Christmas with her Boss

anything he could do about it. ‘This was moon madness. We both know it, and it bears out my decision that I need to quit. What if there’d been a condom round tonight? We’d have been lost.’

Lost. The word hung between them, loaded with too many meanings.

‘Will you help me pack up?’ she said. ‘Millicent will be fine for what’s left of the night. It’s lovely and warm. She has a fine heifer calf to clean and she’ll do it better without us.’

‘Heifer?’

‘A little girl. I think we’ll call her Milly. Millicent, mother of Milly. It has a fine ring to it, don’t you think?’

She was talking for the sake of talking, he realised. She was putting emotion aside.

‘I don’t want to leave you,’ he said simply and she looked at him for a long moment, considering, and then she shook her head.

‘You can’t take me with you. I don’t fit. I did when my role was PA. No more. Somehow we’ve messed this and all there is now is for us to get on with our lives. You’ve got Ned and Pip and Elinor waiting for you back in New York, and you have your life there. I have a grandma and a little brother, and dairy cows and dogs and one brand new calf. That’s enough to keep any girl happy.’

‘Is it?’

’Yes,’ she said, rising and dumping ropes into buckets. ‘Yes, it is. Yes, it must be.’

CHAPTER TEN

WILLIAM woke to an operatic soprano belting out Silent Night right underneath his attic. Letty was singing along, almost louder than the soprano. A couple of dogs were joining right in.

Five-thirty. He’d been in bed for what-two and a half hours-and he’d lain awake for at least one of them.

He groaned and put his pillow over his head and then Scotty started singing too, and more dogs joined in, full howl.

Christmas. Hooray.

Feeling more like Scrooge every minute, he hauled his jeans on and staggered downstairs. The kitchen table was groaning with food in various states of preparation. Letty was wearing a truly astonishing crimson robe and a Santa hat. Scotty was sitting in his pyjamas, shelling peas. The difference between now and yesterday was astonishing.

‘Happy Christmas,’ Letty said, beaming. ‘Great pecs.’ Then, as he tried to figure whether to blush, she motioned to the sound system in the corner where, mercifully, Silent Night had just come to an end. ‘My favourite carol. You want us to play it again?’

‘She’ll make you sing,’ Scotty warned and William looked at the pair of them and saw exactly why Meg loved them to bits. A blushing adolescent and an old lady with her arm bandaged to her elbow, a lady who had almost died yesterday, who was now stirring something vaguely alcoholic, or possibly more than vaguely.

‘Eggnog,’ Letty said, following his gaze. ‘Just on finished. You want first glass?’

‘At five-thirty in the morning?’

‘Yeah, it’s late,’ Letty said. ‘Meg’s already milking, without her eggnog. You want to take some over to her?’

‘No,’ he said, revolted.

‘What’s wrong with my eggnog?’

‘If I’m going to help her milk, I need to be able to count teats.’

‘He has trouble getting to four, Grandma,’ Scotty said kindly. ‘We’d better let him off eggnog till the girls are milked.’ He hesitated. ‘You will help milk, won’t you? Meg said you helped so much last night that she wouldn’t wake you, but she’ll be ages alone.’

‘I could help,’ Letty said darkly. ‘Only she won’t let me.’

‘With your arm? You’re as dodgy as I am,’ Scott retorted and once again William was hit with the sensation that he was on the outside, looking in. Family?

‘Okay, toast and coffee and no eggnog until afterwards, but there’s home-made raspberry jam,’ Letty told him, moving right on. ‘And real butter. None of that cholesterol-reducing muck this morning.’

‘Grandma…’ Scott said and Letty grimaced and held up her hands in surrender.

‘I know. Back to being good tomorrow. You needn’t worry, young man; I intend to be around to boss you for a long time to come.’

‘So no more Santa rescues.’

‘I’ll be good,’ she said and William saw a flash of remembered terror from yesterday and he thought she wasn’t as tough as she was making out. She was brave, though. And he saw Scott worrying about her and he thought that courage came in all guises.

They were all brave. And Meg… What she’d been trying to do for all of them since her parents’ death…

‘So you know about Millicent’s calf,’ he ventured, feeling really off centre, and they both grinned, happiness returning.

‘Of course we do,’ Scott said. ‘She’s gorgeous. And Meg said you got a backward hoof out. I wish she’d called me. I could’ve have helped.’

‘There’ll be lots of calves for you to help in the future,’ Letty said roundly. ‘We’ll get your leg right first. We’re just lucky William was able to help. We’re very pleased to have you here,’ she said to William. ‘Now, Meg checked the news before she milked and she says the planes are running again. She and Scott checked flights and there are some available. She said to tell you when you woke up. But you don’t want to leave yet, do you?’

‘I…’

Did he want to leave? They were looking at him expectantly. Over in the dairy, Meg was milking, alone.

His world was twisting, as if it was trying to turn him in a direction he hadn’t a clue about.

‘I do need to go,’ he said at last and it was as if the words were dragged out of him. ‘If I help with the milking now, Scott, would you mind making me a list of flights and times?’

‘Today?’ ‘Yes, please.’

‘You really want to leave?’ Scott demanded incredulously, and William thought about last night, thought about holding Meg. Thought about holding Meg again.

If he got any closer…

If Letty had fallen yesterday… If Scotty had been killed in that accident…

If anything happened to Meg…

Do not get close. Do not open yourself to that sort of pain.

‘I don’t want to go,’ he said, striving not to let his voice sound heavy. ‘How could I want to leave Letty’s eggnog? But I do need to get back to Manhattan as soon as possible. So please let me know which flight might be available.’

‘Okay,’ Scotty said and, even if the kid did sound disappointed, William couldn’t let that stand in the way of a decision that must be made.

He headed back upstairs to dress and, as he did, Letty adjusted the sound system. Next on the playlist was Deck the Halls and she turned the sound up even louder.

This place was crazy.

Of course he had to get out of here.

Meg was milking, head down behind a cow. When he reached the yard she didn’t emerge, just kept on doing what she was doing. Killer and the rest of the dog pack greeted him with pleasure but there wasn’t a lot of pleasure emanating from Meg.

That had to be okay by him. Maybe it was even sensible. He ushered the next cow into a bale and started doing what had to be done. He was getting good at this. Where could he use this new skill when he left?

Would he ever milk a cow again?

‘Happy Christmas,’ Meg said at last from behind her cow and he thought she sounded exhausted. Had she slept at all?