Hopeful Hearts at Glendale Hall Read online

  Hopeful Hearts at Glendale Hall

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Prologue Hogmanay – One Year Ago

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Epilogue

  A Letter from Victoria

  Biography and List of Books

  Acknowledgements

  Copyright

  Cover

  Table of Contents

  Start of Content

  Hopeful Hearts at Glendale Hall

  Victoria Walters

  To Keshini, for your guidance and enthusiasm.

  Prologue

  Hogmanay – One Year Ago

  My boyfriend Rory and I returned to Fraser Farm just after midnight. We had celebrated Hogmanay at Glendale Hall, now an annual tradition for us.

  Two years ago, after watching the firework display there, we became a couple. Now, we had a son about to turn one. And I still couldn’t quite believe it.

  ‘Happy Hogmanay,’ Rory said as we sat down in the living room with two mugs of hot chocolate, the warmth welcome after the cold air in the grounds of Glendale Hall. Our son Harry slept peacefully in his carrycot, and the only lights on were the fairy lights on our Christmas tree in the corner. We clinked mugs side-by-side on the sofa.

  ‘I can’t believe Harry will be one this month, this year has flown by. It’s all been such a whirlwind. Who would have thought we’d be sitting here right now, like this?’ I got pregnant so soon into our relationship that I felt I’d hardly had time to breathe. I had moved onto Rory’s farm and had Harry, and it felt as if my feet had barely touched the ground. I had known Rory since we were teenagers but even so, the speed at which we had moved since that first night together had been lightning fast.

  ‘Not me, that’s for sure. I didn’t think I could ever get you into a pair of wellies, let alone to live on a farm,’ he said with a grin.

  ‘I certainly never expected to be the girlfriend of a farmer,’ I said, smiling back, but truthfully it was still something I was struggling to get a handle on. ‘Alcohol really has a lot to answer for.’

  Rory chuckled. ‘I thought it was my good looks and charm that led you to my bed, not booze. But, hey, I’ll take it either way.’

  ‘A combination of all of the above, let’s say.’

  ‘Well, for me, it was definitely how amazing you are.’ He turned to me. ‘I know I’m hopeless at anything romantic, blame it on growing up more interested in cows than women…’ He trailed off as I burst out laughing. ‘I didn’t mean it like that!’ he protested. Once I had controlled my laughter a bit, he continued. ‘But you know I love you, I hope. And I know I’ve mentioned it before but maybe you didn’t think I was serious… how about we get married? Become a real family.’

  ‘We are a real family,’ I said, taken aback. He had mentioned it before, usually in a jokey way, and our friends and family often made subtle remarks questioning why we weren’t married yet, but he hadn’t actually proposed. Not for real. Now he was. And I had no idea what to say.

  ‘You know what I mean.’

  I looked away. I thought about my friend Emily asking me in the summer about why we hadn’t got married, and the reason I had given her. ‘I still can’t imagine getting married without her,’ I half-whispered. My beloved mother. The only person I wanted at my wedding, and the one who couldn’t be there. I had told Rory how I felt before. I knew he understood. After all, both of his parents had died when he was just eighteen.

  ‘I know.’ Rory took my hand in his. ‘When you’re ready then… will you?’

  I met his gaze. Even though the past year had been scary, I loved Rory and Harry, and the thought of life without them was terrifying. I didn’t want to lose them. ‘Yes,’ I said, and he leaned in for a long kiss as guilt rested heavily on my chest that I couldn’t give him what he wanted.

  Not yet.

  Chapter One

  Glancing at the clock striking three p.m., I sighed. Despite getting up an hour earlier than usual at five a.m. in the chilly darkness of a December morning to try to get everything done, we were still running late for the wedding.

  ‘Please let me put your shoes on,’ I pleaded with Harry, kneeling on the floor in my long, red, silk dress as my son kicked his legs stubbornly out of my reach. ‘Why are you making this so difficult?’

  ‘Problems?’ My dad came into the living room then, dressed smartly in his grey suit, his grey hair combed neatly. He was ready at least.

  ‘Oh no, we’re fine,’ I said, through gritted teeth as I tried to hold Harry’s legs still. ‘It’s just that wearing shoes isn’t something we want to do today.’ I tried to smile at my dad but frustration rose up inside as Harry kicked his feet again. He was wearing a kilt in the Fraser clan colours and looked adorably handsome in it with his tuft of auburn hair. He would be two years old next month, and I hoped that the terrible twos weren’t rearing their head already.

  ‘Heather!’ Rory, my boyfriend, called out then, opening the front door. We could feel the draught instantly. ‘I can’t get Prince out of the paddock, it’s a two-man job unfortunately.’

  ‘I’ve got my hands full here,’ I snapped back, my patience evaporating.

  ‘Angus is busy, Heth,’ Rory replied. ‘If you ever want us to get to the church…’

  I closed my eyes for a moment. Sometimes it felt like I was constantly holding back a scream.

