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In spite of Harvey's antics it was very peaceful. Beth, her back resting against an ancient oak tree, allowed her mind to wander, and it was a full minute before she realised that all she was thinking about was Travis Black. Which was crazy—worse than crazy. She didn't know what had got into her.
She sat up straight, annoyed with herself. He had been kind, she had to give him that, but the whole episode was now a closed chapter, so why was she wasting one second thinking about a virtual stranger? And a much too attractive stranger at that. Travis was the sort of man who ought to have 'Danger to Women' stamped across his forehead in big red letters.
Harvey decided to come and shake himself at her side in the next moment, which effectively cut Beth's musings short, but for the rest of the walk she made sure Travis was kept firmly on the perimeter of her thoughts. It was a battle, but she managed it.
A golden twilight was scenting the air when Beth finally pushed open the gate of Herb Cottage much later that day. She was exhausted, but pleasantly so. Harvey was making it clear he felt his paws had been walked off and that he was ready for his dinner as he plodded after her.
She saw the big bunch of flowers lying on the doorstep almost immediately, her pulse quickening as she walked up the garden path. The pale pink rosebuds, freesias and baby's breath were wrapped in cellophane and tied with a pink ribbon. The small card read; 'A little housewarming present'. It was signed simply 'Travis'.
She stared at the firm black scrawl, her heart thumping. He had bought her flowers. It was the last thing she'd expected after their somewhat terse parting. Why had he done that?
She opened the door, clicking the latch down once she was in the cottage so there couldn't be a repeat of last night's per¬formance. Walking into the tiny kitchen, she lay the flowers on the draining board, continuing to stare at them until Harvey's whine reminded her he was waiting for his meal.
Once the dog was fed, she dug out a vase from the bits and pieces in the cupboard under the sink and placed the flowers in water. They were gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous.
They didn't mean anything; he was probably just being kind. She nodded at the thought. Which was fine. People were allowed to be kind without any ulterior motives, after all. These flowers didn't mean he was interested in her. She frowned at the sweetly scented blooms as she carried the vase through to the sitting room. But his doing this was a complication.
She plonked the vase down on the old-fashioned dresser and went to fix herself a quick meal of salad and cold meat. She ate her supper on a tray in the sitting room, staring at the flowers, Harvey sitting to attention at her feet as he eyed her last piece of home-cured ham hopefully.
The flowers didn't mean she would necessarily see anything of Travis Black again, she told herself later as she washed the dishes before getting ready for bed. From what he'd told her, he was a busy man and time was at a premium. And, as she didn't want to see him again, that suited her perfectly.
Nevertheless, in the short time before she drifted off to sleep, she couldn't help anticipating the next day and whether there would be a knock at the door. And she didn't like the way her pulse quickened at the possibility either.
There was no knock at the door, not on the following day or the subsequent ones. Travis had obviously returned to Bristol after his weekend at his bolt-hole. Beth told herself she was immensely relieved that a difficult episode had finished on a good note, and she was, in a way. She didn't want to see Travis again—she didn't want to get mixed up with any man again—so she couldn't quite understand why she found him popping into her mind at odd moments.
She washed and ironed the T-shirt and jogging bottoms and packaged them up with a note thanking him for his hospital¬ity and the gift of the flowers, depositing the parcel in the post box he'd spoken of on Saturday morning. Once that was done she felt a little better about everything. She had kept the note polite and friendly but faintly dismissive, covertly indicating she didn't expect their paths to cross again.
As one peaceful May day after another passed, Beth found herself eating and sleeping better than she had in years. This was partly due to the peace and quiet, but also because the days were sunny and warm and she and Harvey could tramp the countryside to their hearts' content, returning home tired and happy as evening shadows stretched across the cottage garden.
Green valleys and wooded hillsides, little grey farms and whitewashed cottages provided surroundings so different from the clamour and bustle of London that Beth felt she'd been transported to another world rather than a different part of England. She seemed to come across something enchantingly different almost every day. A buzzard soaring from a rocky crag, a brood of baby ducklings swimming in a little pool amidst the heather, ponies frolicking and chasing each other by the side of a dashing stream and the delicate pale rosettes of butterwort leaves on a green river bank.
