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She found her father in his car in the hospital car park. 'How was he?
When am I going to meet him?' he asked as they drove off.
'He's much better, and why not come and meet him tomorrow?' she said, smiling. 'You'll like him.'
He did, of course, immediately. David was easy to like, he made friends without even trying, with that lazy, friendly grin of his; and, in his turn, David was determined to like her father, so of course, he did.
There was goodwill on both sides and each of them was delighted to find it so easy to like the other.
'When they let you leave hospital, you must come and stay for a while,' her father told him. 'I'll do my best to see you don't get bored. I suppose a sheep farm isn't the most exciting place in the world, but. .
.'
'I've often thought I'd like to farm,' David said, as he had said to Prue, and she gave him a laughing glance, still amused by the idea.
It was the right thing to say to her father, though. He was quite delighted and happily told David all about the farm.
Prue hadn't seen Josh for several days now; she was rather relieved and hoped he would stay away altogether until she and David had left Yorkshire. But, of course, Josh had to work closely with her father, as with all the other tenants on certain jobs—mending the ancient walls dividing one field from another, for instance, or when they needed to borrow the expensive pieces of machinery Josh could afford but they couldn't.
Only that morning James Allardyce had murmured something about expecting Josh round any day now to discuss a rabbit shoot.
'Oh, poor rabbits!' Prue had unwisely exclaimed, and her father had become quite excited on the subject of rabbits and their antisocial behaviour. They ate the bark off young saplings, he said, they ate his vegetables and in the spring they made havoc among newly springing wheat and barley; he reeled off a long list of reasons for the farmer's dislike of rabbits, but Prue still insisted that she loved them.
'They're sweet!'
'They're pests!' her father growled, making her laugh.
'Well, I hope you don't catch any of them,' Prue said, green eyes defiant.
She liked to get up very early in the morning and lean on her bedroom window-sill in the pale dawn light to watch the field beyond her father's garden. At that time of day it was alive with rabbits, although if Prue made the slightest sound their quick ears would hear her and they would all vanish.
How like Josh Killane to arrange to have them hunted down ruthlessly, and shot! No doubt he viewed them as pests and vermin, too. His family farm had much better land than that attached to her father's hillfarm. Josh grew crops as well as running sheep and some cattle on his valley land. He had more to lose, and far more reason to dislike rabbits!
In fact, Josh didn't show up at the farm for another two days, and when he came it wasn't to arrange the rabbit shoot and James Allardyce wasn't at home, anyway, he was out on the farm somewhere that afternoon, with the local vet, checking on some sheep giving her father anxiety.
Prue was in the farm kitchen, cooking the evening meal, a rich lamb stew, using their own meat, and thick with homegrown winter vegetables and herbs. She didn't have any warning of Josh's arrival, but then he didn't knock or ring; he just walked in through the back door, taking her by surprise.
Face flushed, hair disorderly, she swung round, her mouth rounding.
'Oh! You!'
His dark eyes wandered over her apron-clad figure; she hadn't dressed for visitors, she wore no make-up at all and under the white apron she was only wearing a rather old and far too tight black sweater and jeans. She stiffened under his inspection, her hand tightening around the handle of the chopping knife she held. Josh glanced at the hand holding the knife, then raised one eyebrow.
'Are you planning to use that?' He managed to invest the question with mockery.
'I was chopping parsley,' she coldly informed him. 'My father is out with the vet looking at the flock. I don't know when he'll be back. I'll tell him you called.' She turned her back on him and began working again.
He didn't leave; he lounged there, very tall, very much at his ease, dressed as casually as herself and yet managing to make his old green tweeds look almost glamorous. They had faded to a gentle shabbiness which matched his surroundings but certainly didn't betray the real wealth she knew his family possessed. That tweed suit had probably cost the earth when it was new, but he had most likely worn it for years, and would go on doing so until it simply wore out. It had style, though; she could see it had been cut by a master tailor and the material was the best Scottish tweed.
'How's the fiancé?' he drawled.
She chopped parsley viciously. 'Fine, thank you.' She didn't want him talking about David; she didn't like the tone of voice he always used.
'A little bird told me he would be able to leave hospital a lot earlier than they thought at first; he's making such good progress.'
'We hope so.' She should have stopped chopping; she had a small mountain of parsley now. What on earth was she going to do with it all? She had only meant to chop enough to garnish the stew. Josh had addled her brains. What little bird did he mean? Had he rung the hospital to ask after David, or had her father told him? But of course he had plenty of contacts at the hospital. The Killane family had been around here since medieval times; everyone knew them and they knew everyone.
'Are you leaving then, or staying on here for a while?' Josh asked, and she put down the knife and contemplated the result of her work with impatience.
