Chapter Seven

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The next day, Libby headed down the same track she'd ran on her first morning, determined to discover where she'd got lost. For fifteen minutes, she pounded along the track, regretting the four glasses of wine, but smiling at her daft little dabble with witchcraft.  

Or was it daft? She'd barely finished the luck spell before Zoe had come home, buzzing with excitement. Greg had taken her to dinner and although he did nothing more than kiss her cheek, Zoe said the sexual tension over dinner had been more palpable than the calories in her sticky toffee pudding. Maybe Maggie's love spell on the house did work.  

All she needed was a man to desire.

Up ahead, the roofs of several houses and barns came into view and Libby slowed. That had to be Gosthwaite Mills, the hamlet to the north-west of the village. She shouldn't be here. How had she missed the bridleway that went off to the north-east, taking her to the common? And where the hell did this track go? 

She had to be the biggest failure in the world. She couldn't even navigate the bridleways around the village. She slumped against a dry-stone wall, struggling not to cry. Obviously, the Good Luck spell hadn't worked.  

But with impeccable timing, a small dog came bounding towards her, a blur of black, brown and white fur. Libby's frustration evaporated as the Spaniel-cross scampered around her, its tail wagging furiously.  

'Dylan, heel!' shouted a male voice ahead of her. 'Sorry, but he's harmless.' 

Libby crouched down to pet the dog, smiling at the guy jogging towards her, the ridiculously good-looking guy jogging towards her.  

'You must be the new girl in the square, one of them anyway,' he said before flashing a huge smile. 'I'm Xander.'  

Xander? He was Tallulah's uncle, the fittest bloke ever. Chloe hadn't been exaggerating. Tall, with dark blonde hair, he had the same fabulous brown eyes as Tallulah. 

'Libby,' she said, shaking his hand. 

'Nice to meet you.' He flashed a friendly smile. 'My wife, Daisy, and I live over there.' He pointed to the house behind her on the left. 'See you around.'  

'Actually,' she said, cringing, 'I'm a little lost. I need to get back to the village but I've gone wrong somewhere.' 

'It's easy done, believe me. You've missed the shorter track back to the village. It's about half a mile back the way you came. This track goes back to the village too.' 

'Thanks.'  

He tipped his head to the side. 'Do you run every day?' 

'Usually.' 

'I'll pick you up at half-six tomorrow and show you around, if you like?' 

She hesitated. After already upsetting Jack and Grace's relationship through no fault of her own, she shouldn't get too friendly with a married man, especially one who looked like that. On the other hand, he wasn't acting remotely flirty and she'd be mental to turn down a tour guide.  

'Yes, please.'  

Libby jogged away, unable to stop smiling. A running buddy, she had a potential new running buddy. Her first piece of good fortune - surely, this was the spell at work. She knew for sure when her second piece arrived a few hours later.  

Sandra had gone to some show with Michael the feed merchant and Libby rattled through the morning jobs, singing along to the radio. With the horses turned out and the yard immaculate, she'd just sat down with a cup of tea and an illicit cigarette when her phone rang. She half-expected it to be Sandra, scolding her for smoking on the yard. It wasn't.  

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