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Chapter Text

Jenny Alderson coasted her bicycle down the hill and into the town of Darrowby, her dog Scruff racing beside her. She knew that if she got there in a few minutes she’d be right on time.

It was at first hard for Jenny to explain to herself why she was feeling this way. She never had before. It was a tingling feeling inside when she thought she might see him again. Her heart rate rose when she thought she might speak to him again. And in her dreams she imagined what it would be like to kiss him and she got light headed. Jenny knew she had it bad. She was in love.

Jenny talked with Doris about falling in love. And while Doris was able to explain a lot, Jenny longed for opening up to her sister who had not only fallen in love but enjoyed a good marriage as the outcome of it.

It was hard to open up to anyone about her feelings and all the details about him that she had collected in her heart because things were complicated, to say the least. It was wartime, the whole world upside down. And Jenny was in love with a soldier. She saw firsthand the worry in her sister’s eyes when her husband went away to war, not knowing if he’d return. She saw the longing of Helen when James was there on leave but knowing he’d have to go away again so soon.

It wasn’t easy to be in love with someone off fighting in the war. But Jenny rationalized that her situation might be different. The man she loved lived here and wasn’t overseas.

Then there was the other matter of an age difference. It hadn’t bothered her any but wondered what he might think once she told him her true feelings. Surely he’d understand because he viewed her as the woman she had grown up to be. Helen saw how she had changed and matured; why not him?

The biggest problem in Jenny’s mind was that he didn’t know how she really felt about him. Neither did anyone else and she didn’t know how to breach that subject. She did know that she’d take one thing at a time and it would all fall into place. She’d make sure of it, because once she set her mind to something, she’d see to it that it would happen.

Jenny came rolling to a stop as she neared the bus stop. Her sister Helen and her brother-in-law James were standing by, with baby Jimmy in the pram. Jenny waved hello and got off her bike. Then she saw him get off the bus, uniform and all. Was it the uniform that originally started the spark of love inside of her? Or was it his good sense of humor? Maybe it was the way that he treated her as an adult, an equal. Whatever it was, there was that feeling again. Jenny’s hands felt clammy against the handlebars of her bike as she pushed it closer to her family.

“Hello Tristan!” she called out.

Tristan turned to Jenny and smiled. “Hello Jenny! What do I owe the pleasure of this welcoming community?” He bent down and gave Scruff a scratch behind the ears.

“I was just coming into town to drop off this parcel for Helen. She left it behind earlier,” Jenny replied. It wasn’t the full truth but it worked for the situation.

Helen took the parcel from Jenny. “I could have gotten it tomorrow, you needn’t have brought it all the way down. But thank you Love.” She gave Jenny a hug. “Since you’re here, why don’t you stop in for a brew?”

Jenny nodded. She looked over at Tristan and suddenly felt as if she couldn’t think of what else to say. So she stepped in place beside Helen, who was pushing the pram, and James and Tristan walked behind them.

All through tea Jenny couldn’t help but wonder why she never noticed Tristan in this way before. She hadn’t counted on her heart flip flopping the way that it did back in the church and it hadn’t stopped since at each thought of him. She wished she could be alone with him to talk it over, instead of listening to James’s description of their newest escapade with the devilish cat Georgina.

Soon enough it was time for Jenny to head home. After bidding her family goodbye, she glanced at Tristan who waved back at her. She raised her hand to wave goodbye in return and off she went, her heart giddy with the anticipation of seeing him again.

Chapter Text

The next day, with Helen working up at Heston Grange, Jenny and Helen took out their horses to the pasture. Helen led the old mare and Jenny took Joan.

“She’s full of energy today,” Helen chuckled, noticing how Joan trotted along and raised her head, sniffing the breeze that carried the scent of the Dales along.

Jenny nodded. “She loves to go out in the pasture so she can get running around with no one stopping her.”

They reached the pasture and let the horses off their leads. Candy moved forward a few paces and started to graze on the summer grasses, while Joan took off in a canter along the stone walls.

Helen and Jenny smiled as they watched the horses. Despite there being a war on, all felt safe and good in the world when watching the peaceful happy scene in front of them.

“Makes me feel as if I could never leave, that I’d be daft for doing so,” Jenny commented.

“The Dales are in your blood.”

Jenny nodded in agreement. “I’m glad that you and James live close by and you can still come back as often as you can.”

“It’s worked out well after a few bumps in the road. But this is me home. I couldn’t imagine never coming back,” Helen said, thinking of all the soldiers who had left their farms, homes, and families, hearts full of hope for a better future only to never come home at all.

Jenny leaned back on a stone wall and got herself atop of it. Helen soon joined next to her. It seemed easier for Jenny to open up to her sister when she didn’t have to face her directly. “How’d you know you were in love with James?” she asked, a question to Helen that was seemingly out of nowhere.

Helen looked over at Jenny, a slightly quizzical expression on her face. “What brought that question on?” Jenny just shrugged, so Helen went on, “When you know, you just know. You feel it, in here,” she said, putting a hand over her heart.

“But you thought you were in love with Hugh first. You almost married him. How’d you know that it were James you really loved?”

Helen sighed. It wasn’t always easy to explain matters of the heart, especially to someone as curious and close to her as her younger sister. But she appreciated the times when they could have a heart to heart discussion as the time they spent together didn’t usually have calm times with just the two of them. “I guess I knew when I realized that all the qualities I admired in James I didn’t see in Hugh. James and I were just friends first, not like the friendship I had with Hugh, but a friendship I cultivated as an adult, not a kid playing with another. I could trust James. He’s honest and kind and determined. And that trust and admiration grew into my love for him, and I’m lucky he felt the same about me.”

Jenny grinned, “I hope that it’ll be the same for me.” She looked at Helen who was looking at her curiously, so she added, “With finding true love. I just hope he loves me much as I do him.”

Helen chuckled, “You have plenty of time before you start thinking of marriage. You have years ahead of you, so don’t go worrying your head about it.”

“I’m not, I’m just planning for me future. It’s important. Even after I get married I’m still coming back here to work, just like you,” Jenny said, trying to be reassuring to Helen, if having one less person working on the farm might be concerning her.

“Well then, if you’re already planning on getting married, what if your husband already has a farm he wanted to bring you to live and work the land?” Helen teased.

“He doesn’t,” Jenny said in matter of fact manner.

She sounded so convinced that who she was talking about was real that it took Helen back. “He?” she questioned, raising an eyebrow. “Are we talking about someone in particular?”

Jenny started to feel a blush creep up her cheeks. “I’m not talking about anyone!” she said, trying to defend herself. She slid down off the stone wall and started walking away.

Helen knew that Jenny always had a flight or fight response when something was troubling her. Concern spread through Helen’s face as she thought of what type of trouble Jenny had gotten herself into to create this type of response. “Jenny, don’t get upset, I were just asking! I thought we were open with each other. If it’s an actual boy we’re talking about I’d like to know!”

Jenny shook her head. She didn’t understand why she felt like crying. “It’s nothing! Just forget about it!” she exclaimed, before hurriedly walking back toward the house.

“Jenny!” Helen called out, starting into a sprint. She stopped following as she saw Jenny break into a run so as not to face her father who was working on a tractor in front of the house.

Richard Alderson watched as his youngest daughter ran past him, beyond the house and off into the hills surrounding their house. He thought he saw what might have been tears on her cheeks but assumed it was nothing. Jenny didn’t cry. She just got mad when she was upset by something. What troubled him more was watching his older daughter walk into the drive with a look of deep worry on her face. “What’s the matter Love?” he asked, wiping the grease from his hands on a rag.

Helen shook her head in slight disbelief and looked off into the distance where she saw Jenny run off to. “I think our Jenny’s in love.”

Chapter Text

Richard Alderson looked to his older daughter. How much she reminded him of his late wife Joan! She was concerned over Jenny and her feelings and he knew that if Joan were there she’d know what to say to comfort her troubled daughters. However she was not, so he’d have to make do with himself. A man of few words, he decided to not make a mountain out of a molehill. “She’ll come back. You know how bloody stubborn she is. If she sets her mind to something she’ll get it.”

“That’s what I’m worried about Dad,” Helen said, “We don’t know who she’s talking about! He could be anyone, maybe a soldier in town. We don’t know what he’s like and she’s still so young, even though she thinks she’s an adult.”

“Aye, but there’s no stopping our Jenny,” Richard replied. He put down the rag, picked up a wrench, and bent down to continue work on the tractor.

Helen placed her hand on her father’s shoulder. “Dad. Are you not even the littlest bit concerned for her?”

Richard looked up at Helen. “Course I am. She’s too hot headed to talk sense to her now. We’ll talk to her when she comes back and cools down.”

Helen sighed but knew he was right. It still worried her though and for the rest of the day’s work, the thought of Jenny being out in the Dales by herself — or worse yet, maybe with her secret lover — weighed heavily on her mind.

Jenny walked alone, following the stone walls that were hundreds of years old. She wondered how many women walked along the same walls as she did with similar troubles to hers. Surely, she thought, she couldn’t be the only one with a lovesick heart.

Jenny knew she was being childish, running away from her family when they questioned her on her personal life. She supposed that she too would have done the same as Helen. But being the one asking the questions and being the person answering the questions were two completely different things.

She thought of Tristan, how he could easily talk his way out of any situation. She wished that she could do the same. It would be better than running away.

As Jenny walked along, alone with only her thoughts, she contemplated on when she knew she was first in love with Tristan. It was in the church when they first met again since his return home. She was glad then that she wore her new green suit that she bought when she went shopping with Doris. She felt like a lady in that. Trousers had their place but there was nothing like a skirt that made Jenny feel more like a woman than a child.

She had asked Tristan then how many times he had fallen in love and to her delight he only made a joke about it, that he was in love with his camel. It was a funny feeling, that sense of relief that washed over her at that moment. She knew then that she had a chance.

Later on, when the men left for the Drovers, it was another opportunity for her to spend time with Tristan, blending in with the crowd so to speak, to get away from the watchful eye of her sister. Jenny now knew that Helen had no clue that the real reason why she went to the Drovers was to be with Tristan.

When she made her way inside, she stood behind him, smiling as he, without questions, bought — no, he ordered — her the first ale she ever drank in a pub. It was then that she knew he saw her as a woman and no longer as the little girl he left only two years prior.

Jenny kept walking, farther and farther away from home. At this point she reasoned that it was just best to stay away from home until she knew that Helen would have been picked up by James to go home. Then she’d go back. She’d have to; her other option was to run away for good and become a mysterious lost girl (no, a woman!) — Jenny corrected herself — who lived as wild and free as the animals that originally roamed these hills and dales.

Going back home was the sensible thing to do. She had work to do at home, and she couldn’t let her father down. He needed the extra hands.

So Jenny stopped walking and looked around from her vantage point. Standing alone on top of a large hill, Jenny breathed in the fresh air that smelled sweet and homelike to her. It confirmed in her mind that she couldn’t leave the countryside for a city. It wasn’t in her blood to do so.

How big the sky looked from there, the blue color starting to mix with oranges and pinks as the sun set. The grassy hills and valleys looked expansive and Jenny realized at that moment that she would probably not be home before dark.

Quickly then she hurried her pace, hoping to get back just after dusk, when it was dark enough that she could take her dad’s ladder, lean it up against the back of the house and get back into her room through the window without being detected.

Jenny climbed up and over a stone wall, knowing it would be the fastest way to get home, but missed noticing the hole right beneath it on her descent. Her foot sunk down into it, causing her to twist her ankle and fall on her face.

Cursing under her breath, Jenny winced as she sat up and assessed the damage. She untied her boot, her hands covered in mud as she looked at her ankle. It didn’t look broken and considering she was all alone, she had no choice but to soldier on back home. Quickly pushing her boot back on, she bit her bottom lip, trying to ignore the shooting pain she felt going up her leg.

Jenny started to limp back but the more she walked the worse her ankle felt. The road seemed to be the best option for her at this point as it was flat and in the rare occasion that someone was driving by she could possibly flag them down to give her a lift home.

She was resilient but knew her limitations. Stupid as it may have seemed to run away, it cleared her head and got her mind on other things. Jenny’s only regret was spraining her ankle.

Slowly she made it down to the road and knew she had to rest her ankle. Jenny highly doubted that she’d even be able to get her boot off as the swelling was increasing. She sat down on the ground and leaned against a stone wall. She hadn’t realized how tired she was until she stopped moving. Her eyes felt heavy and she decided to close them, just for a minute.

Chapter Text

James pulled up to Heston Grange, happy to retrieve his wife after a long days work. He had hoped he’d look more presentable but he dealt with a angry bull with a hoof abscess. He checked in the his appearance in the car’s rear view mirror, straightening his tie and trying unsuccessfully to wipe off the smeared mud on his cheek.

As he saw Helen coming out of the front door of the house, he started to get out of the car to open up the door for her.

“Don’t bother, I’m fine!” Helen called out. She opened up the passenger door and slid in. “What happened to you?” she asked, looking at James’s muddy outfit and mussed hair.

“A run in with a bull. Hugh’s actually. There was an abscess in its hoof but it’s taken care of now,” James explained as he pulled the car away from the house.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Helen worriedly looked him over, making sure he was still in one piece.

“Hugh, or the bull?” James asked, feigning seriousness. Helen looked at him with a look that he knew better than to mess with, though he knew that she was only teasing him in return. “The bull of course. No, well, actually, it wasn’t the bull that got me… I kept my eye on him, making sure he wasn’t coming after me, but I forgot to keep my eye on where I was walking. I tripped over a bucket,” James said sheepishly.

Helen let out a laugh of relief. “Is that all? You gave me a fright!”

James nodded, “I think I pulled something in my back as I twisted myself around though. What I really need is a nice long hot bath.”

Helen looked over at James with a twinkle in her eye. “Alright, but don’t you dare use all of Audrey’s bath salts! People will start thinking you’re a lady coming round the corner if they don’t see you. And if you do-“ she said, playfully pointing her finger at him as if she were scolding him.

“I won’t! I won’t!” James laughed.

The couple shared the moment of mirth together. It felt good to let out some anxieties through humor and focusing on something other than their troubles; out of fatigue they drove home the rest of the way quietly.

Helen laid a hand on James’s arm, resting it there. She debated asking him earlier but thought it best to open up to him. After all, she always encouraged him to share his thoughts and troubles with her. “Have you noticed anything different with Jenny?” she asked, and after seeing the puzzled look on his face clarified, “With the way she’s been acting?”

James shook his head. “I can’t say I have. Is anything wrong?”

Helen sighed. “It’s probably nothing serious. Nothing like brucellosis. She’ll be fine.” Her convincing tone surprised herself. If only she could be as sure as she sounded.

It didn’t surprise her that James hadn’t noticed. After knowing him as long as she had, even before they got married, Helen knew James’ track record for being observant about relationships was not impressive. His business partner and housekeeper’s relationship for one. Helen thought she saw what was the beginning (or the middle of a grand love affair for all she knew) between the two, but when she brought that up privately with James, he said he hadn’t noticed anything that was out of the ordinary.

Helen loved her oblivious husband though and knew she could reach out to others in their household for advice on what to do, such as Tristan, who knew all kinds of ways to weasel information out of people without them even realizing.

The couple pulled into the driveway and parked the Vauxhall. After greeting the others at home and realizing Audrey had already left for her night shift, Helen and James excused themselves; James off to his bath and Helen retrieving Jimmy from his godfather, who was, Helen noticed, a little sad to give the wee one up.

Helen held Jimmy close as she took him upstairs. Jenny had grown up, not seeking her advice in every big matter as she had used to and it saddened her inside, feeling as though she had lost a part of her little sister. Helen knew one day Jimmy would do the same, but she had years before he got to that age. The time she had with him at this age, fully dependent on her, was fleeting but for now he was hers and she would treasure every moment.

At the end of her shift, Audrey peddled her bike back toward Darrowby. It was an uneventful night, everyone compliant to the rules. She felt good doing her part but longed for the day when the war would be over and this job a thing of the past.

As she biked along the dark roads, she squinted as she saw something - or someone - near the side of the road. She moved closer until she confirmed that it was indeed a human. Getting off her bike, Audrey reached for the torch and turned on the dim lights pointing it at the person. “Jenny Alderson? What on earth are you doing out here?” she asked in disbelief.

Jenny stirred from her sleep. While not comfortable nor restful, she had managed to nod off. The next thing she knew there was a light pointing at her face. She opened her eyes, quickly squinted, and then turned her face away. “I sprained me ankle on me way home. It’s swollen so I had to stop. I’ll be on me way now,” she said, trying her best to rise to her feet, before falling back down due to the terrible pain in her ankle.

Audrey rushed over and knelt by the girl’s side. She was grateful for the first aid training she received during the first war. “That does look bad. You need to stay off that ankle before you do more damage to it. Walking on it will only make it swell more. It’s closer to Skeldale here than it is to your home. I’ll go back and get the car and drive you home.”

Trepidation filled Jenny. If Audrey went back to Skeldale, she would surely tell Helen that she had found her sister, looking a total fool on the side of the road - dirty, tired, and injured. It would just go to prove how childish she had been. “Please don’t bother!” Jenny exclaimed. “Really, I think I can walk.” She tried standing up again and her determination won out over the pain of standing on her sprained ankle. She took a step forward and winced in pain, grateful for the cover of darkness to hide the expression on her face.

Although Audrey was worried about what had caused Jenny to come this far from home in the first place and how she got a sprinted ankle, she remained silent on the matter. What was important right now was to take Jenny home where she could get the proper care that she needed. Being out on the road at that time of night was dangerous. Accidents involving people getting hit by cars was on the rise due to the blackout regulations. She stood up and crossed her arms, showing the same determination that Jenny showed. “You won’t get far on that ankle. You wait here and I’ll come back for you.”

Jenny’s will power slowly waning, she silently nodded and fell back to the ground. “Just, please, promise me you won’t tell Helen. I know she thinks I was wrong for running away, but I couldn’t stay there. This will just prove to her that she’s right.” Her voice started trembling as she tried to explain what had happened without divulging all the personal details, but made it sound more mysterious and confusing than anything. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, maybe her emotions still running high. In any case, from whatever cause, Jenny’s eyes filled with tears and she quickly wiped them away, but not before the motherly Mrs. Hall noticed.

Audrey got down next to Jenny and place her hand on Jenny’s hand. “What were you running away from?” Jenny just shook her head and didn’t reply. Audrey pulled her closer into a hug and and lovingly smoothed Jenny’s windswept hair away from her face. “I don’t know what it is but I do know that Helen loves you. And whatever it was that’s bothering you two, she much rather know that you’re home, safe and sound.”

“I can’t talk about it with her. She’ll just get upset,” Jenny cried. Audrey stayed quiet, waiting out the tears that fell from the girl’s face and the sobs that came along with them. “You wouldn’t understand anyway. You don’t know what it’s like to love someone and not know how to tell them.”

“Oh Jenny,” Audrey whispered in her ear. The words she wanted to say couldn’t come out and she felt a lump in her throat. Her tears were threatening to spill over but she had to be strong, for Jenny’s sake. She wanted to tell Jenny that she knew exactly how she felt, not just back when she was Jenny’s age, but now. The longing was fresh in her mind and heart, but her words of advice were locked away with her feelings, because her love too was a secret one.

Eventually Jenny’s cries subsided and she slowly pulled away from Audrey’s embrace. She wiped her face with both of her hands to remove any lingering tears and looked at her friend. “I think you’re right, it’s time for me to go home.”

Audrey nodded. “I’ll go get the car. I promise I’ll be as quick as I can be.”

“And you won’t tell Helen? Not tonight. I want to talk to her tomorrow myself.”

Maybe it was an unspoken mutual agreement, and partially against her better judgement, but Audrey replied, “I won’t.” She stood up, brushed the dirt off of her trousers, and turned to get her bike.

“Thank you,” said Jenny from behind her.

Audrey turned to her, and with an understanding smile that was barely seen because of the darkness of the night, rode off into the dark.

Chapter Text

Audrey arrived back at Skeldale after what seemed to her to be one of the longest rides back home. Though she was troubled over Jenny’s ankle, she knew it was nothing more than a sprain that needed time and rest to heal. Mostly she was troubled over the fact that the girl was out by herself in the dark on the side of the road, unable to get anywhere because of her injury. As a mother she didn’t like the thought of that. She didn’t know what caused Jenny to run away in the first place but knew it must have been something that caused an overreaction from either one or both of the Alderson sisters.

Audrey was torn on whether or not to hold to her promise to Jenny. She was loyal to those who she loved, and while she loved Jenny and wanted her to be happy and have the girl’s trust, at the same time Audrey knew that if she was Helen, she would want to know what had happened to her sister.

By the time she got back to Skeldale she had decided to come to a compromise between the two. She wouldn’t tell Helen tonight but would make sure she told her in the morning just the simple details of what had happened. Helen deserved to know.

Audrey came through the front door and looked at the hook where the keys lived. The Rover’s keys were missing from their home, but ever dependable James placed the Vauxhall’s keys where they belonged. She scooped them up and turned to go out again when she was stopped by Siegfried.

“Mrs Hall, you just got back, where are you going?” Siegfried asked, a tone of concern in his voice.

Audrey thought about what to say to him. Jenny didn’t say that she couldn’t tell Siegfried. Just then Tristan came from around the corner. “Where are you going Mrs. H? And taking the car?” Tristan prodded further as she didn’t answer immediately.

Quickly Audrey reasoned that neither did Jenny say that she couldn’t tell Tristan, though she knew that if she told Tristan that he would tell James and James would tell Helen. At that time it would be morning and she would have hopefully told Helen herself, privately. All things considered, she figured it was safe to give one or two details of her whereabouts. “I was out, just finished my rounds, and came across Jenny Alderson. She was out for a walk, sprained her ankle, and now needs a ride home. I best be going as she’s been waiting for a while. Don’t wait up for me.”

“Let me drive you!” Tristan offered, getting a glare from Siegfried.

“Not with the amount of whisky you poured down yourself,” Siegfried retorted. “What do you want to do, kill everyone in an accident? You stay here and I’ll take Mrs. Hall.”

Audrey sighed. “It’s no bother, I can go by meself. Someone’s got to take any calls that come in.”

Tristan looked back and forth between Siegfried and Mrs. Hall. “I guess that’ll be Siegfried. Remember, I don’t work here anymore,” he said with a cheeky grin.

Siegfried glowered at Tristan. “If you’re going, so am I. Everyone in this house is under my care and I won’t have you breaking Mrs. Hall’s neck because of your carelessness. If there’s a phone call James can take it.”

Audrey was getting more worried as the two brothers started a quarrel and time seemed to drag on. They both made their points clear, and to her it seemed the reasonable thing for her to do was to go alone. “You both stay here then. You’ll work James into an early grave. I’m leaving and will be back. Don’t worry about me.”

“The chances of someone calling are slim. I’m coming with you and will quickly write James a note where we went,” Siegfried said.

Audrey shook her head. He really was a most ridiculous creature, but even at these times, she couldn’t help but love his concern for his household. “Best be on with you then. Go start the car and I’ll write the note. In the hurry you’re in, if you write it, we’ll be back home by the time James can figure out your handwriting.” She walked past then and to the telephone where she quickly jotted down that the three of them were out but would be back shortly and not to worry. She purposefully left out any mention of Jenny.

Siegfried and Tristan stepped outside. Tristan had the keys in his hand but they were quickly snatched away by his older brother.

“I said I’m driving,” Siegfried reminded Tristan.

Tristan rolled his eyes. “I’m perfectly capable to drive.”

“You’ll drive us all into the grave. Get in the back.”

Tristan did as he was told but wasn’t going to let Siegfried off that easily. “Why didn’t you let me go with Mrs. H alone?” he asked. “Even if she drove, do you not trust me with one of the prettiest women in Darrowby?” He grinned, knowing full well that he was on a touchy subject but reasoning that soon Mrs. H would be out and Siegfried wouldn’t continue the conversation in front of her.

“Tristan, I’m warning you!”

“Oh go on, I’m not scared!” Tristan laughed. “It’s so obvious!”

Siegfried turned in his seat to look at his brother, the look in his eyes both irritated and perhaps a bit scared of what Tristan knew. “What is?”

“That you love her. You stay up for her at night worried about her. Just looking at her sometimes I can see in your eyes that your heart has melted to mush,” Tristan smirked. “It would be sickening watching you if I didn’t love her so much. You really should do something about it one of these days before some other man comes along and takes Mrs. H. from all of us.”

“Tristan!” Siegfried said in a warning tone but refrained from saying any more because Mrs. Hall was at the car door.

“What’s going on here?” Audrey asked.

The two brothers only looked at each other, neither saying a word. Audrey looked back and forth between the two of them. This was getting all of them nowhere. “Well then, let’s go! It’s up on the way to the Alderson’s farm but before you get there, take the first road to the left…”

Jenny sat alone in the dark, the only light coming from the moon. It dimly lit up the Dales, casting shadows upon the hills that surrounded her. She contemplated how she was going to explain all of this to Helen.

As far as she knew, Audrey was the only other person who knew of her troubles, besides Helen. She hoped that it could stay that way. The less people who knew the better, until she could tell Tristan himself that she loved him and that she hoped that he returned her affections. It sounded so simple in her mind but so far it didn’t work out exactly as planned in the real world.

Jenny leaned forward to feel her injured ankle. Sitting for as long as she had, the swelling seemed to have gone down some. She knew better than to try and walk home, though it did occur to her that if she got home by herself, no one would have to know what had happened. Maybe Audrey would think it was all a dream or mirage when she returned and Jenny was gone. Quickly Jenny dismissed that idea. Of all the ideas she had that day, that was the most farfetched, though it did make her smile to think if she successfully carried out that harebrained scheme how funny it would be.

Coming back to reality, Jenny untied the laces on her boot and tried pulling it off. The pain was still severe. She then took off the laces completely and placed them in her pocket. The boot was now the loosest it would be and it was worth another try. She yanked as hard as she could and it came off.

Without a light it was hard for her to examine her ankle up close. She pulled off her sock next. Before she thought her ankle wasn’t broken, and she felt the area again, this time more thoroughly. It seemed to be just a sprain after all, albeit a bad one. She rubbed it, trying to soothe the pain.

It felt like an eternity waiting for help to arrive. There was only so much one could do while stuck on the side of the road in the middle of the night. She leaned back and looked up at the clear night sky, the stars twinkling above. The sunset had made promises of a nice day tomorrow and Jenny hoped that she would be useful for some of her farm work. Her dad counted on her and if she was unable to help, she would feel even more terrible for the trouble she had caused.

Why did Helen have to act the way she did? Jenny had never complained or worried about Hugh or James. In fact, it had been interesting seeing Helen’s love life play out. Helen calling off her wedding to Hugh had been one of the best, most exciting Christmas mornings she had experienced. Not that she minded Hugh. He was always giving her things that most farm girls did not have the luxury of receiving. She supposed it was just the unusual circumstances that surrounded Helen’s almost-wedding that made it so interesting.

She still wondered what Helen and James talked about in the church when he came back right after she called it off with Hugh. Did they confess their love for each other right then and there? Was that the way it was supposed to be done?

In the movies Jenny saw countless scenes of men confessing their love to their damsel in distress. But Jenny was not a damsel in distress, at least, not when she wanted to talk to Tristan. She didn’t want him to see her like this. Right now she felt almost like what she pictured a damsel in distress feeling like, with her hurt ankle and all, but she was not helpless. Her father called her stubborn, she called herself determined. It was a modern world; surely it wouldn’t be wrong for a woman to tell a man that she loves him, instead of the other way around?

Jenny could picture the scene in her mind: Out on a picnic with a lunch she made herself and brought to one of her favorite spots in the Dales, away from everyone else. After lunch, she would walk arm in arm with Tristan down to a babbling creek. They’d sit down near the big old tree that grew near it. She’d slip her hand into his. She’d ask him if he’d always wanted it to be this way, just the two of them. He’d agree. She’d lean up to his ear and whisper and tell him that she loved him, always him, never anyone else. He’d look down at her lovingly and lean in, cupping her face in her hands. She’d slowly close her eyes and then they’d-

The sound of a car and dimmed headlights snapped Jenny out of her reverie. She tried to see who was coming. As the car got closer she saw Audrey was not alone and Jenny’s heart sunk as she thought that she would have to explain her situation to someone else. The car came to a stop a little ways off and Audrey was the first one out. Siegfried soon followed.

But the worst part was, the two of them were not alone.

“Tristan Sebastian Farnon, here to help!”

Chapter Text

Jenny had never felt more mortified in her life. She had trusted Audrey to keep her troubles a secret, and now it wasn’t just Audrey let in on her predicament but also Siegfried, and worst yet, Tristan. This made for a most awkward situation so she did her best to hide her discomfort. “Tris, what are you doing here?” she asked, trying her best to keep her voice upbeat.

“I heard you were in trouble and wanted to see what I could do to help. Mrs. H is a capable woman but not beyond assistance,” Tristan replied with a grin. He stepped forward to get a closer look at Jenny’s ankle. “That does look bad…”

Audrey held out her hand to Jenny. “Think you can walk to the car?” she asked, ignoring Tristan.

Jenny stood up, at first trying it on her own, and then accepting Audrey’s hand when she still felt unsteady. “I can make it. No need to fuss over me!”

Siegfried started up the car. “Let’s not keep your father waiting. Even if he doesn’t show it, I’m sure he’s wondering what became of you.”

Jenny hobbled over to the car, sliding in the back seat. Audrey followed her in after collecting Jenny’s boot that she left behind.

Tristan got in the front and looked back at Jenny. “Comfortable back there?”

“As good as I can be with this ankle,” she said, not making eye contact with him.

“So… what really happened?” Tristan asked. “Why were you out so late?”

In the past Jenny would have explained the story to him. But considering it was a tender subject and unbeknownst to Tristan, involved him somewhat, she decided to take the easy route out and not say much at all. “I was walking and got farther away from home than what I realized. I tried to make it back in a hurry but when I climbed over a wall I didn’t see the hole on the other side,” she explained.

Tristan knew there was more to the story but decided not to press the matter at the moment.

Siegfried drove slowly back to Heston Grange and pulled into the drive. “Here we are. I’ll let you father know what happened,” he said to Jenny while getting out of the car. He strode across the drive to the front door.

Tristan jumped out of the car and opened the passenger door for Jenny.

“Thanks again,” Jenny said with a small smile to Audrey.

Audrey smiled back. “Sorry about Mr. Farnon and Tris coming. I didn’t count on that,” she said quietly.

Jenny shrugged. “Not your fault.” She placed her one good foot outside of the car and slowly moved her other foot, putting it down. It was aching and as she put as little pressure on it as she could, she wondered if she looked as awkward as she felt uncomfortable.

“How are you going to get upstairs?” Tristan asked. “You look like you can hardly stand as it is.”

“I’ll manage it,” Jenny said, for the first time looking into his eyes. Was he concerned for her, or was she just imagining it?

Tristan looked at her, her face strained from the pain. In the moonlight he could see that her face was pale. He wondered if she would really be able to make it inside and upstairs or if she was just being strong-willed. He had an idea but knew if he asked first he would be told no. So he did it.

Before Jenny knew what was happening, Tristan stepped forward and placed one arm around Jenny’s back and one under her knees, lifting her up. “I’ll carry you,” he said, proud of his idea.

Jenny let out a small gasp as Tristan picked her up. She didn’t think the night would end like this and suddenly felt a mix of emotions flooding over her. Did he feel the spark between them at her touching him that his touch did to her? While she felt she should make some defense and demand that he put her down, her heart put up no complaints to his holding her this way, so she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck.

At that moment, before she could say anything further, the front door to the house opened after a more intense knock by Siegfried.

“Ah, Richard, I know you must think this is a strange time for us to be here but, you have to know that Jenny-“ Siegfried started to explain.

“What have you done to me daughter?” Richard was looking past Siegfried, as if he didn’t even see the man standing right in front of him, nor did he see Mrs. Hall. Instead his focus was directly on the younger Farnon brother. Any sign of confusion on what was happening in front of his house at that ungodly hour of the night had changed to fury as he saw his youngest daughter being held by one of the greatest flirts all of Darrowby. “Put her down and keep your hands to yourself!”

“You don’t understand! It’s not what it looks like!” Tristan exclaimed, trying to defend himself.

Siegfried stepped in front of Richard, trying to block his little brother from the wrath of the farmer. “You see, Jenny had an accident-“

“I said put her down!”

“I can’t! I mean I won’t! She can hardly stand let alone walk up the stairs inside.” Tristan retorted.

“What’d you do to her?” Richard demanded.

“What did I do to her?” Tristan said in disbelief. “Do you really think I go around trying to sprain girl’s ankles?”

“Dad please,” Jenny said tightening her grip on Tristan as if she believed her father would grab her away right then and there. “It’s all me fault. Tris didn’t do anything. I was out walking and it got late. I tried to get back home quickly but I sprained my ankle getting over a wall,” Jenny explained. She had hoped that her explanation would help get her friends out of trouble, especially Tristan.

Audrey stepped forward. “It’s true Mr. Alderson. I just finished me shift and found your girl on the side of the road. She were a sorry sight. I couldn’t leave her there so I went back to get the car and these two insisted on coming with me.” At that point she turned to see both brothers smiling sheepishly at her explanation. “They only want to help and do the neighborly thing.”

“Then why’s he the one who has to be holding her?” Richard asked, pointing to Tristan.

Tristan looked over at Siegfried. “Because I’m the only one who can. Siegfried’s out of shape.”

“I am not!”

Tristan questioningly raised an eyebrow.

“But I am not carrying her all the way upstairs to prove it,” Siegfried quickly added.

“There you have it Mr. Alderson. Siegfried can’t help so I will. I’ll just bring Jenny to bed and I’ll-“ Tristan said, suddenly stopping himself in both his tracks and words. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant I’ll bring her upstairs, with everyone else along.” He ruefully grinned.

Richard gave a humph. “I still don’t trust you lad. So go on with you and I’ll be watching.”

“Dad!” Jenny gave an exhausted sigh. It was just a slip of the tongue on Tristan’s part, though the idea gave her an unexpected thrill. She tried not to let it show as he carried her over the threshold of the house and up the stairs to her bedroom.

“Sorry about that Jenny, you know I didn’t mean what it sounded like…” Tristan whispered in her ear.

“Forget it,” Jenny said in a hushed voice. She had never been this close to him before. Her heart was pounding and she hoped he couldn’t feel it. She glanced back at her father who was still glaring at Tristan and following them closely behind. “I don’t think Dad believes you though…”

Tristan tenderly placed Jenny down on her bed and then hastened to step away. Her father watched him as if he were a fox in a chicken coop. Tristan hadn’t the faintest idea why. After all, she was more than ten years his junior. He could only imagine the gossip that would be all over Darrowby if word got out that he had exhausted all the women his age, romancing and leaving them behind, now onto a girl not even old enough to order her own ale at the Drovers!

Audrey stepped forward to look closely at Jenny’s ankle in the light. She could see it had swelled in size but the bone appeared normal and unbroken.

“Here are some pillows to elevate it to help bring down the swelling,” Siegfried said, passing them to Audrey who gingerly placed them under Jenny’s injured ankle. “And remember young lady, rest it and don’t do too much. You’ll only do more harm than good if you overdo it.”

Jenny nodded in agreement. “I promise.”

“Good girl,” Audrey said, patting her on the shoulder. “I’ll get the report on how you’re doing from Helen tomorrow.”

“I’ll be talking with you in the morning too lass,” Richard added. He realized Helen was right; something needed to be done.

Siegfried looked at Jenny and how tired she looked. “Let’s leave the patient be now so she can get some sleep.” He smiled at the girl who gave him a look of gratitude.

Richard, Siegfried, and Audrey left the bedroom. Tristan followed behind them before peaking his head back inside. “Good night Jenny,” he said softly before quickly leaving as he caught Richard’s glare. He still got that feeling he wasn’t trusted as far as a stone’s throw with him.

“Good night Tris,” Jenny whispered, though she knew he didn’t hear her. Any self-consciousness that she felt before had faded away. All she felt now was the enraptured feeling of being so close to Tristan earlier. If it were different circumstances in a different place in time, maybe their evening would have ended differently. Maybe she would have kissed him. Maybe she would have told him how much she loved him and didn’t want to let him go.

But she was still Jenny Anderson, barely 17 with almost a whole year before she would be 18 years old. She lived with her father who seemed to disapprove of her secret love and her secret love didn’t know that she cared for him the way she did. So all things considered, it hadn’t ended too badly after all. Tomorrow she would speak with Helen and patch things up with her by apologizing for her behavior and making her worry. She hoped Helen realized that she could take care of herself but until then, an apology would suffice.

Jenny contentedly sighed as she leaned back on her pillow. She crossed her arms behind her head as she blissfully smiled, thinking of him.

Chapter Text

The next morning, the sun had already rose by the time Jenny woke up. It was unlike her to sleep in but she was so tired from the eventful night before that her internal clock didn’t disturb her restful sleep. She blinked sleepily as she looked around her room and then pushed back the covers and looked down at her injured ankle.

The swelling had gone down some but it still appeared to be a bit larger compared to her other ankle. She was glad for that, for then she knew she hadn’t dreamed it all up.

It still felt unreal, being carried over the threshold of her house by the man whom she loved. Jenny wondered if he felt as ecstatic as she did. He had made the first move after all. She didn’t ask him to pick her up. He impulsively did and she had no complaints.

Jenny swung her legs over the side of her bed and decided she had enough of resting. Hurt or not, there was work to be done and she wasn’t going to miss another day.

“Tristan, it’s time to wake up!” Audrey called from outside his bedroom door. “Your brother's wanting to take you along with him to Major Sebright Saunders.”

Tristan stirred from his slumber. The last thing he felt like doing was going to work with Siegfried. The Major’s estate was not as interesting as it used to be as the charming and beautiful Margo had married Hugh the prior year. Therefore he naturally chose to pretend that he didn’t hear the morning wake up call. He was still tired and had a headache that only felt worse each time he moved.

After getting home from the last night’s adventure, he had helped himself to the “good stuff” after the others had long gone upstairs to their respective rooms and drifted off to sleep. He justified it as he had done a good deed and was treated like a cad in return. He reasoned that he deserved a drink (or two, okay, maybe it was three) for the extra effort he put in.

Groggily he rolled over and looked at the alarm clock. It was only eight o'clock in the morning. He felt that he needed at least another hour or two, but there's no rest for the wicked.

“Tristan!” Audrey called again through the door.

“Coming Mrs. H!” Tris replied, trying to sound awake. At least he was alive - he thought so anyway, though his head begged to differ.

Audrey walked down the hall and Helen was coming down the stairs from the bedsit, carrying Jimmy on her hip. "Is Tris up yet?" Helen asked.

"We'll see," Audrey chuckled. "He's talking but I'm not sure if he's actually awake."

"Oh, another late night at the Drovers I presume? I was hoping he could drive Jimmy and me up to Heston."

Audrey bit her tongue. Now was the best time to talk to Helen about Jenny but she still couldn't help but feel that she was betraying the girl's trust in her. She decided to take the plunge. "Actually, he was home with Siegfried last night. About last night... I was out on me rounds and found Jenny. She's alright, really," she added quickly, noting the flash of concern that spread across Helen's face. "She just twisted her ankle is all. I came back to get the car to drive her home and Mr. Farnon and Tristan came with me. Didn't give me a say in the matter."

Helen nodded. "As long as she's okay, that's what matters. We had a row yesterday afternoon; well, not really a row, but she was upset and ran off. She does that. I shouldn't have pressed her on it. It's me fault that she went out as late as she did."

"It's not your fault," Audrey said, grabbing Helen's arm and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Things happen. Jenny didn't want me to tell you, but I thought you deserved to know. As a mother, I know how it is to know she's out there and you don't know whether or not she's okay."

"Thanks Aud," Helen said with a smile.

Tristan swung open his bedroom door, fully dressed but his hair still dishoveled. "Did I miss something?" he asked, looking back and forth between the two women. "Or am I interrupting?"

Helen shook her head. "Not at all! Actually I was wondering if you would drive, or probably better if I drove, but if you would come with me to Heston."

Tristan gave a lopsided grin. "Not a chance after last night! I think your father is ready to shoot on sight if I show up there again so soon," he chuckled.

"Excuse me?" Helen said, confused and having no idea what Tristan was talking about. “What’s this about me dad?”

Tris sighed. "Long story. But I'll come with you - it's better than going up to the Major's stables with Siegfried. He might put me to work," he said, ending in a stage whisper.

"Let's go then," Helen said. "Here, you take Jimmy and I'll drive. There's something I want to talk to you about."

As Helen, Tristan, and Jimmy drove up to Heston Grange, Helen explained her conundrum to Tristan while he explained what occurred last night. She hoped he was functioning enough to understand and that any hangover he had didn’t get rid of his common sense and love for scandalous stories. Not that this was one, Helen had to remind herself. She just didn’t want it to turn out to be anything serious that would end badly.

“So you’re saying Jenny ran off because she’s in love and didn’t want to admit it? And now you want me to trick her into saying who she’s in love with?” Tristan asked.

“In so many words, yes,” Helen agreed. “I don’t mean for you to trick her. Talk to her a a friend. She might open up to you since you’re not her sibling. As a favor, please, Tris.”

“You’re hard to say no to…” Tristan said, debating on if he should take the risk or not. “You owe me one!”

“We’re even now,” Helen reminded him. “Otherwise you’d be off with Siegfried right now going to file the teeth of the many horses at Major Sebright Saunder’s estate.”

Tris winced and pretended to look hurt. “Fine. We’re even then. Honestly though, if your father sees me here he will kill me. If looks could kill, I’d have been dead last night!”

“I’ll take care of Dad. He won’t yell at you if he’s got little Jimmy around.”

“Thanks little man,” Tris said, looking down at the baby. “I always knew you’d have my back,” he teased.

The three of them arrived at the farm and Tristan gave a quick glance around to see if Richard Alderson was in sight. Having seen that all was quiet in the front of the house, he warily got out. “Where do you think your sister’s at?” he asked Helen, who was getting Jimmy out of the car.

“She should be in the house if she’s as hurt as you made her out to be. But knowing her she’s probably in the barn. I’ll go find Dad.”

“When you do don’t let him know I’m here.”

“You are scared of him, aren’t you?”

Tristan just grinned back at her. He was a bit afraid but didn’t want to admit it. He wondered how he got himself in these types of situations. But even more than his questioning his ability on how he ended up in the tricky situations was his wondering on how to get out of them.

He walked around the side of the barn and looked inside. The fresh air seemed to be doing his head good and his thoughts felt clearer than they had all morning. He knew better than to call out in case Jenny wasn’t there and her father was. But it turned out no one was inside, so he moved on, cautiously looking around and keeping his eye out for any signs of movement - either friend or foe.

Chapter Text

Jenny was out back behind one of the barns with the ducks and chickens. She made sure that all the jobs that she normally did early in the morning were completed, and they were, to her satisfaction. She knew she wasn’t supposed to be doing much, and how much she had done already did seem to be causing a soreness in her ankle that she was finding hard to ignore.

While Jenny knew she was in trouble with her father, he hadn’t brought up the topic yet that morning and she wondered if he would later on. Maybe he had forgiven her for running away and abandoning her afternoon duties. She certainly hoped so and thought that maybe him letting her sleep in and doing her work for her was his way of letting her know that he wasn’t upset with her.

Jenny turned as she heard Scruff bark and take off to run around the corner of the barn. There was the undeniable sound of a person walking toward her and, thinking it was Helen coming around the corner, made a quick step to walk away before stopping where she was. Last time she ran away she saw the consequences - not that all were bad.

But much to her surprise it wasn’t Helen that turned the corner. Scruff came trotting back, leading Tristan to her.

Jenny stared at him without saying anything, standing there in disbelief. Had he come back just to talk with her after what happened last night? Her heart leapt at the thought of the possibilities.

“Hello Jenny, I just came by to check on how you were doing. Is your ankle better?” Tristan asked. He knew that sounded somewhat awkward and forced. He was usually better at turning on the charm but he blamed the fog clouding his thoughts on the third glass of whiskey he had the night before.

“Better but still sore,” Jenny answered. She stepped closer to him. “Is that all you came for? To check on me?”

Tristan looked down at his feet. She caught on and he knew that somehow she realized that it wasn’t his real intention of calling. “Yes… and no… I also wanted to apologize. For last night. If I caused any trouble between you and your dad.”

“Not at all, he hasn’t spoken to me yet today, so we’ll take it as a good sign,” Jenny smiled as she looked up at him.

“You should really sit down somewhere. It’s not good for you to be standing on it,” Tristan said, changing the subject.

“It’s fine,” Jenny replied. “I’m not walking on it right now.” She turned and leaned forward on the wood gate. It was much easier to talk to him if she wasn’t looking into those blue eyes of his. “You can’t expect me to sit inside all day doing nothing.”

Doing nothing sounded perfect to Tristan but he chose not to argue with her. “Of course not.” There was a moment of silence that fell between the two of them. Tristan stepped forward and stood beside Jenny, looking out at the hills that surrounded them.

“When the war’s over, are you going to stay in Darrowby?” Jenny asked quietly.

Tristan was a bit taken aback by the question. He sighed and looked at her, who still wasn’t looking at him but taking in the sight of the countryside. He knew to her it was her home. Thinking about it a bit more, he knew Darrowby was his home too. His safe landing place from wherever he came from. “I thought I could leave. I have actually. Many times, to school when I was much younger, away to college, off to war. But every time I come back I see why I love it so much here. ‘Home is where the heart is’ and all that. My family’s here. You can leave a place but as long as the people you love are there I suppose you leave a piece of your heart with them.”

Jenny looked over at Tristan. She moved her hand to place it on his but thought twice about it and pulled it back quickly. He hadn’t noticed and she was grateful for that.

“What about you Jenny? Are you ever going to move away?”

Jenny shook her head. “What you said about family and people you love. It’s not just this place that keeps me here. It’s the people too.”

Tristan realized this was his time to get the information Helen wanted. “Have any young men of Darrowby caught your eye?”

Jenny blushed and looked down at the ground beneath the gate they were leaning on. She wanted to tell Tristan that yes, one had caught her eye, stolen her heart. He had. But she couldn’t be that bold yet. The moment between them was too soft and gentle for that. “Maybe.”

“Do tell!” Tristan grinned, knowing he was finally getting somewhere.

“There’s not much to tell.”

“Well do I know him?”

Jenny gave an impish smile. She wondered how long she could keep up the ruse. “Very well actually.”

Tristan raised on eyebrow and looked at her, as if his stare could get her to spill all. He couldn’t think of any young men that seemed to be hanging around Jenny, but he hadn’t been back home all that long, and something might have happened when he was away. “What’s he like?”

Jenny looked at Tristan, finding it both funny and charming to describe the man who was right in front of her. “He’s good looking if we’re talking about what he looks like. If you mean what his personality’s like, well, he’s smart and good with animals and people, treats them right. He can be serious but has a good sense of humor and sometimes is mischievous. Most importantly though, he’s got a good heart. I know, because I’ve known him almost all my life.”

“He sounds perfect for you Jenny,” Tristan smiled. So far he had found nothing wrong with Jenny’s description of her secret lover and all seemed fine and on the up and up. He didn’t see why Helen was so worried about her little sister. “You sure you won’t drop any names?”

Jenny shook her head and smiled mischievously.

“And you say I know him?”

“You know him better than anyone else.” Jenny slyly looked over at Tristan, seeing if he would catch on, and then looked in the opposite direction, hiding the smirk on her face.

It then hit Tristan like a ton of bricks. All of a sudden the haze he felt he was in cleared. His eyes widened as he looked at Jenny. She couldn’t be talking about… no, it couldn’t be, he thought to himself, processing and replaying the conversation they just had. Oh god, it was. “Jenny, we aren’t talking about someone I know. We’re talking about… me.”

Chapter Text

“I didn’t want to tell you this way,” Jenny said, turning to Tristan and grabbing his arms as if to keep him there. “But you kept asking questions so I can’t hide it any longer. I’m in love with you.” Her eyes searched his, looking for a glimmer of understanding and love in return, but all she saw in his emotions was shock, confusion, and dismay.

Tristan wondered how this even happened. How did a little girl that he had left behind grow up into almost being an adult who claimed that she was in love with him? The very thought of a teenaged love-stuck girl who had eyes only for him was horrifying. He had noticed she looked older when he first saw her again; she was wearing a smart green suit and her hair was styled in a fashionable way that looked nice on her. But to think that she was in love with him and wondered if he reciprocated her feelings was too much for him to bear the thought of. “Jenny, you can’t be in love with me!” He exclaimed nervously, starting to back away. Jenny only came closer.

“But I am. Nobody can change me mind for me. Not Dad, not townsfolk, not anyone. I don’t care what others think. All I know is ever since I saw you again in the church at the christening, I fell in love with you. I’ve never loved anyone else Tris, only you.”

“You only think you’re in love with me!” Tristan replied, taking her hands off his arms and pushing her away more firmly. “It’s no different than your ducks there. They imprint on the first thing they see when they hatch. I was the first man you saw in uniform who paid attention to you. If it was anyone else you would have felt the same. Honestly Jenny, you don’t want me.”

Jenny looked up at Tristan, hurt in her eyes, but too upset for any tears to fall. She couldn’t believe that he had doubted the sincerity and loyalty of her love. And for him to insinuate that she was too young to have fallen in love with anyone else was almost too much for her to bear. Imprinting like a duckling or chick! She could hardly believe he had told her that. Her hurt feelings from her wounded heart mixed with the fiery emotions that burned when she got upset. “Tristan Farnon, I’ll let you know I’ve seen plenty of soldiers in uniform and they’ve looked at me too. So don’t go thinking you’re the only one because you’re not!” she exclaimed, and then softly added, “But you are the only one I’ve ever fallen in love with.”

Tristan felt a pain of regret, knowing he had hurt Jenny’s feelings. He liked her as a friend, but he had only ever considered her as a friend. She was barely an adult, would be in school if she hadn’t quit it early, and though she could care for herself, being brought up without a mother for a good chunk of her life and only a sister for womanly advice, she was still much too young to make lifelong decisions on love. She had some growing up to do.

But at the same time, Tristan could still recall the hurt in his heart when Flo turned his marriage proposal down. It wasn’t exactly the same situation, but Jenny was still exposing a vulnerable side of her that could easily be hurt. She had opened up to him and he had betrayed that confidence by flat out rejecting her. Flo had told him that he needed to find out who he was before he settled down. By leaving Darrowby and making his own way in the world, he had come back home a wiser and more mature man with a new perspective on life. Tristan figured that Jenny needed time to find out who she was too, but breaking that to her would be more difficult than he thought.

“Jenny, I’m not what you need. You think I am, I understand that, but what you need isn’t a man to tie you down. You need time to grow and explore your world. Get to know other people, travel to other towns, see life beyond Darrowby. You’re in love with the idea of being settled down with someone you’ve known practically forever. That could be anyone, but it’s not me.”

“You’re saying you don’t love me?” Jenny asked quietly. Her heart felt crushed and she regretted even going down this path. She was afraid of the rejection but took the risk anyway. This time her gamble had not paid off.

Tristan shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I’m not. You’re still have growing up to do. And even if you were older, there’s a war on. It’s not fair to any woman for me to get involved in a relationship at this time. There’s too many things that could happen.”

“So you’re not saying no, just not yet?” Jenny asked hopefully.

Tristan sighed. Why did this have to be so complicated? “I mean no. It wouldn’t work for both of us. If I stayed around you, I’d be in your way of growing up.”

“Mum was my age when she married Dad. I’m not too young,” Jenny argued.

“But I’m much older than you. The last time I fell in love with a girl of 17 was when I was her age.” Tristan retorted. “The answer’s no Jenny. You’ve got to live with it,” he said, a little more harshly.

The words stung and Jenny turned away from Tristan, tears starting to burn in her eyes. She didn’t want him to see her feelings exposed. “If I have to live with it then I don’t want to see you again.”

Tristan put his hand on Jenny’s shoulder and turned her to face him. “That doesn’t make sense. We’ll see each other many times. Your sister lives in the same house that I do. We can still be friends like we always have, just not be friends… in that way…”

“No Tris, it’s all or nothing. I might have to see you at Skeldale but I don’t want you coming back here.” Jenny determinedly broke free from Tristan’s touch, turned around, and walked away a few steps. “I won’t have it any other way. Be on with you now.” When she still didn’t hear him walking away, she said again, “I said for you to leave. I don’t want to see you here again.”

Tristan sighed. This was not the way he wanted this to end but knew that once she set her mind to something she would follow through on it. At the same time he knew how fickle girls of Jenny’s age could be and realized that this was a phase she was going though and would eventually get over it. “Have it your way Jenny. I’m leaving.” He turned to walk back to the car and out of Jenny’s life.

Jenny felt a sudden feeling of regret rush over her but then stubbornly remembered that the only way to get over Tristan was to let him go for good. She wasn’t one to admit defeat that easily though. She cast a glance over her shoulder to see if he really left. He had.

Scruff whined, sending his girl’s sadness and emotional pain. He reached up and nudged her hand with his wet nose. Jenny leaned down and scratched behind Scruff’s ear. She had been thinking and planning for months now what it would be like to have Tristan in her life that to think of him completely out of her life was foreign and felt meaningless and empty.

Maybe it wasn’t too late to apologize. “Tris!” she called out, running as best she could on her injured ankle. “Tristan! I’m sorry!” She turned the corner of the barn, just in time to see the car leaving and driving down the road. “I didn’t mean it…” she whispered, dropping down on her knees and burying her face in Scruff’s neck. The dog wagged his tail and when his girl looked up, he licked the salty tears off her cheeks.

Jenny looked around and felt very alone. How did something so good end like this? Her fingers ran through Scruff’s fur, the presence of her dog her only comfort. “Oh Tris, what am I going to do without you?”

Chapter Text

Tristan was grateful for the solitary silence he had while driving back home to Skeldale. The way the events of the morning happened left him feeling confused and, if he was being honest with himself, a bit hurt. He felt sorry for Jenny, but knew it would never work. He wasn’t in love with the girl, nor would that be completely socially acceptable.

What had happened to his charming ways with girls that he knew in the past? He always had a good way to let them down easily when they started to get serious. His heart was chastising himself as he replayed the scene over and over again.

At least he had gotten the information Helen wanted him to get, although the truth was had to swallow.

Later on that evening after dinner, the table cleared, dishes washed and dried, and Siegfried and Audrey retired to the living room with Jimmy, Helen saw a quiet moment to talk to Tristan. As he was walking by to join the others, she pulled him to the side. “Tris, about today. You left in such a hurry. Did everything go alright?”

“You didn’t see Jenny after I left?” Tristan asked, starting to get worried about a repeat performance of the night before.

Helen shook her head. “She was laid up in bed. Said her ankle was too sore to do any kind of work. I thought a day off wouldn’t hurt her, might do her good.”

“Oh. Right. Well, everything’s fine,” Tristan said confidently.

“Go on,” Helen urged him. “Who is it?”

Tristan leaned against the door post and grinned in the way that he knew was most convincing, hiding his discomfort at what could be an awkward situation. “I’ve been practically sworn to secrecy. I’ll assure you though that you have nothing to worry about.”

“How can I be so sure? I don’t even know who we’re talking about.”

“I give you my word as a gentleman. He’s not even in love with Jenny, never has been. He wouldn’t hurt her, believe me.”

James walked over to Helen and Tristan, who looked like they were having a serious conversation. “Is everything okay?”

Helen nodded. “Fine, everything’s fine. Tris drove me up to Heston today and talked with Jenny. You remember how I asked you if you noticed if she was acting funny. He said she’s better. Completely over it, right Tris?”

Tristan hesitated, but agreed to make Helen feel better. “Oh yes, she’ll be fine. Her ankle is nothing more than a sprain.”

“Well then, that’s… fine!” James said, copying what both Helen and Tris seemed to be repeating to convince themselves. “Glad to hear it.” He looked between his wife and his best friend, getting the feeling that they were hiding something by trying to cover for each other, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Sometimes James felt left out of their sibling-like banter or secrets, but he was never jealous of Helen’s friendship with Tristan, for he knew that as her husband, he had her heart.

The three of them just stood there, looking at each other and waiting for someone to say something. James broke the silence first. “Mrs. Hall has Jimmy but it’s almost time for his bath. Coming Helen?”

“Be right there James,” she said. As she walked past Tristan, she whispered, “Thanks for talking with Jenny. Takes a weight off me shoulders.”

“Anytime Helen,” Tristan muttered under his breath. She had no idea what he had been through. Surely his deeds deserved a pint at the Drovers. “Anyone want to come with me to the Drovers?” he asked, strolling into their dining room, where Mrs. Hall and Siegfried were now sitting.

Their word game was out on the table and both looked up.

“Tristan, we’re just about to play our game,” Siegfried said, slightly annoyed at the interruption.

“You can join us if you like,” Audrey added.

Tristan just smiled. The two of them acted like a couple who had been married for years with that comfortable feeling that surrounded them, much happier to stay at home nights with only each other as company instead of heading out for a night at the Drovers with him and the other locals who frequented there. He couldn’t say he blamed his brother; with Mrs. H. having to leave some nights for her warden duties, it was nice to have her at home, knowing she was safe. “That’s fine. You two enjoy your game. I’ll go and see you in the morning.”

“Don’t come home too late and don’t charge anything to my tab,” Siegfried said without looking up as he was playing his word with a dubious spelling.

Tristan smirked, choosing to ignore that and walked to get his jacket before leaving the house. He couldn’t help but smile as he heard Mrs. H. correct Siegfried on his spelling of ‘cucumber.’ Despite Tristan’s dislike of that food he knew how to spell that and he was positive Siegfried did as well. Half the time he wondered if his brother made up funny spellings of words just to put a smile on Mrs. Hall’s face, or to see her pretend to get upset at his unorthodox way of playing the game.

After he got to the Drovers and found himself a corner without many people around, Tristan continued to think about the strange situation he got himself into. Love sure was funny. For some, like Jenny, it hit hard and hurt even harder when it wasn’t requited.

For Siegfried and Mrs. H., well, they both had their share of flings. Siegfried much more so than Mrs. H's relationship with Gerald. But no matter how far away they wandered from each other, they always came back together in the end. Why the two of them hadn’t done something about the obvious spark of interest between them was beyond Tristan. Surely they couldn’t think that their love was unrequited at this point.

But anything is possible when one falls in love. It blinds one to seeing the faults in the person they’re in love with. Sometimes it blinds one to the good in a person who they had no idea was the person they’d fall in love with - or should fall in love with.

For Tristan, love was more of a game. It was exciting and intoxicating, but the hangover was always present when the woman he loved either left him for someone else or refused his proposal. He’d been hurt in the past, and he supposed that’s why he felt so bad for hurting Jenny’s feelings. He knew how she felt.

However, she was young and would get over it. He always had when he was both Jenny’s age and even more recently.

Tristan’s thoughts drifted back to Florence Pandhi. She knew who she was and where she was going in life. Is that why he loved her enough to ask her to marry him? Because he wanted the same confidence in his life to know what he was after and how to achieve it? After spending the time he did in Egypt, he felt that he had matured; at least he hoped he had.

Alas, any hope he had of rekindling some sort of romance with Flo had disappeared when he was told that she had moved to the town where she worked at a bank, and what’s more, got engaged to the bank president. Knowing Flo, the man she fell in love with must have known what he wanted and got it.

Tristan wished he was that self-asssured. Perhaps he still had some growing up of his own to do. Maybe he wasn’t as different as Jenny as he originally thought.

Chapter Text

The days of summer had soon enough turned into the cooler days of autumn, characterized by a nip of a chill in the air, a constant reminder winter was around the corner. The days got shorter and the nights longer. Leaves changed color and fell to the ground. Farmers were busy preparing their sheep for breeding and getting the cows set for the winter ahead.

And on the farm at Heston Grange, Jenny continued to immerse herself in her work. Months prior, she felt that she had made a complete fool of herself in front of the man whom she felt that she loved. It wasn’t the first time in her life that she rashly expressed herself, but it was the first time that she cared so much and the consequences hurt so deeply.

Jenny still hadn’t spoken to Tristan since that fateful day that she told him she loved him. Anytime she went to Skeldale to visit her family there, she made a point of it to ignore him as best she could, without making it obvious to others the hurt she felt inside. The wound of shattered hopes and dreams was still painful, but Jenny felt that the less she spoke with him, the less of a chance her heart could be broken again.

It was unrealistic to think that she could completely push Tristan out of her life. But anytime she saw him coming down the road, or ran into him at the market, she made sure that she turned the other way. Tristan too had held up to the bargain she made last summer; he hadn’t been back up to Heston since.

Jenny knew she’d be at Skeldale at Christmas. It was what they did every year since Helen had married James. This year Jenny had made up her mind that she would go and pretend that nothing had happened between herself and Tristan. She wouldn’t want to ruin the special day that the whole family had to be together.

And so life continued on. It was a funny thing to Jenny, that not much had changed, and yet so much had. The war was still continuing on, the people of Darrowby hopeful for an end but realistically realizing that it could last much longer than they at first expected. Loved ones of her neighbors had gone off to fight, some never to return home. And yet as it was every year, the same preparations were made for winter on the farms.

At Skeldale, Jenny noticed the most change. Her sister was a mother now. Carmody had gone off to London and wouldn’t be back in time. And of course, Tristan was home this year.

Jenny found solace in the things that hadn’t changed, a steady comfort in her life. Her dad would be with her. Mrs. Hall still lived and worked at Skeldale, having not gone to marry Gerald the year before. And Siegfried still believed he had the whole house under his control and care (though anyone who had spent any amount of time at Skeldale soon realized it was his housekeeper, not Siegfried, who kept everything organized and running smoothly).

So all in all, Jenny had convinced herself that she would have a good time at Skeldale regardless of her feelings. She looked forward to the time spent with her sister, and cherished the thought of quality time with just her family.

For weeks in preparation, Jenny had saved up her family’s ration coupons to make sure that she would have enough to contribute to the meal. On a cold December afternoon, the sky completely covered by grey clouds threatening snow, Jenny went into the town of Darrowby to pick up what she could.

The grocer was explaining to Jenny that with the shortages, it would be almost impossible to get everything that she needed in the amount that she needed. So she settled for a smaller amount with some substitutions, and as she was paying, two younger boys playing a game of chase had rushed by and pushed past her, knocking some vegetables on display to the ground. “Watch where you’re going!” she exclaimed.

The grocer shook his head. “Boys will be boys,” he grumbled, stooping down to pick up the fallen vegetables.

“I’ll help with that,” Jenny offered, placing her basket on the ground next to her and grabbing the turnips and carrots that had rolled across the ground.

“Is that you down there Miss Alderson?”

Jenny looked up, and to her surprise, Mrs. Pumphrey and her Pekingese Tricki Woo, were looking down at her. She hadn’t realized that the woman who was so well-off would come to do her own shopping. “Aye, just thought I’d help clean up.” She stood up and picked up her wicker basket. “What are you doing here? I thought someone like you would have someone else doing the shopping for you.”

“Oh, I was actually heading on my way to Skeldale House to deliver two presents for your nephew and thought I saw you here. You see, we don’t want to ruin the surprise, so maybe you could help us by keeping these a secret. This one is from me and this one is from Tricki,” Mrs. Pumphrey explained, holding out two nicely wrapped gift boxes for Jenny to take.

“I’ll take them and keep them in a safe place where no one will find them,” Jenny assured her, taking the presents and placing them in her basket.

“Thank you Jenny,” Mrs. Pumphrey smiled. “Tricki and I do appreciate it! Are you all done with your shopping?”

“Just finished now,” Jenny replied.

“I was wondering if you would be interested in coming with us to get some refreshments.”

“We could go to the Drovers for a pint,” Jenny offered, always willing to go to the pub, especially without her father or sister there to watch over her like a mother hen.

“That’s not quite what I had in mind,” Mrs. Pumphrey said, hiding her smile of amusement. “I was thinking more like tea. A hot beverage does warm the soul on a day like today.”

“Oh, right. Of course,” Jenny said. She had almost forgotten that a woman like Mrs. Pumphrey would most definitely not frequent a place like the Drovers.

Mrs. Pumphrey led the way out of the grocers. “Come then, I know just the place.”

As they arrived at the tea room, Jenny didn’t feel that she was dressed up enough to go in, but she reasoned that if Mrs. Pumphrey didn’t mind her attire or company, then she would try not to feel too out of place. Truth be told, the Drovers was more of Jenny’s style. It was filled with her kind of people - common folk and farmers who weren’t afraid to pull their own weight to get the job done. They were people who knew the brutal honesty of hard work and loss. Jenny felt at home amongst those people. She knew her fair isle sweater and corduroy trousers wouldn’t look out of place there.

She still appreciated the invitation of Mrs. Pumphrey and decided to make the most of her time with the older woman. After they sat down at their table and had their tea and treats in front of them, Mrs. Pumphrey offered a biscuit to Tricki, who took it eagerly.

Jenny watched with mirth the little dog get pampered. Her Scruff was happy to get what he was given him, which would never be the delicacies of a tea room.

“Do you have special plans for over Christmas?” Mrs Pumphrey asked.

Jenny shook her head. “Nothing more than our usual. Dad and I will be at Skeldale. Jimmy’s turning one as you know, but we’re keeping it simple this year. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if you came to bring your presents yourself.”

“Thank you, but that is a special day for your family and you should be together without a lot of other people around to worry about.”

“Are you doing anything special Christmas Day?” asked Jenny.

This time it was Mrs. Pumphrey’s turn to shake her head. “No, my dear. At my age you learn not to worry so much about special days of the year and instead to enjoy all of them. When I was your age, I was so concerned about what I was to wear to the Christmas ball and who I was trying to impress,” she chuckled, thinking wistfully back to her youth. “I’m sure you understand what I’m talking about.”

“Love’s not for me,” Jenny said matter-of-factly, staring down at her teacup.

“Oh? And why’s that? Do you mean to tell me that not one man in all of Darrowby has tried to captivate your heart?”

“Helen thinks I’m too young. Besides it hurts too much when you fall in love and nothing comes of it,” Jenny explained. “I think I’ll be a spinster and live at Heston the rest of me life. I don't need a man in me life.”

“Helen may think you’re too young, and she may be right,” said Mrs. Pumphrey, “But I believe the only thing you’re too young for is making up your mind about not falling in love. Don’t block everyone out of your heart. If you do, you’ll find it’s a lonely life when you get older. Locking out love from your heart might prevent it from getting hurt, but you’ll also miss out on a lot of good relationships and memories you’ll cherish when you get to be my age. Keep an open mind and heart Jenny. Fall in love. You won’t regret it.”

Jenny thought about what Mrs. Pumphrey said. It made sense, but the wound of heartbreak was still fresh in her mind. “Aye, I’ll try,” she said, then quickly added, “But I’m not chasing anyone.”

“I didn’t say you had to. Wait long enough and love will come your way,” Mrs. Pumphrey said with a twinkle in her eye. “You’re a pretty girl with a straightforward personality. One day you’ll make some man very happy.” She paused, looking at Jenny’s face. She couldn’t read her that well; she seemed to have a faraway look in her eyes, perhaps one of longing. What Jenny needed to get over whatever feelings she had was to be with other young people and experience friendship among those her own age. It wasn’t good for her to just be with her dad and sister day in and day out. “I heard there is a party being planning for the soldiers up at Pumphrey Manor on Boxing Day afternoon and they’re looking for young women to volunteer their time for serving food and making sure the convalescing soldiers are having a good time. Perhaps you might want to think about attending.”

Jenny looked doubtfully at Mrs. Pumphrey, unsure of what to say. The thought of going to a party was exciting, a taste of the normal past in their turbulent world. But at the same time, she worried what her family would say if she told them she was going by herself. They seemed so overprotective when she was almost an adult herself who could make her own decisions. “It’s at your place? The hospital? Will you be going?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world! We can come pick you up at 1 o’clock sharp.”

“I’ll think about it then.” Jenny wanted to do her part for the war effort, and building morale was important. Her thoughts turned to Helen and what she went through being separated from James. Surely if he were in a similar situation to the soldiers up at the hospital, Helen would have wanted him to have the best time he possibly could, despite being separated from his family. “Actually, I will come.”

Mrs Pumphrey was delighted at Jenny’s response. “Oh Tricki, Auntie Jenny said she will come! Aren’t you excited!” she exclaimed, holding up the little dog who snorted in reply.

The two of them, plus one Tricki Woo, finished their afternoon tea, and Mrs. Pumphrey insisted on paying, despite Jenny’s offering to pay for her own. As they left the tea room, Jenny placed her basket on the front of her bicycle. “Thank you. For everything.”

“It’s my pleasure. It’s nice to be out with someone your age. It makes me feel young again,” Mrs. Pumphrey said with a smile. “Don’t forget those presents for young Jimmy!”

“I won’t! See you around,” Jenny said, pushing her bike off and heading in the direction of home. The words that Mrs. Pumphrey had said to her kept ringing in her mind. “Don’t block everyone out of your heart … Fall in love. You won’t regret it.”

Chapter Text

The weeks seemed to fly by as everyone was busy with preparations for Christmas. Time spent with family was never wasted, and as Jenny’s father reminded her, family always comes first. Jenny enjoyed the special time spent with Helen making a cake and preparing the party with her (though she made sure that she was doing the baking while Helen was helping, as Helen’s record for burning things was greater than anyone else’s).

Not everything was perfect though. Mrs. Hall had gotten a telegram saying that her son Edward’s ship had gone down and she was beside herself with worry until she knew what had happened to him. Siegfried too mirrored Mrs. Hall’s worry, as much as he might have tried to conceal it from the others.

And then there was Tristan, sent out on a special assignment. Jenny was somewhat grateful that he was away on business during the day as she didn’t have to face him as often. Every time she did, she still got that tingling feeling inside of her, along with a strong desire to be with him, that she found it best to try to ignore his presence or busy herself with chores or talk with someone else.

Jenny got through it, glad that no one else had picked up on her somewhat unusual behavior. She wondered if Tristan knew that she still felt the same about him. She also wondered if she would ever get over him. While a part of her hoped so, her heart said no.

On the next day, Friday the 26th, Jenny kept her promise to Mrs. Pumphrey that she would attend the afternoon party for the recovering soldiers. And while she started to have doubts about going, her father assured her that she could go out for the afternoon, as long as she was back before dark.

Jenny dressed up in a knee-length long sleeved red dress, new for this winter season. She tightened the belt, cinching her waist, and finished buttoning up the small faux pearl buttons on the front. It was undoubtedly one of the fanciest dresses she had and was saving it for a special occasion. Was this really a good idea? she wondered. She leaned over the vanity and looked in the mirror, picking up her red lipstick, debating whether or not to wear it. This is for the war effort, she reminded herself as she put it on. The shade did match her dress. She was only convinced to buy it during her shopping trip in Leeds after she asked the girl working behind the counter what shade Betty Grable wore. She felt silly now, thinking back. After all, it wasn’t the shade of lipstick that Betty Grable used that caught Tristan’s attention…

Stepping back so she could see herself fully in the mirror, Jenny lifted the skirt of her dress above her knee and gave her leg the once over in the mirror. She hadn’t ever considered her legs before in that way. They weren’t bad looking, not quite like Betty Grable’s, but then again, very few women had legs like Grable’s. Suddenly feeling self-conscious and a bit daft, she quickly pulled the skirt of her dress down and smoothed it out.

Hoping she wouldn’t feel too out of her element, Jenny grabbed her gray winter coat forcefully, and put it on, giving the tie in front a good yank, all the while telling herself that it was good to experience different things, meet new people, and have an afternoon to herself away from her family. She hoped her dad would be able to cope with the work around the farm by himself. It was only one afternoon, but the worry of leaving her responsibilities lingered in the back of her mind.

“I’ll be back soon Scruff,” Jenny told her dog, who lay on her bed, thumping his tail in a slow wag, watching her goings on and primping in the vanity mirror. Scruff touched his nose to her hand as she reached out to give his head a reassuring pat.

Worried she’d be late, as it was now 1:00 in the afternoon, Jenny ran down the stairs, only to stop short when she realized she still had her farm boots on. She ran back up the stairs, grabbed her new pair of shoes with the heels, and hurried back downstairs. She sat down at her kitchen table and took off the boots, throwing them to the side and putting on her fancier shoes.

Richard Alderson entered the kitchen, just as Jenny stood up from her seat, outfit ensemble complete, and looking radiant. “You look just like your Mum there,” he said quietly, taking in the sight of his younger daughter suddenly appearing all grown up. How did that happen so quickly and right before his eyes? He had been there the whole time, hadn’t missed a year of her life. The two of them had been inseparable, especially after Joan had gotten ill and passed away. But now it seemed that all of a sudden his Jenny had gone from being a small girl to a beautiful young woman.

“Thanks Dad,” she said, impulsively giving him a quick hug before heading to the door. “I’ll be back before dark. And if you need me, you know where I am.”

“Aye.” It was all Richard could say, watching Jenny leave the house and enter the expensive car parked out front. He was a man who hid his softer side well and didn’t want Jenny to see the tear that escaped from his eye. While he knew she was growing up and he couldn’t stop her from doing what she wanted to so, he hated to think how empty and quiet the house would be without her. Seeing her leave like that was a painful reminder that she wouldn’t be with him forever. She was growing up and making her own way in the world. He couldn’t stop her independence, nor did he want to, but for a fleeting moment he wished he could have one more day with his little Jenny again.

Shortly thereafter, Jenny, Mrs. Pumphrey, and guest of honor Tricki Woo, arrived at Pumphrey Manor. It was bursting with life, laughter, and music, and it reminded Jenny of parties before the war. A lady took Jenny’s coat and Jenny was soon swept away to go meet with the other volunteers.

“I’m Eliza, nice to meet you,” a lady with sparking blue eyes and light brown hair introduced herself. She wasn’t that much older than Jenny herself, a few years perhaps.

“Jenny Alderson.” She stretched out her hand to shake Eliza’s.

“Grab yourself an apron and I’ll show you what we’re doing,” Eliza said, pointing to the seat of aprons on the coat rack.

It didn’t take long for Jenny to get used to the way of their organizing and doing things. Primarily her assigned job was to make sure that the trays of food were not to run empty, and to serve when those who couldn’t help themselves needed something. She was grateful for the assistance and guidance she received from Eliza, who stood nearby in case she needed help.

About a little over an hour after Jenny started, Eliza came over and gave her a gentle nudge. “You see that group over there?” she whispered, looking in the direction of a group of three soldiers. When one glanced over, she looked down at the tray of food, pretending she was busy.

“What about them?” Jenny asked, looking over and catching the eye of a dark haired soldier.

“There’s one who keeps looking your way. I bet you a bob he’ll talk to you within the half hour.”

“Deal,” Jenny agreed. It was low stakes so surely her father wouldn’t mind her taking up a bet. She wasn’t interested in pursuing a long-term friendship with the soldiers, much less a romance. If he talked to her, she had already made up her mind that she would make that clear to him. She hadn’t long to wait to find out if he’d come, for in a few minutes the dark-haired soldier made his way over to Jenny and Eliza working behind the refreshments table.

Eliza caught Jenny’s eye and gave her a smile as if to say, I told you so. Jenny glanced quickly between the two. “Is there something you’d like?” she asked him.

“Yes, I would love to ask you if you’d care to accompany me and get a glass of punch,” the solider smiled coyly.

Chapter Text

Jenny was taken aback, at first not knowing how to respond to that. “I’m too busy here,” she answered truthfully. “Sorry.”

Eliza stepped over to Jenny and gave her a shove in her side. “Go on, can’t disappoint him. Remember, we’re here for building morale,” she whispered out of the corner of her mouth.

Jenny shook her head. “Really, I shouldn’t.”

“Don’t be a spoil sport! You’ll be as stuffy as the rest of the nurses around here!” the man said, grabbing Jenny’s arm and pulling her around the table.

Eliza followed behind and untied Jenny’s apron. “You earned yourself a good time. Now go and have fun!”

Jenny looked at Eliza as if she were a traitor and then back at the soldier. Quickly taking in his appearance, she could tell he wasn’t bad looking. Quite pleasing on the eyes actually. He was a lad who looked to be in his early 20s. His face had a chiseled appearance with high cheek bones, gray-blue eyes, slicked back hair almost black in color, slim build, but much taller than the others in the room. “I don’t even know your name,” she said, stopping and looking up at the stranger.

“Oh, so sorry! Private Caldwell. Percival Caldwell. You may call me Percy, miss…”

“Jenny. Jenny Alderson.”

“Lovely name. Pleased to make your acquaintance. I saw you from across the room and thought to myself, that girl’s been working so hard all afternoon she surely wants a break. So I went over and saved you. If you don’t want to get something to drink, that’s fine. We can just walk and talk, if you rather. I’d rather. Walk and talk that is. I would like to get to know you better.”

Jenny looked at Percy, trying to get a word in, but the man went on and on, talking about the people he had already met at the party. She wondered if he’d ever be quiet. She thought it funny that she never felt this irritable when Tristan told his stories. But then again, Tristan didn’t talk this much either. She felt as though she had never met someone who had so many words to speak. If he didn’t have a British accent, albeit a London accent (her father always warned her about those London chaps), she might have thought he was American. When he eventually stopped to take a breath, she saw a chance to say something and took it. “I didn’t need saving.” Her blunt statement stopped Percy in his tracks, confused at first what she was talking about. Jenny continued, “You were wrong in thinking I needed saving. I’m more than happy to help the volunteers here.”

“Of course you’re happy to do it,” Percy laughed, seemingly not taking Jenny seriously. “All of us soldiers are happy to do our part by serving our country, but it doesn’t mean we don’t want to go home on leave. Let’s go outside, less crowded. This fresh country air does wonders.” Before Jenny could tell him no, he grabbed her hand and started walking toward the door that led to the garden. “Tell me Jenny Alderson, what do you do here? Are you a nurse? I haven’t seen you before. If I had, I surely would have remembered you.”

“Farmer. Always was, always will be. Mum said that we were born to the land to work the land. It’s me job, important too,” she said, freeing her hand from his grip and eyeing his reaction. He was a strange one, but didn’t seem offended at her trying to remain physically distant. She’d walk with him, but at a distance.

Percy grinned, amused at the girl’s resilience. “I never said that farming wasn’t important.” The two of them walked on, Jenny enjoying only a minute of silence before Percy stopped and added, “I’m getting the impression you don’t like me. Is it something I said? I’ll take it back right now.”

“I don’t know what you want from me, but I’m not interested,” Jenny said, quickening her pace and walking ahead of him.

Percy stepped into a jog to catch up as Jenny continued walking away. “I don’t want anything, besides having your company. It’s a lonely place here, just fellow soldiers, doctors, nurses. I’ve forgotten what women without starch in their clothes are like.” Upon seeing Jenny’s face look at his disapprovingly, he added, “Joking, of course. Not about it being lonely here. It is. I’ve been here for a while and I’m finally getting to leave in a week or so. It’ll be good to be back to civilian life.”

Jenny looked him up and down. Whatever wound he had gotten seemed to have healed. Unless it was his head and seeming desire to hear his own voice, which he was very good at satisfying. She was curious as to what exactly happened that ended him up in the hospital at Pumphrey Manor, but out of all the many things that he had said so far, he hadn’t volunteered the information. She wondered if it would be rude to ask at this point, and deciding she would either get an answer or he’d get upset and leave (both of which were completely fine and agreeable options for Jenny), she decided to ask.“If you don’t mind me asking, since you seem to like to hear yourself talk, what were you here for?” That came out sounding colder than she had meant it and she internally scolded herself for her rudeness.

“You are a cheeky one, aren’t you?” Percy said with a smile, still not offended by Jenny’s forwardness. “It’s my ear, and eyes, but those healed up. To make a long story short, since you seem critical of storytelling, a bomb went off near where I was and I lost some of my eyesight and hearing in my right ear. My eyesight has almost all come back but my hearing in my one ear is still AWOL. The doctor says it doesn’t intend to come back though. So unlike you, I only have one ear to hear myself talk and you’ll just have to put up hearing me with both of your ears.”

Jenny stopped walking. Her heart hurt a bit, thinking what this unusual man had gone through. It couldn’t have been easy, and maybe she had been a bit rough on him. He was only trying to be friendly. She turned to face Percy. “Sorry. That must be awful.”

“It was, but there’s not much I can do about it now,” Percy replied. “I see men down and out over what became of them, and in much worse situations, so I figure I’m one of the lucky ones, I suppose.” He looked down at the young lady in front of him, suddenly realizing that the cold breeze that mussed her hair in such a tempting way for him to touch it and put it back in place, was probably making her cold, as she didn’t have a coat on. “Would you like to go back in? You’re probably freezing and I wouldn’t want you to catch cold.”

Jenny hadn’t really noticed the cold before he had mentioned it, but the cold damp air now seemed to go right through her. “Aye, let’s go in.”

The unlikely pair made their way back inside, and the two soldiers who Percy was talking to earlier started talking amongst themselves. Percy caught their attention and raised an eyebrow at them. Jenny caught his gaze and looked up at him, a little unsure and uncomfortable with what was going on. “It’s probably best if you return to your friends now,” she said, stepping away from him.

Percy looked between his army buddies and the girl who had interested him so. “I’d prefer I didn’t. I must be honest with you. They each bet a shilling I didn’t have the nerve to go talk with you and that if I did that you wouldn’t abandon your post. Well now I win, thanks to you.”

“Your coming to talk with me lost me a bob,” Jenny said, looking over at Eliza who was now preoccupied with another volunteer.

“Let’s split the proceeds so we both come out ahead,” Percy suggested.

Jenny didn’t think it was entirely fair, but she had given of her time and a listening ear. “You can come see me when you collect it. I’ll be where you found me,” she said, turning to walk away.

“Wait!” Percy called out, touching her shoulder. Jenny turned back to face him, wondering what else he could possibly want, and before she knew what had happened, his mouth made contact with hers and he kissed her.

More stunned than anything, Jenny pulled back and stared at the solider. Any feeling of passion or even a small spark between them hadn’t been felt by her. It was more the feeling of being betrayed by putting her trust in someone she thought was just being friendly and nice, but who really wanted more from her. She also felt that she was betraying the love that lay dormant in her heart. She had seen this happen in the movies and most of the time the lady who has been unwillingly kissed slapped the man. Jenny had felt like following suit, but thought better of it since they were surrounded by others. When she finally found the words to say, which felt like minutes to Jenny but in reality was only a matter of seconds, it dawned on her that the soldier probably kissed her to add on to his winnings from another bet he had made. “How much are you winning from your friends for that?” she asked, trying to hide the anger that threatened to come out in her tone of voice.

Percy shrugged. “Nothing. I wanted to do that since we stepped outside but the time didn’t seem right.”

“And it was now?” Jenny asked, her tone getting tenser.

“You’re not upset, are you? I thought it was all in good fun.”

And with that Jenny gave him a slap on the cheek and turned sharply to walk off. She heard laughter behind her from quite a few soldiers. She didn’t care. She needed to put him in his place. That wasn’t the way that she wanted her first kiss to go, and it certainly wasn’t with the right man. She decided to mark that one down as a practice run, and would count her first kiss when she initiated it.

Jenny made her way back to the kitchen and away from everyone else. She grabbed an apron off the hook and put it on, just as Eliza came rushing into the kitchen.

“What happened?” Eliza asked, almost breathlessly. “You shouldn’t have done that to a gentleman! A real lady never slaps a man, especially in public.”

“He’s no gentleman,” Jenny answered sternly. “And maybe I’m no lady. Just a farm girl who needed to put him in his place.”

Eliza was both shocked and dumbfounded at Jenny’s brashness. “Don’t you care what others think?”

Jenny paused in her work of placing food on trays and looked up at Eliza. “No. I care about what I know is right. I did what I needed to do.”

Eliza shook her head sadly. “You’ll never catch a husband that way.”

“I’m not looking for a husband!” Jenny exclaimed, loud enough to get the attention of others working in the kitchen. Noticing their glances, she dropped her voice a bit, adding, “Not everyone needs a man to be happy. I can take care of meself and I will.”

“I can see that,” Mrs. Pumphrey said, stepping into the kitchen, her presence silencing the two younger women. At first she was glad to see Jenny with a young man, but after seeing how the short relationship ended before it ever really started, it had caused her some worry. “How about we go back out and enjoy the rest of the party without getting into a scrape?”

Finding an ally in Mrs. Pumphrey, Jenny nodded and hastily made her way over to her. “If we stick together, no one will mess with us,” Jenny said with a grin.

“How right you are!” Mrs. Pumphrey said, faking a smile and holding back a sigh. She had hoped Jenny would hit it off with some of the younger people there but it didn’t seem to be the right time or right crowd that would fit with the girl who was as free-spirited and self-willed as they came. Still, Mrs. Pumphrey had a soft spot for Jenny, seeing in her a younger version of herself, misplaced among her peers in a different social setting, too old to be a child, and yet too young to be considered an adult. She determined that for the rest of the party the two of them would stay together and have a good time, despite it all.

Chapter Text

Over a week had passed since the party at Pumphrey Manor and Jenny’s faux pas, which had thankfully been smoothed over by Mrs. Pumphrey. Without mentioning a word of it to her father, Jenny had highlighted the good she was able to accomplish and the time she was able to spend with Mrs. Pumphrey and Tricki Woo while glazing over the nitty gritty of the short-lived romance with the soldier, if it could even be called that.

It wasn’t love, Jenny knew that. Love was still in her heart, pining away for a man she knew she couldn’t have. Little things she’d think of or notice would still remind her of him, and when those feelings surfaced, she tried her best to block them out. It would be her only hope of forgetting the love she had for him.

It was a Sunday morning when Jenny was getting Joan saddled up to ride, when there was a knock at the half door to the barn. She hadn’t even noticed the shadow in the doorway, being so concentrated on adjusting the girth of the saddle, making sure the filly wasn’t holding her breath while she tightened it.

“Good morning Miss Alderson,” a familiar voice called out.

Jenny jumped and turned to see Private Caldwell in the doorway. Her heart sunk. She had no idea what he wanted from her and what he was doing there. She had made her decision very clear at the party. She had no intentions of continuing a relationship with him, not even a friendship. “What do you want?”

“I came to return to you what is rightfully yours,” he answered, holding out some coins in his hand. “Come here, they’re yours.” He shook the coins in his hand, enticing her to come closer. “Remember the bet I won? I promised I’d split it with you and I don’t go back on my promises.”

Jenny, against her better judgement, stepped closer, grabbed the money and moved back toward Joan. The horse’s ears flicked back and forth, listening to the conversation and sensing the tension in the air.

Percy opened the door to the barn and stepped in. “Beautiful horse,” he commented, reaching out to touch Joan. The horse snorted and raised her head, trying to avoid his touch at first, before letting him stroke her nose. “Skittish thing though.”

“She’s not usually. She’s a good judge of character,” Jenny said flatly.

“I supposed I deserved that.”

“How’d you find me?” Jenny asked warily.

“I’m glad you even care to ask,” Percy said. “I went into town and asked the first man I saw, ‘I’m looking for the prettiest girl in all of Darrowby. Do you know where she lives?’ He answered, ‘You must be talking about Miss Jenny Alderson.’ I of course agreed and he said, ‘You’ll find her up at Heston Grange.’ I asked him, ‘My good man, how does one get to this Heston Grange?’ He gave me directions, so here I am and here you are, and since we’re here together we might as well make the best of it and spend the rest of the day together.”

Jenny was not as taken aback as she thought she should be. Was she getting used to this curious character, coming at her with a wall of words? In any event, she still had no romantic feelings for him, nor did she even feel touched in the slightest that he remembered to pay her what he thought she was due, going through all the trouble to find her.

She ran her hand along Joan’s side and reached for the reins to lead the horse outside. “I’m too busy to take a whole day off,” she said simply.

“You’re going riding, surely you have time to yourself? I can walk alongside you.”

Jenny admired his persistence, even if that was the only notable quality she found in him. “If you can keep up,” she said, placing her left foot in the stirrup and mounting the horse. The drive was muddy from the snow that had melted from the sun that had peaked out from behind the clouds the day before. Joan started eagerly prancing, ready to go, but awaiting instructions from the girl who sat on top of her. With a squeeze of her legs, Jenny instructed her filly to move on, and Joan took a leap forward, kicking up mud right onto Percy’s uniform. “Sorry about that!” Jenny called out over her shoulder, trying her best to hide her smirk.

“Wait a minute!” Percy called out, running toward the girl and her horse, who had since slowed down to a walk. “You’re such a brat; you do already know that? You did say you would let me walk alongside you. I can’t keep up if you’re always running away from me.”

“That were all Joan’s doing. I never was running away from you.”

“You weren’t standing still, either.”

Jenny pulled back on the reins and Joan came to a halt. “I think it’s best if we give it to each other straight.”

“Meaning?” Percy asked questioningly.

“Meaning I’m not interested in being in love with you. I’m not in love and I’m not going to be. So you might as well focus your interests elsewhere Mr. Caldwell.” Jenny urged her horse to walk on.

“It’s just Percy,” he corrected her, keeping step with the horse. “First name basis with me. I know I was fresh last time we saw each other and I’m sorry. But if you’d only give me a chance, you’ll see I’m not a bad person. I think you’d come around to liking me.”

“I’ve no intention of doing so.”

