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Olivia didn’t let him finish. ‘What stroke? Linda said nothing about a stroke.’

      Joel blew out a breath. ‘Didn’t she?’ His tone was flat. ‘Well, maybe I shouldn’t have either. I dare say the old man doesn’t want it broadcasting to all and sundry.’

      ‘Hey, I’m not “all and sundry”!’ exclaimed Olivia, her efforts at conciliation forgotten at his words. ‘I’m his daughter. Don’t you think I have a right to know?’

      Joel’s thick dark brows arched indifferently. ‘I suppose that depends on the kind of relationship you two have had over the years,’ he remarked mildly. ‘How long is it since you’ve seen him?’

      Olivia huffed. ‘You know exactly how long it is. I wasn’t exactly encouraged to come back after—after we split up.’

      Joel regarded her for a brief compelling moment. ‘Is that supposed to be an excuse?’

      ‘No.’ Olivia felt herself colouring again. ‘It’s the reason why I haven’t seen him. I have phoned, and written letters. I’ve never had a reply.’

      Joel moved his shoulders in a rueful gesture. ‘I didn’t know that.’

      ‘No?’ Olivia wasn’t sure whether she believed him. ‘Well, why would you? I dare say you hoped you’d never set eyes on me again.’

      Joel shook his head. ‘You’re wrong, Liv. I got over what you did years ago. I moved on. I got married. I had a son. I realised we were too young when we got married. Neither of us knew what we really wanted out of life.’

      Olivia had to force herself not to turn and stare at him now. He had a son! Of all the things he might have said, she realised that was the least expected. And the most painful, she acknowledged as the bile caused by too many cups of black coffee rose sickly in the back of her throat.

      She had to say something, she thought, aware that she was taking too long to make a rejoinder. And, dammit, why should she care if he had a child? It wasn’t as if she was the maternal type. But, all the same, it hurt. It hurt deep inside her. Like a wound that had been partially healed that was suddenly as raw and painful as the day she’d lost their son.

      ‘Well—good,’ she said at last, hoping he couldn’t hear the thickness of her voice. ‘But, even so, I wish Linda had warned me.’

      ‘I imagine she was afraid that if you knew the truth you might change your mind about coming,’ observed Joel shrewdly. ‘Ben Foley isn’t the best of patients. Without Dempsey’s help, the farm would have gone down the drain long ago.’

      Olivia was surprised. ‘Martin?’ she said curiously, speaking of her sister’s husband. ‘Does he work at the farm as well as at the garden centre?’

      ‘They let the garden centre go,’ replied Joel, accelerating past a tractor. ‘They live at the farm now. It seemed the most sensible solution in the circumstances.’

      Olivia was totally confused. When she’d gone away, Joel had virtually been running the farm for her father, and it had been understood that he’d take over when Ben Foley retired. That was one of the reasons why her father had been so angry with her when their marriage broke up. He’d depended on Joel. A lot. She caught her breath suddenly. Surely he hadn’t punished Joel because she’d walked out?

      They turned a bend in the road and suddenly it was possible to glimpse the sea in the distance. Redes Bay gleamed in the early-afternoon sun, shimmering like a mirage in the desert. Bridgeford was just a mile from the sea as the crow flies. A little further than that on the twisting roads that honeycombed the area.

      ‘You must be hungry,’ Joel said, glancing her way again, and Olivia managed a faint smile. But the truth was she felt too knotted up inside to care about an empty stomach. Though there was no doubt she’d probably feel better if the amount of coffee she’d consumed wasn’t sloshing about inside her.

      ‘I expect Linda will have a meal ready for you,’ he continued. ‘She still makes the best steak and kidney pie in the neighbourhood.’

      ‘Does she?’ Olivia felt even queasier at the thought of all those calories. In recent years she’d become accustomed to eating sparingly, always watching her weight for any fluctuation, living on tuna fish and what her sister would call rabbit-food. The idea of sitting down to a lunch of steak and kidney pie horrified her. Even empty, as she was, she knew she’d never get it down.

      ‘It looks as if you could use a few extra pounds,’ remarked Joel, slowing at yet another crossroads, and Olivia wondered at his perception. It was as if he’d known exactly what she was thinking.

      ‘Oh, does it?’ she said, her incredulity giving way to resentment. ‘I suppose you prefer women with more flesh on their bones.’

      Joel chuckled. He actually chuckled, and Olivia was furious. ‘You could say that,’ he agreed, and she badly wanted to slap him. She knew she was looking good—by New York standards, at least—and it was mortifying to have him laugh at her.

      ‘And I suppose your second wife was everything I’m not,’ she flung at him angrily, uncaring at that moment how peevish she sounded. ‘Well, where I come from women care about their appearance. We don’t all want to be milch cows!’

      Joel sobered. ‘No, I think you proved that when you got rid of our baby,’ he retorted harshly, and she realised that for the first time she’d caught him on the raw. His jaw clamped shut for a few moments, as if suppressing another outburst, but when he spoke again he had himself in control. ‘Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything.’

      Olivia swallowed, remembering she’d promised herself she wouldn’t say anything if she saw Joel either. But she couldn’t stop herself. ‘For the record,’ she said unsteadily, ‘I didn’t get rid of our baby. At the risk of repeating myself, I had a miscarriage. Believe it or not, these things happen!’

      Joel’s tanned fingers tightened on the wheel and she saw his knuckles whiten at the pressure he was putting on them. ‘Whatever,’ he said flatly, but she knew he didn’t believe her now any more than he’d believed her before. ‘We’ll be there in a few minutes. I’ll drop you off and then I’ve got to get back to college.’

      Olivia blinked. ‘To college?’ she echoed blankly.

      ‘In Newcastle,’ he agreed, without elaborating.

      ‘You’re at college?’ she persisted, staring at him incredulously.

      ‘I work at the university,’ he corrected her drily. ‘I gather Linda didn’t tell you that either.’

      Olivia’s jaw dropped. ‘No.’

      In actual fact, Linda hadn’t mentioned Joel at all. That was why she’d been so surprised to see him at the airport. She’d assumed she’d have to meet him sooner or later at the farm and that Linda was being tactful by putting off the evil day.

      ‘Have I shocked you?’

      Joel had relaxed again and Olivia knew she had to say something or run the risk of appearing envious. She’d never gone to university, although she had eventually taken an economics degree at evening classes.

      Not that she’d ever needed it. By the time she’d graduated, she’d already been working in a large London estate agency. Her aptitude for the job, and the fact that she got on so well with the clients, had accelerated her climb up the corporate ladder. At age twenty-six, she’d already been earning a high five-figure salary, with added perks like her one-bedroom apartment in Bloomsbury.

      Of course, she reflected, she’d given it all up when Bruce Garvey asked her to marry him. Despite her success at work, her life had seemed empty, and she’d found she missed her friends and family and the life she’d had in Bridgeford. She’d even missed Joel, though she’d been sure she’d never forgive him for walking out on her.

      ‘I expect your parents were pleased when you left the farm,’ she said at last, hoping she

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