Chapters (53)
- Cover
- Title page
- Dedication page
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Thirty-nine
- Forty
- Forty-one
- Forty-two
- Forty-three
- Forty-four
- Sow the Seed
- Reap the Harvest
- About the Author
- ALSO BY MARGARET DICKINSON
- Acknowledgements
- Copyright page
Exasperated, Esther sighed, but relented. ‘Yes, then you can go.’ As the little girl skipped away to fetch a basket, Esther shouted after her, ‘And don’t break any, Katie.’
‘No, Mam, I won’t.’
But when Katie had left the farm, running on her sturdy little legs towards the Point, Esther’s thoughts turned once again to Jonathan Godfrey. Her irritation stayed with her all day. She was angry with herself for having read more into his glances, his smiles, his words. How could he just go off like that, without a word? He was just another flirt – like Matthew, she told herself crossly.
Then she sighed. Only the stranger had been so very good-looking and so kind. How many other men she knew would have spent the whole afternoon shrimping with four small children? Certainly not Matthew! He had hardly ever taken any notice of his own daughter, let alone anyone else’s.
Despite her vexation, she still found herself glancing up the lane, half-hoping she would see Jonathan Godfrey walking along it, back towards the Point.
But the lane was deserted – not even Will was due for a visit today.
When Kate returned at dinner-time, Esther questioned her eagerly. ‘Has Mr Godfrey gone?’
The child wrinkled her smooth brow. ‘Dunno. Nobody said.’
‘But – he’s not there now?’ Esther persisted.
Kate shook her curls. ‘He was nice, wasn’t he, Mam?’
‘Yes, Kate,’ Esther murmured, more to herself than in answer to the child. ‘He was nice.’
Twenty-four
AS Esther spooned stewed apple into a bowl and placed it before Kate, there came a knock at the back door.
Mother and child exchanged a glance.
‘Mebbe it’s Danny.’ Kate picked up her spoon and as Esther moved to answer the door, the child added, ‘Tell him I’ll come when I’ve had me dinner.’
But it was not Danny.
Esther found herself gazing into a pair of blue eyes, the laughter lines crinkling around them. Then her glance went to something he was holding out to her.
‘I made this for Kate. Is she here?’
Esther nodded. ‘I – thought . . .’ she began, then, gathering her reeling senses, pulled the door wider open to invite him in.
Esther saw her daughter’s eyes light up and she gave a little squeal of delight. ‘A shrimpin, net! Is it for me?’
Jonathan nodded. Kate jumped down from her place at the table and took the net from him. ‘Ooh, it’s lovely. I must show Danny—’
She was gone, rushing out of the back door, her feet flying across the yard.
‘Kate! Kate, what do you say to Mr Godfrey?’
But Jonathan only laughed. ‘Let her go. Her delight is thanks enough.’
‘Mebbe so –’ Esther pursed her lips – ‘but she shouldn’t forget her manners.’
His smile disarmed her chagrin at her impulsive daughter, and in an instant dispelled the feeling of disappointment that had lingered all the morning.