“You haven’t even given me a chance. I’m due to go home to London this week to be back with my family, but they don’t really care whether I’m here or there. I’d stay here longer if you’d ask me to.” Percy paused, waiting for Jenny to say something, but she she didn’t, so he continued, “Well, why don’t you?”

Jenny sighed. “Why don’t I what?”

“Ask me to stay.”

“Because I think it’s best if you go back to your family. Families should stick together.”

“It’s only my uncle Harold and Aunt Mildred and mother. I don’t think they’d mind if they knew I had such a charming lady as a companion up here.”

Jenny looked skeptical as she glanced down at the man walking astride of her. Family always came first, and the fact that he was passing them off as if they didn’t matter to him didn’t sit well with her. “They’d probably like to see that you’re all in one piece.”

“I’ve written to them. They know already about my injury,” Percy said, absent-mindedly fiddling with his hat that he was holding onto.

Jenny felt that this was only getting more ridiculous as it went on. She couldn’t stand the indecisiveness, as it was so different from her approach to life situations. “If you’re going to stay, you’ve got to make your own mind up! I can’t do it for you.”

Percy’s face lit up by the hope that perhaps Jenny did enjoy his company, and in her own roundabout way, was hoping he would continue on in Darrowby. “You do want me to stay!”

Jenny shook her head. “I want you to go home to your family. It’s where you need to be but you seem to want to stay here. I don’t want you to stay on account of me, because I’m not going to change me mind.”

Though disappointed, Percy tried not to let it show. He knew she’d come around to his charms, if he tried harder and stuck around longer. “I’m glad you see it my way. You may be interested to know that I’ve already gotten a room at a boarding house in town. I just wanted to see what you’d do if I asked you first.”

“You daft begger!” Jenny exclaimed, feeling a mix of frustration and amusement at the same time. “You were pulling me leg the whole time? You’ll pay for that,” she warned him.

“I look forward to the payback, Brat,” Percy laughed. “That of course means I’ll be able to see you again.”

“We both live in Darrowby, I’d say you’d probably see me around,” she replied nonchalantly.

“I mean see you, like this. Can I come back next Sunday morning? We could go out on a walk together.”

His penchant for walking in the cold was quite unusual but Jenny decided it couldn’t harm anything to agree to it. Maybe if she didn’t play so hard to get, the thrill of the hunt would wear off and he’d leave her alone. It seemed the more she resisted, the more intense his pursuit became. And with a little bit of luck, maybe they’d have the snowiest January known to Darrowby and they’d all be snowed in without any way to get to or leave the farm. “Aye, I’ll see you next Sunday. Don’t bother coming anytime before that, because I’m too busy.”

“Oh Jenny, you don’t know how happy you have made me!”

“I only said I’d walk with you. Nothing more.” She urged Joan into a trot. “Now keep up if you want to continue on. Joan needs some real exercise,” she called out over her shoulder, leaving Percy behind.

Much to Jenny’s dismay, the following Sunday’s weather was even warmer than the last weekend. So Percy showed up, as faithful as a dog waiting for its master. Jenny met him out by the gate, Scruff trotting by her side. The three of them made their way out to the road, cleared from all snow.

Week after week, they continued their Sunday morning tradition. Richard Alderson couldn’t help but notice his daughter’s disappearance at the same time on the same day each week. The fourth time she had scurried off, he watched from a distance and saw her meet a young man, who waited for her at the road. At first, he was suspicious, but after seeing how Jenny kept the man at arms length and remembering that Helen had told him that everything was going to be fine, even after worrying herself over Jenny’s private affair, Richard tried not to jump to conclusions nor pry. There really wasn’t anything he could say or do anyway that would make her change things, even if he didn’t like it.

A few weekends had passed, and after Jenny had left for her walk (she always told him when and where she was going, just not with who), Richard decided to talk to Helen about it. “There’s a young man who comes for our Jenny each Sunday morn,” he said, looking at his older daughter as they fed the cows in the barn.

“Has he finally shown his face?” Helen asked. It had been months since she talked to Tristan about her concerns over Jenny being in love, and at this point she thought everything seemed back to normal with her little sister. With being so busy with Jimmy and their family over the holiday, she hadn’t recently given Jenny’s love life much thought.

“Not to me he hasn’t. Just waits for her down by the road.” He looked out of the barn as if he he expected to see the two of them returning. The last thing he wanted was Jenny walking in on the two of them having a conversation about her.

“You didn’t scare him, did you Dad?” Helen teased.

“How can I when I’ve never talked to him?”

Helen smiled. It was just like her dad to be wondering about Jenny and the young man with her but not to do anything about it but be curious. “Tristan knows him. Good man he says. We don’t need to worry.”

“How the hell does Tristan Farnon know about the man who takes me daughter out each Sunday?” Richard asked grumpily. He wondered if everyone in Darrowby knew but him.

“You know Tris. He gets around,” Helen said with a shrug.

“So does Jenny apparently.”

“Oh Dad,” Helen laughed. “You and I both know Jenny can take care of herself.” She had realized months back that Jenny could hold her own. If Tristan hadn’t seemed concerned over the man’s motives, Helen determined that neither would she. It was better for Jenny to experience life for herself than to be resentful because of feeling held back by others.

Chapter Text

Weeks passed and the winter cold had started warming as spring approached. Jenny’s heart had also warmed and thawed a bit more each time she met up with Private Percival Caldwell, but she still made sure she kept him at a distance. She didn’t want to admit it, and Percy would be the last to know, but she was getting fonder of him each week, in a sisterly sort of fashion.

Lambing season was upon them, and Jenny knew that soon her family would be into their busiest time of the year. Her leisurely Sunday morning walks would have to come to an end, if just while the season lasted.

The trees were still bare, but soon the first signs of spring started poking their heads out of the ground. Daffodils of yellow and white started popping up all over Darrowby. “The first daffodils of the season!” Jenny exclaimed, pointing up the road to the side of a wooden gate. “It’s almost spring.”

“And I’m still here,” Percy commented.

“So much for an extra week,” Jenny chuckled.

“You don’t mind?”

Jenny shook her head. “Darrowby’s big enough for the two of us to keep a reasonable distance from each other.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way,” Percy said. After all the time he had spent with Jennny, she had given him no inclination that her intentions had changed. He felt that he had at least found a friend in her, and perhaps that was as good as it was going to get. “After all these weeks, haven’t you found a place in your heart for me?”

“Not that way…” Jenny said, not wanting to hurt his feelings, but feeling that she had to be honest about her own. “I’ve come to like you, but not in that kind of sense that I love you. You’re good natured and all, but still daft. And talkative.” The two of them shared a chuckle at that, knowing the truthfulness of her description of him.

“But you’re not in love with me,” Percy finished for Jenny, who replied with a shrug and then a nod in agreement. “Fair enough, I won’t stop trying. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re everything I’ve ever wanted even if you are a brat at times. Like you Jenny Alderson, I get my way when I want something.”

“The the two of us will be butting heads like goats,” Jenny laughed. “It’d never work.”

They made their way back to Heston, crossing through the meadows, Scruff running ahead and then circling his way back to his girl and her friend. He gave a bark or two, racing up a ways and then back again.

Jenny looked over at what Scruff was barking at. “Scruff!” she sternly called her dog back. “You know better than to bark at the sheep!”

Scruff came back to her side, tail low and wagging submissively, knowing he was in some trouble as she clipped on his lead.

“Is everything all right over there?” Percy asked, looking at the sheep enclosure. “That one doesn’t look well.” He pointed to an ewe away from the others, appearing restless and shifting her weight from side to side.

Jenny followed his gaze to the ewe. “Hold him,” she said, passing Scruff’s lead to Percy. Stepping forward, she quickly assessed the situation. “Looks like we are going to see one of our first lambs this year.”

“Right here? Now?” Percy asked nervously.

Jenny nodded as she got closer to the ewe who was now on her side. “Welcome to Darrowby in the spring,” she said to her city-born friend. The ewe seemed to be struggling to make any progress. “I’m going to keep me eye on her but if I don’t see anything happening soon I’m going to need help.”

“I’m not a farmer like you are. I don’t know anything about sheep and lambs. I better call a vet for you,” Percy said nervously.

“Don’t be so quick. I’m not sure how long she’s been like this. She might be able to do it on her own.”

The two of them watched the ewe carefully, Jenny standing nearby and Percy on the other side of the wall, holding tightly onto Scruff’s lead. As the minutes dragged on, Jenny was unhappy with what she was witnessing. The presentation of the lamb was not in the position that she liked to see. Something had to be done. She didn’t know how long the ewe was in labor and she didn’t want it to go on too long that it would put both mother and lamb in danger. “Percy, listen carefully. Go to the house and put Scruff away. While you’re there get something for me to wash up in.”

Percy looked confused and stood there, staring at Jenny. “You’re going to be a midwife to a sheep? Isn’t that a vet’s job?”

“I’m more than able! We haven’t all day!” Jenny exclaimed, taking off her coat and laying it across the stone wall. She shook her head as Percy scrambled back to the house, hoping he’d be able to grab something useful for her to clean her arms and hands in. “Poor lass,” she murmured as she looked down at the distressed ewe. Jenny then took off her sweater, grateful she had on a short sleeved blouse underneath it.

Percy came back alone, but with a bar of soap and a pot with hot water. “Will this do?” he asked.

Jenny looked down at the pot. It wasn’t up to vet standards, but by the looks of things, they didn’t have time to fetch a vet. “Aye, it’ll do.” She took it, placed it on the ground, and started washing and rinsing her hands and up her right arm.

“You’re not putting your arm in… there…” Percy gulped.

“What did you think I were going to be doing?” Jenny asked, looking up at him. Seeing his worried face, she decided it was best if he wasn’t there during the lambing. “Go fetch me dad. I don’t know where he’s off to, but let him know what’s happening.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” Percy started running off in the direction to the house but then stopped and looked back at Jenny. It didn’t seem right to him for her to be doing the job of a trained veterinarian. “Are you sure you’re all right?” he yelled from across the field.

“I don’t need your help here! Go on!” Jenny called back. The last thing she wanted was someone hovering around, watching her nervously and increasing her troubles.

Percy, being so far away when he asked the question, couldn’t exactly hear Jenny’s response. He managed to make out the words ‘need your help’ and knowing that he surely couldn’t do anything to help with a lambing, barely knowing the difference between an ewe and a ram, knew there was only one thing for him to do. He took off in the direction of the call box, thankful he had a good memory of the time when a cat in the boarding house where he stayed had an impacted tooth and he was asked to call the local veterinarian. Finally he made it down to the phone, picked it up, and dialed the number. It felt like ages until someone picked up.

“Darrowby 2297,” answered Mrs. Hall.

“We need a vet here immediately. I’m at Heston Grange. There’s a sheep giving birth and something’s not right. Jenny, er, Miss Alderson, is trying to help it but it’s not a job for her to do. Please send someone quickly!” Percy said quickly, all the while trying to catch his breath from his recent run.

“I’ll send someone down there as soon as possible,” Mrs. Hall replied. She knew that for the Aldersons to call about a lambing, it had to be serious, as they usually handled even tricky situations. She was curious as to who was on the other end of the phone, but before she could ask, there was a click and he hung up. She wondered if Richard Alderson was able to find a new farm hand. Helen hadn’t mentioned anything about it to her, but she was busy and maybe it had slipped her mind.

Audrey glanced around, looking into the front hall and then back toward the kitchen. Mr. Farnon, who had left on an emergency call up to the Rudd’s place, wasn’t back yet. James was busy in surgery, despite it being a Sunday, taking care of the patients he couldn’t get to the day before due to an emergency case. If it was as urgent as it sounded, that left only Tristan. She hated to disturb him, as he was supposed to be working on a speech or lecture of some kind, but there wasn’t really any option. “Tristan,” she said, lightly tapping on his bedroom door before stepping inside. “Someone up at Alderson’s called. Said they are having trouble with a lambing.”

Tristan looked up from his writing (and doodling) at Mrs. H. She had that look that meant she wanted him to do something about what she was just talking about, and that look usually meant that he did it, whether he liked it or not, with no complaints. “Can’t James go?”

“He’s in surgery. There’s so many people out there, he’ll have trouble getting to them all today,” Audrey said, crossing her arms and raising her eyebrow. “The Aldersons don’t usually call for nowt.”

“On it Mrs. H,” Tristan said, tossing his papers to the ground. He was grateful for the distraction from the lecture, though he wondered what he would find up at Heston.

Chapter Text

Jenny was focused on the work on hand, despite the curiosity in the back of her mind, wondering where Percy had gone off to and if he ever found her father. She was managing fairly well on her own, all things considered. She had felt that there were twins, one facing forward but with one leg bent in. The other was smaller but would be a backwards, hind legs first delivery. Able to ease the larger, forward facing lamb back in, she straightened the bent leg, and at the next contraction, Jenny started to pull the lamb out in a downward motion.

Soon the first birth was completed, so she grabbed some grass to wipe away the mucus on the lamb’s face and poked the nostrils with some grass to help clear it away. It was times like this that reminded Jenny of the reason why she loved being a farmer. The sight of a newborn lamb that she was able to assist coming into the world was worth much more to her than anything money could buy.

Not long after, the ewe continued struggling with her second lamb. Jenny cleaned off her hands and arm again and reached back in. She could feel it wasn’t in a breech position, just backwards. She helped guide the hind legs out during the ewe’s contractions, knowing she’d have to act fast once the umbilical cord was broken.

Tristan pulled the Vauxhall up the drive at Heston Grange, where a very nervous looking well-dressed young man was pacing back and forth. “Keep that up and you’ll wear a ditch in the ground,” Tristan quipped, getting out of the car and grabbing the bag he placed in the backseat.

“Right, you’re right.” Percy stopped his nervous pacing and looked the other man in the face. “The sheep is this way.” He started in a quick walk in the direction of where he left Jenny. Turning to Tristan, he asked, “You must be the vet. Mr. Herriot?”

“No, Lieutenant Farnon,” Tristan replied.

“You are a vet though?” Percy stopped and looked Tristan up and down, as if there were some physical way to make sure that he was who he said he was.

“Yes, I’m a vet. I’m currently training new recruits over in Doncaster for the RAVC,” Tristan explained. He too looked the other man over, not recalling ever meeting or seeing him before. “And you are?”

“Not a vet,” Percy replied, then after pausing and realized what Tristan was really asking, added with a salute, “Private Caldwell, sir.”

Tristan didn’t take time for the formalities. If the lambing was as urgent as they made it out to be there wasn’t time. He continued walking on.

“They’re just over the next hill,” Percy said, pointing not too far away. “It was awful, blood everywhere and Jenny, oh, uh, you probably know Miss Alderson, she was ready to take that lamb right out of there. Can you believe it?”

Tristan rolled his eyes. “Yes, I know Miss Alderson. I’ve known her almost all her life. You haven’t actually told me yet, what’s happening with this lambing?”

Percy looked somewhat surprised but shrugged it off. “She didn’t tell me, just that she didn’t like the looks of it. She said she needed help, so I called the veterinary in town.” The two men came to the top of the hill and looking down, Percy’s eyes got wide. “There she is! And my god, what has she done?” he exclaimed, shocked at the presence of a newborn lamb and the fact that Jenny still had her arm up the ewe’s backside.

It was on one of the last pulls that finally Jenny heard talking on the top of the hill. “We’re coming Jenny!” Percy called out.

Jenny couldn’t answer as she was concentrating on her present efforts at hand. With one last push on the ewe’s part and a helpful pull downward from Jenny, the small lamb entered the world. Jenny grinned triumphantly and started wiping the mucus out of the smaller lamb’s nostrils, not bothering to look up at the two men in front of her.

“Well done, Jenny. You did that all alone?” Tristan said, impressed by the delivery of the lambs. “What exactly was the problem that you had that got me out of the house on Sunday morning?”

Jenny stood up and looked back and forth between the two. She had distinctly told Percy she didn’t need help and then he went and called Tristan, of all people. “She was struggling for a while, not making any progress. Turns out one lamb had its leg tucked under and the smaller second lamb was a hind legs first delivery,” she explained. Then turning to Percy, she added, “I didn’t need any help. I was fine on me own. What’d you call him for?”

“You said, at least I thought you said, that you did need help. I called the veterinary that I had to call last week for a boarder at the house that I stay. Not for the boarder, the boarder’s cat. He had an impacted tooth. The cat, not it’s owner.”

Tristan shook his head. This was getting more and more confusing. “Sorry, but how is this related to Jenny?” he cut in.

Percy shot Tristan a look. “If you hadn’t interrupted, I was getting to the point. I memorized the phone number and called Darrowby 2297. Skull Dale House, something like that.”

“Skeldale,” muttered Tristan under his breath.

“Anyway,” continued Percy, “You should be grateful. If I hadn’t called, he wouldn’t be here, to make sure they’re healthy and that you didn’t hurt them grabbing them like you did. It’s not natural.”

Jenny narrowed her eyes and gave Percy a long hard stare. “I’ll have you know Private Caldwell that I’ve been doing this longer than you think and many more times than you can count on both of your hands! I didn’t hurt her! If I waited till now when Tris showed up they might not be here and alive,” she said sternly. Then looking down at her hands and arms, kneeled on the grass and poured the remaining water from the pot on her arms, wiping them off on the grass.

All three were silent for a moment, alone in their thoughts. Percy felt ashamed, not following through on the instructions he was given. The last time he didn’t listen had disastrous results; however bad it turned out, he realized he wouldn’t be in the Dales if he had listened. He would probably still be somewhere in France.

“While I’m here, I might as well look them over,” Tristan offered, grabbing the stethoscope out of the bag, and quickly adding, “Not that I think you hurt them. They look fine, but I’ve got to do something since I’m here. Keep up appearances and all.” After examining both mother and lambs, he looked back at Jenny and gave her a smile of approval. “These three little ladies are perfectly healthy. Really couldn’t have done any better myself.”

To hear that kind of commendation and praise from someone who meant so much to her, Jenny found herself at a loss for words. Why Tristan still had that effect on her, she couldn’t explain it. “Thanks Tris,” she said with a grin, holding a soft gaze with Tristan for the first time in months. Any hard feelings between them vanished in those few seconds. It felt good, a sense of relief and a burden gone off her shoulders. Tristan wasn’t upset with her, nor did he seem to treat her any differently than he did in the past. Though if Jenny didn’t know better - that he had no romantic interest in her whatsoever - she would’ve thought that the way Tristan was looking at her meant he thought she was really incredible. She knew he was proud of the work she had done and that was all, telling herself not to read more into it than was there.

“Tris?” Percy questioned, startling Jenny back into reality. “You know each other on a first name basis like that?”

“Why not?” Tristan asked curiously, answering for Jenny. He was wondering since he arrived how this Private Caldwell got to be at Heston and how he knew Jenny so well. She hadn’t mentioned anything about a boyfriend, and while Tristan wanted her to play the field a bit and to broaden her horizons, he for some inexplainable reason, did not care for this soldier. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he knew that this soldier and Jenny weren’t a good fit.

Percy didn’t answer Tristan. He was too busy wondering what kind of history Jenny had with Lieutenant Farnon. That adoring look that she gave him as he told her what a good job she did gave Percy some inclination that his friend Jenny might have eyes for another, and that thought irritated his usually good natured soul.

Jenny broke the silence that fell on them again. “Let’s go up to the house and I’ll clean meself up and make a brew. Just wait until Dad gets back and hears about this!” she said, making light of an unusually tense feeling situation as she felt better that Tristan had stood up for their friendship. She led the way back up to the house, walking past both men, who gave each other a quick wary glance before following behind Jenny.

Percy grabbed Jenny’s coat and sweater that she left on the wall, trying to be helpful and make it up to her. “Just wait until your father has to pay up for the quick exam,” he said sheepishly.

Jenny looked back at Percy and forcefully grabbed her outerwear from his arms. She didn’t need any favors from him. “And who’s fault would that be?”

“No charge,” Tristan piped in. “Just don’t tell anyone about it. It was all worth it seeing Jenny having her arm halfway up the ewe’s ass,” he laughed.

“Very funny,” Jenny said, trying to hide the laughter in her own voice, grateful she was walking ahead of her two companions so they couldn’t see her smile.

“It was!” Tristan exclaimed. “You should have seen yourself!”

“And you look any better doing the same thing?” Jenny retorted playfully.

Percy looked at both Jenny and Tristan as they went back and forth teasing and poking fun at each other. He now realized that the teasing Jenny had employed earlier while they were out on their walk before all this had happened was her way of showing affection of some sort. Tristan and Jenny seemed so comfortable together in their banter that Percy felt a tinge of jealousy, wanting to be a part of their camaraderie.

It was only natural then that he glanced down at the Lieutenant’s hands. To his dismay, there was no ring, though he reasoned that during a lambing it might not be right to wear one. With determination strengthening in his heart, Percy decided that compared to Lieutenant Farnon he would have to be twice as charming and twice as persistent to win Jenny over.

Chapter Text

There really was no other option for him. Percy needed to win back Jenny from the clutches of Lieutenant Farnon, who seemed to have an unspoken hold over her. Percy now realized that this was the reason why she had paid him no mind, despite his constant persuasion of being with her every chance she gave him.

After the three of them had a brew that Jenny put on, the ewe and her lambs safely taken care of, and Tristan had left for home, Jenny walked Percy down to the road. She was ready for some quiet time with just her farm work after a morning of hearing both Tristan and Percy exchange experiences of their time abroad. It was almost as if they were trying to outdo the other with what they had seen and done, and for a while she thought that they had almost forgotten all about her until she brought out some scones she baked the evening before. Food was not only a good way to winning a man’s heart; it also did a good job of keeping them quiet.

A little awkward while walking down to the road, Percy didn’t know whether to bring up what had happened earlier or not. Was it a sore spot? Or would she not really care? He decided it was best if he apologized for his misunderstanding. “I’m sorry for the mistake I made. I should never have doubted your ability to care for your animals. It’s your livelihood. Anyone who has a specialty job knows the ins and outs and it’s apparent to me now that you know not just the outside of your animals but also the insides,” Percy said, trying to make light of the situation. “I wish I could make it up to you somehow. It was rude of me to talk down to you like that in front of your… friend… so how about we go fetch a pint at the Drovers this evening? I’ll come by and we can bike there together. What do you say Jenny?”

Jenny, interested in the offer, if only to see if she could spend some time with Tristan without him knowing, thought it a good idea. “What time?”

“I’ll be here at 6 o’clock. Whether you’re ready or not, I’ll wait for you,” Percy simpered.

“Six it is,” Jenny said, turning to head back to the house.

Percy sighed as he looked after her. She was sometimes so mystifying. He couldn’t tell whether or not she was just playing hard to get and truly liked him deep down, or if she was simply indifferent.

Later that night at the Drovers, Percy and Jenny stood near the lit fire, surrounded by local farmers intrigued by Percy’s war stories. He indulged their curiosity by explaining all that he did, leaving out military secrets and making it all seem very important and dangerous. Jenny had heard these stories before, some earlier that very day, and each time he told the story it changed to become more exciting and it made Percy even more of a gallant hero in the eyes of all who would listen. That is, all except for Jenny.

It was surprising to Tristan to find the two of them at his local haunt when he arrived later in the evening. What was even more surprising though was how the young soldier had made himself the center of attention, not just among the locals but also Jenny. She stood by his side, smiling as Private Caldwell recounted the past years. It created a distasteful feeling in Tristan, seeing her hang off Percy’s every word, showing him off like he were some sort of prize bull.

Turning to his friend Maggie, Tristan pointed over his shoulder to the group standing by the fireplace. “Sickening, isn’t it?” he muttered.

“What is? That someone has stolen your thunder?” Maggie giggled.

“He hasn’t stolen anything from me! It’s just that all he thinks and talks about is himself. What he did in France, the people he’s met, how he was the hero. Some of what he says doesn’t even fit.”

“Sounds similar to someone I know,” Maggie winked at Tris.

“Me?” Tristan exclaimed. “You think he and I are similar?!”

Maggie nodded and gave Tristan a look of disbelief. “Don’t tell me you don’t see it. You two are so similar you could be looking in a mirror when you see him.”

Tristan looked back at her in shock. “Just shoot me next time I start off on one of my war stories. Put me out of my misery,” he said, half joking and half upset with himself for being as annoying to others as he found Percy.

James and Helen heard the last part of what Tristan said and shared a confused look. “Everything all right Tris?” James asked.

“Just that I realized how terrible I am, talking like that,” he said, gesturing to Percy.

“Is that Jenny?” Helen asked, standing on her tiptoes to see over the group of people.

“Sadly, yes,” Tristan said, rolling his eyes.

Helen didn’t like the sound of Tristan’s reply. “Is that the man you said she’s in love with?” she asked, concern coating her voice.

“I don’t know. I just met him this morning,” Tristan sighed.

“Popular lad,” James commented. “Shall we go meet him?”

Helen nodded and took her husband’s offered arm. The two then strolled to the group of people surrounding the most popular man in the room. They caught Jenny’s eye and she gave them a nod of acknowledgment. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Helen asked her sister.

Jenny tugged on Percy’s arm and he looked down at his girl. “What is it Brat?” he asked, then looked up at the couple staring at him. “Who’s this?”

“James Herriot,” James introduced himself, shaking hands with Percy.

“You’re the vet,” Percy said, finally realizing that the man in front of him was who he expected to find up at Heston Grange that morning.

James nodded. “I am. And this is my wife Helen.”

“I’m also Jenny’s sister,” Helen said. “Nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine!” Percy said with a charming smile. “Now I see it’s not just Jenny who’s a beauty in the Alderson family. Do you have any other sisters?”

“Just the two of us,” Jenny said quickly.

“Pity. The world has missed many more beautiful women in it due to your parents only having two daughters,” Percy said, feigning seriousness. Turning his attention back to the Herriots, he added, “By the way, I’m Private Percival Caldwell. Civilian now though so you can call me Percy. Jenny does and if you’re family that makes it nice and cozy, doesn’t it?”

Helen smiled at him and then gave James a pointed look. He just shrugged, not seeing any danger or problems with Jenny spending time with the soldier that no one knew anything about.

James decided to continue on a conversation with Percy, to draw him out more and to prove to Helen that he wasn’t much of a threat. “Where do you come from Percy?”

“London. Have you ever heard of the rich and influential Caldwells of London?” Percy asked.

James shook his head no. “Can’t say that I have.”

“Hmm, that is too bad! If you do, let me know. I might come into a lot of money someday if I can prove I’m related,” Percy said, slapping James playfully on his shoulder.

James now looked at Helen with more of a concerned look, and she just raised her eyebrow at him.

“Jenny,” Helen said, pulling her sister to the side. “Can we talk?”

“About what?” Jenny asked, looking back at Percy before stepping away with her sister to a quieter part of the Drovers.

“About him,” Helen said in a hushed voice.

“He’s just a friend.”

“Looks like more than just a friend.”

“I don’t want to argue on this again,” Jenny said with a huff.

Helen gave a sad smile at her younger sister. “I don’t want to argue. I just worry about you. Just promise me you won’t do anything foolish.”

“I won’t,” promised Jenny. From where she was standing, she had a good view of Tristan, who was standing at the bar and talking with Maggie. She wished she could be over there with him, but knew it would raise questions in his mind. Unless… “Want a pint?” she asked Helen.

Helen shook her head. “I’m good, thanks.”

“You won’t mind if I do?” Jenny asked.

“I don’t know why you ask because you’re going to get one anyway,” Helen teased.

Jenny gave her a cheeky grin before walking over to the bar and stood next to Tristan. She cleared her throat, trying to get his attention, the same way she had done almost a year prior after Jimmy’s christening. “Pint please Maggie,” she said, laying down some coins on the bar.

“Coming right up,” Maggie said. “Tris, take a lesson from Jenny. She pays for her drinks.”

“Always trying to show me up, huh?” Tristan said to Jenny.

“Usually it’s hard to do,” Jenny replied.

Tristan grinned as he grabbed the pint from Maggie and passed it to Jenny. “Thanks for that anyway, but flattery will get you nowhere.”

“I’m not trying to get anywhere,” Jenny said, knowing that she wasn’t being entirely truthful. “I better get back to Percy.”

As Jenny walked back to the group that Percy was yet again in the center of, Tristan shook his head. “I don’t know what she sees in him.”

“Mhmm, good for a giggle and not much more you’re saying? If I didn’t know you better Tris, I’d say you were jealous!” Maggie laughed.

“Oh god no. I’m not jealous of that Percy fellow,” Tristan said quickly. “I just want Jenny to be happy and I don’t think he’s the right man for her.” He then went quiet, wondering how Jenny could have gone from loving him to that chatty Caldwell. Didn’t seem right. What man would be right for her? He should have known better that she would find someone else. Every other woman who had at one point shown some romantic interest in him had found their dream man who wasn’t him. Why should Jenny be any different? Not that he was in love with her; he just cared for her.

Chapter Text

Since the day of the lambing, Jenny felt that any wall in between herself and Tristan that she had put up in order to protect her heart from being broken again had been torn down. It didn’t ache as much when she saw him because she allowed herself to speak with him, talk to him like the old days. She knew that she still loved him, but didn’t want to press the issue and cause a rift in their friendship.

Each time she saw Tristan, Jenny worried about him being redeployed. She couldn’t bear the thought of him leaving, possibly never to return. He was told by his superiors that he was needed in Doncaster and so far, there had been no new orders. Everyone seemed relieved at that.

Weeks slipped into months. Leaves darkened and days grew longer and warmer as spring transitioned into summer. Almost a whole year had gone by since Tristan had returned and Jenny’s heart had started playing tricks on her, telling her she was in love with him. Feelings now suppressed, she was able to get back on with her life as normal.

And then there was Percy. He said he was leaving many times but he had stayed. His family would regularly send him some money in an envelope, hoping he would put some of it toward a train ticket back home to London. Inevitably it would be used for his room at the boarding house, food, or on a special occasion, a night out.

Percy not only loved Darrowby and the people who lived there, but one special person in particular. Jenny enchanted him, kept him guessing as to what she was going to say or do next, and never let on that she loved him. She was fascinatingly unique and nothing like the many girls he left behind in London. She was young and so was he, lives completely uncharted for adventures he dreamed of together.

It was with a heavy heart that he read one June morning that his uncle Harold had a heart attack and that it would be best if he came back home. His standing job as a tailor in his uncle’s shop was still open if he desired to continue on working there. Percy hadn’t any intentions of leaving, not until he could get a commitment from Jenny that she would either wait for him, or better yet, would accompany him home to London.

Percy knew that moving Jenny away from Darrowby would be as hard as moving the stone walls that framed the landscape. Parts of her heart may leave with those who she had met from other places, but she belonged and stayed firmly planted in her home at Heston Grange.

So that Saturday afternoon, Percy sat down at his desk in front of the window overlooking the bus stop in Darrowby. He picked up his pen to write a response, debating on what to say. He couldn’t say no to his mother again, not now.

Percy knew what he had to do, and decided to keep his letter short and to the point. Without much deliberation after deciding to keep it simple, he wrote:

Dear Mother,

Terribly sorry to hear about Uncle Harold. I have but one thing holding me back from coming home and I hope that soon I will have a satisfactory conclusion to my business here that will enable me to return to London by the end of the week.

Your son,

Percy

With a quick folding of the note, Percy took it downstairs and out to post the letter, followed by a walk through the countryside that he had started to call home.

That same day, Tristan had promised to fill the Rover up with petrol for Siegfried, so on that Saturday afternoon when he much rather have been playing cricket on his day off, he took the Rover out. There was medicine for a cow that had to be dropped off at the Rudd’s, so somehow he got stuck on that errand as well. After completing the one item on his ‘list’ and promising the Rudd’s that he would tell James how much they appreciated his work there and that they said to give their regards to the whole family, Tristan started making his way back into town.

It was a nice summer day with the sun shining and only puffy clouds that drifted past it to provide some shade. Tristan had the top down on the car and enjoyed the beautiful June weather as he sped along. As he drove over the top of a hill, he started to slow down as he spotted a familiar figure walking along the road. He internally groaned when he recognized that it was Percy.

Whatever the young man’s intentions were involving Jenny, Tristan felt a sense of moral obligation to make sure that Percy was sincere. The first day that Tristan met Percy there had been discrepancies in Percy’s stories of being abroad, and while Tris understood stretching the truth to make a story more exciting for the listeners, Percy’s bordered unbelievable.

The man himself was unbelievable. A jittery solider who put on a pretense of being overly courageous was not a good combination. There was but one way to find out the truth about Percy and Tristan knew how to do it.

Weeks prior, Tristan had sent off a letter to Richard Carmody. Inside the note, after all the niceties and news from Darrowby, he included a paragraph at the end asking Richard if he could do some detective work and investigate a Caldwell family living somewhere in London. Private Percival Caldwell’s family to be exact. Tristan knew that if there was a job to be done and Carmody put his mind to it, there was no stopping him.

About a week and a half after asking for the favor, Tristan got his response in the post. He had taken the letter upstairs to his room for the ultimate secrecy, so no well-meaning yet prying family members saw what he had written about. As he read Carmody’s response, he then realized that he had a valid reason to not trust Percy Caldwell, beyond his dislike of the personality of the young man.

So while Percy was an unwelcome sight as a motorist’s companion, Tristan decided to seize the moment to pry out additional information from Percy’s past.

“Caldwell!” Tristan called out as he slowed the Rover down to a stop.

Percy turned to the Lieutenant and greeted him with a proper salute. “Yes Sir.”

“Need a lift?” Tristan asked.

“If you’re going back into Darrowby, I could,” Percy said, already getting into the Rover. “Nice car!” he said admiring it as he closed the door behind him.

“That she is,” Tristan said proudly, as if he were the owner. “Staying long in Darrowby? You’re starting to become part of the landscape.”

Percy didn’t look over at Tristan and instead focused on the scenery. He would miss it. “Actually, I had plans to stay on longer, but I’m needed back in London. Important business matter I need to attend to.”

Tristan smiled but then remembered not to be overly happy at that and tried his best to put on his best Siegfried imitation. “What do you do for work?”

“It’s a multifaceted job that requires a steady hand and good eye for detail,” Percy explained. “Too complicated for me to say in full. I have some matters that need to be… uh… patched up, I could say?”

“Does Jenny know?”

“I never bothered explaining my job to her. She doesn’t need to know about such things that concern us men.”

Tristan wanted to roll his eyes but stopped himself. “First of all, I meant about your leaving Darrowby, not about your job. And second, I really am starting to feel that you don’t know Jenny at all. She would be interested in knowing that and it’s not beyond her to figure it out. She’s no imbecile.”

Percy shrugged. “Doesn’t matter anyway. She’s a woman and that should explain a lot.”

“I don’t like your attitude Caldwell,” Tristan said sternly.

“Lighten up Farnon,” Percy said with a laugh. “It’s a joke.”

Tristan narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he glanced at his passenger. “What are your intentions toward Jenny?”

“Who are you, her father? Or are you in love with her yourself?” Percy questioned.

“I’m her friend, and I’m best friends with her sister and brother-in-law. Besides, I’m genuinely concerned for her because you don’t seem to appreciate her for who she is.”

Percy rolled his eyes. “Alright Nosy Parker. I was going to ask her to come with me to London.”

“Married or otherwise?” Tristan asked. He started driving slower as they were approaching the town of Darrowby and he wanted enough time to finish the conversation before Percy decided to walk back home.

“Doesn’t matter to me,” Percy said.

As shocking as that might have sounded to anyone else, Tristan knew better than to expect anything more. He asked in disbelief, “You are literally going to take her away from her home and family, keep her around until you are tired of her, and then let her fend for herself in the big city?”

“She’d stay with me if she knew what’s good for her.”

“Caldwell, I’m warning you not to try that. If you do, I’ll know all about your plans and will be obliged to tell Jenny’s family about it.”

“You don’t scare me and this is none of your business!”

“It is my business when it spells disaster and scandal for my friends. I suppose that I’ll have to tell Lillian.” Tristan paused for a moment, continuing to look straight ahead at the road, only stealing a glance once to see Percy’s reaction. “Lillian. Lilly. Lil. Whatever name you knew her by. You remember her? The girl you married before you left for the war?”

Percy went pale. No one was supposed to know about the girl he left behind. He had tried to forget her, staying away as long as he could. When they married they believed themselves so fully in love that nothing could come between them. Then he got his papers and left to serve his country, leaving behind the girl he thought he loved. In the beginning, he thought of her constantly. Slowly, as time went on, she started slipping from his thoughts until he thought of her no longer. It was an infatuation that led to a marriage with vows that neither fulfilled. A simple indiscretion of his past that plagued him constantly and legally bound him by one paper.

Percy cleared his throat. How could he explain all that without getting into the details he had kept a secret all this time? “Of course I remember her. I’ll go home to her.”

“Where does Jenny fit in? Because last time I checked, polygamy is a serious offense.”

“I could get a divorce,” Percy said quickly. “Somehow. I don’t know really. But Jenny’s modern. She might not object to skipping the legalities.”

Tristan couldn’t believe the careless attitude Percy took. It was worse than he had thought. “You’ve always been that way, haven’t you? Not taking directions from anyone. How did you even get along in the army?”

Percy crossed his arms. “You’re not my commanding officer. You don’t deserve to know what actually went on.”

“I might not be, but my superiors know your superiors and they know what really happened to you in France,” Tristan said, purposely setting up a trap for Percy to fall for, though he himself didn’t know what he would discover. When Percy gave him the side-eye, Tristan continued, “How you got your injury. Might it be that you weren’t such a hero after all, like you’ve boasted to everyone, including Jenny?”

Percy uncomfortably squirmed in his seat. “No one really knows what happened.”

“That’s not what I hear,” Tristan said, reaching in his pocket to pull out a piece of paper. “Your superior said… wait, I can’t drive and read at the same time… I’ll pull over.”

“No!” Percy exclaimed. “That’s not necessary. It’s true. I may have been the one who actually set the grenade off. Accidentally, of course. They had no right telling me what I could or could not do!”

“You’re lucky you’re still alive,” Tristan grumbled, putting the paper back inside his pocket. The bait he had put out had worked and he was pleased with himself. This was even more information than Carmody had been able to uncover from Mrs. Percival Caldwell. Tris decided to press his luck and try for more information. “And what about the other soldiers who got injured? Wasn’t there a casualty?”

Percy sighed and hesitated before continuing with the story, the most honest rendition of the story he had told yet. “Private Adams. He told me not to go ahead and instead to wait for orders. He was always overly cautious. If he hadn’t been standing so close to where the grenade went off, he might still be alive today. Not my fault that he didn’t clear out of the way.”

“You don’t even feel a tiny bit guilty?” Tristan asked incredulously.

“It’s not my fault that others were careless! I never got in trouble for what I did, in fact they cleared me, so it’s obvious I’m not to blame.”

“I see,” Tristan said quietly. There was nothing more he would’ve liked better than to see Private Caldwell get what he deserved, though it wasn’t his place to carry out judgement on others. “Caldwell, I want one thing clear between us. I won’t say a word of this to anyone in return for you leaving Darrowby on the next bus or train. Doesn’t matter which one, as long as you go. Alone.”

“That’s blackmail!” Percy exclaimed. “It’s your word against mine!”

“Ah, you’re forgetting something! The note,” Tristan said, again reaching for the paper.

“Oh. Well, in that case…” Percy fumbled. “I’ll think about it.”

Tristan raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you think Jenny would be interested in seeing this?”

“Fine! I’ll say goodbye to her tonight. Make some sort of story up with an excuse why I have to leave in such a hurry,” Percy grumbled.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something. You always do,” Tristan said, stopping the car in front of Higgins’ store. “You can walk the rest of the way.”

“Good day Farnon,” Percy said, making a quick exit out of the car.

Tristan gave a nod and then drove back home. He couldn’t believe the gall of that man. Pretending he was a hero all this time. Though Tristan knew something was different about the soldier, he didn’t realize it had gone that far. Obviously the man had trouble accepting and following instructions, with disastrous results, not to mention a complete lack of morals and a wife no one knew about. Tristan made a mental note to keep an extra watchful eye on Percy from now on.

After parking the car, he pulled the blackmail paper out of his pocket and looked at it, grabbing a pen as he checked off the task: Medicine for Rudd’s. Done.

Chapter Text

The next day, Percy went up to Heston Grange, as was now his custom. On his way there, he thought of what he was going to say when he saw Jenny. He found himself stuck in a predicament. Forced to leave town by a local vet who turned out to be a blackmailer (who was motivated by jealousy Percy suspected), he couldn’t stay much longer. At the same time, he did have a valid reason to go; he was going to go to London, but the timetable has changed.

Wanting and being willing to leave was vastly different from being forced to leave. And Percy was not one to take orders from just anyone.

His second problem was that the blackmailer wasn’t ‘just anyone’. He was a Lieutenant in the RAVC, and if he wasn’t kidding around about having a note from his commanding officer, Percy’s reputation and good name he had made for himself in Darrowby would be all but ruined entirely.

Percy had laid awake the whole night earlier, trying to think of a solution where he would come out victorious. He weighed the odds and thought up different stories he could tell others so that it would be his word and the people of Darrowby against the word of Lieutenant Farnon.

Nothing seemed to work to dig his way out of the hole he had gotten himself into. Living a lie could only go on so far. And how far did he have to go before the lie became the truth, so he wouldn’t know the difference between the stories he invented and the real events that went on?

The stories he would relate week after week were not just for the enjoyment and entertainment of others. He said them out loud to make himself believe the fallacies he thought up. If he had said it then it was made canon in the life of Private Percival Caldwell, making himself a better person than he knew he was. He had created such a life of fantasy that he had started to forget his family he had left back in London. The war didn’t help either. He was so far removed from his troubles and responsibilities at home that they seemed foreign to him.

Percy decided that he would see Jenny one more time and tell her the truth, or at least, a part of the truth. He had to tell her he was leaving. Whether or not she wanted to come with him was up to her. While he had made a promise that he would leave Darrowby alone, he never said that he wouldn’t invite Jenny to come at a later date. He also knew that if she made up her mind to do something she would do it, regardless of other’s opinions.

He walked up to the gate at Heston Grange and leaned against it, waiting for Jenny to make her appearance. He stood looking back at the road and the surrounding landscape. Jenny was a part of all of this. Maybe that was a reason why it was so hard to leave Darrowby.

His thoughts were only slightly interrupted by the sound of Scruff racing down the hill, barking joyously and tail wagging so hard it appeared as if it would fly off. Jenny soon followed.

She knew she had good intuition and could tell that something was off, that Percy was acting differently than usual. “Hello to you too,” she said when she got to the gate.

“Good morning. Sorry, I was just thinking how beautiful it is today,” Percy said, turning to her and smiling. “Shall we?” he asked as he opened the gate.

They had walked along for a while, the only sound between them being the breeze sweeping through the hills. Jenny looked up at her companion, seeing that he looked deep in thought. “Are you all right?” she finally asked, when his being uncharacteristically quiet became disconcerting.

“I’m quite all right,” Percy said with a smile. “I was just thinking how we met. You didn’t like me at all and now look at us. Never has there been two finer friends in all of Darrowby!”

“Is that all?” she prodded.

“I would like to ask you to dinner,” Percy said hopefully. “I wanted to take you to the Renniston but funds are running low, so it’ll have to be the Drovers again.”

Jenny hesitated in her response. She didn’t want this to be considered a date. Things were nice as they were and she didn’t want to ruin a perfectly good friendship. The last time Percy had taken her to the Drovers was when he was apologizing for upsetting her. This time he had no such excuse. Reasons flashed through her mind, none of which she liked. The only way to find out for sure was to agree, which she did. “Drovers is fine.”

“I’ll pick you up at 7:00.”

After a meal and a few pints, mostly to give Percy the courage he felt he lacked to say what had to be said, he cleared his throat, catching Jenny’s attention, which seemed to be on the barmaid and the Lieutenant Farnon her gaze always settled on. Why does he always have to be around here? Percy wondered, slightly irritated. “I know it’s getting late and you’ll have to go home soon but there’s something I’d like to talk to you about.” he said quietly, so as not to attract attention from those sitting and standing nearby. One more glance at Tristan and as Percy leaned closer to Jenny, he added in a whisper, “Outside.”

Jenny looked at Percy suspiciously. “What can be said outside can be said inside.”

“I’d prefer some privacy,” Percy whispered, quickly peeking over his shoulder at Tristan, who happened to catch his glance and returned the distrustful look.

Jenny shrugged and stood up from her seat at the table for two that they shared. Percy also got up and leaving the remaining money due, followed Jenny outside.

Tristan, watching the two from a distance, still had that nagging feeling that he should follow them. He didn’t like the looks of the two of them exiting the Drovers alone in the night, if only for the fact that their solitude could be taken advantage of by Percy, despite the promises made in secret the day before. Trying to ignore his gut feeling that he should secretly watch over the two of them, he turned back to Maggie.

“Are you feeling alright?” Maggie asked, half jokingly and half concerned, pressing her hand to Tristan’s forehead.

“Me? Yes. Why?” Tristan said, positioning himself to keep an eye on Jenny and Percy.

Maggie motioned to the full pint in front of him. “You’ve hardly touched anything. It’s not like you.”

Tristan pushed back the ale toward Maggie. “I didn’t touch it, so you can deduct that from my tab.”

“Don’t tell me this is all because of a sense of duty to pay up for your debts,” Maggie said, pushing the pint to the side and leaning forward on the counter. “Besides, you didn’t pay for that one either.”

Tristan shook his head. “That’s beside the point. This whole thing is more important than that Maggie. I need a clear head because I have unfinished business.”

“Still chasing down those who don’t pay?” Maggie teased.

“You could call it that,” Tristan said, while he thought to himself, Those who don’t pay up for past life choices.

Maggie laughed. “Man of mystery tonight, aren’t you?”

The door of the Drovers closed and Tristan turned to see both Percy and Jenny gone. “Sorry Maggie, got to go!”

“What is it that you wanted to talk about?” Jenny asked.

“Oh, that. Well, what I wanted - needed - to tell you is that - say, isn’t the moon brilliant tonight?” Percy said, changing the subject as his gaze focused on the full moon that had rose over Skeldale House and illuminated the dark streets of Darrowby, casting shadows from the houses upon the cobblestone streets.

“I’ve seen the moon before. Many times,” Jenny said pointedly. She wished that he would stop his stalling and get to the point.

“We’ve never seen it together,” Percy said, looking wistfully at Jenny. “There’s a lot of things I wish we could do together, but we’re running out of time.”

Jenny, bewildered by his statement, looked at him without a word, and waited for him to further explain.

“I don’t know how to tell you this, probably because I don’t want to tell you this, but I have to go back to London. I was going to leave the end of this week but certain… issues… came up changing the circumstances completely. I have to leave early tomorrow morning. My family needs me. My uncle had a serious heart attack and they need another worker to help run the family business. I wish I didn’t have to go. I want to stay here. With you.” The pleading look in his eyes matched the tone of his voice.

The news of Percy having to leave caught Jenny a bit off guard. She had grown to care for Percy as if he were her own brother and the thought of him leaving touched her in an unexpected way. “You have to go,” said Jenny practically.

“Come with me,” Percy said, grabbing hold of Jenny’s hands and pulling her closer so that they were facing one another. He knew he had just broken his promise, but the words tumbled out. He felt as though he had broken character for the first time by unveiling his true yet vulnerable feelings.

Jenny stood there, unsure if this was a marriage proposal or simply a promise of a trip. She had hoped that this night wouldn’t come to this, though she had considered the possibility. “I can’t,” she said simply.

“I’m not asking you to marry me,” Percy clarified. “Not yet. I just want you there. I can find you a place to stay. Not with me, but close enough I can see you often. Think of it Jenny - you and me together in the big city of London. None of your family telling you what to do. No getting up early for hard and dirty farm work that’s not befitting any woman. It would be a whole new life and world to explore with no one there who knows you. What do you say?”

Jenny thought of all she could do if she were on her own and fully considered an adult. The possibilities were exciting. But at the same time she thought of all she would leave behind, and more importantly, the people. Her family was in Darrowby. They were her world, and so far her whole world had been Darrowby.

And Tristan was there. He was still in his hometown and she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him in case he wasn’t there when she returned from London. Jenny appreciated the offer but her answer remained the same. “Sorry Percy, but I can’t. What I love is right here. This is me home and I don’t want to leave.” She slowly pulled her hands away from his. “Thanks all the same.”

Percy, though dejected, did not give up hope that one day she would change her mind. “Will you write to me?” he asked.

“I’m not good at writing letters,” Jenny admitted.

“You don’t have to be. Just knowing that you care enough to write and think of me once in a while is enough for me. I’ll write to you first, once I get home, so you have my address.”

Jenny nodded. The thought of her friend back in London, where the threat of an air raid was much higher than in Darrowby, suddenly caused a worried feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Promise me you’ll be safe.”

“You know me, I’m the lucky one, remember?” Percy joked. When she wouldn’t look him in the eye, he touched her chin to raise her head up. “What’s this now? Jenny Alderson crying?”

Jenny quickly wiped away any tears that tried to spill over. “I’m not crying. I’m glad you’re going home. Finally be out of me hair,” she said resolutely.

“A brat till the end. That’s my girl!” Percy laughed.

Jenny finally smiled up at him. She knew she was acting daft, but the thought of possibly not ever seeing him again hit hard. She didn’t feel the passionate love she had felt for Tristan. This feeling was one that had snuck up on her, catching her off guard and only showing up at the most inopportune time.

“That’s better,” Percy said, smiling back at her. He glanced down at his watch, straining to see the time and barely making out how late it had gotten. “I better get you home before your dad realizes what time it is!”

“So this is it? This is goodbye?” Jenny asked quietly, stepping closer to Percy as a person walked down the street.

Percy waited to say anything until the person had gone up the road. The sound of their shoes against the street seemed to echo through the quiet and dark town. “It’s not goodbye,” he said after the sound of footsteps faded away to nothing.

The gap between them having been closed, Percy looked down at the girl he was extremely fond of, wishing she would have said yes to his offer. He continued, “It’s au revoir. It’s what they say in France. It means ‘until we meet again.’ We will meet again Jenny. Fate wouldn’t have it any other way.” The two of them stood there in the dark, both afraid to break the silence that fell between them. “Jenny?” Percy whispered.

“Aye?” she answered in a hushed tone.

“Since this is probably the last time we have together, just to ourselves, would you allow me to kiss you?” he asked, remembering the outcome of his impulsive act last time.

Jenny nodded and reached up, her lips touching his. Eyes closed, they tenderly shared the moment together, unaware of Tristan standing around the corner in the shadows, listening and watching in disbelief.

Chapter Text

Tristan could hardly have believed his ears if he hadn’t seen what had unfolded before him. Percy really was unbelievable. Percy had specifically promised not to ask Jenny to go to London and there he had asked, plain as if he asked her if she wanted to go to dinner. Tristan worried about Jenny being emotionally involved at this point. Had she completely transferred her affections over to the man who, unbeknownst to her, had a wife waiting for him back in London?

Tristan felt torn between telling Jenny the truth now or waiting until after Percy had left for home. If he told her now, he would have nothing on Percy to get him to leave in a hurry. If he waited to tell Jenny who Percy really was, she might do something she might later regret.

Besides, he was eavesdropping, a terrible habit to have but very well practiced and perfected since childhood. The conversation between the two was enlightening. He had learned how much Jenny thought of Percy and how Percy circled around the truth enough to sound sincere. Those words were meant for just the two of them, but perhaps the worst part was the silence that came at the end of the conversation.

Tristan waited for Jenny’s refusal to kiss Percy goodbye, but it never came. He didn’t want to look, knew it wasn’t right, but couldn’t help himself. He peeked around the corner and quickly recoiled. A feeling of disgust came over him, as if he were in a bad dream and wanted to wake up.

He had to say something. He didn’t know the right time to do so, but it had to be said. He had hoped for a private conversation with either one, but not when they were together. At some point Percy would have to go home. He surely wouldn’t be allowed to spend the night at Heston. Tristan knew the boarding house Percy called home in Darrowby, so he decided to go there and wait.

It had gotten very late by the time Tristan heard the sound of bicycle tires on the street. He felt drowsy earlier but the thought of approaching Percy woke him up quickly. From his vantage point behind the stone building, he couldn’t see who was coming. He smirked as he thought how ironic it would be if it was Mrs. H doing her rounds.

He stepped forward to get a better view. It wasn’t Mrs. Hall. Sure enough, Percy had gotten off the bike and leaned it against the house. He was fumbling in his pockets looking for his keys when Tristan made his presence known. “Need some help?”

Percy jumped out of surprise of hearing someone else when the whole town seemed dead quiet. He shook his head with disdain when he saw who it was. “Last time you offered to be helpful you got me into a mess. I’ll pass, thank you very much.”

“I wanted to believe you when you said you would leave tomorrow. That’s why I’m here. I don’t believe you,” Tristan said, stepping closer. “You promised me that you wouldn’t ask Jenny to go with you but you did. I have no choice now but to tell her the truth.”

“You’re nothing but a blackmailer and eavesdropper, and a damn annoying one too!” Percy grumbled, turning to go inside.

“We’re not done yet,” Tristan said, forcefully grabbing Percy’s arm. “Not until I make sure you have absolute plans to leave tomorrow and that Jenny isn’t planning on going with you.”

“You heard what she said! She’s not coming.” Percy pulled away from Tristan’s grip.

“And how can I believe that when everything else you’ve said has been a lie?” Tristan said brusquely.

Percy sighed and leaned back against the house, slumping down a bit. “You can believe me this once, alright?”

Tristan gave Percy a wary glance.

“Honestly, she’s not coming.” Percy moved to sit down on the stoop of the building. “She told me again, after I took her home. You weren’t there, at least I didn’t notice you, so you’ll have to take my word for it.”

Tristan looked down at Percy, who didn’t seem as intimidating now. More like defeated. For a fleeting moment he wondered if he had misjudged Percy, as he did with anyone who threatened to steal his place among friends. Maybe deep down Percy was just a normal chap, misguided at times, but he was only human. Humans mess up, sometimes in small silly ways and other times in big ways. Tristan always hated to be at the end where others were blaming him for things he didn’t do. He disliked to think that he was making Percy such a bad person in his mind, but Percy was married and there was no denying his indiscretion. Tristan hardened his heart again, but couldn’t feel the intensity of his contempt as he had prior. All he could get out was, “But you are leaving tomorrow?”

“Do I have to show you my train ticket?” Percy said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out both the ticket and a pack of cigarettes. “Want one?” he offered Tristan.

“I don’t smoke.”

Percy took one out of the package. “You don’t mind if I do?”

Tristan shook his head. “My brother smokes a pipe, but I chose not to get started.”

Percy lit up and took a puff. “Ah yes, another sin of mine that you’re too far above. Something more for you to look down on me.” He blew out the smoke into the air, causing Tristan to stifle a choke. “I used to be like you. Hated the smell of them. Some friends of mine got me started when we were in France. Said it calms the nerves. I don’t think it does, but I don’t mind them so much now. It’s kind of like drinking coffee without cream. Bitter at first but then you can’t live without it.”

“I’m not outside with you at 11 o’clock at night to discuss cigarettes and coffee,” Tristan said, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the building.

“You rather talk about me leaving or confessing my sins. Or maybe you want to talk about Jenny. You’re in love with her, aren’t you?” Percy asked, flicking some ashes onto the ground.

“I’m not in love with anyone right now,” Tristan said defensively. “And you’re one to talk.”

“She might go for a guy like you,” Percy said, looking up at Tris. “Get rid of your uniform, the authoritative stern voice, and remove the mustache, you’ll look years younger.”

There was a pause in their conversation where neither had anything to say. Percy concentrated on the rising smoke from the cigarette while Tristan stared off into the night sky.

Percy then quietly added, “There’s a reason why she didn’t want to go with me. You can’t tell me it’s just for her farm. I noticed it the day I met you. I saw the way she looked at you. Her eyes lit up in a way I’ve never been able to light them. And believe me, I’ve tried.”

“You did more than try,” Tristan disagreed. “You succeeded. I saw how attached she was to you. She was crying because she didn’t want you to leave.”

Percy chuckled. “She’d cry if someone took her dog and said she’d never see him again. If she was really in love with me she’d have dropped everything and come with me. I gave her plenty of chances… despite my promise to you. Sorry I couldn’t keep my word though I’m not sorry for asking her.”

Tristan shook his head in disdain. “You’re really something else.”

“So are you. You’re so blinded out of duty and honor for your family that you don’t even see the real reason why you’re going through all this trouble to run me out of town as if I were the villain. If you love her Farnon, do something. Girls like her don’t come around everyday. She knows who she is, what she wants, she’s a hard worker, but can also have fun. If I weren’t married I’d have eloped with her. If I were you, I wouldn’t wait because another man will come along and then she’ll be gone.”

“I’m not in love with her,” Tristan repeated. “She’s like family, so of course I worry about her. I worry about how what she does reflects on her family. I live with her family, and family sticks together, thick or thin. When one of us suffers, we all do. You probably wouldn’t understand.”

Percy dropped the cigarette on the ground and used his heel to put it out. “I do. I used to be close to my family. Then I meet Lilly, married her in a hurry because I knew I’d be called up to serve, and my family didn’t approve of her. You see, they wanted me to marry well and Lil isn’t highbrow. They don’t see much of her. She’s nice though, not as witty as Jenny, but good company. She always made me feel important, like I was someone special. Maybe that’s why I married her. I wanted to prove I could be her hero. Then I got injured and never told her about it, thinking she wouldn’t think me brave or strong enough to not come home complete.” He stood up and brushed off his trousers from the dirt of the stoop. “Now it feels like I’m going home to a stranger.”

“Just means you get to fall in love with Lilly all over again,” Tristan said positively. He slapped Percy on the back. “You’re the guy with no guilt or regrets so I’ve heard.”

“That’s not exactly true. I have just one,” Percy said, stepping over to open up the door. “That I didn’t meet Jenny first, which means she won’t be the girl I’m going home to.”

Tristan gave a half smile as he watched Percy step inside. “Anything you want me to tell her?” he offered.

“Tell her I love her and always will, no matter… wait, no,” Percy said, biting his lip as he thought. “Tell her I’ve left on the first bus out of Darrowby to catch the train bound for London. Then tell her that you love her. She deserves better than me.”

The following day, Tristan watched the bus stop carefully. He kept looking out of the front windows so frequently that he had a feeling that his family was starting to get suspicious. After Siegfried gave him that look (the one where he stares as if to say, ‘I don’t believe you’re telling the truth but continue on and we’ll see for sure’), Tristan decided to go outside, away from curious family members.

This time he wasn’t the one waiting for the bus. He was waiting for the one who had promised to get on the bus. As the bus neared it’s stop, Tris wondered if all that Percy said the night before was just to appease him and that he truly had no intention of leaving.

It was to Tristan’s relief that he saw Percy sauntering over to the bus, bag in tow, coming from in the direction of the village green. So as not to make a scene, Tristan stepped inside the grocers and watched from in there. Once the bus took off and no one was left behind, a deep sense of relief flooded over Tristan. Percy was gone. Hopefully for good.

Now things could get back to the way they were. Is that a good thing? Tristan wondered. Before Percy came into the picture Jenny was upset with him and his refusal to take their relationship beyond being friends. If things could go back to before that, perhaps before the war, then everything would be better. Times were simpler then.

But Jenny was no longer a child and he was no longer the immature person he used to be. At least he hoped not. Both of them had changed, for better or worse, and whether Percy was there or not didn’t change that fact.

Tristan shrugged off his own thoughts and focused on the positive. He accomplished what he had set out to do and to top it off, did it very well. He only wished he could share his success with someone else. Carmody was the only one he had confided in, so he decided to write a note and post it, as the information he had was much too delicate of a matter to be shared over the phone where inquiring minds with prying ears could go to the extension upstairs and listen in.

Feeling all too proud of his good detective work, he was halfway upstairs when he was stopped in his tracks by Mrs. H. calling his name from the kitchen.

“Tris! Your delivery has arrived!”

A bit confused, his curiosity quickly won him over and he dashed down the stairs and to the kitchen, where a red bicycle was leaning against the table.

“He said it weren’t the color you wanted but you’d take it anyway,” Mrs. Hall explained.

“Wait, what?” Tristan asked, clearly confused.

“A man came and dropped it off. He insisted on bringing it in to show you. You weren’t here so I promised I’d get it to you. Said it were for you with no charge. Left a note tied on it too. I didn’t know you bought a bike.”

“I didn- oh,” Tristan stammered. The bike. Percy’s bike that he was riding the night earlier. “He said it was paid for?” He was really hoping it wasn’t stolen or rented so he wouldn’t get stuck with the bill, even if it would be his comeuppance for all the times he made Jim or Siegfried pay.

Mrs. Hall nodded. She stepped closer to get a better look at it. “It’s a nice bicycle. What are you planning on doing with it?”

Tristan shrugged. “Ride it. What else?” he said with a chuckle as he took the bike by the handlebars and rolled it out to the back door.

Siegfried was coming in as Tristan was leaving. “What’s this?” he asked as he stepped to the side, making room for Tris.

“Looks like a bicycle to me but I have to make a thorough examination before I can know for sure,” Tristan said sarcastically as he took it into the driveway.

Siegfried gave him that wary look again before stepping inside. “I don’t know what he’s up to but he’s up to something and I don’t like it,” he told Mrs. Hall.

She shrugged as she went back to her work of cleaning up the breakfast dishes. “He might be acting a bit suspicious like but if he wants a bicycle of his own who are we to stop him? Maybe he’s trying to cut back on petrol use.”

“Possibly…” Siegfried trailed off, glancing over his shoulder, and then sneaking one of the remaining pieces of toast with jam that miraculously Tristan hadn’t gotten to. Satisfied that Mrs. Hall didn’t see, he walked back through the hall toward his study.

Audrey looked over at Dash, who was sitting nearby and watching her every move in case something delicious happened to fall. “He didn’t even share with you. I know.” She bent down to pet the spaniel on his head. “Those brothers are as sneaky as each other but they don’t realize it.”

Tristan pulled the bicycle into their shed and leaned it against the wall. It was a nice bicycle but he wasn’t going to accept this from Percy until he read the note. It could be considered bribery of some sort.

He unfolded the note and quickly read it:

Tris—

I can call you that since Jenny does and you can’t correct me since I’ll be gone by the time you read this.

Keep the bicycle for your troubles. Lord knows I gave you plenty. I bought it but can’t take it back with me and I don’t have a use for it anymore.

It’s another nice day. If you have off maybe Jenny would like to go for a ride with you?

Remember what I said last night. She’s a nice girl and you’re good to her. What’s holding you back?

— Percy

Tristan folded the note up again and put it in his jacket pocket. As much as he wished to crumple it up and throw it away along with any memory of Percy, he decided it was best to keep it as proof of ownership of the bicycle.

He looked outside the shed. It was another warn sunny day and it would be nice to try the bicycle out. Making sure no one was watching what he was doing, he got on and pushed off. He didn’t have a plan of where he was going, just a bit out of town. Somehow, without giving it much thought, he ended up near Heston Grange.

Tristan slowed down as he approached the farm. He hadn’t meant to end up there. If he were on a horse he would have blamed it for taking the route it had always gone, but it wasn’t. It was only a bike with himself subconsciously going to the place where he should go. He could stop in and check on how the animals were - really only to see how Jenny was. Then thinking twice about it, she might get the wrong idea.

He wanted to tell her the truth about Percy but somehow it didn’t seem as urgent. It would wait for another day. For now peace had fallen over Darrowby and he would let it lay for a while. Before turning around and going home, Tristan let his gaze land on the farmhouse, silently wishing Jenny well out of a grateful heart that she was still there instead of on a bus bound for the station to catch a train with a destination of London.

Chapter Text

Two weeks had gone by, slowly at first, and then quickly. Back into the new routine - which was really Jenny's old routine from years prior - Sunday mornings resumed the farm work as every other day was. There wasn’t any man waiting for her by the gate. Scruff didn’t get his walk. On the bright side, Jenny didn’t get her ear talked off.

There were a lot of ‘maybes’ floating around in Jenny's mind. She learned at last what the feeling called bittersweet was. She felt fine, as though nothing at happened at all. Was it a sense of relief not to be tied down to someone who expected more from her? Whatever the feeling was, she also felt a sense of sisterly regret. Maybe she hadn’t treated him as well as she could have. Maybe she didn’t try hard enough.

It wasn’t her fault that Percy had to go home to London. It was inevitable that he would have to leave. She wasn’t ready to commit to go with him, especially on such short notice. A visit perhaps, just like the visit she took with Doris to go to Leeds.

Did he miss her? Or did he find some new girl to go for walks in the park with? Someone who he could tell all his stories and show her how he was the hero. Maybe some girls would think he was a catch. Maybe he really was. For Jenny, she knew there were other fish in the sea, and so she would wait for the one she really wanted, and throw the other one back for someone else.

It takes patience to wait for someone else to realize their feelings. Everyday she would hope that Tristan didn’t find someone else. She wouldn’t know what to do, after all this time of hoping and praying (despite knowing that prayers don’t work that way - they didn’t save her mother.) Maybe one day Tristan would open his eyes to her devotion to him. An unfailing devotion unparalleled to anyone else besides perhaps a wife.

Unlike being with Percy, thinking about Tristan gave Jenny an exciting warm feeling in her heart. That is what is called a burning love. It started strong, then the flame almost went out and was practically extinguished, but she kept what little was left alive, all because of a small flicker of hope. She couldn’t help feeling what she felt. If she let it, it could probably become one of the greatest love stories, but it wasn’t the right time yet - not until Tristan felt the same. Then they could share the feeling together. That burning sensation.

“Ow!” Jenny exclaimed as she quickly pulled her hand back from the steaming teapot. She blew on her hand in a fast attempt to ease the burning feeling and then ran water over it. That was one way to get herself free from her thoughts on a quiet morning.

She went back to her teapot and poured the water into the two teacups. Tea was always weak these days with the rationing but she made do. She always would make the best of her circumstances.

Jenny went back over to the eggs she scrambled and after making sure they were cooked through called up the stairs, “Breakfast’s ready!”

“Be down in a minute!” her father answered.

With an ease that signaled she had been doing it for a good part of her life, Jenny set the table and placed the made up plates down. She put the toast in the holders and got the teacups in their respective places. Satisfied with her work, she proudly looked over the spread and rubbed her hand along the burned mark on the corner of the table. She wanted to do her mum proud, in whatever she did.

Richard came downstairs to the smell of a freshly cooked breakfast and a completely set table. “Looks good love.”

“Thanks,” Jenny said with a smile, sitting down.

“Later start for breakfast last week and today,” her dad commented. “No young man of yours waiting for you?”

“If you mean Percy, he’s not my young man,” Jenny clarified. “He’s gone back home to be with his family. To London.”

“That’s where a man should be, with his family.”

“I know. I told him so meself,” Jenny agreed before taking a sip of her tea.

Richard bobbed his head in approval. “You miss him?”

Jenny almost choked on her tea. She placed down the teacup and gave a cough into her napkin. “I don’t love him!”

“I didn’t ask if you loved him,” Richard said plainly.

“I guess I miss him,” Jenny said, unsure how to word it. She knew how she felt but to get those feelings into words for another person to understand was another thing. “No, not really,” she said as she changed her mind. She decided that if she had really missed Percy, then she would have known for sure, instead of feeling indecisive.

The two of them concentrated quietly on the food before them. Jenny looked up at her father. She hadn’t told him about her last night with Percy and knew she’d feel better if she opened up. “He asked me to go to London with him.”

Richard looked up, a slightly alarmed look on his face.

“I told him no. Not then, not later,” Jenny reassured him.

“I’m glad you have some sense in your head.”

“You know I wouldn’t run off with a man,” Jenny said with a roll of her eyes.

“I hope not.”

“Dad…” Jenny said, exasperated. “You know me better than that.”

“Would you have gone if he asked you to marry him?” Richard asked.

Jenny looked down at her plate, picking at the remaining bit of egg with her fork. Looking up at her father she replied, “No. I didn’t love him then and still don’t. Besides, someone’s got to take care of you!”

“Take care of me? What do you think I did before you came along?”

“You had Mum,” Jenny pointed out. “And then Helen. They’re not here, so now you have me.”

“If he were the right man for you, you woulda gone. I wouldn’t have stopped you, long as he did the right thing by marrying you first.” He placed his hand over Jenny’s and gave it a loving squeeze before pulling out his chair and taking the two empty plates to put them in the sink.

Jenny stood up from her seat at the table and put on her apron to do the dishes.

“You said you don’t have a young man coming today?” Richard asked, squinting as he looked out the window.

“He’s in London for good,” Jenny said.

“I’m not talking about that Percy chap. Look.”

Jenny came over next to her father and looked out the window. She blinked to make sure she wasn’t seeing a mirage. “It’s Tris!”

Quickly untying her apron, she flung it over the back of one of the chairs and ran for the door. Before leaving she poked her head around the corner. “Leave the dishes for me, I’ll do them later!”

“He might not be here -“ Richard started before hearing the slamming of the door. “For you,” he quietly finished. “Course he is.”

Jenny ran outside before gathering her composure. “Tris! What are you doing here?” she asked almost breathlessly.

“A few matters of business,” Tristan said, reaching into his jacket pocket before stopping. “How did you know I was here? I didn’t even get to the door.”

“Dad saw you coming from the kitchen window,” Jenny explained, smiling when her gaze landed on the bicycle. “I’m glad he gave it to you after all.”

Tristan turned to look at Jenny. “Wait, you knew Percy was going to give me the bike?”

“I suggested it. He wanted to give it to me but I don’t need another. Can only ride one at a time,” Jenny said, “So I thought you might like it. He weren’t going to keep it and you don’t have one, at least I never see you ride.”

“It does come in handy when you don’t have a car,” Tristan agreed.

“What kind of business did you want to talk over?” Jenny asked, more serious than her tone was before. “Should I get Dad?”

“No, it was actually between you and me. I wanted to tell you personally that I’ll be leaving,” Tristan started.

Jenny looked at him quizzically. “You just got here.”

“Not leaving Heston,” Tristan corrected. “Leaving Darrowby. I’ll be gone for three months in Doncaster for training others. New recruits are being brought in droves to help fill the ranks that are left unfilled due to injuries or casualties.” As much as Tristan hated to leave his comfortable routine and home life, there was no arguing or compromising with the army, and so he would have to go.

Jenny’s heart sunk but she put on a straight face. “You will be back?”

Tristan shrugged. “Hopefully, that is the plan as of now.”

Jenny gave a half-hearted smile. “You came up here to say goodbye? Just to me?”

“That and…” Tristan looked at Jenny, a more reserved version than the excited personality he had seen just seconds before. She must have assumed that he came to talk with her for pleasure, not business. The words of Percy’s note that came with the bicycle came back to mind: If you have off maybe Jenny would like to go for a ride with you? “It can wait until later. Do you want to go for a bike ride? I have to try this one out somewhere other than between my house and yours.”

“I’m sure Dad won’t mind,” Jenny eagerly agreed.

“One condition though,” Tristan said hesitantly before she took off in search of her bike. “This isn’t a date. This is just a ride between friends.”

“Alright, so we’re just friends.”

“And no talk about us.”

“No expectations or commitments.” Jenny figured that to have Tristan as a friend was better than not having him in her life at all. She would try her best at keeping her feelings to herself while embracing the agreed upon platonic relationship, as hard as that might be. “I’ll be right back, don’t leave!”

“I won’t,” Tristan promised.

Jenny went back inside the house to get Scruff. “I’m going for a bike ride with Tristan so I’ll be home later,” she told her dad. He of course, had no objections. Objections he knew only caused her to try even harder to do and succeed on the things he forbade.

Jenny looked in the mirror before she left. Her hair was still neatly up in the milkmaid braids, which would keep it out of her face for the bike ride. After being satisfied with her appearance, she stepped back outside.

Scruff went to go see his visitor while Jenny got her bicycle. “Ready when you are,” she said. “Where are we going?”

“I was hoping you had a suggestion,” Tristan laughed.

Jenny shrugged. “Well, I do know one place. It’s not close but I think you’d like it.”

“Lead the way,” Tristan said, mounting the bike.

Jenny got out to the road, Scruff running by her side. “You said to lead the way. Is that because you won’t be able to keep up?” she asked, riding alongside Tristan.

“Because I don’t know the way. Don’t doubt my abilities, I’m in excellent shape,” Tristan said.

“Hmm…” Jenny looked him up and down. “We’ll see.” She started pedaling faster and quickly took the lead.

“It’s not a race!” Tristan called out to her.

Jenny laughed. “That’s what you think!”

The two of them had cycled through the Dales for a half hour, going farther up into the remote areas of the countryside, streets lined with trees from the surrounding forest. Tristan, not one to be deterred but also not one for suffering, wondered where she was taking him and how much longer it would take to get to their destination. “Jenny, where are you taking me?”

“It’s a surprise!” she answered smugly. “Large hill ahead. Think you can make it?” she asked, slowing down to his pace.

“That? Of course I…“ Tristan sized it up. His confidence wavering, his words proved stronger than his actual ability. “What do you take me for? A weakling?”

“You are so much older than me,” Jenny said in a sarcastic tone. “I have concern for my elders.”

“I’m not that old!” Tristan retorted.

Jenny raised an eyebrow. “So now you’re only old when it works for the situation? Because I distinctly remember you telling me, and I quote, ‘I am much older than you,’ unquote. Do you stop getting older than me once you hit thirty?”

“I did say that,” Tristan said, memories of that eventful day flooding back to him. “But where do you get thirty from? I just turned twenty-nine!”

“Still much older than me I guess. I’ll watch you from the top of the hill, since I’ll get there first.” Jenny got a fast start down the first hill to have a running start up the next. After she made it to the top, Scruff following behind and panting, she turned to look for Tristan. “Tris? Oh. That’s cheating," she said in a disapproving tone.

“It’s not cheating,” Tristan huffed. “Pushing your bike is not cheating. As long as you make it to the top, you win, since this is some sort of competition.”

“You’re daft!” Jenny laughed. “We’re almost there now. Just around the bend.”

“Just to prove my prowess to you, on the way back I’ll go down that hill without holding on to the handlebars,” Tristan said.

“That’s a brilliant idea," she said sarcastically. "And I’ll have to try to carry you back home after you break your neck!”

“I always used to try riding without holding on, and I rode without breaks. Of course, that was in my youth.”

"Which was so long ago."

The two friends shared a laugh. They turned the corner and went over a rather tall bridge that went over the river below. “If we leave our bikes here we can walk the rest of the way,” Jenny suggested.

“As long as you know the way back,” Tristan said warily. His forest ‘shortcuts’ never did end up becoming short.

Jenny leaned her bike along the side of the bridge and walked down to the river. It meandered its way into the forest and as they followed it against its flow, it ended into the pool of a small waterfall. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

“Sure is. Seems like something out of a movie.”

“Next month the bilberries will be ripe,” Jenny said, checking the bushes that grew nearby. “I come up here each August for berry picking. No one knows this place exists. Have it all to meself.”

“You trust me with your secret place?”

“I trust you with a lot more than that. Besides, I proved I can get here faster than you can.” She sat down on a rock near the bank of the water and crossed her legs. Scruff settled down next to her. “When are you leaving? For Doncaster?”

“Next week,” Tristan answered, sitting down a little ways from her.

“All my friends are going away I guess,” Jenny said, reaching down to stroke her dog’s head. “Good thing I have Scruff for company.”

Tristan pulled out an envelope from his jacket’s pocket before removing his jacket completely. The warmth of the day was too much for formalities. He laid it across a fallen log nearby and pensively tapped the envelope on his leg.

Jenny didn’t notice the letter. She had gotten up and found a stick to throw for Scruff. Any sort of distraction was better so she didn’t show Tristan her true feelings about his leaving. “Go get it Scruff!” The spaniel, despite being tired from his long run, got up again and chased after the stick. He faithfully brought it back to his girl and they repeated it a few times.

Meanwhile Tristan had gotten out a pen he kept on him and started doodling on the outer envelope that had Jenny’s name written on it. It marred the paper but he continued sketching the scene before him despite the letters taking the foreground. It was so peaceful there that he could almost forget about everything else happening in the world. He drew the waterfall in the corner, the trees surrounding it, Scruff holding a stick in his mouth, and finally, as most of his masterpieces were, the finishing touch of a pretty girl.

Watching Jenny now, it was another stark reminder that she wasn’t the little girl he left at Heston years ago. She was a woman who had grown up faster than others her age due to circumstances beyond her control. He too had missed a mother figure for a good part of his life, but he hadn’t had to work like she did at such a young age. He hadn’t the worries of hoping things would turn out alright being at the mercy of the land and livestock. In some ways, Jenny had surpassed him in experience.

Other times she appeared that she still had a sliver of her childhood left. That was when he wanted to protect her, to keep some innocence in her, such as her belief that people are good and honest. He didn’t want her to be hurt.

That was why Percy had bothered him so much. He could even have been considered the bane of his existence, the arch enemy, the rival. A rival was a funny way to think of Percy, but somehow it fit. Rival for a friendship that Tristan honestly missed. He wondered if that was how Siegfried felt about Gerald, who wanted to take Mrs. H. away from all of them. Percy too had wanted to take Jenny.

And so if Tristan felt that way about Percy, than it was only logical for him to conclude that his feelings for Jenny went deeper than he originally thought. The realization was shocking at first, and then it all fell into place, like the final pieces of an unsolved puzzle. He didn’t want to admit it to anyone, not even to himself. It couldn’t be and wouldn’t be.

Studying his sketch on the envelope, he finally realized what he was drawing and why. He was about ready to crinkle it up and throw it away when Jenny came over. Deep in his thoughts, he hadn’t even noticed her nearby.

“What’s that?” Jenny asked, looking over Tristan’s shoulder.

Chapter Text

Caught red-handed, Tristan’s first reaction was to crinkle it up, but Jenny was too fast. “You drew this? Just now?”

“Just something to do,” Tristan shrugged it off.

“It’s beautiful!” Jenny exclaimed. She had heard of Tristan’s artistic abilities but hadn’t seen it until now. If this was only a quick sketch, she longed to see something he had taken time on. She flipped the envelope to the back. It was opened but still had a letter inside. “Is this for me?”

The hesitation in Tristan’s reply alerted Jenny to the fact that there was some sort of catch. “I didn’t write it, but yes, it’s for you.”

Jenny flipped the envelope to the front again and looked at her name in the fancy script across the front. She was so enthralled by Tristan’s drawing that she had ignored her name on the front. She looked closely at the handwriting. Percy. “How’d you get this?”

“He sent it to me. He didn’t want your father getting suspicious.” Or his wife, Tristan silently added. “You see, it’s not as strange if he sent it to me instead of a girl. Less commitment expected from him.”

“Did you read it?” Jenny asked, holding it in a way that the back flap opened as if to prove her point.

“It was open and in a note he wrote to me he said I could look it over, to approve it.” After receiving a blank look from Jenny, he added, “I have the letter at home to prove it!”

“Then I take it it’s no great love story or confessions.”

Tristan shook his head.

“I didn’t know you were such good friends for Percy to trust you like that. I always thought you didn’t like him. But I see I were wrong,” she said, lifting up the letter.

“Well… not good friends exactly… but we understand each other better now. I think,” Tris said.

“Percy can wait. He always has. Right now I have you, and that’s all I need. As a friend, of course. Nothing more,” Jenny said, placing the letter down on the log and putting a small rock on top of it as a paperweight. She found another particularly smooth stone and flicked it into the water, making it skip.

“Not bad!”

“Not bad? That was good!”

“Well watch this,” Tristan said, getting his own smooth stone and skipping it across.

“Not too bad yourself,” Jenny complimented him. “This is a good swimming hole. Better than the one Helen liked to go to. Did you know that she found James there? He used to go when he was new to Darrowby.”

“Jim swimming? With Helen?”

“She told me he went in without any clothes on at all,” Jenny whispered.

Tristan’s eyes got big. “She told you that?”

Jenny nodded. “She didn’t say if she went in while he was there swimming. Do you think they went skinny dipping together?”

“Jenny Alderson!” Tristan exclaimed.

“What?" she asked in surprise. "If there’s anyone I can talk to about these types of things it would be you. You’re just as curious as I am on matters like those so you shouldn’t judge.”

Tristan shrugged. He didn’t want to be a gossip, but it was interesting. “I guess I didn’t know that you had a dirty mind.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me Tristan Farnon.”

“Like what?”

“We made a pact not to talk about me and you.” Jenny grabbed a twig from a nearby tree and broke it off, poking the water below and making ripples in the water. There were a lot of questions she'd like to ask Tristan, especially as they were in the comfort of the silent forest, but now was not the time. She had promised and she wouldn't go back on her word.

“I said not about us together, like us as boyfriend girlfriend," he clarified.

“I rather talk about you.”

"What is this?" Tristan teased. "Some sort of truth or dare game?"

"Sounds like fun!" Jenny laughed. "Truth or dare?"

"Oh no!"

"You brought it up,” Jenny pointed out. “I want us to be honest with each other. There’s no one else here but us and what is said here will stay here. So, truth or dare?"

"Truth," Tristan picked.

“Alright. What’s your greatest fear?”

“I’m not scared of anything,” Tristan retorted.

Jenny crossed her arms. “Then I’ll have to dare you to do something because everyone’s afraid of something. We’re playing by the rules.”

“Snakes.”

“Snakes?” Jenny repeated in surprise.

Tristan nodded. “Snakes.”

“Even a little garter snake?” she asked in disbelief.

“I haven’t seen one since I’ve been back,” Tristan said as he thought about it. “But a snake’s a snake, whether it’s Cairo or Darrowby.”

“What happened in-“ Jenny started to ask before Tristan asked his own question.

“My turn, remember?” Tristan said quickly. “Have you ever done anything illegal?”

“You didn’t ask me if I wanted to tell the truth or accept the dare.”

“You wanted to talk, didn’t you?”

Jenny shrugged in agreement. “Only if you promise not to tell, otherwise I’ll get a whollop from me dad that’s been years in the making.”

“Scout’s honor.”

Jenny smiled coyly in reminiscence before telling him. “Once when Dad went to go visit his brother and James and Helen stayed with me at Heston, I snuck out of me room at night and went down and stole Dad’s whiskey. I took it upstairs and drank half the bottle whole time he was gone. Two drinks a night. Didn’t trust meself with more because I didn’t want to get too drunk. I was 14 then.”

Tristan grinned. Her story was relatable, to say the least. “Had a taste for the good stuff then, huh?”

Jenny nodded. “I never told him and all this time he thinks James drank down the bottle!”

“Does James know?”

She shook her head. “I told Dad not to blame it on James. He’s his only son-in-law and deserves a break.”

“You are bad!”

“No worse than you!” Jenny exclaimed defensively. “Alright Mr. I Don’t Play By The Rules so no dare option for you. If you could swap places with anyone in your family, who would it be?”

“James,” Tristan replied quickly. “He always does the right thing and rarely gets in trouble with Siegfried. He has his own family, is a full partner at the practice, and did his part for the war effort but doesn’t have to worry about being called up again.”

“James is nice but I’ve…” Jenny said trailing off.

“You’ve…” Tristan urged her to continue with her thought.

“I’ve always liked you better,” she said with a blush. “Nothing against James, but you have a bit of the rebel in you. Like me. James always does what is good and sometimes I just don’t understand how he can be so good all the time.”

“It must be nice to always do the right thing.”

“Not nearly as fun.”

“Okay, so next question, If you could go back in time what would you change?"

Jenny sighed. He would have to ask that. Everyone has regrets of some sort and she was no exception. Right then there was one that stuck out in her mind. She had to be honest. "I wouldn't have told you last year that I loved you. You were right. I needed to grow more, meet more people."

Tristan couldn't help but feel a bit disheartened at that. She had grown out of her crush, but he wasn't as relieved as he thought he would feel. He put on a smile anyway. "Always know best, don't I?" he chuckled.

"I wouldn't say that..." Jenny rolled her eyes. She threw the twig a distance away and Scruff ran off to go fetch it. "Okay, my turn. Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Are you in love?" Jenny asked. It was only fair to ask him an equally hard question.

Tristan looked at her blankly. "You said we weren't going to talk about love."

"It doesn't have anything to do with us," Jenny defended herself. "It's a general question."

"Fine. Maybe."

"Maybe what? If you're maybe in love that means you aren't."

"Then yes."

"How interesting," Jenny said mysteriously. That was not the answer she wanted to hear. She almost couldn't bear the thought of him falling in love with someone else.

Tristan cleared his throat, ready to move on. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

“Where do you see yourself in five years?” he asked.

Jenny looked over at him, a flash of longing in her eyes before she looked away. She wished she hadn’t thought of this game as it was getting out of hand. She couldn’t respond the way she wanted to, not truthfully. It would break her earlier promise and breaking a promise was worse than breaking the rules.

It would have been so easy to tell the truth if she weren’t sworn to a platonic relationship. What she really wanted to say was, “That completely depends on you. I will give you my whole life and it’s yours to do what you want with. I’ve wanted you and I still want you. I want to be the woman you come home to, the one you make love to, the one you laugh with, cry with, take care of. The only one you love. The mother of your children. The woman you grow old with. It doesn’t matter where I’ll be in five years, ten years, 50 years, because if I’m with you that’s all that matters.”

But Jenny was not some heroine from the final chapter of a romance novel. She was only a farmer’s daughter with a secret love tucked away in her heart. How does one answer that type of question honestly when the truth begs to come out but simply cannot?

Jenny’s honesty was vague but would do. “Five years? You don’t want my whole future life story?” she joked. “I’ll probably be at Heston with me dad. Farming since that’s me job and the only one I know well. Someday I might have children. Maybe not, all depends on the man and what he wants.”

“You have plans for marriage then?”

Jenny shot him a playful look and then with an exaggerated wink she replied, “I’m old enough to know you don’t need to be married to have a baby.”

Tristan’s jaw dropped in shock but he quickly regained his composure. She had grown up not only physically but also in audacity and wit. Knowing her, he had a feeling Jenny's next question would only be building on the one she asked before. It would be safer to go with the dare. "Before you ask, I'll take my chances with a dare."

"Oh, well then, cross the stream on the rocks without getting wet."

Tristan gave her a smirk before standing up and surveying the stream. He cautiously placed one foot on a rock.

"What's wrong?" Jenny teased. "Scared of falling in?"

"I told you before, I'm not scared of anything! Except for snakes." Tristan said, placing his foot on the other rock nearby. His shoes were not the best for traversing wet river rocks and he was experiencing some trouble balancing, though this fact he tried to do his best to hide. "What happens if I make it across?"

"We'll say you win. I think that's enough punishment for you."

"Punishment for what?"

"Not telling me what you meant to tell me earlier. You kept me in suspense for no reason. Just an unimportant letter."

Tristan tried to turn to look back at her, but his wobbling on the stones preventing him from facing her. "I could tell you loads more, but not right now. I need to concentrate."

"Take your time, I'll be waiting," Jenny laughed, crossing her arms and leaning back against a tree.

Tris decided to bite the bullet and quickly jump from one rock to the next to get it over with. On the last rock, his foot slipped and landed in the stream. The kerplunk sound made Jenny look closer.

"Can you pretend you didn't see that?” Tristan sheepishly asked, pulling his wet foot out of the water. “I was so close."

"Alright, you win. By cheating. Second time today."

"Second time at cheating? I never cheat!" Tristan said, pretending to look hurt.

"You pushed your bike up the hill, remember?"

"That's child's play."

"Which explains why you couldn't make it up. An older man like you naturally has problems biking over the countryside."

“Ha-ha, very funny." Tristan looked back at Jenny from the other side of the stream. Now he had the trouble of getting back to her. He cautiously retraced his steps to get back to the other side. “I’ll miss this when I’m in Doncaster.”

“Won’t be crossing streams in Doncaster?” Jenny teased and then added more seriously, “There’s no place in the world like Darrowby.”

“When you’re here you almost forget what’s going on everywhere else in the world.”

“Makes it feel far away? Like we’re safe here.”

“We could hide up here until the war’s over,” Tristan said. Thinking about his imminent departure, he hated to leave. Why was it always so difficult saying what he wanted to say to her? He was afraid that his feelings of brotherly affection would get misconstrued. It was like walking along those river rocks, always afraid he was going to slip up. These days he felt that he was bordering the jealous boyfriend type and he didn’t want that. He had to play the protective brother part. To save face, he put on the air that he didn’t care so that he could prove (to himself more than anyone else) that he didn’t. “Can you promise me one thing?”

“What is it?” Jenny asked.

“Don’t leave. Don’t leave Heston or Darrowby while I’m gone. Just… what I’m trying to say is… don’t change who you are. When I come back I want to find you here.”

Jenny’s breath caught for a moment. The thought that he cared so much about her that he didn’t want her to leave when he was gone was so touching that she wanted to go and hug him and tell him that she was always his. She wasn’t anyone else’s. She listened to no one else except for the callings of her own heart. Her heart and Tristan’s wishes. Now was the time for a speech or declaration of feelings but she was also afraid of getting hurt again in case he changed his mind. So all that she ended up saying was simple. “I won’t go.”

Tristan let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding in. “I don’t want you to get hurt. So if you find out what I’ve done or said, please remember I just wanted to protect you. You’ve got to live your own life, I know that. I don’t want to control your life…”

“Thanks for caring,” Jenny said quietly.