  ‘Let me do those shoes,’ my dad said quickly, scooting down beside me. ‘You go and help Rory, and then we’ll get going,’ he added gently. ‘And don’t worry, we have plenty of time.’ Even though it was a lie, I appreciated the attempt to stop me from worrying. He knew me too well.

  ‘Thanks, Dad, thank God you’re here,’ I said, standing up. ‘Fine, I’m coming!’ I called back to Rory. I walked out quickly, relieved that my dad had just come for his annual Christmas stay with us. There were just two weeks left until Christmas but there was a threat of snow and we didn’t want either of us stranded from the other so he had come now. It was hard enough to manage a toddler without having to help run a farm in the Highlands in winter, and on top of all that we had to attend a Christmas wedding as well.

  In the hallway, I pulled on my sparkly wellies, bought for me one Chri
stmas by Rory to try to ease the pain of me not being able to wear my beloved high heels to work anymore – but I still missed those heels. I threw on my thick parka over my dress, pulling up the hood carefully over my shoulder-length curly light brown hair and stepped outside, immediately shivering.

  The brisk cold air whipped around my face as I made my way to the horses’ paddock at the side of our red-brick farmhouse. The light was already beginning to fade in the late afternoon. Fraser Farm was perched on a hill in the middle of the countryside, miles from anywhere, and as such was often weather-beaten. Rory bred Highland cows here – gorgeous, furry ginger beasts who were as gentle as they were big. I didn’t really get involved in their care though. I’d lived on the farm for two years now but when I had arrived, I was a librarian in Glendale village, and it had been a sharp learning curve; one that I was very much still on.

  Love really did have a lot to answer for.

  ‘We’re going to miss the ceremony at this rate,’ I said when I walked into the paddock. Rory was waiting by the open gate, wearing a big coat and wellies like me, which hid the kilt I knew he had on under there.

  ‘Plenty of time,’ he said airily. That man was too laid-back for his own good.

  ‘Let’s just hurry this along,’ I said. ‘We can’t let them down.’

  ‘Okay, okay, come on then. We’ll try to lure the idiot out with an apple,’ he said, with a sigh. The horse in question, Prince, stood in the middle of his paddock looking at us stubbornly. Despite the fact it was freezing and sleet was on the cards later, he didn’t seem at all inclined to let Rory take him to his stable. He reminded me of Harry when he didn’t want to do something that I asked him to, even when it was for his own good.

  I joined Rory in the paddock and took the apple from him.

  ‘Okay. You hold the apple and try to coax him with it, while I pull on his lead, and between us hopefully we can shift him,’ Rory said, making his way to Prince, the large, silver horse, who watched him warily. Rory was trying to get me more used to our two horses, even trying to teach me to ride, but I was nervous. The one and only time I went horse-riding as a child, I fell straight off the horse, and since then have avoided them at all costs. Rory reasoned though that being on a farm it was useful to be able to ride in case we got snowed in or couldn’t use the quad bike, plus he had so much to do, it would help him if I took over some of the horses’ care. But reason didn’t help when it came to fear I had found.

  I followed Rory through the mud, gathering my dress up in one hand hoping it wouldn’t crease too much, my wellies squelching as I walked. I held out my other hand, the apple perched on my palm, willing Prince not to bite me. ‘Hi there, boy,’ I said nervously, showing him the apple. ‘Look what we have for you.’

  Rory took hold of his halter. Prince snorted with annoyance. I stepped back instinctively. ‘Come a bit closer,’ Rory told me patiently.

  I sometimes worried my presence here was more of a hindrance than a help, but Rory took it all in his stride. I envied his unflappable personality. Stepping forward, I held the apple higher so the horse could see it. He reached forward, and I quickly moved back.

  ‘That’s it, lead him out,’ Rory said, giving Prince a little tug in encouragement. I stepped backwards quickly as Prince started moving more keenly now, evidently deciding the apple was indeed worth leaving the paddock for. My hood slipped down, the wind pushing my hair back.

  ‘There we go,’ Rory said as I slipped through the gate. He quickly locked it behind us and I let Prince have the apple.

  ‘Good boy,’ I told Prince, reaching up to pat him as he chewed on the apple. Prince looked at me, his mouth opened, and with a thud he dropped the apple core on the top of my head. ‘Ow! That hurt!’ I cried. I heard a chuckle behind me, and spun around to see Angus walking past, an amused grin on his face. Angus was in his late seventies and had worked on the farm with Rory’s grandfather. He still lived in a cottage at the edge of the property, helping Rory manage the farm. His sister’s son Cameron also helped out at busy times. Other than them, it was just me and Rory out here, and I didn’t think Angus thought I was up to the job. At times like this, I had to agree with him. ‘Not funny,’ I said grumpily.

  ‘Ignore him. I’ll take Prince on through to the stables, you get everyone ready to go,’ Rory said, looking as if he too was trying to smother a grin.

  ‘That horse hates me,’ I grumbled, picking a bit of apple out of my hair, wondering why I’d bothered to wash and style it earlier. I couldn’t believe I shared a home with that animal.

