Kellow Dairy had not changed in her absence and she was glad of it. The familiar routine of the empty wagons returning to the dairy after the safe delivery of their loads, pulled by weary horses keen for hay and water, formed the comforting, familiar routine that made up her childhood. And that is how she felt, like a child seeking comfort from the ones she loved most and who knew her the best. She entered the yard, and although she was acutely aware of the workers turning their heads as she passed, strangely she did not care. She could bear the humiliation of being known as the result of rape, if it meant she could see the one person she needed the most right now.
Daniel Kellow was talking to one of the drivers, his hand unconsciously stroking the horse’s neck as he spoke, when he saw Grace approaching over the man’s shoulder. His hand paused. He said something to the man, who looked over his shoulder at her and immediately stepped aside. Grace’s throat felt raw with unshed tears. Whilst her mother had been her counsellor and emotional comfort throughout her life, it was her father who had been her mentor and protector. She had always felt safe with him and it was his protection and his common sense she needed. How would he see her now? The daughter who had spurned all the love he had given her or the cuckoo in the nest that finally showed her true colours and was no different to the selfish man who had sired her.
Daniel watched her approach. His brows were a little more grooved than she remembered and a faint shadow lingered beneath both eyes. Yet in his eyes there was a ghost of hope and when he widened his arms, a sob escaped her as she ran into his embrace.
Chapter Eighteen
Her father did not press her to talk. Perhaps that is why she had sought him out as his calm ways and few words gave her the space and time she so desperately needed. Instead he silently led her from the yard of prying eyes and took her home. Her mother saw them approaching and ran out to greet them in the lane. Her steps slowed as she approached and saw that Grace was crying. Taking Daniel’s lead, she did not question her, but hugged her tightly. Grace saw her parents’ exchange of worried glances and took comfort in it. Her parents often did this, their love and knowledge of one another was so deep-seated that words were not always necessary. The depth of their love wrapped Grace in a blanket of comfort and reminded her that she was part of that too.
Her mother stepped back and wiped the tears from her cheeks for her.
‘The meadow is looking beautiful today, Grace. Why don’t you and your father go and see it before the sun sets?’
Grace nodded thankfully and her father led her away.
* * *
Grace smiled. The meadow was in preparation for winter, with much of its vibrant wildflowers now past their best and lying dormant. Even so the common toadflax and autumn hawkbit remained defiant against the misty mornings and colder evenings, their scattered bright yellow blooms a dash of vibrancy in the long grass. Bright red rosehip seeds and blue black sloes tempted the wintering birds from the surrounding hedges.
How many times have I run through this meadow of wild flowers? thought Grace. From the age when the flowers were tall enough to reach her shoulders, to now when they barely brushed above her knees. She had spent many hours whiling away the day here, until her mother’s voice carried to her on the breeze and called her home.
Gradually, Grace’s story unfolded. Her father listened, occasionally asking a question for clarification, but nothing more. She did not hold back and at times she found it difficult to explain why she had not told Talek sooner about her mounting concerns. From the advantage of hindsight, from the distance of time, it seemed the logical thing to do, to share your concerns with the man who was employing you, sharing his home with you and who had placed his trust in you. But life is never black and white. Her lack of knowledge of the industry and the people involved, her deep-seated desire to not rock the boat and hide away at Roseland, all played their part. It made a potent mixture where duplicity could thrive and secrets fester. And then there was Amelia, whose hopes, dreams and disability made even the clearest choices difficult to unravel. And then there was her own secret she was trying to hide. Yet despite everything, it would have been better to be honest from the beginning, as then her heart would not hurt as much as it did now.
‘Talek cannot bear to look at me. I’ve betrayed him and he will never forgive me.’
Her father stopped walking and scanned the horizon, his gaze following the irregular cottage roofs of Trehale, as they huddled around a single church tower.
‘Do you feel that you have betrayed him?’ he asked.
‘I do, but it was not to hurt him.’
‘Then why did you?’
‘To save him from unnecessary hurt. If I had told him and it turned out I was wrong, I would have placed doubt in his mind about his business partner, which was a relationship that had worked well until now. And later, if I had told him about Amelia’s part in it, I would have betrayed Amelia.’
‘So you did it with the best intentions?’
Grace nodded. Her father looked at her.
‘Then why are you hurting so much?’
Grace blinked. ‘I don’t understand?’
‘You did what you did because at the time you felt it was the right thing to do. So why are you so upset?’
‘Because . . . I have hurt him. Because I cannot bear the thought that he thinks so badly of me. Because he loved me and wanted to marry me and I have ruined everything.’
‘But part of the reason he thinks badly of you is because he does not know the whole truth . . . that you didn’t tell him because his sister begged you not to.’
‘I can’t tell him that Amelia knew. I promised her I wouldn’t.’
‘But at least he will know the truth.’
‘No. I won’t come between a brother and sister.’
‘You are already. Amelia placed you there.’
Grace picked a flower and turned its bud in her hand. The yellow blunt petals splayed out in a desperate bid to catch the sun.
‘I won’t break my promise to Amelia,’ said Grace.
Her father opened the gate and they walked through, turning to lean upon it after he had fastened it.
‘Talek doesn’t know Henry also threatened to expose the real reason you left your family. Why didn’t you tell him yourself? Henry would not have had a hold over you if you had told Talek.’
‘I left here because I couldn’t bear people looking at me and knowing how I came into this world. It was not something I wanted Talek and Amelia to know.’
‘I thought telling the truth was important to you. It is the reason you ran away from us, because we had not.’
‘I was angry . . . confused . . . lost . . .’ She stared at the weathered wood beneath her fingers. Faded, cracked and gnarled, she wondered how many conversations it had overheard over the years. What tales it could tell if it could only talk.
‘I’m sorry.’
Grace looked up, surprised by her father’s apology. Although it was what she had longed to hear several months ago, it was not why she had returned home now. Her father selected a blade of grass and ran it between his fingers.
‘We thought it was best not to tell you that I was not your real father. I love you as much as if you were mine. I feel it in here . . .’ he touched his chest with the side of his fist ‘. . . but if we had been truthful you would not have had to experience the pain of learning the truth.’
Grace threaded her arm through his and leant her head against his shoulder.