“I always have,” he said, looking deeply into her eyes. He leaned forward, not touching her, but being close enough that if he wanted to, he could have kissed her. But he didn’t.

Jenny gazed into Tristan’s blue eyes. She could be lost for hours doing so. She longed to hold him close and to not let go. Her feelings were torn between staying true to her word and doing what her heart desired. However, if only for the fact that he was in love with someone else, she refrained from acting on her emotions.

“We better be getting home,” Tristan said, breaking them both out of their silent contemplation. “Mrs. H is making a roast beef dinner that she bargained for - you know, got it contraband - and she won’t want me to be late.”

“What are we waiting for?” Jenny said, stepping back from Tristan and turning away, her breath caught in her throat. She took a deep shaky breath to try and calm herself down. She was so close to kissing him. Had he wanted it too? Her eyes caught sight of the letter she had placed on the fallen log. Right then she would have thrown it away completely without even looking at it ever again if Tristan would just say that he loved her. But he didn’t say it because he didn’t love her.

So she went and collected the letter while Tristan got his jacket back on. Scruff stood up from his resting spot under a tree and came to join them. They made their way back to the bridge and to their bikes.

“You are going to ride holding onto the handlebars?” Jenny double checked.

“You worried about me?” Tristan teased.

Jenny shook her head. “Just that you might be late for dinner if you crash.” She got on her bike and took off, with both Tristan and Scruff following closely behind.

Chapter Text

“What did you do?” Jenny asked as she biked next to Tristan. She kept her pace even with his as it made talking a lot easier.

“About what?” Tristan asked worriedly. He usually was the one blamed if something went wrong, but the blame had rarely come from Jenny, if ever.

“You said before that if I found out what you did, that you only did it to protect me. Protect me from what?”

“Oh that,” Tristan said, realizing then what she was referring to. “You wear your heart on your sleeve. Some men might take advantage of any loyalty you express toward them, even if it isn’t romantic. I know you liked Percy a lot, loved him maybe, but he’s not right for you.”

Jenny glanced at him before turning her attention back to the road. “I don’t care really.”

“I know it’s hard to let go, but-“

“I mean I don’t care about Percy. Not that way,” Jenny tried to explain.

Tristan was a bit surprised, pleasantly, but still unsure if she knew exactly what he was getting at. “You wouldn’t care if he married someone else?”

“We’re friends, him and me. I’ve never thought what it would be like if there were someone else in his life.” Without looking at Tris she asked, “They aren’t going to redeploy you? Send you back to Cairo?”

“I don’t know. I hope I get to stay here but it’s the army, so you know how that is,” Tristan said, grateful to get onto another subject but at the same time annoyed with himself for not getting the truth out there at what would have been the best, or at least most natural, time.

“You’ll miss most of the autumn here,” Jenny said quietly.

“There’s always next year,” Tristan said nonchalantly.

“Aye, but a season lost is never regained.”

Tristan grinned. “Spoken like a true farmer.”

They continued along until they got back to Heston Grange. Both aware of the fact that this goodbye might be their final goodbye until he returned from Doncaster (the nagging feeling of if he returned was still there), neither one wanted to be the first to say farewell.

Jenny coasted her bike to a stop and got off, walking it up to the gate.

“Is that cheating?” Tristan asked, making light of the situation.

“Pushing your bike to the gate is never cheating,” Jenny explained with a smile.

The two quietly looked at each other as Jenny opened the gate and let her dog inside. She leaned the bike against the post and closed the gate behind Scruff, staying on the outside herself. She thought herself daft but it made her feel closer to Tristan, as though she wasn’t locking him out of her life.

“So this is goodbye,” Jenny said, her mind suddenly flashing back to the evening when she bid Percy farewell in a similar manner. She told herself not to cry. She was going to see Tristan again. And besides, they were just friends, not lovers.

Tristan nodded. “Funny, it seems easy to say but it’s not.”

“I never know what to say when I have to say a goodbye that lasts for months. So I’ll just say thanks,” Jenny said softly.

“For what? I didn’t do anything.”

“Thanks for a wonderful day. For the letter. For saying goodbye personally. And if I don’t see you again before you go, good luck.” She wanted to kiss him goodbye or do something remarkable (though kissing him would be nothing short of spectacular) but the only proper thing would be a handshake. She held out her hand.

Tristan put his hand in hers. “Thanks Jenny.”

Jenny held onto his hand until they both reluctantly let go. A silent passing of understanding of feelings, thoughts, hopes, and wishes passed between them. Neither needed to say anything more.

As Tristan biked away, Jenny let herself inside the gate but stood there, watching as he got farther away. “I’ll miss you more than you’ll ever know,” she whispered.

Tristan stopped briefly and turned to look back at her, giving a final wave goodbye. Jenny waved back at him. Had he heard? she thought suddenly. He couldn’t have, but at times she felt he could read her mind and she could read his. There would never be another one for her. Sad thing was he was always exiting her life just when she thought he might be entering it.

Later that evening, after a long day that left her feeling tired - but a good tired - Jenny went up to her room. She pulled out the letter from Percy and looked over the envelope, placing it down next to her on her bed.

With a sigh she leaned back on her propped up pillow and read over the letter:

Dear Brat,

Here it is the end of my first week back in London and I finally have time to sit down and write to you! It’s not a long note but it’s something. Don’t think I haven’t thought about you, because I have!

Life here moves much faster than it does in Darrowby. I’m back to working in my uncle’s shop and I’ve forgotten what it’s like to work in this kind of environment. Don’t worry about me though - I’m getting back into the swing of it.

It’s funny to be back home. Funny in an odd sense. My family treats me differently than when I left. It’s not from my ear injury, though perhaps psychologically they are babying me a bit. I think it’s because I left here a boy and came back a man. It’s only when you leave that others realize you’ve grown up, though I would have grown up if I were at home the whole time. War makes people mature faster and absence makes others notice it.

Enough about me - I long to hear news from Darrowby! Most importantly, how are you??

I hope you still think of me and miss me as much as I do you. Sunday mornings are not the same since I haven’t been able to spend them with you.

Faithfully yours,
Percy

With a sigh Jenny put the letter down next to her. He had a way with words. Though a lot of it was nonsensical fluff of him pining for her, there was one line that struck a chord in her. It’s only when you leave that others realize you’ve grown up, though I would have grown up if I were at home the whole time. War makes people mature faster and absence makes others notice it.

If the situation was flipped, maybe Tristan would have taken notice of her maturity sooner. Jenny Alderson was no longer the lanky child with a large sense of responsibility to her family and her farm that caused her to come across as knowing more than she actually did. She knew now that she didn’t know what she thought she knew back then. She had to learn, sometimes the hard way.

She still had the quips she could come out with as she did when she was younger, but these days those were reserved for her family and closest friends, like Tris.

To her, Tristan hadn’t changed much. Sure, he had a uniform and mustache, but he was still Tristan. He still had that childlike playfulness to him that she loved, the charm that she adored, and the optimism that she admired. If there was anything changed in him, it was only for the better.

Jenny looked back at the letter. Percy always sounded so involved in her life, like he cared for her as if she were someone important. She didn’t reciprocate his feelings, and for that, she regretted not trying harder.

How could she when her heart waited for another? That day she faced reminder after reminder of why she loved Tristan more than any other, and at one point, she felt as though he might have felt the same about her.

Of course, she reasoned, she was wrong. Just her heart playing tricks on her again. If he loved her, he would have said something. He had ample opportunities to do so.

Jenny picked back up the envelope and looked at Tristan’s drawing. She liked his drawing more than any amount of words that Percy could have written her. To her, the drawing was more of a love letter than anything else.

Her cat Poppy sleepily blinked at her before jumping off the dresser as she placed Percy’s letter there. Poppy curled up amongst the covers on the bed and purred as Jenny sat down beside her and stroked the cat’s head.

“What do you think? Should I write back to him?” Jenny asked Poppy, who only answered with the continued purring.

Scruff, not one to be left out of a conversation if it meant he got attention, placed his front paws on Jenny’s lap and whined.

“You think I should, huh boy?” Jenny used her other hand to pet the dog’s head. “I don’t want to get his hopes up. I don’t love him but he thinks I do. When did things get so complicated?”

Scruff whined and settled down at her feet.

“I guess we all just want attention,” she commented as Poppy pushed her head against Jenny’s hand.

With a sigh, Jenny went to get a piece of paper and a pen. She sat down at the small desk in the corner of the room and tapped the pen against the wood.

“I don’t know what to write. I’m no writer,” she told Scruff, who came over to sit next to her. She reasoned that it would be best to start with the beginning.

Dear Percy,

Was saying dear too much or was it just formalities used in any kind of letter? Maybe staying in school longer would have been useful for daily life after all.

It’s good to hear you’ve gotten home safely and I’m glad to hear you’ve got your job back. Life here is about the same as when you left it. We’re all still trying to make the best of what we have with the war going on.

That in itself was true. She was glad he was back in London, with his family and previous job. Then he wanted to know about her. There wasn’t much to tell as it had only been two weeks and not much happens in Darrowby in two weeks that would be worth writing about.

Jenny could only write about what she knew. And whether or not it would be interesting to Percy, that was for her to write and him to decide. She continued on.

We don’t get as much work done when Helen brings Jimmy with her. He’s running all over the place now and getting into a lot of trouble. Dad makes a fuss and complains about not getting as much done because he has to watch Jimmy but I can tell he’s only pretending because he’s always happier when his grandson’s visiting.

Joan’s coming along nicely and just turned 4 years old. I think she would be ready for even you to ride her. I wish now I offered to let you ride her once. Sorry!

Her mind drifted back to Tristan. It was so natural to talk to him. She could say anything about anything and he would listen and have a conversation with her about it. He knew her penchant for trouble but didn’t seem to mind. Nor did he find her fiery spirit irritating or her teasing tiresome.

She thought that if she were writing to Tristan in Doncaster instead of Percy in London the letter would be complete by now due to the speed of writing down exactly what she thought without worries of being judged. Even the time she spent with Tristan that day had not been long enough to talk about life and love and matters of the heart.

Since her mind was on Tristan it only seemed natural to include him in the letter. Besides, Percy seemed to know Tristan pretty well.

In case you were interested in knowing, Tristan - that’s Lieutenant Farnon to you - got a 3 month long assignment in Doncaster. He just told me this morning. I don’t know what we’re going to do without him. 3 months is a long time.

When I wrote we’re I guess I meant mostly me.

I love him.

As Jenny wrote the truth and saw it in front of her written in ink on the paper, the letters stared back at her. It was funny seeing her feelings that she kept hidden for so long on plain paper in front of her. It seemed so permanent, so definite, so… right. Was it proper to write to one man to tell him she was in love with another? This letter was becoming something of a confession. Her next natural inclination was to throw it away and start fresh. However, Percy needed to know how she felt about him. It wouldn’t be fair to lead him on.

I knew it today. I guess I knew it all along. I tried to love you but I never fell out of love with Tris. I loved him long before I met you. I’m sorry for telling you this way. It’s cowardly to not say it to your face but you aren’t here.

She paused in her writing. The thought of Percy telling Tristan that she loved him was both humiliating and, if she was being completely honest with herself, terrifying.

Please don’t tell Tristan that I love him. He doesn’t know I do and I don’t want him to know, at least not til he comes back from Doncaster.

I hope you find a girl who loves you as much as I do Tristan. If you do I promise she’ll give her life for you and will make you happy. I couldn’t have done that for you.

Take care of yourself. Best wishes in everything.

Your friend,

Jenny

As she signed her name, Jenny held up the letter and studied it. Was that the right thing to say? Was it too curt? Too short? Too blunt? She always liked the truth and honesty, however hard hitting it might be, was always preferred compared to the alternative.

Without giving more thought to it, she folded it in thirds and placed it inside an envelope, sealing it quickly before she changed her mind. Best get it over with.

Jenny got up from her seat at the desk and picked up the envelope with the return address on it. She looked over Tristan’s drawing once more before copying the address onto the new envelope.

She placed the outgoing letter off to the side on her desk and placed the envelope up on display against the desk and the wall.

Jenny picked up Percy’s letter and after glancing over it one last time, she placed it inside the desk drawer. “Sorry Percy,” she whispered as she closed the drawer.

She laid back on her bed, arms crossed behind her head, her mind full of thoughts and memories from the day. If that was the only day she had with Tristan with just the two of them, or if he never returned (God forbid anything bad happen to him!), she was glad that she had time alone with him. Time to talk and to have fun. There were serious moments as well. The only regret was that she couldn’t tell him how she loved him.

Time spent with Tristan was never time wasted. Jenny cared for him so deeply she wondered how she would last the three months that he would be away. She could write him, but he would only find that silly. Besides, Tristan, although being good at conversations in person, wasn’t one for writing letters.

She could picture him now, receiving a poorly written letter by herself and laughing at it. Calling her daft in front of the other men. But maybe he wouldn’t do that. He was her friend and he seemed to care for her. In someway, she felt a connection to him that ran deeper than friendship.

Was it love? True reciprocated love?

She could only hope and dream. And in her dreams that night, he loved her.

Chapter Text

Tristan found that the steady work kept him busy, but though he was physically in Doncaster, his heart was left in Darrowby. He chided himself many times on letting himself get involved deeper than he ever intended. His friendship with Jenny was stronger than ever, and the time he had spent with her was missed during his absence.

One warm August afternoon, a new group of mules were being brought in for training the latest recruits. Tristan was examining each one to make sure they were in good health. It was admittedly monotonous, and while he tried to keep his mind on his work, the heat of the midday sun made him long for cooler days. He started thinking how nice a break would be, to be back in Darrowby or high up in the Dales. Even a swim in the secluded area with the waterfall where Jenny brought him would be welcome. Then the sound of hooves on cobblestone brought him back to reality.

“And who do we have here?” Tristan asked, remembering why he was there and telling himself to keep his mind on his work at hand.

“This is Imogen,” Private Williams replied, holding onto the lead as the Lieutenant carried out his exclamation of the young mule. “Sweet thing, but you know the saying. Stubborn as a mule!”

“They say it for a reason,” Tristan laughed. He examined her and gave her a pat of approval on her side. The mule nudged his shoulder with her nose. “What are you trying to tell me girl?”

“Come on Ginny,” Private Williams said, tugging on the lead, but the mule stayed firmly planted in place. “See what I mean?”

“Go on Jenny,” Tristan said, patting the shoulder of the mule, trying to encourage her to move on.

“It’s Ginny, not Jenny.”

“Did I say Jenny?” Tristan asked.

Private Williams nodded. “Sure did!”

“Ginny, Jenny, whatever.” Tristan couldn’t help but grin at the slip of his tongue. “Since she’s new, if we’re not set on names, change her name to Jenny. Fits her better.”

“Yes sir.” With a tug on the lead, the mule finally walked on.

Later that evening, Tristan went to go check on the newest mules to make sure they were adjusting alright to their new environment. “There you go,” he said, after a more thorough examination of the newest mule recruit, running his hand over the neck of Ginny-now-Jenny. “It’s hard being in a new place, I know. You’ll get used to it.” He cupped her ear and whispered into it, “Be glad you’re here and not on the frontlines. You’ve a good namesake. Make her proud.”

Tristan thoughtfully looked at the mule. He wasn’t going to, but if Percy could, he could. He had as much right to, if not more.

And so that evening, after a letter written to his brother on how he was doing and to say hello to everyone back home, another piece of paper was taken out and the words just seemed to flow.

Jenny hadn’t expected anything from Tristan, but the not knowing how Tristan was gnawed at her very insides. It was one of the only times in her life that she ever felt a desire for a phone of her own instead of relying on the callbox down the way.

She got bits and pieces of news from Helen, who dropped how he was getting on if they heard from him, but the information on Tristan was scarce since Jenny made sure to make her questions about him general and impersonal. If anyone else was listening, they would think she hardly cared at all.

Some days Jenny would take off (after fulfilling her responsibilities of course, for her family and animals always came first). No one knew where she went, leaving for hours at a time. Her father and sister both concluded her disappearances were from missing her boyfriend from London, if he could be called that. She did miss her companion, but it wasn’t the one that everyone thought she missed.

Jenny would spend hours at a time up near the waterfall where she took Tristan. It was her place to be alone and think. Sometimes she would bring paper and pen, debating on whether or not to write to Tristan. She’d start and then inevitably crumple it up into a ball.

One day instead of throwing a started letter away, she scribbled over the lines. It started innocently and somewhat absentmindedly, but the swirls and lines started to form into what looked like rain clouds. Diagonal lines below looked like rain. She started filling in hills below and stone walls, trees and bushes, and at the end, was pleasantly surprised when she saw what she did, and though it was self-critiqued as nowhere near as good as Tristan’s drawings, it was a start.

On her way back, she biked past Mr. Oakley, their postman. His voice calling at her from behind made her slow down. “Is everything alright Mr. Oakley?” she asked, stopping her bike and turning to look at him.

“Letter for you Jenny!” he said loudly, holding up an envelope and waving it at her.

The thought that the letter might be a reply from Percy worried Jenny. She wondered what he thought of her candid letter. Best to take it and find out sooner than later, she decided. “Thank you Mr. Oakley,” she said as she approached him, holding out her hand to take the letter.

“Doncaster, eh?” he said, looking at the return address before handing it off.

“Doncaster?” Jenny said excitedly, snatching the letter quickly.

“Your sweetheart?”

Jenny hardly even heard his question. She clutched the letter closely and biked off in a direction far away from busybody postmen. The whole way home she could think of nothing else but Tristan.

News from Tristan - personal news - addressed to her. She had never felt so thrilled. She saw her father out in the field with the cows and so as to avoid detection so she could have a moment alone, Jenny quickly took her bike with her into the barn. Leaving it leaning against the doorpost, she went up into a loft and settled down among the summer hay.

Fingers trembling out of excitement, she hurriedly opened the envelope and pulled out the letter.

Dear Brat Jenny,

I can’t believe he called you that. I mean, sometimes you are but not on a daily basis. He should have called you something more endearing. I don’t know what, but maybe I’ll think of a better nickname for you between now and next letter.

This is Tristan by the way, not Percy, but you can probably tell by the handwriting since I’m not nearly as fancy as he is.

Speaking of names, sort of anyway, I thought I’d write to you since you’re the only one who’d understand. Don’t get offended, but I named a mule after you. Fitting, right? Everyone calls you stubborn, and you are, sometimes, when you’re a brat.

I got a laugh out of it since her name was Ginny and I accidentally said Jenny and well, it fit! Rest is history as they say.

If anyone calls you stubborn as a mule remember mules are only stubborn because they’re smart and they want to make sure they aren’t acting on anyone else’s stupid decisions. They have a mind of their own and like to go their own way. Like you!

The last thing you asked me last time we were together was if I was getting redeployed to Cairo. So far, I’m here in Doncaster. Between you and me, let’s hope it stays that way.

You don’t have to write back, but if you want to, my address is on the envelope. Address it to Lieutenant Farnon and I should get it. Don’t worry, I’ll always be Tris to you, but put that inside the letter so no one else sees since I’m supposed to be taken seriously!

All the best,
Tris

P.S. I promise I won’t think of any nickname for you that involves mules. Though a female donkey is called a Jenny, so it may fit, whether you like it or not! So maybe being called Brat wasn’t so bad after all, was it?

Jenny closed her eyes in bliss and a worry on her shoulders lifted. He was alright. He would still be nearby. She was in North Yorkshire and he was in South Yorkshire, but whatever distance that happened to be, it was much closer than Cairo.

The silly man named a mule after her but if he was in the RAF it would have been a plane. All in perspective, it meant that he was thinking of her. He cared enough to write and wanted her to write back. He wanted to hear from her.

She got out the writing pad she brought with her earlier that day and started on a letter, this time to actually send. Tristan’s casual way of writing what he thought made her feel at ease. There was no pretending with him. She could be herself and say what she wanted to say.

Dear Tris,

You don’t know how good it was to hear from you! No one tells me anything about you and I ask sometimes but they don’t say much. I guess maybe you don’t say much in your letters or phone calls to them. I never took you for being the kind of person who writes letters so I was surprised to get one from you!

It’s one month down and two to go. At least you’ll be back in time for Christmas and Jimmy’s birthday. Everyone here misses you, even Siegfried. You probably think he just misses you to boss you around but that’s what older siblings do when they’re worried about you. I know from experience with Helen. She worries and tries to guide me but you know me, stubborn as a mule!

I went to the Drovers when I was in town picking up some supplies and just to spite Dad I went in even though he told me not to. Maggie asked how you were and I said how should I know? He never says anything to me. Next time I’ll have news to report about you.

Mr. Oakley the postman saw your letter and hand delivered it to me. He thinks it was a letter from my sweetheart as he put it. When you come back and if people are thinking we’re an item don’t blame me! It’s the nosy postman!

I’m running out of paper. I should learn how to write smaller. I started drawing but am nowhere near as good as you. I think I’ll go back to just writing.

Your friend,
Jenny

P.S. Give the Jenny there an extra pet from me!

And so Jenny’s letter was sent to Doncaster, where it was received with much eagerness that Lieutenant Farnon’s fellow soldiers assumed it was a letter he anticipated getting from his girlfriend. He denied any affection for the girl who wrote him and pretended not to care. “Only a girl from back home. The kid sister of one of my best friends,” he would say if anyone asked. All ribbing aside, Tristan found a way to sneak reading the letter from Jenny when very few were around and kept any further correspondence secretive, with outgoing letters written in private whenever he had a moment to himself.

Weeks passed into months and letter after letter crossed through Yorkshire, containing some truly heartfelt thoughts, but mostly silly sentiments, the joking only hiding the longing of the two lonely souls writing to each other.

Dear Jenny, who is not a brat,

If Percy really wanted to get on your good side he should have called you Angel. Because everyone who knows you well knows you are such a perfect angel.

Who told you I couldn’t write letters? Does a two word telegram have anything to do with it? When I said I was coming back from Cairo, I only said “Home Tomorrow” because they charge by the word! Letters are cheaper and give me a lot more creative freedom. Leave that to your own interpretation!

Let people think what they want about us - it’s good for their bored gossiping minds. We’ll prove otherwise when I get home but for now keep them in suspense!

How is Maggie? Any word from Arthur?

Send me a picture you’ve drawn if you have one on hand - I’m curious to see your artwork.

Your boyfriend,
Tris

Dear Tris,

I’m no more angelic than you are. You did write that sarcastically didn’t you? Because I’m no angel and wouldn’t even want to try to be one.

Maggie is fine as far as I can tell. She doesn’t talk too much to me since I spend most of my time up at the farm or at Skeldale if I go into town. The only person she talks about is you, like I’d know anything and everything about you. Must be that postman who thinks you’re my boyfriend started talking. I promise I haven’t said anything about you to anyone, unless they ask. I won’t go back on my promise to just be friends.

Doesn’t mean I don’t miss you though, even if I don’t claim to be in love with you. Skeldale’s not the same without you. Two months down and one to go before you’re back with all of us.

Mrs. Pumphrey’s organizing one of the biggest knitting efforts for the war and asked me to help. I don’t know the first thing about knitting. Can you picture me doing that? I’m a girl born for hard work and to be outdoors, not sitting around like a sissy knitting scarves and mittens and hats and whatever else comes from knitting. That’s why I leave all of the knitting for the family to Audrey. She knitted a whole wardrobe for Jimmy. Can you imagine me trying to do that for even my own children one day? I’d be completely ridiculous.

I don’t have anything good to send you other than a letter. My drawings haven’t improved and you’re the much better artist. Why don’t you send me something you’ve done?

Your girlfriend,
Jenny

Dear Angel Face,

The rest of the men have gone off to see a movie which finally gets me a chance to write when it’s quiet. Who needs another Rita Hayworth movie anyway?

Maggie only asks about me because we’re old friends. I surely haven’t done anything to make her think that you and I are together and I’ll take your word that you haven’t either. If there’s one thing that you are it’s honest. And if you did, I don’t really care since we can blame it on poor old Mr. Oakley!

There is one thing I worry about though - tell the future you that you should learn some sort of knitting skills. Don’t want your little ones freezing in the winter! Especially little Tristan (you have to name one after me if Jim and Helen don’t have another boy).

About my drawings - the illustrations I include in my letters which have been only to Siegfried in the past aren’t usually meant for ladies to see. If I have time I’ll draw something more appropriate for you. I don’t know why I care about that because you aren’t always a good girl anyway. I now know the real you Jenny. I like the real you best, in case you wondered. Just for that I’ll draw something for you - I’ll start with your mule, the one named after you.

I’m busy but the weeks are going by slowly. I’d give anything to be back home with a day to do nothing at all. I’m sure you don’t understand the appeal of doing nothing, but you should try it sometime. Have you ever gone on holiday? Like out of Yorkshire?

Talk to you soon,
Tris

Dear Tris,

You assume a lot when you say little Tristan. I’m only having girls, at least three. They can all be little imps and we’ll have fun with them.

Nice drawing by the way! If that Jenny is as pretty as her picture I’m honored to have her named after me.

You can get a lot done and you’re a good worker but I never have understood why you enjoy being lazy. How can you be lazy or feel good doing nothing when there’s always something to do?

I’ve never left the farm for more than two days. I went with Doris to Leeds more recently but before that only stayed with my aunt and uncle and their family overnight once. They’re only down in Addingham, so not too far and that really doesn’t count because it’s staying with family instead of going on holiday.

I’m a bit jealous you’ve gotten to see so much of the world. I don’t think I’d ever want to leave the Dales for good, but it would be nice to see somewhere else for myself instead of hearing about different places from other people.

Maybe I should follow in the steps of Audrey when she was younger and join the WRNS. If you don’t hear from me for a while, you’ll know what happened.

Jenny, over and out.

Dear Jeneral Jenny,

Since you are probably enlisted in the WRNS by now because it’s taken me too long to write back to you, your father will probably receive this letter. He’ll be suspicious of our correspondence too, just like the postman and Maggie and all the rest of Darrowby who probably have us engaged or married at this point. Well Mrs. Farnon, what do you have to say for yourself?

You told me you’d wait at home until I came back from Doncaster. You also told me you’d be a farmer for the foreseeable and probably would have children. What’s going to happen to little Tristan if you’re off fighting for your country? (I say you have a boy - that’s life! Sometimes you get a girl, sometimes a boy, and you don’t really have a choice. Though you’re so determined I wouldn’t be surprised if ten years from now you do have a brood of girls.)

Where have you travelled to? Do you miss Darrowby? I do, but it’s one month to go before I come home. In all seriousness Miss Alderson, I’m exhausted. There’s been a lot happening here and more for me to tell you but it’ll wait for when I see you when I arrive home.

Your old friend from before you signed up,
Tristan

Dear Tris, my old friend,

I’ve travelled all over that it’s hard to begin to describe what I’ve seen and did. I can start by saying I made it down to the Drovers last week and even Pumphrey Manor the week prior.

Yes, I did try knitting. It ended in a tangled mess so I just delivered what Audrey knitted and gave up trying myself. There’s got to be a better way to support the war effort besides knitting!

I would miss Darrowby terribly if I ever managed to leave it. I’m still home at Heston and will be for the foreseeable, as you put it. I decided it would be best if I stay at home and do my part on the farm. If I left what would happen to future little Tristan? (Tristan can be a girl’s name too, if I want it to be.)

Why do you keep me in suspense? If you have something exciting to tell, write it! Remember there’s no charge by word in a letter.

Your friend,
Jenny - not the future one, the one from October 1942

Then the last letter between them came, the one Jenny was waiting a long time for. It also happened to be the shortest letter she had ever received, but she didn’t care.

Home next week. -Tris

Chapter Text

Jenny didn’t know exactly when Tristan was set to return home, but she knew he must be home by now. The letter saying he was home next week had arrived almost two weeks prior. Helen had not come up to Heston Grange, so Jenny couldn’t ask.

At the same time, she waited for Tristan to make the first move. To call, come over for a visit, even sending a letter like they had the past three months would have been fine. Jenny had taken to staring off down the road as if he would suddenly appear, enough so that her father worried that something was wrong with her, and then sent her to the upper fields to carry out some wall repairs, far away from the sight of the road.

Alone with her thoughts, she almost decided to go to Skeldale to see if Tristan was back home, but living up to her promise, had some hesitations. Would the others think it was odd for her to come for no other reason than to check on their returning soldier?

It might be odd, unless she had another good reason, and the bounty of apples from the trees nearby gave Jenny an idea.

The sky was threatening rain, but a little rain never deterred Jenny. She gathered the apples she harvested that morning and placed them in a basket and hung it off of her bicycle’s handlebars. She peddled down the way into Darrowby, prepared to bring gifts for her family at Skeldale to make her visit seem not as unusual.

As she arrived at Skeldale, she went around back to the driveway. There was only the Rover present, but as Tristan didn’t have his own car, that fact didn’t tell her much. She left her bike leaning against the house and knocked at the back door. Soon after her knock, Mrs. Hall opened it up. “Jenny! What a nice surprise!”

“I picked these this morning. Thought you’d like some,” she said, stepping inside and placing the basket on the kitchen table.

Audrey smiled. “That’s very nice of you.”

“You have a lot of people to feed and it’s only Dad and me at home. I don’t know how you manage to take care of everyone and everything,” Jenny said while reaching down to pet Jess, who had gotten up from the basket to greet her. “Did Tristan get back?”

“He did, but you just missed seeing him,” Audrey explained. “I sent him to the grocers to pick up summat for dinner.” She moved out a chair for Jenny. “Why don’t you stay for a brew?” she asked as she got out the teakettle, not waiting for an answer.

Jenny shook her head. “Thanks, but I don’t want to keep you, and it looks like it might rain, so I better be going.”

“Oh, do you need a ride back home? I could fetch Mr. Farnon before he leaves.”

“I’ll be fine, really” Jenny said, walking to the back door to make a swift exit before being asked any more questions. “Thanks again!” she said before closing the door behind herself.

Jenny quickly left Skeldale and grabbed her bike, pushing it through town to the grocers. She left it outside and started going into the store but stopped in her tracks when she saw Tristan with a parcel in hand and giving the ration coupons to the grocer.

She went around the corner of the building and leaned back against the wall. She didn’t want Tristan to think she was following him, so a calm and collected walk past the door was in order. She pushed her bike past and continued walking. The sound of the store’s bell made her look back. Tristan was looking back at her.

"Jenny!” Tristan called out behind her.

“Tris! Fancy meeting you here,” she said, acting surprised.

Tristan grinned. “I’m back.”

"I see," Jenny said plainly. She hadn't expected anything grand or impressive, but she had expected more of a greeting than what he gave. He could say that to anyone he met on the street. Somehow, after their date-that-wasn't-a-date alone together in the Dales and after the multiple letters they had sent back and forth, she thought there might be something more between them.

"You're glad to see me, aren't you?" Tristan asked with a slight hesitation in his voice, as he felt like he was getting the cold shoulder or the brush off.

"Of course I'm glad to see you,” Jenny said, doing all she could not to let the excitement of seeing him again overpower her sense of reason. “Any reason why I wouldn't be?”

Tristan shrugged. "No."

“No one told me you were back,” Jenny said, getting to the point as she walked her bicycle through town. “I guess I thought you would’ve come to see me sooner.”

“I could’ve, but you know how people talk,” Tristan said. “What would they say if the first thing I did after coming home was going to see you at Heston?”

“I thought we didn’t care what people thought about me and you,” Jenny said, hiding the fact that she too didn’t come to see him due to the same worry.

Tristan stopped walking and grabbed Jenny’s arm to turn her to face him. “What we said in letters was just for us,” he said quietly. “You know I’m not your boyfriend just as I know you’re not my girlfriend. We know where we stand with each other and we don’t expect anything more. But everyone else… they talk and put motives on people where they don’t belong.”

“I could live with scandal if you could,” Jenny said, turning away from him.

“We’re friends, and if we act like just good friends, then no one will care and everything will be just as it always was,” Tristan explained. “In a week or two, we’ll go back to where we were before I left.”

Jenny quietly walked on, pushing her bike, keeping it between herself and Tristan. He was right and she knew it. She just didn’t want to face the truth, not when in her daydreams she had what she really wanted.

Tristan continued walking beside her. After an awkward silence, he playfully nudged her side. “You probably haven’t heard my surprise.”

“Surprise? Is it good?” Jenny asked.

Tristan grinned. “Absolutely, I can’t wait for you to meet her!”

“Her?” Jenny said, almost stopping in her tracks out of complete surprise.

Tristan nodded. “Addie, no one’s told you about Adelaide?”

Jenny, speechless, just shook her head.

“I brought her home with me from Doncaster. I know you’ll love her.”

“You met in Doncaster?” Jenny managed to ask, looking away from Tristan to hide her emotions.

“Love at first sight you could say. She was an older lady’s companion, and when the old lady died, she had nowhere to go. We have room at Skeldale, so I brought her back. I didn’t exactly get Siegfried’s permission first, so she’s been a surprise to everyone. I know you’ll love her, and she’s going to love you,” Tristan rambled on. “Come on back with me and meet her.”

Jenny stopped walking. She couldn’t stand it anymore. “I actually have something I have to do at home that I just remembered. I’ll meet her another time. It’s been nice seeing you.”

“It’ll only take a minute!” Tristan said hopefully.

“Really, I can’t,” Jenny said, determined to leave as soon as she could.

Tristan looked up at the steel grey sky. “It looks like it’s going to rain. You sure you don’t want to come with me? You could wait it out at Skeldale or I can drive you home.”

Jenny shook her head. “You’ve got to get home same as I do and I’d just hold you up.”

“Honestly, it’s no bother!”

“Sorry Tris, some other time,” Jenny said with a cold note in her tone that surprised even herself.

Tristan stood there silently, surprised at her reaction. He still wanted to be friends with her but she seemed to be treating him as a stranger. Could three months really change her that much? In her letters, she seemed the same Jenny that he left. Sure, he hadn't told her he got home but he didn't want to get her hopes up of anything more between them than just friends.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, people would say - it obviously had the opposite effect on Jenny, the effect he wanted on himself. He couldn't let anything get serious between the two of them. And so he viewed the trip to Doncaster as a good thing. It gave him time to think things over, to adjust his thinking, see things from another perspective.

It all came down to one thing: he couldn't get romantically involved with anyone. Life was too unsure with the war. He could be redeployed, perhaps for months, even years. It wouldn't be fair to the woman he fell in love with to leave her with the worry of his life potentially being on the line and only the memory of his love. Tristan made sure to push all feelings of tenderness and adoration for Jenny to the side and treat her like a little girl; though however good intentioned this was, it was not working well for him, as she was no longer just a little girl.

As Jenny biked home, the dark clouds gave way to rain. She had to blink away the rain pelting against her face and the tears in her eyes. Their first day back together was not at all like she had planned. Why did her good intentions always turn out badly? The empty hurt feeling inside of her was a reminder of the not too distant past of a year prior, when she unintentionally pushed Tristan away by her sudden declaration of love for him. The friendship she was trying so hard to preserve was falling apart.

She had thought they had almost reached some sort of turning point in their relationship last summer. He had seemed so open and close to her. She felt as though she could open her heart to him and say how she really felt; well, everything except for the fact that she was madly in love with him.

Had she acted too quickly? Pushed too hard for something more? Did her attempts at being honest destroy the former camaraderie that they had built together? Or maybe there was nothing she could do or could have done. Tristan had never promised her anything more than friendship and he didn’t relinquish that offer. He had never offered romance or given inclinations of feelings toward her in that way.

Jenny wondered what Addie was like. The lucky girl who Tristan fancied more than any other. He brought her home to Darrowby - it must be serious. One doesn’t just bring anyone back home if they didn’t mean for a serious relationship with marriage on the mind. Addie was probably like the rest of the girlfriends of Tristan’s past. He always went for the charming glamorous type; the antithesis of herself.

How many Doncaster girls had he charmed and wooed while he was there? It was almost laughable how she had been in correspondence with him while he was giving his heart to another girl. He loved someone else and not knowing who it was, Jenny didn't have a chance to even fight the unseen.

Lost in her thoughts, Jenny made it back to Heston Grange sooner than she expected, the rain now coming down steadily. After a dash to the door to get in out of the pouring rain, she threw her wet boots to the side and walked over to their fireplace and lit the fire. Her father wasn't home so she could do what she wanted. She went over and got his whisky bottle out and poured herself a generous amount.

Retreating to her bedroom in the early evening after making an excuse to her father about a headache to cover for any irritability and moodiness (and the effects of the whisky she had at 4:00 in the afternoon), she went to bed with said headache and tried to rest and forget what had happened. The scene kept replaying in her mind: what she said, what he had said.

It was a sleepless night, filled with tossing and turning. Jenny’s thoughts would not leave her alone. At one point she even though of writing to Percy to tell him that she was coming to him in London, leaving Darrowby and all it’s inhabitants behind. A rebound was never rational.

Trying to be practical, the best thing for her to do was to face the enemy. Poor Adelaide wouldn’t know what she would be up against.

Jenny wondered why she even bothered fighting for a chance. It was probably waste of time. A pointless endeavor. But her heart told her to keep trying. It might have been the whisky she has earlier, or maybe the downpour of rain outside in the dark of night, but despite the tears and heartbreak, she would try again. Jenny Alderson would live to fight another day. She didn't know when or who, but she would try.

Early the next morning, before her father had even gotten up, Jenny got dressed and biked back down to Skeldale. This time she knocked on the front door. It was earlier than she had ever come, but this was an emergency.

Once again, she was greeted by Mrs. Hall, but before she could say any type of greeting, Jenny blurted out, “I came to meet Addie.”

Audrey stepped back in surprise, both at seeing Jenny so early and at her reason for coming. “Oh.”

“I was told she’s staying here,” Jenny said simply.

“She is. We were surprised when Tris came home with her. She’s up in his room now. Not sure Tris is awake yet but Addie’s an early riser. I’ll go see if I can fetch her.”

Jenny nodded and once Audrey left she took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. Was this really a good idea? What would she say? What would she do when she came face to face with her rival? Addie didn’t even know that she had a rival since Tristan didn’t know Jenny’s true feelings.

“Tris, Jenny’s here,” she heard Mrs. Hall say from upstairs after a knock on the door.

Jenny turned to leave. This was not one of her better ideas and all her courage based only on fiery judgement and indignation had escaped her. She wasn’t brave. She was a coward.

“Jenny?” Tris said, coming down the stairs barefoot and clad only in his pyjamas and robe. His hair was messy and his general appearance was that he had just been awakened from sleep. “You alright?”

Jenny turned to look at him but overwhelmed with emotion, she quickly turned away. “I’m not sure. I don’t know. I should’ve come with you yesterday but I didn’t. I didn’t sleep at all last night and this was my best option so I came but I don’t know what I’m doing,” she rambled.

“You’re drunk?” Tristan asked hesitantly. He had seen Jenny many times in many moods but never saw her like this.

Jenny shook her head. “No, not really.”

“You came because…”

“I need to see Addie.”

“Is that all?” Tristan said with a laugh.

Some of Jenny’s courage came back to her when she saw that Tristan was having fun at her expense. Indignantly she said, “I just want to say hello and goodbye. Stop laughing cause I’m serious!”

Tristan shrugged. “If that’s all, I’ll be right back,” he said, trying hard to hide his laughter.

Jenny took a shaky breath and looked around the room. Tristan had changed since she saw him last summer. He hadn’t mentioned anything about anyone else, though thinking back on his letters, he hardly mentioned anything about Doncaster. The teasing had all been in fun, not at all like the teasing he was doing now. He had been toying with her affections, whether he knew so or not.

Jenny turned to leave without saying goodbye. It was a bad idea to come, so it was best to take her leave and forget about any sort of confrontation. Her hand on the door knob, she started to open the door, but before she left, the next thing she knew was the pitter-patter of paws running down the stairs and a wiggly cream-colored Miniature Poodle at her feet.

“Jenny, meet Addie,” Tristan introduced them.

Jenny looked down in disbelief at the dog. “This is… Addie?”

Tristan just nodded in response.

“Oh God, I’m such a fool!” Jenny exclaimed, starting to laugh and cry at the same time in a frenzy of mixed emotions bubbling over.

“You thought Addie wasn’t a dog?”

“You made her sound so human, I thought you brought a girl back from Doncaster.” She kneeled on the ground to pet the dog with one hand while wiping away the tears with her other hand to hide them before they were noticed by Tristan.

He kneeled down in front of her. “Surprise,” he said softly, placing his hand gently on her shoulder. “You okay?”

Jenny nodded. “I am now.”

Audrey came down the stairs and into the front hall. “Is everything alright?” she asked, seeing the two of them kneeling on the ground with Addie the poodle.

“I think we’re all good,” Tristan said with a smile.

“Just grand, thanks,” Jenny said. The clock in the sitting room chimed and after hearing it ring six times, she was reminded of getting home before her father noticed her absence. “I better be getting home now.”

“Since no one’s using the car, because we’re up at an ungodly hour of the morning, I’ll drive you home,” Tristan said as he offered her his hand as she got up from the floor.

Jenny nodded, placing her hand in his, and stood up. She was too tired to argue, and admittedly, the attention was nice.

“You better not be going out like that,” Audrey said to Tristan as she handed him the keys he was looking for, remarking on his undressed and shoeless appearance.

“Oh, right,” he said with a laugh, suddenly remembering how he looked. He took the keys before starting up the stairs. “Be right back!”

“It was pretty funny, you do have to admit,” Tristan said as he drove Jenny home in the Vauxhall.

“What was?” Jenny asked, raising her head from her resting position against the window.

“You thinking that Addie here was a human,” Tristan said, leaning over to scratch behind Addie’s ears.

Jenny held the poodle closer. Tristan was right about one thing - Addie was sweet and she had made fast friends with her. “What else were I to think? You never said she were a dog! And she has a human name.”

“Says the girl with a horse named Joan, a ferret named Leopold, a cat named Poppy, multiple sheep named after people…” Tristan trailed off.

Jenny playfully swatted Tristan’s shoulder. “Alright, fine! But you should have told me.”

Tris just laughed. “It was more fun keeping you in suspense.”

“Torture, more like!” she countered. “You were leading me on the whole time, weren’t you? Just to see what I’d say?”

“That’s why you should’ve come back with me when I first told you to,” Tristan said pointedly, feeling all the ever-knowing grown up he tried hard to be.

“I was too worried about you,” Jenny explained. “I’ve been writing you and you’ve never even mentioned anything about anyone in Doncaster and next thing I know you brought back a girl from there and I don’t even know if you got married!”

“Believe me, if I get married you’ll know. I’ll make sure you’re invited to the wedding.”

“You sure?”

“You’ll be one of the first to know,” Tris said. “That won’t be for a while though, not til the war’s over.”

“What if it goes on for a long time?” Jenny questioned him. “What if it’s five or ten more years? You still going to wait?”

Tristan glanced over at Jenny. “I might rethink my decision.”

“If you are willing to rethink all your future life plans, that girl better be pretty special,” Jenny said, holding the dog closer. In that moment she made a promise to herself never to be that jealous again, for things may not always be as they appear to be at first. And if she wouldn’t get to be the girl Tristan loved, she would make her peace with that as well, when the time came to it.

“She is.”

“Who?” Jenny asked after Tristan brought her out of her thoughts and back into their conversation.

“The girl of my dreams.”

“And what’s she like?”

“Oh, the usual. Beautiful, smart, funny,” Tristan said thoughtfully. He glanced over at Jenny, a flash of adoration in his look that she didn’t see before he redirected his gaze to the lane ahead. “But not perfect, because she would never put up with me. She’d be a jealous sort too whenever another woman would even look at me, because then I’d know she was madly in love with me.”

Jenny blushed at his last statement. That was directed at her, or at least she thought so. Did he know she was still in love with him? Was he even talking about her? Did he like her jealous passion? She gave her attention to Addie and didn’t press the matter any further.

True to form, Tristan broke the silence. “Did you really think I’d just bring a girl back from Doncaster and give her the cupboard to stay in?”

“Alright, so I was daft!” Jenny laughed.

“Go on being daft Jenny, I wouldn’t have you any other way,” Tristan said with a chuckle.

They pulled into the drive and Jenny got out. She closed the car door but before she walked back up to the house, she walked over to the driver’s side of the car and leaned over to look in through the car window at Tristan. “You’d only give her the cupboard?”

“It’s still my room!” Tristan said with a smirk.

Jenny shook her head and grinned back at him. She was wrong again; Doncaster hadn’t changed him after all. He was still Tristan. Her Tristan. “You’re impossible!”

“So are you!”

Chapter Text

Autumn had passed into colder months, with December of 1942 having an abundance of foggy weather compared to years prior. The Americans had been in the war for a year now and it had also been a year since Mrs. Hall got news of Edward.

Life continued on, but this December had a buzz of excitement at Skeldale House. Their boys had come home to Skeldale, all except for Edward, a fact that couldn’t be ignored. Mrs. Hall kept up a good front, but the rest of the family could tell that she couldn’t help but be disappointed, despite the fact of the pleasure she found in having three out of her four boys home with her.

As Tristan had finished his three month assignment and was now back working with recruits at Doncaster a few days out of the week, it meant he was now a regular part of the Skeldale household again.

In addition to Tristan, Richard Carmody wrote, telling that he had gotten time away for a holiday and would like to come home for a visit, if it wasn’t an inconvenience to them. He had happily gotten a reply to come and learned that upon hearing the news in his letter, Mrs. Hall was already getting the flannel sheets out for his bed (which Tristan decided would be in the cupboard).

Helen and James were more than thrilled to have Carmody come and stay, but also had their hands full with their toddler Jimmy. Now coming up on two years old, he was getting into a lot of mischief and it seemed that every time they turned their backs, little Jimmy, bursting with energy, was running off to another room of the house, chasing the dogs, investigating what his godmother was baking up, or sitting with his godfather at the desk.

Siegfried loved every moment he got to spend with his godson and often took it upon himself to offer to watch him for the Herriot parents. Often he would be found explaining the complexities of the animals he showed the little boy, who then answered in questions of why or how. Siegfried, of course, would answer. He had given up on hiding his feelings for the lad and knew he was a pushover.

Jenny came over to Skeldale as often as she possibly could. There was a good excuse to go, seeing that they would have a full house over the Christmas holiday. She offered to help with any cooking or baking or with watching her nephew. In reality, Jenny just loved the cozy house bustling with activity and full of people - her family. At the best of times it was chaos, but the constant pandemonium was exciting to her.

She watched as Mrs. Hall kept her household organized and together as best she could. There was much to be learned from the housekeeper of Skeldale, who was so much more than just a housekeeper. Mrs. Hall was the pulse of the home, everything revolving around her, despite the house’s occupants being somewhat ignorant of that fact.

If there was a job to be done in the house, Mrs. Hall would do it. If there was a visitor or caller, she would gracefully take care of them. When something was ‘lost’ she would tell them where it lived. When Jimmy needed watching she would care for him.

Jenny wondered how she could manage the house so well while maintaining her calm aura. Mrs. Hall was worth watching as a person to imitate.

Of course, Mrs. Hall wasn’t the only person Jenny was keeping her eye on. Jenny was also there to be closer to Tristan. He had been so busy since he arrived back from Doncaster, and Jenny with her work at Heston Grange, that it seemed the two of them had lost their carefree afternoons together and traded them out for the hard work and busy schedule of adults.

Tristan missed his time with Jenny as much as she did with him, but he never let on more than what he had already opened up to her. As silly as it seemed to him, he couldn’t help but admit to himself that he was almost jealous of their dogs, Scruff and Addie, who seemed to spend more time together than he did with Jenny.

He had started to make plans to spend time with her over Christmas when something else came up. As irritating as it was to have his plans foiled, he felt obligated to return the favor of a long-time friendship. He knew he would feel terrible if he didn’t go through with it. And so with his unspoken plans with Jenny no longer in place, there was no way for Jenny to know how much he wanted to be with her.

In fact, Tristan flitted in and out of the house so often that Jenny wondered if he really was living there or if he decided to live at the Drovers part time. It really wasn’t any of her business, Jenny knew that. But her inquisitive mind continued to pester her. So late one afternoon as she was assigned to watch Jimmy so Helen and Audrey could get some meaningful work done, she decided to follow Tristan not long after he made his exit from Skeldale.

“Come on Jimmy, let’s go see where Uncle Tris went to,” Jenny said, bundling the little boy up in his winter coat and tying on his boots.

“Why?” Jimmy asked, asking his favorite question as of late.

“Because he’s always disappearing. I think he’s playing hide and seek,” Jenny whispered in his ear. She reached down and took Jimmy by the hand, stepping out of the front door of Skeldale House and walking in the direction she assumed Tristan went in. “Can you find Uncle Tris?” she asked.

Jimmy giggled and tried to break free from Jenny’s grip to run ahead. “Tris!” he laughed, pointing at a soldier walking by.

Jenny turned to look but it wasn’t Tristan, just an amused soldier who thought the young lady and the toddler were cute together. “Good try, but that’s not him. Where could he be?” She got close to the Drovers and thought of going in, knowing Tristan was most likely inside, but realized the boy holding onto her hand didn’t belong in a pub. Of course, if he ran in on accident, it could hardly be her fault.

She would risk getting in trouble with Helen, but to win there must be a risk taken. “Jimmy,” she whispered in his ear as she bent down to be on his level. “Do you think Uncle Tris is in there?”

Jimmy looked thoughtful and then nodded his head as he smiled cheekily at her.

“You go find him first,” Jenny encouraged him. “Go on, I’m right behind you.” She let go of Jimmy’s hand and he ran inside. Now was the time for her to practice her acting skills. She hastened inside. “Jimmy, come back!” she called out, sounding somewhat believable that she was genuinely worried about him getting away from her.

Jimmy turned to look at his aunt and giggled. “I find Tris!” he happily exclaimed, putting his arms around Tristan’s leg.

Tristan looked down at Jimmy, surprised to see the little boy in the Drovers. “Jimmy! What are you doing here?” he asked as he picked up Jimmy and placed him on the counter. Tristan then quickly glanced over at Jenny, wondering how exactly the two of them ended up in the Drovers. Curious as he was, he knew better than to ask as he had a pretty good idea of what occurred. “You want a drink?” he asked, directing the question not to Jenny, but instead to Jimmy, who eagerly nodded his head.

“Tris!” Jenny exclaimed, quickly coming over to Jimmy and his uncle. “Don’t start him so early!” she said seriously, but then playfully winked at him.

“You better take him home before I’m a bad influence,” Tristan joked, leaning on the counter and effectively hiding his drink and keeping it out of reach from his nephew.

“I find Tris!” Jimmy exclaimed happily, moving around so much that Jenny came closer out of a worry for his safety on his perch.

“Aye, you did!” Jenny laughed, scooping the little boy up so he couldn’t escape again, balancing him on her hip. “I should take you home too,” she said to Tristan.

Tristan looked around, making sure no one else was in earshot. “I’d love to go with you two, but I have to make it later. Maggie needs me here.”

“Why would Maggie need you when Arthur’s here?” Jenny asked skeptically. She had that gnawing jealous feeling growing inside and she didn’t like it. She knew better than to feel that way and she had made a promise to herself never to act in jealousy again. Still, it was easier said than done.

“About that,” started Tristan who quickly went quiet when Maggie stepped over.

“Look at the little fellow!” Maggie said with a smile as she looked at Jimmy. “What are you two doing here?”

“Jimmy ran in looking for his Uncle Tris,” Jenny explained. “Seems he knows right where to find him.” She gave a pointed look at Tristan who ignored her. “We better be going before Helen finds out we’re here.”

“Bye Jimmy!” Maggie waved.

Jimmy waved back. “Bye bye! Bye Tris! Bye!”

He was squirming around so much Jenny put him down and held his hand again while they walked out. It was simpler and he had energy to burn. “Don’t tell Mummy you went to find Uncle Tris,” Jenny said quietly to Jimmy, grateful for the limited vocabulary that two-year-old children possess. “It’s a secret,” she added, putting her finger up to her lips.

“Shhh…” Jimmy copied her.

“That’s my boy,” Jenny said proudly, ruffling his hair. She brought him back inside and unbuttoned his coat and untied his boots, all the while thinking why Tristan would be spending so much time with Maggie, especially when Arthur was on leave. (At least, that is what she heard - Jenny had yet to see Arthur herself.) Surely Maggie would rather spend time with her husband unless… unless she didn’t want to. Unless she was in love with Tristan and he with her.

Jenny tried to dismiss the thought quickly. She would not be jealous. Tristan knew better than to carry on with a married woman and wreck a happy home. Jenny knew he had a close friendship with Maggie, just like he did with herself. There should be no reason for jealousy. But why did she feel the way she did?

Suddenly Jenny’s train of thought was interrupted by a pull on her arm. Jimmy was tugging on the sleeve of her sweater. “Let’s play!” he begged her, leading her to the sitting room and giving her his teddy bear. “The bear says roar!” he jumped on her, pushing her back onto the sofa.

Jenny chucked and decided to focus on the simpler things in life than the complicated romances of Tristan Farnon.

“Actually, bears rarely make noise,” a familiar voice from the other room called out.

“I’m sure you knew that when you were two,” Jenny retorted.

“I don’t remember, but if I read it, I would have made a mental note of it.”

“And you knew how to read when you were two?” Jenny asked incredulously.

He poked his head around the corner. “Yes, I did.”

“Welcome back home Mr. Carmody,” Jenny said with a chuckle. “Care to join us?”

Jimmy ran up to Richard and showed him the teddy bear. “It goes roar!”

Richard cautiously took the bear from the little boy and looked at it. “Roaring is a sound that bears make infrequently. They also growl.”

Jimmy went into a fit of giggles, finding something funny in what Richard said, which only puzzled Richard more. “You growl!”

“Grrr…?” Richard attempted.

Jenny hid a laugh. “That’s the best you can do?”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve read any research material on bears,” Richard defended himself. He gave the teddy bear back to Jimmy. “I will leave the play acting to you two while I take a look at a strain of bacteria that Mr. Farnon has waiting for me.”

Jenny rolled her eyes. “Come on Jimmy, let’s play together. Uncle Carmody might know things about bears but doesn’t know anything about teddy bears. This teddy has a hurt leg. What can you use to fix it from your veterinarian bag?”

Richard glanced back over his shoulder as he left the room, noting how easily the little boy turned his attention back over to his aunt. Richard decided that it must be easier for someone young to engage in imaginative play like that. He had never played in that way before, even during his own childhood, and it felt foreign. However, seeing the two act that way, obviously having a good time together despite the silliness, stirred within him a longing he couldn’t describe.

Chapter Text

It was two days before Christmas Eve when Siegfried brought home the missing member of their found family. He had picked Richard up at the station in the afternoon and due to fog that had rolled in, were delayed a bit in their homecoming, allowing the two studious vets to enjoy a lively conversation on Richard’s studies and research in London.

When the two had finally returned home, darkness now fallen over the town of Darrowby, a great celebration commenced in Skeldale House. It was a private party for the residents of Skeldale, welcoming back their surrogate son or brother. Richard hardly knew how to express his gratitude and was overwhelmed at both the excitement of those who he thought of as his family receiving him home in this way and the strange feeling welling up inside of him at being back in the first place he felt that he could place roots down, surrounded by people who cared for him like he was one of their own.

After a late night of catching up with one another, and a day home at Skeldale Wednesday, the following Thursday morning was spent preparing food to bring to the Drovers, where the townspeople and farmers of Darrowby would come to spend Christmas Eve together. It was a joint effort put together by three women, Maggie arranging for the Drovers to be available and setting up the place, Mrs. Pumphrey providing food and drink, and Mrs. Hall - remarkable as she ever was - preparing the food.

The men (and Helen) knew better than to get underfoot when preparations were going on. Besides Siegfried and Tristan swiping some tasty snacks of different varieties throughout the day as they passed through the kitchen, they mainly stayed out of the way.

Richard finally found time to catch up on some periodicals while Helen and James played with Jimmy, trying to keep him from being constantly present in the kitchen.

In the afternoon, when the final preparations were being made in the kitchen and Audrey’s hands were inevitably coated with flour, the phone rang.

“Phone’s ringing!” Siegfried announced from his study. He pulled back his chair to see if anyone was going to answer it or if he would have to do the job himself.

“I’ll be there in a minute!” Audrey called out, wiping her hands on her apron before deciding to wash them entirely from the sticky dough.

The phone kept ringing. “Listen big brother, someone’s got to answer it. It could be you,” Tristan said as he sauntered by, on his way to answering the phone himself. “Darrowby 2297.”

“I’ve got a horse up here, our Duke suddenly went lame,” Mr. Dobson said. “Can hardly walk. I need someone up here to look at him.”

“Right, sorry to hear that,” Tristan replied, looking around. Everyone seemed to be so preoccupied. So was he, as he had plans to be with Maggie that evening. He hesitated to say that he would be the one to go look at the horse. “I’m sure we can have someone take a look.”

“Thanks,” Dobson replied. “If you come up, I have some wine made I’d like to give you.”

Tristan’s face paled a bit as he heard mention of the wine. He remembered the consequences of his and Siegfried’s drinking too much of it two summers past, and also knew that wine would be much of the payment received for looking at the horse. “That’s very good of you,” he said, despite how he was truly feeling. “We’ll be up shortly.” He hung up the phone. “Someone’s needed up at Dobson’s.”

Siegfried looked up from his work at his desk and took off his reading glasses, staring at Tristan. “And? Go on!”

“It’s his horse Duke. Went lame all of a sudden he said. Can’t wait,” Tristan explained, starting to walk away.

“By your leaving, does this mean you are going to look at the horse?” Siegfried asked.

“Sorry, but I have a tight schedule. If you won’t go yourself, why don’t you send Richard? He did specialize in horses,” Tristan said pointedly before running off to leave the premises for the Drovers and Maggie.

Siegfried shook his head in dismay. He wished the war made Tristan more responsible but his little brother was practically the same Tristan as years prior. With hardly another alternative, and not wanting to take James away from his family, Siegfried realized that Richard wouldn’t really be a bad option. He himself would have gone, as it could just be an abscess, but he had promised Mrs. Hall to help bring things over to the Drovers for that evening and he didn’t want to disappoint her, though if he absolutely had to, he knew she’d understand that the animals always come first. “Carmody!” he yelled through the house, causing the young man in the other room to jump up from his spot in the chair and dash over to Siegfried’s office, book still in hand.

“Yes, Mr. Farnon?” Richard replied.

“You’re going to do some field work,” Siegfried said with a smile. “Dobson has a horse that suddenly went lame. Might be as simple as an abscess but it is best to take a close look.”

“I’ve recently read about a case of sudden lameness. It could be navicular syndrome, where the navicular bone and tissues around it are inflamed. Most of the time it affects both forelimbs in horses. Did Mr. Dobson say which leg or legs were affected?” Richard asked eagerly, ready to put his book knowledge back into practice.

“Tristan took the call, so all I know is what he told me,” Siegfried replied, “which isn’t much.” He tossed Carmody the keys, which miraculously were out in plain sight on the desk instead of where they lived in the hall. “You can take the Rover.”

Richard managed to catch the keys all the while holding onto his book, which was no easy feat. “Thank you Mr. Farnon.” He quickly went to get what he needed.

“You won’t be needing the book in hand,” Siegfried reminded him, watching from a distance to make sure he had everything.

Richard glanced down at his book, A Review of Knowledge Available Concerning Digestion in Domestic Herbivora. Mr. Farnon was right; the material in that book didn’t cover leg injuries in equines. “Right, I’ll just leave that here.” He placed the book down on a table in the sitting room and reluctantly closed it, mentally taking a note of what page and paragraph he stopped at. “I’ll be back as soon as possible, but if I am delayed, don’t wait for me to go to the party. I’ll join you later on.”

Later that evening, the Aldersons drove their truck into town to meet the rest of the family at Skeldale before going to the Drovers. Jenny had prepared her contribution of food back home at Heston and brought the platters she was able to make into the Drovers.

“Looks great love,” Helen commended her sister.

“Thanks,” Jenny said with a smile as she put the platters of food on the table with the rest of them. She looked across the room at Tristan who was at Maggie’s side. They seemed inseparable. Jenny wanted both of them to be happy, but that was not the way to do it. Maggie was a married woman, supposedly Arthur was even there (although she hadn’t seen him all evening), and Tristan should have known better. Besides, Jenny still carried a torch for him and wished she was by his side instead of Maggie.

More and more people filled up the pub as the evening went on. Jenny had made her rounds conversing with her neighbors and catching up on local news. However, she couldn’t help but keep her eye on Tristan periodically through the evening. She was just waiting for him to sneak off somewhere with Maggie, but didn’t know if she could handle it. She reasoned it was probably better if she didn’t know what went on.

Just when she thought she wouldn’t be able to catch even a brief moment with Tristan, she felt a tap on her shoulder and turning around came face to face with him, sans Maggie.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked.

Jenny looked around and nodded. Overall it was a pleasurable evening and she didn’t want to tell him that the only letdown was him not being with her and instead with Maggie. She had plenty of questions for him but it wasn’t her place to ask.

“There’s a lot of things I want to talk to you about, but I don’t have the time and it’s a bit crowded in here,” Tristan said, stepping closer to her so he didn’t have to raise his voice.

“Like what?” she asked, looking up into his eyes.

“There’s got to be somewhere better,” Tristan chuckled as he got pushed forward by some people walking behind him. He reached inside his jacket pocket, as if he was searching for something. “What did Maggie do with it…” he muttered. Giving up on his search, he looked back at Jenny. “Anyway, not important right now. I know tomorrow’s busy, but what are you doing Boxing Day?”

“I’m supposed to be watching Jimmy while Helen and James go to Mrs. Pumphrey’s charity ball,” she told him.

“That’s where I’m going too, but I’d like to talk to you before I go, and tonight I have to leave in an hour. Maggie’s husband, Arthur—“ Tristan started to explain before he got cut off by crotchety old farmer Biggins.

“You there! You vets just care about two things! Money and yourselves! I have a goat up at home who cut her leg, and no one will come up to care for her!”

“I’m sure we just didn’t get the call,” Tristan said, miffed at the interruption.

Siegfried, overhearing the conversation, stepped over. “What’s all this about?”

And so Jenny started backing away, all of Tristan’s attention now turned away from her, just as it was all evening. She couldn’t help but be annoyed at Biggins’ interruption, but could she have expected better?

After finishing her pint in hand, she made her way to her father. “When you’re ready to go home, if you can’t find me, I’ll be with Helen and I’ll get a ride home with her,” she told him.

Jenny made her way through the crowded pub, pushing her way past the people she had known her whole life and yet who suddenly felt like strangers to her. She didn’t feel like being with others anymore and needed to slip outside to get some fresh air and a quiet moment to herself. With the amount of people inside, surely no one would notice her sudden absence and she would vanish into the fog as if she were not ever there.

She took a deep breath of the air, but the stillness of the damp air only seemed to send shivers down her spine. How different Darrowby looked when blanketed in fog, shapes and figures hidden and obscured from sight. Standing in the same spot she stood in last summer with Percy, she relived the moment with him, the words that quietly passed between them, their farewell kiss. It was never serious with him, as much as she tried to make a go of it; not like how she felt about Tristan. She thought she was done with her jealousy over Tristan, but seeing him act that way with Maggie brought that undesirable feeling back again, stronger than ever. How she longed to be the girl he coerced under the mistletoe!

Jenny rubbed her hands together to warm them up, squinting to try and make out the figures in the distance. What seemed to be a car was only the left over paraphernalia from the market stalls left in the town center. All that was familiar looked so strange and foreign under the cover of the dark foggy night. Not even the moon was able to cast its beams to illuminate the town.

Things that she thought she knew were not as they seemed. And what did she really know about Tristan and Maggie? Why should she interfere? She had no hold on either of them, and so she would let it go.

The cold of being outside made Jenny shiver and she then realized she had forgotten her coat back at Skeldale. She looked back at the Drovers in a brief moment of contemplation, before deciding to go get it without getting permission to go into the house. No one was there anyway.

She opened the front door of Skeldale, greeted by four happy dogs, closing it behind herself before turning on a light. She made sure all the curtains were drawn and closed tightly, which they were. Jenny found her coat strewn across the back of the couch and as she walked toward it, looked down at the book on research of domestic herbivora digestion. She ran her fingers along the title of the book. A few years ago she would have eagerly entertained the thought of gaining more knowledge from books on the animals she cared for. Now she learned it all by practice.

It was quiet and dark in the house, a nice change after having to put on the act of being happy and joyous in the Drovers. Since no one was home, Jenny picked up the research book and sat on the couch, flipping through the first few pages to get into the content of the book. The dogs joined her in the room and snoozed in front of her, content and together. Little did she know that the peaceful time she had to herself was fleeting.

Chapter Text

A half hour later, Jenny still absorbed in the book and diagrams in the section on equines, a sound came from the back door - the turning of a door handle and the door then opening and closing again. The sleeping dogs in front of the unlit fireplace stirred from their sleep, Dash briefly raising his head from Jess’s back before laying it down to rest again. Addie jumped up and started barking but made no move to go investigate for herself. Hamish got up and ran to the kitchen.

“Hello Hamish” she heard from the other room. Carmody. The man who originally thought that talking to animals was foolish. Jenny couldn’t help but smile to herself. She then looked down at the book and realized that she was holding onto Richard Carmody’s precious property. Closing it quickly, she stood up to return it to its place but was caught red handed putting it back. She stood still, staring at the young man who walked into the room.

Any other young man might have thought it strange that a young lady who didn’t live there was all alone in the house. But not Carmody. His first thought was why she was holding his book and what she thought of it if she did read it.

The two stood there for a moment, neither daring to say the first word. “Sorry, I didn’t…” Jenny started to say as Richard started talking at the same time.

“May I ask…” Richard then went silent as Jenny did.

“You go,” Jenny said, placing the book back in the place where she found it on the table and stepping back.

“You might as well talk first as what you were about to say will most likely answer my question,” Richard countered.

Jenny walked farther away to the other side of the sofa, keeping the distance between them greater than before. “I know how much your books mean to you. I just looked through it is all. Sorry I didn’t get your permission first.”

Richard looked down at the book. It seemed unharmed, spine still in good condition, and he reasoned that he probably did more harm to it carrying it around the way he did. “That did answer my question. Thank you Miss Alderson.” He then walked over to the dining room table and placed down two bottles of wine that he got from the Dobsons.

Jenny raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Didn’t realize you were a big drinker.”

“I’m not. Tristan calls me a lightweight, like James is.”

“What’s with the wine then?” Jenny asked, walking over to the bottles and picking one up to inspect it.

“That’s from Mr. Dobson as a payment for me going up to look at his horse. He said Mr. Farnon wouldn’t mind that as payment. The horse did have an abscess in the hoof, but that reminds me to finish reading on navicular syndrome…” Richard trailed off.

“Happens more in Warmbloods and Thoroughbreds. Do you know why that is?” Jenny asked nonchalantly as she opened up one of the bottles of wine and grabbed two glasses.

Richard turned to look at Jenny with a questioning look. He was going to ask how she knew that but her question asking him to share his knowledge was stronger than his curiosity. “A hereditary link has been proposed but the exact cause of navicular syndrome is not fully understood. It appears to be multifactorial in nature. We do know that poor hoof conformation is certainly a major risk factor.”

“Sounds like you know plenty already.” Jenny handed him a glass of Dobson’s wine. “Go ahead, drink it. You worked for it, so might as well enjoy it.” Richard looked at the glass as if it were poisoned. “It won’t hurt you.” Jenny took a sip from her own glass. “It’s good.”

Richard hesitated but then took a sip after Jenny did and sat down on a chair near the fireplace in the living room. “May I ask how you knew that navicular syndrome is more common in certain breeds of horses than others?”

“You’re not the only one who knows how to read,” Jenny replied. “When Candy got injured, I read up on all kinds of lameness in horses. What causes it, what you can do about it. Simple as that.”

“And that doesn’t… bore you?” Richard asked, knowing how his discussions would sometimes turn away even the most studious person.

Jenny shook her head. “It’s important to learn. If I can put it into practice, even better.” She paused, wondering if he thought her silly for reading what mattered mostly to vets. Finishing the glass of wine, she brought over the bottle and refilled both her glass and Richard’s. “I wanted to be a vet once,” she said simply.

“Why didn’t you?” Richard asked.

“Quit school at 14. Thought I was needed at the farm more than learning things at school I couldn’t put into practice on the farm.” Jenny sat down on the sofa and pulled her legs up underneath her. “Scares me some. I wonder what foolish decisions I’m making now that I think are good ideas but aren’t actually. If I stayed on at school I might’ve made something of meself. Become a vet and done important work, like you and James and Siegfried and…”

“Tristan?” Richard finished her thought for her.

Jenny shrugged. “Lady vets aren’t too common anyway.”

“You could have been the next Aleen Cust.”

“Who’s that?” Jenny asked.

“Only the first female veterinary surgeon to be recognized by the Royal College of Veterinary Surgeons back in 1922,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Only 20 years ago?” Jenny said, wrinkling her nose in disbelief.

“The Gender Equality Law only came into effect in 1919.”

“Explains why us Alderson women were always farmers. At least no one could deny us that.” Jenny stared down at the dogs, who had little worries and who were comfortably resting as a pack. She looked back up at Richard, who seemed to not know what to say to her next, and so she continued, “I could have gone to Leeds to work in a department store. I just don’t know what I’m to do with meself. A part of me says to stay here. At the same time, I wonder if I’m wasting the best years away.”

“I didn’t want to leave Darrowby either,” Richard admitted. “There’s something about Skeldale that makes you feel as if you’ve come back to a home filled with your family and friends that you’ve always known, even if you haven’t. If it makes you feel any better, land girls like Doris were brought in to do jobs that you’ve been trained in your whole life. You’re needed here, at least until the war is over. It’s a way of doing your part.”

Jenny felt a sense of relief and a bit of pride as he described her job as being needed. He viewed her as doing something important, unlike those in her past - namely Percy - who had more of a traditional view of women as the weaker sex. Ready to switch the subject, Jenny asked, “Are you happy in London? Besides your job that is. Do you have lots of friends?”

“I have plenty of acquaintances,” Richard said, absent-mindedly petting Hamish’s head while he thought.

Jenny nodded but didn’t say anything further in an attempt to help him open up.

“There’s a difference between friends and acquaintances,” Richard continued. “Lots of people have acquaintances but they don’t have to be friends. Whereas if you have a friend they are always your acquaintance. Does that make sense?” He asked not to see if she could understand the logical matter but instead to make sure that the matter he was discussing was logical.

Jenny nodded in agreement. “You’re saying you don’t have friends, only people you know because you’re there everyday with them.”

“Precisely.”

“I can’t imagine why they wouldn’t want to be your friend.”

Richard sighed. It wasn’t easy to explain because he didn’t understand the totality of the situation. “It’s the way of the world. Even among animals. Survival of the fittest. Natural selection. Whatever you want to call it, it’s the same every time. The strongest and best survive and the ones who are… different… get pushed to the side. Tolerated, yes, but not accepted.”

Jenny stood up from her place on the sofa and walked over to Richard. She sat on the armrest of his chair and really wished to give him a hug or to hold his hand, as if he were a little boy without a parent to comfort him. However she restrained, knowing it was neither proper nor her place to do so. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“They seem to think there is. I’m not like the rest of the researchers. When they converse among themselves in a more casual setting, they seem to speak in another language somehow, both silently and through figures of speech. While I excel at the scientific aspects of conversation, I must admit it’s not easy to communicate in other ways with my fellow colleagues.”

“You’re one of the smartest people I know,” Jenny said. “And whether or not they include you in their conversations, it doesn’t change the fact that you are who you are. You might be different than everyone else, but different can also mean special. In a good way.” Jenny paused, a smile playing on her lips as she thought of just the right word to use. “I’d even say you Mr. Carmody are remarkable.”

Richard looked up at Jenny and smiled. She was doing her best to make him feel better about himself. He knew he was different. The world made him quite aware of that ever since he was younger. His parents, on the rare occasion when they were with him instead of abroad, constantly pointed out his peculiarities to him, the saving grace being his intelligence and determination (bordering on obsessions) with studying and memorizing what he had learned.

The thought that Jenny, just like the others who lived at Skeldale and who had adopted him into their found family, didn’t view his unusual personality and habits as a disability, was a true comfort to him. “You and everyone else here are very kind. It feels to me that you do understand what I find so hard to explain. I wish more people were like you.”

Jenny’s heart broke a little at the man in front of her opening up the emotions he kept locked away. Why did other people have to be so harsh on others just because they are different from the majority of people? It couldn’t be natural selection. She didn’t want to believe that.

Jenny couldn’t let the world be so hopeless. Not as long as there were people like herself and Richard Carmody. She said with determination and finality, “One day there will be a world where we both will be accepted. Not where we fit into the crowd, otherwise you wouldn’t be you and I wouldn’t be me. I mean a world where they view us all as equals, no matter how we think and feel or whether we’re man or woman. We’re all humans just doing our best to get along. Only thing that makes us different from anyone else are the differences they point out. Until then we’ll have to muddle through and make the best of our lives, live them so people see only the good in us and won’t even notice what makes us different.”

This was the first time the two of them had a chance to enjoy a conversation together, one-on-one. Their companionship was amicable, Carmody noted. It wasn’t the same as how he had observed Jenny interact with her family or even with Mrs. Hall, Siegfried, or Tristan. Nevertheless he had enjoyed their time together so far but still wasn’t sure where he stood with her.

“Might I ask if I may…” he started before stopping, suddenly second guessing his judgement at asking her at that time. “You see there’s that difference I was talking about before and I wasn’t sure what we are considered.”

“What are you asking?” Jenny asked, puzzled at Richard’s question.

“The difference between friends and acquaintances. I know we are currently acquaintances, but I was wondering if I may be considered your friend,” Richard said, looking down at his feet.

“We are friends,” Jenny said, finally giving in to her desire to comfort him and placing her hand over his. “We’ve been friends for a long time.”

Richard looked down at his hand and then back up at her, a small smile appearing on his face. “Thank you,” he said, pausing for a second before adding, “I think you’re remarkable too.”

Jenny squeezed his hand in a silent thank you.

Chapter Text

The silence after the two had made vows of friendship lasted for a while. Hamish nudged his owner’s hand, asking to be pet and Carmody obliged his dog. Richard looked over at Jenny and decided to ask the next logical question. “I never did ask why you aren’t with the others at the party and how you happened to be here without anyone else.”

Jenny looked up from her wine glass she was staring into. “Got tired of all the people I guess.” She glanced at the grandfather clock before standing up to light the fire. “They’ll be out still for a while. Dot Fawcett’s watching Jimmy and Helen and James will pick him up for church services tonight. That’s not for another hour at least. Siegfried and Audrey will be going with them. And who knows when Tristan will get back.” She knelt in front of the fireplace and watched as the logs were lit.

“He does have a tendency to get home late after being out at the Drovers,” Richard agreed.

The mention of Tristan caused Jenny to forget about the match she was holding in her hand and the flame got close to her fingers. “Oh!” she exclaimed, quickly throwing the match into the fireplace and blowing on the hot tips of her fingers.

Richard picked up on the nervous energy Jenny suddenly displayed. “Are you all right?”

“Fine, just burned is all,” Jenny muttered sarcastically, looking closer at her fingers before deciding that they were actually unscathed.

“Is there anything I can do?” Richard asked with a concerned tone.

Jenny shook her head. “It’s not bad, see?” She held out her hand for him to look closer.

Richard looked down at her fingers, which appeared to be all right just as she said, before next glancing at the clock and then back at Jenny again. “Don’t you have to go to church too?”

“I don’t have to go,” Jenny said determinedly. “I’m an adult and can make up me own mind.”

“Yes, of course, I see that. I don’t go either for other reasons, however, if you wanted to go-“ Richard started to offer.

“I know. I don’t. I rather stay here if you don’t mind.” Jenny stood up and turned off the lamp as the fire illuminated the room enough with its flickering light. She walked over to the record player next. “We can have our own party,” she said, putting the needle down on the record.

The sound of the song ‘Winter Wonderland’ started playing from the record player. Jenny went over to the half full bottle of wine and poured more into her glass and Richard’s.

“I never did understand this song,” Richard said, placing the glass of wine down on the table. He was afraid Jenny was starting to drink him under the table and he didn’t want his senses dulled like they were two years prior. “Why would someone name a snowman Pastor Brown?”

“It’s just a song about two people who’d like to get married,” Jenny answered.

“It’s about people in pair bonds then,” Richard said, still looking confused.

“Pair bonds?” Jenny chuckled. “You mean two people in love with each other?”

Richard looked at Jenny, wondering if she would prefer the abbreviated description of a pair bond or the longer explanation. He decided on something in between. “Pair bonds are not just between two humans. Animals form pair bonds too. It’s both psychological and behavioral, a social monogamy between two adults, often leading to a lifelong relationship that typically includes the upbringing of offspring. The majority of species that form pair bonds are birds, but there are fish and some mammals besides humans that do too.”

Jenny mirrored Richard’s prior confused expression. He was an odd one, in a charming likable way, even if he did seem to like the subject of pair bonds, which to anyone else would seem strange. At least, it seemed strange to her to call a crush or falling in love or even marriage ‘pair bonds’. She knew plenty about love, and her knowledge on the topic especially grew over the events of the past year. Richard seemed to overcomplicate it. She explained simply, “For the song, it’s two humans in love.”

“As I mentioned earlier, regrettably, the study of dynamics of human relationships is not my strong point,” Richard admitted. “Tristan is good at it and I’ve seen Mr. Farnon attempt to pair bond with someone but he seems to have failed to impress her.”

“Siegfried’s got what he needs right here,” Jenny said, thinking of the family relationships of the patchwork family of Skeldale. “What may seem to you like his ‘failures’ might only come from him not fully trying. Lots of men just flirt to make sure they still have what it takes.”

“Like Tristan?”

Jenny bit her lower lip. “Maybe.”

Richard squinted as he looked closely at Jenny’s eyes. All this talk of pair bonding and he hadn’t noticed it before, but as she leaned closer to him he could see them up close. He didn’t notice the depth of her brown eyes nor her appearance. He focused on the fact that her eyes were indeed dilated, though perhaps it was just because of the low lighting in the room. The other option was that she might consider him a potential partner in a relationship, and that thought simultaneously unnerved him and caused an excitement similar to that of discovering a new cure to a disease. “Are you currently in a pair bond?”

Jenny nearly dropped the glass in her hands. “Me?” she managed to say. “No, course not.”

“If you have any problems, Tristan can help,” Richard offered, suddenly remembering that even if she felt some sort of attraction to himself, he would not be the first man she wanted to be in a pair bond with. “He helped me immensely when I asked Doris out.”

The talk of Tristan and falling in love caused in Jenny a nervousness she hadn’t felt in a long time. She didn’t want Carmody to find out that she was in love with Tris, even if it was unrequited. She could feel the blush rising in her cheeks, so she walked over to where the dogs were lying in front of the fire and turned away so she wasn’t facing Richard. “I don’t have problems.”

“I would say that wanting to enter into a pair bond with a married man would constitute problems,” Richard said matter-of-factly.

Jenny slowed turned to look at Richard and gave him such a quizzical expression it was as if he had started speaking a foreign language. “Married? Who are you talking about?” she asked.

“Private Caldwell. You called him Percy,” Richard replied.

Time seemed to stop entirely. Richard stared at Jenny waiting for her to say something and Jenny couldn’t find the right words to say. She wondered how Richard Carmody of all people, knew Percy. He wasn’t in Darrowby when Percy lived there. Even her own father knew little of Percy, though he didn’t seem impressed or acted like he cared to know more about him. But perhaps the most shocking thing of all was not that Carmody knew who Percy was but rather that he knew something about Percy that she didn’t know, and really, never even imagined.

Eventually jumbled thoughts turned to words and Jenny was able to say something. “Percy married?” she said with a nervous laugh. “You must be wrong. He never mentioned anything about being married, and I saw him last summer. He wrote to me in July and didn’t mention that.”

“You’re mistaken,” Richard disagreed. “He has been married for over a year. I know because I have spoken to his wife.”

Jenny wanted to say something. Anything. A witty one-liner, a sarcastic remark, a smart reply. Even an, “Of course,” would have done. But the words couldn’t form coherently as the information hadn’t completely sunk in. She slowly sat down in front of the fire and just stared at the small flames.

All those times with Percy had been nothing but adulterous dates. A scandalous romantic affair for a movie, the kind where the woman dies at the end (the woman who isn’t entirely a femme fatale but just misguided and in love with a married man) and the audience feels sorry for her but are glad that the man went back to his wife and lives happily ever after. The hurt feeling sunk in her stomach like a lead weight. How could she have been so trusting by letting her guard down?

Percy had never intended to marry her. Thinking back now, he never made a mention of marriage. She would have lived a life of sin had she gone to London. Her love for her home and old longing for Tristan tied her down to Darrowby. But now she was grateful — grateful she hadn’t left. She would have given up so much for so little.

Jenny was so completely absorbed in her own thoughts that she hadn’t heard Carmody continue rattling off even more information about pair bonds. She looked over at him and felt an adoration for someone so unchanged by the world. Innocent in a way. Unique, smart, but naive to human affections and interactions.

“Even right now you are exhibiting physical signs that you would like to be in a pair bond,” Richard said, and in a surprisingly bold action, undoubtedly brought on by the few glasses of wine (he had lost track of how many refills the one glass had gotten), he came closest to her. “Your pulse, is it fast?” he questioned her.

“You’re daft,” Jenny laughed it off. She patted the spot on the rug next to her to invite Richard to sit down. He did so, a bit awkwardly, and the four dogs made room for him to join them in front of the fire.

Richard was not one to give up so easily. Mr. Farnon might have told him not to interfere in his love life, but Jenny made no such request. It was all very fascinating and a part of the human species he wanted to research even more, to see if what he read about in books was true in the real world. “Once I mentioned pair bonds, your demeanor changed and you’ve become jittery, your pupils are dilated, and I’m sure that if you checked your pulse, you would find it increased,” he said matter of factly.

Jenny held out her hand for Richard to take it. “Check it then. Only prove you wrong.”

Richard looked down at her hand. He was used to feeling and handling animals, but humans were another story. Slowly he reached out and put his fingers on her wrist. “Pulse rate is close to 100 beats per minute, which is elevated considering you haven’t been involved in more strenuous activity.”

“So if you’re a mind reader, tell me, who am I in love with?” Jenny asked teasingly.

“You should know yourself if you get the symptoms every time you are around that person. Or maybe it’s just talking about a particular person…” Richard said, deep in thought.

With that last statement, Jenny realized he was hitting too close to home. “Do you think I’m in love with you?” she asked, trying to steer the subject into a different direction to throw him off course.

The idea was somewhat shocking to Richard, though he realized the straightforward Jenny might have asked something like that. The best way to find out was to ask her in return. “Are you?”

“Anyone who saw us here, together, late at night with no one in the house other than four dogs might get that idea,” Jenny insinuated, moving closer to Richard.

Richard moved back in response. Suddenly he wondered if he was mirroring her actions. That was another physical sign of being in love. He nervously tried checking his own pulse without Jenny noticing but she of course did.

“Are you in a pair bond Mr. Carmody?” Jenny teased, successfully turning the question on him and directing the focus off herself.

Richard quickly shook his head. “No. I’m much too busy with my research work in London.”

“And what about Doris?” Jenny asked as she got up and grabbed Richard’s glass of wine. She placed it in his hand and refilled it.

“I haven’t spoken with her since I left for London,” Richard apprehensively said, before drinking down what she had given him.

Jenny returned to her spot next to Richard, sitting down and tucking her knees up in front of her. “My eyes aren’t dilated anymore, are they?”

Richard leaned over to get a closer look. “Not particularly.”

“Yours are,” Jenny said with a grin.

“They are?” Richard asked nervously.

Jenny just nodded in response.

“I think it’s time you better be going home,” Richard said, scrambling to his feet and trying not to dizzily fall back to the ground in the process. He reached his arm out to help Jenny stand up (or was it to help himself keep his balance?) but wasn’t sure if that was the proper thing to do.

“Why?” Jenny asked, seemingly enjoying making Richard feel and act awkwardly.

“It’s getting late. Your father might worry.”

Jenny laughed at the thought. “I could stay out all night and he wouldn’t worry.”

“Are you pulling my leg?” Richard asked warily, deciding to be forward with her in return.

Jenny shrugged. “Maybe. I just don’t like you trying to get rid of me based on the dilation of your eyes, which if you ask me is silly. Turn on a light and they’ll go back to normal.”

“It’s time for you to go home,” Richard said, ending the conversation there.

“Kicked out of the house due to a natural occurrence of your eyes,” Jenny scoffed. “Just wait til I tell Helen.”

“Yes, well, no one will hear about this from me,” Richard declared, reaching to loosen his bow tie. He was feeling flushed… or was it just from sitting so close to the fire?

Jenny grabbed her coat from the back of the sofa where she had she left it earlier. “If Tris heard about this he’d never believe it,” she muttered, trying to get her coat on, but one sleeve kept eluding her.

Richard didn’t know if he should help her with her coat, which she seemed to be having difficulties with getting her arm through the sleeve. He reached out to help but at that point she had already managed to get it on. “Goodbye,” he said from his place in the sitting room as Jenny made her way to the front door.

Jenny opened up the door and was greeted by a thick blanket of fog, just like what had delayed Carnody’s arrival two days prior. “I don’t think I’m going anywhere.”

Chapter Text

Richard stepped around the corner to see what Jenny meant when she said that she wasn’t going anywhere. Logically she had to go home as there was no place for her here. Then he came face to face with the fog. Thick as he had ever seen it, he knew then what she had meant. It would be a slow trek home for her, and in the dark, the already dangerous conditions would be made even worse.

“Guess I’ll have to stay,” Jenny said simply, closing the front door.

“Forced to stay due to a natural occurrence,” Richard said, altering Jenny’s prior statement. He stopped himself after saying it, and in his quick moment of quiet contemplation, wondered if he again was mirroring not only Jenny’s actions but also her words.

As Jenny walked back to the sitting room she stopped and looked up at the mistletoe someone - probably Tristan - had tied up in the doorway. “Wait -“ she said, grabbing Carmody by his arm to stop him. Her eyes darted from Richard’s eyes to the mistletoe. “You don’t celebrate so you probably don’t believe in mistletoe traditions.”

Richard looked up at the sprig and back at Jenny. “Ah, Viscum album. Mistletoe. It’s a silly superstition that bad luck will follow anyone who doesn’t kiss under it.”

“Silly, of course,” Jenny muttered, walking back to the sleeping dogs in the sitting room. Why had she felt an urge to kiss Richard Carmody? Richard Carmody, the man who when she first met him, she used to think that he talked about viruses, diseases, and bacteria like they were old friends. She knew now he went much deeper than his scientific scholarly exterior, and her friendship with him had grown exponentially over the last few hours. But why had she wanted to kiss him? Was it out of affection for the young man who had opened his heart to her and she to him? Or was it out of rebellion, to prove if only to herself, that she could kiss and love anyone she chose without any consequences?

Jenny couldn’t discredit the feeling of being captivated by the possibility of something more than a fleeting late-night conversation with a young research veterinarian; a thought that made her gaze linger just a moment longer on Richard's blue eyes before the image of Tristan once again reasserted its hold. She felt a tinge of pain just thinking that her actions might have put Richard in a socially awkward position and tried to quickly think of something else to say or do to switch subjects. “Come on, might as well finish the rest of the bottle and no one will ever know the difference.”

The last thing Richard wanted to do was to hurt Jenny’s feelings, but somehow he got the sense that he had hurt her in some way, or at the very least, disappointed her. On the contrary, he wanted to do whatever was in his power to make it up to her. But how could he if he didn’t know what he did wrong? Perhaps she was superstitious and was worried about not being kissed after standing with him under the mistletoe. Though it was an old tradition, these were modern times. She should be more reasonable.

At the same time, he felt a new feeling inside of him, a tingling sensation that felt like excitement, nervousness, and adoration were thrown together and shaken up, creating a new undiscovered feeling. He didn’t know what to make of it. He wasn’t positive but had an inclination that maybe the person Jenny was interested in a pair bond with was himself. Very few women paid attention to him and most were scared off by his affinity for knowledge on a variety of subjects and his special interest in veterinary and bacterial research. Jenny hadn’t seemed put off by his ramblings and he wondered if that meant she considered him as a possible partner in a future pair bond.

Richard’s head felt like it was swimming with both musings and wine. The alcoholic drinks had made him feel uncharacteristically emboldened. In the back of his fog-like feeling mind, he wondered when the rest of the family would return and he worried about their first impressions. Like Jenny had said before, what might appear to other people’s eyes was not really what was going on between the two of them. Would his reputation be ruined or would he just become the next Tristan?

Jenny wished Tristan would come back through the front door and find her alone with Carmody. Though she wasn’t in love (not romantically anyway) with the book smart young researcher from London, she enjoyed his company and he would be a good ploy to show that she could get along without always hoping for Tristan to notice her (though in her heart she knew that nothing could be farther from the truth).

“Up for a game of cards?” Jenny asked, pulling a deck out from where they were kept in the cabinet.

Richard looked at the grandfather clock and then back at the front door. “I suppose we have some time.”

“Course we do,” Jenny said as she shuffled the cards.

The evening pressed on. No one else had returned home by the time the clock had chimed midnight. The two young people were by now drunk, the one bottle of wine completely empty (the other saved for Siegfried and untouched), and were happily playing a card game and making up their own rules as they went along when the clock made them aware of the time.

