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“I know that.” He squeezed her hands. “I do. And that’s what I want. I love you, Rachel Mowbray. I’ve loved you for a long time.” His expression was serious, his golden-brown gaze blazing into hers. “You want to talk about childhood crushes…”
“What?” Rachel shook her head instinctively. “No.”
“Why do you think I told that yob on the bus that you weren’t my girlfriend?” Ben demanded. “Because I didn’t want you to say it first! I was terrified you’d reject me right there on the bus, and I couldn’t bear it. It’s always been you, Rachel. Always. From when we were children. For as long as I can remember.”
He’d intimated as much before, yesterday, but she hadn’t believed him, not entirely. Looking at his intent expression, the emotion blazing out of him, she knew she did now. “Ben…” she began. “I—” Love you too. She tried to say it, but he cut across her, determined now, on a roll.
“Look, I’ll say my piece and then you can take it or leave it. You deserve that much, to know how I really feel.” He gave a brisk nod, his hands planted on his hips, his expression endearingly obdurate as he continued, “I love you and I’ll damned well fight for you, if that’s what it takes. Yes, the farm’s here, I’m here, and I’ll be honest, I can’t really see myself in London. There aren’t many sheep there, for starters.”
“No,” Rachel agreed with a small smile.
“But there could be other things.” He raked a hand through his hair, so clearly out of his comfort zone yet still determined to stride forward, no matter how hard it was. “I don’t know what that would be, not yet, but I could turn my hand to a lot of things, if I tried, I reckon. I think I’d manage in London, if I had to. If you were there. If you needed to be, for work.”
Rachel’s heart felt as if it had been filled to overflowing, tipped over like a jug. “Ben,” she said quietly, her voice full of tenderness, “I couldn’t ask you to move to London.” She knew that with a bone-deep certainty; a fish out of water wouldn’t even begin to cover it. “I wouldn’t do that,” she told him.
“You wouldn’t have to,” Ben replied. “I’m volunteering.”
This man,Rachel thought with a thrill of wonder, a rush of love.This man would do that for her?“Still,” she said. “I appreciate the offer, more than you can possibly know. That you would be willing… Well.” She found she had to clear her throat as she smiled at him. “But I don’t want to be in London anymore. My family’s here; you’re here. We can find other solutions. I know we can. I just wanted you to talk about it.”
“Like I said, I’m an idiot.” He gave her a wry smile. “There is York not too far away, and Newcastle just a bit farther. I reckon there are some finance-type jobs in those places, if you were willing. We could even…well, I could sell up here, find another place closer to a city. If that’s—”
“Sell your family farm?” Rachel couldn’t keep the horror from her voice. She’d never have suggested such a thing. “No. No way.”
“I’m trying here, Rach—”
“And that’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Suddenly it seemed simple, wonderfully so, and easy. The insecurity she’d felt for so long, the hurt she’d held on to, fell away in one clean swoop, just like the old wallpaper coming away from the wall, revealing something old, and yet now made new. Her true self, loved by this man. “I just wanted you to try,” she whispered. “And I’ll try too, and somehow,somehowwe’ll make it work. I know we will.” She took a step closer to him, and then another, and then she put her arms around him, drawing him into an embrace. It really was a two-way street. Ben put his arms around her waist into a hug as she nestled closer. “I love you, Ben,” she whispered. “I always have.”
“We’re a sorry pair, aren’t we?” He shook his head ruefully and then kissed her hair, his arms tightening around her. “All these years.”
“All these years,” she agreed softly. “And all the years in future.” As she stood there in the shelter of his arms, she realised she had no idea what that future would bring—and that was actually okay. Would she move to Mathering, find a job in York or Newcastle, do something else entirely? Would her dad be here at Christmas, in the spring? She didn’t know any of it, but she realised she was looking forward to finding out because whatever happened, whatever the future held, they would face it together, her and Ben.
“That business all sorted now?” her dad asked as he stumped into the kitchen, his grumpy tone belying the wide smile on his face.
“I think it is,” Rachel replied shyly, stepping back as Ben kept one arm slung around her shoulders.
“It most certainly is,” Ben interjected firmly.
“Good,” her dad replied. “Then any chance of getting a cuppa?”
Rachel let out a little laugh as Harriet came into the room, shooting first her a knowing smile, and then Ben, before reaching for the kettle.
“I’ll do it, Dad,” Harriet said, and Rachel leaned her head against Ben’s shoulder, amazed at how happy she felt. So much hadn’t changed, not yet—her dad still had a terminal diagnosis, her sister could still be prickly, her mother was pretty much AWOL—and yet so muchhad. They were taking steps towards the future, and that was all that mattered.
Inside her, as well as around her, change was happening. Whatever lay ahead, they would see it through together—not just her and Ben, but her and her family. And for the first time in years—decades, even—Rachel knew she was truly home.
The End
