much deceit and cruelty that it made me sick. It seemed that a veil had been lifted from my eyes and I was ashamed...ashamed of all my previous successes...ashamed of the man I had become. If that’s what it meant to be in my comfort zone, I don’t ever want to be in it again.”
Chrissie stayed very still, acutely aware of his vulnerability. “Then learn from your mistakes,” she urged him, closing her fingers around his. “Become a better man.”
He smiled. “That,” he said, “is exactly what I am trying to do...with your help, of course.”
“But do you think that’s really the answer? Hiding yourself way up here with dogs and sheep?”
His eyes were intense and piercing, and she couldn’t pull hers away. “And with you,” he murmured. “Life here feels honest, Chrissie, honest and true and real. I want to go with it, to find myself again. That’s enough for me right now...especially with you to help me.”
“And now you’re making me feel guilty for taking your money,” she cried. “You’ve paid me way too generously.”
Will shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. It’s well worth it to me.”
“Well then, just pay me for training Max. I was way out of order making an extra charge for you to be involved, anyway.”
He shook his head. “I told you, it’s just money...although...” He raised his eyebrows, lightening the mood. “It seems to me that you’re not doing your job very well so far.”
Chrissie bristled, all traces of guilt fading. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that you aren’t doing your job very well because your charge is currently hightailing it off up the fell.”
With a horrified cry, Chrissie turned to see Max racing off across the meadow. “Max,” she yelled, hurrying after him and calling him back with as much calm and determination as she could manage. Despite her best efforts, her voice rose with frustration when he ignored her.
“Firm but always calm, remember,” said Will, attempting to keep up with her. “And never lose your temper.”
Chrissie shot him an angry glare, their moment of closeness relegated to the back of her mind. “I am not losing my temper... I’m just displaying my authority.”
“Ah,” Will teased. “So that’s what they call it now.”