“I wonder if I could get home now,” Jenny said, slowly standing up from her spot in front of the fireplace.

“Best not risk it,” Richard said.

Confused at his sudden change of heart, Jenny was confused and torn as to what to do. “You want me to stay now?”

“Out of safety,” Richard clarified, pulling on her hand to bring her back down to his side.

Unsteady on her feet, the tug on Jenny’s hand brought her quickly (and not very gracefully) back to the floor. She propped herself up, closer in proximity to Richard than she had been all evening.

Their closeness caused Richard to feel his heart skip a beat. It was funny to feel so alive while being so inebriated. He was scared about what he wanted to say and do, yet excited to try it, as if he were discovering a part of himself that lay dormant for years. Looking softly into Jenny’s eyes, he said, “About that mistletoe, just in case it is bad luck not to kiss…”

“To be on the safe side…” Jenny whispered, moving closer to him.

“It’s silly, but…” Richard started to say as Jenny learned in and gave him a kiss, cupping her hands on his face. Although not as passionate as it could have been (some might have considered it overly chaste), the tender kiss shared between the two of them was enough to elicit a second one after their lips parted.

Richard pulled back slowly and gazed into Jenny’s eyes. “We were under it twice,” he said, as if to justify the second kiss.

“That makes it all better then.” Jenny wrapped her arms around Richard’s neck. “You know I can’t stay here but I can’t leave either. If anyone comes back and finds us like this they’ll have a fit.” She then pushed Richard’s mop of hair off of his forehead from where it rebelliously laid. “You need a haircut.”

Touch was not a love language Carmody knew well, but instead of his natural bristling feeling that he got when making physical contact with another person, he let her play with his hair. “I’ll get it done Monday.” He never gave much thought to his hairstyle before so he couldn’t explain why he said that.

“That’s three days. You won’t be here then.” She leaned back and laid her head on Carmody’s legs, fiddling with his bow tie.

“I’ve got to get back to London. I’m working,” he stated.

“Now?” Jenny asked, raising her head to look at him.

Richard shook his head. “Sunday.”

Jenny dropped her head back onto his legs then said simply, “I’ve got to go.”

“Now?”

“Afraid so. I’m in too deep already.”

Richard looked at the windows as if to see outside, but they were tightly blocked off by the blackout curtains. “It’s dangerous out there.”

Jenny untied his bow tie and pulled it off. “If I were to get in an accident on the way home and die would you miss me?”

Richard wondered what she was going to do with his bow tie, but then she hit him with this philosophical question, or what seemed to be philosophical. His head felt too full to process everything. But would he miss her? He couldn’t check to see if he was exhibiting physical symptoms of wanting to be in a pair bond. But even without scientific confirmation, he was enjoying his time with her. So, all things considered, he finally stammered, “I — I believe I would.”

“I better stay here then,” Jenny said as she tried to tie his bow tie around her wrist as if it were a bracelet.

“Where? There’s no room for you,” Richard said, trying his best to remain practical, though he knew after their kisses that all common sense had left him earlier.

Jenny looked around for options and her eyes fell upon a good choice. “I’ll stay here, on the sofa.”

“And have everyone find us both together?” Richard said in dismay.

“You have your room.”

“I have a cupboard,” he clarified.

Jenny sat up. “Selfish Tristan. Taking the good bed for himself and not thinking about you.”

“It is his,” Richard pointed out.

Jenny shrugged and focused her attention on the bow tie, which was not agreeable to being tied one handed while being put on the other wrist. It slid off and she picked it up, wrapping it around her wrist yet again. When Richard said no more on the matter, she added, “Tristan’s not using his bed now. He stays out late with Maggie. I think he loves her.”

“Maggie’s married. He can’t be in love with her.”

“That makes it more exciting,” Jenny said smugly, leaning back on her elbows and staring at the ceiling. “Have you ever kissed a married person?”

Richard shook his head. “I haven’t and don’t intend to start. I’m a man of principles.”

“I have, because I’m not a man of principles,” Jenny said proudly. She furrowed her brow as she thought more about what she had just said. “I’m not even a man.”

“No, you aren’t,” Richard said, gazing at the young woman in front of him. She looked different somehow. Maybe it was the way her wavy hair cascaded down near her shoulders instead of being pulled back from her face. And instead of her usual farm clothes made up of sweaters and trousers, she had on a dress with delicate buttons and a belt that fit around her waist, showing her shapely figure normally hidden by dungarees. She had even gotten rid of her old mud-caked boots for dressier shoes with shiny buckles. This was no simple farm girl in front of him. “You’re a woman.”

“A girl,” Jenny corrected him. ”Everyone says I’m only a girl. I’m the ‘farm girl’, that ‘Alderson girl,’ the ‘girl that always gets into scrapes.’ Eighteen with me whole life in front of me and I’m still just a girl. If I’m a girl then why do I feel like a grown up woman with grown up feelings?”

Richard just stared at her, unsure of how to answer her. He watched as she tried to tie the bow tie around her wrist a third time, this time being more innovative and using her teeth to grab one end while she pulled the other end with her one free hand. It worked.

Jenny smiled triumphantly and suddenly looked up at Richard as if she had a revelation. “And you’ve kissed someone who’s kissed a married person so that makes you twice removed!”

“I have?” Richard asked, clearly confused. “It does?”

“In case you forgot, I’m the girl who had an affair with a married man,” Jenny laughed, finding funny the whole situation that should be serious, but that felt completely the opposite at the moment. “He almost left her for me. But he were bound by duty and honor and chivalry and all those things that gentlemen are supposed to have so he went home.” She stoped in her rambling, getting her breath for a second before moving even closer to Richard and asking, “Did you forget that I kissed you?”

“How could I forget?” Richard asked in return.

“I was going to remind you by means of example. I’ve learned from the best. The love ‘em and leave ‘em type.” Jenny leaned over and rested her head on Richard’s shoulder. “I won’t leave you. I’ll stay by you if you want me to. You’re the first man who’s seen me as someone other than the ‘Alderson girl.’ And I love you for it.”

Richard grabbed her hand and stroked it gently. “I do believe you are drunk. In fact, I think I am too.”

“You’re sweet,” Jenny said with a sigh. Her eyes were heavy and the lateness of the night combined with the alcohol caused her to become very sleepy.

Richard was going to add something but heard the door in the kitchen open. His heart skipped a beat and the drowsiness slipped away, replaced by the adrenaline rush. He couldn’t be found there with Jenny, both of them in the condition that they were in. “Jenny,” he said, shaking her to get her to open her eyes. “Someone’s home!”

Jenny’s eyes opened wide. “Why didn’t you warn me?” she said in a whisper, getting up and grabbing his hand, pulling him to his feet and trying to help stabilize his wobbly steps, though she was no better herself. “Come on!”

The two of them made it to the stairway, trying to decide where to go before whoever it was who came back found them together.

“Up here!” Jenny decided, getting up the stairs as fast as she could go despite the dizziness she felt. As she raced into Richard’s room with him in tow and closed the door behind them, it suddenly dawned on her that she wasn’t just in Richard’s room — it was also Tristan’s room. How funny it would be if he found her there! And with Carmody of all people.

She wondered how many times she had dreamed of being there. More times than she could count on her hand. Or even both hands. Of course, in her dreams she was never alone while in his room. Not that she was alone right then, but Richard Carmody was never with her in her dreams either.

Richard had his ear to the door, straining to hear something. “It’s Mr. Farnon and the remarkable Mrs. Hall. I can’t hear anyone else.” He looked over at Jenny, who walked around the bedroom, investigating the new area. “You definitely can’t stay here.”

Chapter Text

“And yet I’m afraid you can’t leave just yet,” Richard whispered as he slowly stepped away the bedroom door.

“They’re coming?” Jenny asked quietly.

Richard just nodded his head. He looked back and forth between Tristan’s bed and his current setup in the cupboard. If there was some sort of curtain system it would be no different than having a roommate that he couldn’t see. It was a possibility.

“What if they were in love the whole time and no one knew about it? Maybe they were out on a date,” Jenny whispered, holding back a laugh. She pressed her ear to the door. “I thought I heard a cat,” she said with a giggle.

“We don’t have a cat,” Richard disagreed with her.

“I do,” she stated. “I have a cat, a dog, a ferret, two horses, Candy and Joan — you met them — dozens of sheep, cows, and chickens, and geese, and…”

“We have dogs. Dogs and a rat and that is it. There is no cat,” Richard argued.

Jenny shrugged in defeat. She couldn’t get anywhere with that and refocused her attentions on Siegfried and Mrs. Hall. “Only one door has closed. What if they shared a bedroom?”

“You needn’t think so scandalously. Besides, you’re in my room and we aren’t doing anything wrong.”

“Actually I’m in Tristan’s room,” Jenny said, walking over to the bed and sitting down on the side of it. “Makes a big difference.”

“And we can be glad that Tristan is not here,” Richard said, shuffling through the dresser drawers.

Dropping the current subject, Jenny got up and walked over to Carmody. “What are you looking for?” She knew better than to go through someone else’s belongings, but since Richard was already doing it she thought she’d indulge her curiosity.

“Something to clip up a blanket here,” Richard pointed to the door frame.

”The walls of Jericho,” Jenny giggled.

Richard looked at her with a puzzled expression. “What do walls in Jericho have to do with this?”

“It Happened One Night,” Jenny said.

“What did?” Richard asked.

Jenny rolled her eyes. “The movie, haven’t you ever seen it? With Clark Gable. He put up a blanket just like you so Claudette Colbert kept on her side of the room and he kept on his side and they called it the walls of Jericho.”

“Do I have to call it that?”

Jenny shook her head. “Not if you don’t want to. Are you afraid I’m going to watch you as you sleep while I wait to leave?”

“I’m not afraid, it’s just not… right. You can stay over there,” Richard said, pointing at Tristan’s bed. “He might not be home at all tonight if he isn’t already. And you can leave when he does come home.”

“Oh.”

“Oh what?”

“Oh as in oh,” Jenny said. “As in I’m surprised you want me to stay.”

“I can’t think of another alternative. Can you?”

“Hmm… there’s always the sofa?” Jenny suggested again.

”How will you get back downstairs without attracting the attention of others when you come from this room?”

“Here’s a blanket,” Jenny said in a silent agreement, grabbing the extra blanket from underneath the quilt and passing it to Carmody, before returning to her comfortable seat on the edge of the bed.

Richard pulled over a chair and stood on it, placing the blanket up against the doorframe but then remembering it wouldn’t just stay there. He looked around the room until his glance fell on the standing full-length mirror. Carefully disembarking from his perch on the chair, he pulled over the mirror, making quite the clamor desire his efforts to be quiet. He placed the blanket on top of the mirror and then realized that he didn’t need the blanket if he had the mirror there. He tossed the blanket back onto the bed and stared at Jenny, who stared back at him. “It was a good idea, until I realized it couldn’t stay up by itself,” he explained. “The mirror makes a much better door than I realized.”

Jenny just looked back at him with a smirk. “You don’t know how funny you look up there.”

Richard bent over to look at himself in the mirror. He was a sight. His hair a mess, bow tie missing, and drunkenly standing on a chair putting up a barrier to preserve any bit of decency he had left equaled a most unusual sight. It might have even touched him as funny if it was anyone else. Seeing himself reflected like that in the mirror was more shocking than funny. He carefully stepped down, making sure his foot was firmly on the ground before placing his other foot down, and pushed the chair back to where it lived in the room.

“Now what?” Jenny asked, swinging her legs against the side of the bed.

“I suggest we both get some rest until Tristan gets back,” Richard said, slipping behind the mirror into the cupboard.

Jenny leaned forward to try to see what Richard was doing but couldn’t see anything from her vantage point. She laid back on the bed, crossing her arms behind her head. After waiting a few minutes and not hearing anything more from Richard, she sat up and tried sneaking a peek again. “Are you sleeping?” she asked.

“No, I’m looking for my book,” he said. “I always read before sleeping. Did you take my book?” He poked his head around the mirror.

Jenny got up and walked around the room, looking for his book. “I don’t see your book and I didn’t take it.”

“You took the book I was reading downstairs,” Richard said.

“Is your book downstairs?” Jenny asked.

“You did take it!”

“I didn’t take it!”

“You know where it is, so you must have taken it.”

“I’ll go get it then,” Jenny said with a resolved sigh, knowing full well that she didn’t take his book. She walked over to the door but was suddenly stopped by Carmody, who had rushed out from the cupboard and almost knocked the mirror over in the process.

“No, stop!” Richard exclaimed, stepping in between the door and Jenny.

“What?”

“You can’t go!”

“Why not?”

“Because they- I-“ he stammered.

“Then you don’t get to read,” Jenny said, tapping him on his nose. “Back to the cupboard with you. Go on.”

Richard hesitantly listened to her direction and went back into the cupboard. Maybe she was right. He wasn’t in the mood to read.

“Is that what it’s like being married?” Jenny asked, looking at Tristan’s belongings on his dresser and picking up a cricket ball.

“What?” Richard said from his cupboard.

“What we just did,” she replied, tossing the ball up in the air and surprisingly catching it before putting it back where she found it.

“You taking my book?”

“No! And there you go again,” Jenny said with a hurt tone in her voice. “You’re blaming me for something I didn’t do! We had our first argument.” She got no response, only silence. “Don’t you want to say you’re sorry?” Still nothing. “I guess you’re not sorry,” she said, hardening her heart toward him. “I’m not sorry either because I didn’t take your book.”

Leaving Carmody in the cupboard, Jenny went over to the small desk and touched a few of the papers on top of it, glancing over them but not giving any of them much attention. Like his brother, Tristan seemed to keep many papers stacked up without a good system of organization.

As she walked away, the breeze created by her dress caused some of the papers to float listlessly to the ground. She bent over to pick them up and as she did so, she couldn’t help but see her name written on a letter. (Just as hearing one’s name is enough to get one’s attention, the eye is naturally drawn to their name being written out.)

Jenny picked up the rest of the papers and placed them back on the desk but withheld the one with her name on it. There was no signature on it, as it seemed to be only the first page with the following pages missing, but even without a signature, the handwriting was undoubtedly Percy’s. She looked up, as if someone was going to see her look at the letter. But as no one else was there, other than Carmody who seemed preoccupied at the moment, she went back to the bed and sat down to read the letter.

She felt a bit guilty reading someone else’s mail, but the letter was partially about her, and it seemed obvious that Tristan was hiding information from her. The letter might hold the key to clearing up the rest of the story.

The letter read as follows:

Tristan —

I had to write to you to get my first letter to Jenny. Her father might not take kindly to someone writing to her from London. I trust you will take her the letter and not censor it.

I put it inside the envelope with her name on it. In case you decide to open it - which I have full confidence in you that you will - I’ve also included another identical envelope that you can place the unedited letter in and seal it up so she will be none the wiser.

I can’t pretend to be on good terms with you for I am not. I know how you found out about my wife. You have your own private spy here in London! A funny chap who visited Lil about a month ago. Now you’re probably wondering how I found out about that?

I could be cruel and not tell you. I can just imagine the suspense you’re feeling right now. I’m nicer than that though, so go ahead and flip the page to the next.

I actually just ran out of room on that piece of paper. The paragraph above sounds believable doesn’t it? I’ve been told I’m a chronic liar, which I’m not proud of, so I like to think of myself as being full of imagination and an excellent storyteller instead.

Jenny flipped the piece of paper to the back but there was no second page. She had to know the ending to the story and in desperation, went back over to the desk and started flipping through the pages. The commotion of fluttering paper got the attention of her temporary roommate who poked his head around the mirror for the second time that night.

“What are you doing?” he asked, sleepily blinking at her.

“Nothing,” Jenny said quickly, turning to face him. “Oh, now you say something. Are you sorry yet?”

“Sorry for what?”

“For you not saying sorry.”

“That doesn’t even make sense…”

“Then I’m not going to talk to you,” Jenny said stubbornly.

“Sorry, what—“ Richard said, not apologizing for any prior behavior or words but because he didn’t understand what she was talking about.

Jenny turned to him with a smile. “I forgive you. Were you sleeping?” she asked, noticing his change of attire to pyjamas and an untied robe.

“Just about,” Richard said, trying to stop a yawn. “It’s awfully hard with a light on and all that noise.”

Jenny looked down at the mess of papers she was clutching in her hand. She didn’t realize she had left herself be caught red-handed. With a quick movement, she dropped them to the floor to draw attention away from her snooping. “Oh,” she said in mock surprise. She got down on her knees to pick them up, all the while searching for the second page to the letter.

“I can help,” Richard offered, coming over and picking up some papers.

The familiar handwriting again caught Jenny’s eye as Richard grabbed the piece of paper she was searching for. “I’ve got it,” she said, taking the stack from his hand. She placed it back on the desk and made sure the one she was after was put on top. “You go back to sleep. I’m going to do the same.”

Richard sleepily nodded and started to turn around to go back to bed, but was stopped by Jenny.

“Wait,” she said, cutting in front of him.

“What?”

“It’s your pyjamas,” Jenny said, tilting her head to the side to size up what exactly was wrong. “You’re all crooked.”

Richard looked down at his pyjama top and saw the issue that she pointed out. He must have missed a button hole when buttoning it up which caused the two sides to be lopsided. “Oh dear,” he mumbled.

“Let me help,” Jenny said, stepping closer and starting to unbutton the top button.

Richard pulled back immediately. “What are you doing?”

“Helping,” Jenny said, coming closer to him again and picking up where she left off.

Richard stepped back again and stumbled over the chair behind him, falling unceremoniously on his backside.

Jenny stifled her laughter and held out her hand to help him up. “If you’d just hold still,” she said, pulling on his hand to get him back on his feet.

“It’s not proper,” Richard complained, but this time standing still while she unbuttoned his shirt.

“Oh stop your fussing,” Jenny said. “I have a father you know. And nephews who are younger than me that I’ve taken care of. And I’ve seen vets strip down to almost nowt on top when they’re helping with a birth.” She saw his face flush red and couldn’t help but smirk. “And if you ever saw that movie I were talking about before, you’d know that Clark Gable doesn’t have any shirt on in one scene. I saw that when I were only ten years old and I’ve survived. Ten years old… that’s almost a decade ago! Lord I’m getting old!” she rambled on as she finished buttoning up his shirt.

She stepped back and was pleased with her work. “The trick is to start at the bottom first then work up,” she said, smoothing out his shirt. “There. All better. You know what Richard, I just realized. All men are just little boys who’ve grown up. No wonder you need me to help you.”

Richard sleepily nodded without saying anything more. Jenny had plenty to say for both of them. The wine had already gone to his head and he was ready to sleep, and so he staggered back to the cupboard before the dawning realization hit him. “How can you sleep without pajamas?” he asked her.

Jenny thought he wasn’t going to pay any more attention to her, so she had previously reached for the second page of the letter, eager to read the rest of it, when no sooner had she grabbed it than she had to drop the letter back down on the desk. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine in this dress.”

“That can’t be too comfortable. Wait there,” Richard said, going over to the wardrobe and pulling out a pair of Tristan’s blue pyjamas. “Here,” he said as he shoved them to her.

“Tristan’s pyjamas?” Jenny asked, holding up the top. It was plenty large.

“It’ll do. Good night,” Richard said, again retreating to his tiny room.

Jenny decided there was no harm in putting them on, if only to appease Richard. Maybe she could have used better judgement but the wine she had earlier in the evening was still dulling her sense of reason and common sense. She slipped off her stockings, leaving them on the ground, and then started unzipping her dress but the zipper got stuck right near the end. “Blasted zipper,” she muttered.

“Are you alright?” Richard whispered from behind the mirror.

Jenny tried zipping it back up but it was stuck halfway. “Just fine,” she said through gritted teeth.

“That doesn’t sound fine.” Richard came back out again but stopped in his tracks when he saw what she was doing. He knew better than to interfere and so he backed up — straight into the mirror, almost tipping it over.

“Careful!” Jenny exclaimed, grabbing the wobbling mirror.

Carmody looked up at the ceiling and then down at the floor, avoiding eye contact with Jenny. “I’ll just be over here.”

“Don’t be such a prude!” Jenny sighed. “Just help me get it unstuck.”

“I don’t know—“ Richard objected.

“Please, I promise it won’t hurt you. If I can help you button your pyjamas you can help me with the zipper,” Jenny said as she turned around so he could view the zipper.

Richard cautiously touched it and closed his eyes before giving it a yank.

“Just pull it,” Jenny instructed him. “Oh.”

She had meant to give him instructions to pull it up but he was too fast and yanked it down, leaving the dress in a heap on the floor. She was grateful she had a full length slip on, but even that was too much for poor Mr. Carmody.

“Oh my goodness. Miss Alderson, I didn’t mean —“ Richard sputtered.

“I’m standing here half-naked in front of you, you better call me Jenny,” she said bluntly.

“I do apologize.” Richard wasn’t sure whether he should pick up the dress or not. He had never been in a situation like this before, not even in his wildest dreams, and he didn’t know the protocol.

“What are you sorry for?” Jenny asked, turning around to face him. While he was taken back and speechless, Jenny felt no regret. “You did what I asked.” She leaned over and affectionately kissed him on his cheek. “Now go to sleep.”

Richard tried to quietly retreat back into the cupboard, but when backing up his foot was caught on the dress and walking away he heard the sound of ripping cloth. He turned around slowly and looked down at the ground. “Sorry, I’ll fix it,” he muttered, reaching down to grab it before being intercepted by Jenny.

“No, don’t bother,” she said, picking up the dress herself and looking at the rip down the side following the seam. It appeared to be fixable despite the severity of the tear. “Nowt we can do now.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, walking back into the cupboard. Richard wasn’t sure what made him feel the flustered way he had - was it the wine or was it the kiss? He flopped down on the bed and before he could even go over it in his mind, he closed his eyes and feel asleep.

Jenny looked down at her wrist, the bow tie still around it. She pulled it free and dropped it down on top of her dress. Kicking off her shoes, she put Tristan’s pyjama top on over her slip and tried the pants on, but they only slid down. She left those with the pile of clothes in front of the mirror that acted as a barricade.

Remembering her mission, she walked back to the desk and looked back at the letter. She picked it up and brought it to a more comfortable spot, undoing the already messy covers of the bed. Sliding in she propped up the pillows and continued reading:

I didn’t know it until I returned home, but I am now the father to a baby boy. I never wanted a child but what’s done is done and now I have to deal with the consequences of my actions. And since I wasn’t home and I wasn’t told about it, Lil named the baby. This is where you come in.

My son’s name is Tristan. Now I have a constant reminder from an unlikely source of my indiscretion. Lil will never know but I will.

She’s fascinated with old tales of King Arthur and it amuses her that my name is Percy. There was a knight named Percival if you recall. You should remember that since your name is in those stories too and I wouldn’t at all be surprised if that’s how you got your unusual name.

Anyway, your detective friend visited my wife. She told him about me and how she was with child and wanted to surprise me when I came home. She said that if she had a girl she would name her Guinevere, to tie in with the theme of King Arthur like my name. You get the idea.

Now isn’t Guin a nice name? But no, she had to have a boy. Before your friend came she said that she had in mind the names Arthur or Lionel. Then your friend suggested Tristan, since he knew of someone named Tristan who was a good friend of his.

Don’t deny it. Tristan is not a common name. If you put him up to it, well played on your part, though I don’t know how you would have known what Lil was planning. Now I shall never forget you as long as I live, as much as I would like to block out all memories of you. You broke up a good thing that I had with Jenny and as much as I knew that things wouldn’t work out between us, I still had hope that one day it would. That is, until you came along and practically ran me out of town.

All that aside, this is a long letter to give to you so I can get my letter to Jenny. Don’t fail me.

— Percy

Jenny read and then reread the letter. Percy a father? Somehow that just didn’t seem right. He was too flighty to be settled down with a wife and child and yet, he claimed he was. And even with that knowledge he still wrote to a farm girl in Darrowby. It wasn’t surprising that she hadn’t heard back. She assumed she never would again, and that would be best for all parties involved.

Jenny’s eyes got heavy as she contemplated all that she found out. Snuggling into the warm covers of the bed, she leaned over to turn off the light from the lamp on the bedside table and then nodded off into a deep sleep.

Chapter Text

While Skeldale House was empty other than Carmody and Jenny exploring their newfound friendship, on Christmas Eve Tristan found himself standing outside in the damp air, the surroundings blurred by darkness of night and a thick blanket of fog. He was at the train station, waiting for the husband of the girl he used to love.

Years before, he never would have thought he would be doing that on Christmas Eve. He wouldn’t have believed that Maggie would have married someone else other than himself, and yet there she was and here he was.

Time had a funny way of changing life, making it full of surprises, some good, some bad. Coming off the train to that very station the day he arrived home from Edinburgh Veterinary College back in 1937, he would never have guessed how his life would drastically change in the next five (almost six) years.

He passed his exams — finally. Made something of himself and found his calling in life being a veterinarian. It became not just a vocation that Siegfried wanted him to do and carry on the family practice, but something he wanted to do himself.

Of course, the war put a detour in Tristan’s life plans. He had signed up to be part of the RAVC, traveled a good deal of the world, saw action he didn’t dare speak about to his family and friends, and rose in ranks to Lieutenant.

Not only had his personal life changed but also his family did. The people Tristan loved most became a part of his family, that which was originally made up of just himself and Siegfried (and Mrs. H, as she was always an honorary member of the family in his mind). What family unit started with the three of them had expanded to include people Tristan felt he knew his whole life instead of just a few years; James, Helen, their son Jimmy, and Richard Carmody. And if Edward Hall was able to come and they would meet, he would be family too.

There were friendships gained and loves lost. Perhaps even a future romance on the horizon to further explore. Tristan knew he wouldn’t trade the experiences of it all for anything in the world. He was happy. In some indescribable way, he was truly happy. The war was far from being over but when he was back in Darrowby and surrounded by his family and close friends, he could push the cares of the world aside and feel at home.

Tristan stole a glance at Maggie, who was eagerly awaiting the delayed train, pacing up and down to steady her anxiety. He loved her still, in a way unexplainable to anyone else but Maggie. She knew his affection for her was not in the romantic sense, but in a close platonic friendship.

When he first met her he didn’t plan for anything beyond a couple of dates — good times with no expectations. But their friendship grew into a burgeoning romance. By the time he was ready for something more, Maggie had already moved on. His maturity had not come fast enough for her. Deep down he knew she was the girl he really loved from the start. He played around with dating other girls, but he wasn’t serious with them the way he was serious about his relationship with Maggie. The irony of it all was she couldn’t see that he was serious about her until it was too late. She married Arthur. It hurt for a while, but like most wounds given time, a broken heart can be mended, and their friendship recovered and grew into the strong bond the two shared.

On Maggie’s walk past Tristan for what must have been the tenth time at least, Tristan gently grabbed Maggie’s arm to stop her. “You’ll wear a hole in the platform,” he said jokingly.

“You’re probably right, or my shoes. It’s hard to get good shoes these days,” Maggie said, looking out in the direction of the tracks for the inbound train. “What’s taking so long?”

“The train was already delayed, the fog must have made it worse. Looking won’t make him come any faster, so let’s sit down, shall we?” Tristan suggested.

Maggie nodded and made her way over to the benches. She sat down and Tristan joined her. She leaned her head back on Tristan’s shoulder and the two sat there quietly. “What are you thinking about?” she asked him.

“You and me,” Tristan said, putting his arm around her and holding her close. “Remember when you told me you were engaged?”

“Four years ago, to the day.”

“The year before that we were kissing under the mistletoe without a thought of Arthur.”

“What do you call all that in the pantry four years ago?” Maggie asked, raising her head from his shoulder to look straight into his eyes.

Tristan chuckled at the reminder. “All right, but that’s different. You were an engaged woman then and still free game. Sort of.”

“So I was a flirt. That’s probably why we got along so well! But even flirts want to settle down eventually. And now what about us?”

“Now you’re married and we’re sitting here waiting for your husband to return, which means we have to behave.” Tristan took her cold hands in his and held them to warm them up. “All these jitters,” he said softly. “You are excited to see him, aren’t you?”

“I am, I just hope he’s excited to see me.” Maggie said, looking up at Tristan. “It’s been so long and we talk through letters when he can get them and send them, but sometimes when all I have is the thought of him, he feels like…”

“A stranger?” Tristan suggested, feeling as though he had heard something similar before being expressed by someone else.

“Sometimes,” admitted Maggie. “The longer he’s been away, the harder it is to remember what he’s like and maybe the war’s changed him and he’s not like what I remember at all.”

“But he might be the same. Look at me, I haven’t changed much, have I?”

“Well…” Maggie said, cracking a smile.

“All right, so don’t look at me. He’s going to be here soon, so you’ll soon see the true Arthur, the man you married and promised to love and cherish.”

“You're right, I worry too much about it. Enough about me. What are you going to do?” Maggie asked. “After you leave me here with Arthur, what’s next for you?”

“I have the love of my life back at home waiting for me,” Tristan said.

“Do you now?” Maggie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Addie,” Tristan clarified. “First time I’ve left her this long without anyone else in the house.”

“Little Lady Adelaide. How did you of all people end up with that cute little poppet?” she asked, getting her mind off of Arthur.

“One of the officers in Doncaster, he would sneak away to go see this maid at a large country estate. When the old lady of the estate died, there were no heirs and no one could take her dog,” Tristan explained. “So he got her from the maid and took it upon us to find her a new home as soon as possible before anyone found out we were hiding a poodle.”

“How long before they knew?”

“Same day,” Tristan laughed. “It‘s hard to hide a dog who barks at anything that moves. We almost got into a lot of trouble, but after making a few deals and promising to keep her with the maid until I’d take Addie home with me to Skeldale in a day or two, it all ended up okay. You know the rest.”

“When I asked you before what was next, I didn’t necessarily mean Addie,” Maggie said, placing her hand inside of Tristan’s jacket and feeling for the small gift box. “You still have it.”

“I couldn’t give it to her in front of everyone.”

“You have my blessing, if that means anything.”

“Blessing for what?” Tristan questioned her.

“To go beyond whatever you’re doing now,” Maggie said, holding the box and looking at the wrapping paper. “You two are in this funny little relationship. I knew it since last summer, that look you gave her. I’ve seen you look at me plenty of times just like that.”

“And look where we’ve ended up,” Tristan pointed out. “Sitting out in the foggy night at the train station waiting for your husband instead of being warm and cozy inside our homes on Christmas Eve.”

“It’s not just that Tris. Your looks of longing didn’t send us here after all these years. It was me. I wanted marriage when you didn’t,” Maggie explained and after pausing, changed the topic back to the prior one, adding, “Jenny only has eyes for you.”

“How do you know? Every time she was at the Drovers we never went together.”

“Because she wasn’t looking at her date — she was looking at you,” Maggie said. “When you were gone last autumn, sometimes she’d come into the Drovers alone. I’d ask her how you were and she’d pretend she didn’t care or didn’t hear from you. But I’d tell her stories about you, and her eyes would light up. She cares a great deal about you.”

Tristan thought back to another late night when he had a conversation about Jenny. Percy mentioned her eyes too, how they’d sparkle with excitement. It wasn’t that Tristan hadn’t noticed, it was that he chose not to.

When Tristan didn’t make a reply to her, Maggie continued, “Tris, you don’t just go buying a present for a girl who likes you if you don’t mean something more. You never bought me anything.”

“I didn’t have the money at the time,” Tristan replied.

“All I’m saying is if you love her, do something!”

“She’s only eighteen, well, she’ll be nineteen next year and I guess that’s close enough since we’re almost in 1943,” Tristan said. “But it probably doesn’t make a difference to her father. He’ll think I’m robbing the cradle. I mean, he might be right — she might need more time to grow up. Right now I feel we’re practically the same when it comes to maturity but what if her tastes change? What if… I’m not what she wants after a while?”

“You’ll know and she’ll know,” Maggie said. “I knew with Arthur when I married him. You’ll know if she’s the right one for you. You’ll feel it inside. You feel it when she’s not with you. It’s like this pit in your stomach, that emptiness. And when she is with you, you get this fast heartbeat that doesn’t stop for anything.”

“You do love him,” Tristan said with a bit of relief in his voice.

“I do. I really do.” Maggie sighed. “I don’t know why I’m nervous about seeing him again when I do love him.”

“It’s probably that same nervous energy brides get on their wedding day,” Tristan teased her.

“Probably,” Maggie said with a smile, putting the small box back inside Tristan’s jacket pocket. “Are you going to give her the gift tomorrow?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe I’ll just anonymously give it to her by leaving it at her house,” Tristan said thoughtfully. “With the family around tomorrow they might think something’s going on between us when it’s really not. And I’m not sure I’m ready to take the next step. How do I know whether or not she’s the one who completes me?”

“You are complete Tristan. You are yourself and you don’t need anyone else to make you complete and who you are. What you are looking for is someone to complement every part of your being and to bring out the best in you. Jenny might be that girl.”

“And if she’s not?”

“You don’t know until you try.”

Tristan pulled Maggie closer. The comfort of a knowing friend, someone who he could open up to, was the most welcome thing he could ask for at that moment. They sat together until the train whistle blew.

“Oh, he’s almost here,” Maggie said, jumping up from her seat. “I haven’t seen him in so long I almost don’t know what to do!”

“Be yourself,” Tristan said, rising from his spot on the bench. “Any man who has a woman like you waiting for him to get home has got to be the luckiest man alive.”

Maggie turned to Tristan and kissed him on his cheek. Noticing his look of surprise, she explained, “That’s for being the best friend anyone could ask for. And that’s probably the last time I’ll do that, since Arthur’s back and Jenny probably wouldn’t like that.”

Tristan grinned and resisted pulling her in for a last hug. The trained chugged along, slowing down as it reached its final stop. The door opened and the single passenger got out. Maggie ran up to him and eagerly greeted him. Tristan slowly backed away into the darkness, leaving the two of them alone for their long-awaited reunion.

He sauntered back to the car, where the Herriots and their sleeping son were waiting. He entered into the backseat and closed the door behind him. “All’s well that ends well. Time to go home,” Tristan whispered so as not to wake up Jimmy.

It was December 25th by the time Tristan arrived home. Everyone else was already back. The thick fog had kept himself and the Herriot family out later than expected, but overall it was a job well done.

He walked up the stairs, trying his best to be quiet, and doing a much better job than he usually did when he returned from a late night at the Drovers. He managed to step around the squeaky stair and opened and closed the door to his room so slowly it barely made any sound at all.

He undid his tie and placed it on top of the dresser, next unbuttoning his shirt collar and pulling his sweater vest off over his head, putting that on top of his tie. He could hear Carmody’s deep breathing from the cupboard and wondered when the young researcher returned from Dobson’s. Richard had said he would try to make an appearance at the Drovers, but perhaps the horse’s leg was in worse shape than they originally thought.

Not wanting to disturb his roommate, Tristan quietly looked inside the dresser drawers for his pyjamas that Mrs. Hall said she washed, folded, and put away. He couldn’t find them in the dark, despite his eyes having started to adjust to the darkness, and tiredness winning out over determination to find it, Tristan gave up and decided that what he had on would suffice. It was only a few short hours before he would have to awaken from sleep anyway.

He went over to the bed and had the feeling that something was strange. He couldn’t put his finger on it but something was different. He had gotten those uneasy feelings when back in Egypt, right before something happened or right after a bad event occurred, and it gave him the eerie sense of something wrong. He tried to shake the uncanny feeling and just get off to sleep. Sitting on the edge of the bed he untied his shoes and placed them down softly.

His bed was mussed but he assumed it was from Carmody forgetting his place. Maybe his roommate had gotten into some of Siegfried’s whisky. After all, it was Christmas Eve. Or it was the day before. Tristan sleepily rubbed his eyes and laid back on the side of the bed.

He still had that feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something was wrong. Rolling over on his back, he stared up at the ceiling though seeing it was almost impossible with the darkness that filled the room. It was a presence that bothered him, like he knew he was in trouble and someone was watching him.

He stretched his left arm out and felt the warmth that comes only from sharing the bed with another person. At first his blood chilled but then he remembered he wasn’t alone. He thought Richard was in the cupboard but that was a biased guess, and since there was someone in his bed, he reasoned that he must have been wrong. As annoying as it was to share his bed, it was much better than the alternative of someone sneaking into his room for reasons unknown. “Richard,” he whispered harshly. “This is my bed, remember?”

When he didn’t get a reply, Tristan propped himself up and leaned over. “Richard,” he said, starting to gently shake his roommate awake. The moment his hand brushed up against hair that fell to his roommate’s shoulders, Tristan realized it was not Richard at all. He quickly pulled back the covers and at his discovery, exclaimed, “Oh good god!” and leapt out of bed.

Chapter Text

With so many questions bouncing around in his head, Tristan could hardly think what to do first. He fumbled around in the dark for the lamp, knocking over a picture frame in the process, and upon getting a hold of the lamp, he turned on the light. His eyes had to adjust to the sudden brightness in the room and he blinked from the glare of the lamplight.

Of all the people he’d expect to find in his room, Jenny would probably be the last person who came to mind. But there she was, sleeping soundly in his bed, undisturbed neither by the light nor the clamor of a falling picture frame. How she ended up there, he hadn’t the faintest idea. Last time he saw her she was at the Drovers with both the farmers and townspeople of Darrowby, which included both her father and sister, who Tristan assumed were keeping a watchful eye on her, seeing as they were what he considered over cautious in their moderation of her drinking. He wondered how she managed to slip away without them noticing and even more curiously, how she ended up sharing his room with Carmody.

Tristan quickly took a survey of the room, seeing what damage had been done in his absence. His room was not ever the tidiest, but this was worse than what even he could have done.

A few pieces of furniture had been slid around to different spots, his personal papers scattered on the desk with one or two stray papers lying on the ground, and a pile of clothes lay in a heap in front of the mirror that was moved to partially block the cupboard. Tristan walked over to the clothes and picked up his missing pyjama pants. The realization dawning on him, he looked over to the bed. It seemed Jenny had not only stolen his bed, but also his pyjamas — or at least half of them.

She couldn’t stay in his room all night; that would create too much talk, even among the Skeldale family, who would hopefully give her the benefit of the doubt. His mind was already jumping to the conclusion that Jenny and Carmody were more than just friends. He had never thought that Richard Carmody, practically the opposite of Jenny, would have gotten her into such a moral mess. Tristan couldn’t help but wonder if he had stayed to talk with her at the Drovers, if he had spent more time with her instead of allowing others to take up all his time, would Jenny then be in his bedroom at Skeldale or safe in her bed at Heston Grange?

Tristan crossed the room back to his bed and gazed at Jenny, who was beautifully peaceful in her sleeping state. She had an appearance of innocence that was only tainted by Tristan’s mind. He reached out to touch her to shake her awake when a tap on his door made him jump. He hesitantly left Jenny and went to the door. “Who is it?” he whispered, not opening up the door in fear of someone noticing his uninvited guest.

“It’s just me Tris,” James said on the other side. “I was wondering if you could give me a hand with bringing in one of Jimmy’s presents from the shed.”

“I uh…” Tristan stammered, looking back at Jenny who still had not moved from her position. “Sure, I’ll be right there,” he agreed, deciding if he acted like he normally did, then there would be less suspicions raised. He went back to the foot of the bed and grabbed his jacket that he laid across the end of it. He noticed Jenny’s foot peeking out from under the sheets and crumpled quilt and he pulled the covers down over it.

Placing his jacket back on and slipping into his shoes that he left at the side of his bed, he next opened the door just enough so he could slip out and then followed James down the stairs and out to the shed.

“Are you alright?” James asked as he opened the door to their shed, shining the light of the torch in so they could see.

“Me? I’m fine,” Tristan said, placing a smile on his face to prove it to James and to himself. The mask of the happy carefree Tristan was working again.

James stepped in and took the blanket off of Jimmy’s gift of a carved wooden rocking horse. “You just seem… quieter than normal,” he said, folding the blanket and putting it on the old sofa.

“I’m trying not to wake anyone,” Tristan whispered, picking up the rocking horse and carrying it outside as James held open the door for him.

“If you’re worried about something, it’s okay to talk about it, if you feel like it,” James offered, quietly closing the shed door and walking ahead of Tristan to the back door of Skeldale.

Tristan shook his head. “Why should I be worried?”

“About Maggie, maybe?” James said hesitantly. He was never good at guessing Tristan’s moods and reasons for them, and though he had a hunch, after saying it, he felt slightly ridiculous for doing so.

“Maggie will be fine. She’s got Arthur now. She doesn’t need me,” Tristan said, looking up at the second floor of Skeldale. He wondered if Jenny was awake yet, and if she was, if she would still be in his room when he got back. Somehow it felt as if he were in a dream; that in actuality Jenny was home at Heston Grange, and that he was only imagining that he saw her in his bedroom. If only things were that simple.

“Glad to hear it,” James said quietly, happy to drop the subject as quickly as he had brought it up.

The two men brought the rocking horse in and placed it down in the sitting room. After positioning it in its proper place near the tree, Tristan grabbed the torch from James as his eye caught the glimpse of an empty wine glass on the floor. “Watch out,” he cautioned James before he knocked it over.

James looked down at the glass and then around the room as Tristan surveyed it with the light of the torch. Up on the couch, Hamish and Addie were curled up together and sleeping away, despite both dogs knowing they technically weren’t allowed on the couch without permission (even though that rule had long gone by the wayside when it came to Dash). On the ground various playing cards were scattered about and there was not just one empty wine glass, but two.

“You don’t think…” James started before stopping himself.

“What?” Tristan asked suspiciously.

“It’s stupid, never mind.”

“What?” Tristan pressed, wanting to know how much James knew or at least what he was guessing what happened with who that night.

“You don’t think Siegfried and Mrs. Hall did this?” James finally said.

“We could only hope,” Tristan said with a shake of his head.

James looked at Tristan with a confused expression on his face. “Hope for what?”

“I meant… oh, skip it,” Tristan said with a sigh. “We could either get to sleep or just sit up and wait for morning to open all our presents.”

“Helen’s waiting for me to get to bed,” James said, remembering then how late it was and also how tired he felt.

“Bed it is then,” Tristan agreed, though his phrasing only reminded him of the interloper in his bed. As annoying as it was to have to deal with straightening out a sticky situation (one that he wasn’t directly involved with for once) he did care a great deal about both people involved and would do anything in his power to protect either one of them. Any incriminating evidence would have to be hidden. If James thought that it was Siegfried and Mrs. Hall who had the rendezvous, so be it. They needed a push in their relationship anyway. “Actually, it might be embarrassing for them if one of us came down and saw what they did. You straighten and put away the cards and I’ll bring the empty bottle and glasses up to my room so I can clean them and put them away tomorrow.”

“If they see everything moved, won’t they know someone’s been here?” James asked.

“They might not remember tomorrow what they did tonight,” Tristan said with a laugh in his voice, though inside he was dreading what his findings would be in the morning. Part of him was dying to know what had happened that Jenny had gotten herself into that situation, and with Carmody of all people.

After the two had tidied up, they went up the stairs quietly. “Night Jim,” Tristan whispered, opening up the door to his bedroom a little too much.

“Good ni- Tris?” James said, looking past Tristan into the illuminated room. “Is there a girl in your bed?”

Tristan looked behind him and quickly closed the door, creating more noise than he intended to as the wine glasses in his one hand clanked against each other and the door to the bedroom. He had to act and think fast to cover over this one or he (and Jenny) would never live it down. His unwavering determination to protect her was still as strong as it ever was. “No, of course not! If there was a girl in my bed, I wouldn’t be spending the evening with you, would I?”

“Well, I guess not, but I thought I saw a girl.”

“You sure you’re feeling well?” Tristan asked, placing his free hand on James’ forehead. “You do feel a bit feverish.”

James grabbed Tristan’s hand and moved it away from his head. “I’m not feverish! I know what I saw!” he said, getting louder than a whisper as he tried to defend himself.

“I don’t know Jim, you feel like you’re warm.”

Soon the door from across the hall opened up and Siegfried appeared, looking quite rumpled from being disturbed from his sleep. “What is going on?” he grumbled.

“Nothing Siegfried! Nothing at all,” Tristan said with a sheepish grin. He hid the wine glasses and bottle behind his back and leaned against the wall.

“I thought I saw someone in Tristan’s room,” James said.

Tristan looked over in shock at James, who had ratted out on him. He thought he could trust his best friend with secrets but obviously not anymore. It was part of their ‘Surviving Siegfried’ pact, and James had just broken it.

Thankfully, Siegfried didn’t seem bothered. “Yes, well. James, that’s just Richard. You remember he’s staying with us,” he said, turning back to go to his room.

“I thought it was a girl,” James muttered.

Siegfried turned to look back at James and then over at Tristan who tried his best to hide his uncomfortableness. “Tristan…”

“Brucellosis,” Tristan blurted out quickly. “It’s another bout of it. I told him he was going into a state of delirium and he’s overtired, like all of us,” Tristan then started pushing James forward to the door leading to the bedsit.

“Shall we take your temperature James?” Siegfried asked.

“I’m fine!” James said defensively, stepping away from Tristan’s shoving. “I haven’t had a bout of brucellosis in over a year!”

Tristan felt he was starting to lose his argument. “Like I said to Jim earlier, if there was a girl in my room, why would I have spent all night at the train station with Maggie and now out here in the hall arguing with you? And Richard’s there, he definitely wouldn’t put up with a woman in his room.”

Siegfried was too tired to really care anymore and he certainly didn’t feel like going back and forth in a debate with his brother and James. For once it was easier to just agree with Tristan. “Point taken, good night Tristan. Good night James. If you two can be quiet, maybe we all can get some much needed sleep.” Siegfried retreated to his room and closed the door.

After the door clicked shut, Tristan shot James a glare. “What was all that about?”

“I thought — I know I saw — maybe it was just Richard,” James sighed in defeat.

“Get some sleep,” Tristan said, patting James on the back. “You need it.”

“See you in the morning,” James said.

“You mean in a few hours,” Tris said with a roll of his eyes. He waited until James left and with a quick glance around to make sure no one else was there and watching, he entered his room, which was still lit up from when he turned on the lamp earlier.

He placed the two wine glasses and the bottle down on the dresser and looked over at his bed. Jenny was still there, sleeping it off it seemed. When morning came, he wondered if she would even remember what she had done.

Tristan hated to wake her but she couldn’t sleep in his bed. She had to get home before anyone else noticed she was there and before her father noticed her absence at home. He leaned over her and shook her arm. “Jenny,” he whispered. “Time to wake up. Jenny!”

Jenny only slightly stirred in her sleep but made no motion of actually waking up. As much as he needed to wake her up and get her to leave, he didn’t have the heart to disrupt her peaceful sleep any further. Tristan sighed in defeat. He walked over to the desk and grabbed the chair, pulling it over to the side of the bed. He sat back in it and after taking off his shoes yet again, placed his feet up on the foot of the bed, crossing his legs and leaning back on the chair. It wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep (or even sit) but it would do for the few remaining hours of night.

Tristan noticed that in his effort to wake Jenny up, the blanket on top of her had started to slip down, leaving her arm uncovered. Ever so gently so as not to disturb her, he pulled the blanket up to her face and then brushed back her hair that had started to fall in her eyes. Afterward he tucked the edge of the blanket in under the mattress to keep it in place, feeling satisfied that she would be comfortable for the rest of the night.

He leaned back in the chair and for a while before he turned off the light, he just watched her silent breathing as she slept. There were still a lot of unanswered questions that he had, none of which he liked the obvious answer to. What had she done that night? Would Carmody do the honorable thing? And if he did, would that mean an end to their friendship and whatever else might have occurred?

His eyes grew ever heavier as the night went on and soon, though unwillingly, he succumbed to sleep.

Chapter Text

That night, Tristan dreamt he was back in Cairo again. It was a similar dream to what haunted him in the past; the kind of dream where he knew the outcome as soon as it started, but could do nothing to break free. It was as if watching something fragile fall to the ground and shatter upon impact while his hands were tied. The dreams had slowly become more infrequent, but they would still sometimes reoccur and his only hope was to be able to break himself out from his nightmare.

The sand dunes stretched out before him. This was no city but a barren area of desert, the ground covered only with sand and the blue sky stretched out above, the scorching sun beating against his skin. He felt the sweat on his forehead and reached up to wipe his brow.

There was a camel behind him. Laila, his faithful companion. He was leading her somewhere. Where was he going exactly? It must be the same place he was always going to, but he never knew the exact location, other than the fact that he had to get there, to try and arrive and break the repetitive spell of setting out only to never accomplish his mission.

Suddenly a figure appeared, running up alongside him on a horse, sand kicked up behind it. “Farnon, come quick!” a demanding voice boomed.

“What happened?” Tristan asked, squinting from the sun in his eyes as he looked up at the officer. The voice was familiar but he was too blinded by the light to see who it was.

“Snake bite victim,” the officer said breathlessly. “You’re the only one with the antivenom. You’ve taken the last bit with you and left us with none. Make haste before it’s too late!”

The horse and officer turned and left Tristan and his camel in their cloud of dust and sand. Without another hesitation, Tristan got onto the camel and hurriedly started making his way back to the camp, thinking how he cowardly and selfishly stole the last of the antivenom in case he needed it on his mission.

The mumbled sound of distress caused Jenny to start to awaken from her deep slumber. She flipped onto her back and barely opened her eyes. The room was still dark. She didn’t know what time it was and thinking further, didn’t remember exactly where she was.

These thoughts hardly disturbed her as the bed was comfortable and the blankets warm. She closed her eyes again and drifted back off to sleep, unaware of the disturbing dream one of her roommates was having. In fact, she was wholly unaware of the additional roommate.

”In here Farnon.” The flap to a tent was opened and Tristan stepped inside. This was a familiar scene. He had seen this many times in dreams past but couldn’t stop it before and he knew he couldn’t stop it again. He wanted a different outcome, and so he would try.

On the floor a solider lay dying from a snake bite, the excruciating pain sending tremors and convulsions through his body. However this time, the soldier was not some general man. It was someone he knew.

“Richard Carmody!” Tristan exclaimed as he got closer, holding the vile of antivenom in hand. “No, it can’t be you! You were in London! You’re no solider!”

“Vile, quickly!” Another officer shouted above his head.

Tristan’s hands were shaking as he unscrewed the lid to the jar and filled a shot of the medicine.

“I was in London, but I joined a tank regiment,” Richard said in between gasps of breath.

“How? Why?” Tristan asked, as he cleaned the wound, but got no response. “Richard, talk to me!”

Jenny opened up her eyes and stared at the ceiling. The realization of where she was and who she was with was starting to dawn on her. She tried propping herself up, but the ache that throbbed in her head served as a reminder of some of the events of the night before, and she laid back down. She couldn’t remember everything yet, but she knew she had made a mess of things. How would she explain how she spent the night at Skeldale — in Tristan’s bedroom? She thought of getting up out of his bed but it was much too comfy to do anything about her situation then. What she had done was done and she would worry about it in the morning.

Richard closed his eyes as he could barely keep them open any longer. ”It was my father-in-law, he never did care for me. He didn’t want me married to his daughter so he said I needed to serve my country to make her proud of me. So I could be worthy of her,” he explained.

“You’re married?” Tristan said in surprise.

Richard winced at the pain as he waited for the antivenom to be administered. “I married Jenny Alderson. Helen’s sister. I have a child too. A little girl… she named her Trista, after you. She said you wanted it that way. Tell me, am I dying?”

“We won’t let that happen,” Tristan said, tears filling his eyes as he placed his hand reassuringly on Carmody’s shoulder. He sounded confident despite knowing that in all the times past, the victim had never survived; something had always happened. He had to try and save Richard. He thought of what Jenny would say if he didn’t even try. How heartbroken she would be. Little Trista would never know her father. And for some strange reason he felt a swell of pride in his heart — did Jenny really remember their letters where he teased her about naming a child after himself? He had to make sure Richard was saved. He had to.

The shot was now ready to be given. Tristan flicked the remaining air bubbles out and got ready to give it when the inevitable happened. The officer who had been hovering around knocked it out of his hand and it fell to the ground, breaking and losing the lifesaving antidote. “No, no, no,” Tristan cried, trying to save the remaining drops.

“Sorry about that,” a smooth talking voice said, seemingly uncaring and cool despite the dire circumstances.

“Percy Caldwell!” Tristan exclaimed in disgust.

Percy dropped his cigarette on the floor where the remaining drops of antivenom were and ground it down with the heel of his shoe. “I knew we’d meet again,” he said, unimpressed by Tristan’s efforts. “Sorry Tristan, but it had to be done. He married the only girl I really loved and with him in the picture, there was no room left for me.”

Tristan stood in shock as he looked at Percy and then Richard, who was gasping for his life. “Richard, don’t leave us!”

“It’s too late…” Richard said quietly, in between wheezes. “Tristan… promise me… you’ll care for her… and my daughter…”

“I promise,” Tristan cried, holding onto Richard’s hand until the grip lightened. Richard’s hand lay limp in Tristan’s. “You killed him,” he angrily said as he turned toward Percy. “You’ll pay for this! I’ll report you to the authorities, I’ll - I’ll -“

“You can’t prove that I killed him,” Percy said, lighting up another cigarette and blowing the smoke in Tristan’s face, causing him to choke and cough. “It was an accident.”

Tristan glared at Percy. “That wasn’t an accident, you purposefully knocked it out of my hand!”

”It fell,” Percy said, glaring back at Tristan as if they were in some sort of stand off. “It fell because you dropped it.”

”How did you know about the snake bite in the first place?” Tristan asked.

”I was there when it happened,” Percy said, flicking some ashes onto the ground.

Realization hit Tristan hard. “You did it. You put him in that situation, just like you’ve endangered lives of your fellow soldiers before,” he exclaimed angrily.

”I couldn’t very well let the snake bite me. You know a lot Farnon, too much for your own good,” Percy said evilly. “Sorry Tristan, but you’ve had your chance. You’ve lived a good life. If you kept your nose out of other people’s — ahem, affairs — you might have been around longer. But it’s a little late for you to reconsider your deeds. I always said let the best man win. So I had to win. Simple as that. Now with both you and that Carmody fellow out of the way, I can have my own way for a change. Jenny’s mine. If you were wondering what kind of snake bit your friend there, look behind you. It’s your turn next.”

A sharp cry coming from next to the bed snapped Jenny out of her thoughts and back into reality. She sat up and looked around, her eyes having adjusted to the darkness in the room, silhouettes of shapes barely outlined from the hall light forgetfully left on through the crack of the bedroom door. She now saw that she was not alone with Carmody like she originally thought. Tristan must have come home at some point and since she had taken his bed he fell asleep in an uncomfortable chair next to the bed. Though she wondered what had happened while she was sleeping, her main concern was Tristan. He was tossing around in his sleep, the cry before only a precursor to more that followed as he was apparently dreaming — enduring what must have been a terrible nightmare.

Her headache all forgotten, she threw off the covers and leaned over to Tristan. “Tris, Tris, wake up!” she said, putting her hand on his shoulder and trying to shake him awake. At his unresponsiveness, she shook him harder.

”Caldwell, don’t leave me here!” Tristan cried out as the snake, which had been coiled in the corner and unnoticed before, was now slithering closer. “No, not again!” He backed against the wall of the tent which he somehow could not get out of. He searched for an opening, an exit of some sort, where he could at least have a fighting chance, but there was none. Terror set in, and panic-stricken, he closed his eyes, knowing what was sure to happen next.

He had made a promise to his late friend Carmody that he would take care of his wife and daughter — Jenny and her young child. Now he would not be able to keep his word, and even worse, Jenny would be swept away to London by the villainous Percy Caldwell. Somehow the dread of the snake was topped by his fear of never living to see Jenny again.

Suddenly a familiar feminine voice came out of nowhere. “Tris, you’re safe, I’m here with you.”

“Jenny!” he called for her. A way out of the tent miraculously opened and he ran to the exit and into her arms, clutching her closely. “Jenny!”

The sound of Tristan calling out her name while he was still obviously dreaming scared Jenny enough to want to get help. But she couldn’t leave him.

Tristan, moving about in his nightmarish daze, turned to the side and promptly fell out of the chair he was sleeping in, landing on the ground with a thud. Jenny slid out of bed, taking with her the quilt and bedsheets that were tangled around her legs. Down on the ground next to him, propping him up as he woke up, she reassured him, “Tris, you’re all right, I’ve got you.” She laid her head on his chest and embraced him, holding him close like she was comforting a child who was scared of a thunderstorm.

And so Tristan found himself not only dreaming that he held Jenny in his arms, but that she really was in his arms. She was no dream or mirage, she was real. She was there. She was holding him like she never wanted to let go. He didn’t want her to let go. His pounding heart and deep fast breathing slowed back to normal as he looked around the room, making sure nothing else had carried over from his dream. Once confirming in his mind that he was home in his room and not in the desert of Egypt, he protectively wrapped his arms around Jenny’s waist. “Don’t leave,” he mumbled.

“I’m here. It’s gonna be okay,” she reassured him, running a hand through his hair, dampened now with sweat.

The darkness covered Tristan’s tear stained cheeks. He buried his head into Jenny’s neck, breathing in the welcoming scent of her hair that laid around her shoulders. In his moment of terror, all pretenses fell away.

“Tris,” Jenny whispered, leaning into his embrace. Suddenly she felt like she didn’t need words anymore to express herself.

At her utterance of his name, Tristan raised his head slightly so they were eye to eye, their foreheads touching accidentally at first, but then cautiously and lovingly pressing his forehead against hers as she didn’t pull away from his touch. He knew he shouldn’t go further. There was a line that he shouldn’t cross and he wouldn’t. It took all he had not to kiss her. Never before had they been so close. No one would have seen. No one would have to know. But Tristan reluctantly moved his head away from hers and refrained, if only for not taking advantage of the vulnerability of them both.

Closing his eyes, he pulled her closer to him, gently resting his head on top of hers, his hands sliding up her back and his fingers finding and entwining with her hair. “I dreamt I lost you,” he whispered in her ear.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” Jenny said softly, laying her head on his chest.

“I know this is wrong,” he muttered as he nuzzled her hair.

“Why does it have to be wrong when it feels right?” she asked.

“We’re here in my room in the dead of night with Carmody in the cupboard and you’re making me want to do things we’d both regret,” he said under his breath.

“Then just hold me close, it’s enough,” Jenny whispered. Her head felt clearer than it had before and in Tristan’s arms, she wondered if it was herself who was in a dream.

He had mentioned Carmody and in their moment of a passion she had never experienced before, Jenny had almost forgotten about all that happened hours earlier. Whatever had happened between herself and Richard Carmody she would sort in the morning. Right then, her main concern was Tristan. She wasn’t going to let him go. He wanted her and how could she refuse when what she had dreamt of for so long was coming true and was no longer a dream but a reality?

Tristan leaned back against the bed frame, Jenny secured in his arms. If word got out about the two of them spending the night together in each others arms in his bedroom, it would be the talk of Darrowby. Maggie had approved of a relationship between them but even she surely didn’t picture this situation. He then wondered what Carmody would do when he woke up. The wine had knocked him into a deep sleep, something for which Tristan was grateful for.

It was then that Tristan realized what he truly wanted. He wanted a future built not on having a few chapters in his life with Jenny but to have a lifetime with her that could not be described in a whole series of books. He wished for more than just moments with her; he wanted shared tomorrows and years.

The truth would eventually have to come out, and he did want to know what happened earlier that evening in everyone’s absence. Now was not the time to ask, and so he held her a little bit closer, comforted by their shared silence and thankful he could have her all to himself, if only for the few remaining hours of night. That moment would have to be enough.

Chapter Text

Tristan continued holding Jenny into the wee hours of the morning. She had nodded back off to sleep, and as he held her close, soothed by the steadiness of the rise and fall from her breaths, he couldn’t help but wonder what happened the night before. More important, he kept playing out different scenes in his head as to how he would help her out of the situation she had gotten herself into.

He might not be able to save her from all consequences, but he would do what he could. Their sleeping situation surely not approved by anyone else in the house, their best option was to get Jenny to leave before anyone else awoke, and continue the day on as normal. That however, was easier said than done.

Tristan lightly rested his chin on top of Jenny’s head. “It’s Christmas morning Jenny,” he whispered, moving his hand over her arm. “Time to wake up.”

Jenny slowly opened her eyes and looked up at Tristan. She didn’t realize she had drifted back off to sleep, and in Tristan’s arms of all places. She blinked and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. “Hello,” she said sleepily.

“Hello,” Tristan said with a smile, despite the circumstances.

The events of the night before were starting to come back to Jenny, now that time had passed and Tristan’s crisis was over. She looked around the room, still dark due to the blackout shades covering the windows. As much as she could have stayed in his arms forever, she knew she had to go. Unwillingly, she moved away from Tristan, the air cold against her bare legs and feet. “What time is it?” she asked.

Tristan looked down at his wristwatch but was unable to make out the time. “It’s got to be morning by now,” he replied, standing up and stretching. His back was sore from leaning against the bed frame for so long and his legs felt stiff from being in the same position for such an extended period of time. Once Jenny fell asleep, he didn’t want to move her, and considering he was her pillow of sorts, it meant he had to stay still. After she had supported him with the aftermath of his nightmare, it seemed a small repayment.

Jenny moved over to the window and opened up the curtain. The light of day now coming through the window, Tristan looked again at his watch. “Six. Actually, 6:10 to be exact.”

Tristan looked back up at Jenny, her figure now visible in the light. He hadn’t been able to appreciate the full beauty of her pieced together sleeping ensemble, made up only of his pyjama top and a short slip, showing off her legs that were normally hidden behind trousers, dungarees, or on the rare occasion, a modest skirt. If he had known what lay hidden beneath, he wasn’t sure he would have been able to resist Jenny earlier that night.

Jenny looked over at Tristan, who was speechlessly staring back at her. “It’s like you’ve never seen a woman before,” she commented, undeterred by her own lack of modesty. She felt she should have had some reaction to his staring at her indecency, but she had no shame, no sudden urge to remove herself from his sight. It felt natural, and that natural complacent feeling unnerved her more than anything else.

“I, uh, sorry,” Tristan said, suddenly turning away and fixating his gaze on the closed bedroom door. “We’ve got to get you out of here,” he said, changing the subject.

Jenny looked out the window again and down at the empty streets of Darrowby. She often wondered what the view was like from his room, what shops he had view of and who he could see coming and going.

“For God’s sake Jenny, get out of the window,” he said, pulling her back as he remembered where she was.

Jenny looked up at him and smirked. “Afraid I’ll tarnish your perfect reputation?”

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” Tristan said seriously. “You can be in big trouble. What the hell were you doing with Richard last night?”

Jenny thought back and though the memories were hazier than she would like to admit, she knew they did no wrong. “What does it matter to you?”

“It matters a lot to me. I worry about—“ Tristan said, stopping mid-sentence. “I worry about what went on in this house without anyone else here. What did you do?”

“We didn’t do much. Played cards, talked.”

“Drank wine,” Tristan said, motioning to the empty wine glasses on the dresser. “What exactly did you talk about?”

“Lots of things. We started talking about horses. Navicular syndrome for one,” she stated.

“Typical Carmody,” Tristan muttered.

Jenny gave a half-hearted shrug. She didn’t mind the conversation. “We talked about friendships,” she continued, “Pair bonds he called it.”

“Oh now we’re getting somewhere,” Tristan said with a sigh of exasperation.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jenny countered.

Tristan rolled his eyes. “Come now Jenny, of all people I wouldn’t think I’d have to explain it to you. Richard may have his head in a book most of the time but he is a man. He has feelings. And look at yourself. How could he resist someone like you?”

“You think I’d just go throw meself at any man who comes me way?” Jenny asked, getting more fiery as their conversation progressed.

“For all I know, you might have gotten pregnant last night and where does that leave you?” Tristan blurted out, but as soon as the words escaped his mouth, he wished he could take them back when he saw Jenny’s face of disbelief. She looked like he had just betrayed her.

The dead silence that followed was accompanied by a stare off. Neither Jenny nor Tristan could believe the words that were uttered in a flash of passion.

“Look at the evidence,” Tristan said in a calmer tone of voice, walking over to the pile of clothes on the ground. “What am I to think?” he said as he picked up both Richard’s bow tie and Jenny’s torn dress. “If you were me, what would you think seeing all this?”

Jenny marched over and forcefully grabbed her dress from his grasp. “I’ll thank you to mind your own business. I can take care of meself.”

“I’m your friend Jenny, you can talk to me. About anything…” Tristan said, regretting his outburst and wishing she would open up to him.

Jenny glanced over at the bed and the crumpled up letter she had read the night before. That she remembered clearly. She wasn’t as upset when reading it, but with Tristan’s insinuations, her reserved anger reared its head. “I can talk to you, but you really don’t care about me. You don’t care if me feelings get hurt. You don’t care if I’m running around with a married man. He offered to take me to London with him. I could’ve gone and not known till I got there. And you knew, you probably knew the whole time, didn’t you? You didn’t tell me!”

Her eyes stung as she looked at him, tears starting to cloud her vision. She took a deep breath to steady her voice. “I shouldn’t expect any better from you,” she continued in a low tone of voice. “You were with Maggie all last night. You don’t care about the sanctity of marriage or morals or principles. You don’t care if someone else gets hurt. You just want to save your own face so let me take care of meself and you leave me alone!”

Tristan paled at her words. Jenny had brushed by so many sensitive topics, things on which he wanted to defend himself, and others that he could accuse her of. Part of him wanted to fight back, but he wouldn’t. He instead saw the girl who held him hours earlier, who saw him through the recovery of a nightmare and who held him close and reassured him he wasn’t alone, that he was going to be okay. He had repaid her kindness with accusations, and the hurtful words she shot at him were well deserved. Like a wild animal being cornered, he realized she was only lashing out to defend herself and her hurt feelings. Tristan stepped closer to her and gently took her by her arms. “Someone’s going to hear you,” he said quietly.

“I don’t care. Because if you don’t believe what I said that I didn’t get knocked up by Richard, then who else is?” she whispered in a harsh, angry tone.

“I want to believe you,” Tristan started.

“Then why don’t you?” Jenny asked, looking up at him with tears welling up in her eyes.

“I do,” Tristan said, pulling Jenny in for a hug. “I do believe you,” he continued, his voice now more muffled as he spoke while nuzzling her hair. “I know you wouldn’t lie to me. If you honestly believe you did nothing of that sort, I believe you.”

Jenny buried her face against Tristan, keeping her head down and hidden as the tears she held back were now flowing freely down her cheeks. She hadn’t felt bad about the night she had with Richard, but the fact that Tristan felt she had taken that newfound friendship a step too far had hurt her feelings and pierced her soul. Tristan might never have thought much about his own opinions or given much thought on if his point of view mattered to others — in fact, his self-confidence was always tainted with the question if he was living up to what others expected of him. He didn’t know that to Jenny, what he thought mattered most to her. He didn’t realize the powerful effect his words had on her.

When Tristan told her that he believed her, there was nothing more Jenny wanted than to accept that. They were only words, but that was all he had to mend the rift, to heal the wound. It was all that was needed. If he believed her, there was a chance that everyone else would too. At the realization her tears had slowly stopped, and the crushing hurt feeling inside subsided, Jenny pulled back from Tristan, touched that he was willing to hold her close until she was ready to leave his embrace. She sniffled and looked over at the cupboard. “You think he heard?” she asked, suddenly remembering they weren’t alone.

Tristan looked down at Jenny, gently moving his hand to wipe away the remaining tears on her face. “I’ll check,” he whispered.

He poked his head around the mirror that had acted as a barricade and looked in at the young man who apparently had passed out on top of the bed without even turning it down. “Still sleeping it off,” Tristan reported.

Jenny tiptoed over and peeked around the corner to see. “Poor thing,” she said sadly, feeling the same motherly instincts as she did the night before. “There’s times I wish I could hold him close and—“ she said, stopping before she got further, realizing then that expressing her feelings about Richard could be incriminating for being partners with him in a love affair they didn’t have.

“Kiss him?” Tristan suggested wryly. “It’s only natural,” he said quickly, smoothing over another remark he realized he should have kept to himself instead of vocalizing his thoughts. “He’s a young man who gave attention to you and you are beautiful. Genuinely. I mean that.”

Jenny took her gaze off of Richard and focused on Tristan. She could have gotten upset at him again but what he said was more surprising than upsetting. Surprising in a pleasant and almost exhilarating way. She wasn’t the kind of girl who paid much attention to her appearance or to fancy clothes or the latest styles. She’d be happy in a shirt and trousers for the rest of her life if she had her way. But to think that Tristan found her beautiful, perhaps not glamorous or elegant like the movie stars he loved to draw, but beautiful enough for him to express it and feel that other men might find her pretty too; that was more than what she could take right then and it took her a moment to find her words.

“I didn’t mean kiss him,” Jenny finally said. “I meant just to hold him close like he were a little boy and say everything’s going to be all right. You and me had it good. We might both have lost our mums when we were young, but at least we know that they loved us until the end. Richard has a mum out there but she don’t really care about what he’s doing. It’s sad when you think about it. He’s all alone except for us. He’s a friend Tris, not me boyfriend or a secret lover, but a good friend. I won’t give that friendship up for anything, no matter what anyone’s going to think about us going forward.”

“You’re a good friend Jenny,” Tristan said as he wrapped his arm around her waist and directed her a few steps away from the cupboard. Glancing at his watch yet again, he sighed. Their time together would soon have to come to an end. “We’ve got to get you home. We’re running out of time as it is. Once everyone wakes up there will be no way you’re getting out of here without someone noticing.”

Chapter Text

Jenny knew Tristan was right. Their time together was limited and her chance to leave Skeldale unnoticed was fleeting. She looked down at her dress that she had tossed back on the ground. Picking it up, her fingers touching the torn side seam, upon further examination her situation seemed almost hopeless. There wasn’t a way to mend it quickly, and to leave in what she was currently wearing was not an option.

“You can’t wear that,” Tristan said softly, catching her gaze at her dress.

That much was obvious to her, but she really had no other choice. ”You want me to walk through town looking like this?” Jenny asked, glancing at herself in the mirror.

“No, but there’s got to be something better.”

“Like what?”

Tristan went through his dresser drawer and pulled out a folded up light blue dress shirt. “Here,” he said, shoving it toward her.

Jenny grabbed the shirt from him and unfolded it, holding it up. If it was anything like his pyjama top, it would be large, but it would do the job temporarily. However, that would only fix half the problem. “Tops may fit but your trousers certainly aren’t going to,” she said. “If you haven’t noticed, your waistline’s bigger than mine.”

“He’s just a bit slimmer than me, but it might work,” Tristan muttered as he took Carmody’s travel case and opened it up, pulling out a pair of gray trousers. “Try these,” he offered her.

“I’m not wearing his trousers,” Jenny refused, looking skeptically at them.

“You take my clothes just fine,” he pointed out, referring to what she had on and the shirt he just gave her that she took without any hesitation.

“It’s different. I know you better,” she explained simply.

“After you spent all night with him?” Tristan said pointedly.

“I slept in your bed and then fell asleep in your arms, I’d like you to remember,” Jenny said. Tristan didn’t say anything but instead held out the trousers for her to grab. After a moment of deliberation, she took them and held them up to her waist. With a defeated shrug and half-hearted smile, she decided to try them on after all, as she really didn’t have another option.

Without saying a word, Tristan turned his back as Jenny slipped one leg into Richard’s trousers.

“You don’t have to be so modest. I doubt I have much decency left anyway,” Jenny said with a sigh, looking down at her dress with the split seam. She took off the pyjama top and tossed it to Tristan, who still had his back to her and therefore didn’t see it coming. It hit him on the back of his head and he turned with a smirk as he threw it over his shoulder and onto the bed. Meanwhile Jenny pulled on the blue dress shirt and tucked it into the trousers, which had started to slip down.

Tristan turned back around and saw Jenny holding up the trousers so they wouldn’t slide down too far. Thinking of yet another solution, he pulled out one of his neckties and gave that to her. “A belt, to hold those up.”

Jenny fed the tie through the belt loops and tied it into a tight knot. She then cuffed up the trousers and, satisfied overall, she at least could go home with something on she needn’t be ashamed of wearing.

“Where’s your coat? The grey one you were wearing last night?” Tristan asked, glancing around the room in search of it.

Jenny looked at Tristan, a little surprised he had remembered what she wore when she popped into Skeldale before heading to the Drovers. Maybe his attention wasn’t completely on Maggie after all like she originally thought. She did wonder where she put her coat though. It was what got her into the situation she found herself in. If she hadn’t left it, she wouldn’t have come back to Skeldale and Carmody wouldn’t have found her alone. They wouldn’t have talked for hours, culminating in hiding from everyone else in Tristan’s bedroom. Jenny was truly amazed at how one event could spiral into such a mess. “It must still be downstairs,” she said with dawning realization.

“Fine, we’ll get it on the way out,” Tristan said, taking Jenny by her hand and bringing her to the bedroom door. “You can take my bike so you can get home by yourself. I’ll lead you out to the shed but I’ll make sure no one’s out here first.”

The bedroom door opened and creaked, the sound that was so quiet in the daytime magnified multiple times during the early hours of the morning when the house was still. Tristan slowly moved into the hall, glad to not see anyone about. He motioned for Jenny to follow him and they went down the stairs, picked up her coat from its spot in the sitting room, wound through the halls, and stopped before entering the kitchen.

The sound of dishes rattling inside, albeit quietly, was enough to alert the two of them that they were not the only ones awake in Skeldale House. Tristan waved Jenny back behind him and he discreetly closed the door to the hall as he stepped into the kitchen. “Good morning and Merry Christmas Mrs. H,” he greeted her as she stepped out of the pantry.

“Tris, you’re up early,” she said with surprise in her voice, turning to face him, and giving him a quick glance over. “Are you all right?”

“Rough night’s sleep,” he admitted, bending down to pet Dash who had trotted over after getting up from the basket he shared with Jess.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Mrs. Hall empathized with him.

Tristan shrugged before straightening up. “It doesn’t happen as much these days, but I think everything’s going to be all right now. Sometimes you have to face your fears, even if it’s in a dream, because when you wake up then you realize everything’s fine.” He took a bowl out of her full hands and placed it on the kitchen table. “I saw Maggie off with Arthur last night at the station.”

Audrey looked up at mention of Arthur’s name. “He finally got in? How is he?”

“Fine, well, what I saw of him. Jim, Helen, and I left them to it. It’s been so long since he’s gotten leave that I didn’t want to be the third wheel,” he said.

“I’m glad he’s back. Must be hard for Maggie to not have seen him in so long.”

“We all have our battles and secrets,” Tristan said, looking beyond Mrs. Hall to the door. He had to get Jenny out of the house before anyone else woke up. He knew the longer he talked the less time they had. “I seemed to have misplaced my wallet last night,” he announced sheepishly, raising his hands in defense when he saw her disapproving look. “I didn’t leave it at the Drovers, I know I had it when I got back. Jim and I went out to the shed to bring in a gift for Jimmy so maybe it fell out there.”

“You better go look for it,” she said.

Tristan nodded and though he started making his way for the back door, suddenly he turned and went back to the pantry.

“Last time I checked the back door were the other direction,” Audrey commented, wondering to herself what exactly Tristan was doing or what scheme he was plotting.

“I was wondering if you had any more of that strawberry jam that we could have on our toast this morning,” Tristan said, spotting the jar in question and purposefully putting it on a higher shelf. He poked his head around the corner. “I know you were saving it, but it is Christmas morning,” he pointed out hopefully.

Mrs. Hall sighed but her eyes gave away her adoration for him. “Let me see,” she said, stepping into the pantry as Tristan stepped out. He backed up to the hall door and with his hands behind his back he slightly pushed it open, watching carefully to make sure that Mrs. Hall stayed inside the pantry.

“I know it’s in here somewhere,” Mrs. Hall muttered, moving things about.

“If you don’t have it…” Tristan said, ushering Jenny to the back door.

“It couldn’t have walked away,” she said.

“Well, no bother,” Tristan replied, silently breathing a sigh of relief as Jenny slipped outside. “I better be going to look for that wallet before Siegfried hears that I lost it.” He then hurriedly followed Jenny outside.

When they both got in the shed, protected from the eyes of the outside world, he did breathe an audible sigh. Jenny leaned back against the shed wall, smiling as they apparently seemed to get away with sneaking out of the house. “I thought we’d never get out of there,” she said.

”It was a bit touch and go for a while,” Tristan agreed. “If she found out you slept in my bedroom we’d be getting married this morning.”

“Would that have been so terrible?” Jenny asked quietly, suddenly wondering if the closeness with Tristan early that morning was only because of her comforting him after his nightmare. At the time she had wondered if it was the start of a relationship she had dreamed of for over a year, but now, doubts were raised in her mind. It might have been presumptuous to assume he had marriage on his mind this early in their relationship (if it was indeed romantic in nature) but she couldn’t help but hope his feelings for her went further than just brotherly affection.

Tristan stopped pulling out his bike from the corner and just looked at her. “If I get married, it’s going to be the right way. Hasty marriages make people think—“

“Of course,” Jenny said quickly, dismissing it as she understood the practicality of his words. Elopements or marriages that happened out of the blue usually raised questions, especially in a small village like Darrowby. Of course he was right. However it didn’t stop her from imaging what might’ve happened if he really did love her the way she did him.

“Not that it would be bad being married to you; I’m sure you’d make a wonderful wife,” Tristan said, trying to smooth over his blunder, not wanting her to think that he was pushing the idea aside for good.

“I can’t cook very well,” Jenny chuckled, trying to make light of the conversation that was quickly turning too serious. “So maybe not such a wonderful wife.”

“Your father hasn’t starved or keeled over yet, so you must be doing something right,” Tristan joked as he rolled the bike over to her. “I’ll get it back from you another day.”

“Don’t let it be too long,” Jenny said, “Dad might wonder where it came from.” She started to push the bicycle into the driveway.

“Wait,” Tristan said, stopping her.

Jenny turned to look back at Tristan, a questioning look on her face.

“When you talked about Maggie before,” Tristan started to explain.

“It doesn’t matter now,” Jenny stopped him, not wanting to be reminded of their early morning spat.

“It does,” Tristan disagreed. “I believe you. I just ask that you do the same for me. I brought Maggie to the train station when Arthur’s train got delayed. Our night consisted of waiting for the train to get in, a lot of fog, and one innocent kiss on my cheek that Maggie initiated. Nothing more. Helen and Jim waited to pick me up from the station since I drove Maggie there in her car. They can vouch for me.”

“I believe you. Honestly,” Jenny said with a sincere smile.

“Good, then that’s cleared up. The other thing, about Percy,” Tristan said with a sigh. “You shouldn’t have gone through my personal letters, but what’s done is done and since you found out in a way I didn’t want you to, it’s only right you should also know that I’ve known about Percy‘s marriage since the summer. I found out right before he left. I tried to tell you, so many times, but it never was the right time. I thought if he was leaving anyway that I wouldn’t bother you about it.”

A flash of hurt appeared in Jenny’s eyes. “You didn’t think I could take it?”

“You seemed like you were so enamored with him. When he left I thought it wouldn’t hurt you to think higher of him than he deserved, if he wasn’t here,” he explained.

“You thought I were in love with Percy? This whole time?” she asked, thinking back to all the moments she spent with Tristan after Percy had left for London and all the letters she sent to him while he was in Doncaster. Could it really be that all the time she was trying so hard not to express her feelings for Tristan that he had mistaken that for her being in love with Percy? The idea, while ridiculously ironic, was intriguing and eye opening.

“I can’t deny the fact that you act like you’re in love,” Tristan admitted.

Jenny’s breath caught as she debated saying what she wanted to say or not. She looked down at the bike’s handlebars. “That’s because I am,” she said softly.

“I understand, Percy acted like he was everything you could ever want,” Tristan said, stretching the truth. If it made Jenny happy though, he was willing to sacrifice some of his own happiness.

“No. I’ve told you before, it were never Percy I loved,” Jenny said, turning to look at Tristan and his slightly confused expression. She got on the bike and placed one foot on the pedal, ready to leave, knowing that if she said what she wanted — what she needed — to say, she wouldn’t be able to control her emotions and would probably make a scene, which was not something someone would do when they were trying to sneak home during the early hours of the morning. “If I’ve acted like I’m in love, it’s because I am, just… not in love with Percy.”

Tristan tilted his head in puzzlement.

“It’s because I never fell out of love. It’s you. I’ve only ever loved you,” Jenny said, suddenly pushing off and biking away, leaving Tristan standing alone in the doorway of the shed, trying to process everything that had happened in the last few hours and wondering if he was still just dreaming.

“Did you find it?” Mrs. Hall asked Tristan as he came back inside the kitchen.

Tristan hesitated in his answer, forgetting his ruse for a moment before remembering how he got outside. The whole conversation with Jenny knocked him for a loop and seemed to scatter his thoughts as if they were blown away in the breeze. His normally smooth approach to working his way out of situations had left him then too. “Yes, right here!” he answered her, pulling the wallet from his pocket.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Mrs. Hall said with a knowing smile. She pulled from the counter a jar of strawberry jam and put it on the table.

“You’re an angel!” Tristan said, spontaneously hugging her.

She hugged him back before quietly asking in his ear, “What were Jenny Alderson doing here?”

Tristan paled. “Jenny?” he asked, his voice a bit too light to be serious about not knowing what she was talking about.

“You can’t lie to me,” she said, stepping back and looking him square in the eye. “There were a reason you had a taste for strawberry jam you placed up on the top shelf when I saw it on the bottom shelf this morning.”

Tristan looked back at her like a deer caught in the headlights. “How did you—“

“Mother’s intuition,” she suggested. “And I saw her coat in the sitting room when I came downstairs this morning. And the fact that you said that you lost your wallet when it were in your jacket pocket the whole time. And I heard the back door open and close twice. And—“

“All right,” Tristan stopped her, feeling defeated. “She got stuck here last night because of the fog.”

Audrey raised an eyebrow, not buying the whole story.

“So she decided to bunk with Richard and me. With the three of us there, we were chaperoning each other,” he said, trying to explain it in the best way possible. He knew she’d have doubts, just as he had, though he knew the more truthful side to the story. He wasn’t necessarily lying, just leaving out a few details that might shed a bad light on the situation. “Richard took his bed in the cupboard, I slept in a chair, and I gave Jenny my bed. It’s entirely innocent.”

Audrey went back to whisking the eggs. “And what will her father say when she comes home this time of day?” she asked, only raising her eyes to look at him pointedly.

“He might not notice?” Tristan said hopefully.

“We can hope so. I expect better of you Tristan Farnon than to keep teenage girls hidden in your bedroom doing Lord knows what.” She took a deep breath and sighed, still wondering if Tristan was being completely truthful with her.

“Nothing bad happened. Honestly. You won’t tell anyone, will you? Because if Helen hears, she’ll kill me,” Tristan said, being a bit melodramatic, but also knowing how fiery and protective Helen was of her family, especially her younger sister.

“I won’t tell her,” Mrs. Hall assured him. “Unless she finds out. Then I’ll have to say summat.”

“You are an angel,” Tristan said with a relieved tone of voice.

“You just try and be one,” she scolded him.

“I always am,” he replied as he smiled cheekily, before walking off to go down the hall. “I’m just going to get cleaned up and change my clothes before Siegfried notices I look the same as last night. If anyone else comes down, I wasn’t here.”

Chapter Text

Tristan made it back upstairs without crossing paths with anyone else in the house. He was amazed but also grateful that it seemed that no one heard his and Jenny’s quibble, with the possible exception of Mrs. H, who already seemed to be all-knowing in her mysterious and inexplicable way. They tried to be as quiet as possible, but in the heat of the moment, anger rarely comes quietly.

Soon the house would come alive with activity, but for that moment, it was still and quiet. Secrets and scandals had not come to light to anyone besides Mrs. H, and surprisingly she promised that she wouldn’t tell anyone. Her word was as good as gold and Tristan hoped they could keep their secret to themselves. He glanced at his bedroom door, thinking again about what had occurred only hours earlier, before refocusing his attention to the present. He entered into the bathroom and then locked the door behind him, stepping over to the sink to splash his face. He could use a bath, but soon the bathroom would need to be used by the multiple occupants of Skeldale who shared it. Glancing down at his watch, trying to calculate if he had enough time, he made his decision.

After a quick bath to wash up from the night prior, Tristan paused to listen outside the door. No movement, meaning it wasn’t just him who had a late night. He was grateful for the peace, however long it would last.

Tristan looked at himself in the mirror, deciding to shave and get completely freshened up before facing the rest of his family. While considering himself stylish and dapper (no one could wear a fair isle like he could), he hadn’t looked — really looked — at himself like he did then. He wasn’t that old. Thirty years old was not old. Why, he wasn’t even thirty yet — Jenny had just teased him about it so much that he almost started believing it himself. Twenty-nine might sound old compared to someone in their late teenage years, but it wasn’t beyond comprehension for him to pass as a few years younger.

He had no grey in his hair, nor too many wrinkles from the untold stresses of war and the high expectations Siegfried placed upon him when he was younger. Even Siegfried, nineteen years his senior, still had a way with the ladies — and if Tristan thought twenty-nine might sound old (no, mature), forty-eight sounded ancient.

What did it really matter? Age was just a number. If two people were in love, had a similar outlook on life, and wanted the same future together, did a simple matter of numbers stand a chance to get in their way?

Tristan decided Maggie was right. It was time to put his hesitations behind him and to take the leap.

After finishing up in the bathroom and feeling both clean and completely clean shaven for the first time in over a year, Tristan went across the hall and into his room. Upon entering, he looked around his messy bedroom, which was not at all an unusual sight as he leaned toward the untidy side himself. So much had happened in the hours of the night that it seemed unreal, as if time slowed down to fit everything in. Tristan doubted he got much sleep at all, and he would pay dearly for that when he had to cover over his sleep deprivation in front of everyone else so they wouldn’t suspect anything beyond his getting home late from the train station.

It seemed to Tristan that the only one who got any sleep at all was Carmody, who was still in the cupboard. What he had done was still a mystery to Tristan, and even though he took Jenny’s chaste description of the night she spent with Carmody as the truth, Tris couldn’t help but wonder how Carmody had gotten into that situation in the first place. Had he learned more than just veterinary research in London?

Tristan moved the standing mirror back into the corner and peered in the cupboard. “Richard!” he hissed, but when he didn’t get a response, he went over and started poking at the man under the covers. “Time to get up!”

“Hmm?” Carmody grumbled as he flipped over, pulling the blankets up to his chin.

“You’ve got to wake up, it’s morning already,” Tristan said, yanking the covers off in a brutally desperate effort to get him up.

The sudden chill broke Richard from his grogginess. “What happened?” he muttered as he attempted to lift his heavy head from the pillow.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Tristan said, backing away and leaning against the door frame. He crossed his arms as he gazed at Richard, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “If you remember that is.”

“Remember? Remember what?” Richard asked, rubbing his eyes.

Tristan leaned over and picked up Jenny’s ripped dress that was abandoned on the floor. “Would this help you remember?”

Richard looked over at the dress and squinted at it. Even his eyelids felt heavy, and it was all he could do to keep them partially open. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said flatly as he sat up. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat there, putting his elbows on his legs and holding his head in his hands. He didn’t trust himself to stand up.

“Too much of Dobson’s wine? Or are you just pretending you don’t remember what you were doing in my room with Jenny Alderson?” Tristan said, tossing the dress at him.

Richard of course didn’t catch it, as he was much too occupied with the sickly feeling in his stomach and head, so the dress landed at his feet. He looked down at it but refused to touch it. It was too much to take in while he was in that condition. He really just wanted Tristan to stop talking. Tristan’s usually boisterous voice sounded like it turned into thunder reverberating through his skull.

“You were here with Jenny, weren’t you?” Tristan continued with his interrogation, even though he already knew the answer to that question. “All the evidence points to it. What did you talk about? What did you do? And how do you explain how she ended up in my pyjamas?”

“I’m sure this is an interesting conversation for you, as you keep asking so many questions, but can we please talk about this later?” Richard pleaded, continuing to hold his pounding head in his hands and only raising his eyes to look back at Tristan.

“We could,” Tristan said as he gave a shrug, “but the Aldersons are coming to lunch today. If Jenny’s father finds out about this, you might want to have some pretty good answers because if I were him, I’d be wondering what my daughter was doing with a young man who apparently was with her all night.”

Richard finally raised his head. It was starting to dawn on him what exactly Tristan was getting at. The awful truth was that Richard himself wondered the same thing. The whole night seemed to have disappeared from his memory, lost to the hours of the night before.

“Is it all coming back to you now?” Tristan asked, sensing that Richard might have an answer.

Richard rubbed the back of his neck while he thought, trying to bring back to mind what had happened. “Well, not all of it…” he said, then added quickly, “Not any of it. But if you’re trying to imply that she and I practiced our procreative abilities, you are mistaken!”

Tristan raised an eyebrow. “You just said you didn’t remember any of it.”

“Well I would have remembered that!” he answered defensively. When Tristan just stared at him blankly, Richard looked again at the dress and picked it up, examining the rip down the seam. “I would’ve… wouldn’t I? That’s something that one remembers if one decides to go that course. I think. I’ve never done… had… I’ve never… been with a girl… that way. I’m sure you have so you’d know — or not. Not with Jenny of course. I don’t mean to imply that you’re the kind of man—”

“I just want you to do right by her,” Tristan interjected with a sigh, seeing Richard’s discomfort on a subject he apparently knew very little about. Tristan was then unsure on how to proceed. Without Richard’s confirmation, now all he had was Jenny’s word, and he hoped more than anything else that she was telling the truth and not covering over a lie to save reputations.

