The Passing Bell Tolls for Thee

24 Farm Profits

April walked across the yard and into the near sheep field. She wondered why only sheep were raised on the farm. Can't Oakton grow wheat, or lettuce or something? she asked herself. With a snort, she realized she was blaming the sheep for something they had no control over. She wanted to think of ways to add to the profitability of Oakton, if she inherited, which seemed less likely as winter days passed.

She crossed the field to the yard farthest from the Lodge. She walked around the three empty cottages, two with three bedrooms and one with two. The cottages were charming but in need of some work and hadn't been lived in since the pandemic. "We can probably raise more sheep with one more shepherd," she muttered. Smokey pricked his ears. She patted his head. "Not a job for you, good boy, the shepherd will have his own dog. I'll keep you." Smokey wagged his tail.

She walked around the cottages again, looking in windows, noting where paint was needed, and other repairs. The cottages don't look too bad, she thought. If I don't hire more shepherds, maybe I can rent them out. I'll talk to Bill. Maybe he can recommend a new head shepherd for when he leaves. Perhaps Lucas.

She turned in a circle and looked over Oakton. The fields, the sheep quiet but for a few baas, Chico 's pale, white shape walking across the distant field. The bare oak trees, the Lodge, weathered and sturdy. Smokey, the dog who calmed her panic. Her dog. Her farm. Her home.

My dog, I love Oakton, I do, she thought. I love it here. But something's wrong, I feel it. I've got to fix it, and I don't even know what it is.

She zipped her jacket against a cold wind as she headed to the barn. Just as she reached the doors, Geoff came out. She smiled at the sight of him.

"Hello there," he said. "You're a pleasant sight this cold day." The cold had brought color to her cheeks, and her blue eyes and dark hair, with the red jacket, brought a pop of color to the wintry landscape.

She smiled, trying to find something to say. Geoff was carrying his shirt, having changed to work clothes to tend to the ewes. He was shivering in the cold.

"Thank you. You've been busy with the ewes. You're cold. Come in the house and clean up." 

As they neared the kitchen door, Ben walked out of The Lodge and got in his car. April froze, hissing.

Geoff looked from Ben to her, eyes narrowing. "Something wrong, April? Trouble with Ben?"

She took a deep breath. "A little." She looked up at Geoff, realizing he was about 6'1'', perhaps eight inches taller than her. "I didn't realize you were so tall." She took a step back."

"Too tall or too short?"

She grinned. "Just about right, actually. Ben's manic over the ewes, and Nico dead, and stuff. He grilled me for hours though I didn't know anything. I told him, 'no more,' and he lost his temper. I reminded him he wasn't Master here, and I wouldn't be held to account by him. Mrs. Bigwood heard the yelling and came in." She paused, looking up at Geoff, who was standing tantalizing close. "He got over it, and I left."

Geoff looked at Ben's car, as the engine purred, and Ben drove off. "If he gives you trouble, hire another solicitor." He looked at her and reached out to touch her, but stopped, as his hands were grimy from the barn. "You need to protect your interests." He hesitated. "And perhaps, yourself."

"Thanks. I'll talk with the solicitor. I'll do that as soon as it's necessary." They watched Ben's Mercedes take the road to Pelham.

"Sooner," Geoff said.

"Want to stay for dinner?" she asked, hoping for more of his company. She shouldn't, for her position was not certain, and she had heard he was dating a nurse from Bath. Nor had he shown any interest in her beyond work. "Mrs. Bigwood made shepherd's pie. Very delicious."