across the land, watching while the others work their fingers to the bone.’
When his voice broke, it took a moment to compose himself before he could go on. ‘I couldn’t do that to them, Adam, and I won’t do it to myself. I think I’ve known these past few months that my time on earth is short, but it’s so hard to think of leaving Vicky and our children. But I’ll have to! Dear Lord, somehow I’ll have to.’
When he now turned to look at Adam, the latter saw the sorrow in his eyes and the bitterness in the hard edge of his mouth. ‘You above all people know I can’t do it,’ Barney confided. ‘I can’t not bring in the harvest or go out in the tractor when the earth is just waking, seeing the dew sparkle like jewels on the ground and the night creatures running before me as I plough the furrows.’
As he spoke his eyes lit up. ‘The joy of my life is bringing in the sheep, collecting the apples from the branches where Vicky can’t reach, tending the land from first light to darkness. It’s in my nature, it’s in my blood, Adam – you know that! If I can’t do it, my life might just as well be over.’
As he stood up to leave, Barney placed a hand on Adam’s shoulder. ‘This is just between you and me, old friend,’ he said quietly. ‘No one else need ever know.’
Slumped forward, shocked by Barney’s news, Adam was lost for words. There was no man on this earth could change Barney’s mind once it was made up.
He knew Barney better than most, apart from Vicky who knew him like she knew herself. And he was aware that, whatever Barney decided to do, he would not embark on it without a great deal of thought and much agonising.
Fixing his gaze on the clumps of mud he had earlier walked onto the path, Adam nodded. ‘I shall be here if you need me,’ he said simply.
It was little enough, he thought. But at a time like this, God help him, what else could he do?
THROUGHOUT THE FOLLOWING week, Barney carried on as usual, though sometimes when he was out in the fields alone, he would take time to rest, not because he wanted to, but because he was tired, and ill, and stubborn as he had ever been.
He had always loved the onset of winter, with the crisp clean air coming up the valley to pinch his face and make him feel alive, but on this particular day he found it all too much. His whole body ached, and for the first time in an age, he had felt the need to wear an overcoat.
‘Things aren’t the same, are they, old fella?’ He wrapped his arms round the thick hairy neck of his four-legged pal. ‘I thought I had years to go yet. I’m not old, only in my mid-forties, and I still have ambition in me. I thought I might be going on the greatest adventure of my life, taking the whole family to America and starting all over again. But I’m useless now, and growing more useless by the day.’
His voice carried a sense of irony. ‘In horse years, you must be as old as the hills.’ He gave a wry little laugh. ‘But summat tells me you’ll still be here, long after I’ve gone.’
Drawing away, he went to the back of the cart and took down a nosebag of hay. After he’d tied it round the horse’s ears, he walked to the top of the hill, where he stood and gazed around him, imprinting that familiar, magnificent panorama in his mind, in case he might never see it again.
Lost in memories and regret, he did not hear the footsteps drawing closer. ‘Hello, Barney. Vicky told me where I might find you.’
Startled, Barney swung round to find Dr Lucas there. ‘I was out walking,’ he told Barney. ‘Being that it was on my way, I thought I’d call in at Overhill Farm and have a little chat with you, but you’d already gone.’ He glanced at the cart, which was loaded down with branches, half-trees and all manner of debris, and wagging a finger at Barney, he said, ‘I sincerely hope someone helped you on with that load?’
Barney didn’t answer. His mind was still with the doctor’s greeting, and he was horrified. ‘You say you’ve been to the house?’
‘I called in, yes.’
‘You haven’t told Vicky anything, have you? She doesn’t know yet.’
‘No, Barney. I haven’t told anyone. You specifically asked me not to betray your confidence, and I won’t. I can’t.’ Raymond Lucas knew how badly Barney had taken the news – and who could blame him? ‘It’s you I’m concerned about. Twice now, over the course of the past week, I’ve seen you from a distance, standing up here, on the edge of this very hill.’ He frowned. ‘Today, I thought I might come and chat awhile.’
Barney couldn’t help but chuckle. ‘You thought I might throw myself over the edge, is that it?’
Dr Lucas shook his head. ‘I would never think that of you, Barney. Whatever obstacle life puts in your way, I know you’ll face it head on.’ He smiled. ‘Given the same disturbing news, some people might well throw themselves over the edge. But not you.’
Looking down, Barney nodded. ‘Don’t think I haven’t considered it,’ he said truthfully, kicking the ground. ‘Because I have.’
The other man said nothing. Instead, he walked back to the cart with Barney, and listened to what he had to say.
‘It’s the family I fear for,’ Barney confided. ‘I don’t know how to prepare them. I know I should tell them, but I don’t want them to know. We’ve allus been close – too close, mebbe, because that makes it all the more painful. As for my Vicky …’ He sighed heavily. ‘She’s been my reason for living ever since the day I first saw her.’
When his voice began to waver, he stopped, composed himself and when he was ready he looked up at Dr Lucas. ‘I’ve searched my heart and I’ve turned every which way, to think of how I might break the news. Then I imagine what it will do to them, and I can’t … I just can’t do it!’
They walked on in silence for a moment, the doctor filled with sadness, and Barney hurting like he had never hurt before. ‘I’m not sure yet how to deal with it all, but I will,’ he said softly, as though talking to himself. ‘I’ll find a way!’
Not for the first time, Raymond Lucas felt helpless. In latter years, there had been significant strides forward in medicine, but as yet, there was no way to renew a heart that was damaged beyond repair. ‘I’m sorry, Barney. I hope you know that.’
Barney slowly nodded his head. ‘So am I,’ he said, and then he had a question. ‘If I had come into the Infirmary like you wanted, could you have made me healthy again? Would I have come home, being able to do all the things I’ve allus done?’
The other man shook his head decisively. ‘No.’
Barney smiled. ‘Thank you. That’s what I thought.’
Dr Lucas had heard the exciting news, about how the Davidson family were off to America. ‘Have you decided what to do about Mr Maitland, and his offer of taking you all to Boston?’
‘I’m working on it.’ Barney climbed onto the cart, took up the reins and reminded the other man about his promise. ‘Don’t you worry your head about that,’ he said firmly, but not disrespectfully. ‘It’s my business and I’ll deal with it my way. Your part is to say nothing. That’s our agreement as I understand it. Am I right, Dr Lucas?’
‘Yes, you are, Barney. But you mustn’t leave it too late before you tell them. It would not be fair – not to you, or to them.’
That said, he waved goodbye and took the path to the forest, while Barney went the long way round, through the valley and down by the river.
He wasn’t ready to go home just yet.
He had a lot to think about.
By the time he got back to the farmhouse, Barney was his usual self.