At the same time, he felt a bit guilty drilling him the way he did while Richard was still feeling the effects of the overindulgence of wine the night before. Perhaps Tristan felt a sense of guilt too, in that Jenny’s last (supposed) love interest he interrogated as well. Was it really jealousy fueling the unrelenting questions the whole time? With a hint of regret in his voice, Tristan cleared his throat and said, “I’d keep thinking if I were you. And I’ll see if I can get something from the kitchen to help with that hangover.” He reached over and patted Richard’s shoulder before leaving the room.

Richard had nothing more to say on the subject and just continued looking at the dress. Doubts were starting to be raised in his mind. He had never believed himself capable of doing such a thing with someone he wasn’t in a pair bond with. The wine had gone to his head and he wasn’t himself, not even that morning. He longer he sat there, the more he felt strangely hot, so he closed his eyes while still sitting up, trying to take deep breaths to settle his churning stomach. All he wanted to do was to lie back on the bed and make the feeling pass. The feeling in his stomach told him he couldn’t wait.

Though the morning slipped by rather quickly, upon the arrival of the Aldersons, Carmody made himself scarce and avoided Jenny as best he could. He wasn’t positive that she wanted to see him, and frankly he wasn’t sure he wanted to see her. If he had these desires stirred within him the prior night, what was he to do if it happened again, this time in front of everyone? He wasn’t even positive that she wanted to be in a pair bond with him, and if she did, he wasn’t sure how to proceed from there.

Asking Tristan for advice seemed out of the question after Richard saw how Tristan reacted when he realized that Jenny had taken up residence in his room for the night. Emotionally charged was putting it mildly, and for some reason Carmody sensed something deeper hiding beneath the surface involving both Tristan and Jenny. Tristan was acting very protective of her, and though gentlemen usually should act protectively of ladies in case of danger or predators, he seemed to be going above and beyond.

Richard felt that he himself was no predator, and if he remembered correctly (at least, he hoped he was correct) Jenny was the one who initiated a kiss, though thinking about it longer, he had given her some encouragement. He thought how unusual that would be in the animal world, with the female trying to impress and court the male, only rarely seen in certain species. Then again, Jenny was not some animal he could study for research on pair bonds. She was a woman, a woman with feelings of love, desires, and dreams of a better future, none of which animals in search of a pair bond would share with her. Nonetheless, Richard found her fascinating as a potential candidate for his own personal research project on human pair bonds, and as much as his interest in her told him to go near to her, his better judgement told him not to.

And somehow, even though he wanted to stay away, he couldn’t deny the fact that was a man with feelings too, feelings that were awoken last night that previously he thought he had put to rest long ago as they were too much of a distraction from his work. She had struck up such a companionable friendship with him, that he couldn’t help but be drawn to the remarkable woman who understood him and his peculiar complexities. He was so unwittingly confused in the complicated situation he unknowingly got himself into that to soothe his troubled mind, it was simpler for him to hide himself away in the examination room organizing supplies and making himself useful in that way as he sorted not only veterinary tools but also his jumbled thoughts, all the while nursing his hangover.

Meanwhile, whereas Carmody was hiding in either of the examination rooms and trying to make himself useful there, out in the center of the family, Jenny put on an act that all was well with her, that it was a lovely day, and that nothing could spoil the festive spirit radiating through the house. If it was hard for her to be joyous at the Drovers the night before, it was much harder for her to pretend that she was completely fine then. It would have been so easy for her to stay at home and not face Carmody the very next day. She thought about feigning a headache or stomachache (both of which were faintly there after the excess of wine the night before), but her father wouldn’t believe her. She was as healthy as an ox, and anytime she played that he usually could tell that something was up, which would only make matters worse in the long run.

Jenny came to the conclusion that the best way for her to hide her shameful sleeping quarters the night before would be to pretend that it had never happened, to go about her day like she would’ve if it hadn’t occurred, and to treat Carmody (and to an extent, Tristan as well) like she always would have. Though, in the past, while Jenny admired Carmody’s uncanny ability to remember all sorts of facts and research on a wide array of animals, she never talked to him much. Not like the night before, when she realized who the real Richard Carmody was and liked what she saw. And so, despite everything, Jenny went with her father to Skeldale for a Christmas lunch with their family and to celebrate Jimmy being in the world for two years, just as she had originally planned before everything happened.

It was when Jenny was helping Audrey by taking the potatoes out to the dining table that she passed Tristan in the hall. He too had been purposefully avoiding her, making sure he was always in a different room or deep in conversation with someone else when she was around. At times the thought flitted through her mind that he was avoiding her because he didn’t want to be responsible for what happened the night before, or perhaps that he was afraid of the next step in their relationship as friends (or perhaps more than just friends).

In any case, although after her first glance at him earlier in the day she was taken back by the disappearance of his mustache since she had last seen him hours before, that was nowhere near as shocking as the five words he muttered as he walked by her.

“She knows about last night.”

Chapter Text

Jenny almost dropped the platter of potatoes and stoped in her tracks. “Who?” she questioned Tristan but he was already back in the kitchen. If he meant Helen she knew she was in for trouble. It was probably well deserved, as she got herself into the mess that was called sleeping in Tristan’s bedroom with Richard and then Tristan himself. She still shuddered to think of the consequences and harsh words not only Helen would have for her, but even worse, what her father would think and say when he heard about it.

Turning back to the kitchen, she walked in with the tray and looked at Tristan. “Who knows?” she repeated, before realizing Helen was in the kitchen as well.

“Who knows what?” Helen asked, taking their utensils and placing them on the stack of napkins to be brought to the table.

“Who knows where Audrey wants the potatoes?” Jenny said quickly, grateful for the fast cover of her slip of her tongue.

“Middle of the table but save room for the goose,” Helen answered her.

Tristan left the pantry with some ale that they had been saving for that day. He again brushed by Jenny. “Mrs. H,” he whispered as he left to go to the dining room.

Jenny skipped to catch up with him, careful not to spill the platter’s contents. “How? I thought we made it out without her noticing.”

“She has a sixth sense, I swear,” Tristan grumbled, putting the bottles down on the table. He took the platter from Jenny and arranged it on the table where there was a spot for it. “She promised,” he said, stopping in the middle of what he was saying as James walked by the room. Once the coast was clear yet again, he finished his thought, “She wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“Why would she do that for us?” Jenny asked, a bit perplexed, but at the same time very thankful.

“I guess she believes me that the three of us were there the whole time together,” Tristan suggested, though honestly he didn’t know the real reason why either. “I don’t know really. I’m just grateful she’s keeping quiet for now otherwise we’d never hear the end of it.”

Jenny gave a nod in agreement before walking back to the kitchen. She wondered how many others knew of what they did but just weren’t saying.

Lunch did not improve matters between Carmody and Jenny. Although he knew he couldn’t hide in the examination rooms for the rest of the day, Richard looked as uncomfortable around Jenny as he felt, averting his gaze every time she came close to him. Awkward couldn’t fully describe their few interactions, and yet neither could honestly deny a spark of attraction between themselves the night before. As they gathered around the table for lunch, their seating arrangements at the table made it worse, as Carmody had to sit both next to Jenny and across from Tristan, who when he looked, seemed to stare right through him.

Jenny hesitated to take the seat next to Carmody, her eyes darting across the table at the chairs on the other side, and trying to rearrange their assigned spots in her mind before claiming the chair as her own.

“He won’t bite you and he’s not contagious,” Helen whispered in her ear as she walked by, referring, of course, to Carmody.

Hearing that Helen thought that she was afraid or embarrassed by Richard was enough for Jenny to determinedly take her spot next to him, causing him to shift in his seat and lean away from her. The last thing she wanted was others getting suspicious about her peculiar behavior, so if Richard was still going to act strange around her, Jenny decided that for herself, she would behave normally.

Everyone had finally assembled around the table, taking their respective seats. “Here Jenny,” Siegfried said, reaching over to fill her glass with the ale that Tristan brought from the pantry.

Jenny took one look at just the bottle and her stomach turned at the thought of more alcohol. “No thanks,” she said quickly, her refusal slipping from her mouth before she could think up a good excuse. “I’ll stick with juice.”

“Same for me please,” Carmody piped in, looking equally put off by even just the thought of drinking, then going quiet as he saw Helen and Tristan looking at him oddly. He understood that he had lost Tristan’s trust in him after what happened the night before, but Helen’s funny gaze at him he didn’t understand. He started to wonder if Helen realized that he was still slightly hungover.

“More for me then!” Tristan exclaimed happily, taking the bottle out of Siegfried’s hand and pouring the contents into his glass. He snuck a look at Jenny who gratefully smiled back, thankful for his propensity for always being willing to have a drink, especially if it didn’t cost him anything.

“I’m surprised,” Helen said quietly as she leaned over to Jenny. “Usually you jump at the chance to drink when Dad’s not looking.”

“It’s Jimmy’s birthday too, so I want to drink what he can,” Jenny said, inwardly groaning at her own lame excuse.

“And if it’s good enough for Jenny, it’s good enough for me,” Carmody added as he overheard the sisters’ conversation.

Jenny shot him a puzzled look at his uncalled for explanation, which did not go past Helen’s watchful eye. Any further comments were then spared as Siegfried rose from his seat and clinked his fork against his glass.

“Before we begin, I’d like to say a few words,” he announced. Upon seeing James’ expression of worry at the thought of a long speech akin to the one that was planned for Jimmy’s christening and Tristan’s pointed look of not wanting to hear quotes from ancient Greek philosophers, Siegfried cleared his throat. “I said a few words. No need to worry.”

Most who were gathered around the table chuckled and a select few breathed a sigh of relief.

Siegfried’s gaze swept around the full table. “It’s times like these when a person realizes how grateful he is for what — specifically, who — he has in his life. I also realize we might need to get a larger table or house,” he added with a chuckle. “But that is nothing when compared to what we might not have. The war has taken so much from families we know, separating them, some never to return and leaving a void in their hearts. There are others who have never known a family and they are spending their Christmas alone.”

His mind thought back to his first Christmas without Evelyn. He had Tristan, but it wasn’t the same. He was a changed man, his broken life only put back together by Mrs. Hall. She wasn’t only the glue that held their family together, but the woman who was able to piece him back together.

Thinking back to the present, his life drastically changed in almost a decade gone by, now with the large group of close friends sitting around his table, he continued, “If there’s one thing we’ve all learned from the war, is that we remember what’s truly important: that we hold close those dearest to us. In our case, it’s the family we choose. And while we may not all be related by blood, we are, in every sense that matters, a family.” After looking down at the opposite end of the table at Richard Alderson, who had little Jimmy Herriot sitting on his lap while the toddler was playfully grabbing his father’s hand, Siegfried’s gaze drifted down the table, his eyes falling first on his brother. “We argue, we tease, we drive each other mad at times, but we are always there for each other. We share our joys, our sorrows, and our… well, our questionable cooking attempts.” He teasingly gave a pointed look at Helen, which caused her to look disapprovingly back at him before hiding her laughter.

“We look after each other and enjoy each other’s company,” Siegfried said, his gaze now lovingly falling on Audrey. “And as long as you are all here, Skeldale House is not just a house. It is a home.”

Glancing at the two of the youngest people sitting together, Siegfried wondered where their future might lead them. Jenny was on the brink of adulthood and Carmody, while he had found his place in London as a research veterinarian, still had decisions to make on if he would continue on there after the war. Siegfried cared for both Carmody and Jenny as if they were his own adopted children, as much as he would hate to admit it to anyone besides perhaps Mrs. Hall, but he looked at them fondly and with as much pride as any father had a right to. “No matter where life takes us next year, whether near or far, I want all of you to know that you can always come home to Skeldale. There will always be a place for you here where you will be cared for.”

He picked up his glass and raised it high. “So let us toast to our family and the future. May peace come soon so the world will be a better place for young Jimmy to grow up in, surrounded by his family here, and may we share it together, if not all together physically, together in spirit. To Skeldale, to Darrowby, and to the friendships and our family that sustain us through the years. Merry Christmas everyone!”

They all raised their glasses and repeated, “Merry Christmas!”

With all of Siegfried’s talk about the future year to come, Jenny stole a glance at Tristan, wondering what their future held. She had gone and confessed her feelings to him again, and she felt that he had almost done the same. At least, she had the inkling that he was close to saying it. She had been wrong in the past, but that day, in the early morning hours, it felt real. There had to be something deeper than just his affection for her as a brother would have. Would the fact that she had an innocent indiscretion with Carmody change matters? Carmody seemed uncomfortable with something, but she wasn’t sure what. Surely he knew they both were innocent.

If anyone else noticed the rift between Jenny and Richard Carmody, no one said anything. Audrey of course knew something; how much she knew, she didn't let on. Jenny wondered if Helen felt that there was something going on. Her earlier remarks about Richard drew some suspicions on Jenny’s part. The others around the table made no mention of anything amiss. For Tristan, Jenny, and Carmody, they all knew each other’s secrets — at least part of their secrets — and could feel the tension in the air. There was a closeness between the three of them, suddenly driven apart by fear and stipulations, and not one of them knew what to do about it.

It wasn’t until the late afternoon when Jenny decided that she would face Carmody. Maybe the full effects of the wine had worn off, or perhaps it was her being tired of tiptoeing around what needed to be said. In any case, she knew that she had done no wrong, so it was time for her to convince Carmody of the same fact. It was, after all, ridiculous to be ashamed of something not committed.

The sitting room was full when Jenny made her decision; Jimmy showing off his new toys to his grandfather, James, Tristan, and Helen playing a board game, and Siegfried and Audrey sitting together on the sofa and reminiscing on Christmases gone by. Carmody had left the room after having his nose in a scientific periodical for what seemed to be hours, and his departure had not slipped past Jenny. Seeing her chance, she gave him a few minutes to find a new hiding place before she made her move. She stood up from her place on the floor, where she was petting the dogs who laid by the fire, and went to go turn on the radio, the room filling with the sound of carols and festive tunes. It made for a good distraction, as no one would hear her slip away to go find Carmody.

Much to her surprise — though knowing Richard, she really shouldn’t have been so surprised — he had disappeared into the dispensary, doing who knows what on a day when he should have off and be spending it with his adopted family. Jenny looked around before approaching the doorway, making sure that no one else was there to hear, which wasn’t an easy feat in a house filled with people. “Richard,” she whispered, so as not to scare him.

The use of his given name by a young lady still made him jump, causing bottles to be clanked together and nearly dropped. He nervously pushed one back onto the shelf and looked down at the second bottle in his hand. Never before had an antiseptic bottle been so interesting.

“Richard,” Jenny repeated, stepping inside. “What are you doing wasting your afternoon in here?”

“I thought I’d look through to see what they have in the dispensary. If there’s anything new,” he explained, placing the bottle left in his hand back on the shelf where it lived. “There’s no reason for you to ‘waste’ your day here, as you call it.”

“Still trying to get rid of me?” Jenny asked with a lilt in her voice.

Richard turned to look at her. His friend, who he had let down in ways that he couldn’t remember. Never would he want her to feel badly. His worries were that he had hurt her and caused her shame. It would be easier to lock her out of his life, but that was not to be the case. He had thought it over long enough while sorting through bottles and medicines earlier that morning. If she needed him, he would care for her. A courtship was unnecessary in a case like that. “I thought you had better things to do than spend time with me.”

“I want to be your friend, but it’s hard when you’re running away from me,” Jenny said softly. “You’ve barely said a word to me all day. What happened to the Richard I knew from last night?”

Richard fiddled with his bow tie. “I’m still myself. I believe I was drunk last night, which would account for the symptoms I am experiencing today, including that of a headache, fatigue, and a memory blackout of what fully occurred last night,” he admitted sheepishly.

“You don’t remember anything?” Jenny asked.

“I remember talking with you, and er— the…” Richard said nervously.

“The…” Jenny urged him to finish his thought.

“The… kiss,” Richard finally said in a whisper.

“And?”

“Nothing more.”

“Then what are you nervous about?” Jenny asked.

“Tristan seems to believe… the evidence, the facts point to… Miss Alderson, if ever you should need me, don’t hesitate to write or call. I’ll do the right thing by you,” Richard said, stumbling over his words as he so often did when he got flustered.

Jenny rolled her eyes. “We’re back to Miss Alderson again? I’m Jenny, remember?” She paused mid-thought as she reached into a box and took out some bottles that needed to be refilled on the shelves. “And don’t worry, I won’t be calling or writing. I won’t be needing to. We didn’t do anything serious.”

“I don’t think you understood what exactly I meant,” Richard said, turning to face her to give her his full attention. “I’d like to offer you both a home and my affections as your husband.”

This time it was Jenny who nearly dropped a bottle on the ground. “You’re what?” she asked incredulously.

“Offering you marriage,” Richard said plainly. He thought that his prior statement was much more romantic (and many women liked romantic sentiments, or so he was told by Tristan) but it seemed to go over Jenny’s head. She didn’t say anything at first and assuming she was overcome by her own emotions, Richard took the box out of her hand and placed it in an empty spot on a shelf. “I’m asking you to marry me.”

Chapter Text

The sudden realization of an actual marriage proposal stunned Jenny into almost not saying anything at all. The whole situation was very funny when she thought about it, leaning more to the odd type of funny than the amusing kind of funny. But at the same time it wasn’t funny at all, not when it involved herself, whose heart belonged to another, and not when it involved Richard, who was doing it out of a sense of duty. When Jenny finally found the words to say something in response, she couldn’t find it in her heart to accept his proposal, and at the same time, she hadn’t the heart to refuse him. In the end, she was able to mutter, “That’s what I thought you said.”

“Will you? Marry me?” Carmody asked, after not having gotten a definitive answer.

“You don’t need to marry me because of last night,” Jenny said.

Richard looked down at his feet, suddenly unable to face her. “You don’t want to marry me.”

“It’s not that—“ Jenny said, hesitating to explain her feelings, as she tried to put her thoughts into words that would be nice and cause the least amount of emotional pain, but also words that were honest. Being untruthful seemed to get her deeper and deeper into trouble and only hurt those around her. She had to be honest, even if it stung temporarily.

“So you do?” he asked, raising his head to look her in the eye again.

“No,” Jenny said, perhaps that time a bit too quickly.

“Oh.” He busied himself readjusting his sleeve cuff as he tried to think of something else to say, but the right words to say were not coming to mind. What does one say when a marriage proposal is refused?

“Not that marrying you would be a bad thing,” Jenny corrected herself, reflecting back on what Tristan had said to her earlier that day, and realizing that his words could also apply in her current situation. “It’s just not right for both of us now.”

It suddenly dawned on Richard that she might be trying to cover up what they did the night before. Perhaps she was only being nice about it because she didn’t know what else to do. “If we did — if there was a baby—“ he stammered.

“Is that what you’re worried about? A baby? There isn’t — won’t be — any baby,” she said firmly. She placed her hand on his arm, gently at first before giving him a reassuring squeeze. “I don’t want to hurt your feelings Richard, but I’m not in love with you. I love you as a friend and maybe I led you on too much. Made you think I loved you. It weren’t meant to last more than a night.” When he didn’t say anything, Jenny slid her hand down his arm and took his hand in hers. “You’re not too disappointed I said no?”

Richard shook his head. “I suppose I should be, considering I got refused by a potential mate, but I’m not. I feel…”

“Glad you don’t have to marry me?” Jenny suggested.

“I suppose a bit… relieved,” Richard admitted sheepishly. “Please don’t take offense.”

“I promise you I won’t,” Jenny said with a genuine smile.

Richard smiled back at her, feeling both liberated and open to continue his friendship with her, without a worry of the consequences of the night before dampening their newfound relationship as friends. “I’m not sure where I went wrong in my diagnosis though,” he said, furrowing his brow. “The symptoms seemed so clear to me that it looked like visible evidence proving that you wanted to be in a pair bond.”

“Symptoms? Diagnosis?” Jenny repeated, slowly letting go of his hand. “You talk about love like it’s some sort of disease that needs curing.”

Richard tilted his head thoughtfully. “Not quite. Honestly, are you in a pair bond?”

“I’d like to be pair bonding with a man but he pretends like he don’t know it,” Jenny said, turning away from Richard, knowing he’d be checking her pupillary response. She stepped over to the counter and looked down at the test tubes, running her fingers along the smooth rims.

“Do I know him?” Richard asked.

Jenny gave a half smile and briefly looked over at Richard. “Doesn’t everybody know everybody in Darrowby? You did live here for almost two years.”

“So I do?”

“Does it matter?”

Richard wanted to say yes. He wanted to explore the nuances of pair bonds and see how she would interact with someone she really did want to pair bond with. However, her secretive attitude didn’t help his boldness and he remained quiet in his answer to her question. “You weren’t in love with me. At all.”

Jenny shook her head. “I love you, as a friend, a fellow animal lover, even like a brother in a way. But not as a potential husband.”

As she listed what he was like to her, Richard took mental notes. She was describing a platonic relationship, but one with a closer bond than that of most non-romantic relationships between a man and woman. There was one part, one piece of evidence, that didn’t fit with her description of him being like a brother to her, and his confusion on it nagged at him. “The kiss, you kissed me.”

“That comes standard,” Jenny joked. She picked up a nearby matchbox and pulled out a match. “Chemistry I suppose. Put a young man and a young woman together in a room long enough, combine it with loneliness, something’s bound to happen.”

“Like a kiss?”

“One or two kisses doesn’t mean a love to last a lifetime. It’s a spark,” Jenny explained, lighting the match. She flipped it upside down, the flame burning faster and brighter. “Put it in the right conditions and it burns fast, seems strong.” She flipped the match upright and the flame got smaller. “Change the circumstances and it starts to weaken. Then one day — “ she blew on the match, putting the flame out, “it’s gone.”

“You’re saying we’re like red phosphorus and potassium chloride?” Richard asked, a little puzzled at her example.

“Maybe,” she said, hiding her smirk. “I’m just saying what happened last night weren’t because we fell in love. It’s because we both needed a friend and we happened to be there for each other. Right time, right place. I want us to keep on being friends and forget what happened or didn’t happen last night. And for God’s sake forget what Tristan said! I’m just the girl who…” she said, stepping closer and leaning over toward his ear so no one could hear but him, just in case anyone happened to be eavesdropping. “Spent the night in your room.”

“That’s the problem,” Richard said, looking down at his shoes.

“What problem?”

“You and I were together, unchaperoned. How will anyone believe you… us?” he asked, troubled by what others might assume given the circumstances.

“No one has to know. And Tris were there,” Jenny argued.

“Tristan? He was in his room with us?”

Jenny nodded, hoping she seemed as confident as she wished she could be. She knew that if Richard could be convinced they did nothing wrong, and if she could keep her own convictions strong, then if anyone raised questions, the two of them could be strong and united in their answers together.

“With us the whole time?” Richard pressed.

Jenny just shrugged. “Practically.”

Richard let out a sigh of relief. “Then why did he insinuate that we were alone?”

“Because sometimes his mind’s in the gutter,” Jenny explained. When she realized Carmody didn’t understand the terminology, she clarified, “He has a dirty mind. Thinks the vulgar things that others don’t dare think. Or they do and don’t let on…” she snickered, thinking of that similarity between herself and Tris.

“Right, point taken,” Richard said, understanding then what she was getting at.

Jenny picked up a glass slide and held it up to the light before sliding it onto the stage of the microscope. She peered into the eyepiece and studied whatever Richard had put on it before. “Were this all Tristan’s idea in the first place?” she asked softly.

“No, actually, that’s my own doing,” Richard said proudly, stepping closer to Jenny. “What you see is a bacteria called Staphylococcus aureus, known more commonly as Staph. Two years ago at Oxford, researchers found that penicillin can effectively kill that strain of bacteria after experimenting on eight mice that were infected with lethal doses of Streptococcus pyogenes bacteria. The four mice that were treated with penicillin survived and the other four that weren’t treated died. Upon further studies, researchers found that not only has penicillin been proven to kill Streptococcus pyogenes, but it also can kill what you are looking at right now, Staphylococcus aureus, among other strains of bacteria that cause infections.”

After he excitedly finished telling her all about the findings, he saw the blank look on her face that turned into a look of amusement. “Oh. You weren’t asking whose idea it was to examine that particular strain of bacteria.”

Jenny didn’t want him to feel that he had been rambling on for no good reason, as she did learn something, just not the information she was really after. “It were very enlightening.”

“But you wanted to know if Tristan told me to propose to you due to the supposed events of last night.”

“That were the general idea,” Jenny said with a smile.

“He didn’t,” Richard reassured her. “I came to that decision myself. I thought it over all morning and came to the reasonable conclusion that as a result of the assumed position I put you in, I owed it to you to offer marriage and the general security that it provides, along with romantic feelings that could continue to be cultivated between us over time.”

“Even though I don’t want to marry you, I’ll always remember you as the first man who’s ever worried enough about me to actually propose,” Jenny said gratefully. “You’re a good man Richard Carmody.”

Richard couldn’t help but blush as she praised him for his good intentions, no matter how misguided they were. And while their conversation cleared up most of his questions and made him feel much better about their situation, he couldn’t help but wonder if she had an answer for the last question haunting him. “There is still one problem though…”

“What now?” Jenny asked, wondering what else could possibly be wrong or need to be answered, as they had covered almost everything. Or at least, she thought they did.

“I seem to have lost a pair of trousers,” Richard said with a frustrated sigh. “I’ve looked all over but can’t seem to find them. You don’t happen to know—”

“I’m sure they’ll show up,” Jenny said, hiding her knowing smirk as she looked back down again into the microscope. “Things like trousers don’t just vanish into thin air.”

“Scientifically, that is true,” Richard agreed. “But I’ve looked everywhere and they aren’t there. Do you think Tristan has them?”

“I don’t think Tristan could fit into them, but don’t tell him I said that. Might hurt his ego,” Jenny laughed.

“Perhaps I’ll go take a look again. They simply couldn’t have just disappeared,” Richard said, slowly stepping away from her and opening the door to the hall, making sure no one was passing by before leaving.

“It’s going to be awfully hard to find them there when they’re up at Heston,” Jenny whispered to herself once he left, trying very hard not to laugh at the whole situation.

So the day had passed, awkwardness aside. By the evening, Carmody was still looking for his best pair of trousers and Jenny just observed from a distance, finding amusement in the confusion on his face, and his inability to describe what he was looking for to the others in the house, in case they brought up questions that could not be answered without more questions.

Jenny also watched Tristan as he flitted around. There was a difference in him. He didn’t go to the Drovers all day, and so she knew that he was telling the truth about Maggie. She silently wished Maggie well as she looked out across the street at the Drovers. She was glad that Maggie had a happy ending to her Christmas, and though Jenny wouldn’t admit it, she was also glad Tristan played no other role in Maggie’s Christmas plans other than that of chauffeur and escort.

With the same curiosity that Jenny kept her eyes on both Tristan and Carmody, Tristan was watching Jenny but kept his distance for the day, so no suspicions would be aroused, and to both give her the opportunity to talk things over with Carmody and to spend time with the rest of the family. He still had plans for Boxing Day that he hoped Jenny would be involved with, and as he watched her, he couldn’t help but plot out his course of action for the next day.

As he made these observations, Tristan saw that Carmody, after a while, started not to avoid Jenny any longer. Tristan hoped they worked things out, and decided to also hope for the best and take Jenny’s word. She wouldn’t lie to cover for Richard. Not to him. They had always been honest with each other (with the exception of their true romantic feelings) and Tristan hoped this time would not be the exception.

When night had fallen, and the Aldersons went home to Heston Grange, Jenny had never been so glad to be home and to sleep in her own bed, alone. Though before she fell asleep, she did think of Tristan, sitting herself up to say a prayer that he might be kept safe from the nightmares that tormented him as she was not there to bring him comfort.

Chapter Text

Boxing Day arrived with much anticipation from the family at Skeldale. Whereas those at Skeldale were preparing to attend Mrs. Pumphrey’s annual charity ball for convalescing soldiers, Jenny had other plans involving her nephew. She and her father had offered to watch Jimmy for Helen and James so they could enjoy time together at the party.

Jenny didn’t really mind, as she never felt that she fit in with the groups of people that would attend parties like those. She was too much a down-to-earth farmer to pretend she enjoyed a large fancy house, and she wasn’t flirty enough to enjoy time spent surrounded by dozens of young men. (How could she be when she was devoted to one man already?) Being at home — or at Skeldale, which was like a second home to her — felt much more comfortable.

Thinking back to her escapade at the Boxing Day party the year prior, it took her by surprise that it had been exactly a year to the day since she first laid eyes on Percy Caldwell. Little did she know how her life would change since then. Time flew by so quickly, and yet slow enough to fit in so much.

While she didn’t miss Percy, she did wonder how he was getting along. After her surprising discovery about him the day before, she found her thoughts drifting back to Percy more than she would like. Jenny knew it wasn’t love between the two of them, not even a close friendship really, but there was an attraction to a lifestyle of freedom that he seemed to symbolize; a spring season in her life where she didn’t care what others thought about her relationships and a time when she felt able to move on from a crush that had no future — at that time.

While still in her bedroom at Heston Grange, Jenny opened the drawer to her desk and pulled out Percy’s (first, last, and only) letter and looked it over. She hadn’t read it since she first got it and then tucked it away in her desk drawer. The bittersweet feeling swept over her like the changeable waves hitting against the seashore: affection at first, back to irritation at his lies, then pity for him having to hide who he was while trying to find happiness, and finally frustration at herself for not being more cautious.

She placed the letter back inside the envelope and into the desk drawer. Pulling back her chair, she looked at the clock, realizing it was time to get ready if she was to be there for Jimmy in time for Helen and James to make it to the party. Last year she was the one getting all dressed up. This year she stayed dressed for the farm.

She couldn’t go to the charity ball if she wanted to. Her pretty red dress was ripped and sitting somewhere in Tristan’s room; at least, that’s where she last saw it. She hoped he hadn’t given it to Mrs. Hall to repair, even if Audrey did know of her scandalous sleeping quarters. Surely Tristan was smarter than that. Jenny collected Carmody’s trousers from her dresser drawer and folded them up, wrapping them in the last bit of wrapping paper she had. That parcel went on her bed and it reminded her not to forget the other parcel she wanted to bring.

Jenny sat down on the ground and lifted up the ruffled bedskirt to get to the wrapped parcel. After blindly feeling around for it, she dropped flat on the ground to look for it, seeing instead of a parcel, a glowing pair of cat eyes looking back at her. “Poppy, scoot!” she shooed her cat away, who happened to be sitting on the flat rectangular box. She pulled it out and dusted it off from the dust bunnies and cat hair.

There was something else she was searching for and she again reached under the bed, smiling as she successfully found what she was looking for, pulling out a small shoebox. She moved back to lean against the side of the bed as she took the lid off the box. It might have been a plain looking box, but it held some of her most treasured items.

There were some photographs, one of her mum standing next to Helen when she was just a girl, Jenny herself only a babe in arms, another photo taken at Helen and James’ wedding, a ticket stub from when she went to see her first movie, a second-place ribbon that her ferret won in the Darrowby Pet Show back in ‘37, and a shell from the seashore her cousins gave to her, a reminder of life beyond Darrowby. The newest additions to her box were Tristan’s letters, neatly stacked and tied together with a ribbon.

She pulled them out as she sometimes did and fingered through them. All those letters, all those words. And not one word about Percy’s hidden life that Tristan knew all about. There were so many opportunities to tell her and he didn’t do it. Percy hadn’t either, so it was as much his fault (even more so) than Tristan’s fault. So Jenny found it in her heart to completely forgive Tristan for what had been so upsetting to her before.

Jenny took one letter out, a piece of the puzzle of their conversation over the autumn, a puzzle she only had half of. Her letters that she sent out to Tristan were lost to the world, squirreled away only in her memory. What he did with her letters, she had no idea; while she hoped they might hold some significance to him, or at least nostalgia for his days when he longed to be back in Darrowby instead of in Doncaster, Jenny knew it was entirely possible that he had gotten rid of her letters. They were bordering on the silly side anyway. In any case, to her, those lost letters that she had sent out were not the important ones. She only cared about what Tristan had to say, for she knew exactly how she felt when she read each one and remembered what she had said to him.

In so many letters they had teased and joked about serious matters, making light of the situation the whole world seemed to be stuck in. It was a form of escapism for both of them, and she couldn’t help but feel the same elation when she again opened up the envelopes as when she first received them. The letter she currently had in hand was when Tristan was teasing her about her future family and brood of children. Little did they both know at the time how serious that same subject would become for them. Tristan wasn’t joking the day before. He was concerned that she might become a mother sooner than she wanted to be one. Jenny understood how it must have looked, but she was certain she hadn’t committed any sin with Carmody beyond their mistletoe kiss.

The more she thought about it and the more she looked at Tristan’s letters, the more the feeling of irritation at Tristan’s disbelief in her faded. He was right to be judgmental, questioning, and concerned. Perhaps all that he did was because he was fond of her.

She slipped the letters back into their home in the box and before closing it up, took out Helen and James’ wedding picture, the one where the whole family joined in for a group photo. It was the only picture of Tristan that she had and it made her love the picture even more. Her heart still swelled with the feeling of adoration when looking at him. There was no denying the flutter in her chest whenever he was near. Looking at the photo gave her a feeling of wistfulness, a longing to be the age she was now, but without the constant threat of danger because of the war, back to the days before Tristan had seen any horrors of war, before he left many days a week to train others to be prepared to see action in warfare.

Jenny wished she could protect him from the terrors he faced. Maybe that was the same way he felt about her. He just wanted to protect her. She closed up the box and in a new determination she knew she had to prove to Tristan she was right, but at the same time, respect his feelings. Never before had she felt so rational and grown up. She was determined to prove her innocence in the matter, while keeping both her reputation and Tristan’s clear of blemish. She knew what she had to do.

Skeldale House the usual flurry of activity and commotion, Jenny worked in the kitchen as the rest of the family got ready to leave. Her father was outside with Jimmy, showing the young boy the animals kept in the shed. So Jenny kept herself occupied, washing dishes and thinking. That it itself was not new; what else is there to do while washing dishes but think?

Her thoughts were more troublesome than usual, feeling torn between her desires and what she knew would be best for everyone. When had growing up and falling in love gotten so complicated? It surely wasn’t for the faint of heart, but no one ever called Jenny Alderson a coward.

Her eyes darted over to the two parcels she had placed on the kitchen table. What was she to do with them? What was she do to with herself? She hoped Tristan wouldn’t get the wrong impression. While she knew she was still very much in love with him, she didn’t want Tristan to love her back because they shared one night together when they were both at their most vulnerable. And yet, it would break her heart if she were to push him away unnecessarily. If she could find a happy balance between the two — if he could just love her for who she is and not because of the circumstances they found themselves in (even if his love never went beyond the love he had for her like they were siblings) — she would be content; not perfectly happy, but happy enough. (For is there such a thing as perfect happiness anyway? If there is, Jenny had not yet experienced it.)

While lost in thought with her sleeves rolled up and her arms wet from soapy water, the clanging of the dishes almost made her unaware of the handsome young man staring at her from his place in the doorway. He cleared his throat to get her to look. “What do you think?” Tristan asked.

“About what?” Jenny responded, placing the wet dish to the side to dry. “The missing mustache?”

“You noticed,” he said with a grin.

Jenny rolled her eyes playfully. “Of course I noticed.”

“And your consensus?”

“I like you either way, with or without. You without your mustache reminds me of you before you went to war. You with your mustache reminds me you aren’t just Tristan, you’re Lieutenant Farnon,” Jenny said thoughtfully. “Either way, you’re still Tristan and I don’t think there’s anything you’d look bad in or with or… without. Why’d you get rid of it?”

Tristan shrugged nonchalantly. “Suppose I got tired of it,” he said, thinking back to what Percy had told him so many months ago. There was very little that Percy said that Tristan took to heart, mostly because he could never tell if the Private was telling the truth in the first place, but his comment on Tristan’s physical appearance was enough to jolt him from his own self-confidence. “You wore your hair short when you were younger,” he said, stepping behind Jenny and gently pulling her hair back and out of her face as she continued washing the dishes. “Now you wear it longer. No different.”

Jenny felt that Tristan’s touch was electrifying. How was she going to keep herself from him when he was being so attentive?

“So enough about my mustache,” he continued. “What about my suit? Hair? General appearance?”

“Handsome,” Jenny said with approval, silently adding to herself, as always.

Tristan picked up a dry towel and the wet plate Jenny had just set to the side. “You wash and I’ll dry?” he asked, though it was more of a statement than a question. “So you worked things out with Carmody?”

Jenny kept her focus on the wet plate in her hands. “We figured things out,” she said, not elaborating further as she didn’t want to bring up the topic of Richard’s marriage proposal she refused. If he knew anything about that, he would undoubtedly become suspicious again, and that was best left in the past. “You shouldn’t have to do the dishes,” she said, changing the subject and tugging on the towel in his hand. “You’re going to a party and are dressed for one, not for housework.”

“Why not? I’m ready early, everyone else is still getting ready to leave. I might as well do my part around here once in a while.”

“Your suit, it’ll get wet,” she countered.

Tristan placed the fairly dry plate down on the counter and took off his suit jacket, putting it on the back of the chair and replacing it with one of Mrs. Hall’s pinnies. “What do you think of this?”

“Still handsome,” Jenny said with a smirk. “You’ll be the trendsetter of all Darrowby.”

“Here we have the latest in the upcoming 1943 fashions, a pink apron to be worn over a suit to make sure none of those threads get a speck of dirt or grime,” Tristan said, playfully modeling the apron. “The idea is easy, you take one end and fold it over the other, tying it like so, and when the outside gets dirty, you untie it and flip the inside to the outside and ta-da! Fresh and clean front. Would you like one ma’am?” he joked.

“You are being daft today,” Jenny said, rolling her eyes and focusing her attention to the work at hand.

“And you are being very serious,” Tristan replied, slapping her shoulder with the towel.

“Oi!” Jenny exclaimed, shifting to the side. “Watch it!”

Tristan leaned in conspiratorially. “You do very well at switching the subject around to avoid what needs to be said. But you’ll find I can be just as tenacious as you. The other afternoon, did you and Richard sort things out? Friends again?”

Jenny nodded. “We never stopped being friends,” she explained. “Just had a bit of a detour, that’s all.”

“He didn’t make any passes at you, did he?” Tristan chuckled.

“He were a perfect gentleman,” Jenny said quickly, speaking up for her friend. “If anything, I were the one who were a bad influence.”

“So he learned nothing from what I taught him,” Tristan said sarcastically with an exaggerated sigh.

“Is that why you were so concerned?” Jenny asked. “Because you taught him everything you know about romance and you know what you’d do in that situation?”

“Well…” Tristan said, trailing off.

“You don’t have to hide your reputation from me Tristan Farnon,” Jenny said with a smile. “I’m not scared of you and your reputation as a skirt chaser.”

“A skirt chaser?” Tristan exclaimed. “That’s ridiculous!”

“It’s what I’ve heard some farmers say about you,” Jenny stated. “Even me dad agrees.”

“No wonder he’s suspicious of me around you sometimes,” Tristan muttered.

“I wear trousers, so he has nowt to worry about from the likes of you. I rarely wear a skirt for you to chase,” Jenny said, hiding her playful smirk as she passed Tristan another plate to dry.

“I think I’m done talking about me,” Tristan said, clearing his throat. “So Richard didn’t even try to get you to like him?”

“Oh I like him, he knows that.”

“I mean like him. He never turned on the charm or tried to kiss you or anything?”

“I’m sure I’m the one who kissed him. Not the other way around,” Jenny admitted. “Yesterday he did tell me a charming story that almost swept me off me feet.” She paused as Tristan looked with interest as he waited for her to expound on her story. “He told me the fascinating, romantic love story of how bacteria is killed by penicillin and how it saved the lives of four little test mice.”

Tristan put down the plate with a little more force than needed. “Oh no. And I thought navicular syndrome was bad!” he groaned.

“Aye, but you’ve never been wooed by someone who dreams about bacteria and finding cures for diseases. It’s all very romantic,” Jenny said with a straight face before breaking out in laughter.

Tristan too could not hold in his laughter. “Just you wait until you have a real date,” he said. “You won’t know what it’s like without a mention of some sort of medicine.”

“That might be better than snogging,” Jenny said honestly. When she saw Tristan’s doubtful look, she tilted her head toward him. “I mean it!”

“Oh Jenny, you can’t be serious!”

“I am! I don’t like kissing,” she said with a shake of her head.

“Then you just haven’t been kissed by the right man,” Tristan said matter of factly. “How many times have you actually been kissed? I mean, really kissed?”

“Number of occasions or actual kisses?” she asked.

“Occasions,” Tristan clarified. He realized that if she could remember exactly how many individual kisses she had received she really hadn’t had too many. He was sort of glad for that, but knew she had a lot to learn, and her inexperience would explain her dislike of kisses and other more romantic gestures.

Jenny tilted her head to the side as she thought about it. “Three… four… no, five. If you count me kissing Carmody on the cheek.”

Tristan wrinkled his nose. “That doesn’t count.”

“Then four.”

“He must have done it wrong,” Tristan said with a shake of his head.

“I don’t know, but I didn’t like it. Kissing Carmody were okay I guess, but I were a little drunk. Well, a lot,” she chuckled.

“Do I even need to guess who kissed you the other times?” Tristan asked wryly.

“I figured you already know,” Jenny said, passing Tristan the last plate and grabbing a towel of her own to dry her hands off.

“I seriously doubt he knew what he was doing.”

“He seemed to think he did,” Jenny said, thinking back to the last night she spent with Percy.

“It would never have worked between the two of you,” Tristan said as he dried off the last plate and put it away. “No offense, but he’s from the city and I don’t think he’d be a great farmer.”

“What makes you think I’m going to marry a farmer?” she asked. “Just because I work on a farm doesn’t mean I need a husband who’s a farmer.”

“You don’t have to marry anyone,” Tristan said, untying the apron and hanging it back on the hook. He stood against the counter and crossed his arms, looking at her thoughtfully. “But if you did, he wouldn’t have to be a farmer. I suppose you could make do with a painter, a banker, a barber, a stone mason…”

Jenny leaned back against the counter next to him. “Helen married a vet and they’re doing just fine,” she pointed out.

Tristan tilted his head back and forth as if debating her point. “True… yes, I could actually see you with a vet. You’d both love animas, work with them all day. He’d have to have a sense of humor and a stronger personality, to keep up with you.”

“Aye, I agree.”

“Who cares if he’s much older than you?” Tristan blurted out. “What does that really matter?”

“Who says the man I marry is going to be ancient?” Jenny asked, pushing off of the counter and facing Tristan.

“I don’t mean ancient, I mean a few years older than you,” Tristan said quickly. “Or not at all. He could be younger.”

“But he isn’t,” Jenny whispered, turning away from Tristan.

“I think you’d two make a fine pair,” Tristan said, stepping behind Jenny.

“I’m not talking about Richard Carmody,” Jenny said in a hushed tone.

“Honestly, I was hoping you weren’t,” Tristan admitted.

Jenny took a deep breath. “It wouldn’t work,” she said, trying to convince herself as much as Tristan.

“It’s hardly been over a year since you thought the two of us were a perfect match for each other,” Tristan said, searching for a glimmer of hope.

“I were only seventeen then, I didn’t know anything,” Jenny said. “I just knew I were in love with you and I couldn’t keep it in any longer.”

“And eighteen makes you so much wiser?” Tristan teased.

She wasn’t exactly irritated, but she wanted him to take her words seriously. He didn’t seem to realize that she was trying to be practical, despite her strong love for him. “When did you become so young and silly?” Jenny asked quietly, still facing away from him.

“When did you become so old and mature?” Tristan asked, putting his hands on her shoulders and turning her to face him again.

“Since two nights ago,” Jenny answered truthfully, looking down at her feet and avoiding eye contact. “I think it’s aged me ten years.”

“You don’t look a day over eighteen.”

“You don’t look a day over thirty,” she said, tilting her head up to look at him.

Tristan narrowed his eyes as he looked at her suspiciously, wondering if her more serious tone had slipped away and she was back to being the playful imp she usually was. “I’m still twenty-nine.”

“Is that why you’re being daft?” Jenny questioned him, crossing her arms and trying her best to be stern.

“Can’t a person be daft in his own house if he wants to be?” Tristan asked incredulously.

He was truly incorrigible. “Tris, can we please be serious?”

“About what?”

“You and me.”

Tristan looked down, thoughtfully at first, and then a mischievous smile appeared on his face. “We have plenty of time to be serious, but first, do you remember that thing that I was looking for when we were at the Drovers together, the thing I couldn’t find?”

“I don’t know what it is, but I hope you found it,” Jenny said.

“I did, it was just in the other pocket I didn’t check before we were interrupted by a disgruntled farmer.”

“That’s good,” she said, wondering what all that had to do with the subject of their relationship.

“Aren’t you curious what it is?” Tristan prodded hopefully. “And where it is now?”

Jenny looked at him with a suspicious gaze. “What is it?”

“You’ll have to come and see for yourself, because it’s under the tree with your name on it!” He took her by her hand, but before she left the kitchen, she grabbed her two parcels with her other hand and then followed him. Her hand in his felt so natural it didn’t even catch her by surprise.

Chapter Text

As Tristan and Jenny entered the sitting room, the two of them were unaware of the presence of the scholarly research veterinarian sitting quietly in the sitting room’s nook with his nose in a book. Richard heard them approaching, but by the time he realized they came to be alone in the sitting room, it was too late for him to get up and slink out of the room. It was a terrible quandary. If he said something, he would embarrass them both. If he stayed, he would be eavesdropping. Neither one seemed the morally right thing to do, but he decided the best thing to do with his current circumstances would be to stay quietly in the nook and hope they would leave. He watched from his hiding spot in the corner as Tristan pointed down at the lone present under the tree. “It has your name on it,” he said to Jenny with a smile.

Jenny, with a look of surprise and delight that he thought of giving her something, placed her parcels on the sofa and kneeled in front of the tree. “Tris, you shouldn’t have,” she said quietly, picking up the small wrapped box.

“You’re wrong, I should have,” he replied as he kneeled down next to her. “Go on, open it!” His enthusiasm was much like a child’s, excited for her reaction to the gift he had been waiting to give her.

Jenny peeled back the wrapping paper and looked at the small rectangular box. She opened it up and revealed a charm bracelet, complete with charms on it already. “Tris… I don’t know what to say…” she said as she looked up at him with a smile on her face.

“You can thank me later!” he chuckled. “The charms have meanings: the paw print is because you love animals, the horseshoe is for your horses and for good luck, and the heart, that symbolizes us, our friendship and whatever else comes of it in the future.”

Jenny touched the bracelet lightly, her fingers gently moving over the charms as she listened to Tristan tell her about each one. It was a beautiful gift, but she knew that after she told him what needed to be said about their relationship going forward that she might not be able to accept it. “I never had something so nice and thoughtful,” she said softly.

Although Carmody was trying not to listen too carefully to the private conversation, he couldn’t very well block them out either. He wondered what the gift giving symbolized. It was past Christmas Day, so perhaps it was a belated gift? Or could it be part of the courting rituals of potential pair bond partners? Suddenly his eavesdropping didn’t seem so bad to him after all. It instead could be further research on the topic of human pair bonds. Tristan had always fascinated him when talking about that subject. Now he could see the man at work and observe Jenny’s reaction at the same time.

Tristan took the bracelet out of the box and placed it on Jenny’s wrist, clasping it on. “That’s so you don’t change your mind.”

“About keeping it or…” she said, trailing off.

“Or what you said yesterday morning,” Tristan clarified with a shy smile.

“I know,” Jenny said with a sigh. “I spoke out of turn.”

“No,” Tristan said quickly. “No you didn’t. I thought at times maybe you stopped caring. But I see now you didn’t. And if you still feel that way, I’d like to give it a try. I can only fight you and my own heart so long before giving in.”

Jenny saw the love in his eyes and she mirrored his affection in her own. This was the moment she had waited so long for, and now she was going to give it up. She didn’t know if it was the right thing to do or say, but she had made a promise to herself, and she always kept her promises to herself. It would be best for everyone. “Tris, please don’t make it harder for me. I wanted to talk to you about what I said yesterday. About being in love with you.”

As the realization hit that she didn’t care for him in the way he thought she did, Tristan slowly let go of her hand, placing it down in her lap, as if she would think even his touch would be overstepping the unspoken line between them. “You didn’t mean it after all…”

Jenny shook her head. “That’s me problem. I did. Mean it.”

“But…” he said quietly, “there’s a catch.”

Jenny gave a half hearted shrug. “But now, I can’t.”

“You can’t love me and you think I overstepped with the bracelet,” Tristan quickly said, filling in his own thoughts in place of her words, as if hearing her utter it would be too painful to hear.

”It’s not the bracelet,” she said, absentmindedly fingering the charms on the bracelet. “Can’t you see? It’s all me own fault. If I were to say I love you now, you might think it’s because I’m trying to cover up what I did with Richard. And I didn’t do nothing with him shameful like, but if anyone else found out—“

“They’d think we got up to something,” Tristan said softly, understanding her point of view on the matter.

Richard squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. This was definitely something that they probably wouldn’t have said if he was in front of them. He was glad to hear that Jenny reaffirmed her thoughts that they hadn’t done anything intimate that they would later regret. He leaned forward in his chair just a bit. Were Jenny’s eyes dilated? He wished he could see from his vantage point.

Tristan, however, could see Jenny’s eyes, and if he were as observant to the physical signs of being in love, he would have noticed that her eyes were indeed dilated. They carried a look of pleading for acceptance and understanding. “If what didn’t happen last night ever happens, between you and Carmody or anyone else, and you need someone to take care of you, you can always come to me. I might have played around in the past, but I care for you. More than I thought possible. I’d… I’d even marry you even if it’s not my child, and you need someone to step in,” Tristan blurted out.

Jenny leaned back and looked into Tristan’s eyes. She hated admitting to herself that she was checking to see if his eyes were dilated. Those stupid pair bonds and symptoms of love that Carmody explained to her were rubbing off on her. What ever happened to simple love? she wondered. “Is that the only reason?” she asked, only slightly annoyed that he thought her capable of enjoying any male’s companionship, flitting from one to the next. He seemed to have no idea that her loyalty and devotion was to him alone.

Tristan shook his head. “I know we’ve kidded about it, but I’d marry you not just because of an emergency or accident. You took care of me the other night. You were there for me. We mean something to each other, more than just friends or like brother and sister. At least I felt like we had something together. I’m not wrong, am I?”

Jenny looked away from Tristan and concentrated her gaze on the tree, still decked in its trimmings. “Why are you making this harder for me?” She took a deep breath before continuing, steeling herself for what she was going to say. She turned back to look at Tristan, her thoughts put together in the most logical way she could say them.

“I don’t want you that way. I don’t want you to feel a sense of obligation or gentlemanly duty because you think I need a man’s help to get out of the problems I make for meself. I also don’t want you to love me just because of the other night. We weren’t ourselves then. If it’s just a moment of passion, who’s to say it will last? What if your love for me, or whatever you want to call it, runs out? I can’t have you resenting me for holding you back. I would rather not have you at all than to have you that way. Please, Tris, please understand. I love you, I always will. But let’s wait. A few months, till it all blows over. And if you might still care for me, I’ll be waiting.” Jenny blinked away a tear. “I’ll always be waiting for you.”

At that point, Carmody knew his suspicions were correct. The man Jenny wanted to pair bond with was Tristan. In the animal world, it would be considered the backwards way of doing things, the female chasing or declaring love for the male, but Jenny was a human, and a most remarkable one at that. He wondered what Tristan would do next.

Tristan looked down at the bracelet on Jenny’s wrist. It was ironic that over a year ago he told her to wait, and now that he was ready for the next step in their relationship, she was telling him to wait. It made sense, as she was a practical girl. But for once he wanted to be young and impractical, for both of them to step out of their comfort zone and try something new without judgement from others. However, he would never force her to do anything she wasn’t comfortable with, and so he just gave a nod of his head in agreement. “We’ll always be the best of friends.”

He paused and they shared a moment of silence, still unaware of Richard wondering when they would leave the room so he could make a swift exit before they found him there. In a change of subjects to get his mind off of the serious conversation they just had, Tristan asked, “You sure you can’t come with us to Pumphrey Manor?”

Jenny shook her head. “That’s what I’m talking about. We shouldn’t be out together so soon after our night together. I… I think it’s best we spend some time apart. So you can be sure. About us. Besides, I can’t go looking like this,” she said, thinking up a fast excuse.

“Last time I looked upstairs there was a red dress just your size that you could wear,” Tristan said in a hushed voice.

“That dress is ripped,” she reminded him. “I can’t wear that.”

”It was ripped, but it’s fixed now.” Tristan said proudly.

Jenny’s face turned somber. “You didn’t give it to Audrey to mend?”

“You think I’d do something like that?” Tristan said with a roll of his eyes. “Come on Jenny, give me more credit. I am good at the domestic side of life. I can cook, clean, do laundry, and mend clothing.”

Jenny was visibly relieved that he didn’t get them further into trouble than they already were. “You can do that all? You’re hired,” she joked.

Talking about the practicalities of life made sense to Richard. Anyone wanting to enter a pair bond should see the benefits to picking the other as a potential mate. Did Jenny just agree to becoming Tristan’s pair bond partner? It sounded more like a business contract to him with minimal romantic undertones compared to how Tristan described how a marriage proposal should go. Richard even thought how his marriage proposal, despite not getting a positive response to it, sounded much more romantic.

Unwittingly interrupting Richard’s train of thought, Jenny looked over to the sofa, her eyes lighting up as she caught glance of the parcels she brought with her. “Oh, I didn’t give you your gift!” she exclaimed as she suddenly remembered it. “Here,” she said as she gave the present to Tristan.

Tristan took the parcel and unwrapped it to see a brand new sketch pad complete with multiple pencils and erasers. “Jenny, it’s perfect!”

“Thought you might like it,” she said, suddenly feeling a wave of shyness come over her. “I saw it when I wanted to get into sketching meself, but realized that’s for a real artist. Someone like you.”

Tristan leaned over and gave her a hug, feeling her lean into his embrace. Before it got too deep with charged emotions, he pulled back. “You know me pretty well, don’t you?”

“I know enough,” she said with a knowing smile. She couldn’t help but smile after he impulsively embraced her out of his gratitude. They had never shared a hug like that before. The night they spent together they were close, but hugging him outside the privacy of his room felt real, like they had a chance of being together without being judged. But they had time in the future for showing affection in public, and Jenny would wait patiently, just as she had been doing all along.

Their quiet moment was interrupted by Siegfried calling out from upstairs. “Mrs. Hall? Where did you put my trousers?”

Jenny and Tristan looked at each other, their minds switching from romantic thoughts about each other to the mutual love that Siegfried and Audrey shared. Everyone else could see how much they were in love except for themselves. Tristan smirked as he knew what innuendos Jenny was thinking, and as she caught his knowing gaze, nodded ever so slightly in confirmation. They both tried their best to cover their laughter, but it was hardly working.

“Oh, that reminds me!” Jenny said, after she composed herself a little bit more, trying to find something else to think of so they wouldn’t have unwanted attention from others in the house. Explaining what they were laughing at would be awkward to say the least. “Carmody’s trousers.” She reached over and got the other parcel. “You can give these back to him.”

Richard was glad he was hiding in the corner as he could feel the heat on his face. He was blushing, another sign of being in love, but this time he felt it resulted from the embarrassment of Jenny talking about his trousers. Was that what they were chuckling about right before she mentioned them? How had she gotten them? He shuddered to think of the possibilities.

“And my shirt and tie?” Tristan asked, holding out his hand in expectation.

“What shirt and tie?” Jenny asked innocently.

“The ones I lent you,” he reminded her. “The ones that are still obviously in your room.”

“Hmm…” Jenny feigned innocence and pretended to look thoughtful.

“Will I ever get them back?”

Jenny shrugged it off nonchalantly. “You stole me heart, so it’s only fair I get to keep summat of yours.”

“So I’ll never get them back.”

“Not until I get me heart back.”

“Which will be…?”

Jenny tilted her head to try and gauge how serious he was being. Not very, she suspected. “I hope you didn’t like them too much, because they’re mine for keeps in that case. Or I’ll trade them for your last name,” she said coyly.

“Jenny Alderson are you flirting with me?” Tristan asked incredulously.

“I think I should be allowed to flirt with the man who buys me a bracelet!” she exclaimed.

“After you tell me we have to refrain from any sort of romantic relationship for months,” Tristan said, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

“Fine. No more flirting. I’ll keep me word,” she said, turning away and pretending to ignore him.

“And you’ll keep my shirt and tie.”

“That too.” Jenny looked down at the bracelet on her wrist, hiding her smile.

That was by no means refraining from a romantic relationship. Richard noted they were exhibiting all the signs of being in a pair bond, each addition to their conversation more fully confirming his theory. He was curious how Jenny got Tristan’s shirt and tie and how on earth she ended up with his best trousers that he thought for sure had gotten lost. Why hadn’t she told him when he asked her? Was that her way of flirting without him realizing it? If it was, that didn’t go well, as he was going to get his trousers back while Tristan didn’t get either his shirt or tie back. Jenny’s heart for a shirt and tie — Richard supposed that wasn’t such a bad trade if Tristan did get the affections of the girl he wanted to pair bond with.

Helen and James walked downstairs, looking all dressed up for the charity ball. “Tristan, you almost ready to leave? Siegfried’s nowhere near being ready but we can take Aud and you can go with Siegfried,” Helen said, looking into the sitting room, and to her surprise, finding both Tristan and her sister sitting on the ground like a couple of kids, complete with gift wrap strewn about them.

Tristan broke his gaze at Jenny and turned to see the Herriots. “That’s fine, you three run ahead and I’ll wait for Siegfried. Drink first?” he asked, getting up to get out Siegfried’s best whisky.

James and Helen shook their heads.

“Jenny, you?” Tristan offered, but then immediately regretted asked when seeing the pale look on her face. He should have known better.

Jenny’s stomach turned at the thought of any type of alcoholic drink. “No thanks,” she said, putting on a good act of not showing the sick feeling that the sight of the whisky gave her. “I made a resolution not to drink until next year.”

James looked over at Jenny, slightly confused. “Today’s December 26th. The new year is six days away. Aren’t resolutions usually made on New Year’s Day?” he asked.

Jenny gave a laugh. “That’s why I made the resolution now instead of New Years’ Day. It’s a lot easier to keep when there’s less than a week left,” she said, grateful she thought of something quick to say before she stumbled over the truthfulness of the matter. She couldn’t very well tell her brother-in-law and her sister, ‘No, I’ve had enough alcohol to last me a week since I drank over half a bottle of Dobson’s strong elderflower wine on Christmas Eve when I was alone with Richard Carmody — yes, the Richard Carmody who doesn’t usually touch the stuff. We got drunk and kissed and slept in the same room together and it’s no wonder no one would believe me if I said everything was very innocent.’

Helen shook her head in mock disapproval. “Tris, you’re being a bad influence on me little sister.”

“You might want to take a look and realize she’s not so little anymore,” Tristan said, pouring himself a drink and raising it slightly in Jenny’s direction before taking a sip.

“She’s not,” Helen said quietly. Then a bit louder, and directed at both Tristan and Jenny, she added, “You behave yourselves.”

“You sure you’re all right staying here with your father and Jimmy?” James asked. “Carmody is around here somewhere. He’s decided to catch up on reading instead of coming with us, though I’m not sure how helpful he will be with Jimmy.”

Richard slid farther down in his seat, trying to quietly keep out of sight from the people talking about him like he wasn’t even there — and as far as they knew, he wasn’t there. The problem was that he was indeed listening and it was both interesting and slightly embarrassing what others said about him when they thought he couldn’t hear.

“I think we can manage a two year old,” Jenny said with a smirk.

Helen looped her arm through James’ arm. “We’ll only be gone a couple of hours. If you need us, you know where we are. We’ll go outside with Dad and Jimmy and I’ll have Dad let you know when we’ve left.”

Jenny just smiled at her sister. Helen did like to make sure that she was taken care of, despite all the responsibility she shouldered each day at the farm. Jenny felt she could handle almost anything Helen could, but maybe it was her sister’s way of showing she cared. Then was not the moment to fuss over it. So she simply said, “Don’t you worry about us. Dad will make sure Jimmy’s okay and I’ll supervise. You two have a good time together.”

After Helen and James left the room, Tristan tried offering yet again, “You sure you won’t come?”

Jenny nodded with a certainty. “I’m sure. I went last year and it’s not me thing. I don’t fit in with that type of people.” She paused and looked into the fireplace. “It’s where I met Percy.”

“I didn’t realize. You never told me,” Tristan said quietly, sitting down next to Jenny, close enough that their shoulders brushed. He wasn’t hurt by her not telling him before, but he was curious as to how the whole romance started. It was information she never volunteered and on that particular topic, it was the one, and perhaps the only one, he didn’t pry into any further. He simply wanted to forget about Private Caldwell and all his shenanigans.

Jenny gave a half-hearted shrug. “You never asked. It’s not that important anyway. It weren’t a great love story or anything like that. Just a man who thought he were in love with a farm girl who had her heart set on someone else. You see, it were hopeless for him from the start.”

“How exactly did you meet?”

“It were over a tray of food. He asked to walk with me and took me outside. He were tolerable I suppose but when he got inside he kissed me. I slapped him.”

Tristan’s eyes got large. “Is that why you don’t like being kissed?”

“Oh no,” Jenny said quickly. “One kiss doesn’t bother me too much. I just want to approve of it and the giver first. I don’t like just any man coming up and kissing me. I don’t know where he got the idea from, cause I didn’t give any hints that I wanted one.”

Tristan glanced at her lips before his eyes met hers. “Believe me, I’m sure a lot of men have thought about kissing you before, and Caldwell won’t be the last. It’s just he actually did something about it. So after the kiss and slap, what happened and how did you two become such good friends?” he asked, feeling a bit better and bolder to ask the questions he wondered for so long since the summer.

“He tried wearing me down and I guess he grew on me. He were someone else to be with other than me dad. We walked. Talked. Well, he did. I listened and got a few words in here and there. We went sightseeing around the Dales,” she explained.

He nodded, understanding then why she let the annoying Private stick around. “Did you take him to the area you took me to last summer?”

Jenny shook her head. “That place is too special to have thought about sharing it with him.”

Tristan smiled knowingly at her, pieces of the mystery of his heart falling into place. She had been in love with him the whole time, he was just fool enough to deny it for as long as he did. Now he wished he told her sooner about Percy. He couldn’t go back in time to change the way he did things, but there was no time like the present. “Wait there, I’ll be right back,” he said, getting up and going to the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Jenny asked, looking after him as he left.

Richard wished Jenny would follow after Tristan. He wondered how long he was going to have to wait for them to leave, though he did find their conversation on Private Caldwell intriguing. Ever since he spoke to Mrs. Caldwell of London in the summer, he wondered how Tristan got involved with that family. Tristan and Jenny’s conversation certainly cleared a few things up. In any event, he would end up being privy to their continued conversation. There were far worse ways to spend an afternoon, so he settled in his chair and paid more attention to the scene in front of him than he did to the words on the page.

After a minute Tristan came trotting down the stairs and back into the sitting room. “Siegfried’s almost ready, but one last thing before I go,” he said, passing two sheets of paper to Jenny. She cautiously took them in hand and looked down. It was familiar — Percy’s letter to Tristan.

“I should have given it to you last summer,” Tristan said with a hint of guilt in his voice. “But it’s yours now. You can do what you want with it.”

Jenny looked over the letter again. This time reading it was not as shocking as it was the first time. It was just words on two pieces of paper, and those words didn’t mean as much to her as they originally did. “You sure you don’t want it back?” she asked.

He shook his head. “It’s rightfully yours.”

“I still have the letter he wrote to me. I keep it in me desk drawer to remind me not to be so foolish and try settling for someone I’m not in love with,” she explained. “Maybe we owe it to Percy to get rid of any reminders that he were foolish too, and we’ll never have to mention him again.”

“You mean that?” Tristan asked. “We won’t even mention his name between us?” He had a sense of relief being able to put that part of their lives behind them.

“I promise,” Jenny assured him. With that she dropped the letter into the lit fireplace, the flames quickly consuming the two sheets of paper with Tristan and Jenny as witnesses to its fate. As Jenny watched she couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for Percy. “I hope he’s happy,” she whispered. “I did write back to him, but never got a reply.”

Tristan’s hand found its way over to Jenny’s and his fingers intertwined with hers as they watched the letter darken and disintegrate into ashes that would be cleared the following morning. “I’d like to think he found his happiness with his wife. And child,” he said softly, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Sometimes it takes a while for some people to realize that what they’ve wanted and the happiness that they’re searching for has been right in front of them the whole time.”

Jenny looked down at Tristan’s hand holding hers. It felt so natural, as if they had been doing it for years, and yet, this was just the beginning. It wasn’t anything serious, but it was a start. Someday she hoped he would still love her unconditionally, and she would be patient to wait for her happiness. They had time, and as long as there was a chance for a future relationship with a promise of something more than just the close bond as friends that they currently enjoyed, Jenny could patiently wait. Until then, she was content with holding his hand, for it was a start.

Chapter Text

The day came when Richard Carmody had to go back to London, leaving his home and adopted family yet again. He had grown up being moved from one boarding school to the next, once in a great while to an older relative’s house for the summer, and then back again to school. He had never put down roots before, and in the past when he had just started to, they were never allowed to grow before being uprooted and moved on. Now he had experienced a home and true family and it was hard to leave. Every time he came back to Darrowby and Skeldale House, he felt he was leaving a part of himself behind until the next time he was able to come home.

He didn’t want a showy send off as he would be back, though not exactly sure when. So when Richard had finished packing his bags upstairs and stepped to the top of the staircase, he didn’t expect to see Jenny Alderson waiting for him at the bottom of the staircase, looking like she came straight to see him from doing her chores on the farm: hair windblown, grass stains on the knees of her trousers, and splatters of dried mud caked onto her boots. Unsure of what to say, Richard only looked at her, finding her messy appearance somewhat strangely attractive compared to most of the city women he came in contact with, and he silently started walking down the stairs. By the time he got to the second from the last stair, he finally thought of something reasonable to say. “How did you get here?”

“Helen let me in,” Jenny answered him, a playful grin on her face as she leaned against the railing. “You didn’t think I’d let you go without saying goodbye, not after all we’ve done together.”

Richard cleared his throat. “I didn’t expect… that is, you didn’t have to come.”

“We’re friends,” Jenny said, “so of course I had to. I don’t know when I’ll see you again and I wanted to let you know that I did enjoy the time we spent together the other night.”

“I enjoyed it too,” Richard said, hesitantly at first, putting his suitcases down on the stair.

”I’m glad.” Jenny slid her hand along the smooth railing as she walked to the end of the stairs, the railing no longer a barrier between them. ”When you go back to London, just remember that anyone who doesn’t want to be friends with you must be daft. You’re one of the smartest and kindest people I know, and I’ve gotten to know a lot of people. Never let anyone make you feel bad about who you are. Don’t change, cause I’d like you just the same next time I see you,” she said with a genuine smile.

Hamish, who had felt the tension on his lead lessen, trotted down to sniff the girl who currently captivated the interest of the human he loved most, which earned him a pet from her. As Jenny bent down to stroke Hamish’s head while he was was intently sniffing her shoes which undoubtedly were covered in many scents that were not found in the city, she glanced back up at Richard, who hadn’t anything to add to what she had said. “You probably don’t know it, but with all your talk of pair bonding, I now know for sure what I want, even if I have to wait for it. And even though it’s not us, you helped me realize what it is that I want out of life and love.”

Richard just looked back at her with some confusion written on his face. “I’m glad to hear you’ve sorted things out. And if ever you need me, you know where to find me. Though a phone call would be easier.”

“Thanks, I’ll always remember I have a friend down in London in case I ever find meself there.”

Richard nodded and stepped off the last stair to the hallway. He kneeled down to get on her level, under the guise of petting his dog just as she was doing. “When I saw you standing there I was wondering if you changed your mind,” he admitted in a whisper. “On the offer.”

“Us Alderson women take care of ourselves and our own, so you don’t have to worry about me,” Jenny reassured him, her eyes full of gratitude for his friendship.

“I suppose Tristan wouldn’t like it,” Richard said, quickly glancing from Hamish to Jenny and then back to Hamish.

“Tristan? What’s he got to do with anything?”Jenny asked, keeping a tone of surprise in her voice.

“You mentioned how you wanted to be in a pair bond with a certain somebody. It’s Tristan, isn’t it?” Richard questioned her. “It is Tristan that you love?”

Jenny, diverting her eyes so he couldn’t check her pupillary response, looked back down at Hamish. “Anyone could fall in love with anyone I suppose. Take me and you.” With a last ruffle of the dog’s ears, she stood up and brushed off any remaining fur from her hands onto her trousers.

“We’ve been on that topic before, and you can’t change the subject like you did last time,” Richard said, also rising from his spot.

Without another word, Jenny stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, embracing him in a hug that seemed to squeeze into him all the love she had. “That’s to keep you quiet on that subject,” she whispered in his ear.

After his initial surprise, he followed suit by positioning his arms around her in a somewhat awkward manner. He could also feel his face getting flushed, and mentally noted how that particular response to the stimuli seemed to occur every time she physically touched him. It was worthwhile recording as a known and proved response.

“Ready to go?” Siegfried asked as he came around the corner with keys in hand, happening upon the two of them in an embrace.

Richard pulled away from Jenny as quickly as he possibly could get out of her hug. He took a deep breath, trying to clear his head from the impulsive action he had just taken. Straightening out his bow tie, he nodded at Siegfried and picked up one suitcase and Hamish’s lead, while Jenny quickly picked up the other suitcase before he could say anything. “You don’t have to,” he said to her.

“Stop telling me what I don’t have to do and just let me do it,” Jenny teased him.

“We don’t have all day,” Siegfried said, choosing to ignore what he had just witnessed as he headed for the kitchen door, focusing instead on his watch and how late it had gotten.

The Skeldale family assembled in the driveway, each saying goodbye to Carmody. Jenny hung back in the doorway, having already bid him farewell earlier. She would miss him. He wasn’t the love of her life, but he was a friend. A good friend, one she would never forget.

About two weeks later, Jenny and Helen found themselves in the barn on a chilly January day, bringing in the horses’ hay to the stalls that were getting cleaned out. Life had seemed to get back to normal after the festivities that temporarily brought everyone together. It seemed everyone had gotten back to their respective places of living and employment. Helen, however, noticed a change in Jenny’s demeanor. She seemed different somehow, happier perhaps, and at times, a little more preoccupied. Though she hadn’t brought it up before, Helen suspected Jenny’s manner had something to do with her friendship with Carmody. She saw enough to know there were some sparks between the two; how much, she didn’t know.

Helen couldn’t help but feel slightly reluctant to bring up the topic of romance with her sister. While it had been a while since she first broached the subject with Jenny, things didn’t end well then, and there hadn’t ever been a conclusive ending to their conversation. Jenny had run away and it took a bit for them to get things sorted. Even other times after that, Jenny had never seemed to be open about her relationships with those of the opposite sex, and though Helen had on more than one occasion tried (on an admittedly desperate attempt) to even get Tristan to scope it out and see what he could learn, he remained as mysteriously quiet as Jenny, evading the topic and never giving her a straight answer.

So Helen decided to stay on a safer topic that although wasn’t what she had in mind to talk about, she knew Jenny would be interested in. “Tristan got his orders few days ago,” she brought up nonchalantly as she carried the fresh hay into the stall.

Jenny, who had been wheeling out the old straw, stopped in her tracks. How could Helen be so casual about Tristan’s redeployment, as if mentioning what it was that they ate for breakfast, or if it was going to snow out? Jenny knew that even though whatever Helen said next would probably be ground-shattering to her, she had to stay calm or her sister would suspect something more between her and Tristan. “Where to?” she asked, putting the wheelbarrow down on its leg support.

“Doncaster, same as last time,” Helen replied, not noticing the relief that came across Jenny’s face as her younger sister was turned away from her.

Thank God, Jenny thought as she breathed a sigh of relief. “How long will he be gone?”

“Three, four months,” Helen said, spreading the hay down for the horses. “Long enough to miss the busy lambing season.”

“At least he’s not going overseas,” Jenny said, saying it for her own benefit to comfort herself more than Helen.

“It’s been nice having him here again, even if it is just four days a week,” Helen agreed. “It helps keep all the burden off of James when Siegfried’s running surgery. Or the other way around too I suppose. When Siegfried heard that Tris were going to be gone during lambing season I thought he were going to get on the phone and have them reschedule Tris’ redeployment for the summer. I don’t think Tris knows how much he’s missed…”

Jenny was listening, but slowly she turned to her own thoughts about Tristan’s leaving and focused on that instead of what Helen was talking about. He hadn’t told her, but he wasn’t obligated to. Then again, he had last time, but then it was different. At that point they were just friends. Now they were… well, Jenny wasn’t sure what they were and she wished she could sort that out in her mind. She knew what she wanted their relationship to be, and what Tristan wanted them to be back when he confessed that his feelings for her ran deeper than just a friendship, but now a few weeks had gone by and Jenny had barely seen Tristan, let alone have gotten a chance to speak to him at all.

A few months might sound and probably feel like a long time, but perhaps the separation would be good. Then she and Tristan could put that Christmas night behind them and move on in their relationship without suspicions burdening them. With him gone again, she would just have to trust that if he cared as much about her as she did him, that he would still be waiting for her once he arrived home.

“Jenny?”

She snapped out of her daydream as she heard her sister calling her. “I thought you were on a different planet,” Helen teased her, though her eyes showed a hint of concern in them. “You alright?”

Jenny nodded and smiled for Helen‘s sake. “Aye, I’m fine. I were just thinking about the last time Tristan left.”

“He’ll be fine,” Helen reassured her. “He’s not worried about it and neither should we. We’ve the hard work to do here on the farm. He gets to give lectures and boss others around all day.”

Jenny smirked as she thought of Tristan’s job down at the base. “There’s more to it I’m sure than just that,” she chuckled.

“Package for you Jenny,” their father’s voice called out from the stable doorway, interrupting their conversation. He held out a medium sized rectangular parcel wrapped in plain brown paper with her name and address written on the top of it.

“For me?” Jenny asked, at first wondering who would be sending her a package. She walked over and took it from her father, glancing over the postmark, which read London. At first her heart rate rose and her blood chilled, thinking it was from Percy, but when she saw the name and return address of the sender, she relaxed.

“Richard Carmody?” Helen said, stepping forward to look over at the parcel. She glanced at Jenny, who seemed pleased at the thought of Carmody sending her something. And so Helen found her way into the conversation she had been meaning to have with her sister, after having had to wait until the right time when it would come up naturally. That time seemed to be right then.

Jenny nodded. “Appears he sent it to me,” she said, tucking the package under her arm for safe keeping until her family was out of the way and she would have a private moment to open it by herself.

“Mr. Carmody? What does he want?” Richard asked distrustfully.

Jenny shrugged and thought of defending their friendship as just that — only a friendship — but Helen spoke up first.

“I’m sure it’s just a Christmas gift he forgot to give her,” Helen said, discreetly glancing at Jenny before confidently looking back at her dad.

“Aye,” Richard said, walking away to get back to work, the tone in his voice giving away his doubts.

After their father had disappeared out of earshot, Jenny gratefully smiled at Helen. “Thanks.”

“It’s nowt. You’re allowed to some privacy of your presents, even if it’s not a Christmas present since it’s from Carmody,” Helen dismissed it. “But between you and me, what were all that about with Richard?”

“What?” Jenny asked suspiciously, wondering how much her sister really knew about what happened that night.

“All that in the hall with Carmody when you came to say goodbye to him?” Helen clarified, leaving out the other times over the Christmas holiday that she suspected there was some romantic interest between her little sister and the research veterinarian.

Jenny looked at Helen to quickly read her face before looking away. She didn’t know that they were seen by anyone but Siegfried, though thankfully that morning they had much less to hide than they did nights earlier. “We were saying goodbye is all.”

“I noticed,” Helen said with a smug smile.

“That hug, that were nowt,” Jenny said, defending her actions. She brought the parcel over to the windowsill and put it down there for safe keeping before she walked back outside to get back to work and end the current subject of conversation.

“Didn’t look like nowt but if that’s how you feel,” Helen continued, her voice taking on a teasing tone.

Jenny more forcefully grabbed clumps of fresh hay and brought it inside the barn, spreading it in the horse’s stalls. “We’re just friends, and that’s it.”

“You go from not wanting to sit next to him at the dining table to hugging him goodbye,” Helen said thoughtfully. “It makes one wonder.”

“You can wonder all you want, but it don't change the fact that we’re not in love or anything like that,” Jenny said, turning to face her sister. “We do understand each other better now but it don’t mean we’re in love. We’re so different but at times I feel like I can read that funny little mind of his. If there were anything, and there innt, it weren’t meant to last.” She stepped outside and untied Candy from the area where she was kept while her stall was cleaned and freshened.

Helen just looked at Jenny knowingly as she brought in their younger mare Joan, the sound of the horses’ hooves the only noise that filled the barn during their silence.

”I know what it looks like, but I promise you it weren’t anything,” Jenny spoke up, trying to be convincing after a moment of companionable silence. She reached over and picked up a brush, moving it along Candy’s back.

“You going to write to him?” Helen asked as she too took a brush and started to brush Joan.

“I don’t think so,” Jenny said after a brief moment of contemplation. “Makes things seem too serious between us.”

“Would that be bad? If it means anything, I like him.”

Jenny chuckled, thinking back to Carmody’s secret proposal in the dispensary. If only Helen knew. “He wouldn’t be Dad’s first choice for a son-in-law.”

“No, he’s not Dad’s type. I got lucky he liked James!” Helen said with a playful lilt in her voice, looking over Joan and across the barn to Jenny, sharing a smirk with her sister.

“What would Dad do if he had two vets as son-in-laws?” Jenny mused, thinking, of course, about Tristan while referring to Carmody.

“He’d want double the family discount,” Helen laughed before seriously adding, “It’s going to be hard for him to let you go one day. You’re his everything; you’re his right hand man and at the same time you’re also his youngest daughter, and whether you like it or not, you are the baby of the family.”

“I can’t say I haven’t thought about it, what Dad would do by himself here if I left,” Jenny admitted. “But I’m not going anywhere, not for a while anyway.”

Helen nodded and knowingly glanced at her sister. ”I never said it before, but I’m sorry things didn’t work out between you and your friend, Percy. Truly.” She put the brush back in its spot and pet Joan on the shoulder before walking over to Jenny, who was combing through Candy’s mane. “I know it’s not easy for us to talk about love and men and romance. It’s one thing to joke about it and another to be serious. I guess it’s just hard for me to wrap me head around the fact that you’re a woman now with feelings of love in your heart. You’ll always be me little sister, but I know you’ve grown up and those feelings of love are natural. So if you want to talk about it, I promise I won’t get upset and we won’t row about it. I just want you to know I’m here for you and I’ll listen when you want to talk.”

Jenny ran her fingers through Candy’s mane as she debated talking more about her ill-fated romances. She came to the conclusion that it would be good to clear the air and free her bottled up feelings about Carmody, Percy, and perhaps, if she was feeling daring enough to talk about him, Tristan. ”I’d like that. And I promise I won’t run away this time,” she said with a smile, thinking back to her more childish way of dealing with serious matters in the past.

And at the same time, as much as Jenny was ready to open up to her sister about her past relationships, she felt a terrible sinking feeling that her friendship with Percy was going to haunt her all the rest of her days. She wanted to lay it to rest but it wouldn’t stay there. Everyone seemed to feel bad for her — did they feel all the sorrow that she was supposed to feel after a breakup of sorts and finding out that she was lied to? “You do know you don’t have to feel bad on me account,” she added. “Percy weren’t ever more than a friend.”

“Like Carmody?” Helen asked, recognizing Jenny’s tendency to pass off any potential boyfriend as only a friend when it was clear there were some undercurrents of romantic interest between them.

“Not like Carmody,” Jenny refuted. “We’re friends in a different way.”

“I thought—“ Helen started to say before she went quiet, not wanting to interrupt Jenny’s thoughts.

Jenny sighed, thinking suddenly how she should write down her whole account of her time with Percy and leave it out publicly so anyone who wanted to read it could and she could stop repeating herself. She was tired of reliving that part of her past. “That’s just it — everyone thinks too much and puts more meaning behind things are aren’t there in the first place. I went with him to the Drovers but that’s hardly a marriage proposal.”

“That is a date,” Helen pointed out as she took the brush and comb from Jenny and put them away.

“Not the way I see it,” Jenny disagreed, stepping outside and holding the door for Helen as she followed behind. “We were only friends if you even want to call it that.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to know him better,” Helen said softly, trying to keep the conversation light. “I should have tried to be more involved. Get to know those who are important to you.”

“You don’t have to,” Jenny said, shrugging it off.

“I want to, because you’re important to me,” Helen stated, putting her arm around her sister’s shoulders and pulling her into a side hug as they walked back to the house. “We used to be so close, tell each other everything. Now it’s like I hardly get to talk with you. Really talk.”

Jenny felt a lump in her throat form as her emotions bubbled to the surface. “It’s fine. You’re busy and I don’t expect you to—“

“I know you don’t expect anything, but I’m your sister. Always will be and you can’t get rid of me that easily,” Helen said with a smile. “In case you forgot, I love you Jenny.” She squeezed Jenny’s arm as she brought her closer to her.

“We’ll always be best friends,” Jenny said quietly, moving closer into her sister’s touch. “No one will ever change that or come between us.” Helen nodded in response, leaning her head against Jenny’s shoulder as they walked toward the house.

“From what you saw of Percy,” Jenny said finally after a moment of silence, returning to their original subject once the lump in her throat fully disappeared. “You didn’t like him, did you?”

Helen’s cheeks reddened a bit as she thought of something good to say. “He weren’t exactly what I expected…” she said tactfully.

“He weren’t what I expected either,” Jenny admitted. “Well, he’s exactly what I thought he’d be like, then he weren’t, then he became just like me first impression of him.”

“What were your first impression?” Helen asked, stopping at the front door of the house.

“That’s… a long story,” Jenny said with a half-hearted smile, as she absent-mindedly kicked a pebble around with her shoe.

“We’ve got time and we finished what we need to. I’ll put on a brew. I think we both deserve it,” Helen smiled, giving Jenny a final squeeze before stepping inside the house.

Jenny nodded in agreement and followed Helen inside. She knew this would be the moment of truth, her chance to get off her chest what had been lingering there for so long. She just hoped she had the courage to say what needed to be said.

Chapter Text

After both sisters had their tea in hand, sitting near the lit fireplace to warm themselves from the cold weather they had been working in all day, Helen waited for Jenny to open up more about her last boyfriend — or friend, whichever she felt more comfortable calling him. “I’m sorry I never let you talk about Percy before,” she apologized again. “I should have given him more of a chance. But I really do want to hear about him, if you want to talk about him.”

“I do,” Jenny said, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly while she stalled for time to say her words diplomatically while not abandoning the brutal honesty that she was known for. “I really haven’t ever told anyone about what he were like, or what we did, what I liked about him and what I didn’t. I guess it’s hard to talk about someone when everyone has ideas already made up in their minds about him.”

“I promise I won’t judge him,” Helen said seriously.

“He’s not that good of a person,” Jenny scoffed, causing Helen to raise an eyebrow in suspicious curiosity. “I mean, I’d judge him if I were you. Especially if he were hanging around me sister. Even if it’s annoying sometimes, I’m glad you look out for me. I have a tendency to get meself into scrapes.” She smiled and there was a twinkle in her eye that conveyed that although she sounded serious, her playful insinuation that Helen bothered her when she acted like a mother hen was not really annoying to her. At least, not all the time.

Helen smiled back at Jenny, knowing herself and how much she mothered her little sister, many times more than what was called for. “I always will. Can’t help meself.”

”I know,” Jenny said with a reassuring nod that showed that she truly didn’t mind. “I guess I’ll start at the beginning. I first met Percy at Mrs. Pumphrey’s charity ball last Boxing Day. He were with a group of other soldiers there, I guess they were all there until they got well enough to leave. He kept looking at me and when he finally came over, there were hardly anything I could do to say no to his offer of a walk around the garden. It didn’t help that the other lass I were with encouraged me to go. For morale boosting or summat like that.” She gave a half-hearted smile as she looked down into her mug. “He had plenty of morale and didn’t need me, but I didn’t know it at the time. We walked and talked for a while and when we got back inside, he kissed me.”

Helen’s eyes widened. “Did you let him?”

“I slapped him,” Jenny chuckled, recounting the rest of that fateful day with her first interaction with Percy Caldwell. “He only talked to me in the first place for a wager he had going on with his friends. Don’t tell Dad, but I placed a wager that he wouldn’t. I lost.”

“Jenny!” Helen playfully scolded her.

“I wouldn’t have told you even but that’s the reason why Percy came to Heston… or, at least, that were his excuse. He gave me some of the earnings, but I wonder now if it were some sort of bribe.” She paused and wrapped both hands around the cup of tea, holding it tighter than before, feeling the comfort from the warmth. “I didn’t want to be friends with him, but he wouldn’t leave me alone. There weren’t anything else I could do but get used to him. Every Sunday morning we’d go for a walk together and I’d show him a part of Darrowby. I didn’t mind him so much after a while; I guess he grew on me.”

“Then he took you on a date to the Drovers,” Helen said, remembering the first time she met Private Caldwell.

“That weren’t a date,” Jenny refuted again. “That were his kind of apology for not believing that I had everything under control with a lambing.”

“Oh, it’s unbelievable that someone would doubt your farming skills,” Helen chuckled.

“I do know how to handle a lambing. That time there were twins and they came through alright with a little help from me,” Jenny said proudly. “Tristan said I did fine when he came out and saw for himself what I could do.”

“Tris didn’t like Percy much either,” Helen said thoughtfully, going back to their previous topic.

“Not much, I guess. I don’t think Tris liked how Percy always seemed to steal everyone’s attention. I thought in some ways, Percy were kind of like Tris… or maybe I just wanted him to be, but he didn’t end up being anything like him,” Jenny said with a sigh.

Helen knowingly nodded. “It’s only natural for you to like someone because he reminds you of someone else who you look up to. Tris has always been like the brother we never had.”

“Sometimes…” Jenny mumbled, taking a sip of her tea to hide both a smile and her feelings she tried to keep to herself. As much as she was happy about finally opening up to her sister, telling her about Tristan and how their relationship had gone far beyond a pseudo-sibling bond was a subject of conversation for another day.

“What happened, right before he left?”

Jenny’s face turned more serious as Helen’s question redirected her thoughts away from Tristan and back to Percy. “The last night he were in town, he hadn’t even told me before that night that he were leaving for London the next day. I guess that time we went to the Drovers it were an actual date, but I didn’t want to admit it then.”

“So how were your first ever date?”

“Fine. At first.”

Jenny stopped in her narrative and Helen wondered why. “At first?” Helen repeated, getting a sense that things might not have been fine at all.

“He asked me to kiss him,” Jenny said with a shrug. “I did, but it didn’t do anything for me. It’s not like what you see at the pictures, where it’s supposed to be exciting and romantic, but it weren’t like that at all. I reckon it’s me, because he seemed to like it.”

“You kissed him? Because you wanted to that time?”

“Aye, right outside the Drovers,” Jenny said, looking pensively down into her cup. “I didn’t want to lose him, not because I loved him, but because I wanted a friend. Someone to distract me from… life. The farm, war, things like that. I thought he could fill the empty gaps in me life. I thought kissing him would give me the answer on if I really loved him. Turns out I didn’t. Don’t still.”

Jenny looked up at her sister, who was still listening attentively and so she continued. “After he brought me home, he wouldn’t leave me be. Earlier that night, he asked me to go to London with him.” She paused again, wondering if it was a mistake finally telling all, but then realizing that she was in deep enough and that it would feel good to get it off her chest, she went on. “I told him no of course, because Heston’s me home and I can’t just leave it, and I thought that would be the end of it. It weren’t.”

The beautiful night was one to remember, the two of them biking back to Heston Grange, their silhouettes outlined by moonlight. The roadway that stretched on in front of them was lit by the beams of the full moon, and hundreds of stars could be seen scattered above in the night sky. Jenny loved the breeze blowing through her hair, the feeling of freedom as she biked over the rolling hills and dales that she called home.

That night was touched by a wistful feeling, knowing it was an end to a springtime that would never be repeated. Jenny knew then that she didn’t love Percy, but she had grown to appreciate his friendship in a way she hadn’t previously thought possible. As much as she had tried not to, her heart was still set on loving Tristan, even if it was unrequited. For a fleeting moment, she pretended she was with Tristan Farnon instead of Percy Caldwell. One glance back and she was woken from her daydream.

When they arrived back at Heston Grange, Jenny wheeled her bike over and unlatched the gate, slipping the bicycle inside and starting to close the gate behind herself. Percy too dismounted his bicycle and followed her over. “I’m not going to say goodbye again,” he said, reaching his hand out to rest it on Jenny’s hand which was still clutching the partially closed gate.