  ‘I think he likes you – he was trying to share his treat with you,’ Rory said, a grin finally breaking out on his face as he walked off with the horse.

  Tutting, I set off back to the farmhouse, thinking I really needed another woman around here for support sometimes. I tried to ignore the pang of missing my mother that followed that thought. Once inside, I took off my coat and hurried to the hall mirror to apply some lipstick. I sighed as I looked at my reflection, the wind having ruffled up my hair. I wouldn’t look as put together as the rest of the wedding party, that was certain.

  ‘Okay, let’s get these off,’ Rory said, hurrying in behind me, taking off his wellies. He noticed me then and when he stood up, he whistled. ‘You’re simply stunning. If only that dress was more practical to wear around here all the time,’ he said rather wistfully. I couldn’t help but wonder how quickly he might want to take it off me later.

  I smiled, somewhat mollified after being dragged out to help with the horse. ‘I wish it was, there are only so many combinations of jeans and jumpers I can try.’ I sighed. I didn’t think I’d ever fully accept farm ‘fashion’. I turned around as he took off his coat, revealing his kilt in its full glory. My eyes couldn’t help but fall to his muscly bare legs. There was at least one perk of being married to a farmer. ‘You know, you really should wear that kilt more often,’ I said as I slipped on my fur stole. Rory was taller than me even when I wore my heels, and he had strawberry-blonde messy hair and a rugged beard. I still couldn’t believe that the boy who used to tease me mercilessly was now the man I slept next to every night. But somehow a spark had been ignited three years ago that had yet to dim even if lately we didn’t have much time to appreciate it.

  ‘I’d say the same but I’m not sure wellies go with that dress,’ he said, giving me an appreciative look up and down. I took my wellies off, replacing them with my four-inch silver heels, and picked up my clutch bag.

  ‘Well, I better enjoy getting to leave the wellies off for one day then,’ I replied, stepping closer. There were two plus points about weddings – the chance to dress up and let your hair down. I hadn’t done either in what felt like forever. Rory reached towards me, his lips coming closer, when suddenly footsteps came bounding around the corner. We drew apart with a rueful smile. Interruptions were constant around here. ‘You all ready?’ Rory asked Harry who was followed by my dad, and was thankfully now wearing shoes.

  ‘We’re ready, aren’t we, Harry?’ Dad said, grabbing his coat from the hook.

  ‘Thanks Dad. Look at this handsome boy,’ I said, scooping Harry up into my arms. He was a such a mini-me of Rory. ‘How late are we?’ I asked Rory over his head. Our life was happy but tiring, there was always something to fix, and we seemed to forever be playing catch up. I was almost always tired.

  ‘Only ten minutes,’ Rory replied, shrugging on his kilt jacket.

  ‘Okay then, let’s get out of here before we find another problem to deal with,’ I replied. I’d had to use almost a whole tube of concealer to cover the black circles under my eyes but at least my lack of sleep meant we wouldn’t miss our friend’s wedding.

  We hurried out of our farmhouse into our jeep, and drove down our gravel driveway and through the gates into the countryside. Our farm was in the middle of nowhere and a twenty-minute drive into Glendale village. I looked at Harry in his car seat behind me, smiling with excitement. It wasn’t his first wedding; last year he had
attended not one but two weddings – my best friend Beth had married Rory’s younger brother Drew, and then her mother had married her long-time companion John. But this would be the first he could walk at.

  This time, we were on our way to a Christmas wedding, one that the whole village of Glendale had been buzzing about for weeks, if not months. Partly because it meant that our handsome minister would be off the market, but mostly because both Brodie and his bride-to-be Emily were such lovely people, and everyone was really happy for them. I had seen their courtship from the very beginning after Emily came to stay in Glendale for Beth’s wedding, and basically never left, and I knew they were meant for each other.

  ‘Looks like the whole village has come out for this,’ Rory said as we drove into the High Street, passing by not only the Glendale Hall shop run by Beth and her family, and Emily’s bakery, but also our very own farm shop, which was another string to our very full bow. Even though it was a Saturday, all of the shops had been closed for the wedding as no one wanted to miss out on the celebrations. We headed for the church where Brodie was minister, and about to be married in himself, and managed to find a space near to the village green.

  ‘This is the first wedding I’ve been to at this time of year,’ I said as I climbed out of the car. ‘And I have to say, I’m not looking forward to sitting in a cold church.’

  ‘Just think of the party at the Hall afterwards,’ Rory said as he helped Harry out of the car, not wanting me to wrinkle my dress, bless him. ‘I can’t wait for a beer, I’ll be honest.’

  ‘You two are supposed to be focusing on the union we’re about to watch,’ my dad scolded us as he got out in his smart suit, but his eyes twinkled. ‘What would the minister say?’

  ‘He’d probably say hold a beer for him,’ Rory joked, lifting Harry up as we set off, joining the throngs walking into the church. We paused outside the church and I gave Harry a big kiss. ‘Be good, you lot, I’ll see you afterwards,’ I called with a wave as I walked round the side of the church towards the vicarage where Emily was getting ready.