‘Yeah, cut to the chase, Nate. You’ve got news and refused to tell me over the phone earlier. I’ve been worrying all day.’ Laurel tugged at the collar of her silvery top. ‘So put me out of my misery and just tell me that the BAS have declined to recommend the site for funding. Then I’ll go home and drown my sorrows with a bottle of white wine and a frozen lasagne.’
Nate pressed his lips together and frowned, before sighing and taking a long gulp draw of his ale.
‘You’re actually killing me, Nate! Come on, let me have it.’ Laurel pulled her hair over her shoulder and ran her fingers through it.
He debated whether to make her work for it, to keep her in suspense, but her big eyes were pleading and desperate.
‘Alex has been an absolute nightmare to get hold of. I’m sorry it’s taken this long. I called him again this morning, three times actually.’
‘Yes?’ She scowled at him. ‘Nate, seriously, I’m going to lose my shit in a minute. Just tell me.’
‘Okay, they’ve approved the site. They’re recommending Little Willow for funding.’ Nate grinned at her, but she just stared back. ‘You alright? Did you hear me?’
Laurel snapped her mouth shut.
‘Nate.’ Her voice was quiet. ‘You promise you’re not messing with me? I don’t think I could take it.’
His smile widened. ‘I’m not messing with you, Laurel. Funding is pretty much all but guaranteed with the BAS endorsing the site.’
Her throat bobbed in a swallow, and she pressed her fingers to the corners of her eyes, blinking rapidly. Was she nearly crying? He’d wanted to see her face when he told her the good news, but this was not the reaction he’d expected.
‘Laurel? Laurel, what’s the matter?’ He leaned over and touched her elbow lightly. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Oh god, I’m sorry.’ She puffed out a breath and gave him a watery smile. ‘I’m just so relieved.’
‘Good, I thought you were upset for a minute then.’ He leaned back in his chair, also relieved.
‘It means I don’t have to scrimp and save and worry. It means funding for the site is practically guaranteed, which means I could possibly, possibly scrape enough together to buy Hibberts’ fields. It means I can relax for a few minutes.’ Laurel’s eyes sparkled.
‘This calls for celebration! Angela,’ he called across the pub to the barmaid. ‘Champagne!’
Laurel laughed. ‘You think they have champagne here?’
‘Angela! Scratch the champagne! Prosecco instead!’
Angela scowled at him from the bar and he gave Laurel a wide grin.
She took a deep breath and placed her hands on flat on the table. It certainly seemed like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. He should have realised she would have panicked, and he winced.
‘Hey, I’m sorry for making you worry. I just wanted to tell you face-to-face.’
‘Don’t worry about it. Oh, thanks, Angela,’ she said as Angela plopped a couple of red wine glasses and what passed for ‘celebration sparkle’ on the table. He grabbed the bottle to pour and she moved their existing drinks to the side.
‘To Little Willow Farm,’ he said, holding his glass up to her. ‘And to you, for making it all happen.’
Her smile was infectious as she clinked her glass against his. He took a sip of his slightly warm prosecco and grimaced as it went down. It wasnotnice.
‘It’s a huge weight off my mind, Nate. Without this funding,’ she sighed. ‘I just don’t know how the farm would survive.’
He looked at her carefully. She was tired, and stressed, and no matter how much makeup she put on, she couldn’t hide the exhaustion in her eyes. When did she ever do anything for herself?
‘You need a break, Laurel. You were going on about Jack and Rebecca going away, but what about you?’
‘God, I can’t remember the last time I had a whole day off, let alone a break. It’s so hard not to worry all the time.’ She sipped her wine. ‘The farm means so much to me, I can’t let it fail.’
Nate leaned his chin on his hand. What must it be like to be so intrinsically linked to a place? Little Willow Farm was a part of Laurel Fletcher, just as she was part of it. But she still needed a break.
‘Hey, my uni friends have an annual barbeque. It’s next weekend. You should come.’