Jenny was a bit surprised at his move, but she didn’t pull away from his touch. “We don’t need to,” she told him. “Once were enough.”

“The offer still stands,” Percy said, “about going to London. If you ever change your mind, I’ll be waiting. I’ll be there for you as soon as you write. No one will keep us apart. Not your father, not my famiy, not… anyone.”

The determination in his eyes caught Jenny off guard, thinking that the subject was already discussed and deliberated on enough. In her opinion the matter was settled, her mind made up and decision made clear to him earlier. “I can’t leave here,” she said, sliding her hand out from under his and pulling it back by her side. “I’m needed here.”

Percy’s eyes darted up to the house, all windows dark and devoid of light. Whether that was due only to the blackout curtains or if no lights were left on in the house, he couldn’t tell. “Your old man will survive without you,” he scoffed. “Life at Heston Grange doesn’t revolve around Jenny Alderson.”

Jenny’s eyes reflected the hurt from his words, which stung more than she wanted them to. “I’m still staying,” she said determinedly. She followed his gaze and glanced back at the house, remembering how late it had gotten, and how her father, if he was still up, was probably worried about her. “I’ve really got to go.”

Percy gave a nod, understanding that she had not weakened in her resolve. “Jenny…” he whispered as she turned to go walk back to her house.

“Percy, don’t make it harder,” she said softly, not turning to face him. “We’ve said our goodbyes.”

As Jenny walked back to the house with a firm determination in her heart not to turn back to say another drawn out and emotional farewell, she heard the gate open and the crunch of gravel underfoot.

”He followed me to the house, but I were afraid he’d wake up Dad, who I figured might not like us getting back so late, especially me with Percy, cause Dad never seemed to like Percy. At least, Dad never said much about him. I’m not even sure he knew his name,” Jenny said, bending over to pet Scruff on his head after she felt a nudge from his wet nose against her leg. “But I did know that if Dad saw me and Percy together outside, I’d be in big trouble. So it seemed the best thing to do then would be to lead Percy away from the house and try to get him to leave.” She took a deep sigh as she remembered the night’s events so clearly it was as if it happened the night before. “That probably weren’t me best idea.”

“What did he do?” Helen asked suspiciously, the color drained from her face as she started thinking the worst — a terrible secret her innocent sister had hidden for months.

Jenny glanced over her shoulder as she realized Percy was not content being left behind at the gate. “What are you doing?” she asked while she continued to walk back to the house.

“I can’t leave you like this,” Percy said with an edge of desperation in his voice. “I can’t leave for London knowing you think of me the way you do. I’m sorry I said those things about your father, but I’m not sorry for stating the truth. You don’t have to belong here. You can be more than just a farmer your whole life. You could do incredible things if you put your mind to it if you left your farm and little town to actually become someone. Do something important.”

“You just don’t understand, do you?” Jenny said, stopping in her tracks a few paces away from him and turning to face him. “The farm and all it means is important to me. This is me life, the one I were born to, the one I grew up with, the one I chose even when I had opportunities to learn summat different or go elsewhere to a city and get a job there. I chose Heston Grange because I belong here. It’s in me blood. I’m not going to give it up like it means nowt!”

“I’m only saying this because I care for you,” Percy said, stepping closer to where Jenny stood. “I want you to be happy.”

“I am happy. Here.” Jenny marched back to the house, moving a bit faster than before as if trying to get away from the man who claimed her farm and way of life as unimportant. She got to the front door and leaned her bicycle against the house, wishing Percy would just go.

Percy, however, was undeterred, her stubborn refusals only tending to spur him on further in his pursuit. “You remind me of a girl I used to know who was as passionate about her dreams as you are,” he said as he trailed along behind her. “I saw a glimpse of her when you spoke to me like that just now. That determination to be true to yourself. I admire that about you, even if I don’t agree with you staying here on the farm. At least you know what you want. That was the other girl’s downfall; she gave up too easily and took the easy way out. A pity really.”

Jenny, although unwillingly, had her curiosity piqued. “The other girl… what happened to her?”

Percy raised an eyebrow, sensing the slightest opening into staying with Jenny for just a while longer. Even if she wasn’t truly interested in the story, he was happy that she hadn’t thrown him off her property after he had so freely spoken his mind. “She had big dreams and hopes to be an actress. I first met her in a theatre… not the kind of show you’d go see, but the girl had to do something for work. Can’t blame her. Better than being on the streets. She was just a young thing, not much older than you. About my age. But that doesn’t matter anyhow. There was this man who knew he would be going off to the front soon and he wanted to make the most of his time he had left. He met her and they became fast friends. She confided in him her dreams and he found in her someone who respected him.”

”And?” Jenny asked, after Percy went strangely quiet.

Percy gave a half-hearted shrug. “Typical wartime romance. They married after only knowing each other for a few days, she gave up any prospects of making something of herself, he left. They saw each other once when he was on leave but last I’ve heard she’s still in a crummy little flat in London and gets a cheque each month, married in name only, his family won’t accept her as one of them, and she hasn’t seen her husband since before he got injured at the front. Probably better off for both of them. She wouldn’t respect him anymore, after all he did, taking away her dreams of making something of herself.” He looked down at Jenny, his eyes searching hers for the slightest sign of being moved by the story, but he found nothing discernible. “Don’t become like her Jenny. Don’t stay cooped up somewhere because you feel like you have to. You can make something of yourself and become someone.”

Jenny narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “I am someone. I’m Jenny Alderson of Heston Grange. This is the life I’ve chosen and I’m happy with it. What part of that don’t you understand?” she exclaimed in a low voice, trying her best to keep her temper under control.

Percy just smiled at her outburst. “I do love when you get determined about something. There’s this fire that lights up in your eyes. I wish I could make them light up more.”

”When you play with fire you might get burned,” Jenny reminded him, setting her jaw in a stubborn determination to stick to her beliefs.

”Oh Jenny, sometimes I forget that you are still young and sheltered from life beyond Darrowby,” he responded coyly. “You don’t realize that sometimes it’s worth a little pain to have pleasure.”

Jenny quickly turned away and started to open up the front door, deciding it best to say farewell as soon as she possibly could before things went any further. There was something brewing beneath the surface between them, causing an uneasy feeling inside of her. Percy’s last statement raised suspicions in her mind, doubts that lingered but that she couldn’t explain. There was a strange feeling of discomfort that unsettled her so.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he said softly, his demeanor quickly slipping back into the charming, smooth-talking solider that she had come to know very well. He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him.

“You have to,” Jenny whispered, not wanting to make a scene outside her front door in case it disturbed her father from his supposed slumber. He would not take kindly to the man who currently had hands on his daughter. She put her hand over the door handle, but as she backed up a step, Percy followed.

“We still have tonight,” he said enticingly. “Don’t lock me out Jenny.”

Jenny didn’t need to think twice about letting him inside the house and instead closed the front door again, leaving the two of them standing outside. “I’m not locking you out,” she said, reaching up to take his wrists in her hands and removing them from her shoulders. “I have early morning chores to get to tomorrow and I won’t be much use around here without sleep. And you have a train to catch tomorrow. We’ve had our time together and it’s over. You’ve got to accept it as it is.”

Percy’s eyes darkened at the truth she spoke. “We’ve had lots of good times together, and now that it’s up, I don’t think I can leave,” he admitted.

Jenny sighed, realizing that he wasn’t going to leave easily. “You’re going to have to,” she stated. “And keep your voice down otherwise you’ll wake me dad.” She slipped around him and grabbed the handlebars of her bicycle, rolling it away.

“Where are you going?” Percy asked curiously, surprised at her suddenly leaving him standing at her front door.

“I’m putting me bike away,” she nonchalantly called out over her shoulder.

Percy’s eyebrow raised as he was intrigued by her demeanor. He started following her again, ending up in a small area of a barn where tools were kept. He glanced around the new surroundings, breathing in the smell of hay and grass. “Cozy little spot, isn’t it?” he said with a smile, wondering if she led him there on purpose. The private barn, while rustic, was better than a house with her father inside.

“It’s not much, but it does what we need it to,” Jenny said, putting her bike in its spot against the wall. She turned to go outside but was blocked by Percy standing in the doorway, his silhouette illuminated by moonlight. She looked up at him with a forced smile that hid her frustrations and tried to get by, but he only gently grabbed her arms and walked her back farther inside the barn.

“We don’t have much time left,” Percy started, guiding her over to some bales of hay piled in the corner. He sat down on one and pulled her over until she was sitting down beside him. “I suppose it’s when it comes down to the line that a man realizes he has to say what has to be said, otherwise it’ll never be said and things that should’ve happened wouldn’t happen and then he’d forever wonder if they would’ve happened if he said what was actually on his mind.”

Jenny narrowed her eyes in confusion. “I don’t understand,” she said, standing up from her spot for only a moment before he grabbed her hands and pulled her back down to sit next to him.

“It were always when he started rambling on that I never understood what he wanted,” Jenny admitted, thinking back to the first time she met him. “Sorry Helen, I know you raised me to be cautious while still being nice, but I guess I’m a flirt without knowing it cause he thought I were leading him on. I tried to be cautious but it didn’t work. I wish I weren’t so foolish, but what I did is done. Once we were in the barn, I guess he thought I wanted him stay. Like I changed me mind and wanted him not to go after all. And maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad, but he had more on his mind than just talking…”

Chapter Text

As she looked down at her dog, Jenny could feel the scrutinizing look that Helen was giving her even before she confirmed with her own eyes that it was indeed the look Helen was staring at her with. “It’s not as bad as you think,” she said quickly, feeling a blush rising across her cheeks.

“Then you know what I’m thinking,” Helen said warily.

“It weren’t me fault!” Jenny exclaimed softly in defense.

“I never said it were,” Helen replied, keeping her calm despite the anguish inside. She knew that if Percy showed his face again she would give him a piece of her mind. “But if he so much as—“

“Let me finish telling you what happened before you jump to conclusions,” Jenny said, interrupting Helen mid-sentence.

Helen closed her mouth and stayed quiet while silently fuming. She said she wouldn’t judge Percy but she wished she could take back her words. If she knew then what she knew now, she wouldn’t have said it. Then again, Jenny said it would be alright with her if she did judge him, so she wasn’t completely in the wrong. “Go on,” she urged Jenny. “I’m listening.”

”What don’t you understand about a man in love?” Percy asked her, taking his hand and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers moved from behind her ear to tracing along her jawline. “I love you Jenny.”

“Don’t say that, please!” Jenny exclaimed in a surprised whisper, leaning back from his touch. She felt so unfaithful to Tristan at that moment that the very idea of Percy being in love with her was repulsive.

Percy’s grip on her wrist tightened so she couldn’t get away. “I have to say it, because it’s true and I won’t have another chance to tell you how I really feel. I’ve waited so long for you to give a sign that you were done playing hard to get. I’ve been more than patient with you but I’m done with our little game. You don’t have to play it anymore. No one knows we’re here. We’re safe,” he said, his voice soft but with a hint of something darker, a desired passion that bordered on an unhealthy obsession.

Jenny froze in her spot. He had taken her friendship and the feelings she had expressed earlier that night, maybe even the tears she shed due to the thought of losing him as a friend, to be romantic love. “You’re wrong,” she said, finally speaking up after her initial shock. “I weren’t playing games with you. We’re just friends. I don’t love you that way, not the way you think.”

“Stop pretending,” Percy said, leaning closer to her, his piercing blue eyes searching hers for the truth. “This is our last night together. This is what it’s been leading up to this whole time.” Without allowing her another second to respond, he pressed his mouth against hers and kissed her passionately, his arms tightening around her waist.

Jenny didn’t know what to do at first. He knew how she felt about him kissing her without permission, but the suddenness of his forceful actions seemed to temporarily paralyze her into giving in. Feelings of guilt for leading him on suppressed her own desires of running away from the situation, and for a moment, she completely gave in, closing her eyes as her hands found their way around him in an embrace.

Percy’s breaths came in gasps as he broke away from their kiss. “You are beautiful,” he murmured lovingly, his hands roaming across her shoulders and then down toward the small of her back, pulling her closer to him. He pressed kisses along her neck and back up to her lips.

Jenny closed her eyes, her body responding to the pleasurable feeling despite her initial reservations before remembering who it was who was giving her the attention that she never asked for. The thought of him doing what he wanted with her without her permission shocked her back to reality. His touch and kisses, passionate as they were, suddenly felt harsh and obsessive. She was not enjoying this display of affection, and so she decided she would not put up with it any longer, whether or not he had hurt feelings. She moved her hands to his chest, pushing on him and trying to back away. “This innt right,” she protested, trying to stand up.

The more she tried to squirm out of his grip, the more Percy tightened his hold on her, leaning her back against the wall. “Don’t try to fight it Jenny,” he said coyly. “This is what every girl wants.”

“I’m not every girl,” she declared harshly, her statement hitting harder than the next shove she gave him, freeing herself from his body that pinned her against the barn’s wall. She felt as if she were coming up for the first breath of fresh air after nearly being drowned in his unwanted passion. “I don’t like this. And if I don’t like it I shouldn’t have to do it.”

”It felt like he were surrounding me, holding me so I couldn’t get away. Anyway I moved he were there. It were then that I realized how much I disliked kissing him and having him hold me that way he were doing. I thought he’d never leave me alone and I had to do summat. I couldn’t let him think that it were what I wanted. It felt… wrong. Unfaithful,” Jenny explained.

“Unfaithful?” Helen questioned her.

Jenny tried her best to hide the blush on her cheeks. “Unfaithful, to meself,” she said, knowing that was partially true. Helen didn’t need to know about her secret crush on Tristan — not yet anyway.

Helen nodded understandingly, seemingly content with Jenny’s answer. “So he stopped? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“He stopped then, after I shoved him away and told him what I really thought. He might’ve been able to do what he wanted with other girls, and maybe those girls wouldn’t have minded it. But I didn’t like it and wouldn’t put up with it anymore. He should have known better, seeing as I slapped him first time he tried that,” she said, thinking back briefly to the time of their first meeting, when he kissed her in front of everyone without her permission. She could still picture his shocked face after she slapped him. It seemed time stood still for a moment or that the rest of the world froze, leaving only the two of them with the effects of her impulsive action. Of course, compared to the night in the barn, that was only child’s play.

Jenny had made sure to keep a few paces between herself and Percy, so he couldn’t reach out and grab her again. If she wasn’t thrilled with kissing him before, the very thought of it then was sickening. Her eyes darted around the barn, her gaze landing on the nearby pitchforks and shovels hanging on the wall that she could use in self defense if she needed to. Taking a step closer to those tools, she found even more confidence to continue to speak up for herself and her feelings. “I’ve liked you as a friend,” she said, as he was unusually speechless, stunned by her previous response. “But I don’t like you as a lover. You’re not me boyfriend and I never said you could use me like that.”

“Then what were we doing all this time?” Percy said, his voice low, standing up from his spot on the hay bale. “I’m not using you. Did you really think I’d always be around with the objective of only being friends?”

“I never asked for more,” Jenny replied, standing her ground. “I made meself very clear that I didn’t want romance. Not from you.”

“But after all those weeks, surely you changed your mind? If this isn’t what you wanted, why did you lead me here to the barn?” Percy asked, clearly confused by her motives that he thought he understood so well.

“I didn’t lead you here, you followed me!”

“You didn’t stop me.”

“You wouldn’t let me. And I were putting me bike away!”

“Likely story,” Percy scoffed, any surprise at her sudden boldness turned into irritation.

“I’ve never been anything but honest with you,” Jenny said sternly. “I’m sorry if you ever thought otherwise, but I don’t love you and never have.”

Percy took a step closer, but as he did so, Jenny stepped back again, trying to anticipate his next move. “If you’re really sorry you could make it up to me,” he said, his voice smooth and soft against the quiet surroundings. “I won’t be here after tomorrow. It’s only one night. Spend it with me and no one else will ever have to know. I can make you love me. Then you’ll see how you’re wrong. You’re just confused, probably never been in love before to know what it really feels like. And if you really don’t like it, I’ll be gone and you’ll never have to see me again.”

“I’m not confused,” Jenny said, her tone firm and sure of herself. “I know what I want and it’s not this. And if this were the way real love feels like, I reckon I’d rather do without it, but I know it’s not. It can’t be.”

“You’re in love with someone else,” Percy said quietly, his eyes darkening at the realization of her feelings that he tried to deny for so long. “If you’re so honest with me, tell me — it’s Tristan Farnon, isn’t it?”

Jenny tried to ignore the flutter in her heart as she thought of Tristan and her obvious feelings for him that she tried so hard to suppress. “I thought I loved him once,” she said simply, not wanting to let on more as he didn’t deserve to know all the details of her life.

“And you still do,” Percy said, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

Jenny suddenly felt the power dynamics shift and she gained more confidence to continue standing her ground against Percy and his unwelcome advances. “Tristan innt in love with me, so there’s nowt between us. But that’s not why I don’t want you kissing me. It’s not that you aren’t good,” she said, trying to make him feel better, a sense of guilt bothering her conscience. “You’re probably just what some girls want, but I’m not that kind of girl. I’m just a farmer, and you can’t seem to accept me for who I am. You want to change me into someone I’m not, to make me love you when I don’t. We’re friends and I don’t mind us being friends but I will mind if you keep up what you’re doing. So don’t ruin it Percy. Go while I still like you just a little before I don’t like you anymore at all.”

Percy opened his mouth as if to say something more, but then he closed it, his jaw set with determination. He strode over to the door that was only cracked open a little bit and pushed it open the rest of the way. “So we’re friends are we?” he said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Jenny hesitated but then nodded in agreement, despite her reservations she now had since his sudden display of affection, if it could rightly be called ‘affection’. “We can try to be,” she said, her voice so quiet it was hard to hear even in the silent summer night.

“Even after tonight?” he asked, more than a little surprised at her willingness to forgive.

“I’ll try me best to forget it happened, but don’t press your luck and try it again,” Jenny said, standing still in the barn.

Percy gave a curt nod. “I’ll go now. It’s probably best for both of us. Thanks again… for tonight and all the days you put up with me.”

“It’s nowt,” Jenny said nonchalantly. “For what it’s worth, I liked it while it lasted.”

“But it’s over now,” Percy said hesitantly, gaging her response before he continued. “I gave you opportunities Jenny. You better not later on regret letting them slip by. I can’t help but feel you’re like a bird that has the opportunity to fly out of its cage but decides to stay because it feels safe in its prison whereas most birds would take the first chance they had at freedom.”

Jenny stiffened at his words. “Aye, but this bird sees the cat lurking around the corner waiting to pounce,” she said, her words clipped and tone cool.

Percy sighed, taking a hint that his opportunity and chance for loving her was most definitely over. “Good night Jenny.”

“Night,” she called out as he walked away. She continued to stay in the same spot in the barn as he left, standing still until she had made sure that he was not coming back. After a few minutes, her mind still trying to understand what just went on and replaying over and over again their conversation and his love making, finally she was able to move. She walked in a daze of disbelief at what had happened, making her way back to the house and slipping inside without anyone witness to their evening tryst.

“And he didn’t try anything after that?” Helen asked.

Jenny shook her head, her relief evident in her facial expression. “He went back to London. He promised to write me and he did. I wrote back to him but never heard back,” she said. She took a sip of her tea and then added, “He’s married now.”

Helen looked a bit surprised at the news. “That were fast,” she said.

“He don’t waste time,” Jenny said with a smirk, deciding then to leave out the part about Percy’s son, which if Helen did the math, she would have to know that he had been married the whole time, or in a more bohemian lifestyle, kept a woman on the side.

“I’m glad you were alright,” Helen said with a sigh. “If ever he comes around again, or if you meet another man who’s pushy, you tell me or Dad. We’re here for you.”

“I know. Thank you,” Jenny said with a grateful smile. “I never wanted to make a fuss about it. I mean, I couldn't help but think afterward maybe I were wrong in pushing him away. Maybe I did lead him on, even if I didn't mean to. I never meant to hurt him.”

"You did the right thing Jenny," Helen reassured her. "No one has the right to force summat on you that you're not comfortable with. Why didn't you tell me before he were pushing you to give into him? Dad and I would've made sure he wouldn't have bothered you."

"He hadn’t tried anything before that night. And after that he left for London and didn’t come back and… I... I weren't sure if that's just what's expected, what comes with... you know... a date," Jenny said softly, her voice lowering to a whisper. Her mind was made up that very same night when she decided not to mention what had happened to anyone, up until this point, and she felt justified in her silence.

She hadn’t wanted to tell her father, as he would probably never give her the same amount of freedom that she had then to be with a man, alone. Telling Helen meant possibly having her sister overreact and also being warned against men and how she shouldn’t have let her guard down as much she did. And telling Tristan was out of the question. He too was a man like Percy, a man with desires of his own. Jenny wasn’t quite sure, but if those desires were made manifest on a date, then she would surely disappoint Tristan if she expressed to him her dislike of doing whatever it was that Percy had in mind. How far he would have gone, she wasn’t sure, but she was glad that she didn’t have to find out.

Helen shook her head, her eyes trying to read Jenny's expression which appeared to be a mixture of genuine concern and shame. "He were asking for more than what anyone has a right to give. You didn’t love him and you made that clear to him. He's not entitled to what's not his, and that includes you."

"He gave up so much for his country. Later on I felt bad I didn't give him what he wanted, even if I didn't love him,” Jenny admitted.

"Don't. You hear me?” Helen took Jenny’s hands in her own and looked her in the eye. “Don’t feel bad. Even if you did love him, love isn't just about romance and love making. It's about caring for someone deeply, whether they're a partner or a friend. Sometimes the strongest love is the one that allows you to be who you are without asking for anything in return. When the time's right, with the right man, you'll know. That side of love is incredible, but only when you both are ready to give to each other. It's about giving, not taking."

Jenny looked down at Helen’s hands which cupped her own, squeezing them in a comforting manner. She broke her gaze to look back up at Helen, whose eyes told her own story of concern for her and wisdom on those more sensitive romantic matters. “Thanks,” she managed to mumble.

Helen nodded and gave Jenny’s hands a final squeeze before standing up from her seat. She brought her cup over to the kitchen sink and gazed out the window before glancing over her shoulder at her sister. “I think I’ll go check on Dad and see how he and Jimmy are getting along.” Jenny made a motion to get up as well. “Don’t bother, you have a parcel to open, remember?”

Jenny looked over at the package from Carmody and she wondered what possibly it could be. “It could wait,” she offered.

“It could, but aren’t you dying to know what’s inside?” Helen teased.

Jenny grinned and reached over for it in a silent agreement with her sister. “Thanks again Helen. For everything.”

“I’m your sister Jenny,” Helen said, stepping closer to hug her. “I’m here for you. Always.”

After Helen had gone outside, Jenny let out a sigh of relief. As good as it felt to get off her chest the night that had been kept a secret for so long, it was at the same time emotionally exhausting to relive it all over again. Her guilty feeling of letting Percy down was now gone, and it lifted a weighted burden off her heart. Now she could focus on other things, such as the mysterious package from Carmody. Peeling off the brown paper wrapping, there was a book that could only have come from him. The book’s engraved title was just what she was interested in, and he knew it. Veterinary Notes for Horse Owners.

Opening up the note that was nearly tucked inside the book, she read it over.

Dear Miss Alderson, Jenny,

I hope you don’t think it presumptuous of me to send you this book. My studies were focused on equines, and finding you to be a fellow horse enthusiast who enjoys learning more about these fascinating animals, I thought of you when coming across this book.

Although originally published in 1877, this is the most recent edition from 1938. I hope you are able to find it helpful in your work with your horses.

Many well wishes to both you and your family.

Sincerely,
Richard Carmody

Dear Richard,

I couldn’t think anything but good things about you, knowing your intentions are completely honorable. I love the book and will always keep it as a token of our friendship.

Friends need to be honest with each other, and the last time I saw you, I should’ve come clean. You asked if I was in love with Tristan and I tried to avoid the answer.

The truth is, I am. Just thinking about him makes my pulse rise and my eyes dilate and all those other signs you talked about. I had to tell you because you understand and in a way, already knew. Your guesses are more than just theories — you’re right!

I haven’t told my family yet about my feelings for Tristan and I’m not sure if I should. It’s funny how the only way I can say I love him is through writing it down. Is that part of the wanting to pair bond symptoms too? I’ve got to break this habit. Tris and I aren’t doing anything serious about it yet but I hope that he will come around to the idea of us being together as more than just friends not just when we’re together by ourselves but also when we’re with our family and friends. I originally told him we should wait but part of me wonders if I should have just let him love me when he wanted me. It might have been nice to have him, even if it was just for a month and then he gets tired of me.

But then again, if we continue to wait and he still thinks he might love me, then I know I can trust him to be faithful to me. I hope I did the right thing. Who knows, maybe next Christmas I’ll be kissing him under the mistletoe instead of you! Sorry, I can picture you blushing so just forget I wrote that? It’s too long of a letter for me to rewrite this and I’m running out of time since Dad has a fence project he needs help with.

If you could just keep what you know about Tristan and me a secret, I’d be forever grateful to you and would gladly do the same for you if you ever get back with Doris or find some London lass you fall in love with.

Take care of yourself!

Love
(as between friends, not the pair bonding type),
Jenny

When Richard received Jenny’s letter, he couldn’t help but smile. He had made an unlikely friend with the farm girl and she trusted him with her hopes and dreams, the secrets she kept close, and the gentle teasing with which she wrote. He’d faithfully keep her secrets to himself and wouldn’t even tell Tristan.

Though the factual evidence of pair bonds was still ingrained in his mind, Jenny opened up a whole new field of research of the ins and outs of love. Love not so much as a straightforward, black and white feeling, but a feeling with various intensities and facets to it that were like uncharted waters. Richard decided he would never learn all there was to learn about love between humans, so he’d stick to animal pair bonds.

Deep down, Richard felt a bittersweet feeling he had never known before. Though he couldn’t ignore the initial relief he felt when Jenny turned down his marriage proposal, getting to keep the way of life that had become so comfortable to him, he now felt something akin to a sense of loss. He thought it strange at first. After all, he had not lost anything he had, and in fact, gained a friendship with Jenny. But perhaps it was the loss of a dream that lasted only half a day, one that left as quickly as it came with only a trace of a memory. It was a dream that promised a family of his own in a small town that had become the home he had always longed for, even if he didn’t know it at the time. It would be starting fresh with all the comforts of familiarity and routine that he thrived on. But like all dreams, reality awakens one, and the dream is fleeting.

Still, there was no denying that his dynamic with Jenny had changed. They lived in separate worlds so far apart and their worlds would rarely collide with him in London and her in Darrowby. But when they did, much like the sun and the moon that cross paths once in a great while, if only for a brief moment, something extraordinary happens that cannot go unnoticed before all goes back to normal. Jenny and Richard’s ‘eclipse’ had passed, but their new ‘normal’ would be the friendship they cultivated that night at Skeldale. Richard knew that he had never before met anyone like Jenny, nor did he believe that he would ever find another Jenny Alderson.

He resolved to put aside any entanglements he had in his brush with romance and focus on his work. He would get over the feeling that gnawed at his heart by concentrating fully on his research work, which was truly a fulfilling job. Richard knew he had no right to ask for more and so he would find contentment with what he had. At the same time, he hoped his friend Jenny would find her happiness and love with whoever could reciprocate it, and if that person happened to be Tristan, he would be glad for them both.

Chapter Text

January and February slipped by quickly for both the farmers and the veterinarians. Their cold January turned into a relatively mild and dry first couple of months of the new year. And with the new year came new life, the start of the cycle repeating itself again, a flicker of hope of spring returning hastily after the winter. Soon the countryside, previously drab from the grey of winter, started returning to life, grass and flowers pushing through the cold ground and coloring the hills and dales once again in shades of light green and buttery yellow. Birds began singing their appreciation of the days that were slowly yet steadily growing longer, fluttering about trying to impress a potential partner, while in the meadows and on the farms, spring presented itself with the gift of little lambs dotting the landscape.

Lambing season was again upon the vets who went out day after day on farm calls, rushing to assist with troublesome births. It kept them all very busy, but not too busy to notice that the Daffodil Ball (which had been absent for the last couple of years because of the war and the rationing that went hand in hand with it), had been reinstated by the local Women’s Institute, the good ladies of the organization deciding it would be beneficial both for the townspeople’s morale and for supporting the war effort. It was a good excuse to get the people’s minds off their troubles and their work, if only for a couple of hours.

The buzz of excitement filled the air of Skeldale House when Tristan caught word of the ball. With yellow tickets in hand, he bounded into the kitchen, where the Herriots were already seated and Mrs. Hall was cooking breakfast. Before he took his seat he waved the yellow tickets in front of James’ face, causing him to lean back in his chair. “I just heard from Alice that the Women’s Institute is hosting the Daffodil Ball again! Why didn’t you tell me?”

James smiled good-naturedly at his best friend’s enthusiasm. “Because you’d be acting like this.”

“You are going to go — you have to go!” Tristan said with a lopsided grin. “How long has it been since we’ve all gone to the Daffodil Ball together?”

James looked over at his wife. “Since ‘38?”

“I think so,” she agreed.

“I took it upon myself to get both of you tickets,” Tristan said, passing James the two tickets. “As for Siegfried, I’ll leave it to him to decide how many he wants.”

“How many I want of what?” Siegfried asked, striding into the kitchen. He had an inkling that Tristan had plans for him that involved spending his hard-earned money. Or knowing Tristan, perhaps the money was already spent.

“Tickets for the Daffodil Ball,” Tristan explained, holding up his tickets.

“Is that on again?” Siegfried asked, pausing to affectionately ruffle Jimmy’s hair before sitting down at the head of the table.

“Yes and we’re all going. But you have to buy your own tickets,” Tristan said, remembering to quickly add the part about each man buying his own, despite the fact that he bought James and Helen tickets. He supposed he owed them for something at some point anyway which would only help to partially cancel out the debt that was so easily accumulated.

Siegfried raised an eyebrow as he picked up his newspaper. “‘Tickets?’ Why would I need two?”

Tristan snuck a look over at Mrs. Hall. “For your date.” He resisted gesturing in Mrs. Hall’s direction but his eyes darted in between his brother and their housekeeper, hoping Siegfried would understand his subtle hint.

“Who would I take? I’m not even seeing anyone right now,” Siegfried said casually, unfolding his paper and glancing over the headlines.

Tristan sighed, realizing that Siegfried did not get the point. Sometimes his brother could be so insufferably oblivious. “I don’t have a girlfriend either, but I still bought two tickets,” he pointed out, even though he secretly knew who he was going to ask. Reaching over, he partially pulled down the top half of the newspaper so he didn’t have to share Siegfried’s attention. “Come on Siegfried, it’s for a good cause!”

Siegfried didn’t try to hide his annoyance and noisily fluttered his paper in the air to straighten it out again. “Yes, well, I’ll think about it,” he said before taking a bite of the scrambled eggs that Mrs. Hall placed before him.

Jimmy looked across the table at Siegfried with hope filling his eyes. “Can I go?” he asked.

The tension at the table disappeared as the adults tried to cover over their laughter. Audrey put her hands on the toddler’s shoulders and leaned down to whisper in his ear, “You’ll stay here with me.”

“Aud, you don’t have to,” Helen said. “You deserve some fun too.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Audrey reassured her. “Jimmy and I will have a grand time together.”

Tristan and Helen glanced at each other, both knowing that their undiscussed yet mutually agreed upon secret plan of having Siegfried take Audrey would not be possible if she stayed at home with Jimmy. But before either one could object further, Audrey changed the subject and asked, “And who do you have in mind to be your date Tris?”

Tristan smiled knowingly. “I haven’t asked anyone yet. There’s always Maggie,” he said thoughtfully, feigning interest in his good friend as a cover up for who he really wanted to ask. He knew he couldn’t blatantly state the fact that he was going to take Jenny. It would be too much of a shock all at once. He decided he would have to introduce the idea gradually if they all would accept it, and then once they accepted that he would escort her to a ball, they might just come around to the idea that he and Jenny might have a future together as being more than just friends.

Helen looked up at Audrey and the two women shared a slightly concerned gaze. “Maggie is still married to Arthur…” Helen reminded him.

“How about Edith Rudd?” James suggested.

Tristan wrinkled his nose as he thought of what to say. “Nothing against Edith, but she’s not my type.”

“Not one for farm girls?” Helen asked with a laugh.

“It’s not that—“ Tristan responded immediately, not wanting Helen to get the wrong idea.

“He spent the last Daffodil Ball with Anabel Dinsdale for the entire evening,” Siegfried piped in, barely looking up over his paper.

Siegfried’s comment did little more than cause a sight reddening to Tristan’s face before he quickly continued the conversation, steering it away from his romantic pursuit and one night tryst with Anabel. “I’d take your sister if she didn’t have anyone else to go with,” he blurted out as he looked at Helen and braced for her reaction. So much for gradually getting her used to the idea… he thought to himself.

Helen was giving Jimmy a slice of buttered toast but held it midair as she tried to process the idea of Tristan taking her little sister to a dance. “Jenny?”

“I mean, I would if only to prove to you that I don’t have anything against farmers,” Tristan said.

“But our Jenny?” Helen asked again, in slight disbelief as she passed the toast to Jimmy, who eagerly took it from her.

“Give me a good reason why I shouldn’t,” Tristan said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. Now that he had said it and gotten it off his chest, he felt better and stronger in his resolve.

“Jenny’s only eighteen. She’s too young to be going to the Daffodil Ball,” Helen pointed out. “Besides, it’s not her cup of tea.”

“She wouldn’t like to hear you say that,” Audrey mused, leaning back against the counter.

“There’s a lot of things that Jenny don’t like, but that’s life,” Helen replied.

“Eighteen is plenty old for balls and dances,” Tristan argued.

“I don’t even think she knows how to dance,” Helen retorted.

“It’s about time she learned,” Siegfried interjected, placing his newspaper down on the table next to his plate.

Tristan looked over at Siegfried with an expression of surprise, but accepted his brother’s point more appreciatively. He couldn’t help but have a slightly smug smile on his face as he added, “There is that.”

“And I’m saying that she doesn’t like parties. She told me so,” Helen said, stubbornly refusing to let Tristan have the final say. She knew what Jenny went through at Mrs. Pumphrey’s ball with the soldiers there and how that led to more problems. She didn’t want Jenny to have to deal with that all over again. And then there was the matter of Carmody. Helen believed there was something more between her sister and Carmody than either of them was letting on.

“She’s never been to the Daffodil Ball,” Tristan said, his renewed confidence urging him on to continue. “So how do you know she won’t like it?”He raised an eyebrow as he looked pointedly at Helen before digging into his breakfast.

Helen sighed. “Even if you asked her, what if she didn’t want to go because it’s with you?”

Tristan dropped his fork down on his plate with a clang as the realization hit him. “Are you saying you’re not against your sister going in general, but more that you’re against her going with… me?”

“Maybe she’s already interested in a lad and he wouldn’t ask her if you did first,” Helen pointed out. “Or if she’s in a long-distance relationship and doesn’t want to step out with you in fear of being unfaithful to someone else.”

“And who would that be?” Tristan questioned her, half wondering where Helen came up with that theory and the other half of him wondering if she was right and knew something he didn’t after the many weeks he had stayed away from Jenny due to their agreed upon separation.

James looked back and forth from Helen to Tristan and then back to Helen again, feeling like he was missing an important piece of the conversation. “You mean that solider that she dated last year? Is he still her boyfriend?” he asked, the question entirely innocent.

“Caldwell? No!” Tristan said quickly, laughing off the very idea of it. “She said he was never her boyfriend and besides, he’s back in London now, and married so that’s the end of that story.” He was going to continue but felt the suspicious gaze of Helen from across the table. Her look was enough to stop the conversation, so he did the safe thing and stopped talking, sliding down in his chair ever so slightly and slowly biting into his toast, staring back at Helen, as if daring her to say something.

Helen just looked at Tristan with a wary gaze, as if by staring at him long enough she would be able to read his mind. How did he seem to know so much about Jenny’s relationship with Percy when Jenny had been secretive about it for so long? she wondered.

Siegfried, feeling like they were all having a discussion that was supposed to be on one topic but had many different meanings to each person, decided to put an end to the current topic of conversation, which had turned into some kind of debate. “In all seriousness Helen, you have nothing to worry about. My little brother is all talk and will surely find someone else to take.”

“You don’t believe me?” Tristan asked incredulously, giving Siegfried a side glance that showed his disbelief at his brother’s betrayal of loyal and faith in him. “Just for that, I am going to ask her.”

James, Siegfried, and Audrey quietly watched as Tristan and Helen were both stubbornly staring at each other, as if daring the other to speak first. The tension in the air felt thick as no one attempted to say the next word.

Tristan broke the silence first. “I’m going to do it,” he said with a determined nod, pushing out his chair from the table. “I’m going to call her right now.” He started walking out of the kitchen to go to the phone in the hall.

“How do you think you’ll do that?” Helen called out after him.

“With a phone, how else?” Tristan answered her, stating the obvious.

“In case you forgot, there’s no phone up at Heston,” Helen reminded him as a smirk flickered across her face. “But… if you’re heading that way this morning you could offer me a ride up there,” she offered as a truce, though her true intentions weren’t so forgiving as they seemed. She was secretly wanting a chance to speak with him without the rest of their family privy to their conversation. And if he was driving he couldn’t just get up and walk away.

Chapter Text

As Tristan drove his way up to Heston Grange, his hands tightly gripping the steering wheel of the Vauxhall, he felt the tenseness in the air, the silence deafening. Helen didn’t say anything, but he knew she was thinking of the right time to vent whatever was on her mind — at that moment, it was most likely about him asking Jenny to the Daffodil Ball. In an attempt to bring an end to the all-encompassing quiet that separated them, Tristan barely cleared his throat, causing Helen, who had been gazing out the window, to whip around and stare at him. Mustering his courage before she expressed herself, he asked, “Am I right in guessing the reason why Jimmy’s with Mrs. H today is because you have something to say to me in private without little ears listening?”

“What makes you think that you know Jenny better than I do?” Helen asked sharply, deciding to get right to the point.

“Here we go…” Tristan mumbled, almost rolling his eyes in exasperation.

“You talk about her like you know everything that happens in her life. How do you know so much about Percy and if Jenny loved him or not?”

“I have eyes, don’t I?” Tristan sighed. “I was at the Drovers when they were there together. I saw how she wasn’t crazy for him. And… she also told me?”

Helen turned back to look outside at the passing scenery. “She only just talked to me about him a few weeks back.”

“And that bothers you?”

“If you were me, wouldn’t it bother you? She’s me sister, we’re supposed to talk!” Helen exclaimed. She then added in a much softer tone, “We always used to.”

“Maybe it’s just easier talking about it to someone who’s not family,” Tristan suggested.

“You might not be a blood relative, but you’re like a brother to her,” Helen pointed out.

“Am I?” Tristan said with a half-hearted chuckle, an amused smile playing on his face as he held back revealing to Helen the truth of Jenny’s feelings for him. He knew if he let that slip, it would be too much for Helen to take in all at once, so that discussion would be one for another day, preferably not taking place in a car where he couldn’t physically defend himself. “If I’m the brother you think she thinks I am, then why are you so determined to make sure I won’t be the one asking her out?”

“It’s not just you. It’s that she doesn’t want a date,” Helen explained.

“And who do you think you are to decide for Jenny where she goes and who she can love?” Tristan stopped at the word ‘love’ and subtly glanced at Helen, who didn’t seem to pick up on anything more than his words being just a generic question and not specifically tied to anyone in particular. “Isn’t that for her to decide?”

“It’s not that I want to. It’s if I don’t, she gets in trouble. She needs guidance,” Helen grumbled.

“Some guidance, maybe. But you can’t be living her life for her,” Tristan said, focusing on the road and not paying attention to Helen’s glares. “You’ve got to let her live and that includes letting her make her own mistakes. There’s a limit to how much you can control her life without her resenting you for it. I know you want to protect her, but there’s a big difference between coddling and smothering.”

Helen’s eyes reflected the hurt that Tristan’s words caused her, but he was too focused on driving that he didn’t glance over and notice. “Are you saying I worry too much and that I’m smothering all the life out of her?”

“I’m just saying that you’re overthinking things,” Tristan said, shaking his head in disapproval. “And maybe that’s because you’ve mothered her since your mum died. You were practically a girl then yourself so of course Jenny’s going to always seem like a little girl to you because you’ve been both a sister and a mum to her. But the thing is that Jenny doesn’t need anyone to tell her what to do. She’s a smart girl who is going to do whatever she puts her mind to. The only thing stopping her is one limitation… and that’s you. She looks up to you, thinks the world of you. But that’s her downfall. She’ll do anything you tell her to, but if you keep stopping her from experiencing life, how will she ever learn to do what she wants to do? She’s only going to be doing what you want her to do because she wants to make you happy.”

Helen’s face paled at Tristan’s words, which struck a chord. She hated to admit that he had made a good point. His words were undeniably spoken with authority, like he had used his own prior experience as a younger sibling partially raised by an older sibling to reflect on. But even Helen had to come to the conclusion (even if her admission was only to herself) that his life and Jenny’s, though different in many ways, overlapped in some similarities.

There was no denying that Jenny was always willing to do whatever her sister told her to do. Helen thought back to how she told Jenny to widen out her horizons and not to be set in her ways with making farming her life career at such a young age with her whole life in front of her. Then, just two years later, when Jenny remembered her advice and wanted to spread her wings and try city life, she had stopped her younger sister from doing just that. Still, Helen had concerns. “I don’t want to stop her from being herself, but I know what happened when I weren’t involved enough and I won’t let it happen again.”

“What happened?” Tristan asked.

Helen shook her head. “I shouldn’t be telling you,” she said hesitantly, wondering how much she should tell him without going into the story too deeply.

Tristan raised an eyebrow at the cliffhanger Helen gave him. Now that she had started, he wasn’t going to let her off the hook so easily. “I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

“Like that will make it all better?” Helen asked rhetorically. “What happened is Jenny went to a party unchaperoned, she comes back with a solider boyfriend who’s just been discharged and the night before he leaves, he almost takes advantage of her.”

Tristan’s jaw dropped open in shock before he closed his mouth and clenched his jaw in irritation. His gut feeling of following Percy and Jenny that night was right, but he had foolishly ignored it, almost at the cost of Jenny’s innocence. He felt he understood Helen’s trepidations a little bit better, but at the same time, also felt a bit self-conscious and hurt that she thought (or at least alluded to) him as being the same kind of man as Percy. “That Caldwell…” he grumbled through gritted teeth, all his precious disdain for the perpetual liar bubbling to the surface yet again. “Helen, I hope you know I’m nothing like him. I would never hurt Jenny, honest and truly. I swear!” He raised his right hand and looked at her, almost driving off the road as it curved.

Helen swiftly leaned over and grabbed the steering wheel, causing Tristan to regain his focus on driving. “I know you’re not, but it’s not to say that there aren’t other men who will be at the ball who will do the same thing and try the same tricks Percy tried.”

Tristan tightened his grip on the steering wheel and kept his eyes on the road, allowing Helen to warily let go of it. “I’ll be there, with her constantly. I promise I won’t let anyone bother her. I’ll keep my eye on her the whole time, and you and Jim will be there too. You two can keep an eye on me keeping an eye on Jenny,” he said seriously.

“I’m still not sure it’s a good idea…” Helen said, trailing off.

“What I said before,” Tristan said, after a brief interlude of silence. “I still mean it. Jenny’s got to live life for herself. She’s going to make her own decisions, and that means sometimes she’s going to make mistakes. You can’t stop her from living. But you as her sister, you’ve got to support her where you can. I’m going to ask her to come with me, and if she accepts, can you just please be happy about it? We’ll all be there together but she’ll still be allowed some freedom of her own.”

Helen sat quietly before giving into his deal. “As long as you make sure you don’t let her out of your sight!” she said, turning to him and poking his arm as she talked.

“I promise,” Tristan said with a confirming nod of his head.

Up at Heston Grange, the Aldersons had their hands full working with a herd of sheep, moving them from one pasture to the next. Richard was leaving on a trip to visit his brother the following week, and though his time away fell during the busy lambing season, he would only be gone one week. Jenny had told him that she’d keep things under control and that she didn’t want anyone to stay with her. Against his better judgement, Richard decided not to argue with her, but he still had his doubts that she would be able to manage everything on her own. He kept these thoughts to himself so as not to dampen her eager spirit.

To make up for the time he’d lose at his farm the following week, Richard was working twice as hard to make sure he had everything in place. “Jenny, it’s time to clean out that barn before we move some of these inside later on,” he commented.

“I’ve got it Dad,” Jenny answered him, placing her hands in her pockets and determinedly walking off to the barn. She picked up the shovel and started mucking out the old hay to clean and freshen the barn for the expectant mothers and their lambs. While cleaning, she heard the sound of her sister’s voice drifting into the barn from outside, which alerted her that help had arrived. She was never one to admit it, not before she would have a week on the farm by herself for the first time in her life (after much persuasion), but she was grateful for the extra set of hands, and she hoped Helen would stop by often in the upcoming week. Though she said she could take care of the farm by herself just like a lot of other strong Dales women farmers, Jenny was starting to have feelings of self-doubt, feelings she would never let on to others.

“I thought I’d find you in here,” Tristan said from the doorway of the barn, interrupting her thoughts and catching her by surprise.

She turned to see him casually leaning against the frame of the doorway, the sun backlighting his silhouette. After not seeing him for weeks, it took all she had in her not to show her enthusiasm at his sudden appearance. “You could make some noise so I know you’re there,” Jenny said, the words sounding so plain and unromantic compared to the thoughts that bounced around in her mind as she often daydreamed what she’d say to him after their abstinence of seeing each other.

“Sorry,” Tristan apologized, pushing a wheelbarrow closer to her as he tried to be helpful.

“I’ll forgive you this once,” Jenny said with a smirk. “What are you doing here? Come to help me clean the barn?” she asked, holding out the shovel for him to take.

Tristan stepped back, putting up his hands in defense against the hard work she was offering him. “Oh no, not that!”

“What then?” Jenny asked curiously, leaning against the shovel that she pushed into the ground.

“I was wondering if you have any plans next Saturday night?” Tristan asked nonchalantly.

Jenny shook her head. “I’m here because Dad’s going to see his brother and family. They’re the ones down in Addingham I told you about once.”

“You’ll be here on the farm all by yourself?” Tristan asked with a hint of worry in his voice, his brow furrowing in apparent concern.

“You don’t think I can handle things by meself?” Jenny said, her determination to be self-sufficient shining through in her words.

“No, it’s just, well anyway, I was asking because I have an extra ticket to the Daffodil Ball and was wondering if you’d go with me,” Tristan said, pulling the ticket out of his pocket and holding it out for her to take.

“The Daffodil Ball?” Jenny said thoughtfully, leaning the shovel against the side of the barn and taking the ticket in her hands. “This is me you’re talking to, remember? Jenny Alderson, the farmer lass who doesn’t know how to act at parties and ends up slapping the ones who’s trying to be friendly. You want to take me?”

“There isn’t anyone else I’d rather take,” Tristan said, quickly glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one else was around. His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “You don’t know the lengths I had to take to make sure no one was suspicious about you and me.”

Jenny’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “The way you say ‘you and me’ makes it sound like we’re an item.”

“We’re not,” Tristan reassured her. “Yet. Not officially.”

Jenny raised an eyebrow. He was still implying that they were something more than just friends. Or at least, on their way to being something together. “Would this be considered a date?” she asked, tapping the ticket.

“Call it a prelude to a date?” Tristan said with a shrug. “Helen doesn’t think I’d be serious about you and isn’t too keen on the idea of us going together so we’d have to pretend we don’t really care about each other. Not romantically at least.”

“Oh because lord knows we don’t care,” Jenny said, playfully rolling her eyes.

Tristan stepped closer to her. “If you don’t want to go—“

“Whatever gave you that impression?” Jenny asked, hastily putting the ticket in the pocket of her dungarees before he could grab it away from her.

The sound of approaching footsteps made Tristan look behind him. “We’ll go with Jim and Helen, so I’ll pick you up at six?” he asked quickly, wanting to finish their conversation before they got interrupted.

“It’s a—“ Jenny said, stopping before she added the word ‘date’ in. “It’s a plan.”

Chapter Text

The night of the Daffodil Ball soon arrived and at six o’clock in the evening in the driveway of Heston Grange, so did Tristan. He had gotten a ride with the Herriots so as to conserve petrol, but he had a sneaking suspicion that Helen either wanted to make sure he did go to pick up her sister and follow through on his promise so as not to disappoint Jenny, or so she could make sure he treated Jenny in a manner worthy of a gentleman. Either way, Tristan made sure not to disappoint anyone, expect for perhaps himself, as he would much rather have taken Jenny by himself to have a moment alone with her before sharing her with the general public. He missed their time together, their interactions now mostly stolen glances at the farm or a quick greeting when she stopped by at Skeldale to pick something up. He longed to have one more July afternoon like the last time he had Jenny all to himself. He didn’t realize then how lucky he had been.

Tristan walked up to the door of the house with a skip in his step and lightly knocked, though he hadn’t long to wait before Jenny opened it up. “Hello,” she said, her voice bordering on a coy tone.

“Hello,” Tristan replied, allowing his gaze to quickly drift up and down her, taking in her appearance. In addition to her inner beauty and spirited personality, physically Jenny was undeniably a pretty girl even when she was in her work clothes, but when she got herself dressed up for a party, he couldn’t help but stare. She looked absolutely beautiful, which made him wish even more than ever before that this was a real date, even though he knew it couldn’t be any more than what they had previously agreed to.

They stood still for a moment as they gazed into each other’s eyes, neither daring to speak a word. Then Tristan remembered they weren’t alone, that they should get going before James and Helen wondered why they were delayed. “You look…” he started to say, searching for the right word that could perfectly express his thoughts before remembering that not only were the Herriots undoubtedly watching them, but that they could also be listening to their conversation. “You look nice. More than nice, actually. Beautiful. Truly.”

Jenny, in a moment of shyness in front of Tristan that she hadn’t felt around him in months, dropped her gaze down to her feet. “You look nice too,” she said, smiling as she stepped next to him. “You and I are going to have to behave ourselves,” she said quietly as they walked back to the car, noticing her sister carefully watching them both.

“It’s hard when I’m with someone so beautiful, but I’ll try,” Tristan said softly as he leaned over to open up the door to the car.

“Flirt,” Jenny whispered in his ear as she got in the backseat, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

On the ride to the ball, the talk in the car was kept mainly to the weather, ewes and their lambs, managing a farm alone, veterinary work, and Doncaster. There was not a peep about Tristan and Jenny’s relationship, for which all four were equally grateful.

Soon they arrived back in the town of Darrowby and drove to the building where the Daffodil Ball was being held. Though dark on the outside due to the ongoing blackout restrictions, the inside was aglow with lanterns and soft lights, the sound of a piano being played with the accompaniment of trumpets, clarinets, and the soft beat of drums filling the room.

Having never been to such a formal event before, Jenny could hardly believe her eyes. She walked next to Tristan, not holding his arm as her sister did with James, but instead staying close to his side as she took in the sight of the transformed room, her eyes darting around her surroundings as if by her wide-eye glances she could soak it into her memory for all time. There were so many people dancing, talking, drinking, and having a good time. If she wanted to she could almost imagine it wasn’t 1943 with a war on.

“You look like you’ve never seen a party before,” Tristan’s teasing snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Not like this one,” Jenny commented. “When I was younger Helen used to tell me about the parties and balls Hugh would take her to and I’d imagine what it would be like to be there. I guess I knew someday I’d get to see one with me own eyes but with the war it almost didn’t seem possible anymore somehow.”

“You have a lot to catch up on,” Tristan said, gently nudging her side.

Helen stepped in place beside her sister. “Look, there’s Siegfried!” She waved at him and he gave her a nod in response.

Jenny scanned the area for who she assumed would be with Siegfried. “Where’s Audrey?” she asked, not seeing her surrogate aunt anywhere.

“Home,” Helen replied wryly. “She said she weren’t interested in coming when she had things to get done at home without anyone underfoot. And she’s watching Jimmy for us.”

“That’s no excuse,” Jenny said with a huff. “There’s loads of people we know who’d love to watch Jimmy. And you can’t tell me she doesn’t want to step out once in a while. She used to go out with Gerald.”

Helen just shrugged. “She just said she were going to stay home and that’s that.”

“Come on, let’s take it up with Siegfried,” Tristan said, taking Jenny by her arm and pulling her along until she almost had to skip to keep up with his brisk pace and long stride.

Siegfried smiled as his brother and his youthful date came closer. “You two make a fine couple,” he greeted them a bit sarcastically, but they didn’t seem to notice, or at least, they didn’t seem to care. “Are you planning on dancing?”

“You know I’m not much of a dancer,” Tristan said, casting a nervous glance at Jenny, not wanting to disappoint her.

However, he had nothing to worry about. She caught his gaze and understood the unspoken. “And I’ve never danced before,” she admitted, noticing the immediate relief in Tristan’s face.

“About time you learned,” Siegfried told her.

“Do you want a drink?” Tristan asked Jenny, trying his best to change the subject to something they both enjoyed in a social setting without worries of stepping on each other’s feet.

“I’d love one.”

“Tristan…” Siegfried said warily. “You said you’d look after her…”

“One drink Siegfried, that’s all,” Tristan said with an exaggerated sigh before walking off.

“For one thing, I don’t need looking after so you can talk to me directly like I’m standing next to you instead of referring to me like a piece of furniture,” Jenny said, her tone firm and confident. “And another thing, one drink never hurt me.”

”You’ve grown up quite a bit, haven’t you?” Siegfried said, a bit amazed at her sudden bold statement. He has always known her to be a precocious and forward child but he hadn’t spoken to her one-on-one in years, without her father or other family members around. Without them, she seemed to have gained a fearless freeness of speech.

Jenny watched Tristan from afar before looking back at Siegfried. “Depends on how you look at it. I’m not a little girl if that’s what you mean. I trying to be a proper adult but I’ve been told I’m still a brat.”

Siegfried’s mouth twitched in amusement, but he kept a serious face as best he could as he looked at her. “Could I have this dance so I can make up my own mind about the matter?”

“I told you, I can’t dance. Don’t know how,” Jenny said hesitantly.

“If you’re waiting for Tristan to come back I wouldn’t bother,” he said, motioning to where Tristan was standing, drinks in hand, but talking to a young lady from town.

Jenny looked in the direction that Tristan was. She couldn’t help but feel a bit let down that he was giving his attention to another girl, but she wasn’t exactly jealous, not like she knew that she would’ve been if she didn’t know where she stood in her relationship with him. There could be plenty of other reasons why he was talking to her that didn’t involve romance.

“I do apologize for the actions of my brother,” Siegfried said with a hint of regret in his voice. “He’s rarely serious about anything and him taking you here was more of a dare than a date.”

Jenny raised an eyebrow. “Really?” She was grateful Tristan had already explained to her how he had to get around his family so he could invite her without raising questions. Siegfried's words of caution barely stung. “I think you’re wrong. Not about him asking me here because he was dared to. You’re probably right — what would he want with me?” She lightly laughed and looked back at Tristan who was still talking with the lady and now another of her friends, but she noticed how he kept glancing back in her direction at Siegfried and herself. “I think you’re wrong about Tristan not being serious about things in general.”

Siegfried tilted his head as he thought about what she said. “He’s come along leaps and bounds since he passed his exams, and as much as I hate to admit it, joining the army has changed him — thankfully, for the better. He’s proved himself serious when he wants to be, when he applies himself to his work. But when it comes to relationships… he’s lacking.”

“Does asking someone to marry him not mean anything?” Jenny asked. “I mean, he did propose? To Flo?”

Siegfried’s face showed his displeasure at Jenny bringing up the ill-fated romance between his brother and Florence Pandhi. “He did, but he rushed into it, not thinking, as is usual with him. Bloody awful business he made of it.” Realizing his language in front of Jenny, who he still thought of as being younger than she was, he awkwardly went quiet, clearing his throat before speaking again with a better choice of words. “Sorry, I meant he made a terrible mess of things.”

Jenny was slow to catch onto what it was that changed Siegfried’s demeanor, until she realized it was his choice of vocabulary. “Don’t be sorry,” she said, “I still live with me dad. I’ve heard worse, but it doesn’t bother me none.”

Siegfried gave a curt nod. “Ah, of course, I should’ve known.”

“But don’t go changing the subject,” Jenny said, glancing over at Tristan again before looking back at his brother. “You have to admit that Tris has at least tried.”

“And failed.”

“At least he tried,” Jenny said firmly. “I’m glad Flo didn’t accept.” She noticed Siegfried’s surprised glance in her direction and explained, “I wouldn’t be here otherwise if he married her.”

“Oh yes you would’ve,” Siegfried assured her. “Some nice young lad would’ve asked you.”

“And I probably would’ve said no.”

“Is that so?”

“I don’t have much interest in men,” Jenny admitted, noting another look of surprise on Siegfried’s face, and realizing what the meaning of her words could have been taken as. “Oh. I’m not… that way. Even if it sounded it,” she said, correcting her previous statement. “I do like men. I think they’re handsome and all, and I wouldn’t mind having a boyfriend of me own, but it’s just men are needy and I don’t have the time.”

“Not even for a date?”

Jenny thought about it but then remembered her short-lived ‘romance’ with Percy that she didn’t view as a true romance. He tried to bring her out on many dates, taking her away from what she wanted or needed to do. “I don’t want a complicated relationship, where I have to come running every time he wants me. If I have time to spend then sure, but if not, he has to respect that. And from what I see, most men aren’t like that. No offense, even though you’re a man yourself.”

“I’m surprised you even came with Tristan,” Siegfried said, trying to suppress the laughter in his voice.

“Tris is different.”

Siegfried couldn’t help but chuckle at her declaration. “That’s an… understatement.”

“No, in a good way,” Jenny clarified. “He’s known me for as long as I can remember so when I’m with him I don’t have to be someone I’m not. And this in’t even a date we’re on so I don’t have to worry about getting serious or anything. But even if it were a date, I wouldn’t mind, cause Tris is a good man. I trust him.”

”Trust him? What makes you think you know him that well?” Siegfried asked. “Even I sometimes have my doubts and he’s my brother.”

“I know Tris. He might not be as serious as you, and he’s a flirt and likes to have a good time. But I’ve seen him do things that take a lot of courage and persistence. If volunteering for the army when he didn’t have to in’t being brave and self-sacrificing, I don’t know what is.” Jenny looked over at Tristan, her eyes filling with a mixture of love and pride for who he was. After a pause, she continued, “You know, if you always doubt him being able to do things for himself and then telling him what he should measure up to, he’s always going to be trying to reach out to be who you want him to be and not himself. And the real Tristan’s wonderful. How can he be himself when he’s always trying to be the person he’s not?”

Siegfried looked at Jenny as she spoke with a heartfelt intensity he had never seen from her before. If he didn’t know better, he would have assumed there were undercurrents of a hidden romance between the young lady and his brother. It was an unusual thought but he dismissed it quickly. “I do appreciate him you know.”

“Do you tell him that?” Jenny asked.

He made a motion as if he was going to say something more but saw his brother approaching. Before he got caught up further in a conversation about Tristan which would then be in front of him, Siegfried took Jenny’s hand and walked her to the dance floor. “You are going to try dancing whether you like it or not,” he said, deciding to be as bold as the farm girl in front of him, which seemed to effectively stop her from saying anything else.

Jenny hesitantly let him lead her out onto the dance floor. “I might step on your feet,” she warned him.

“I’ve had cows and horses step on my feet before, so I’ll take my chances with you. You can’t be any worse,” Siegfried chuckled. “Just follow my lead.”

Tristan watched as his brother stepped with Jenny onto the dance floor as a new song started. It was one of the older kind of songs, one that Siegfried could dance to very easily. And while Tristan was glad Jenny could go dance with someone else, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of betrayal, that she left with his brother and that his brother took his date dancing. To be fair, he had gotten talking with another girl, but she had snagged him and didn’t want to let him go. He blamed it on his good looks and irresistible charm that couldn’t go unnoticed.

On the dance floor, Siegfried continued to guide Jenny among the other dancers. “Very good!” he commended her. “Now we’re going to turn. That’s not so hard, is it?”

Jenny smiled up at him after completing the twirling motion. “I guess me first dance with you will be me last.”

“That’s ridiculous, surely you’ll dance again,” Siegfried said.

“Not with you,” Jenny disagreed. “I heard that you only dance with a woman once and then move on to someone else. And look at all those widows and rich spinsters waiting to get their hands on you!” She couldn’t help but smirk as she saw his eyes darken with what seemed to be dread.

Siegfried glanced over at the groups of people on the sidelines, women speaking in hushed tones while staring at him. At least, their eyes seemed to follow him, but perhaps he was just self-conscious and was imagining it. “Don’t remind me,” he muttered.

“I thought you liked dancing,” Jenny commented, looking down at her feet quickly to make sure she wasn’t going to step on his feet.

“I do.”

“But not with them,” Jenny said, motioning to a group of three single ladies who were around his age.

“I suppose it’s my duty,” Siegfried resolved with a sigh.

“It’s your own doing.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You came alone,” she pointed out. “If you brought someone you wouldn’t have to worry about being fair game for the rest of the ladies.”

“There isn’t anyone I could have asked,” Siegfried countered.

“You and I both know that’s not true,” Jenny said.

“Turn,” Siegfried said softly, raising his arm and spinning Jenny around.

“Don’t go turning me to change the subject neither, cause I know you’re trying to again,” Jenny said, after completing the dance move anyway. “Audrey’s sitting home without anything to do because you didn’t invite her.”

“Mrs. Hall?” Siegfried asked incredulously. “She doesn’t go to events like this.”

“How do you know? Did you ever ask her?”

“No…”

“There you go, she were waiting for you and you let her down. You didn’t even ask,” Jenny said, shaking her head in disapproval.

“What makes you think she would have come? She could have bought her own ticket.”

“You could’ve bought one for her,” she replied.

“I thought Helen was bad, but you’re even worse,” Siegfried said with a sigh. “You look innocent but when you set your mind to something you don’t let go. Jenny Alderson, you are the most stubborn—“

“Determined,” Jenny corrected him. “There’s a difference.”

“—Determined young lady I’ve ever encountered.”

“When I set me mind to something I normally get it done,” Jenny said, looking over at Tristan who had now finished his drink and was watching them dance. “But really Siegfried — I can call you Siegfried, can’t I? I do in me mind but seeing as you’re much older than me, do you want me to call you Mr. Farnon?”

“Siegfried will do,” he replied. “And I’m not so old. You make me sound like an old man. I’ll have you know I’m younger than your father.”

“Alright, Siegfried it is,” Jenny said, testing his name out again. “But Siegfried, you might not be old but you’re not young. And you’re not getting any younger. You think you could do any better than what you’re doing now? You’re dancing with me, a girl young enough to be your daughter and I’m no romantic interest for you. You have a woman who lives under your roof, who’s probably the only woman who can put up with you since she’s proved she can for the past ten years without going mad, and you chose to ignore her and go dancing with me.”

“I’m starting to regret asking you to dance,” Siegfried said. “There’s no escaping you when we’re dancing.”

“Fine, I’ll shut up,” Jenny laughed, going five seconds before adding, “But you have to admit I am right.”

“You’re getting as annoying as Tristan,” Siegfried scoffed playfully.

“Am I?” Jenny grinned, taking it as a compliment as being considered similar to the man she thought of the world of.

As the music came to its finale, Siegfried turned her back to the sidelines. Jenny shot him a knowing look and said, “I were right.” He looked back at her, slightly quizzical. “One dance, that’s all.”

“Ah,” Siegfried said with a nod.

“That’s where I step in,” Tristan said, taking Jenny’s hand and pulling her back onto the dance floor as the first notes of the next song filled the air.

Chapter Text

Tristan’s entry onto the dance floor was most surprising for anyone who knew him — but none were as surprised as Jenny, who hadn’t felt as physically close to him since the fateful early Christmas morning spent in his bedroom. He held her hand in his and wrapped his other hand around her waist as they tentatively took the first few steps in the familiar dance that Siegfried had just introduced to her.

After a short period of getting used to the rhythm of the song and feeling confident enough to look at Jenny instead of at the positioning of their feet, Tristan spoke up first. “I thought you dumped me for Siegfried.”

“You were the one who left for drinks and didn’t come back,” Jenny reminded him.

“Can I help it if women find me irresistible?” Tristan asked, giving her a charming smile. “Once they grab hold it’s hard to get free.”

Jenny looked at him skeptically but her serious look was belied by a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “I didn’t see you running away either.”

“I can’t break all their hearts at once,” Tristan said with a chuckle. “I have to let them off easy. Besides, I did come back to you and then you were off with Siegfried.”

“He wanted to show me how to dance,” Jenny explained, remembering to look where she was stepping and briefly glancing down at her feet before returning his gaze.

“I could’ve done that.”

“I thought you said you didn’t dance,” Jenny replied.

“I’m doing it now, aren’t I? Not being good at dancing and knowing the basics are two different things,” Tristan said, following the same basic dance steps as did Siegfried the dance prior. “Honestly, I’m not very good at this type of dancing, but I couldn’t resist getting a moment with you away from Siegfried and Helen’s watchful eyes.”

“You’re better at dancing than me,” Jenny said, glancing down at her feet yet again to make sure they weren’t too close to his.

“I’ve been doing it longer than you have, and there’s still not much improvement,” Tristan laughed. “The foxtrot and waltzing — that’s for Siegfried. There’s a type of dance that’s been popular among soldiers, but it’s not the kind that would be approved by Siegfried.” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “You ever heard of jitterbugging?”

Jenny didn’t know whether she was more shocked at hearing that he liked that kind of dancing or realizing that he could dance like that. “You can do that?”

He nodded. “Vulgar and decidedly American, I know.”

“No, that’s not what I meant — I mean, it’s grand!” Jenny sputtered.

“If you tried it, you’d probably like it. It’s a lot less structured than this. And from what I hear, you’re the wild type anyway,” Tristan teased her.

“Am I?” Jenny played along with his teasing, her eyes twinkling with merriment. “Does that make me a bad influence on you?”

“Oh I don’t know… there’s not much you could do that would make me any worse.”

“That makes us two of a kind,” Jenny said.

Tristan pulled her a little closer and whispered in her ear, “You could make me enjoy dancing.”

“Make you a convert to Siegfried’s type of dancing? I don’t believe it!” Jenny laughed.

Tristan couldn’t help but smile at Jenny’s laughter and playfulness, which was contagious. Her now jovial mood was in stark contrast to her more serious conversation she appeared to have with Siegfried while they were dancing, and Tris couldn’t help but wonder what exactly they were talking about, or even more interesting, who they were talking about. After all, if they were talking about him, he would like to know. “I hope my brother didn’t bore you with his conversation. He can get a bit intense and technical at times.”

“It weren’t boring,” she assured him. “I learned a lot, mostly just reminding me how men can be such idiots!”

Tristan, a bit taken aback by her words, hid his smile behind a facade of surprise. “It’s good to know you think so highly of men,” he said sarcastically. “Because, as you know, I’m one of them.”

Jenny’s eyes widened as she realized what she was implying. “I don’t mean you—“

He started laughing at her apparent embarrassment to try and correct her statement. “Oh, it’s alright. I already know I’m an idiot sometimes. Well, probably most of the time actually, but I try not to think about it too much.”

“It’s not that,” Jenny said again, quickly trying to smooth over any doubts she might’ve planted in his mind on how she truly felt. “It’s Siegfried.”

“So Siegfried’s the idiot?” Tristan asked, smirking at her bluntness.

“I wouldn’t tell him that to his face, but yes,” Jenny agreed. “He’s too blind to see that what he’s looking for is right under his nose!”

“And what’s he looking for?”

“A girlfriend, or lady friend, whatever they call it,” Jenny said with an exasperated sigh.

Tristan shrugged in response. “I get the idea.”

“I tried to tell him that he should’ve invited Audrey to be his date and come with him.”

“And what did he say to that?” Tristan asked, wondering how much farther Jenny was able to get with Siegfried compared to his and Helen’s subtle (and not so subtle) hints.

“First he said that she could’ve bought her own ticket. Then he said that even if he invited her she wouldn’t have come. But he didn’t even ask her! Then he ran out of excuses and the song was over so he got away from me,” Jenny explained, her frustration evident at Siegfried’s ignorance of Audrey being an available woman. Even if he did notice her, his lack of courage to ask her was equally as irritating to Jenny.

Tristan turned and looked around at the dancing couples, catching sight of his brother dancing with a woman on the other side of the dance floor. “Siegfried seems to be having a good time, even without Mrs. H,” he commented, gesturing with his head as he looked in the direction of his older brother.

Jenny followed his gaze to Siegfried, however, she saw a different picture. She saw a man who was trying to fill his heart with the love he craved, looking for someone who could match the love he had for the woman who wasn’t at his side. No one would do. She knew because she had been in a similar position to Siegfried. For her it was either the only man she was in love with or none at all. Perhaps Audrey to Siegfried was Tristan to Jenny, and in that case, Siegfried was hiding his feelings due to how others would react or in fear of rejection from Audrey. Suddenly, Jenny had much more empathy for him than she had earlier. “You think so?”

“Look at him, dancing with almost every single woman here. Women of a certain age that is. Not including you of course,” Tristan said, refocusing his attention on Jenny.

“Does it bother you?” she asked, not looking him in the eye but instead watching Siegfried and trying her best to read his expressions from afar. The apparent happiness — was it all just an act?

“What?”

“How free he is. How happy he seems. He didn’t bring a date and can be with anyone he wants to be with. You’re stuck with me, watching me like you’d have to a child,” Jenny explained.

“Why would being stuck with you be a bad thing?” Tristan asked.

“I’m like your kid sister.”

“When you were a kid, maybe,” Tristan scoffed.

“Now?”

“You’re not a child anymore,” he told her, his gaze steady as he tried to assure her of his true feelings. “And I want to be with you. Genuinely.”

“Even if people think I'm stubborn and I irritate your brother?”

“Especially when you irritate Siegfried,” Tristan chuckled. “You and I are more alike than not. And that’s probably why I like you, just the way you are.” He pulled her a little closer to him and she willingly leaned into his touch.

After a pause in their conversation, Jenny added, “In case you were wondering, I like you just the way you are too, even though.”

“Even though what?” Tristan asked, pulling back to get a better look at her.

“Even though you’re an idiot,” Jenny teased him. “A lovable idiot.”

“Well thanks for that anyway,” Tristan laughed. As the song started to come to an end, he gave her a playful grin and spun her around, culminating in leaning her back in a final dip.

Jenny, almost breathless from the pure excitement of dancing with Tristan, said nothing, but her eyes locked with his and spoke volumes. She could have danced all night with him and blocked everyone else out but it was not to be. He brought her back up and took her by the hand to the sidelines, where James and Helen were watching them.

“You two are incredible!” James said, stepping over to them both.

“I know,” Tristan agreed, grinning as he looked down at Jenny who was smiling back at him.

James passed Tristan a drink that he was holding onto for him. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Flo’s here,” he told him.

“What?!” Tristan exclaimed, forgetting about the drink in hand and instead casting glances in both directions as he hoped to catch sight of her. Whether he was looking for her either to keep his distance or to speak to her once again, he hadn’t made his mind up on yet. “I haven’t seen her in years! Not since… well, you know when.”

“She was around here just a minute ago,” Helen said, standing on her tiptoes to try and look over the groups of socializing people. “She came with her dad.”

Jenny glanced at Tristan, not jealously, but more curious than anything. She was intrigued to see his reaction to hearing that the girl who refused his marriage proposal years ago was in the same building as him. The Daffodil Ball seemed to be swarming with women who could easily be temptations for Tristan’s flirty ways. In the past Jenny might have been seething with jealousy, knowing she had so much competition vying for Tristan’s attention. However, she knew he asked her to go with him because he wanted to go with her, not with anyone else. It wouldn’t be fair for him to deny interest in seeing an old friend, and Jenny didn’t want to make things difficult or uncomfortable for him. So when she saw Flo and her father before anyone else did, she spoke up. “She’s over there, near the band,” she pointed out, speaking before she lost her nerve to do so.

Tristan looked back at Jenny. “If you want to say hello, we can,” he said, cautiously checking with her first before doing anything.

“I’ll stay here, but you go right ahead. Don’t let me stop you,” Jenny said with a reassuring smile. It was only when he took a step away that she realized she was still holding his hand from the dance. The feel of his hand, so natural against hers, felt like something was then suddenly missing as he left her. She pulled her hand back against her side and watched as he started to walk away. “I were going to get a drink anyway.”

“Not too much,” Helen warned.

“I won’t,” Jenny said with a sigh. She walked off, slinking her way through the crowd of people milling around the bar area. She signaled for a drink and leaned back against the bar as she started people watching while she waited for her drink. She watched as couples danced together, some younger ones stood in corners talking in whispers and giggles, and those older and more mature took their places on the sidelines, no doubt gossiping about who was there, who wasn’t there, and who came with who. And there Jenny was, standing across the room from the man she loved but at the same time having to pretend she didn’t care any more for him than she did a brother. They both were sworn to some kind of secret so as not to upset or shock their family and friends. It would keep everyone happy if they went on just the way they always were.

But Jenny couldn’t pretend that she didn’t want more. Because she did. Until then, she’d just be Tristan’s friend, the little sister he never had, and she’d have to be content with that, to keep everyone else content. Thinking about it, Jenny came to the conclusion that life sure was funny.

Chapter Text

Tristan made his way across the room over to Flo, but half way there, he paused for a moment, the thought crossing his mind that going to talk to her perhaps wasn't one of his best ideas. Though he had in the past been close enough to Flo to the point of wanting to marry her, he hadn't spoken to her since the fateful day that he proposed and she rejected him. He had put that day behind him into the memories he thought best left unremembered and so he hoped she had done the same.

Much like with Maggie, he next reasoned that there was nothing stopping them from being friends again, especially since he heard from the mail lady who heard from someone at the boardinghouse where Flo used to live that she had gotten engaged and by then was most likely married. An ex-boyfriend shouldn't cause problems or bad feelings at this point. At least Tristan hoped not.

And so he walked with an extra bounce in his step at his newfound confidence deciding the best (and perhaps only) way to see how she felt about him was to talk to her. And then another doubt popped up in his mind — what he might say when he came face to face with her. They didn't need the typical introductions but at the same time he couldn't just go up and ask how she was as if he'd seen her only last week and nothing had changed between them.

Another moment of hesitation came upon him — or was it really cowardice? Tristan wondered. No, he decided he was being logical for one of the few times in his life. Going to talk to Flo without a thing to say was probably not a good idea. He should have planned something, anything that would make him seem not the stammering idiot he thought he would inevitably end up becoming. Suddenly the thought of getting a drink (for courage, of course) seemed like the best plan of action. He should have gone with Jenny in the first place. After all, he promised Helen he’d watch out for her. He glanced behind him at Jenny, who was walking over to get herself a drink, but before he could turn around and follow her, he felt the gaze of Flo on him, and he knew it was too late. Retreating was now not an option but at the same time, nor was silence.

"Tristan Farnon!" Flo exclaimed, sounding surprised to see him. Tristan took her reaction as a good sign, though the hesitation he felt reflected in his eyes.

He was caught with nowhere to go but to stand there in front of her. Even if he didn’t have words to say right then, he at least remembered to smile, the charming Tristan mask firmly in place. "Flo, I uh..." he started, but suddenly anything sensible he had in mind to say left him. He couldn't think of anything reasonable. The words were all jumbled up in his mind, and he knew that if he said what he was thinking of saying, he most likely wouldn't make sense.

He gave a self-deprecating laugh, stalling for time to get his thoughts together. "Yeah, you know, for years I was thinking of what I'd say when we'd meet again and now I can't think of anything to say, which doesn't make sense at all," he admitted, deciding to come clean in his feelings. It was easier than acting confident, of which any feeling of courage had also deserted him along with his words. “Am I even making sense? I’m sorry, this is just… really awkward…”

"It doesn't have to be awkward," Flo said.

“I honestly don’t know what to say, which is a phenomenon I don’t usually experience,” Tristan laughed, trying to make light of the situation.

“Well, you could start with hello,” Flo suggested.

Tristan couldn’t help but grin. “Hello.”

“Hello.” Flo smiled back at him, her eyes sparking with an amusement at his self-professed awkwardness.

Funnily enough, Tristan didn’t mind her subtle way of poking fun at him. It was a reminder that any hard feelings he pictured between them were only in his imagination. “I think we’ve done this before,” he commented.

Flo smiled in agreement. “I think we have.”

It was at some point when Jenny had been unknowingly staring at Tristan and Flo for a prolonged period of time that hearing her name snapped her out of her thoughts. She turned around and came face to face with a tall and lanky young man around her age who quite obviously recognized her. Though she hadn’t seen him in a while, she could tell that he was the same boy she used to sit across the aisle from in school. He still had that same bashful glance, but now he had grown much taller and his voice was much deeper. “David!” she replied happily.

“I thought you might’ve forgotten who I was,” he said, a shy smile appearing on his face.

“It has been a while,” Jenny admitted with a laugh. “How are you?”

“Well, thank you,” David said politely, “and you?”

“Fine,” Jenny said, her eyes darting across the room to Tristan before she refocused her attention on David. “I didn’t expect to see you here!”

“I’m with the band,” David explained, gesturing behind him to the other men playing instruments. “On piano or sometimes drums. Either that’s needed. I do both.” His eyes dropped down to his feet, as he hesitated to continue speaking to her due to the way he often found himself tongue-tied around people he hardly knew or people he wanted to get to know better. Finally he thought of something to say that in his mind wouldn’t come across as completely simplistic or overly intrusive. The last thing he wanted to do was make her feel as uncomfortable as he probably appeared. “I saw you dancing with the Farnons and wondered if it were you.”

“Aye, it’s me,” Jenny said with a playful smile on her face. She turned to grab the drink that the bartender placed on the counter for her. “It must have been years since I’ve seen you, since school. Where’ve you been keeping yourself?”

“In town mostly. I’m graduating this year,” David mentioned.

“Eighteen?” Jenny said, her surprise changing her statement into more of a question. She knew that she shouldn’t have been so surprised as they were born in the same year of 1924. She knew she already knew that. It just slipped her mind and she frankly was surprised at the change in the boy she used to know. He didn’t look like a boy anymore, even if he still had the look of apprehension etched on his face. Much like herself, he had grown up.

“Last October,” he told her. “I’ll be nineteen this year.”

“Feels like yesterday we were just kids,” Jenny said in amazement. “And now look at us. Remember during the last cricket match at Mrs. Pumphrey’s?”

“They never did find out what happened to us,” David chuckled.

“It were more fun exploring the estate when no one were looking than watching our team lose… again,” Jenny said with a roll of her eyes.

David smiled at the fond memory but had nothing more to say. He never knew what to say around girls. Or around boys either. In fact, even if he had something to say, it was hard getting the words out. It was the curse of the shy: so much bouncing around in his head but so little to speak due to the effort of articulating his thoughts into statements that would make sense and not be part of the running conversation that was continuously going on in his mind. But he enjoyed talking with Jenny, and was afraid that if he didn’t say anything else she would leave. Small talk would have to do, as difficult as it was. “Who did you come with?” he finally asked, glancing around for a potential boyfriend.

“Tris,” she answered, looking over again at Tristan who was now sharing in a laugh with Flo. Jenny was glad he went to talk with Flo, but she couldn’t help but wish he was with her instead.

David gave a nod, though he felt it a bit peculiar that Jenny, a girl his age, would go with Tristan, a man his sister Maggie’s age. Even more odd was the fact that Tristan was Maggie’s ex-boyfriend from years past. However, because of the well-known fact that men were in short supply due to the war, he chose to gloss over the strange idea that Jenny was out on a date with an older man. And, as his parents had always taught him, if he had nothing nice to say, to say nothing at all, which was not difficult for him in the least. Silence was a close friend of his, but in his current conversation, he wasn’t ready to say goodbye just yet. “I always liked Tristan — he’s been nice to me. He’s still good friends with Maggie.”

“He’s pretty nice,” Jenny agreed, but not wanting to give away anything more about her true relationship with Tristan, decided to change the subject back to David himself. “If you’re graduating this year, what are you going to do afterwards? Are you going to join a band?”

“I wish I could, but I already work. At the mechanic’s shop,” he said.

“Cars and music? That’s a funny combination,” Jenny said with a light laugh.

“Well, I would rather play with a band, but I need to earn a living too,” David admitted. “So I work on cars so I can have a job that pays. But even that… it’s only temporary.” Noticing the puzzled expression on her face, he explained, “Till I get called up for duty.”

Jenny’s expression changed to understanding exactly what he meant. She still thought it a strange concept that her friends, the boys she went to school with, were becoming soldiers, fighting for their country. Some would come home heroes, others wouldn’t come home at all. This sudden depressing realization of what she had tried to not think about served as a reminder of the times they were living in. Sheltered as they were from the city bombings and war torn areas, the war was very much real and current, and it touched the lives of those even in their small town of Darrowby.

She saw the concern in his eyes, the glimmer of fear as he thought about what the future could bring to him. The war, which was fought to secure a better future for their generation and the one that would come after them, could easily destroy the very lives they were trying to better the world for.

“The war won’t last forever,” Jenny pointed out, trying to look for something positive to say. “It might even end before you’re called up.”

While David appreciated the sentiment, he didn’t quite believe that it was the way the future would go for him. He was scared but he didn’t want to voice his concerns to her. He knew the men in her family were either farmers or veterinarians, both of which were in protected occupations. Not like himself, who was the preferred candidate for being called up to serve. He was single and young, and young men had the energy, strength, and stamina to fight, and, more dismally, statistically had a better chance of recovery from injuries sustained during battles. These dark thoughts often plagued him but he tried to push those aside and focus on the here and now, which was playing with a band (his lifelong dream) and speaking to a girl he thought was charming, in an earthy sort of way.

”So,” Flo continued, “Tell me Tristan Farnon, what’s happened in your life?”

That was a very broad question with an answer that was most likely expected to be summed up in a matter of a few sentences. Tristan quickly tried to think of something that would answer her question without much explanation. There were things that would be too long to explain (such as his postings in France, Egypt, and then more locally at Doncaster), subjects that he didn’t want to bring up (the terrors of war he kept hidden from everyone under the guise of a good time everywhere he went), and other ones that were too complicated to get into (his relationship with Jenny, for one).

“I’m a Lieutenant now. In the RAVC,” Tristan said, deciding on a simple yet profound fact of his life. “I signed up… well, actually, it was after I proposed to you.”

“So you signed up because I refused your proposal?” Flo asked, a worried look crossing her face.

“That sounds cliche,” Tristan chuckled. “But it was something like that. And also about feeling it was the right thing to do at the time. What you told me about having to find out who I am… you were right.”

“Oh, I am sorry about that. I could’ve used more tact. Thinking back now, I was a bit harsh…” Flo admitted.

“No,” Tristan interrupted her. “You weren’t. I might not have fully appreciated it at the time, but you were absolutely right. I needed to figure out who I was before rushing into marriage and looking for happiness that way. Since I’ve been away, I know who I am now. I’m enjoying my role in teaching recruits and feel like I’ve found a purpose in life doing what I want to do, not because Siegfried told me to do it. So no need to apologize, because I needed to hear it.” He smiled reassuringly at her. “You’re happy, aren’t you?”

Flo stopped for a moment before answering him, not because of a doubt in her mind on whether she was truly happy or not, but because she wondered where he was taking their conversation. “Yes, I’m happy.”

“Good, because I am too. So even if we didn’t find happiness together, we’re both not going to live with broken hearts for the rest of our lives,” Tristan said, playfully grinning as he spoke.

“I’m not sure if you heard, but I’m married now,” Flo said, quickly adding, “Happily married.”

Tristan gave her a nod. “I had heard you were engaged or something. So married now, huh? Congratulations! And where’s the lucky chap?” He gave a glance over his shoulder to see if a man who could be her husband was around.

“He’s somewhere…” she said, looking through the crowd of people to pick out where her husband got off to. Unable to spot him, she turned her attention back to Tristan. “And what about you?”

“Oh, uh, not married,” Tristan sputtered, being caught off guard by her question. “Or engaged. Or dating anyone… well…” He stopped as he debated telling her about Jenny, but decided not to go down that road of conversation.

“You came alone then? Or is there a lovely lady of yours hiding somewhere here too?” Flo teased him.

Tristan dropped his gaze to his feet as he chuckled, realizing he was caught in a trap of his own making. “She’s not really my girlfriend. Or anyone’s girlfriend actually. She’s, oh remember Jim? My friend who you kept calling Tim?”

“Oh, don’t remind me!” Flo said, putting a hand to her face as she hid her laugh. “That was so embarrassing!”

“It was hilarious,” Tristan laughed. “Well, Jenny is Jim’s sister-in-law. His wife Helen’s younger sister. I brought her so she could come. They wanted someone to keep an eye on her and all, and seeing as I didn’t have anyone to go with, they thought — well, I did too — that I could bring Jenny. She’s great. You’d love her.”

“I’m sure I would,” Flo agreed, catching a hint of a relationship that went deeper than what he let on. “Oh!” she suddenly exclaimed, noticing her husband making his way toward her. “Henry! Come meet Tristan Farnon.”

Flo’s husband Henry came over with a large smile on his face and a hand outstretched as he stepped in front of Tristan. “Nice to meet you Farnon! Henry Thornton.”

“Likewise, it’s good to meet you. I’ve been interested in seeing who it was that caught Flo’s heart,” Tristan said, shaking Henry’s hand.

Henry put an arm around his wife’s waist and pulled her into a side embrace. “Flo’s told me about you,” he said, and noting Tristan’s slightly worried expression, his smile got even broader. “Good things, I assure you! You saved our dog Daisy and for that I’ll always be grateful. She’s the best dog I’ve ever known.”

“She’s a sweet one,” Tristan agreed, once again feeling a sense of relief that Henry turned out to be such a pleasant chap who wasn’t jealous that his wife was talking to a boyfriend from her past.

“Where’s your Jenny? I’d love to meet her,” Flo spoke up.

Tristan suddenly remembered that he was supposed to be keeping an eye on Jenny, yet when he turned to check, she was not where he left her. “I’m not sure. She was with her sister, but… oh, right. She said she was going to get a drink.”

“Is that her?” Henry asked, gesturing in the general area of the bar. “That girl talking to the lad from the band?”

Tristan’s eyes widened at the sight. “Yeah, that’s her. You know, I hate to run off, but I promised her sister I’d make sure Jenny wasn’t getting in trouble or anything. You know how it is.”

Flo nodded, hiding a smirk. “I know how it is. Go on then. Have a good time.” As he started to leave, she called out after him, making him stop in his tracks. “Oh, and Tristan? It was good to see you again. Thanks for saying hello.”

Tristan smiled back at her before continuing on in the direction where Jenny was. He had left her for only a couple of minutes (well, it only felt like a couple of minutes) and then another man swoops in, thinking he could steal away Jenny’s attention. He got closer and was surprised to see that the lad she was talking with was Maggie’s younger brother David. Without a word, Tristan silently claimed his place among them as Jenny’s escort. “You two look awfully serious,” he said, interrupting their conversation which had come to a silent halt.

“We were just talking about the war,” Jenny explained, looking up at Tristan, who had taken his place beside her. “He’s waiting to get his papers.”

Tristan nodded knowingly. “Well it’s not like what you see in the movies,” he told David, whose already serious expression darkened further. “But it is a good chance to see the world and you’ll probably drive the girls wild in your uniform,” he added with a wink.

David didn’t find Tristan’s words reassuring and just looked at him skeptically. “I don’t know… I just wish…” he mumbled, before his words trailed off into something incoherently quiet. Refocusing his thoughts on a brighter outlook, he spoke up. “Like Jenny said, maybe it’ll all be over before I even get a chance to go.”

“We could hope,” Tristan agreed, also wishing for the end of the war to come quickly so he could get back to his civilian life and carry on with the veterinary work he originally set out to do before the war was even a thought.

David started to feel like a third wheel, interrupting Jenny’s time with Tristan, no matter how unusual their relationship seemed to him. He couldn’t tell if those two were only friends or if they were more than that, but in either case he didn’t want to overstep, deciding that leaving would be his best option. “I, uh… I better get back to the band,” he said, thinking up a plausible excuse. “I’ll see you around, maybe.”

“Bye David,” Jenny said with a small wave of her hand as he retreated quickly after backing away a few paces. She took a sip of her drink before looking up at Tristan. “I think you scared him away.”

“Who, me?” Tristan chuckled. “David and I go way back. I’m the one who taught him about the ‘magic mask’ that helps you get through scary situations and intimidating people.”

“I think the mask has lost its magic,” Jenny said with a straight face, hiding her amusement.

“I guess it’s time I taught him another trick,” Tristan stated confidently.

Jenny raised an eyebrow, curious to hear further. “What other trick?”

“It’s what I do when I come across people who are intimidating or irritating,” Tristan said. “I just picture them as an animal and then they’re not so scary.”

“You’re daft!” Jenny laughed.

