The Little Dale Remedy. Eleanor Jones
all about.
ROSS SAW MADDIE arrive home, watching with interest as she climbed awkwardly out of her small car and hurried to the front door, dropping her car keys on the way. Was she putting on the slight limp to try to get his sympathy? Well, it wouldn’t work on him. Then again, she hadn’t actually seen him, so it couldn’t be for his benefit. And come to think of it, she didn’t exactly look as if she was blooming with health, either. She was quite thin, her expression was strained and there were dark shadows under her eyes. For all he knew, she’d been lying about having paid three months’ rent. Perhaps she was a squatter after all—on drugs, even. Judging by her put-together appearance and nearly new car, though, he had to admit that did seem to be a bit of a long shot.
The first thing he’d done that morning was call the solicitor, but that had been a waste of time. As far as they knew, the cottage was empty; probate had been granted and now it was just a matter of waiting for the regulatory period of time before he was actually handed the deeds. When he explained about the woman who appeared to be living there and had insisted that she’d paid rent, they promised to look into it and let him know in due course.
So now it seemed all Ross could do was wait. But he would do whatever was necessary to get his daughter what she was entitled to, that was for sure. And if he found out the woman was lying, then he’d kick her out right away, within the law or not.
Reluctantly, he went back to fixing up the chicken run. “Won’t be long now, chucks,” he told the tawny brown chicken and her brightly colored cockerel companion. They watched him from their small coop with bright, beady eyes.
It wasn’t until later, as he gently placed the chickens into their new enclosure, watching with a satisfied smile as they eagerly pecked at the grass, that he realized he hadn’t seen Meg for a while. She appeared suddenly from the direction of the cottage. “She’s called Maddie and she’s twenty-six,” she announced.
“You stay away from her.”
Ross’s voice sounded loud in his ears, and he placed a hand on Meg’s shoulder, surprised at his own reaction. “Sorry, Nutmeg, but we don’t know her and you should stay away from strangers.”
Totally unperturbed by her dad’s outburst, Meg just smiled. “I told her she had to give us our house back.”
“Well...good for you,” Ross said. “But in the future, stay well away from her. Hopefully she’ll be gone soon.”
Meg stared at him with her huge, honey-colored eyes... Jenny’s eyes. It made his heart hurt.
“She offered me a cookie, but I didn’t take it.”
Ross ruffled her curly hair. “Good for you, love. Now go and get washed—your supper will be ready soon.”
* * *
AS THE ORANGE sun slipped behind the dark mass of the trees at the edge of the property, Ross sat by Meg’s bed, relating his usual bedtime story about elves in the forest that helped injured creatures. Tonight, it was a hedgehog that had become trapped when some silly teenagers had started a campfire. All his stories were aimed at encouraging his daughter to care for animals and learn how to behave in the countryside. As her eyes began to droop, he lowered his tone, eventually leaning down to kiss her forehead before tucking the plaid blanket around her shoulders. She’d had the slightly threadbare blanket since she was a baby, and she wouldn’t sleep without it.
Suddenly feeling weary himself, he decided to have a shower and then go through some job leads. He’d saved up enough money to bring Meg back home, but he needed to get work soon or they would be forced to move on. There would always be work for him in Scotland, but moving back there was the last thing he wanted...for Meg, at least.
The small knock on the door came just as he emerged from the shower. “Coming,” he called, quickly rubbing himself dry and pulling on jeans and a blue check shirt. He was still rubbing his dark hair with a towel as he opened the door. When he saw the woman from the cottage standing outside, he dropped the towel to his side. “Oh,” was all he could manage. “What do you want?”
* * *
MADDIE PUSHED PAST HIM, stepping determinedly into the surprisingly tidy trailer. It was small, of course, but it did seem cozy and cared for. There were even flowers on the table.
“Meg’s touch,” Ross said, following her gaze.
“It seems very...” She looked at him, feeling awkward as she noted his open shirt, revealing a hard, tanned, muscular torso. She cleared her throat. “Comfortable.”
He stared down at her, his expression revealing nothing. “What did you expect?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly. “I had no expectations.”
“Be honest,” he urged, his voice deep and slightly harsh. “You expected us to be living in squalor alongside the chickens and the dog. Well, yeah, Red lives here—he deserves to—but as you can see, the chickens have their own place.”
At the sound of his name, the huge dog padded into view. Ross dropped a hand to caress his ears. “He likes to sleep near Meg...he adores her.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you had a daughter?”
Ross shrugged. “Why would I? It has nothing to do with you.”
Suddenly, Maddie found it difficult to breathe. She’d built herself up to this moment, wanting to discuss the situation like two mature adults. But his hostile demeanor was making that seem impossible. It wasn’t just about his attitude, though; it was also the raw masculinity he exuded. Was Ross aware how awkward he made her feel? she wondered. She had never met anyone so comfortable in his own skin, so...sure of himself.
Determined not to let him get to her, she tried to ignore her discomfort. “Why did you tell me it was your cottage?” she asked bluntly.
For a second, he stared at her as if she was stupid. “Because it is.” He hesitated. “Well, to be honest, technically it belongs to Meg.”
“Then how come I’ve been able to rent it, and you didn’t even know?”
He moved toward her, and she forced herself to stand her ground, refusing to take the backward step that would have given her space to breathe. He held her gaze, his dark eyes narrowed. “Perhaps you haven’t paid any rent. Perhaps it’s just a con.”
Anger lent Maddie the strength she was losing. “I already told you—I’ve paid fifteen hundred pounds up front, and if you call the leasing agent, she’ll back me up. I think you’re the con man. You just want somewhere to live for free, and you thought the cottage was empty.”
She could tell by his face that she’d gotten through to him. “I think you’d better leave,” he said, his voice rising. “And stay away from my daughter.”
“Dad?” The tiny voice came from behind them. “What’s going on?”
They swung around simultaneously to see Meg standing outside her room, eyes bleary and hair tousled with sleep. One arm was draped across Red’s huge back, his head the same height as hers. At the sound of her voice, he gently lapped his tongue across her cheek.
Ross’s attitude changed at once. “It’s okay, Nutmeg. You go back to bed. This lady has just come to talk to me about the cottage.”
“She’s called Maddie,” Meg said. “And she has cookies. Have you asked her why she’s got our house?”
“It’s a mistake,” Maddie said gently. “Just a silly mix-up. Go back to bed like your daddy said, and we’ll try to sort it out.”
The little girl did as she was told, putting her hand across her mouth to smother a huge yawn. The big red dog padded along behind her, settling himself down in her bedroom doorway as if keeping guard.
“I’ll