Everything but his kiss has faded away. I’ve forgotten how cold I am, how wet I am, and how much water is still pooling around us. I haven’t forgotten how shaky my limbs are but I’m not sure if that’s from the digging or just a side-effect of kissing Noel. I vaguely register the rumble of cars on the road and the slamming of doors, but I don’t think anything of it.

‘And you tried to tell us there was nothing going on between you.’ Fiona clears her throat and Fergus lets out a whoop.

‘See? I told you they were getting jiggy with it!’

I’m not sure whether to be horrified or impressed that a man as far into his seventies as Fergus knows the term ‘getting jiggy with it’ and isn’t afraid to use it in public.

Noel and I scramble apart and get to our feet, and I shout across the river to them. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Glenna phoned. Said the farm was in trouble and you needed help. We’re the cavalry.’ Fiona glances behind her as Glenna, Iain and the other two farm workers, the baker, the bookseller, and the candle woman appear. ‘The mostly elderly cavalry who aren’t quite sure what they’re doing and need a bit of direction. And tea!’ She starts dispatching people towards the house for tea, coffee, and pumpkin bread duties, but I interrupt.

‘It’s dangerous. The ground is wet and muddy, you might fall.’ I envision these poor old people flailing around on their backs in the sludge, a tangle of limbs unable to get up with broken hips and dislocated shoulders and legs sticking out at all angles.

‘Oh, never mind that nonsense. Have you seen those two big, burly farmhands? If you think a bit of rain is going to put me off watching them work, you’ve got another thing coming. Opportunities to appreciate men like that don’t come along every day, you know.’

I giggle and the tears that have been threatening finally spill over. Noel drops an arm around my shoulder and tugs me into his side. ‘Why would they do this?’ I turn my face into his wet chest to hide. ‘It’s horrible out here. Why would they voluntarily come out in this?’

‘Because they like you, Lee,’ he says softly in my ear. ‘Because they care about you and this farm and how much work you’ve put into it. You’ve helped all of us at the market – why shouldn’t they help you when you need it too?’

‘Because—’

‘People can be kind without wanting anything in return. Let them. Just because you were stung once doesn’t mean you will be again.’

I slip my arm around his waist and squeeze tight, trying to reflect the same sentiment back at him.