first snows of winter on the peaks still drew the hardy back at the weekends, to marvel at the high tops, covered with white. Jay took off with an ice axe and crampons, hiking above the snow line where only the most intrepid ventured. He usually left Trevor safely tucked up in the cottage. He knew it was risky to walk and scramble alone, but he felt alive when he was up on the crags, looking down on the rest of the world.
He climbed the slope to the copse, an ancient area of woodland above the plantation, full of oak, beech and mountain ash. It was the final wooded area before the ground rose sharply and opened out into heather-clad fells, populated only by the Herdwick sheep. As it wasn’t open to the public, it was one of his favourite places to seek peace and solitude. A deer emerged briefly into a clearing and he stopped to watch it vanish into the shadows. Nature helped to clear his mind.
Jay walked on, working through his schedule for the run-up to Christmas in his mind. Tree sales opened on the final weekend in November and closed on the twenty-first of December, by which time everyone should have bought their tree or they’d have run out of stock.
It was a delicate balancing act. He’d managed a similar scheme in a previous job at a forestry centre and it was a short but incredibly intense period. He doubted he’d get much rest, with sales being open from nine a.m. until eight p.m. every day. The upside meant he’d be exhausted by Christmas Eve and hopefully sleep through it all.
The downside was Trevor having to spend more time inside the cottage, although Jay made time to walk him at lunchtime, no matter how busy he was. The dog was also used to taking his walks in all weathers. He didn’t care if it was hailing, blowing a gale and pitch black, he was so excited to be in the outdoors. Firholme was a gourmet location for dogs, with its fellsides, woods and array of delicious doggy smells.
Trevor had also helped keep Jay sane after his split from Nadia. He’d been so relieved when she’d made it clear that she didn’t want to take the dog when she’d moved out. It would have been the nail in the coffin for Jay to lose Trevor too, along with everyone else he loved.
Jay strode back into the forest, checking out the areas where the holly grew and looking for mistletoe. He’d suggested harvesting some festive greenery for the house and café to Lottie, and she’d seemed very pleased he’d offered. He felt soothed and calmer since he’d taken the job at Firholme – he supposed he was ‘healing’ slowly, though he also felt he was a long way from a full recovery.
He was almost at the edge of the forest when a rustle in the leaves stopped him dead. A squirrel scampered across his path and stopped in a pool of sunlight, the rays making its bushy tail seem like a halo.
Jay held his breath, watching as it nibbled an acorn, oblivious to his presence. He thought of Lottie’s delight and their shared wonder at seeing the squirrel together. He had a feeling they’d share more than a love of nature, if they got the chance.
His snort of derision at the idea of him sharing anything more with Lottie startled the squirrel and it fled up the trunk of an oak.
Who was he kidding? Even if he overcame every instinct and asked her out, he had absolutely no idea if someone as lively and sociable – and gorgeous – as her was even interested in him.
Chapter Seven
Stars twinkled in the sky as Lottie drove from Firholme to Carnthwaite, a small village at the northern end of Derwentwater where Steph and the twins lived. It was only a few miles away, but on the twisty, narrow roads, it took twenty minutes. There were no streetlights on the road and only a sliver of moon, and occasionally her headlights swept over sheep huddled by farm gates or the white walls of cottages.
She’d lain awake into the small hours the night after Connor had walked back into her life, bringing his fiancée with him. She’d been trying to come to terms with his reappearance and wondering how much to tell her sister. Although Steph’s chemo and radiotherapy had finished in the summer, she was still anxiously awaiting a date for a