Page 59 of The Christmas Fayre on Holly Field

‘Pen said you’re from Narberth originally. Is that where they live?’

‘Yep. Still there. And my brother, his wife and their kids live just around the corner from them. It’s a bit chaotic when we’re all together for Christmas lunch.’

‘Good. I’m glad you’ve got somewhere to go. I would hate to think of you on your own. I was going to suggest you come to us for Christmas dinner – if you are still in Foxmore.’

‘I’ll still be here,’ he said, catching her eye, and for the second time that evening he was lost in the depths of her gaze. ‘I’ll visit my parents for the holidays, but I will be back.’

‘Promise?’

‘I promise.’

Harriet seemed flustered. ‘To be honest, I didn’t imagine you would stay in Foxmore as long as you have.’

‘Someone’s got to make sure you don’t renege on your challenge.’

‘Is that the only reason you’ve stayed? The challenge ends at Christmas,’ she reminded him. ‘There’s no reason for you to stay after that.’

‘Yes, there is.You.’

Bonfire Night was forgotten. The crowds, the noise, the cold, all faded into the background. Harriet filled his senses, and the world around him ceased to exist.

A terrific bang overhead, followed by a shower of sparks, brought him abruptly back to earth, and he glanced up at the sky.

‘I think the fireworks have started,’ he said.

Harriet held his gaze. ‘They certainly have,’ she said, and he drew in a sharp breath as he realised what she meant. She said, ‘Would you like to walk me home later? You could come in for a nightcap.’

He searched her face. ‘I’d like that.’

‘We’d better find the kids,’ she said, and the charged atmosphere dissipated, leaving him wondering what had just happened. Did walking her home simply mean escorting her to her house and having a quick drink as a thank you, or did it mean something more?

God, he hoped so. Once again, they had come so close to kissing, and his pulse was racing so fast that he thought he might have a heart attack. He was breathless with wanting, and when Harriet slipped her glove off and placed a warm hand into his cold one, the contact sent heat surging up his arm and into his chest.

With the fireworks lighting up the night sky, he turned his gaze towards the heavens, thinking they were nothing compared to the fireworks going off in his head. Because Owen realised something quite extraordinary: he was totally and utterly bewitched. And he loved it!

Guilt was an emotion Harriet was quite familiar with: she suspected most mothers were. She had felt guilty when Declan had left, as though she had been the one to blame for his leaving. She felt guilty about not being able to grant her children’s every wish, even though she knew it would be bad for them if she did. She felt guilty about not making them eat more vegetables, allowing them to stay up later than their bedtime, and a hundred and one other things. Guilt also hit her hard about having to leave Etta on the days she had to work, and she beat herself up about not being able to take the dog for longer walks at this time of year during the week because it was too dark in the evenings. On the other hand, she hated herself for having to drag the children out to go on those walks, because there was no way she was leaving them on their own in the house, even for half an hour.

And now here she was, giving herself something else to feel guilty about – namely, her rampant desire to take Owen to bed.

Was it such a good idea to invite him back to her house this evening? She had practically spelled it out to him that there was more than a nightcap on offer. Her children would be there, for goodness’ sake – not that she’d do anything while they were still awake, but that was beside the point.

But, good grief, did the fact that she was a mother mean that she had to behave like a nun for the rest of her life – or until they had moved out, at least? And when would that be? The way house prices were rising, they might still be living with her when they were in their thirties!

Would she be a bad mother if she made love to Owen, knowing that he probably wouldn’t be in Foxmore forever? That there was little chance of this being any more than a fleeting romance?

She didn’t want to make a habit of sleeping with just any man who took her fancy, but neither did she want to live without love for the foreseeable future. Declan didn’t have the same qualms. From what Harriet had heard, he was embracing single life with complete abandon and bedding any woman who was daft enough to be seduced by his smooth patter and dimples. But what was good for the gander wasn’t necessarily good for the goose, and if Declan didn’t give two hoots about their children, Harriet most certainly did. There was no way she was going to subject them to a series of ‘uncles’. Therefore, if she was going to kiss Owen, she had better make sure the kids never found out. Which also meant not telling anyone, especially not Pen, who would be delighted for her but couldn’t be trusted to keep the news to herself.

‘Is it over?’ Bobby asked, after a particularly loud volley of bangs, the sky fading to black as the last firework died.

‘It looks like it,’ she said, surreptitiously removing her hand from Owen’s. ‘I think they’re going to light the bonfire now. Shall we watch?’

‘I want a hot dog,’ her son insisted.

‘Me too,’ Sara chirped. ‘And can we have some doughnuts? Pleeeaaase?’

If there had been a firework display last year and her children had asked the same question, Harriet would have had to refuse. Money had been incredibly tight back then because she had been saving so hard to buy them Christmas presents and hadn’t had any spare cash for treats like this. But this year, she had already bought some gifts, and although she still had a way to go, she was confident she could get the rest of them without bankrupting herself.

‘Go on, then,’ she said, although she wouldn’t have anything herself because she still had to be careful with money. ‘Can I get you anything?’ she asked Owen.

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