“No, I’m being serious, and it’s quite easy once you start looking for it! When you picture someone as an animal it’s hard to think of anything else, including your fear,” Tristan said. He gestured to a rather large man with a scowl on his face, sitting in the corner smoking a pipe. “Take him for instance. He’d be a bulldog. Imposing looking but far too interested in chomping on the end of his pipe to bother with anyone. And his snarl is probably harmless.”

Jenny couldn’t help but smile. “What about her?” she asked, nodding toward a middle aged woman strutting around like she owned the place and wearing extravagant furs and jewelry obviously from the last decade before the war rations.

“Definitely a Persian cat,” Tristan said immediately. “She thinks she’s all that and more.”

Jenny laughed. “You do this for everyone?” she asked.

“Anyone I’ve ever felt intimidated by,” Tristan admitted.

“So what about Siegfried?”

“That’s easy. He’s Clancy,” Tristan said without hesitation. “Mr. Mulligan’s Alsatian. He’s all loud bark and no bite. Mostly.”

Jenny got a mischievous look on her face as she thought of her next question. “And what would you fancy yourself as?”

Tristan shrugged, already knowing the answer to her question. “Oh, well, I suppose I’d be a Golden Retriever. They’re lovable idiots too, you know, like me. They are smart, but mostly they just like to have a good time with their family so they come across as being goofy. And they’re food motivated, just like me.”

“I see the resemblance,” Jenny laughed.

The two of them were too involved in trying to control their laughter so they wouldn’t cause a scene that they didn’t notice Helen and James coming over to them. “What’s so funny?” Helen asked, interrupting their conversation.

Jenny looked over at her sister, trying to hide her obvious amusement at Tristan. “It’s nowt. Just talking about… animals.”

“Speaking of animals, you two look like the cat who got the cream,” James said with a smile, glancing between the two of them.

“What’s really going on?” Helen playfully questioned them.

“Nothing Helen, nothing at all,” Tristan said with a smirk, before taking Jenny’s arm and leading her away, both trying very hard to control their laughter but failing miserably.

Chapter Text

“I don’t think we ever catch a break,” Tristan commented as he walked alongside Jenny as they slowly crossed the room, away from the band and the curious glances of Helen and James.

“Maybe it weren’t meant to be, for us to be together,” Jenny said, pausing only for a moment before adding, “Of course, I never play by the rules anyway. Neither do you.”

Tristan gave her a playful nudge as they walked. “That’s why we get along so well,” he stated. Once he felt that they got far enough away from their nosy family members, he stopped and reached out for her hand, which still had the drink in it. “Thanks,” he said with a smile, grabbing the drink out of her hand and taking a chug of it.

“Hey, that’s mine!” Jenny exclaimed.

Tristan finished it off in a hurry before she could grab it back. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before placing the now empty glass back in her hand. “And I thought you were holding it for me,” he said seriously, though his tone of voice couldn’t hide the smirk on his face.

“There were a reason why I didn’t give it to you earlier,” Jenny said, rolling her eyes. She placed it down on a table nearby, as it was empty and it wouldn’t do her much good then.

“You were only supposed to have one, and I did promise I’d look after you,” Tristan reminded her.

Jenny crossed her arms and raised a brow. “And how’s that going?”

“I saved you from falling for the charms of David, didn’t I?” Tristan teased.

“David’s as harmless as a lamb!” Jenny chuckled. “I don’t even think he had it in him to look me straight in the eye!”

Tristan couldn’t help but laugh. “I suppose he’s not a big threat,” he conceded.

The sound of a trumpet started to softly play the song The Nearness of You. “Come on,” he said, taking her by the hand, and she willingly following him.

Silently they walked in harmony onto the dance floor, timing synchronized as they moved together, slowly in step with the music. Tristan pulled her closer and he strategically crossed the dance floor to the sidelines and toward the back door.

Jenny, realizing how far off track they had strayed, looked back at the partygoers. “Where—“

“Shh,” Tristan softly silenced her, moving his one hand off her side to open the door. He held her hand as he led her outside, taking a quick peek behind the columns and other places where couples might try to catch moments alone with each other. He knew that in the past he had been in that situation many times himself, more times than he cared to admit.

“What are we doing out here?” Jenny asked, stepping away from Tristan to peer out over the fields that backed up to the building, the surrounding scenery lit up only from the moonlight that poked through puffy clouds above.

Tristan followed her, taking her by both hands and bringing her over to a balustrade that looked out over the nearby garden. “If I can’t have you all to myself inside I can outside.”

“You want to talk?” Jenny asked, turning toward him as she sat down on the railing.

“It seems it’s all I can do with you these days,” Tristan admitted. “You and I both lead such busy lives that we rarely cross paths anymore. You at Heston and me in Doncaster.”

“I already know you’re leaving, so you don’t have to worry that I’ll make a fuss about it,” Jenny said simply, looking down at her hands in her lap.

Tristan tilted his head. “How did you—“

“Helen told me,” Jenny quietly replied. She looked up at him with a slight smile. “It seemed you and I spend most of our lives saying goodbye.”

“At least it’s not Cairo. Three months isn’t forever,” Tristan said hopefully.

It felt like it to me last autumn… Jenny thought to herself without vocally expressing her true feelings.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Tristan let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat. His hands gripped the railing as he looked away from Jenny and faced out toward the green hills of Darrowby. “I just thought that if I didn’t tell you we could pretend everything would be the same.”

Jenny cautiously moved her hand onto his. “It’s fine. We’ll get through it. Just like last time. And when you come back, I’ll be here waiting.”

His eyes lit up as she said she would be there for him when he returned. “We will,” he agreed. “I promise I’ll write.”

“And I’ll write to you as often as I can,” Jenny promised. “Even if we are busy with the lambing season.”

“How are you getting on without your father?” Tristan asked, slightly changing the subject.

“I manage. Like every other Dales farmer worth one’s salt,” Jenny said.

“If you need any help, I’ll be here for the next week,” Tristan offered.

Jenny shook her head. “Dad’ll be back in two days; I think I can make do. I want to make him proud of me, see that I can handle things by meself.”

“It’s hard, isn’t it? Always trying to measure up to other’s expectations,” Tristan muttered.

Jenny looked at him and realized again how similar their backgrounds were, despite the differing circumstances they were raised in. They both had lost a parent at a young age. “Sometimes I think Dad and Helen still see me as a little girl and they think I can’t do what they do on the farm,” she admitted.

“So they watch and make sure you’re doing it just so when you really just need the space and their confidence in you,” Tristan empathized with her, knowing all too well the feeling.

Jenny shrugged in agreement. “Helen almost made sure she stayed with me up at Heston when Dad said he were leaving. I got me say this time and I’ve got to make it count.”

“What is it with older siblings?” Tristan scoffed. “They think they’re doing right by you by managing everything in your life like they’re your parent, trying to protect you from everything, but they don’t realize we need to live our own lives.”

”Just because we lost our mothers — and you your dad — doesn’t mean we need our siblings to step in and be both a sibling and a parent,” Jenny said with renewed confidence in her belief as she heard Tristan express what she had already felt for a long time.

“We just need a friend,” Tristan finished her thought. “Someone who can understand us.”

“So it doesn’t get any easier even as you get older?” Jenny asked.

Tristan shook his head. “I wish I could say otherwise. Though… maybe it’s just Siegfried.”

“Helen’s not as bad as Siegfried, I’ll give her that,” Jenny said seriously before they shared a laugh together. As they looked out over the dark garden, illuminated only by dappled moonlight, Jenny glanced back at Tristan. “Despite everything… we really are lucky.”

Tristan agreed, “Not everyone has families like we do.”

“And we have all this,” Jenny said with a nod to the garden in front of her and the Dales beyond. “We can’t pick to whom and where we’re born and somehow we got to be the lucky ones. To be born and raised here. I’m sure there’s other pretty places in the world but there’s no place like the Dales. A piece of heaven on earth. And if heaven’s not like this, I don’t want to go.”

“You speak of it as if it were a part of you,” Tristan said, studying and admiring her as if truly seeing her for the first time.

“It’s in me blood,” Jenny said softly. “I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving for good. I couldn’t live in a place where buildings are taller than the trees and the city lights block out the stars in the night sky. I’d still like to visit a city… Leeds, maybe London someday… but I’d have to come home.”

There was something oddly soothing to Tristan knowing that Jenny would be there on his return to Darrowby. The last time he left on an assignment he wasn’t sure where he stood with her. He had worries of her leaving for London and unwittingly taking up with a married man. Now he knew she would be safe. No matter what happened, she would be home when he came back. But he couldn’t find the right words to express what he wanted to tell her, the happiness he felt knowing she would be waiting for him, that he could come home… to her. So instead he only teased her just a little. “I’ve never heard of someone sounding so homesick without ever leaving home.”

“That’s because you’ve been places, done things, seen the world,” Jenny reminded him. “Me world is Darrowby and me home is Heston.”

“Somehow, no matter how far I go, I think I’ll always come home to Darrowby,” Tristan said thoughtfully.

“That’s because the Dales are a part of you too,” Jenny said, her eyes catching his gaze for a moment before turning her attention to the sky, the clouds parting for the crescent moon to shine through and for a few stars to twinkle. “Do they have stars like these in Cairo?”

Tristan followed her gaze to the moon and stars before looking back at her. “Not quite,” he stated. “There’s more in Cairo. Not as many clouds.”

“I wouldn’t trade our few stars for all the stars in Cairo,” Jenny said softly.

Tristan couldn’t help but chuckle. “You know they’re the same stars in Cairo as the ones here, don’t you?”

“I still wouldn’t trade them,” she answered him with a smile.

“You can’t trade them if they’re the same exact stars,” Tristan teased her. “Look, there’s the Plough,” he said, pointing out the constellation.

“Is that it?” Jenny asked, pointing toward what looked to be a familiar pattern of stars.

Tristan moved behind her, bending a bit to be more on her eye level. “That’s it, right there.” Gently he moved his hand to hers and guiding it up, he added, “And from that star in the Plough, go up and… there it is. The North Star. The brightest one in the sky.”

“It’s beautiful.” Jenny leaned back into his touch ever so slightly, the thrill of him being so close almost overriding her comprehension of what he was saying to her. Slowly she dropped down her arm, but his hand remained on it, his grip soft. “You see those same stars all the way in Egypt?”

“Even all the way there,” Tristan assured her.

“It’s such a big world… and sometimes… I don’t know,” Jenny said, her voice barely a whisper. “It seems so small. Like all I know is here. And when you leave to another part of the world that you know, it’s like you’re gone from the world that I know.” She looked back at Tristan, who was still standing behind her. “Do you ever wonder, if we never met before, say you weren’t from here, would we have ever crossed paths?”

“A serendipitous moment?” Tristan asked. “Anything’s possible.”

“I mean, if there were summat that keeps us together without us even knowing, pulling us together.”

“Because you can’t seem to get rid of me?” he joked.

“Because I don’t want you to ever leave,” Jenny replied honestly.

“Soulmates or kindred spirits of sorts?” Tristan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“We’ve know each other for as long as I can remember and I… I can’t picture a world without you,” she confessed.

“I don’t want to picture a world without you,” Tristan said, taking her hand in his and threading his fingers through hers.

Jenny looked down at their fingers entwined. “What do you think it would’ve been like if we hadn’t met before? Would we have gone through all that wasted time with me being so stubborn and thinking I knew best to keep you out of me life?”

“I think if we met for the first time here, right now, I think we would have been instant friends.”

“What would you have said?” Jenny asked.

Tristan tilted his head thoughtfully. “Well, if I hadn’t met you before, I probably would have been on leave from Doncaster and I would have heard from one of the lads that there was a charity ball of some kind here in Darrowby. I probably would have seen you here sitting by yourself out here, looking out over the Dales.” He stepped back and gazed at her. “Like so,” he said, putting her hand in her lap and positioning her ever so slightly so that she was looking out over the Dales. “Just like that. And then I would have walked up to you and said, ‘What’s a pretty girl like you doing all by yourself out here?’”

Jenny smiled at him and decided to play along with his ruse. “And I’d say, ‘I came out to get some fresh air.’”

“Too stuffy in there for you?”

“Too many people. Sometimes I just want to get away from it all,” Jenny explained, continuing to look out over the garden and away from Tristan.

“I understand,” Tristan said, sitting down next to her. “The name’s Tristan by the way. Lieutenant Tristan Farnon.”

“Jenny Alderson,” she introduced herself, extending her hand. He put his hand in hers and heartily shook it.

“Nice to meet you Jenny Alderson.”

“I really shouldn’t be out here,” Jenny said, sliding off the railing and walking a few paces away.

“Why not?” Tristan asked from his spot where he was sitting, turning toward her.

Jenny stood over near the column and leaned against it, staring off at the moon. “I didn’t come alone and me date’s a jealous man.”

Tristan crossed his arms. “Are you afraid I’ll put you in a compromising situation?”

“I’m not afraid of you Farnon,” Jenny replied. “I’m not afraid of him either. But I’d be afraid for you because of him.”

“Who is this date of yours?” Tristan questioned her.

“I’d tell you, but I’ve been sworn to never mention his name again,” Jenny said, hiding her smirk by turning away from Tristan.

Tristan furrowed his eyebrows. “Is that so?” He got up and walked over to her, but Jenny only turned around the column so she wasn’t facing him. “I’m not afraid of your jealous boyfriend.”

“You aren’t?” Jenny questioned him, raising an eyebrow.

Tristan moved closer to her and put his hands on her shoulders. “I know who you’re talking about. And if you’d look at me I’d like to tell you some things I know about your boyfriend.”

“Maybe I don’t want to hear them,” Jenny said, sliding away from his light touch and walking out to where they were sitting earlier.

Tristan followed her. “I wonder if you’d slap me,” he muttered thoughtfully.

“What for?” Jenny asked, turning toward him.

Tristan took another step closer to her. “For what I’m thinking…”

“That depends on what you’re thinking,” Jenny encouraged him.

“It certainly wouldn’t be approved by your boyfriend,” Tristan said, hesitantly wrapping his arms around her waist.

“What boyfriend?” Jenny whispered, putting her arms around his neck.

“We’re not play acting now, are we?” Tristan mumbled as he pulled her closer.

“No,” Jenny assured him. “I’ve never been more serious in me life.”

“Good. Because what I want to do —“

“Do it.”

Just when they both thought that this was the moment that they had long awaited, putting all pretenses and worries aside, they heard the back door open and they jumped away from each other, startled from their moment. Jenny moved back into the shadows of the building while Tristan stood still in the spilled light from the doorway.

“Tristan! There you are!” Siegfried exclaimed, “We’ve been looking all over for you! What were you doing out — oh, never mind, I don’t want to know. I’m sorry to spoil your evening but everything goes on at once and there’s nothing we can do about it. The Major believes one of his horses has colic and one of the Crabtree’s cows is having a troublesome calving. I’d ask James but he’s with Helen and they can bring Jenny home for you.”

Tristan sighed and glanced over at Jenny, who was standing back out of sight. He didn’t know what to say and it seemed like Siegfried had made his mind up for him again. He had no say in the matter. “I’ll be right there,” he muttered.

“Chop chop man,” Siegfried said, rushing back inside.

Once the door closed, Tristan took a step toward Jenny’s hiding spot. “Jenny, I —“

“Go,” Jenny urged him. “The animals always come first. I’m a farmer and you’re a vet. It’s bound to happen. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“I didn’t want the evening to end like this,” Tristan said with disappointment in his voice.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine,” Jenny said confidently, though she wished she could’ve had him all to herself for the rest of the evening.

Later that evening, Jenny went back home with Helen and James, according to Siegfried’s plan. They offered to come in and help with anything (she politely turned them down, saying she had everything under control) and she offered them a brew (they politely turned her down, saying they needed to get back to Jimmy). And so she returned to the dark and quiet home, empty except for the animals she cared for as if they were friends and family members. She wondered what the evening would have ended like if Tristan hadn’t been called out with Siegfried. That was best left to her imagination anyway, though since last Christmas, her dreams had been coming true.

She smiled to herself as she thought of what life would be like married to a vet. Might as well get used to the night calls, she mused. Lonely nights and a silent house might not be so bad as long as she knew he would come home to her.

Back at Skeldale, long after the party had ended and the Herriots had gotten home, Tristan came in through the back door. The calving he was sent to was complicated, but both mother and calf were fine in the end. Exhausted from the day, he tried to quietly make his way to his room, but noticed a light still left on in the sitting room. Surprised, he glanced in before heading upstairs. Siegfried and Mrs. H were relaxed, sitting on the sofa and sharing a nightcap. He had to admit that his brother looked happier with Mrs. H than he had all night with the countless people he was with earlier. With a shake of his head, Tristan went upstairs without drawing attention to himself, deciding that he was glad that Siegfried’s night ended well, much unlike his own.

After some contemplation, Jenny decided that her night hadn’t ended so poorly after all. Any time spent with Tristan was not wasted. Besides, it was nice to be out with people. Silence was something Jenny was not used to, but she had it in ample supply since her father left.

She lit the fireplace in the kitchen and settled comfortably in a chair, Scruff lying at her feet. The stillness of the house reminded Jenny of how she did miss her father. He was more than her parent, more than someone she worked with everyday. He was someone to talk to at the end of the day, someone to share her concerns, the price of eggs, what he thought the weather would be like that spring, whether they’d have a good lambing season, things like those that seemed silly but actually meant a lot. She could talk and he’d sit there and listen, seemingly paying more attention to his drink in hand or the newspaper he picked up to read. But it was knowing he was there and present that mattered the most, even if he didn’t say much in return to her chattering.

She didn’t know that when he returned, her life would never be the same again.

Chapter Text

Two days after the Daffodil Ball, which happened to be a very pleasant day in March, Jenny leaned against the rails of the gate leading out to the road. She surveyed the land beyond Heston Grange, her eyes darting across the landscape and taking in the scenery as if drinking it in for the first time. One would think that she had never seen spring arrive in the Dales before, and she probably would agree. Every spring season brought a new appearance to the land. Flowers sprung up in the grassy meadows and lined the stone walls that zigzagged through the countryside. Birds sang their melodies, cows were lowing in the distance, and an occasional nicker came from her horses in the fields.

She might have been alone then, but as Jenny thought how beautiful her surroundings were and how fortunate she was to be able to live in the Yorkshire Dales, she decided there was no better place to be alone. She wouldn’t trade places with a queen any day. Her domain was Heston Grange, her subjects the flocks of sheep that dotted the meadows and cows that roamed the hills.

She slid her calloused hand across the top rail of the gate, the rough feel under her palm a reminder of the hard work she put in the past weeks. Without her father, her work had been more difficult and she wouldn’t deny that she had missed a partner or farm hand to help. Grateful for the assistance Helen gave, Jenny saw firsthand the importance in having family work the farm together.

Later on that day, she would no longer be alone. The silence in the house that had become a familiar companion would soon, and happily, disappear. Not that her father would likely say much, but Jenny would have someone to talk to. Someone who wasn’t an animal, that is. She knew she could never live alone. She needed human companionship; if not her father, a handsome vet she had eyes for. The slightly naughty thought of being alone with the man she loved made a smirk appear on her face that no one was there to notice. When that day would arrive, she would no longer be the lady of Heston Grange. She wouldn’t lean against the gate and look out over her property. She would be a guest on the land and a guest in the house — an altogether foreign thought to think about, as Heston Grange and all that it entailed was all that she had ever known.

Those thoughts reserved for another day when she had time to daydream, Jenny determinedly walked along the fence. She had missed him more than she expected, and though Helen visited as much as possible, it wasn’t enough to fill the void her father’s constant companionship left behind.

“Come on Scruff!” she called out for her dog, the Spaniel hurriedly running up to her beckon. Girl and dog walked along the perimeter of the stone walls that surrounded and lined the road from their land. There wasn’t much left to be done at the house and the animals had been cared for — if her father thought she was shirking her duties when he saw her out on a walk, she’d tell him otherwise, with proof to support her point.

After a little while, the sound of a farm truck rumbled along the road. Jenny’s smile turned into a grin as her eyes met with the vehicle that was undeniably familiar, the sign that her father was finally home. She waved at him, trying to get his attention as she climbed over the stone wall, making her way to the road. “Dad!” she exclaimed as she stood on the side of the road and the truck slowed down to a stop.

“Get in love,” her father said, returning her smile.

Jenny opened the truck door, Scruff jumping up inside first. She scooted him over as she got in beside him, closing the door with a thunk. “I knew you’d be back soon,” she said happily. “Scruff and me were just walking cause I thought we might meet up with you on the road. Don’t worry Dad, I took care of everything, so I weren’t running away from me responsibilities. You’ll find the farm in good working order. Helen helped of course, but I can manage on me own. I rather have you around, but at least I did it.”

She stopped to catch her breath and realized that in her excitement she hadn’t let him get a word in edgewise. She hadn’t even asked him how he was, how his trip went, how her uncle and aunt and family were, and what he did. “Sorry, I just haven’t seen you in so long, I guess I were saving all that up! I’ve so much to tell you but I want to hear all about you. How were it? Did you have a good trip?” She leaned over and gave him a good look up and down, as if examining him to make sure he was still in good health, shape, and spirits.

“Aye, it were fine,” Richard said, slightly amused at his daughter’s excitement. Sometimes her chatter could wear on him, but after not being around her for so long, her words and attentiveness were like music to his ears.

Jenny looked at him with expectation in her eyes. “And you? How are you? How’s the family?” she pressed.

Richard pulled up to their gate and stopped the truck. “Fine, we all are,” he said, not saying any more while he waited for Jenny.

She however, was perched on the edge of her seat waiting to hear more. The fact that her father was a man of few words worked out well on occasion when he was upset with her or if she had much to get off her chest. But there were other times when she wished he would give a bit more of a detailed reply. The dawning realization that he was waiting for her to open the gate suddenly hit her. “Oh!” she exclaimed, opening the door and jumping out of the truck. She ran over to the gate and opened it up, standing by as the truck rolled inside before closing it behind her. Her father didn’t wait for her to get back in and instead drove the truck over to the place where he parked it. Jenny ran along behind it and stood in expectation for him to get out of the vehicle.

“We finished moving the last of the sheep over,” Jenny said, pointing to a far meadow as her father got out of the truck. “Were you busy?”

Richard deliberated on her question before simply giving a nod of his head. “Always busy on a farm,” he said.

Jenny just smiled at his answer. “And Uncle Harold and Aunt Lucy? Are they still managing with their little ones?”

“Not so little anymore those children,” Richard said. “Like you.” He stopped before going inside the house and quickly inspected the surrounding land. “Looks good. You’ve managed well.”

“I tried,” Jenny said, barely containing the swell of pride she felt. “And Helen helped too. I wouldn’t have been able to do it all without her. If she kept coming everyday and with you back, I reckon we could do a lot more around here. Be like the old days, when it were the three of us living here together.”

Richard hesitated before picking up the travel trunk he placed near his feet. “Times have changed Jenny. They won’t be like the old days anymore.”

Jenny, her puzzlement slightly diminishing her exuberance, looked at him quizzically. “I know Helen can’t always be with us, she’s a wife and mum now, but it would be like what we used to do. Maybe just once in a while, not all the time then. Wouldn’t it be nice?”

“It’s not just Helen,” Richard said, stepping inside the house. “You and me too. You’ve grown up, can manage on your own now.”

“You’re not leaving again, are you?” Jenny asked, slightly worried. She wanted to prove herself capable (and it appeared that she had), but upon hearing his words, a concerned feeling gripped her. She knew she couldn’t stay by herself, not without her father for another week. Not after he had just gotten back. Not after she had waited so long for him to return.

“Nay, I’m staying right here where I belong. That were enough holiday for me,” he said, dropping his bag on the floor.

Jenny gave a small sigh of relief that went unnoticed by her dad. She picked up the trunk, walking it over to the stairs. “Then I don’t see why it would be much different. I’m not going anywhere neither.” She then carried the trunk upstairs and placed it in his bedroom, giving a final check over his room to make sure it was to her satisfaction, having gone through the extra effort of cleaning up the house in his absence. She trotted down the stairs back to their kitchen, where she promptly put on a brew.

“Stayed out of trouble have you?” Richard asked her as he took his seat at the kitchen table.

“Always,” Jenny replied as she filled the kettle, hiding the playful smile on her face as she got the teacups out. “You know me Dad.”

“That’s why I asked,” he responded with a teasing tone all his own.

“I went to the Daffodil Ball,” she offhandedly commented.

“Aye?” Richard looked up at her, his curiosity piqued.

Jenny moved about the kitchen, gathering some biscuits she saved for her father’s return, and placed them out on the table. “Aren’t you going to ask me who with?”

“Reckon you’re going to tell me,” he commented. “Even if I don’t ask.”

“Tristan,” Jenny said simply. At seeing her father’s half-wary and half-surprised look, she added, “Helen and James went with us too.”

“Why’d Tristan take you?” Richard asked suspiciously.

Jenny gave a shrug. “Maybe he felt like asking me. Or maybe he had no one else to go with,” she said as she placed the teacup in front of me. “Don’t look so surprised — we are friends. Have been for a long time.”

“He’s one of the biggest flirts in the county,” Richard said disapprovingly. “Hope he behaved himself.”

“He were a perfect gentleman,” Jenny commented, “and he’s not a flirt.” She paused at as she read her father’s disagreeing expression. “Not as much as he used to be.” She poured their tea and decided to change the subject. Clearly it would take time for her father to get used to the idea of Tristan being her boyfriend. Not that Tristan was officially her boyfriend, but if they continued on as they had been acting, Jenny figured it would only be a matter of time, so it was best to drop hints gradually. “You’ve hardly said a word about your trip! What were it like?”

Richard took a sip of his tea before answering her. This would’ve been the perfect time for him to get off his chest what was nagging him the whole drive back home, but he couldn’t form the words that would be necessary. They seemed to get stuck between his throat and his tongue. His words came far and few anyway, unless he was passionate about the topic. But this time, what he needed to say would hit home closer than what he was comfortable discussing with Jenny. He knew she wouldn’t like what he had to tell her, even if it was for her own good. He’d have time to talk to her another day, but at the same time, he wished he would just get it over with. The easy way won out. What he managed to say would have to suffice for what he needed to say. “Busy as you’ve ever seen me,” he explained. “Your uncle added a whole new flock of sheep and is expanding their farm. He even managed to find some decent farm hands, lucky chap.”

“Did you ask him if there were any to spare?” Jenny joked.

“We could use an extra pair of hands around here,” Richard said, glancing around the kitchen.

“I’ve done me best to keep it clean,” Jenny told him, following his gaze and worrying that her work was not to his liking.

“Aye. Looks fine. But it shouldn’t always fall on you,” he pointed out.

Jenny was a bit taken back. “I’ve always done me part. You don’t think you could get a farm hand to do women’s work in the kitchen?”

Richard shook his head. “No, but it’d give you more time for other things.”

“Like what?” Jenny asked. “Going to balls and parties?” She didn’t mean to come across so sarcastic, but her father’s attitude and perception was much changed since before he left on his trip. “What have they been talking to you about?”

“It weren’t what anyone said. I see the difference between you and your cousins,” he explained. “Your cousin Anna takes piano lessons and Lydia takes dance lessons on top of all sorts of proper schooling. Their father’s a farmer too, like me. I’ve never given you any of that. You haven’t even had a full schooling.”

Jenny’s countenance dropped a bit at that, still a sore subject for her to talk about. “That were me own decision, not yours. There were nowt you would’ve been able to do to change me mind then. And I’ve never asked for music or dance lessons. I’m not one for frilly things. Yeah, I’m a farmer’s daughter. Your daughter. I’m happy being a farmer, because I’m doing what I love. You owe me nowt, so don’t be daft.”

Richard gave a nod and said no more on the matter. He still had much to think about from his trip, and seeing Jenny again, her stubborn, fiercely independent self, devoted to whatever she had her heart set on (which right then appeared to be farming), reminded him of his late wife Joan. It was getting harder for him to remember her in detail as the years drifted by, but his daughters were a part of her, and so she would never be completely forgotten.

He wished Joan was there to talk to Jenny, to give her motherly advice on things that girls need to talk about. Richard wasn’t much for talking in the first place, and with Helen busy at Skeldale with her own family, there were times he wished the parenting didn’t completely fall on himself. Jenny seemed so grown up, especially after he saw all the work she did on the farm. It was apparent she wasn’t a little girl any longer, but at the same time, she wasn’t quite grown up yet either. There was still a lot for her to learn, and if he was being honest with himself, Richard wasn’t positive he could make sure that she had all she needed to go out in the world by herself. Jenny survived and thrived on Heston Grange, but could she do the same anywhere else? There was much more for her to learn about life beyond a farm.

Over the past year, Richard felt the need to do more with Jenny when he saw how she interacted with people. She viewed men who could be suitors as playmates, carried on with the animals as if they were her children, and spent so much time working on the farm that her knowledge of things that girls should know in life was almost nonexistent.

But Jenny was stubborn. She wouldn’t readily admit that she would want anything more than what she had if she felt it was for the greater good of the farm or her family. Of course, wanting something and needing something were two completely separate things, and Richard saw a need. A need for a mother figure in her life. Someone she could look up to and turn to when she had problems or questions. Someone who was not himself, a curmudgeonly farmer stuck in his ways (which he would only secretly admit to himself). He’d have to find a way to tell her. But not right then.

A few days passed since his return and Richard still had on his mind what lay so heavy on his heart. There was no good time to speak with Jenny — really speak with her — so he had to tell her when she was getting dinner made and before he moved the chickens inside for the night. It really was his last opportunity that he had to tell her so she could prepare in time. “Jenny, we’re going to have a Sunday tea tomorrow. Like we used to with your mother. Set three places.”

His statement caught her by surprise. “I didn’t know Helen were coming Sunday,” she said, not turning from the pot she had on the stove.

“She’s not,” Richard said, starting to walk away.

“Then who’s coming?” Jenny asked, furrowing her brow in confusion.

“A friend of mine I met last week. I’ll go pick her up tomorrow. She’s staying in town,” he said, retreating to the doorway so he could make a quick escape before Jenny could corner him with questions. She however, was faster.

“Her?” Jenny said incredulously. “Who’s her?”

“Name’s Louisa Elliott. She’ll be visiting for a while. I want you to be nice to her,” he instructed her. “Put on one of your best dresses and wash up, get that dirt out from under your fingernails.” He turned the corner, closed the door, and made a rapid escape.

Jenny unhappily dropped the spoon into the pot with a clang. Her father had a friend — a lady friend no less — that he was keeping as a secret from her. She quickly reasoned that it must be serious between them. He knew she wouldn’t like this woman for some reason and that’s why he wouldn’t tell her. In her heart, Jenny already jumped to conclusions.

Maybe the lady — Louisa… whatever her last name was — would be mean and crotchety. Maybe she disliked animals and the hair and bodily fluids that came with them. Maybe she hated farm smells. Maybe she was a picky eater and wouldn’t like the home cooked meal. Maybe she had a thing against women who wore trousers. Maybe… maybe she didn’t like widower’s daughters. Maybe she was after the farm and wanted to get married with the evil plot of killing off the family to get the Alderson inheritance (not that there was much money at all to be gained).

Jenny shook her head, clearing her mind of the vile thoughts that her imagination let her run away with. Maybe Louisa wouldn’t be so bad.

Jenny tried to fill her mind with a more positive outlook as she finished setting the table, but as she glanced at where her mother used to sit at the table, she could only think of another woman sitting there. A complete stranger. She made up her mind that no matter what Louisa was really like, she was not a friend. For whoever Louisa Elliott was, she was trying to work her way into their hearts and push all memory of Joan Alderson farther away and deeper into the grave.

Chapter Text

Jenny sat in the kitchen chair in silent contemplation with a scowl on her face and her arms crossed as she stared at the clock on the wall. She was set, did everything her father asked of her. She even got dressed up, and yet it seemed to be that their small party of three would be a party of one — and not a very jovial one at that. Their Sunday afternoon tea time was later than their usual time (on the rare occasion that they had visitors for a Sunday tea). She watched the clock hands move slowly along. Five minutes past, another five, and then yet another five. Louisa would make her father late, completely puzzling as it was not in her father’s nature to be late. How could he have changed so much so fast?

A fleeting thought that perhaps Louisa would not come at all and would hopefully be running back to wherever she came from — where she belonged — crossed Jenny’s mind, but the thought left as quickly as it came. Her dad would not waste their fuel ration to drive into the village to pick up a woman he met in a few towns over. Unless he was driving her home. Then it would be a good use of their ration coupons. Frivolous in the first place, but what passing whimsy usually isn’t? If it could end that way, Jenny might not even have cared.

The sound of an approaching truck up the drive alerted Jenny that her hopes of Louisa never even stepping foot onto their land would not become a reality. She peered out of the kitchen window and watched as her father got out of the truck and circled around to open up the passenger door. A woman who appeared to be around the age of forty, give or take a few years, stepped out. She was dressed too nicely to be a farmer with her smart suit complimented by her auburn hair tucked up under her hat and accessorized with silky white gloves and a small handbag, all of which set her apart from the usual Darrowby folk. Classy — Jenny would give her that much — but not practical for being at Heston Grange, and certainly not a match with Richard Alderson’s more rustic earthy appearance, heaven forbid a more permanent position.

As they got closer, Jenny watched carefully as they walked side by side, her father closely walking next to Louisa but not making an effort to hold her hand or loop his arm through hers. That was a good sign in itself, she reasoned. The front door opened and she hurriedly scuffled around in the kitchen to make it believable that she had been busily working while awaiting their arrival.

“Jenny,” Richard called out as he turned the corner to come into the kitchen. “This is Louisa,” he said, stepping in and allowing Louisa to be perfectly framed by the doorway.

Jenny looked over at the strange woman who wanted to usurp her from her domain at Heston Grange. “Hello,” she mumbled, looking down at the teapot and ignoring her father’s pointed stare.

“Jenny, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Louisa said, crossing the room in elegant strides and holding out her hand to shake Jenny’s hand in a friendly greeting. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Have you? I haven’t heard much about you,” Jenny said, taking Louisa’s hand in her own, and feeling a surprisingly firm handshake that she didn’t expect from those small hands hidden by fashionable gloves.

Louisa’s gaze darted toward Richard, a quick questioning look before refocusing on Jenny. “You’re quite the independent young lady I hear, managing a farm all on your own.”

“Dad and I work the farm together. He just happened to be away last week,” Jenny explained. “It’s just the two of us, but me older sister Helen will help once in a while. I’m the one who mostly takes care of the house. Hard work, but I don’t mind. We manage just fine.”

“I have no doubt that you do,” Louisa said, her eyes scanning the room and taking in the surroundings. “Can I help with anything?” she asked, taking off her gloves and putting them in her handbag.

“No, I’ve got it,” Jenny said, putting a tray of Mrs. Hall’s shortbread down on the table. “I don’t need your help.” She paused for a moment, hearing the rudeness in her tone. “You’re a guest,” she said, trying to find a plausible excuse for her harsh words.

“Those look delightful,” Louisa complimented her as she took the seat Richard pulled out for her. She daintily picked up a piece and took a small bite out of it. “They are as delicious as they look. Did you make them yourself?”

Jenny wished for once she could lie but her father was silently staring back at her and he knew the truth. “I didn’t, not completely. I brought the makings over to Skeldale and Audrey… well, she’s like me aunt… she’s the one who made them.”

Louisa raised an eyebrow at Jenny’s explanation. “Give my compliments to Audrey then. Do you bake much?”

Richard quickly shook his head, knowing the many failed experiments his daughters had worked on in their kitchen. Anything from cakes to biscuits were either inedible or if it was a good day, only burnt. In agreement with her dad, Jenny responded honestly. “I’m not much of a baker.”

“I should like to teach you someday,” Louisa said excitedly. “I have a recipe for a delicious fruit cake, and if we put our rations together, we should have enough to make one.”

“I don’t need help,” Jenny said, again a little sterner than she wanted to come across. “We don’t need cake. Not when there in’t a special occasion.”

“Well then,” Louisa said, looking back at Richard, in hopes that he might find his tongue to say a few words and save her from unknowingly getting on the wrong side of his daughter. He made no move to say anything, instead just watching their interactions play out naturally without his interference. “Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself Jenny? I’d love to get to know you better.”

Jenny looked at her skeptically. She couldn’t tell if Louisa was just being nice because her boyfriend was there (oh, how Jenny shuddered at the thought of her father being someone’s boyfriend!) or if Louisa was genuinely interested in her. “I’m a farmer. Born and raised here. That’s all really. Sugar or cream?” she asked, switching the subject back to the tea in front of them.

“Neither, thank you. I’ve gotten used to just plain tea after all the rations,” Louisa replied, but undeterred, quickly changed the subject back to Jenny. “Don’t you have any hobbies? What do you do for fun?”

“Don’t have time for hobbies,” Jenny scoffed, feeling as though she were under some sort of interrogation instead of being part of a friendly conversation. “Don’t mean I don’t have fun. I go riding me horse Joan if I have extra time.”

“Jenny would be glad to show you Joan,” Richard finally piped in, trying to break up the palpable tension he felt coming from his daughter.

“How sweet,” Louisa said with a smile.

"Now?" Jenny asked, setting down her teacup with a clank against the saucer as she watched for Louisa's reaction to her spontaneity.

Louisa glanced at Richard, who made no motion to disagree with the thought of going to see the horses right then and there. “Why not?” she said, gracefully standing up from her chair.

Jenny pushed back her chair, creating a screeching sound against the slate floor. Wordlessly, she went to the front door, not looking back to check to see if anyone was following her. Once outside, she barely even waited for Louisa to catch up. “You’re not dressed for a farm,” she commented, taking a brief glance back at Louisa’s nice shoes. “You’ll get dirty.”

“I don’t mind,” Louisa responded, quickening her pace to keep up with Jenny, who had much more practical footwear on.

“Well don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Jenny called out over her shoulder. She led Louisa toward the field where Candy and Joan were in. She occasionally threw a glance over her shoulder to see how Louisa was getting on walking through muddy ground that squished when stepped on. The heels on her shoes would surely be ruined, a real shame with the rationing going on. However, they were Louisa’s shoes and it was her decision. Jenny cleared her mind of any guilt she might previously have felt.

As they approached the horses, Joan trotted up to the gate where Jenny was. The young mare nudged her girl’s hand with her muzzle, getting the attention she desired before Candy walked over to steal some attention for her own. “This is Joan,” Jenny said, stroking the bay mare’s nose. “And that’s Candy.”

“They’re beautiful,” Louisa said appreciatively, approaching the older mare from the side before petting her neck.

“Candy’s me mum’s horse,” Jenny said, watching for Louisa’s reaction to the mention of her mother. “And Joan were her last foal that she had. Candy’s an old girl now. Can’t ride her anymore. She’s lame cause of an accident… cause of me. I took her out when I were told not to. I were warned but I didn’t listen and it turned out badly. She’s lucky it weren’t worse, but I should’ve listened in the first place. Would’ve been better for everyone.”

“Terrible shame,” Louisa said, feeling a fondness for the old mare. At the same time, she had a suspicion that Jenny seemed to be giving her some kind of hidden message or moral of her story that she couldn’t seem to figure out.

“Our Joan can be ridden. She’s a gentle one. Trained her meself. I named her Joan after Mum, since Candy were her horse and all. It’s like we’re the next generation, Joan and me, but we still make sure that we don’t forget those who came before us,” Jenny said, again stealing a glance at Louisa before looking back at Joan. “Mum taught me how to ride. Put me on Candy when I were four and I’ve been riding since. Do you know how to ride?”

“I’ve ridden before,” Louisa said. “Not as often as I would’ve liked, but I wasn’t raised on a farm as you were so I never had my own horse.”

Jenny thought as much, her first impression of Louisa being that she was from the city. Though it strangely irked her that Louisa didn’t seem to mind the muck on her shoes, Jenny still knew deep down that there was no way that Louisa would be happy living on a farm. She just didn’t fit the part and would never be able to fill the shoes of Joan Alderson. If only the truth would be that clear to Louisa.

Despite Jenny’s growing resentment of the woman who was trying to fit into her life, she continued talking, trying to feel out her true feelings. “Me mum were a farmer, and her parents and grandparents too. I’m a fourth generation Alderson farmer meself,” she said proudly, reaching out to stroke Joan’s shoulder.

“And so that’s what you’re going to do the rest of your life?” Louisa asked. “Farming?”

Jenny raised an brow and looked at Louisa as if she introduced a completely foreign thought. “There’s nowt wrong with being a farmer! It’s what I want to do, what I were born to do. Farming in’t summat they teach in schools. You learn from experience and family who’s been doing it their whole lives. Ask any Dales farmer, they’ll tell you new farmers don’t last long round these parts. If you’re born a farmer, it’s in your blood. I were born to the land to work the land.”

“You never want to leave and experience something else?” Louisa said, her curiosity getting the better of her and prompting her to continue pursuing a potentially sensitive subject. “Surely a young lady like yourself has some hopes and dreams of life beyond a farm. This is all very charming and sweet, but you’re so full of spirit to be settled down so early in your life.”

“Why would I leave?” Jenny asked defensively, though Louisa would be the last person she would admit to that she had thought of leaving many times in the past before settling on farming as her occupation. But now she wouldn’t back down. She wouldn’t lose her place at Heston Grange, not for this city woman to waltz in and try to take over. “You don’t understand, do you? Of course you wouldn’t — you’re not a farmer.”

“That’s true,” Louisa admitted. “I’m not. It’s just—“

“It’s not just a job; it’s a way of life. My way of life,” Jenny replied, straightening up and turning to face Louisa. All her frustration and fiery determination would no longer stay bottled up inside. She had to let it out. “It’s not easy, being out in whipping cold winds in the winter or hot summer heat. Or hoping the flocks and herds don’t get sick so you don’t lose them and have to start all over if you have the money to do so. You wouldn’t understand what it’s like to be up all night during a hard calving. Or working all day to bring in a crop before the rains come and being so exhausted that by the time you get to bed it’s so late but you can’t sleep because you know you have to wake up in a couple of hours and start all over again. So you lay awake and stare at the ceiling and think about the leaky roof, hoping you have enough money or time to get it fixed. But it’s either money for your next meal or money for the roof, so you decide to wait and let it leak. It’s not easy being a farmer, but we keep the country going. We’re soldiers too, but we don’t earn any medals. We just keep going and put our trust in the land and pray it don’t fail us.”

“You sound pretty tough,” Louisa said with a chuckle.

“You have to be tough to be a farmer,” Jenny countered, glaring at Louisa. “So what do you do?” she questioned her. “Or do you not work?”

“Oh goodness me!” Louisa said with a light laugh. “I’m not independently wealthy if that’s what you were wondering. I’m a music teacher.”

Jenny started to realize that her dad must have gone with his nieces to their music lessons, which was why he had specifically brought it up the day he arrived home. The pieces of the puzzle were finally falling into place. “Do you have students waiting for you when you go home?” she asked, her voice even and slightly calmer now after her earlier passionate outburst, but it was only for the sake of outward appearances and being polite, the way she was raised. Her hands gripped the fence tightly as she tried not to give into her temper.

“A few, but many have had to stop their lessons. So many families have been hit hard financially with the war,” Louisa explained.

Jenny just gave a curt nod. “So it don’t matter whether you leave or not?”

“Leave? Leave where? I don’t think I quite understand what you’re getting at…” Louisa said, looking over at Jenny.

“Are you planning on moving to Darrowby?” she asked directly.

“Moving here? Why, no… whatever gave you that notion?”

At that point, Richard walked up to the two of them, having decided that they had plenty of time to spend together to get to know each other better. Unfortunately he walked in at a point where the discussion was again starting to get lively.

Jenny looked with a scowl at her father before ignoring him, her annoyance coming through her body language despite her trying to hide it. “There in’t anyone who just comes for a visit here. We haven’t had guests other than family at our Sunday tea in years. Not since Mum were alive. Why are you really here? You didn’t just come to Heston Grange on holiday. We hardly know you!”

“Jenny,” Richard said in a warning tone.

Jenny shot back a look at him that showed her present rebellious attitude. “I just want to know! I live here, I deserve to know summat about whoever comes here!”

“Quite right,” Louisa said, reaching out to lay her hand on top of Jenny’s hand which was still resting on the fence, only to have Jenny pull back at her touch. That however did not deter her from trying to smooth out the situation. “You do deserve to know. I’m simply here in town for a visit. Your father and I met when he was visiting his brother’s family— he did tell you all this?”

“Hardly,” Jenny muttered.

“Oh dear,” Louisa sighed. “Your father invited me to come see your town and farm. We had such a nice time together and he told me much about you, I just had to come. It isn’t everyday I get an invitation like that.”

“You will go home?” Jenny asked in a dubious manner.

“Certainly, I have a job and life there. One can’t just… pull up roots overnight.”

“Not overnight maybe, but are you planning on pulling them?” Jenny blurted out. “Because you’d never last here. You’re no farmer. You’re not cut out for our way of life.”

“I—“ Louisa started before being cut off by Richard, who physically stepped in between them.

“Jenny, we need to talk,” Richard said sternly.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Louisa interjected.

“I don’t like her tone,” Richard told Louisa as he shot a glare at his daughter. He stepped forward, crowding Jenny’s space, not wanting to hear any more from his daughter. “You apologize to Louisa.”

“What did I do?” Jenny asked. “I didn’t invite her here. I didn’t ask for her to come.”

“Apologize or do I have to send you to your room?” Richard said in a low tone, the kind that Jenny hadn’t heard in a long time, not since she was a little girl and deep in trouble.

Jenny hand clenched the fence even tighter as she looked away from both her father and Louisa. “Stop treating me like a child,” she said in a low voice. “I’m an adult now and no one can tell me what to do.” With that she pushed off of the fence and stormed away.

Louisa let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding in, looking in shock as Jenny left the area in such a way that she was like an unstoppable storm.

“She’s not usually like that with people,” Richard grumbled. “I don’t know what’s got into her.”

“She’s a teenager,” Louisa suggested. “You’re her father, this is her home, and I’m what she thinks of as a stranger. She resents me being here.”

“She’ll come around,” Richard said sternly. “She’ll be sorry and come to her senses. Just needs time to blow off steam.”

“How long does that take?”

“Rest of the day, sometimes two,” Richard admitted.

“I better go,” Louisa said, taking her gloves out of her handbag and slipping them on.

“There’s no need,” Richard told her.

Louisa shook her head, having already made up her mind. “Don’t you see that it’s entirely hopeless? If I stay, I’ll drive a wedge in between you two. We could at the very least give her some time to process the fact of me being here, visiting. It’s not as though there is anything serious between us.”

Richard slowly moved his hand to her arm and held onto her as if he was afraid that if he let go she would vanish altogether. “I were hoping there might be,” he said quietly.

Louisa looked down at his hand on her arm, trying to take in what he just said. After a brief moment of shared silence, she spoke up. “If there is any kind of… connection between us, serious or otherwise, there will always be Jenny. We can’t forget about her and how she feels. She doesn’t like me, and to be fair to her, you are her father first and a friend to me second.”

“I’ll deal with Jenny,” Richard reassured her.

“Don’t be too hard on her,” Louisa asked of him. “She may seem grown up, and she thinks she’s an adult, but she’s still young.”

“I’ve been taking care of Jenny all her life. I can handle her,” Richard said, stopping for a moment. He realized that to curb Jenny’s rebellion and terrible manners, she really did need a mother figure in her life. She just didn’t realize it yet.

“I’m certain you can,” Louisa expressed her confidence in him as she stared off in the direction Jenny disappeared to. “Now if you wouldn’t mind driving me back into town…”

Richard gave a nod and walked with her to the truck. With a sigh, he started it up to bring her back into town. So much for a Sunday tea.

Chapter Text

The sound of the truck’s wheels on the gravel driveway resonated up to the hayloft, a normally quiet and serene place. It was also a good hiding place when needed, and Jenny used it to her advantage when she wanted to hide from her problems but didn’t feel like running far. She could see the truck go down the road from her perch in the barn. Once they disappeared out of sight, Jenny dropped down into the hay and leaned against a couple of hay bales, pulling her legs up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, pensively resting her head on her knees. While it felt childish to run off and hide away from her worries, she needed time to process everything. To have been thrown this her way, a situation that she hadn’t seen coming or even had a hint of what was to occur, had knocked Jenny for a loop.

Things were as serious between her father and that woman as she initially thought. Though her dad didn’t say much (not that he ever did), she could see the way he looked at Louisa and she could guess how he felt. Louisa might have been a nice woman in any other setting. Perhaps Jenny would even have looked up to her. But Louisa was trying to take the place of Richard’s wife and Jenny’s mother, which would never work out. There couldn’t be a happy ending for everyone involved. Someone was bound to get hurt. Simply put, Louisa couldn’t become an Alderson overnight. She would be as much of a fish out of water as Jenny would be in the city.

All things and options considered, there wasn’t much of a choice for Jenny. She couldn’t just close her eyes and pretend it didn’t happen, as if it were only a bad dream. She also wasn’t going to let Louisa get her way; at least, not without a fight. Jenny would protect her farm and father with every breath she had in her, though she doubted her father would see her form of ‘protecting’ as something advantageous.

Jenny knew that she had treated Louisa badly and admittedly behaved like the brat she was so often playfully nicknamed in the past. This time though, it didn’t seem so funny. She had shot out hidden insults and straight out asked rude questions, her words stinging and tone harsh. She was mean, she seemed spoiled, but in her heart she justified it, knowing she had to do it to protect her future and that of the farm.

She couldn’t hide in the loft of the barn forever, but at least when she came down, Louisa would be gone. She did have to face her father, who understandably would have a few choice words to speak to her — well deserved probably, but Jenny wasn’t looking forward to it. She had a lot to tell him too. It seemed their communication had been lacking for a while, gradually slipping enough that neither noticed to do anything about it, and had fallen to an all-time low point where her father hadn’t even bothered to open up to her and let her know about his lady friend.

With a glower that no one was there to see, Jenny eventually stood up from her spot and brushed a few strands of hay off her dress. She started climbing down the ladder and jumped off from the second rung from the bottom. Slowly she made her way back to the house, her eyes surveying her home and land. It was only days before that she had felt secure and at peace with her lot in life. Now everything was at risk of changing, and the change would hardly be for the better.

She went upstairs and changed out of her nice dress and back into her clothes meant for farm work. They were much more comfortable anyway, and while pretty clothes had their time and place for when she wanted to feel ladylike, that time and place was not then and there. She had work to get back to, without the annoyance and threat of a potential stepmother.

An hour later, as Jenny was checking on the newest lambs of the flock, she again heard the familiar rumble of the truck approaching. Making no special effort to greet her dad, she merely turned to make sure it was him, and then went back to what she was doing. Moments after the engine turned off, the sound of her father’s heavy steps squishing on the soft muddy earth made her glance over her shoulder. He stopped a few paces behind her.

He looked formidable and stern, apparently not going to let her off easily this time. Jenny stared off at the sheep in the field where she was standing, clenching her jaw as if physically biting back hurtful words, not giving him the attention he was silently demanding.

“Jenny,” Richard called to her, wanting her complete attention. She hardly flinched at the sound of her name. “Jenny Alderson,” he repeated in a louder tone. “What the bloody hell were you thinking treating Louisa that way?”

Jenny continued to stand facing away from her dad, stubbornly refusing to look at him. She crossed her arms, determined not to back down or give in. It was the only way that he would know how seriously affected she was by his actions. “I’m allowed to treat anyone any way I see fit in the way they deserve,” she said, her voice steady despite the rising irritation she felt inside.

“What you did today were unacceptable. You weren’t brought up that way,” Richard said, his own temper flaring up. “Your mother and I tried to raise you as a polite young lady who treats others the way she wants to be treated and who opens her home to others, not throws them out like they were unwanted strays!”

Jenny bit her lower lip and felt her eyes burn with unshed tears. “I’m not a bad person. I’d never throw out a stray animal,” she corrected him, making her point without saying it directly. She felt strongly that Louisa didn’t deserve her pity nor her friendship. She slowly turned to face him, but kept the distance between them. “How would I remember how Mum raised me? You obviously don’t remember Mum neither, otherwise you wouldn’t have brought that Louisa Elliott to tea here! As if she could replace Mum?! If you had any respect for Mum, any—“

“I’m not replacing your mother!” Richard angrily shouted back at her, his harsh and loud tone scattering the sheep who were grazing nearby.

“That’s what it looks like to me, because you don’t just bring anyone to tea!” Jenny exclaimed. “You are planning on marrying her, aren’t you? You just weren’t man enough to tell me!”

“Are you calling me a coward?” Richard asked.

“Yes, you’re a bloody coward! Sneaking around like a schoolboy with her. You didn’t want to tell me because you knew I’d hate her. I do hate her. I hate the thought of her!” Jenny yelled. “You don’t love me any more than you love Mum, which is obviously not at all! You don’t care what I think about her. You don’t even care about all the work I did when you were gone! And what did you do when you were gone? Did you just go on a trip to being back a wife like you go to the market to buy a hen?”

“You take all that back!” Richard said menacingly, taking a step toward her.

“I won’t.” Jenny managed only two words because of the tightening she felt in her throat as though her words would be choked out if she tried to even just breathe. As she stood still, she tried to push away the feeling of hurt and focused instead on her irritation, which seemed to push down the growing lump in her throat. “I won’t because I damn well mean it. It’s her or me. You have to pick because if she’s coming back I won’t be here.”

“Get to your room,” Richard said sternly, pointing back to their house. “I don’t want to see you again until you think about what you’ve said and did and apologize for it.”

“I’m not a child anymore. You can’t talk to me that way,” Jenny said, her hands clenched into fists, but the tremble in her voice giving away her slipping confidence in herself.

“You’re still me daughter under me roof,” Richard reminded her.

“Am I? Because you aren’t treating me like a daughter. I’m just a farmhand and housekeeper for you. Well I quit!” Jenny said, brushing past her father.

Richard swiftly turned and grabbed his daughter by her arm, holding her back for a moment. She struggled to get away but he held on, his grip strong but not hurtful, just enough so she would remember her place. “Jenny, know that you’re making up your mind for good. You can’t just quit and walk away easy as that and then think you can come back in like nowt happened. This is your life you’re talking about.”

Jenny clenched her jaw, looking around at the farm. He thought that it was her life, the fate she was destined for. Not too long ago she would have agreed. But time and time again she was reminded of a life beyond Darrowby, the one that years prior Helen told her to explore before deciding on settling into a life of farming. Jenny had already made her decision but she was free spirited enough to believe that she could change her mind if she wanted to. “You’re right,” she said in a low tone. “This is me life.” Her father’s eyes softened ever so slightly as she seemed to give in to his line of reasoning. “It’s about time I started living it the way I choose.”

With her surprising words, her father’s grip on her arm loosened and she pulled away from his touch, not wanting to listen to him or even see him any more. She had made up her mind and was going to live her life the way she saw fit to do so, and those plans left out any thought of Louisa.

Jenny stormed into the house, taking her previously bottled up fury and slamming the front door behind her, not caring whether or not she was wreaking havoc on the house she had called home all her life. Leaving behind muddy prints from her boots, she stomped up the stairs quickly, as if running away from the problems that threatened to follow her trail to chase her and find her even in the confines of her room.

Into her bedroom she ran and closed the door behind her, hurrying to her side table to get the key to lock it. She quickly put the key in the keyhole and though her hands were shaking, turned it and heard the satisfying lock. Removing the key from the lock, Jenny held it tightly in her hand, grasping it as though she was holding onto the last part of her life that she had some semblance of control over.

She walked over in a daze to her bed, the hateful words she shouted in a fury replaying in her mind. This time the lump in her throat wouldn’t leave. With a shaky breath that was not at all deep enough to try and calm herself down, she tried to compose herself, but to no avail. On breathing out, she choked on her own emotions, feeling one tear escape from one eye, another from her other eye, and suddenly she couldn’t hold back any longer. She tumbled onto her bed, sobs shaking her shoulders as she buried her head in her pillow, trying to smother the sound of her own crying.

The sun’s final rays had already disappeared from her room when Jenny propped herself up, tucking an unruly strand of hair behind her ear and roughy wiping the remaining tracks of tears off of her cheeks. She had cried until she felt as though she had no more tears. Never before had she felt so awful about what she had said, nor could she feel adequately qualified to even start on an apology to her father. What was spoken was said, and those words couldn’t be retracted.

However, her feelings about Louisa were the same, and she made up her mind that since the probability of Louisa coming back to Heston was high, she would leave for Leeds and try and find a flat and perhaps a job at Lewis’ department store. When she went for a visit there, she had it in the back of her mind that someday, if ever it was necessary, she could try city life and work in a department store. The time had finally come. It was necessary.

In the tiny closet in her room Jenny had stored away a valise that previously belonged to her mother. It was small, but it would do for her few essential possessions. She decided to start packing that night and take a train to Leeds the following day. There was no need to explain her actions to her father — he’d understand once he realized that she wasn’t home and would no longer be coming home. She had warned him that it was either her or Louisa and he seemed to make his choice. It wasn’t her. This problem was too big to be worked out during a walk through the Dales. It made all the other worries of her childhood and late adolescence seem small and insignificant. The only solution was to leave.

And while she didn’t feel guilty for the lack of explanation to her dad, Jenny knew deep down that Helen deserved to know. Her sister, her closest relative and the only other person who would feel as strongly about Louisa as she did, needed to know about how that woman planned to take over Heston Grange, starting with the defeat of Richard Alderson’s defenses. Then Helen would understand why Jenny had to leave. There was no room on the farm for two women with very different opinions to coexist in the same space.

Since she would be at Skeldale, Jenny also thought of telling Tristan, but the idea of saying such a permanent goodbye made her stomach sink. She had said plenty of farewells in her lifetime to people who had drifted into and out of her life that she thought that even considering a goodbye to Tristan wouldn’t hurt so much. But Tristan was different. He was her confidant and close friend, and while she wanted to tell him the whole truth of the situation, he too was a man. He might not understand about having an evil stepmother and instead side with her father. He had never in the past been against the idea of Siegfried remarrying, and Siegfried was the closest father figure in Tristan’s life. Surely he wouldn’t understand the depth of Jenny’s feelings on Louisa’s takeover of her life and home. Besides, Jenny couldn’t even think of the pain she would feel to say goodbye to Tristan, not knowing if she would ever see him again. Any hope of finding love with him would be shattered.

But if he happened to be at Skeldale the next morning when she was there to talk to Helen, she resolved in her heart that she would have to bid him farewell. It would be too hard to completely ignore him. Even more determined than before, Jenny finalized her rather hasty plans as she packed whatever clothing would fit in her case. There was a little room left and so she pulled out from under her bed her treasure box of sentimental items. There were many things she would like to bring, but she knew they could wait for another time. What she was looking for was Tristan’s letters from Doncaster.

From anyone else’s perspective, that might not have been the most practical thing to pack when uprooting one’s life and moving all alone to a new city, but Jenny knew that out of anything she owned, she needed those letters with her, and so she tucked them in between the two dresses she was bringing with her. Those letters would remind her of Tristan, of what might have been. If she had them, no one would get into them who shouldn’t be snooping through her personal effects. There would be no humiliation or shame connected with some letters from the Doncaster Training Base for she would have them and always treasure them.

Minding the lock that always had difficulty closing, Jenny gave the top of the case a hard shove and got the tricky latch shut. She put the case down on the floor and sat on the edge of her bed, hands trembling; whether from fear of the unknown of the next day or from her anger at her changed circumstances from the woman overtaking her father’s life, she couldn’t tell. Rather dramatically, she fell back, not bothering to turn down the covers before she collapsed on top of her bed. Though her tumultuous thoughts pestered and pricked at her emotions and memories, Jenny decided to rest as she would need energy for the next day’s journey as she started a new chapter in her life, one that she had never expected.

Chapter Text

Early the following morning, the clouds of the day before had parted and cleared way to make for the start of a day promising fair weather, a fact that when Jenny looked outside her bedroom window for what she realized would be the last time, seemed to her to be almost sardonic on the weather’s part. The early morning sunlight gave the farm such a cheery appearance; everything fresh and wet from the rain the night before, the remaining raindrops glistening on the light green leaves giving new life to the old tree branches. It however did little to lighten Jenny’s mood, though she couldn’t resist opening her bedroom window and leaning her head outside for a quick whiff of the damp earth that was as familiar to her as an old friend.

Hesitantly she closed the window, not wanting her cat Poppy to jump out. “I’ll be back for you,” she told her cat, who took a graceful leap onto the bed and curled up in a patch of sunshine spread across the quilt.

Jenny glanced around the room, taking in its appearance one last time. Though it hadn’t always been hers, it was the room that she had claimed for herself, a step into adulthood and a reminder of the years of her childhood spent on the farm as she grew into the young lady she now was. Willing herself not to get overly emotional or sentimental over a room (after all, it was only four walls, a squeaky floor, and a ceiling that occasionally leaked), she swallowed back the lump in her throat and picked up her traveling case. “Come on Scruff. We’re going on an adventure you and me.”

Her dog, who seemed to be the only faithful friend she had left, willingly trotted over to her side and sat expectantly at her feet. She clipped his lead onto his collar and though she could have sworn that a puzzled look crossed his appearance at the unusual formality of going for a walk with a lead attached, Scruff was ready to follow her to the ends of the earth.

Jenny stepped out into the hall, the house still quiet. Whether her father was already up and busy somewhere outside or if he was blissfully sleeping in, she didn’t know and frankly didn’t care. Her mind was focused on the mission she had on hand. With a determined pull, she closed the door to her room and to her past. Each step down the stairs reminded her that she was taking another step farther away from her life as she knew it. Part of her was determined to continue on, that she could not only leave but more importantly be successful in her new life. The other part was a quiet nagging in the back of her mind, the hushed whisper telling her that she was making a mistake and to turn back before it was too late, before she makes a complete fool of herself by running away. Jenny tried her hardest to push away any suspicions of her plan failing. She only wished she could convince her own heart.

She didn’t stop to grab a bite to eat on her way out; it wouldn’t have done much good anyway as it would take up precious time that she needed for her trip to the train station. And then there was the other fact that her stomach felt all knotted up as if there was no room left for anything more, despite the fact she hadn’t eaten since the morning prior. Jenny opened the front door and paused before stepping outside, as if in her heart she didn’t want to leave. Perhaps it was the finality of it all, the physical manifestation of her decision to leave her life as she knew it behind. Even if some day she did return, it would not be her front door to her house. Another woman would occupy it along with stealing away all the affections and attention of Jenny’s father. That distressing thought spurred her on to decisively step outside and firmly close the door behind her, leaving no further doubt in her mind as to her decision. Her mind was made up. She was really truly leaving.

Casting a furtive glance toward where Candy and Joan were stabled, Jenny hesitated before deciding to bid them both farewell, though they wouldn’t know any difference between this goodbye and her daily morning greeting. “Joan, Candy,” Jenny said softly, her voice quiet among the early morning songbirds and sounds of the farm waking up. “My good lasses.” She stroked the velvety muzzles of the horses, who had both stepped over to be as close as they possibly could be to her. “I’m so sorry I can’t take you, but there’s no place for a horse in the city, let alone both of you. Dad might be making a bad decision in a wife, but he’s still a farmer first. He knows animals. He won’t let anything bad happen to either of you. And Helen’ll still be here. She’ll watch over you.” Jenny wrapped her arms around Joan’s neck, hugging her horse goodbye before backing away, searing the image of her horses into her mind to carry with her wherever her travels took her.

Once she left the barn, Jenny quickly turned away and took off running down the dirt driveway. Scruff happily raced beside her, leading the way despite the hindrance of his lead. Jenny’s valise weighed her down some, but she paid no attention to it, her mind fully focused on leaving without giving into the temptation of changing her plans and staying after all. The only time she put it down was to open and shut the gate, closing it with a thunk. She gave the gate a rattle to make sure it was latched tightly, not wanting to be careless and the cause of animals getting free on her last day of calling Heston Grange home.

The road ahead was long, stretching out as far as she could see. It appeared even longer considering her only mode of transportation was her own two legs, having also left her bicycle behind. That too was not practical to bring on a bus or train, and if it came between her bike or Scruff, she would pick Scruff every time.

Jenny set off on the road ahead, even more determined not to look back but only ahead toward her future. She would be starting a new life in Leeds, full of adventure and the excitement that came standard in a cityscape. Her steps confident and strides long, she set off for Darrowby with the destination of Skeldale, an important first stop.

That morning there was no lingering doubt in her mind that she would have to tell Helen about their father and his sudden change in personality. He had never before shown any interest in a woman other than his wife, and this behavior was entirely new, not to mention absolutely ridiculous. She realized it wasn’t uncommon for widowers to remarry, but Louisa Elliott was not the kind of woman Jenny would have ever thought that her father would fall for. Helen needed to be prepared for the shock of the news, and there was no one better to hear it from than her younger sister, who experienced the interloper firsthand.

Halfway to Darrowby, Jenny’s steps became a little slower, but she trudged on. Her jaw was still clenched in that determined (perhaps even stubborn, as much as she hated to admit it) way that she got about her when she set her mind to something. Thoughts of what she said to her father the day before replayed in her mind. Regret tried to overcome her anger, but she didn’t let it. She couldn’t be swayed from her decision, not when she had come so far.

Jenny was so caught up in her own thoughts that she almost didn’t hear a farm truck rumbling down toward her. She glanced over her shoulder as she stepped to the side of the road, her first thought verging on a feeling of panic as she wondered if her father had gone out searching for her. But as the truck got closer into her sight, she saw that it was neither her father’s truck nor her father. A new feeling touched her deep down inside — a tinge of disappointment that he hadn’t bothered to go out looking for her. This unusual feeling she chose to ignore and focused instead on the practicality of the driver of this particular truck being a neighbor instead of her dad.

Mr. Dowson was driving his rusty truck in the same direction that Jenny happened to be going, and once she realized who it was that was driving, she decided to flag him down. Though she was independent, she was not stupid, nor was she too stubborn to accept help. She realized that getting a ride into Darrowby would save her time and energy compared to walking the rest of the way, both of which she needed on her side if she was to catch the bus in time.

Mr. Dowson pressed on the brakes as he saw on the side of the road a young lady waving him down. The truck came to a halt as he leaned out the window. “What is it lass?” he asked, concern etching his face as he realized it was Jenny Alderson holding onto a traveling case and her dog.

“Are you headed to Darrowby?” Jenny asked.

“Aye, getting some supplies for the sheep,” Mr. Dowson explained. His eyes darted from her full hands to her face. “Going somewhere are you?”

“Darrowby,” Jenny said simply, not wanting to explain her unfortunate circumstances. “Could I please hitch a ride with you? It’s me and Scruff, but he don’t take up much room. He can sit on me lap.”

“Darrowby, eh? And packed all that?” Mr. Dowson laughed.

“Can I have a ride or not?” Jenny asked pointedly, feeling pressed for time and not sharing his jovial mood.

“Get in lass,” he said, reaching over to the passenger door and opening it up.

With very little urging, Scruff jumped up and sat down next to the farmer as Jenny gratefully followed behind her dog and also got in the truck. “Thank you Mr. Dowson.”

“Is that your father’s?” he asked, gesturing to the valise she put at her feet.

“It’s mine,” Jenny said, tucking it underneath her legs.

The truck lurched forward as they lumbered down the road into town. Much to Jenny’s dismay, driving didn’t stop Mr. Dowson’s inquisitiveness. “He just got back from a trip, didn’t he?”

“Aye.”

“You going on a trip now?”

Jenny turned to look out the window to hide her frustration at the multiple questions being fired at her. She had to be nice as he was doing her a favor by giving her a ride into town, but it wasn’t easy to keep her temper in check when he was being so nosy. “I’m going to Skeldale. To see me sister,” she said, which wasn’t exactly a lie, though it wasn’t the full truth either.

“Where’d your dad go?”

Jenny’s jaw clenched at the additional questions on the very topic she wished to avoid discussing with anyone but Helen. “To visit his brother and his family.” And to go looking for a wife… Jenny thought to herself, causing the scowl on her face to deepen.

“He comes from a large family, do he? It’s nice to have family. The wife and I were blessed that way too. Nowt like little ones running all over the place,” Mr. Dowson said happily, apparently either obvious to Jenny’s foul mood or simply choosing to ignore it. “Too bad it were only you and your sister. At least you have each other. Did you ever wonder what it would’ve been like had you had more brothers and sisters?”

“I’ve got enough family to worry about,” Jenny scoffed, her fingers tightening around Scruff’s collar. “I don’t need any more.” And then a sudden realization hit her that made her stomach drop. Her father, he was older, but surely not too old. And Louisa? She might be pushing it, but the idea wasn’t completely out of the question. Children? Siblings?

Jenny would not stand for it. So as Mr. Dowson thankfully stopped bombarding her with questions and instead focused on talking about his children, she stewed on the fact that it was possible that her father wanted to start a new family with that woman who didn’t know the first thing about farming. The woman who spoke properly with every sentence and who undoubtedly dressed like everyday was Sunday. Tears pricked at Jenny’s eyes but before any could make their way down her face, she roughly rubbed them away before Mr. Dowson could see, if he even cared to look or take a breath from his continuing chatter about his daughter — or was he talking about his son now? Jenny was so involved and swept away in her own thoughts that she hadn’t paid one bit of attention to his one-sided conversation. She was just glad he wasn’t asking her any further questions and that he didn’t expect her to chime in.

The truck finally rolled into Darrowby and he stopped it at the curb near the greengrocer’s. “Is this good?” he asked.

Jenny nodded. “Thanks Mr. Dowson.” She climbed down from the truck and grabbed her valise in one hand while the other hand tightly held onto Scruff’s lead so he wouldn’t run off. She turned toward Skeldale, but thinking twice about going in through the front in case surgery was open early that day, she went to the back door, where she was most likely to find either Helen or Audrey, fellow women who would understand her frustrations and irritation with the opposite sex.

As Jenny made her way to the door, she stopped and looked behind her at the town square. It was beautiful. Her home town, soon to be known only in her memories. Willing herself not to cry over something she hadn’t even left behind yet, she hurried to get inside Skeldale, barging in through the back door and apparently startling Siegfried, who suddenly stopped in the middle of singing a jaunty tune by Gilbert and Sullivan.

“Jenny!” he said in a high tone, surprised at her sudden appearance in the kitchen.

Not wanting to be confronted by Siegfried, who she assumed would be the most sympathetic to her father’s case being a widower himself who stepped out with varying ladies over the years, Jenny quickly turned to make a hasty exit through the same way she came in.

“Jenny!” Siegfried repeated, moving toward her and unknowingly blocking her against the door as her trembling hand couldn’t effectively open the back door to make a quick enough escape. “What is it? Is there something wrong?”

Jenny leaned back against the door in admitted defeat. In a choked back sob, she exclaimed, “I need to talk to Helen!”

Chapter Text

If Jenny’s sudden exclamation wasn’t concerning enough, Siegfried took in Jenny’s appearance, which was a far cry from the confident young woman he was used to seeing her as. She appeared like a wild animal caught in a trap — backed into the corner she stood there trembling, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. In her one hand she tightly clutched her valise while her other hand gripped onto Scruff’s lead. “Jenny…” Siegfried said using the soft tone he normally reserved for animals and children, though she was neither. “What happened?”

Jenny took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart so her voice would come across stronger and steadier than her flustered appearance. She leaned back against the solid door, as if it were the only thing bracing her up. “I can’t — “ she choked out. “I can’t tell you.”

Siegfried cautiously approached her, gently reaching out to touch her arm. “You can talk to me,” he assured her. “Whatever it is, it can’t be as bad as you think it is.”

Jenny sniffled as she shook her head in disagreement. “You don’t understand!” she cried, flinching away from his touch as she pushed off the door to move past him, striding into the kitchen. “I have to talk to Helen! Before it’s too late!”

“Helen’s not here —“

At hearing his words, which were the last thing she wished he would have to utter, Jenny called out for her next best option. “Audrey?!”

“Not here either,” Siegfried reported as he watched her almost go down the hall in search of their beloved Mrs. Hall. “They’re both at an early Women’s Institute meeting. James is out on a call, but I’m here.”

“I can’t tell you,” Jenny stubbornly said as she shook her head again. “You’re a man and you’d only side with him!”

“Him? Who’s him?” Siegfried asked. “And what’s all this about it ‘being too late’? You’re not making any sense!”

“Me dad,” Jenny said, fiercely rubbing away the tears from her cheeks, trying to erase any memory and appearance of weakness in her resolve. “I can’t go home! Not now, not ever!”

At that point, Tristan strode into the kitchen. He was upstairs when he heard someone obviously upset, but he hadn’t expected that person to be Jenny, thinking instead that it must have been a client. His heart immediately tensed as he got close and heard her cries. “Blimey!” he exclaimed, his eyes widening at the sight of Jenny, holding back her sobs as she clutched onto an old worn valise like it was all she had left in the world. “Jenny, what’s wrong? Whatever did Siegfried say to you?”

”I didn’t do anything! She came here like this!” Siegfried spoke up before she could answer him. “And don’t ask her what’s wrong, she won’t tell you,” he said, stepping away from Jenny who had given him a warning glare.

“Jenny,” Tristan said again, ignoring his brother, concern apparent on his features and in his voice as he came closer to her. “What’s got you so upset?”

“I can’t tell you either!” Jenny said, blinking away the tears in her eyes.

“She said something about her father not allowing her back home,” Siegfried told his brother.

However, Tristan just scoffed at the idea. Richard Alderson wasn’t the warmest or kindest person he had ever met, but Tristan knew that Richard was fiercely loyal to his family and would protect his daughters with all the strength he had in him. What Jenny had said, if Siegfried had understood her clearly enough, was not in character for her father. “I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding,” he said, trying to make her feel better despite not knowing the situation at all.

Jenny shook her head. “It weren’t a misunderstanding,” she said, her voice steadier as she sat down on a kitchen chair. “After what I said, what I did… he’d never forgive me! I said I were leaving and he didn’t stop me. He’s glad to be rid of me.”

“No one’s done the unforgivable, especially not you,” Tristan said, pulling out a chair and sitting in front of her. “Why don’t you explain what happened —“

“No!” Jenny suddenly cried out, jumping up from her seat as if ejected from it. “No,” she repeated in a calmed tone. “I’m only going to tell Helen. I don’t want it getting around. Everyone would gossip about it and I don’t want people talking about family matters that are private!”

Tristan couldn’t help but have his curiosity piqued at her dramatic mysteriousness. “I won’t tell anyone, promise! And if you tell Helen, it’ll probably get around to me anyway, so you might as well tell me now and maybe I could help.”

Siegfried glanced at his brother, knowing that Tristan was pushing his luck. “Tristan… if she doesn’t want to talk about it…”

Jenny looked up at Siegfried. “You’re right, I don’t. Because if I told you, you’d probably think me dad were right in what he did. You’d do the same as him, I’m sure. And after you find out what I did, you might not like me anymore.”

“But to throw you out?” Tristan asked skeptically. “I can’t believe that you’d do anything that would cause him to push you away, let alone for good!”

“He said that if I left I couldn’t come back, so I have to go now. Start fresh, where no one knows me,” Jenny said with a new determination in her voice that was reflected in her eyes.

“What could you have done that… oh.” Tristan had furrowed his brow in confusion until it suddenly hit him: a realization of what she meant. He was quiet for a moment, not sure what exactly to say, or how much Jenny would allow him to say about it.

“What?” Jenny asked, a look of worry crossing her face as an apparent understanding reflected on Tristan’s expression.

“I just thought of something,” Tristan muttered.

“Tristan, if this is one of your schemes…” Siegfried said with a warning tone.

Tristan shook his head. “Come on,” he said, taking Jenny by the arm. “Let’s go talk somewhere… private.” He gave a pointed look to Siegfried who only responded with a raised eyebrow.

“I’ve got to wait for Helen!” Jenny protested, standing still as Tristan tugged at her arm.

“I know. And you will. But let’s just talk about this first,” he said to her.

“I already told you, I don’t want to talk about it!” Jenny exclaimed.

“But I understand what’s happening,” Tristan whispered as they moved out of the kitchen at his urging.

“What do you mean you understand?” Jenny asked, her eyes wide with concern that Tristan had somehow found out about her father’s secret lady friend and perhaps even heard about her foul attitude toward Louisa. Had Louisa been spreading the story all over town in the matter of less than a whole day? Jenny wouldn’t put it past her, though she felt the whole situation unfair, the stranger turning Jenny’s own neighbors and friends against her. Her face got stormy as she thought about it, her expression not lost on Tristan.

“I have eyes, don’t I? I’m not blind to what goes on here,” Tristan scoffed, pulling her into the dispensary and closing the door behind them.

“How’d you find out?” she asked, slowly putting the valise down at her feet, her shoulders slumping in defeat of defending and protecting her secret. As terrible as the truth was, Jenny felt a hint of relief at knowing that she didn’t have to hide her secret from Tristan and that now she had someone she could speak openly to.

He sighed, pacing the small room. “You did a good job hiding it, but the truth will always eventually come out. So let’s be honest with each other. I had a feeling about it for months now, ever since Christmas, but I tried not to think about it. You know, pretend it wouldn’t happen. That things would go on as they always have. Should’ve known better…”

“Since then?” Jenny said in surprise, her jaw dropping open in shock. “I never thought… I never would have guessed this were going to happen.” Then in a quieter tone she added, “Who else knows?”

With a shrug, Tristan stopped walking and leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms as he studied her worried look. “No one else as far as I know. Maybe Mrs. H since she seems to be all-knowing in matters of the heart. But I haven’t told anyone, honest.”

“Helen? Does she know?” Jenny continued to question him.

“I don’t think so,” Tristan replied. “So your father really threw you out?”

“We had a terrible row yesterday,” Jenny admitted shamefully, leaning back on the door and sliding down against it until she was sitting on her valise. Scruff sat down next to her and she ran her fingers through his fur as she spoke. “We said things that we shouldn’t have said to each other. It were mostly me. We were both upset, but it happened so suddenly. One day we were doing things the way things always were done and then the next day, everything’s different. He don’t even seem like me dad the way he were acting.”

“Did you try explaining what happened?” Tristan asked, looking down at her from his seat on the counter.

“He doesn’t seem to even care what I think,” Jenny said with a sigh. “It’s like I don’t even exist anymore, that me feelings aren’t important to him.”

“He’ll come around. Eventually,” Tristan assured her. “No one stays mad forever. I should know, I’ve had enough experience living with Siegfried and spending half of my life trying to get out of scrapes I got myself into and having Siegfried constantly reminding me of what I did wrong.”

“You don’t know how stubborn us Aldersons can be,” Jenny said with a roll of her eyes, knowing full well that the same stubborn streak ran through her blood too. “Dad’s going to do what he wants, to run things the way he sees fit, without me around if need be. He don’t see things the way I see it. That we were fine together before, but now… everything’s changed. Maybe it is me fault. But even if he let me back, I couldn’t stay there after what I said to him, how he’s a coward and didn’t love me. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I would think you need the support of your father now more than ever,” Tristan said quietly. “Are you sure you don’t want to go back home and try to patch things up with him? Maybe if you explain it was just an accident, that things happen, that you didn’t mean what you said…”

Jenny shook her head. “We can’t ever go back to the way things were. Not now.”

Tristan nodded curtly, understanding her point of view. “Well then. Where are you planning on going?” he asked, gesturing to the traveling case she was sitting on.

“Leeds,” Jenny said simply, silently running through her mental itinerary once more. “I might try to get a job at Lewis’s. It’s a department store. They hire single girls. It’s where Doris used to work.”

“You might be able to get away with it for a time,” Tristan said skeptically. “But if the job doesn’t last, then what? What will you do for money? For a place to stay? For food?”

Jenny shrugged. “I know I’m just a farmer. But I’m willing to learn and I’m not afraid of hard work. I’ll get a job and keep it.”

“Jenny, you have to be practical. You’ve never lived on your own before,” Tristan reminded her. “You’ve got to think of everything before you jump on a train or a bus and put down roots somewhere else. You can’t think about just yourself. There’s more at stake now. You’ll have responsibilities you’ve never had before.”

“I’ll manage,” Jenny said, pulling Scruff a little closer for comfort as she thought of the reality of her new plight in life.

“So you’d rather do Leeds than London?” Tristan finally asked.

“It’s not as far, and not as big,” Jenny admitted.

“Have you, er… have you talked to Carmody?” Tristan asked, picking up a slide for the microscope next to him and looking at it.

“Richard?” Jenny said, slightly tilting her head in contemplation. “No. Why?”

“Don’t you think you should?” Tristan suggested with a concerned tone.

“What does he know about fathers and parents?” Jenny scoffed. “He’s hardly had any experience with his own to give me proper advice or even know what to do!”

“Everyone’s got to learn sometime,” Tristan pointed out.

“Learn what?” Jenny said with a depreciating laugh. “That I were stupid and made a mistake that I can’t fix?”

“It’s not the end of the world,” Tristan said firmly. When she wouldn’t look up at him, he pushed off of the counter and got down at her level. “Listen, you’re not the first girl in this situation and you won’t be the last. You’ll get through this and I’ll help you. You won’t be alone. Your father’s upset because he has traditional views. So alright, we can deal with that. Right now the best thing to do is to call Carmody and explain what’s happened.”

“Tris…“ Jenny, now a bit confused as to what he was talking about, tried interrupting him, but Tristan was too involved in his own thoughts to even hear her.

“And if he doesn’t do anything, we’ll go to the next plan. But I think he’ll understand and do the right and honorable thing. He’s not such a bad chap when you get to know him. He’s not me, but he’s alright. You must have liked him a little at some point, it couldn’t have been just the wine. I didn’t think you were that drunk, but it’s been known to happen.”

“Tris?“

“If that doesn’t work out, you still shouldn’t have to go through this alone. Leeds might sound good for now, but people will find out. Department stores won’t keep a girl working in that condition. So the most logical thing to do is for you to get married. You could pretend you were married and then he died because of the war, but that would be a hard story to pass off all the time and everyone here would know.”

“Tris—“

“That settles it then. We’ll get married as soon as possible and then we can pass it off as our own. Attribute it to a moment of passion before marriage. People know my reputation anyway, so I wouldn’t have much to lose and then no one will know about you and Carmody. At least, not until the child grows up into a bookworm. Studying isn’t my strong point and neither is it yours.”

”Tristan!”

“What?”

“Did you just ask me to marry you?” Jenny asked, her eyes wide with shock at what she believed to be a marriage proposal, though that was not the only shocking revelation.

“I er, yes,” Tristan said with a sheepish grin. “I think I did,” he chuckled.

“Because you think I’m pregnant?” Jenny clarified, more than a little irritated at his lack of faith in her when she had told him months before that she and Carmody were not intimate that night, despite any indications he might have seen.

“Aren’t you? I mean, this is what all that was about wasn’t it? You crying, being disowned by your father, having to start a new life in Leeds where no one knows you…” Tristan said, the words barely out of his mouth before he got interrupted by Jenny.

“How dare you?! After all we’ve been through, all we’ve said about this before! I swear Carmody never touched me that way! You said you believed me!” Jenny exclaimed, bitterness sharpening her tone.

“I thought —“

“No! God, no!” Jenny said, half laughing in her fury. “You think I would have kept that a secret from you when you were the one who tried to protect me reputation and snuck me out of the house early before anyone could see? You would’ve been the first to know! I would’ve told you! Months ago! It’s March Tris, do the math. I didn’t have to finish school to know that I would’ve found out about a baby by now. If it were even possible, which it wouldn’t be because we didn’t do anything like that.”

Tristan was by then feeling quite embarrassed at his words and actions. Straightening up from his spot, he took a few steps back from her. “Then what were you crying about?”

“I told you, it’s me dad!” Jenny repeated.

“What about him?” Tristan asked, now needing to rehear the story while listening from a different perspective.

“He has a girlfriend staying at the bed and breakfast here in town,” Jenny explained with an exasperated sigh. “She’s trying to take him away from me and run Heston the way she wants it to be. But she’s no farmer. She doesn’t know the first thing about farming! She’ll run it into the ground and take me dad with it!”

“Is that all?” Tristan said with a sigh of relief.

“Is that all?!” Jenny repeated. “She’s turning me world upside down and I don’t know how to right it!”

“You need to talk to Helen about it,” Tristan said.

Jenny glared at him. “That’s what I said in the first place but you were too stubborn to listen with all your ideas!”

Tristan cringed at her words as he reached out for the door handle, opening the door up for her to leave. “I guess that teaches me not to jump to conclusions before hearing the full story. Well, Helen will be back soon. And Jenny? Let’s just… forget about this, not tell anyone about what I assumed?”

“Aye,” Jenny agreed, glad to drop the subject. “And don’t ever assume that again,” she told him firmly before a small smirk appeared on her face. “Though now I know that if I want a man to marry me I need to get him in the dispensary.”

“What do you mean?” Tristan stopped in his tracks. “You’ve been proposed to in the dispensary before?”

Jenny just nodded and wordlessly started off for the sitting room where she would wait for Helen to return.

“Jenny, wait! Who?” Tristan asked, skipping to walk by her side.

“Richard Carmody,” Jenny stated matter-of-factly. “He thought I were going to have a baby too. But I knew I weren’t so I turned him down.” She stopped abruptly and turned toward Tristan. “You meant it? About being willing to marry me even if I were carrying another man’s child? You wouldn’t care?”

“Well, I’ve always wanted my own family. And since I thought you were in a spot, it seemed the right thing to do,” Tristan explained.

“I won’t hold you to it,” Jenny told him.

Tristan gave a nod. “Thanks. But for the record, I do care for you.”

“I know,” Jenny said softly, the sudden thought of leaving him behind almost unbearable, despite his irritating insinuations. But she had to go, so she unwillingly pushed those feelings to the back of her mind, leaving only the gratitude for his friendship fresh in her mind. “Thanks for being there for me. For caring. And just so you don’t forget it, I care for you too,” she said with a smile — the first real smile she had all day.

Chapter Text

“I can’t wait around forever,” Jenny muttered, glancing at the ever-moving hands of the grandfather clock that stood sentinel in the sitting room. She sat on the edge of the sofa with her belongings at her feet, poised for leaving yet frozen to the seat in anticipation of her sister’s return. “I’ve got a train to catch and if Helen doesn’t get back soon I’ll miss it.”

Tristan stood farther away, walking back and forth between the dining room and the sitting room, pretending to keep busy but all the while keeping an eye on Jenny. He saw her nervously fidget with Scruff’s lead, watched her check her wristwatch countless times, and glanced over when she made any little move of getting up, only to settle back in her seat. He knew that time was running out, but as she was already well aware of that fact, he decided reassurance was needed more than agreement. “I’m sure she’ll be back within—“ he started to say, but then as if right on queue, Helen herself walked in through the front door of Skeldale House, with Audrey following right behind her.

“Jenny!” Helen happily exclaimed at the sight of her sister sitting on the sofa. However her smile soon faded as she took in Jenny’s troubled expression. “What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

“Would you care for a drink?” Tristan offered before Jenny could answer Helen. “Tea or… something stronger? You might need it.”

“Tris!” Audrey scolded him, causing him to shrink back after hearing in her tone of voice that he better behave.

Jenny bit her bottom lip, her gaze flicking to Tristan with a quick meaningful look that silently asked for him to leave her alone with Helen and Audrey. “Not really,” she quietly answered Helen, her feelings much more in check than they were earlier, having had time to calm down somewhat. “It’s Dad.”

“Oh, Jenny,” Audrey said, quickly stepping behind the sofa and gently placing her hand on Jenny’s shoulder in a comforting gesture.

“What’s happened?” Helen worriedly asked, her mind racing with all the possible scenarios of what might’ve happened to her father, from the relatively minor to the very worst. “Where is he?”

“Home. I think. I don’t know,” Jenny admitted, looking down at her valise.

Helen’s eyes widened as she caught Jenny’s gaze fall down to the traveling case at her feet. Realizing she hadn’t moved from the front door from the surprise and suddenness of Jenny’s visit and worrying reason for it, she hastened to step into the sitting room and sat on the sofa next to her sister, angling herself so she could look Jenny in the eye. Though the valise gave Helen cause for wondering where Jenny might be going or why she had even brought it along in the first place, her main concern at the moment was on her father.

“Well, is he hurt? Sick? Or… what is it?” Helen said, blurting out possible situations she hoped weren’t the cause for Jenny’s visit.

“Worse,” Jenny solemnly replied.

Audrey let out a small gasp. “Jenny, he’s not…” she said in a hushed tone, with her words trailing off at the end as she couldn’t bring herself to say what she was thinking.

Jenny shook her head. “He’s alive alright. But I don’t know what’s got into him,” she said, reaching down to absentmindedly pet Scruff’s head as she thought of how to tell Helen exactly what was wrong. “He went on a trip and came back with a lady friend and I think he’s going to marry her.”

“What?!” Helen exclaimed in disbelief.

“Told you that you needed a strong drink,” Tristan quipped from the corner of the room, though no one paid him any more attention.

Audrey, a bit taken aback by Jenny’s announcement, blinked at the girl as she contemplated what that meant and what that had to do with Jenny’s distraught look and the valise at her feet. “Oh. That’s…”

“Terrible!” Jenny finished Audrey’s thought with her own opinionated conclusion to the matter. “You don’t know what she’s like, what she’s doing to him.”

“Dad’s getting remarried and he hasn’t told me?” Helen said, visibly shocked at the news. “I can’t really believe it. It’s not like him, not to tell you or me anything about it.”

