even a toaster.
“Biscuits are in the barrel,” he said as she handed him a steaming mug.
She picked it up from its prominent position on the counter and sat down at the table.
“Same one, I see.”
“Not much changes around here,” he grunted. “Except you, of course.”
Ellie shrugged. “Circumstances changed us both, Dad, but I think it’s time to finally move on.”
He dunked a biscuit in his tea, considering her remark before looking up with a half smile. “So that’s what you think, eh... Still painting those pictures of yours?”
She nodded eagerly. “I’ve been given a bit of space in an exhibition soon. It’s not much, I know, but at least it’s a start. And what about you, how’s the new stallion you told me about, and Blue?”
“Doing good.”
“Had some nice foals this year?”
His eyes, still as bright a blue as hers, lit up his weathered face.
“The best. And Jake Munro has put his top jumping mare, Carlotta, to Dennis. Their foal should really be something special. You’ll have to come and see the horses when we’ve finished our tea.”
They fell then into a surprisingly comfortable silence and Ellie felt warm inside. She’d been right. It was time to make peace with the past and move on. Her dad knew it, too; she was sure of it.
When her tea was done, Ellie jumped up. “Let’s go check out this Dennis of yours. How’s he bred, anyway?”
Bob Nelson followed more slowly, easing out of the chair and pulling on his jacket.
“Irish Thoroughbred,” he said. “With a lineage as long as your arm.”
* * *
WHEN THEY REACHED the stable, they saw Blue first. His head was over the half door, as if he’d been expecting them.
As her dad ran his hand down the elegant horse’s face, the stallion nickered, lowering his head for his master’s caress.
Ellie thought of the morning Blue was born. Her mum had been so excited.
“Wake up, Ellie,” she’d called, bursting into her bedroom. “Come and see our new sire! He’s going to be the making of Hope Farm.”
“Some sire, that.” Ellie had smiled as she and her parents watched the newborn foal wobble around in the straw on legs that seemed way too long for its body. Even then, though, in the very first hour of his life, Blue had had a proud, almost regal look to him; the look of eagles, her mother had called it. And he still had it now. Ellie reached up to stroke the big horse’s silken coat, as well. He had been iron gray when she last saw him, and the years had turned him almost white now, but he still had that same pride and class he’d always had.
“He’s done your mum proud,” murmured her dad. “Done us all proud. One of his offspring is shortlisted for the British Horse Trials team, you know, and another two have been sold to America.”
“So Dennis has a lot to live up to, I guess.”
“Not really. He’d already proven himself competing in show jumping when I bought him. Cost me an arm and a leg. That’s why Jake Munro was so keen to use him.”
“Jake Munro,” Ellie repeated. “Do I know him?”
“You must. He’s quite a bit older than you, but he was brought up around here, at Sky View. He went away to work on a show-jumping yard in the South not long after he left school. Then he came back a few years later, after his wife left him and their twins, to set up a yard at home.”
“I know who you mean,” Ellie said. “I heard about that. He was married to Tamara, the singer. Wasn’t there some kind of tragedy?”
Her dad shook his head sadly. “Terrible business. His mother and one of the children were killed in a car crash.”
A heavy weight settled on Ellie’s heart. “That must have been awful.”
“He was in a very bad place for a while, I believe.”
“Like you, then, Dad.” She needed to say it.
For the first time in years, Bob Nelson looked his daughter in the eyes without withdrawing his gaze. His face darkened, and for one horrible moment she thought she’d overstepped the mark. Well, if he told her to leave, she’d just refuse.
“I have to go and let the pup out,” he said, turning away. “He’s been locked in all morning.”
She followed slowly as he walked across to the barn and opened the door. The black whirlwind that hurled itself on them took her totally by surprise.
“How long have you had him?” she cried, crouching down to welcome the half-grown sheepdog that covered her in sloppy kisses.
“Quite a while now. He was part of the deal for Jake Munro’s mare’s stud fee.”
“What’s his name?”
“I call him Shadow. Jake’s fiancée, Cass, has his sister, Puddle.”
At the sound of his name, Shadow raced over to greet his master, tearing around him in crazy circles before waiting eagerly to be petted.
Bob rubbed the backs of the dog’s ears. Ellie hadn’t seen the same softness in his eyes for years.
“I’ve got a few sheep,” he told her, as if compelled to justify his acquisition. “I thought it might be useful to have a dog. I’m going to train him.”
“And he’ll be good company for you,” Ellie added.
“That, too,” he admitted. “To be honest, I haven’t felt like having company for a very long time.”
Ellie seized her opening. “I know exactly how you feel, Dad. But maybe it’s time to look back and move on. That’s what I’m trying to do, at last. That’s why I’m here. And your friend, Jake, seems to have managed to come to terms with his past.”
“I guess meeting him is what got me thinking. He’s been through some bad times, too, but now he’s got his training and breeding business up and running, and he’s getting married again. He’s even gone into partnership with his dad, converting some barns.”
“Perhaps I should stay around for a while,” Ellie suggested on impulse. “Help you get things in the house straight again.”
Her idea met a blank wall of silence.
“Dog needs some exercise,” her dad eventually muttered, turning abruptly away.
Ellie’s heart fell as she watched his slightly stooped figure walk off, closely followed by the dog. Then he paused, looking back.
“Come and see my new ewes if you like,” he said. “They’re in the fell meadow.”
As they headed, side by side, toward the imposing mass of the Lakeland Hills, the pup raced ahead, glancing back every now and then to make sure his master was following. Ellie studied his black face with its white stripe between two of the friendliest brown eyes she had ever seen. He appeared to be smiling, Ellie thought, her head already whirling with ideas for a new painting.
The black-headed ewes were as nervous as wild deer, rushing to the corner of the paddock when they saw the dog. Shadow slunk down, belly on the ground, his eyes firmly fixed on the sheep.
Now that would make a great painting—the keen expression on the young dog’s face and the startled eyes of the cautious sheep.
“You’ve started training him already, I see,” she exclaimed.
Her dad shook his head. “No, that’s just natural. It seems to be bred into him to know how quiet you have to be with these Fell sheep. They’re as wild as the hills.