LITMIR.BIZ

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and meaningless depravity. It had all come to a head when he was in the middle of a particularly gruesome and high-profile case. Will had looked at the man he was being paid a fortune to defend and realized with sudden clarity just how badly his ambitions had been compromised. He had come into law to defend the innocent and ended up doing the exact opposite; his client didn’t deserve to walk free. And with that thought, he had just walked away, out into the fresh, clear beauty of the autumn afternoon.

      He’d never gone back, despite the threats and pleas of his superiors. “At least finish this case,” Roy Wallis, the senior partner, had begged him, but Will had turned a deaf ear. He was done. Done with listening to lies and defending those who didn’t deserve it. Done with the darker side of mankind. And that was when he had remembered the holiday all those years ago and realized that the silence of the Lakeland hills might still the buzzing in his head.

      The private doctor he’d been persuaded to see had diagnosed a breakdown caused by mental exhaustion, but Will had known that wasn’t true. He was just sickened by humanity; that was the truth of it. When he’d handed in his notice at Marcus Finch, Roy had pleaded with him to reconsider, offering paid leave, but Will had been adamant. He needed more than just time to breathe; he needed a whole new life. And so he’d come back here to Little Dale, and found to his relief that it had hardly changed since he was a boy.

      He’d been drawn to the window of the real estate office as he strolled along the street on that first day here, reliving his childhood memories. The picture had seemed to jump right out at him and he’d stopped to read the advertisement. Craig Side, a whitewashed farmhouse with gray stone outbuildings set way up the fell, with fifty acres of land and rights to graze the fell for as far as a man could see. Isolated, totally peaceful and everything he wanted.

      Will Devlin wasn’t usually one to act on a whim. He thought things through, planned his every move...but not this time. He’d booked a viewing that very afternoon and made an offer right away, his head brimming with plans. The barn and outbuildings would make ideal holiday rentals. Money was no problem for now, but it wouldn’t last forever and if he never went back to law then he’d need some kind of income. And he wasn’t going back to law. Ever.

      Within six weeks he had finalized the purchase and hired an architect to start drawing up plans. Only when he moved into the farmhouse had he realized he might have jumped into things too quickly. He should have waited awhile, taken time to appreciate the peace and solitude before putting his business plans into action.

      Excited by the prospect of a walk, Max leaped up at his master in his usual unruly manner, appearing to smile as his pink tongue lolled from the side of his mouth, exposing sharp white fangs. The dog’s attitude was what had drawn Will to him in the first place. Max loved everyone and everything, albeit a little too enthusiastically at times.

      “Come on, boy,” Will said, increasing his pace. He regretted not changing into more suitable footwear; the dampness on the vegetation was beginning to soak through his smart leather shoes. No matter, he decided. He wasn’t going back now, and there was no one here to notice, anyway. He’d just throw the shoes away if they got too badly damaged.

      For the next fifteen minutes, Will climbed the steep slope, hearing only the heavy sound of his breathing. He stopped for a moment to rest his aching legs, leaning forward with his hands on his knees.

      “Max,” he called. “Here, boy...come here.” The big dog raced up to him, collapsing onto a patch of rough grass. Will smiled, pleased that, for once, the dog had done his bidding. “Why, you’re no fitter than me, boy,” he teased.

      He could see the low huddle of buildings at Craig Side way below him now, surrounded by the bright green of the home fields. Farther down, at the base of the valley, the lake sparkled in the spring sunshine as if ten thousand diamonds had been scattered on its surface.

      Cool air filled his nostrils and he took a gulp of it, savoring the silence even as he realized that it wasn’t silent at all, not really. In the city there was always sound, sound that you no longer noticed after a while, the busy, constant hum of traffic, the honking of a hundred angry horns, the buzz of human voices. And here there was sound in the silence, too, different kinds of sounds: the scream of a buzzard, the song of the wind as it whispered and wailed, and the bleating of the rough fell sheep that wandered the steep slopes in their constant quest for food.

      He could see a flock of them on the hillside, trickling downward with two dogs to guide them. He stopped to watch, intrigued by the way the dogs worked as a team, dropping to the ground and then creeping forward again before rushing to turn the flock if they headed in the wrong direction. It was all overseen by the shepherd, who gave low whistles and shouted commands in a loud, clear voice that carried across the distance in the thin air.

      Calling to Max, who was now intent on digging beneath a rock, Will headed closer, watching the sheep and dogs, and ignoring the dull ache in his calves and the discomfort of his damp feet. He realized, suddenly, that the shepherd was a woman, a tall, straight-backed woman who strode confidently across the rough and rocky ground, a long crook in her hand. She wore blue skinny jeans and sturdy brown boots, and a thick blond braid hung almost to her waist. There was something about her that moved him. He supposed it was the timelessness of the way she strode the earth, commanding the dogs with confidence and certainty just as her ancestors must have done before her.

      Ahead, the ground fell away, dipping steeply. As he headed down the slope, Will lost sight of the woman with her dogs and sheep. With a lurch of disappointment, he turned back to call Max again, surprised by his own eagerness to watch her work the dogs some more. Come to think of it, he hadn’t felt much eagerness or excitement about anything of late, not even buying and then moving into Craig Side; that had just felt like a necessity. The communication between the woman and her collies was something else, though, something he had never experienced before. Strangely, it humbled him.

      Another yell at Max, and the dog finally gave up his frantic digging and raced to catch up, so excited by the unfamiliar scents and sounds that, all reason lost, he bounded right past Will and down the slope, leaping over the stream in the bottom of the shallow ravine.

      “Max! Come here!” he called, his voice echoing. The big dog paused and looked back at him, wagging his plumed tail as if about to obey...until a high-pitched whistle sounded and the sheep let out several bleats. Then, totally ignoring his master’s urgent commands, Max took off up the slope on the other side and disappeared from view.

      Will’s heart sank when he heard the woman’s angry cries. He started to run, ignoring the burning in his lungs and the ache in his calves.

      “Stupid dog,” he groaned, unable to hear anything but the rasping of his own breath as he headed for the patch of clear sky at the top of the steep incline.

      She was standing farther up the hillside, bright blue eyes blazing against her lightly tanned skin, two bright spots of angry color in her cheeks. “Get out of it!” she yelled, madly waving her crook. “Get away!”

      Following her gaze, Will saw Max leaping toward the sheep, oblivious to everything else, barking with excitement as they started to scatter. The woman gave a long, low whistle and her two sheepdogs sank to the ground in total obedience, staring up at her with adoration. Will felt like a fool, totally out of his depth and unsure of what to do. He wasn’t used to feeling inadequate—angry, perhaps, and sickened by life, but in control...always in control.

      “Max, come here,” he tried to yell, but the words couldn’t seem to get past his throat. Taking a gulp of air, he tried again as the sheep began to flee in a dozen directions. “Max, here! Now!”

       CHAPTER THREE

      BEFORE THE CRAZY dog appeared, Chrissie had been feeling good, gazing fondly down on High Bracken, glad to be almost home with the gathering done for another year.

      An unexpected rush of nostalgia had brought tears to her eyes as she remembered all the times she’d herded the sheep with her dad. He used to point out things of interest as they traversed the huge

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