“Well, I don’t know if he’s getting married yet,” Jenny clarified. “But you should’ve seen him with her. She’s not anything like Mum but she can do no wrong when it comes to Dad. He stands up for her, every time, even when I tried to tell him what I thought of her. He chose her over me.” She looked down at her hands clenched together in her lap, unable to look Helen in the eye.

Audrey soothingly rubbed her hand against Jenny’s back. “I don’t think he’d ever choose anyone over you.”

Jenny raised her head to look up at Audrey. “That’s because you haven’t seen him with her yet. She’s trying to take over everything — the house, the cooking, even the farm! Like she knows anything about being a farmer when she weren’t even raised one. She’ll run the place into the ground!”

“Maybe you could help her learn,” Audrey suggested, trying to think of a peaceable solution for everyone involved.

“I won’t be there,” Jenny said firmly, her jaw clenched determinedly. She took a deep breath before telling Helen her real reason for coming to Skeldale. “That’s why I came. Both to warn you and to say goodbye.”

“Jenny,” Helen said, reaching out to take Jenny’s hand in her own. “What are you talking about? You can’t just leave!”

“I can because I’m going to. I’m taking the train to Leeds,” Jenny announced.

“It can’t be that bad!” Helen said, desperate to stop her from leaving. “Dad would never do anything to hurt us, especially you, his pride and joy! Jenny, he loves you!”

“You didn’t hear our row,” Jenny said quietly, replaying in her mind yet again their awful argument. “He doesn’t want me there anymore.”

“He said that?” Audrey asked.

Jenny hesitated, trying to think of the exact words he used, but couldn’t recall them to mind at that moment. “I… I’m sure he did.”

Helen shook her head in denial. “I don’t know this… woman… but I do know Dad. I trust him. He’s always said family comes first and he’s never done anything that would risk us falling out and drifting apart.”

Jenny raised an eyebrow. “Has he? What about that time when he sent the cow with TB to Mallock’s so the farm wouldn’t get shut down? It could’ve cost James his job, all that he ever worked for. And James is family!”

“So sometimes he makes mistakes,” Helen quickly corrected. “We all do!”

“And he’s making one of the biggest mistakes of his life now, but I won’t be around to watch him do it,” Jenny said determinedly as she stood up from the sofa. “I’ve got to go, but I just had to see you again before I left.”

“Jenny, no, you can’t go!” Helen said, swiftly standing up from her seat. Though she was concerned about her father’s unusual hasty decision in bringing home a wife (or a woman he was only interested in, she wasn’t quite clear), that worry faded into the background when she compared it to the thought of Jenny leaving for the city. She reached out to grab hold of her sister’s arm but Jenny only pulled away from her grasp.

“I have to,” Jenny told her, gazing into her sister’s eyes, shiny with unshed tears.

“She’s right you know,” Tristan piped in, casually leaning against the wall, apparently having had listened to their conversation the entire time from the sidelines but went unnoticed. “She’s a train to catch and she’s going to be late if she stays any longer to talk.”

“I’m taking the bus to the station,” Jenny announced, but as she did so, Siegfried, who had been passing by in the hall getting surgery set up for the day, stopped in his tracks.

“The bus? It just left five minutes ago,” he said casually before continuing on with his work and choosing to ignore the family drama playing out in his sitting room. Unlike Tristan, he understood when he wasn’t wanted for a private conversation, and his curiosity didn’t win out over his desire to stay on the good side of all three women, each with their own strong personality.

Jenny, with a look of panic in her eyes, reached down to grab her traveling case, as if she could leave right then to chase down the bus that was already long gone and on its way to its next destination. “What am I going to do? I can’t walk to the train station!”

“I’ll drive you,” Tristan quickly offered, pushing off from the doorframe and walking over to her. “I’m sure we can beat that old bus and make it there in no time at all.”

“Tris!” Helen exclaimed. “Don’t encourage her! This is Jenny’s home! She can’t just run away because-“

“Because another woman comes into Dad’s life?” Jenny interrupted Helen. “Do you think I’m a coward for running away? Even if I am, you can’t change me mind. I made me mind up yesterday and I’m sticking to me plans. I can’t stay. I… I can’t. Please understand.” She took a step closer to her sister and steadily looked her in the eyes, hoping that Helen would grasp her plight and the reason why she had to leave.

“Jenny…” Helen said, her voice getting too choked up to continue, but the tone of apprehension still coming through as she spoke. “I can’t lose you because of this,” she whispered.

“You’re not losing me,” Jenny reassured her. “I’ll always be your sister. I’ll always need you. Just… in Leeds instead of at Heston. It’s not so far away.”

Tristan reached out to tug on Jenny’s elbow, the steady pressure of his grip helping to ground her instead of giving into her emotions. “Come on,” he urged her. “We have to leave soon if you plan on making that train.”

Jenny looked up at him and nodded in agreement. Turning back to her sister, she said, “I’m sorry Helen. I wish it could be different.”

“You don’t have to go!” Helen pleaded with her, the feeling of suddenly losing her little sister to the big city feeling overwhelming and, in a way, like she was losing a part of herself.

“She has to go,” Tristan corrected Helen. “Don’t stop her now or make her change her mind. Let her live her own life.”

Helen, giving into the realization that there was nothing she could do to stop Jenny from leaving, wordlessly pulled her sister into a tight hug, holding her as if she never wanted to let go. “Be careful,” she said as she finally pulled back from the hug, yet still keeping her grip on Jenny’s arms. “Take care of yourself and keep your wits about you. It’s a big city, Leeds. Not at all like Darrowby and what you’re used to.”

“I know,” Jenny said, and despite everything, she couldn’t help but give a small smile at Helen’s concern. Her older sister would always worry about her, but instead of being completely constricting, she knew that at the same time, Helen’s concern translated into support if she ever needed it. That constant in her life was comforting in itself, and not at all unusual, as they were closer than most sisters; their relationship stretched deeper than just two siblings separated by eleven years. In return for Helen’s concern, Jenny assured her, “I’ll let you know I got there alright.”

“Promise?” Helen asked, blinking back tears before they had a chance to fall.

Jenny gave her a nod. “Promise.”

During the brief moment of silence that fell between the two sisters, Audrey stepped over to also give Jenny a farewell hug. “We’ll miss you Love,” she said softly. “Don’t forget you can always come home to us. If ever you need to.”

Jenny closed her eyes as she felt the love radiate from Audrey’s comforting hug. Audrey had always been like an aunt to her, the mother she wished she had. If only Louisa were more like Audrey, maybe she wouldn’t have had to end up in her current predicament, heading off to the big city.

With some reluctance to let go, yet knowing she had to before she gave in and changed her mind, Jenny stepped back from Audrey’s loving embrace and turned to Tristan. “You’ll really drive me?”

Tristan nodded. “I’ll go get the keys to the Rover,” he told her, darting off to the hallway hook where he knew Mrs. H had put them back the evening before after finding them in the pantry next to some cheese.

“Tristan?” Siegfried said with a warning tone as he popped his head out of the examination room, sensing trouble or mischief brewing — either of which would not at all be surprising considering it was his younger brother that he heard talking about something to do with the Rover. “What are you doing?”

“Just borrowing the Rover,” Tristan said nonchalantly before scurrying off. “Come on Jenny!”

Jenny gave one last lingering look at her sister and Audrey before running after Tristan, dog and traveling case in hand. When she decided the night before that she was leaving, she hadn’t expected it to be so hard to follow through on her plans. But she was going, and there was no turning back now.

Chapter Text

Tristan and Jenny ran out through the back door before Siegfried could stop them from taking the Rover. "Come on!" Tristan exclaimed, pulling Jenny along as if by sheer force alone he could expedite the whole process.

Jenny, trying to hold onto everything at once while not tripping over her dog or even her own two feet, consistently banged the valise against the walls during their hurried escape. Once outside, Tristan opened up the passenger door to the Rover and Scruff jumped in on queue, trailing his lead behind him. Jenny flung the valise into the back before sliding in after her dog.

"Let's go!" Tristan said, putting the key to the car in the ignition and being very grateful when the engine started up on the first try. He backed it out of the driveway just as Siegfried came out, calling his name for an imminent return.

“I know we can make it there before the bus since it has a few stops in between Darrowby and the station,” Tristan assured her, stealing a look at his wristwatch to check the time as he hastily drove through town, startling some of the townspeople walking who were afraid he didn’t notice them.

Jenny just nodded, her thoughts elsewhere. “I… I hope I’m doing the right thing. Helen and Audrey, they seemed to think me place is at home. What if they’re right? What if I’m making a big mistake leaving like this?”

“Regrets Miss Alderson?” Tristan asked, a bit of suspicion noticeable in his voice.

“I don’t know. I don’t even know how I managed to say goodbye to them without crying,” Jenny admitted. “Must not have been any tears left.” She reached over and pulled Scruff closer to her side, the dog climbing up onto her lap to look out the side of the car. “You don’t seem to mind me going,” she casually stated.

“Mind? Of course I—“ Tristan started to say before stopping himself. “I had to get you out of there before they changed your mind.”

“But… what if they were right? To try and change me mind?”

“They might be. But if you never leave, then you might wonder someday what would’ve happened if you had taken the chance when you had it.”

“But if I go, then won’t I wonder what might’ve happened had I stayed?” Jenny countered. More than an opposing argument, she was searching for reassurance that she was making the right decision, and hoped that she would find that reassurance from Tristan, who had been her longtime partner in crime for years. He was the one who enjoyed hearing the gossip she got from the kind of eavesdropping only a child could do, she helped him with pranks and practical jokes (like the time they decorated the Rover for James and Helen’s honeymoon trip), and they effortlessly had an ongoing banter between the two of them that could pick right back up after a long period of separation. Now more than ever she needed his affirmation that what she was doing was the right thing to do.

Tristan feigned indifference to her logical question, but was rather pleased that she might be thinking of her decision to leave from a different angle. Everyone else was so dead set on her not going that their refusal might have only fueled her stubborn desire to take action and follow through on her plans. He, however, had a different outlook. By going along with her plan, she might lessen up on her fight to prove that what she decided on was right and could look at her decision from a more neutral approach. “Am I hearing a hint of remorse over your decision?”

Jenny shook her head. “No. Not about going. Just about leaving Helen.” She looked down, fingers threading through Scruff’s fur. “I know I don’t live with her anymore, not like before she got married. But it’ll be different knowing she’s farther away than a trip into town. I want to go, I do. But it’s hard to leave Helen. She’s me sister, but we’re closer than most sisters. She’s like a mum to me really. And when I think about leaving her, I get a knot inside thinking of how much I’ll miss her.”

Tristan’s jaw clenched as he realized that she was still set on leaving. Just when he thought he was getting somewhere, though that would have been too easy to get her to change her mind. There was more time however, and he was just as determined as she was. “She’ll miss you too.”

“And you? Will you miss me?” Jenny asked nonchalantly, barely glancing over at him.

“Sure, I’ll miss you.”

“Do you think I should’ve stayed?”

“Do I have to answer that?”

Jenny went silent for a moment, the pause between them stretching longer than necessary before she continued. “Why did you really want me to go? Honestly?” she said with a wry smile.

“‘Honestly?’ You make it sound as if I haven’t been completely honest with you all along,” he scoffed in reply. Though her doubts had some validation, he would never admit it. “I’m taking you to the station because I know that if you care for someone — truly care — sometimes the kindest thing you can do for that person is to let them go. Set them free to live their own life and make their own decisions.” Tristan knew for a fact that what he stated was true. It didn’t mean that he really wanted her to go, nor did he ever explicitly state that he wanted her to stay. He tried to leave his answers open-ended for her to draw her own conclusions, but Jenny didn’t seem to fully grasp the nuances of his answers.

“Are you setting me free Tristan Farnon?” Jenny asked.

“You’ve been free for a long time,” Tristan said with a smile. “And you’re not afraid to be free. That takes guts.”

Jenny shook her head. “No, I am. Afraid. Scared. Now that it’s happening.”

“It’s normal to be scared of some things—“

“Says the man who once told me he weren’t scared of anything!” Jenny retorted.

“That’s beside the point. I do have… some fears. But you, you’re strong. And brave. You’re on your way to the train station to start on a new adventure. You don’t just dream things up but you do them. If that’s not bravery, I don’t know what it is.”

“Stupidity?” Jenny said with a self-depreciating laugh.

“You’re not stupid,” Tristan reassured her.

“Sometimes… what I do. What I say. I don’t mean it until I’ve already done it or spoke it and it’s too late to go back,” Jenny said with a sigh.

“If there’s one thing I learned,” Tristan said, “especially from living with Siegfried, is that it’s never too late to apologize.”

Jenny went quiet, contemplating his words and thinking about her dad. The farther they got from Darrowby, the more real her new situation in life felt. She was scared, a feeling of dread creeping up inside of her that she couldn’t get rid of, no matter how hard she tried to. The thought of leaving all she’d ever known to go to a city where she knew no one was terrifying.

How she wished she could go back in time and calmly have talked things over with her dad. How she could’ve made him understand her feelings about Louisa and find out what his intentions were to this strange woman he brought home. And after their argument, alone in the calm after the storm, Jenny wasn’t even sure then if he had ordered her to leave, or if it was only something that she had merely made up in her mind and foolishly acted on, creating drama and heartache in the interim.

As they motored through the Dales to the train station, Tristan kept looking over at Jenny, trying to gauge by her appearance alone how she was feeling. He could tell that despite her current reserve of emotion, she still was brooding over her situation with her father.

"Want to talk about it? What she’s like, your dad’s girlfriend?" Tristan asked, quickly glancing over at her before looking back at the road in front of him. When he only got a stormy glare back at him, as if he was opening up old wounds, he cleared his throat and decided to drop the subject. "Or not."

He kept driving, occasionally stealing a look at Jenny now and again, who had fallen quiet. He wished that he could just change her mind for her, knowing that what was best for her would be to go home and apologize to her father so everything would be back to normal — mostly. Tristan secretly was contemplating on how he could use the mastery over ‘The Look’ right then to get Jenny to change her mind without him uttering a word.

Mrs. H had complete mastery over The Look. In fact, Tristan even wondered if she invented it. With just a glance, she could get himself or Siegfried — or really, almost anyone who knew her well enough — to do what she wanted them to do, which was typically the right thing to do anyway, just sometimes hard to realize at the moment. Why Mrs. H didn’t try The Look on Jenny, Tris didn’t know. If he was her, he most certainly would’ve tried it out.

Perhaps it was a look only women could learn. Maggie was pretty good at her own variation of The Look. She could tell what he was thinking and pry out those thoughts he tried to keep to himself and turn them into audible words.

Jenny didn’t seem to have learned it yet. Or, maybe she just hadn’t tried it on him. Though there he was, driving her to the train station against his better judgement. There was some sort of pull to her that might not have had to do with The Look — or she was using her own distinct variant on it that he wasn’t consciously aware of.

In any case, Tristan knew that he didn’t possess the ‘mystical powers’ that Mrs. Hall had inherently. If he did, he would’ve practiced each day until he had it perfected, making everyone smoothly follow his commands and direction. His own charm would have to suffice, though it certainly didn’t help him right then. There had to be another way to stop Jenny from making a big mistake.

Jenny’s unusual silence was unnerving to Tristan, so after a while, as he had neither an audience to talk to or someone he could chat with, came up with an idea that seemed like a good one at the time. Without warning, he pressed on the brake and pulled the Rover to the side of the road, shaking Jenny back to reality and out of her preoccupation with her own thoughts.

“What happened?” she asked, looking around to see if there were any hazards in the road. Upon seeing none, she then checked the gauge to see if the car had run out of petrol, which she needn’t have done as it was already apparent by the continued purring of the engine that they had plenty of petrol left. For a while the only sound that could be heard at their current isolated location in the Dales was the Rover’s running engine and a few birds chirping from a nearby tree.

Tristan opened up his door and stepped out of the car, moving around to Jenny’s side and promptly opening up her door as well. “Get out,” he commanded her.

Jenny couldn’t hide the bewilderment on her face. “What?”

“You heard me. I said, get out,” Tristan repeated. When she made no move to exit the car, he sighed dramatically. “Don’t make me repeat myself a third time.”

“Why should I?” Jenny questioned him, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

“Must you always question everything?” Tristan answered her with a teasing tone as she finally, albeit reluctantly, got out of the Rover. “Other side Jenny. You’re going to drive the rest of the way.”

“Me?” Jenny squeaked out, taken aback by his offer. “Drive the Rover?”

“Yes, you,” Tristan chuckled. “You do know how to drive, don’t you?”

“Aye, but only me dad’s truck,” Jenny said, hesitant about telling him the extent she knew, but knowing she should be truthful for the good of them both and the borrowed car. “And even that I haven’t taken any farther than into town and Dad doesn’t let me drive it fast.”

“Well here’s your chance. You can drive this beauty both far and fast,” Tristan said proudly, sliding into the passenger seat with a nonchalant air. He leaned back and crossed his arms against his chest, looking completely relaxed and far too comfortable for a person going for a ride with an inexperienced driver.

“I don’t understand-“

“Look, you always take a long walk to clear your head, don’t you?” Tristan asked, though already knowing the answer. She reluctantly nodded in response. “Then think of it this way: in a car, you can run away from your troubles much faster and farther than you can on foot.”

“You’re daft,” Jenny scoffed, though she was amused at his reasoning.

“Well what are you waiting for? Get going, or you’ll miss your train!” Tristan exclaimed. “Oh, and uh, I’ll take over the driving in town. That way in case anyone we know happens to see us, word won’t get back to Siegfried that I let you drive. I mean, I trust you, but you know how particular Siegfried is about his car.”

“You sure it’s okay?” Jenny checked with him once again as she put her hands on the steering wheel, feeling as though she was going to do something she would get in trouble for later on.

“I won’t breathe a word to a soul,” Tristan confidently said.

Jenny shrugged, deciding she hadn’t much left to lose. Shifting the car into first gear, she floored the accelerator and took off much faster than she expected, loose gravel spraying as the car lurched forward down the road. With a determined and concentrated look, she quickly continued raising the speed and took off toward the train station.

Tristan, though only slightly worried that she might do some damage that could be noticeable, soon settled into his seat and enjoyed the ride, the wind whipping through his hair as they whizzed through the Dales. Scuff scrambled onto his lap and stuck his head over the door to get the best spot for taking in the many scents that quickly floated by.

They didn’t speak a word until they got closer to the town. Jenny was much too concentrated on driving, and loving every moment of it, taking the curves quickly. It was on one such curve that she finally spoke again to him, not turning to look at him but instead staying focused on the road ahead. “Back at Skeldale — you proposed,” she brought up suddenly, her bluntness leaving no room for misinterpretation or flowery romantic speech. “Did you mean it?”

“I wasn’t joking,” Tristan admitted.

“So you were serious? About wanting to marry me?”

Tristan nervously glanced at her. “You said you wouldn’t hold me to it.”

“I’m not. I were just wondering.” Jenny looked back at him, tossing her windswept hair over her shoulder and out of her eyes. “Wondering if you were only doing it to save me honor.”

“Isn’t that a good enough reason?” he asked.

“I think a marriage should be based on summat more than just because you think me reputation calls for it. I don’t need you being me hero. Not even to save me from me own dad. I can handle him,” she said firmly.

“Oh, I see perfectly how you handle him,” Tristan smirked. “That’s why you’re running off to Leeds.”

“That has nowt to do with anything!” Jenny countered.

“Doesn’t it?”

“It’s a completely different circumstance than what you thought!” she said, taking her eyes off of the road and focusing entirely on Tristan. “And even if it were what you thought, if I were having a baby without being married, I wouldn’t marry someone who doesn’t love me, who’s doing it just to do the honorable thing.”

“You think I don’t- hey, look out!” Tristan suddenly exclaimed, reaching over and jerking the steering wheel to the left, trying to avoid a head-on collision with a large truck. The Rover swerved to the side of the road. He heard the blaring horn as a warning sound and then, as he braced for the oncoming impact, it all went black.

Chapter Text

Tristan didn’t even realize at first that he had subconsciously closed his eyes so as not to see the imminent tragedy, but he soon came to the correct conclusion that he must have done so as he had to open his eyes to see what damage was done. Thankfully, there was no crash, no being thrashed around or ejected from the car. In fact, they were still moving steadily along, Jenny having reclaimed her favored position in the middle of the road.

“That were close,” she commented, not flustered at the near miss.

Tristan took a deep breath and leaned back in his seat, grateful to be alive from not crashing into an oncoming truck and just as pleased that the car was not damaged — another reason to be grateful that he would be alive, not having to face Siegfried’s wrath. “We’re all in one piece,” he said incredulously, turning in his seat to look back at the truck driving off in the other direction. “I thought we were goners for a moment there.” He slumped back in the seat and took a deep breath as he looked over at Jenny, who appeared unshaken but whose hands were firmly gripping the steering wheel so as to stop their trembling. “Don’t feel bad. That’s not the first time this car has almost crashed. Even I’ve gotten distracted before and almost hit into someone. Well, I did hit something, but it wasn’t the other car.”

“And? It couldn’t have been that bad. You’re still alive to tell the tale.”

“I assume you mean Siegfried finding out?” Tristan asked wryly. “My accident incurred slight damage and he didn’t find out until later on, but I think I managed to outrun Siegfried’s anger. He didn’t bring it up again but I’m sure I paid for it somehow.”

“So maybe I should just drive and not talk so I’m not distracted?” Jenny suggested. “Wouldn’t want you to get in trouble with your brother.”

“Maybe that is the wisest idea,” Tristan agreed.

Finally, after a few more minutes of driving in silence, Jenny slowed the Rover down as more houses and buildings came into view. “Your turn?” she asked, to which he nodded and she pulled over to the side of the road. She left the car running as she got out and reclaimed her position on the passenger side.

It didn’t take long for Tristan to notice that since she had been driving, Jenny’s countenance had completely cleared from the stormy scowl she wore earlier. “Thanks for letting me give it a try,” she said with a smile.

“Anytime,” Tristan said offhandedly.

“Really?” Jenny’s eyes lit up. “You mean it? Even though I were driving when that truck almost hit us?”

“You might have been in his lane just a little bit,” Tristan pointed out with a chuckle. “But yes, you can drive again. Of course, it’s easy for me to say because you won’t be here.”

Despite her hopes dropping, Jenny lightly laughed too. “Maybe I should buy meself a car,” she suddenly announced.

“What? You think you’ll need one in the city?”

“You were right — it helped to clear me head. It’s much better than walking,” Jenny said. “I think I could even talk about Louisa now.”

Tristan skeptically looked at her before continuing on with the touchy subject. It seemed to be a good sign that she was opening up more. Perhaps she would change her mind after all, before it was too late. He would never try and force her to make a decision — he knew how it was living under someone else’s shadow and always ending up doing what the other person wanted. But if he could lead her to the better outcome, he’d find it a worthy cause to continue to pursue. “You want to talk about her?”

“You wanted to know what she was like. That’s the problem with her — I can’t think of anything bad about her,” Jenny said with a sigh. “Not really bad, like she’s some gold digger or a thief. I mean, we don’t have money or anything worth stealing. Other than me dad, whom she seems to have her eyes set on.”

“So why don’t you like her?”

“I don’t know,” Jenny said, looking out the side of the car at the passing scenery. “I wish I knew. Then I’d have a real reason to dislike her without just feeling it with no explanation why. But the more I think of her, the less mad I get and the more ridiculous I feel. Maybe it’s just she’s too… perfect.”

“Perfect?” Tristan questioned her. “If she’s really perfect we could introduce her to Siegfried and maybe get her off your father’s trail.”

“That’s not fair to anyone,” Jenny said firmly. “You and I both know Siegfried’s already in love with someone else… he just doesn’t know it yet. Or doesn’t do anything about it.”

“But even for this so-called ‘perfect woman?’”

“Even for her,” Jenny confirmed.

“How old is she?” Tristan asked, looking in the rear-view mirror and straightening his necktie. “I might be able to charm- Ow!” He flinched at Jenny’s whack on his arm.

“Don’t you start!” Jenny said sternly, though she had a grin on her face.

“Alright, alright!” Tristan laughed. “So we’re back to square one. She’s ’perfect’ but not perfect enough for Siegfried because he’s already taken and you say I can’t try,” he stopped mid-sentence, leaning closer to the car door in case she decided to hit his arm again. “It is intriguing though. I’ve never meet anyone perfect before.”

Jenny rolled her eyes. “So maybe not perfect, but close enough. It’s what’s so maddening. Anything I said or did — and I were rude, terribly rude! — she didn’t care, didn’t fuss. Didn’t even come back with some smart crack. Just took it and moved on with summat nice to say.”

“So maybe it’s not Louisa that you don’t like,” Tristan said slowly, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. “Maybe it’s more the idea of her that you’re against.”

“What do you mean?”

“You think she’s going to both replace your mum and take your dad away from you. That all the love and attention he gave you will be exclusively hers,” Tristan explained. “And you’re jealous.”

“Me? Jealous of her?” Jenny huffed, her sudden bravado silencing her into solemn realization.

“It can happen. I know. Happens to me every time I feel threatened that someone is going to replace me in Siegfried’s eyes,” Tristan admitted quietly, thinking of his first encounters with both James and Carmody. Even the young boy Andrew, who charmed Siegfried with a mutual love of rats, natural veterinary ability, and good manner. “I know it sounds silly, but it’s true. You work your hardest to be the person they want you to be, and then someone else waltzes in and so easily is everything you’ve been trying to work at for years. It’s not fair so you lash out and put on the act of ‘I don’t like you taking my place, so I’m going to pretend not to care and I’m going to treat you terribly so you leave.’ That sounds awful, but you get the idea.”

“Yeah, I do,” Jenny quietly replied, understanding exactly what he meant.

Tristan pulled into the car park at the train station, turning off the idling engine before getting out, his more methodical approach in direct contrast to Jenny’s chaotic attempt to get herself and her possessions out of the Rover.

“Well, here goes nowt!” Jenny exclaimed, looking at the time on the large clock on the outside of the train station. She flung open her door, Scruff bounding out of the car and pulling on his lead to sniff the new surroundings. In her hurry, she almost forgot her valise. “Oh!” She turned to get it but in her haste, the case tumbled out of the vehicle and the latch that rarely fully latched opened up, causing her belongings to scatter on the ground. “Bloody hell!” she muttered. Tristan gave her an amused look at an exclamation he never heard her voice before, causing him to smirk despite the seriousness of the situation.

“Here, let me help,” he said as she stepped in to pick up bunched up pieces of clothing that were obviously not folded in the first place due to her quick decision to leave home.

“Never mind, I got it,” Jenny grumbled, taking her clothes from his hands and stuffing them back inside the broken traveling case.

What she didn’t happen to grab before he did was the stack of letters tied together with a ribbon. Letters that were very familiar to his eye. He didn’t need to study them long to satisfy his curiosity as to who they were from. “These are mine,” he said quietly, grinning as he realized that out of all the things she could’ve packed (which wasn’t much), she decided to bring his letters with her. “You kept them.”

“Course I did,” Jenny said, slightly embarrassed that he found them, only adding to the humiliating moment of his helping her grab her dresses and knickers and repack them in the public car park. “I’ll take them,” she told him, reaching out to grab the bundle before he did anything further with them.

“I have yours too,” Tristan admitted as she tried latching the case closed again. She looked up with a surprised expression on her face. “Under my bed, where no one dares to look,” he chuckled.

“You kept me letters?” Jenny asked, stopping in her attempt as she squinted up at him, the bright sunlight blocking a clear view of his face. “All that… silly nonsense I wrote you?”

“You kept mine and they were no better,” Tristan pointed out. With a swift motion, he got down and shoved the top of the case down, just in time for Jenny to quickly latch it closed before it popped open again. “There,” he said firmly, picking it up, grateful that nothing else spilled out. “Want me to walk you there?”

Jenny shook her head. “I got it from here,” she said, not wanting him to unknowingly make it more difficult for her to leave.

"Then I guess this is it," Tristan said somberly. "Our final goodbye."

"Don't put it like that," Jenny said quickly, reaching out to take the valise from him and clutching the handle of it even tighter. "We'll see each other again."

"When my leave and your trip back home to Darrowby happen to coincide?” Tristan asked skeptically. "Probably not. Maybe when the war is over..."

"Tris," Jenny impatiently cut him off, not wanting to face the harsh reality of their relationship. "I've got to go."

"I know," Tristan said softly. "Good luck and... if you ever want to call... you know the number."

"Will you write to me?" Jenny asked.

"I don't know your address," Tristan reminded her with a chuckle.

"Oh, right," Jenny said with a shake of her head, forgetting that she too really didn't know where she was going to live in Leeds, only that she would live there, somewhere in the big city. "I'll write you first."

"Yeah. Well," Tristan gave her a smile that expressed the bittersweet feeling that started in his heart and drove away anything logical to say next.

"Well... goodbye," Jenny said, awkwardly shifting the valise from one hand to the one already holding onto Scruff's lead, and then reaching out her empty hand for him to shake.

Tristan took her hand in his and gripped onto her tightly, wishing that things might have ended differently, despite knowing that she had to do this for herself, not for anyone else. Especially not for him, who would have wanted her safe at Heston Grange, or Skeldale, or truly anywhere in Darrowby. Safe (relatively speaking, of course) from the war and the effects that came along with it. But she made up her mind and she had to follow through on her promises to herself. He, more than anyone else, understood this the most. He left home too. Regretted it, yes, but he lived up to his promise of 'doing the right thing'. Was it really? He wasn't quite sure, but he made a promise and couldn't turn back. Why should Jenny's promise to herself be any different?

He didn't embrace her or kiss her goodbye, not even chastely on the cheek, as so many did when their loved ones went off. He didn't want to stop her or cause any hinderance or last minute hesitation to her decision. He had tried his best to keep her at home, to change her mind, and yet he had failed. Nothing more could be said or done except for, "Goodbye Jenny," which he said softly, slowly letting go of her hand, her touch lingering on his.

Jenny decidedly turned away from him, determined to leave without getting choked up at their farewell — a much more permanent one than their usual goodbyes. Scruff obediently trotted at her side, glancing back occasionally to see if their friend Tristan would join them. She stepped up to the ticket office and looked at the ticket agent, an older man who had his spectacles perched on the edge of his nose.

"Where to miss?" he asked.

"Leeds, one way ticket please," Jenny said flatly, reaching into the pocket of her trousers to pull out what little money she remembered to bring with her. "Is the train on time?" she asked, simply for the sake of making conversation as she counted how much she'd have left after her train fare.

The sound of a child crying nearby distracted her from her counting, causing her to have to start over and recount. Her heart was not in it. She watched as the young father calmed down the little girl, who was in a tizzy over something. Just the sight of a family coming together, people who were complete strangers to her, a father and daughter, ages younger than her father and herself, brought an ache to her heart.

She missed her dad already and wished with her whole heart that the argument had never occurred. She wished that Louisa had never stepped foot in their house and on their farm. She wished her father had never met Louisa. But he had. And he was quite taken with her. Perhaps he was even in love with her. Was his love for Louisa stronger than that of his own daughter? Helen's words rung in her mind. 'Jenny, he loves you! ... I don’t know this… woman… but I do know Dad. I trust him.' Deep down, though mostly left unexpressed, her father did love her. They had been inseparable for years. And she loved him, looked up to him, would do anything in the world for him. Except let him fall in love with someone other than her mother.

'Maybe it’s more the idea of her that you’re against.’ Tristan was right. There was nothing wrong with Louisa herself. She seemed to be a nice person. Not a farmer, but there wasn't anything vile about her. Jenny never wanted to hurt Louisa, not truly. She just wanted to protect what was rightly hers. But was she wrong in keeping her father to herself? Was she wrong to forbid him to fall in love again?

'If you care for someone — truly care — sometimes the kindest thing you can do for that person is to let them go. Set them free to live their own life and make their own decisions.' She knew she had to let him go. To be free to live and love. To let his heart heal, not to replace her mother, but to find a spot in his heart to love again, a different type of love than what he showed to his daughters, a love found in a different place in his heart.

“Miss?”

The ticket agent was just staring at Jenny, wondering if she was even paying attention to anything he said. Meanwhile, the line was getting longer behind Jenny but she hadn’t even noticed, oblivious to her surroundings as she realized that she had a decision to make — and quickly.

“Oh, sorry,” Jenny said, stepping to the side.

“The money please,” the agent repeated.

“I… I won’t be needing the ticket after all,” Jenny decided, the words feeling very definite but very right, and she folded up the money and stuffed it back into her pocket. “Thanks anyway.”

She pushed past the line that formed behind her, hearing some men mutter something about ‘women not being able to make up their minds’ and another lady huff about ‘that daft girl not caring about others waiting.’ But their voices faded into the background as Jenny ran to the car park, searching for the Rover, hoping and praying that she wasn’t too late. That by some chance, Tristan might still be there. That if the car had to break down, perhaps it could’ve done it right then and there, so she wouldn’t be left stranded at the train station.

Her breath caught in her chest as she didn’t see the familiar green Rover sitting in the car park. Of course it was reasonable that he left to go home; she told him in so many words that she didn’t need him there, didn’t want him to see her off. “Tris,” she softly called out under her breath. Scruff whined as he pulled on his lead, completely confused as to whether they were coming or going or why they were even there in the first place.

“Jenny?”

She turned at the sound of her name, catching sight of Tristan waiting in the shadows of the station. He crossed over to her in long strides, but only needed to meet her halfway as she ran toward him, dropping her valise at her feet and pulling him into a hug, burying her face in his chest.

“Tris,” she whispered gratefully. “You didn’t leave.”

He held her close, his chin resting lightly on the top of her head. “I was going to wait until the train left. See you off from a distance so you wouldn’t know.”

“Even after I told you not to?” Jenny asked, her voice muffled against his chest.

“I’ve always been a rebel,” he chuckled. His eyes darted up to the clock and as he read the time he realized she had to make her final decision quickly. Soon there would be no changing her mind. “I think you’re going to miss your train, unless…”

“I’ve got to go home,” Jenny said softly, pulling back slightly to look up at him. “What you said, about people who you love and letting them free to make their own decisions. He’s me dad. I love him, even if he does love a woman who’s hopeless at being a farmer.”

Tristan brushed the hair out of her face and tucked it back behind her ear as he gazed into her eyes. “And what you said about being thrown out of the house?”

“I did it to meself. I might have made that part up or made it worse in me mind,” Jenny admitted. “Dad needs me. Now more than ever. If he thinks he can fall in love with someone he hardly knows, someone’s gotta be there for him to keep an eye on him. Keep things running. Can’t let things go to pot with no one there.”

“That’s my brave little soldier,” Tristan said with an affectionate smile. “And… Louisa?”

Jenny’s expression darkened, but only for a moment. “She’ll learn. It’ll either make her or break her. But I’ve got to be there. For Dad and the farm.”

“You’re sure?” Tristan said, looking back as he heard the train start to depart the station.

Jenny nodded. “I’m sure.”

“Well come on then, what are you waiting for?” Tristan grinned, leaning down to pick up her valise. “You’ve got a farm and a lovesick father to get back to!”

They walked back to the Rover, which Tristan had parked around the corner, and he put her case in the back. “I was worried about you.”

“You were? Why didn’t you tell me, try to stop me-“

“About you in Leeds? No, not that!” Tristan scoffed, doing his best to pretend that he really wasn’t worried about her idea to move to Leeds. She had made the decision to come home on her own without any influence from him — or at least he liked to think that. “You barely packed anything. Any girl running away from home should pack more than two dresses and a few pairs of—“

“Right!” Jenny cut him off, not needing to be embarrassed any further. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” She stepped in front of the door on the drivers side, blocking Tristan from getting in.

“Next time?” he questioned her.

“You never know,” Jenny said, putting a hand on the door handle. “But… I would promise not to run away if you let me drive again.” She gave Tristan one of her most charming smiles, eliciting a lopsided grin from him and keys dropped into her open outstretched hand.

“Fair enough,” Tristan gave in, walking around to the other side of the car and letting Scruff in first. “Just means I get more dog cuddles while you have to drive. And no driving in Darrowby. We don’t need Siegfried on our case. ‘Tristan, what the bloody hell were you doing with my car? Using it for frivolous purposes, speeding through the Dales, letting a girl drive it who hardly knows what she’s doing! That’s a delicate piece of machinery!’” He playfully looked over at Jenny who couldn’t help but smile knowingly at his best Siegfried imitation.

“Well he’ll never know, will he?” Jenny said with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she started up the car and peeled out of the car park, causing Tristan to tightly grip onto the car door as they made their way home, together.

Chapter Text

Jenny drove along the winding country roads until the first few familiar houses of Darrowby came back into view, at which point she pulled over and she and Tristan did their driver swap. No one who happened to see them in town would then be able to guess that Jenny had driven the Rover most of the way home and word wouldn’t get back to Siegfried.

“Do you think your dad knows where you’ve gone or when you left?” Tristan asked suddenly, starting up a conversation with Jenny that continued on from his silent thoughts.

“I weren’t there to make him breakfast. First time in four years I haven’t,” Jenny stated.

“I suppose he managed without you.”

Jenny looked at him skeptically, knowing better. “Where do you think our Helen got her cooking skills from? It weren’t our mum.”

Tristan paused before responding, a nod was given, and then, “Point taken.” He continued to drive through Darrowby, round the village green, when Jenny leaned over and grabbed his arm. “Wait!” she exclaimed, causing him to press hard on the brakes, jolting them to a sudden stop.

“What?” he asked, looking around for something in the road that he might not have seen.

“I have an apology to make,” Jenny said solemnly.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t mind taking you to the station and back. Or even your driving — though we might have lost a little rubber from the tyres and we could’ve died,” Tristan said in mock seriousness as he gave her a shrug.

“I don’t mean you,” she said with a shake of her head. “I meant Louisa.” Jenny threw a glance over her shoulder at the inn that they had already passed, presumably the place where Miss Elliott was staying. “I’ve got to say summat to her. Can’t just go back to me dad and ask for his forgiveness knowing I’ve offended his friend and didn’t even try to say I’m sorry to her.”

“Are you sure?” Tristan asked, knowing it was the right thing for her to do, but still feeling a bit wary of the idea of Jenny coming face to face with the very woman who caused her to lose her temper and sense of reason. “You could wait-“

“No,” Jenny said firmly. “It’s now or never. Before I lose me nerve.”

Tristan nodded and backed up the car until it came to a stop in the middle of the road; thankfully no one was driving up behind them. Shifting it into first gear, he pulled up to the front of the inn and parked the Rover there. “Do you want me to come or stay with Scruff?”

“You can keep Scruff company,” Jenny said, getting out of the Rover while simultaneously trying to compose her thoughts and apology. She hadn’t planned anything as her decision was rather a spur of the moment one, but it seemed the proper and polite approach to mending a relationship. “I’ll be back soon enough.”

“And if you’re not back in ten minutes, shall I send out a search party to come looking for you?” Tristan teased her.

“Don’t be daft. I can hardly think of more than a few words to say to her so it shouldn’t even be that long. And I promise I’ll be good. No arguments,” Jenny assured him.

“I’ll be here, waiting,” Tristan said, leaning back in the seat and getting comfortable. Scruff moved closer to him and rested his head on Tristan’s arm as he watched his girl go into the inn. “I’ll always wait,” he whispered to the dog.

Jenny marched into the inn, her confident air hiding any traces of the nervous anticipation she felt inside. She went up to the clerk who worked there for as long as she could remember, a Mr. Morrison who was then currently busy filing keys away. Jenny quietly cleared her throat to get his attention without having to ring the bell and make a noisy announcement of her presence. “I’m here to see Miss Elliott. What’s her room number?”

“Miss… oh, Mrs. Elliott is in room 203,” Mr. Morrison responded. “Didn’t know you knew her Jenny.”

Jenny’s eyes flashed with understanding, hoping that Mrs. Elliott was not currently married. If she was, it would only add to her already troublesome appearance at Heston Grange. Unless this Mrs. Elliott was a completely different woman from their Miss Elliott, Jenny could hope that there was some mistake of identity, though she knew the chance of there being two different ladies with the last name of Elliott visiting Darrowby at the same time and staying in the same inn was quite slim. Mrs. Elliott and Miss Elliott were probably one and the same. From the tone of the clerk’s voice, it appeared he didn’t associate Miss, or Mrs, Elliott with Richard Alderson. That in itself was a small mercy. “I have lots of friends,” she responded to him in a tone lighter than usual. “Shouldn’t surprise you.”

She turned and went to the staircase that led her up to the second floor, finding the second door on the right. 203. She raised her hand to knock but quickly pulled it back against her side, a sudden moment of doubt hitting her. Would it be the right thing to do or would it only make matters worse seeing her again? Her sense of propriety, previously buried deep under jealously and irritation, finally moved her to knock, her hand trembling as she did so.

“Come in!”

Jenny looked around down the hall. Was Louisa expecting someone else? She didn’t want to be an unwelcome surprise. She wasn’t invited and it would be much the same as when Louisa turned up at Heston, only the circumstances flipped. This time Jenny was the interloper. She took a deep breath as she gathered her courage and opened up the door.

Louisa was busy packing up the last of her belongings that she brought with her on her short trip. As she turned toward the opening door, the surprised look on her face upon seeing Jenny left little to the younger woman’s imagination at the astonishment Louisa was feeling. “Oh, I thought you were the boy coming to collect my things.”

Jenny gave her a half smile, trying to think of what to say next. She might not have been let in so easily had she not been mistaken for someone else, adding to the already awkward situation. “You leaving so soon?” she asked, her gaze moving across the room to the already packed trunk and the mostly full valise on the bed.

“I fear I’ve overstayed my welcome,” Louisa explained briskly, turning back to continue folding her clothes and gently laying them down in the traveling case. “It’s time for me to go home.”

Jenny dropped her gaze to her feet. “Do you have family back home waiting for you?” she asked, still very curious about the Mrs in front of Louisa’s surname, but then silently scolding herself for not getting on with the apology so she could leave sooner and be done with the uncomfortable encounter.

“It’s only me,” Louisa replied. “And Baxter, but my neighbors look in on him in my absence. I doubt he misses me too much.”

“Oh. Baxter’s your son… or… husband?” Jenny continued questioning her, though this time her tone was softer and not as intense of an interrogation as she gave the poor woman back at Heston Grange.

Louisa looked over at Jenny with a smile on her face. “Baxter’s my dog,” she chuckled, turning back to her packing, “though sometimes I think I attribute more human-like qualities to him than he truly has. I haven’t had him long, but he’s an old chap. Farmer up the road from me was going to get rid of him. Permanently. Just because he couldn’t work anymore because he’s losing his hearing. I couldn’t let that happen, so now he’s living out his golden years with me.”

She paused for a moment, looking thoughtfully over at Jenny. “You were right. I’m no farmer. I’ve got too soft a heart to ever be one.”

Jenny swallowed down the lump in her throat. “We’re a tough bunch, us Dales farmers. The whole lot of us. But I think if you look closely, deep down our hearts are soft too. We’ve just hardened them to live. We say things that make it seem like we don’t care, but it’s just us accepting the way of the world. We wouldn’t be able to survive otherwise.” She stepped closer to Louisa, unsure if she should help her pack or if the polite thing to do would be to sit down like ladies do when they have a friendly chat. So she remained standing.

“Me dog Scruff, he’s like your Baxter. Not that he’s losing his hearing or is old or anything like that, but when he were a pup, if it were up to the way things were always done round these parts, he wouldn’t be alive today,” Jenny explained. “He would’ve had to be put down cause he were always barking and scaring other farmer’s flocks, causing ewes to miscarry. Harming another farmer’s livestock is a serious offense. But James — he’s a vet and me brother-in-law — he took a chance on Scruff. Saw the potential in him, that he were just a pup who didn’t know any better. He trained him, taught him how to behave. He weren’t born a farm dog, but now Scruff’s the best dog around sheep you ever could meet. Just needed someone to believe in him.”

“I guess what I mean by that…” Jenny continued, hesitating slightly in pursuit of the right words to say, “what I mean is that we have a way of doing things round here. And us farmers can be set in our ways because it’s what we’ve always done. It’s true, I won’t deny it. I’m one of them. But sometimes… given enough time, we come round to new ideas. And new ideas, they’re not all bad. Just takes some getting used to. Takes time, and a clear head. Neither of which I had yesterday.”

“Jenny,” Louisa interrupted her. “It’s alright, really.”

Jenny shook her head in denial. “No. It weren’t alright. You were a guest in me home and I treated you badly and I’m sorry for it. I’m sorry for what I said, what I did, how I made you feel bad just because you aren’t one of us. It’s not your fault you weren’t born a farmer. Not everyone can be so lucky. But I made it seem like it were your fault. I understand if you can’t forgive me — I were terribly wicked and selfish, wanting to keep me farm and… and me dad all to meself. But you were his guest and I’m afraid I ruined both your day and his, and if there’s anyway I could make it up to you—“

“Dear girl,” Louisa said, stepping closer to Jenny and reaching out to grasp onto her hands. “Of course I forgive you. I came into your life unexpected and a girl like you, full of life and the fire of youth, can’t be expected to take changes lying down. You said that you’d do something to make up for yesterday?”

Jenny’s eyes got wide as she realized that Louisa was going to ask something of her that she only hoped she could fulfill now that she had already impulsively blurted out before that she would do anything for her. “What is it?”

“I want you to promise me something. You’re headstrong Jenny. And someday that might get you into trouble. Next time you’re faced with a situation that gets you all riled up, I want you to remember how you feel now. That’s the feeling of your consequences, that heavy sorry feeling in your heart, and though most of the time things will turn out alright, you would never want to ruin a relationship over words you can’t take back. Just.. promise that you’ll take a deep breath and think before you speak?”

Jenny nodded. “I promise,” she pledged softly, shamefully dropping her gaze to the floor.

Louisa put a finger under Jenny’s chin and tilted her head up so they could look each other in the eye. “Now, now. None of this demureness. That’s not you. It doesn’t suit you. Though you may be headstrong, I happen to like girls with spirit. Don’t lose yourself to old conventions and propriety. The world is changing, and it will one day give girls like you more independence. Help it change by staying true to yourself. Take care to be yourself but be sensible. That’s all I’m saying.”

“So… you’re not angry at me?” Jenny hesitantly asked.

“Angry? Why, no! I’m the intruder on your peaceful family farm. You had a right to be protective of what you love,” Louisa responded, turning back to the last few pieces of clothing that needed to be packed. “And besides, I much rather us part as friends than enemies.”

Jenny moved over to the bed and took the blouse that Louisa handed to her to fold up and pack away. “So you’re still leaving?”

“There’s no reason for me to stay,” Louisa said simply.

Jenny looked down at the clothing in her hands and as she absentmindedly folded it, she came to the conclusion that letting Louisa leave would only make matters worse. How could she prove to her father that she and Louisa had made peace if Louisa left before her trip was officially over? How could she even face her father and beg for his forgiveness if she had driven away the only woman he had ever shown romantic interest to since his late wife? She placed the blouse down on the bed, outside of the traveling case. “Have you been to the Drovers?” she suddenly asked.

“No, I haven’t. Is it good?”

“Good?” Jenny laughed. “You can’t come to Darrowby and not go there. It’s the place where all the townsfolk and farmers go for a pint, a meal, and a good time.”

“Maybe some other time, when I’m passing through town,” Louisa said, picking up the blouse that Jenny stubbornly refused to pack away and putting it inside the case.

“Well, what about Janet’s Foss? Have you seen that yet?” Jenny asked.

Louisa stopped her packing again. Shaking her head, she said, “I’ve never heard of it before.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing,” Jenny said. “Legend has it that Janet, queen of the fairies, lives in a cave behind the waterfall. Me, I don’t believe all that, but it’s a pretty spot and a good place for a swim in the summer. Too cold now, but you could go see it and come back another time when it warms up to go swimming. Next month the bluebells will be blooming up there. At least go see it so you know where it is.”

“A local tour guide?” Louisa smiled. “That’s sweet of you Jenny, but I should go home. Speaking earlier of being impulsive, I suppose I am once in a while too. This whole trip was quite the hasty decision and I didn’t think it through. Not completely.”

“You have spirit too, Mrs. Elliott,” Jenny said firmly. “Why not live a little while you’re here? Go explore, see what it’s like in Darrowby.”

“With the condition that I don’t end up at Heston Grange?” Louisa asked, raising an eyebrow.

“With the condition that you come back to Heston, not as me dad’s guest, but as my guest. And… maybe you could show me how to make that cake you were talking about,” Jenny suggested.

“Cake? With no special occasion?”

“There is one,” Jenny said confidently. “A new beginning to a friendship. Our friendship. Because you do want to be friends now?”

Louisa came and swept Jenny into a hug, catching the younger woman off guard before she relaxed into her touch. “Yes, Jenny. We’re friends, and that means you better start calling me Lou. No more of this ‘Mrs. Elliott.’ That’s too formal for you and me.”

Jenny pulled back from her hug, a smile spread across her face and feeling much better knowing that she was able to successfully take the first step to patching things up between them.

“Your father, does he know you’re here?” Louisa asked, taking a look out the window that faced out to the village green. She peered down at the green Rover parked in front of the bed and breakfast and saw a man with a familiar Spaniel dog waiting.

“No,” Jenny admitted. “I snuck away before he got up. Had to think for a while before coming to see you. But I should be getting back to him. Animals don’t wait for social calls and we’re short-handed as it is on the farm.”

“Did you walk all the way here?” Louisa questioned her, though she had a feeling that she was already looking at the answer.

“Tristan drove me,” Jenny said quickly, the words tumbling out naturally before she realized that those three words could call for a rather lengthy explanation.

“And this,” Louisa said, pulling back the sheer curtain so Jenny too could look down at the Rover, “I assume is Tristan?”

“Aye,” Jenny confirmed.

“Handsome chap,” Louisa commented, noticing the jealous flash in Jenny’s eyes that she soon masked. “Don’t worry, he looks too young for me.”

“We’re only friends, me and Tris,” Jenny blurted out, instantly chiding herself for saying that. But what else was she to say? He wasn’t her boyfriend, not really. Was there a term for someone who was closer than a friend while not being romantically involved? She couldn’t think of it, so the broad term ‘friend’ would have to do. The last thing Jenny wanted was her dad finding out about her and Tristan from Louisa. Another explained excuse was in order to mask their true feelings for each other. “Besides, I heard he proposed to a girl recently so he’s already interested in someone,” she said, secretly referring, of course, to herself, so at least she wouldn’t have a guilty conscience for lying.

“And did she accept?”

“No, daft girl,” Jenny muttered. “She should’ve taken him when she had the chance. He’s not one for settling down. I were surprised when I heard him propose — heard of him proposing — but she were too busy with other things to worry about marriage at the moment.”

“That’s a shame,” Louisa said wistfully. “True love doesn’t come very often, which is why when it does, one should hold on tightly.”

Jenny’s knuckles whitened as she gripped onto the windowsill. “About Dad…” she started to say, hoping that she wouldn’t regret what came out of her mouth next. “If you want to see him again, and I mean because you like him… as more than just a friend.” She took a deep breath. “I hope you do. Because you’re the first woman he’s ever paid attention to since… since Mum.”

“I’m not a farmer,” Louisa quietly reminded her.

“We’ve all got to start somewhere. What do you think the land girls had to do when they arrived from the cities?” Jenny said with a determined tone, confidence overriding any of her previous hesitations. “I can teach you. Best education in farming you ever could receive. I’ve been doing it me whole life. And if nowt happens between you and Dad, well, then I’ve got a new friend and maybe learned how to bake and you’ll learn how to milk a cow, or collect eggs, or sort stones for a wall. That’s the beginning. You can work your way up from there.”

“I think I have my work cut out for me,” Louisa laughed at Jenny’s enthusiasm.

“Then you better get started,” Jenny said. “Give me one day with me dad, just the two of us. But tomorrow, come on by, and we can start in the kitchen. You teach me what you know first. Deal?” she asked, reaching out her hand in a contractual agreement manner.

“Deal,” Louisa agreed, shaking Jenny’s hand firmly.

For the first time since the two had met, both felt a sense of relief that maybe things would turn out alright after all.

Chapter Text

Jenny had returned from the bed and breakfast to the Rover, where Tristan was waiting patiently with Scruff, enjoying the sunshine that was finally warming up the air on that March day. He watched as she came out of the inn, carefully observing her facial expression to see how the encounter went. He was hesitant about dropping her off at first, concerned that if she got into a row with Miss Elliott, she’d want to fall back to her original plans of leaving for Leeds. However, the smile on Jenny’s face told him that it was happily not the case and that he surely would soon take her home to Heston Grange where she’d have the much-needed conversation with her dad.

But first, there was another stop to make. “Get in, we’ve got people to see,” Tristan playfully called out, leaning over in his seat to open up the passenger door for her. Scruff’s tail thumped happily against the back of the seat, thrilled to see his girl again.

Jenny slid in and gave her dog a quick snuggle before beaming up at Tristan. “Everything’s alright now. With Lou.”

Tristan raised his brows in an exaggerated expression. “Oh, so it’s Lou now, is it?” he said with a smirk, finding great humor and irony in the fact that Jenny had changed her mind so quickly and drastically over the woman who to her at first was an evil, scheming woman and now was apparently someone Jenny could think of as a friend.

”Aye,” Jenny said, a slight flush creeping up onto her cheeks. “She weren’t as upset as she had the right to be. Now I just have me dad to talk to and hope he forgives me.”

“That’s not all,” Tristan reminded her, causing a puzzled look to cross her face.

“Who else did I offend?” Jenny asked worriedly.

“It’s not that you offended anyone, it’s that you caused a great deal of worry to those who love you,” Tristan pointed out as he started up the Rover and swung around the village green to pull into the driveway of Skeldale. “I think you owe an explanation to Helen and Mrs. H, though fear not brave solider. I’m sure it will be much easier than going to beg for forgiveness from Miss Elliott, as you’re bearing good news of your return home.”

They left Scruff in the car, knowing that this stop would be quicker than the first time Jenny had arrived at Skeldale earlier that morning in such an emotional state. Tristan swung open the back door to the kitchen and called out loudly enough for the whole house to hear, including clients waiting in the hall, “We’re home!”

“Home? You might be, but I don’t live here. Or have you forgotten?” Jenny said in a hushed voice, rolling her eyes at his exuberance.

“It’s the first place you came after running away from your home, so you might as well be home. Skeldale’s a second home for everyone who comes to know it well,” Tristan explained, just as Mrs. Hall quickly came into the kitchen.

“You’re back! Both of you!” she happily exclaimed, stepping over and giving them each a hug; Jenny first, then Tristan.

“I couldn’t go,” Jenny said softly. “Not after I thought about Dad and how much he’ll need me, especially if he’s decided to fall head over heels in love. Someone’s got to keep things running.”

Though Audrey was surprised at the sudden change of events and firm decision on Jenny’s part, she was not going to question why but instead wholeheartedly embrace the happy outcome. “It’s good to have you home,” she said, her warm smile lighting up her whole face. “Helen will be so happy to hear you’ve come back!”

“Where is she?” Tristan asked, just realizing then that Helen had not shown up in the kitchen after his rather loud declaration.

“She got Mr. Farnon to drive her up to Heston,” Audrey explained, looking at Tristan first before turning to Jenny. “She thought it right to tell your father where you went to before he found out from someone else.”

Jenny nodded, dropping her gaze down before gaining a sense of confidence and control to look Audrey in the eye. “Aye, as she should. She always looks out for the both of us, Dad and me.”

“She’ll never stop,” Audrey told her, placing her hand gently on Jenny’s arm.

“Good, cause we need it,” Jenny said bluntly. “And thank you, for trying to stop me before. I’m going to try and be more sensible, like you, and not run away when I’ve got people here who need me.”

Audrey paused, looking thoughtful as she recalled a time when she almost left her home at Skeldale before deciding to stay. “I think we’ve all had moments like you Jenny. I know I have, making rash decisions because your heart tells you one thing and your mind tells you another. But as long as we come to the right decision and end up where we belong — where we’re needed and loved most — we’ve done alright. For ourselves and for others.”

“I do belong here. In Darrowby,” Jenny said, glancing around the Skeldale kitchen and getting a warm feeling inside. Tristan was right: Skeldale did feel like her home away from home, mostly because it was filled with the people whom she loved the most. “If me dad won’t let me back home, can I come back here?” she asked suddenly, making the request impulsively without completely thinking it through, such as the lack of bedrooms to house another person in their already full home.

Audrey smiled at her. “There’ll always be a place for you,” she assured Jenny, though she was all too aware of their lodging accommodations. But she knew Richard Alderson well. He wouldn’t refuse his daughter if she came to him to make amends. Much like Siegfried, whom she knew and could read better than anyone else, she also knew that with Richard too there might be huffing and a great amount of hurtful words said in anger, but after the storm settled, a calm would set in and forgiveness would be granted after a sense of shame for his words and actions. “You better go,” she said. “Your father must be worried sick about you.”

“He shouldn’t be — I can take care of meself,” Jenny said determinedly. Her words caused Tristan to roll his eyes behind her back, a gesture only Audrey saw. Tristan realized that Jenny had an idea of what taking care of herself meant, but she was still very much unprepared for life in the real world. Just the amount of belongings she packed was too meager to live on. On a farm perhaps it would suffice, but not on a spur of the moment trip to move to and live in the city. Not that he’d ever tell her that; he valued his life too much to risk it.

“Let’s just go,” Tristan chuckled, following her out of the kitchen and back outside to the Rover. “I won’t be long,” he said over his shoulder to Mrs. H.

“No stopping at the Drovers on the way home!” she called out. “I’ve got dinner set and I don’t want a spoiled appetite!”

“You know me Mrs. H!” Tristan said, stopping to turn and look back at her. “Always hungry for one of your meals!”

“Nervous?” Tristan asked Jenny as they pulled up the familiar drive to Heston Grange. The gravel crunching under the tyres was the only sound audible for a while as Jenny silently looked around for either her father or Helen, neither of whom were at the front of the house or in the visible surroundings.

“No,” she finally said, grabbing hold of Scruff’s lead as she prepared to get out of the car. Tristan raised an eyebrow as he looked at her skeptically. “Well, yeah. A little maybe,” she admitted, opening the car door and stepping out. “But it is good to be home.”

“You weren’t even gone a whole day,” Tristan laughed.

“Long enough, and what is it they say? It’s the thought that counts?” Jenny said as she looked around at the fields and hills. “Just the thought of leaving were eating at me insides.”

“There is no place like home,” Tristan agreed, thinking of his own imminent departure to Doncaster the next day.

“I guess I’ll go in,” Jenny eventually told him, grabbing her valise from the back seat and feeling very grateful that it didn’t open up and spill her belongings out on the ground again.

“Wait!” Tristan called out softly from his spot in the Rover, turning off the engine and getting out of the car. “Jenny, if I don’t see you again-“

Jenny worriedly looked back. “What do you mean?”

“You know I’m leaving tomorrow. For three months,” Tristan stated, telling her what she was already well-aware of.

“Aye,” Jenny replied quietly.

He stepped forward, as if to gap the distance between them before making a conscious effort to stop himself. “I probably won’t see you before I leave. So take care of yourself and promise you’ll write.”

“I will. Promise,” she said, giving a wistful smile as she thought of the months ahead without Tristan in her life.

“Now go find your dad,” Tristan said, clearing his throat to hide any emotion he felt coming across in his voice. “He’s probably missing you terribly.”

Jenny gave him a skeptical look. “I hope so.”

“I know so,” Tristan assured her. “If you were my daughter, I’d be worried about you, not knowing where you went, what you were doing. Go on then. What are you waiting for?”

Jenny hesitated for a second, wondering if it would be proper to hug him goodbye, but thought better of it and took off at a brisk clip toward the house, Scruff trotting at her heels, leaving Tristan standing alone alongside the Rover. She approached the front door to the house, the familiar feel of the door handle fitting and feeling right in the palm of her hand as she opened the door to the sight of the inside of her home. She had only left it early that morning but it felt like an eternity had passed. It was as if she had left a piece of her soul behind there that she had to go back for. She moved into the dimly lit hallway to go through to the kitchen, setting down her traveling case beneath the coatrack in the hall.

The house was quiet. Neither her dad nor Helen were apparently inside, but she wouldn’t complain. It was nice to be home, alone for a moment with only her thoughts. She breathed in deep, both in a sigh of relief and to smell the familiar scent of home: the lingering scent of woodsmoke from the fireplace, a faint but sweet smell of hay, and… burned toast? That was something she hadn’t smelled since Helen lived with them. Though Jenny was no cook, she had at least learned how to not burn toast. She stepped into the kitchen and saw the remains of her father’s breakfast, mostly gone except for some charred pieces of toast that were too far gone to be edible and eggs that seemed more coagulated than scrambled. Or perhaps the eggs were supposed to be fried, but went wrong somewhere along the way. In either case, with a determined look that followed her slight grimace, she cleared off the kitchen table, her fingers brushing over the burned spot on the wood tabletop, and got to work at cleaning the dishes.

Tristan didn’t leave Heston Grange right away. For starters, there was always the possibility, however improbable, that Jenny would not be allowed to stay, and the last thing he wanted was for her to be stranded, back to her quandary that she started with that very morning. He also enjoyed the peaceful setting of the farm, the smell of the clover in the fields and the damp earth. It could be that Jenny’s love of the land rubbed off on him, or maybe it was the nostalgia of Darrowby and the farms that surrounded the village, a throwback to a simpler time before the war and all that it took with it. Or it could simply be that he was feeling homesick for the Dales before he had even left.

He took off in a walk around the farm, glad to be alone for a bit before returning home to Skeldale. He gazed at the far off hills that framed the landscape, seeing it for the first time through Jenny’s eyes. It was no wonder she was glad to be home; in fact, it was very surprising that she even dared to leave at all.

It would be hard to take her away from her beloved farm that she called home all her life. Tristan saw firsthand how she tried to break free but how her heart called her back to Heston Grange. A flicker of doubt suddenly passed through him — would she ever be ready to leave to start her own life and home?

Maybe one day, some lucky chap might be able to charm her enough to convince her to leave and start a new life with him, set up their own farm or home in the village. A place where he could come home to each night and she’d be there, her admiration and affection for him visible as she greeted him. There would be a hot meal on the table. Not a meal like Mrs. Hall could make, though he wouldn’t mind. He’d tease her about it of course, but she’d only laugh about it herself as she knew the way that she cooked. He’d tell her that he could taste an improvement each day. She’d say he was lying but accept the compliment anyway. Their children would then rush into the room. A girl and a boy, a perfect mixture of their parents, but both with Jenny’s determined Dales farmer temperament, God help them both.

And when it would get late, the children asleep and tucked in their beds, they would sit by the fireplace in the sitting room and talk about their work of the day. Jenny, how she went to help out her father at Heston and how their children played together with their cousins up at their grandad’s farm. She’d talk about her horse and how the flocks of sheep were getting on. He’d then relate how he got called out that day to take a look at a parrot who only needed a routine exam, but escaped his grip and flew away through town (one of his worst fears), only to be retrieved later on by the green grocer who lured the parrot in with some fruit as bribery. They’d laugh and move closer together, then a silence would fall over the room as they gazed into each other’s eyes. The night was young and they’d make the most of it.

Suddenly the image was very clear to him. Jenny was in all of his dreams for his life postwar and as much as he tried, he couldn’t get rid of the thought.

Leaning back against a stone wall, Tristan looked out at the distant landscape, trying to bring reason back into his nonsensical thoughts. It wasn’t practical to be thinking of love at a time like this. The war was still on, his very life was unstable. It wouldn’t be fair to involve any girl in a serious romantic relationship. He had gone over this same train of thought countless times before, even before he had any feeling of love towards Jenny. Though he couldn’t stop his life on account of the war, he had to think of those he’d leave behind if anything unfortunate would happen to him. He could be redeployed at any time, sent far away. He could be injured, temporarily or permanently. Or worse. Love was not something he could afford to gamble on, beyond a fun outing with little expectations or responsibilities. He knew the reasons why he shouldn’t have thought of Jenny in that way, dreaming about a future together that was perfectly charming but utterly fanciful and pointless. Oh, he knew the reasons very well, but he didn’t have to like them.

Soon Tristan realized that he wasn’t alone. Richard and Helen were walking toward him, probably surprised to see him on their farm, all by himself and with no visible reason for being there. He straightened up and stepped toward them, forgoing his daydreams and coming back to the present. “I brought Jenny home,” he said as he got close enough for them to hear.

Helen let out a gasp of both excitement and relief. “She’s home? Here?”

“She’s inside, and I think she’d like to talk with you,” Tristan said, turning to Richard. “You’ll find her sorry for what she did and I think she’s a bit worried you might not want her here anymore. I tried assuring her that wasn’t the case… is it?” he finished with a question that came across more as a statement.

“I’ll go see to her,” Richard said gruffly, taking off at a quick clip toward the farm house. Helen meanwhile, stayed behind with Tristan, knowing better than to interfere with the conversation her sister and dad needed to have together. Besides, she had questions for Tristan that she had to ask privately, and there was no time like the present.

Chapter Text

“How’d you get her to change her mind?” Helen finally asked Tristan after she had waited for her dad to walk far enough away that he’d be out of earshot.

“I didn’t do anything,” Tristan admitted. “She made up her own mind. All I did was not stop her from leaving. Instead of fighting to get her way against the wishes of everyone trying to keep her here, she was able to think about what she was doing and see how impossible it all was. And I didn’t tell her that I thought it was impossible.”

“She’s always had a mind of her own, that one. Ever since she were a wee lass!” Helen chuckled as she thought back to fifteen years earlier, to a time when Jenny was just a little girl with the same determined spirit she still had. “When she said she were leaving for Leeds, to live there, it hit me. Jenny could move out and no one else would think much of it. She’s of that age when girls leave home, make their own way in life. I know she’s growing up — grown up, almost — but there’s times I still can’t picture me little sister a woman. I know she is, she’d proved herself capable, but when I look at her I still see that plucky little girl who thought she could manage the farm all by herself at only twelve years old. I see her and think that it can’t be. That much time couldn’t have gone by that quickly, but it has.”

Silence stretched between them for a moment as Helen recalled some of her own first encounters with Tristan, years ago that had flown by without her even realizing how fast they passed. “Do you remember her, when she were little?”

Tristan gazed off into the distance. “I remember clearly the day I first met her. It was the day I first met you too. I had just gotten to Skeldale and your mum brought in a barn cat with an ear infection. Even at thirteen I thought you were pretty then. You still are.”

“Flatterer,” Helen muttered, rolling her eyes good-naturedly.

“I didn’t pay Jenny much attention. Boys of that age don’t think much of toddlers,” Tristan said with a smirk. “I do remember her almost knocking something off the examination table before your mum swooped in and stopped her.”

“Jenny were a handful,” Helen laughed. “Still is I guess.”

“Don’t know how your mum kept up with her.”

“She always used to say that if you love someone, anything you do for them doesn’t feel like work,” Helen said.

“I know what she meant,” Tristan said, almost more to himself than to Helen, but his words were audible, though quiet.

“Do you?” Helen asked, giving him a constant gaze as she studied his reaction. “Because driving someone to the train station and back on your own time and ration coupons and also escorting that same girl who you’re not in love with to a ball just because she doesn’t have anyone else to go with could be considered work or a burden.”

“It’s not — it didn’t feel like work,” Tristan said quickly, a flash of understanding crossing his face. Helen knew.

“I thought so,” Helen softly said, looking down at her feet for a while as the truth sunk in before she raised her head to look up at Tristan.

“How long?” Tristan asked. “How long did you know?”

“I don’t know exactly. I think today were the first time I put it together,” Helen said, the past discussions she had with Jenny flooding back to her. “I thought Jenny were in love with that solider. Private Caldwell. Then I thought she and Richard Carmody — I know,” she shot a glare at him after he got a funny expression on his face, “don’t laugh. I thought they had a bit of a fling going on over Christmas. But she always seemed to be putting him off. Like she already had someone else she were in love with. I saw the way she looked at you today. And not just today. Back when you took her to the Daffodil Ball. She looked at you like you hung the moon and offered it to her like some piece of jewelry. I thought maybe it were just a crush, but it’s been going on too long to be just that. Because you feel it too, don’t you?”

“I do, but it’s not what you might think-“

“Innt it?” Helen asked. “Tris, you don’t just let a girl go off on any whim because you think she’s nice. You’ve given her your time. Taken her out on a date, and were persistent about getting your way to take her! Now I think she’s fallen for you. Funny, I don’t mind the thought of her and you together. I never thought about it before, but strangely enough it doesn’t bother me. You’re like me brother anyway and I know you’re a good man. She could do much worse. Just… don’t break her heart.”

“Break her — no, I won’t. I wouldn’t,” Tristan said in a voice barely above a whisper, then adding in a more confident and serious tone, “That’s the last thing I’d ever want to do.”

Helen warily looked at him. “Be careful then?”

“I will,” Tristan promised her.

“Our Jenny is loyal, to a fault. She’ll worship the ground you walk on if you let her,” she warned him.

Trietan nodded, understanding exactly what Helen meant. He wasn’t going tell her that he knew that Jenny had loved him going on two years and that she had patiently been waiting for him to fall in love with her. He knew her loyalty all too well, but that was a fact best kept as a secret. “If it’s something that she’ll grow out of, then so be it, but it won’t be up to me to stop her from caring about me. If she loves me, like you say she does, I’ll be there for her. I’ll wait. I’ve got time; plenty of time. I can’t promise her love and marriage — not now, not with the world the way it is — but I can promise her friendship and loyalty, same as she offers me.”

“She’d give you a lot more if you let her,” Helen said.

“I’d never take more than what’s proper,” Tristan assured her, his voice low and firm in his resolve.

“I’ll hold you to it then.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

Jenny was finishing washing the darkened pan when she heard the front door to the house open. She immediately stiffened, bracing herself for whatever was to come next. The sound of footsteps of farmer’s boots were too heavy for it to be Helen coming inside. Jenny didn’t turn to face him as he came closer. The sound of approaching footsteps stopped in the doorway and didn’t come any nearer. Her hands had a sleight tremble to them, and combined with the slippery water, the pan she was holding in her hands slid back into the sink with a loud clatter.

“Don’t go breaking everything,” Richard said from the doorway.

Jenny bit her lower lip as she slowly raised the pan from the soapy water, giving it a second rinse and placing it down on the dampened towel laid out across the kitchen counter. She didn’t make a move to dry it, instead turning to look her father in the eye, this time a confrontation in a much more humble manner to beg for his forgiveness. “I’ve come home Dad.”

“I er, I thought you left,” Richard said, taking a hesitant step closer to her. “Helen told me you were going to Leeds.”

“I did. I left,” Jenny confirmed. “But not all the way to Leeds. I were going to go but then at the station I realized I left summat behind.”

Richard’s heart sunk a little at her confession, realizing that perhaps her return was not as permanent as he had thought, or hoped, really. But he kept the mask of indifference on and pretended as best as he could that he didn’t care. He didn’t want her to see a softer form of him, his heart vulnerable and his happiness entirely dependent on whether she decided to stay or leave. He wouldn’t tie her down to a place she didn’t want to be, even though deep down he wanted to keep her with him forever. That wasn’t the way of the world, not the natural order of things. Even animals let their young leave when they got old enough. It wasn’t right to keep her locked up on a farm when there was so much world out there for her to experience. As much as his internal thoughts would have been helpful in letting Jenny knew what he truly felt, his external dialogue barely scratched the surface of his feelings. “What’d you leave?”

“Me heart,” Jenny said, her steady voice masking the quiver she felt inside. “I found it’s tied here. Not just to Heston but to the people. Mostly… you. I came back cause of you.”

Richard’s face remained stoic for a moment as her words sunk in. As he comprehended the meaning of what she said, his shoulders slumped from their rigid, uptight posture and the corners of his mouth turned ever slightly upward from the hardened line of his worried expression. “You’re… staying?” he finally choked out, the two words some of the hardest he ever found to say.

“If you’ll have me,” Jenny replied softly, stepping closer as she realized something was very different about her father, who was normally unfazed and untouched by emotion. This time he seemed choked up, like something deep inside was finally bubbling to the surface, something akin to happiness or relief.

“If I’ll-“ Richard said, but couldn’t get any further in his words, before a sound somewhere between a grateful laugh and a relieved sob broke up his speech. He put a hand up to his eyes, covering the moisture that blurred his vision, as he stumbled over to the chair next to the fireplace. It was as if the realization of her wanting to stay had completely released his tension from the past day’s events that was holding him upright. He slumped down in the chair and fought back the sobs that tried to escape.

“Dad-“ Jenny started to say, hurriedly going over to her father’s chair and dropping to her knees in front of him. She was worried. She hadn’t seen him like that before, so completely spent looking, like there wasn’t a fight left in him. “Are you alright?”

Richard mutely nodded before leaning forward and hiding his face behind his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. “What were you thinking?”

Jenny tentatively placed a hand on his wrist, but didn’t try to pull his hand away from his face. “About coming home or Lou-“

“About leaving,” Richard said gruffly with a sniff, blinking away any tears to regain some semblance of his normal composure.

Jenny closed her eyes for a second, taking a deep breath to gather her thoughts and say things in a sensible manner like how a daughter should respectfully treat and talk to her father. “I were in the wrong. Completely. I left because I thought you didn’t need me anymore. Because if you had… had her to love, you wouldn’t want me around. I thought you were trying to start fresh and forget about Mum, your family, our history.”

He looked up at her and opened his mouth as if to speak, but she shook her head to stop him, not yet done with her confession. “That were selfish of me. I were jealous. I wanted to keep you all to meself, not share you with anyone because I thought that if I did so we could keep the memory of Mum alive. That’s wrong. I know that now. Instead of caging you, I should set you free to love who you want. You have a big heart Dad, whether you admit it or not. And I know now that there’s room in your heart for all of us. Me, Helen, Louisa. Even the memory of Mum. Especially the memory of Mum. I didn’t know what else to do other than leave. It were a rash decision made because I were angry and I seem to always run away from problems if I can’t face them in the eye.”

“You were always like that, ever since you were a little one,” Richard said quietly, his eyes getting a far away look as memories long locked away came to the forefront of his mind. “Running away when you were in trouble or screaming your head off.”

She moved her hand to cover his much larger hand that was resting on his leg, intertwining her fingers in between his. “Guess I haven’t changed that much. I still have a lot of growing up to do then. You were right in saying I were wrong to treat Louisa like I did. I were so afraid you just wanted to replace Mum with Lou that I treated her badly.”

“I never wanted to replace your mother,” Richard said, looking Jenny straight in the eye. “Louisa were never meant to be that. We never talked about marriage.”

“I see that now,” Jenny told him, squeezing his hand. “And she doesn’t pretend to be Mum. She knows she’s not a farmer, not my ideal mother if you ever did get serious about her. I do see what you like about her. She’s kind and makes you feel good about yourself even when you don’t have a reason to. I know, because I talked to her today.”

“You saw her?” Richard asked, surprised at Jenny’s confession. “But she were leaving!”

“She were,” Jenny agreed. “But not anymore. She’s staying for the rest of her trip, as planned. Tomorrow she’ll come up here, but on my invitation. That is, if you let me stay. I understand if you don’t want me to, and I’ll go. Not Leeds, it’s too far from here. But maybe Darrowby-“

Jenny kept talking, but if she had raised her gaze from her hand on her father’s hand, she would have seen his eyes soften and become misty. “Jenny,” he finally cut in, causing her to look up. “Stay,” he whispered. “Please stay.”

“You want me? Here? With you? After everything — are you sure?” Jenny asked breathlessly.

Richard moved one hand up to cup Jenny’s cheek. “Where else would your home be, lass?”

Now it was Jenny’s turn to cry, but unlike her father, she didn’t hold back out of embarrassment or trying to keep control of her emotions. Instead she let the tears run down her face and leave wet tracks in their paths. She lowered her head and rested it on her father’s knees, closing her eyes as she felt very thankful and a great amount of relief for his forgiveness.

Richard awkwardly moved his calloused fingers through Jenny’s windswept brown hair, brushing back the unruly strands from masking her face in a new gesture of comfort. He had never touched her that way before, but a sudden memory came back to him as he remembered that Joan used to do it with both of their daughters when they were very young and upset and it always seemed to settle them. It also seemed to work now, as Jenny’s tears slowed to almost nothing. “All morning,” he said, talking as Jenny’s sniffles subsided, “I were cursing meself for letting you go. Not trying to stop you. I didn’t know that you had gone to Leeds. I were looking all over for you, about ready to take the truck out to search for you on the roads, then Helen came up this morning and told me you left for good. Realized then that it were because you thought I would chose Louisa over you.”

Jenny bit back any retort to tell him that he had just put into words and finally realized the exact way that he had made her feel. However, any anger and frustrated remarks were smothered by the fact that she remembered: neither one of them the day before was completely reasonable and a temper could make anyone’s thoughts and words twisted into darkness and pain, lashing out to save oneself from hurt and only doing injury to both parties involved.

“Jenny,” Richard said quietly. She opened her eyes and raised her head ever so slightly off of his lap. “You left because you thought I’d didn’t care for you as much as Louisa,” he repeated. “I would never. Never pick someone over you. You’re me daughter. And even if you weren’t, we’re friends. You left anyway. Doubted I’d take you back home. But I would. Always will. And I want you to know — I don’t say it hardly enough, I know that now, otherwise you wouldn’t have left — but I.” He paused to take a breath, looking lovingly into his daughter’s eyes. “I love you Jenny. I’ll always love you. More than anyone else. You’re me little girl. You’ll always be me little girl, no matter how far away you go. I’ll worry. Might not show it but I do. You can always come home. Heston’s your home and don’t you ever forget it.”

Jenny’s tears had started up again, and she noticed in her father’s eyes a mirror image of her own. She reached up and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer as she felt the fatherly love that he had for her. In her heart, she had known that he loved her. But to hear him express it out loud, in a verbal manner, was something that she hadn’t heard in a very long time and it touched her, deep down to her very core. “I love you too Dad. Always. And I whatever I do, wherever I go, I want to make you proud. I want you to be proud of me when someone says, ‘There’s Richard Alderson’s daughter and hasn’t she made summat of herself.’”

Richard slowly reached out and put his arms around his daughter, keeping her close after nearly having lost her to the big city. “You do lass. You already do.”

After a quiet pause, in a moment of levity to lighten the heavy and sentimental mood that had fallen over them, Jenny pulled back ever so slightly from his embrace. “It’s good I’m staying. Someone’s got to make sure you get a decent meal. Man can’t live on burnt toast alone. And if one day I’m off living somewhere else there’s got to be someone in me place. I shouldn’t go scaring off any woman who’s brave enough to even step foot on our farm in the first place.”

“Someone in your place?” Richard asked, furrowing his brow. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t be daft. You know who I’m talking about,” Jenny playfully teased him, leaning back in to rest her head on his chest. “But for now you have me. And I won’t leave you. Not for a good long time.”

Chapter Text

Tristan left for Doncaster and Jenny stayed behind on the farm, just as she had promised him. Days slipped into weeks and weeks into months. First went Jenny’s letter, delivered into the hands of Tristan himself. Then his reply was sent to Heston Grange, where Jenny snatched it from the mailman before her father could get a hold of it.

Letters were written at night in lamplight, some in the hayloft, others in the mess hall. Each one signed and sealed with a hope of it arriving to the other person, the letters carrying the emotions left unexpressed but mutually felt between them anyway. After receiving her letter, Jenny would read it over and over again before carefully folding it and placing it away in her keepsake box under her bed. Tristan would likewise keep his in a secret place away from prying eyes and questioning minds, safely stashed away until he could bring them home with him.

And some nights, when they were lonely or longed for home or wistfully remembered the days when they were together, they’d take out the letters and reread them. Neither knew that the other would do the same thing; it just happened.

As it neared the end of his time in Doncaster, Tristan picked up the first letter he got from Jenny and started it over again, the paper wrinkled from repeated handling and the words almost memorized:

Dear Tristan,

Life has gotten back to normal, with the exception of you not being here! I’m sorry I missed seeing you off at the bus, but things — meaning Louisa — came up. Don’t worry, I was nice to her just as I promised you I’d be!

I was actually surprised myself, not that I was surprised that I was nice, but she wasn’t as bad as I remembered her. Maybe I made the whole thing up in my head that she was nasty. One thing’s for sure, she’s no farmer, but she was right when she said she knew how to cook and bake. You’d be proud of me — I made a cake with her and when it was done baking it actually looked like a cake, the kind Audrey makes not the special kind Helen taught me with the sloped top and uneven edges and the burned flavor. I’d have saved you a slice if you were here, but it’s all gone now. It was quite the hit with Jimmy!

You wouldn’t believe who I saw in town! Maggie has her Arthur back for a few days before he gets shipped out again. I don’t remember exactly where he’s to be redeployed to. Maybe India or Burma or somewhere far away over there. Is it bad of me to say I’m glad you’re in Doncaster? Cause I am.

Take care of yourself. I’ll be here waiting for you when you come home to Darrowby.

All the best,
Jenny

Dear Jenny,

You might not believe this — well, you probably will, because why else would I be able to write back to you so quickly? You told me to take care of myself and I wish I could report that I have, but due to unforeseen circumstances, things have taken a turn. Third day back at the base and a contrary Shire with an injured leg lashed out. It was me versus the Shire, and he had the upper hand as I didn’t see it coming. Or should I say upper hoof? You can guess who won.

His hooves can pack a punch. One swing and bam! I got two cracked ribs and they’ve laid up in bed, so I’m writing while awaiting further examination. As of right now, they say I should be good to go in a day or so, but the bruising and soreness should persist for a while. Not long enough for a leave to come home. They think I can work. Must just be short on men. Desperate times you know. Then again, how hard could it be to find a replacement for a Lieutenant who lectures?

I don’t know why I’m complaining. I suppose I could be like Arthur, shipped out overseas to go fight at the frontlines, my very life on the line. Sometimes it feels like I’m not doing enough here. Like I have it too easy. While I get to be safe here in Doncaster, all I do is train and send out these lads, some so young they look like they should still be in school, and then push them out of the nest to fly on their own. I just wish I knew they were ready. Maybe none of us are ever ready.

Anyway, the doc gave my ribs about a month to heal up, maybe a little longer. The body is an incredible machine, self-healing and rejuvenating, without us even thinking about it. Our bodies fight so hard to stay alive, so why are we all fighting to kill? It all seems so bloody useless the more I think about it. There’s got to be a better way, but I guess there isn’t otherwise we wouldn’t be in the middle of a war.

Lying here and waiting for something to happen must be making me philosophical. I wish you were here and you could tell me about what’s happening up at Heston Grange. Oh, and bring me a piece of cake next time! I’d like to see for myself how your baking skills have improved.

Any progress on your dad’s relationship with that lovely lady of his? Or mum’s the word on that whole situation? I shouldn’t even mention that word since just thinking about a mum is probably the last thing you want to worry about, even if that is a completely different type of mum. You can tell me anything and everything, because I’m great at keeping secrets. If you don’t believe me, I’m all the way in Doncaster, so who could I tattle to?

Sorry for the longer note, but I had both time and paper and a longing to talk to someone from home, even if it is one sided.

Take care,
Tristan

Dear Tris,

Hopefully this letter finds you out of bed and back to work, even if you do have sore ribs! I’m glad you sent me a longer note. You’ve given me some things to think about and I’m happy to hear from you, no matter how short or long it is. Last year, not even, really only six months ago, our letters weren’t so serious, but it’s good to know you feel comfortable enough opening up to me. I hope you don’t mind I’ll do the same to you, because I think you need to hear this. Ready? Here it goes, and I have plenty of paper and time:

You talk about feeling like you don’t do enough. Like you aren’t enough. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. Then you’d know you’re ^almostperfect for being imperfect. You’re a good man, but I don’t just mean it like I’m praising you for doing your duty and what’s expected of you. I won’t forget how you willingly signed up to join the army when you didn’t have to. That takes guts. You went to France and from there to Egypt in the blazing heat and faced I don’t know what and I don’t need to know, but I know it can’t be all pubs and parties like you make it out to be. You’re brave. You’re strong. You’re smart. You think you’re not doing enough now, but not just anyone can go out in front of a bunch of people and lecture and not just talk but ask questions to teach and train. You’ve been entrusted with these men to prepare them to go out and fight and care for themselves and their animals. They can only do it if they have a good teacher. Your commanding officer knows that. He sees you Tristan Farnon. But at the same time, he’ll never know the real you. Not the Tristan Farnon I know.

I’ve known you all my life. Grown up with you in a way, when you were home from school and you came by with your brother on farm calls. Or when we came to Skeldale with a smaller animal who needed help only a vet could give. You’d think I wouldn’t have noticed cause I was so young, but I did. I saw how you were mischievous, how you defied Siegfried even then. I liked that — I thought you were a lot like me. But I also saw the side of you that cared for the animals with a gentleness that most lads I knew didn’t have. Deep down you have a nurturing sense about you and a soft heart. I admired still admire that.

I don’t know what point my admiration turned into something more. Too early I suppose, since you properly jilted me when I poured my heart out to you in love confession! I still blush when I think of it. Don’t hold it against me — it was one of my greatest mistakes, next to almost leaving for Leeds. I still have some growing up to do I guess.

Don’t think I meant it was a mistake falling in love with you. Any woman would be lucky to have you as her man. I know I would think myself lucky if I could call you mine. But right then, at the ripe old age of seventeen, it wasn’t the right time, even if I really truly thought myself an adult! Maybe in two years I’ll look back at this time in my life and see what a child I still am. That’s a humbling thought!

Even if I do change as I get older, there’s one thing that won’t. I’ll still always look up to you, no matter what happens when you’re away. They say war changes a man. I’ve seen the soldiers that return and I agree — one can’t go through battles and wartime horrors and not be changed. Some men it puts callouses on their heart, same as the kind one gets on their hands from gripping a pitchfork too tight. Work hardens them. A soldier’s work is war, sees things he can’t forget, but the callouses help hide the pain by hardening his heart so he doesn’t notice so bad the next time something painful comes along. But callouses go away after a while, and slowly maybe a soldier’s hidden wounds and protective case around his heart will too.

Other soldiers get that hollowed out look in their eyes, like they’ve experienced something too terrible to recount. They look like scared horses, broken spirits and eyes wild with fear. They need trust and patience, same as the horse. It’s not about breaking them, because their spirits have been broken. It’s about fixing and healing. And time and love are the greatest healers of all.

I don’t know where I was going with this other than to say that no matter what, I’m here for you. If you’re broken, if you’re hardened, I won’t leave you. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, even if you decide it’s just as your friend. I hope you don’t mind, because I’m not going anywhere. And don’t laugh, thinking I’ve gone all serious on you. I’m still the same Jenny you left behind.

Writing all this has given the two lovebirds downstairs enough time together. Probably too much time alone actually. You know how it is with the young ones these days — always getting into trouble! I better go see what they’re up to, but I’ll make some noise so they know I’m coming. Give them warning. It’s only fair after all.

Things are getting serious between them. Lou tends to come by every other week now, mostly because Dad would rather have her here to talk to than have to go down to the phone and call her up. Gets expensive doing that all the time! He’s still too stubborn to put in a phone at the house. I wonder when he’ll decide that it’s bloody inconvenient to have to walk down to the road instead of having one in the hall. Besides, then I could use it to call you instead of having to rely on letters. I think if Lou and I work on him enough he’ll get worn down eventually. See? I’m being nice to her and it has its perks. Our friendship makes a good alliance after all. We’ll see how long Dad lasts before he gives in. Want to bet, Farnon?

I’ll give him two months. Two bob on that. In any case, let’s hope it’s before you come back from Doncaster!

Always yours,
Jenny

Dear Jenny,

When did you grow up and become so wise? It seems like every time I turn around you've gotten years older in maturity and probably by the time I arrive home, you will have surpassed me in worldly wisdom and knowledge. I don't mind. I've always had a respect for women who know more than I do and I much rather defer to them than make decisions on my own. Actually, the only big decisions I've ever made were made in defiance of Siegfried when he told me I couldn't do something. Have to prove him wrong after all! He can't know everything about me and have my life charted out before I’ve even lived it!

The way you write makes it seem like you know more about me than I know about myself. Only fair I guess since we've been friends so long. Somehow you put into words what was weighing me down but it feels good to know that I'm understood. You better make sure no one sees what you write to me. They might think you like me more than a girl should like someone she used to think of as a brother figure. Not that I mind, but your father might wonder.

I'm back to work now. No rest for the wicked! I think they're making me do double duty to make up for any time lost. I suppose they think that they need me here after all, and I won't complain anymore. It's nice to be in the army but so close to home. Maybe instead of feeling guilty for not doing more, I should think myself lucky while it lasts.

I'll take you up on your bet. I'll say two bob on one month. If the rain keeps up, he won't want to trudge down to the phone every time he feels like talking to his lady friend and have a hard time hearing her due to the sound of the rain.

Be a good little chaperone, and take care of yourself too.

Your friend,
Tris

Dear Tris,

That’s good to hear that you're now resolved to be content in your current position as an instructor in Doncaster. I was getting worried for a bit that you'd ask to be transferred to where the action was, and though I know I couldn't stop you — someone once told me that if you love someone, you set them free — I like the thought of you close by home. You see, I have this feeling where I need you more than just want you, but our country feels like they need you more. And who am I to stop them from having you? I know when you're far away you're fighting not just for your country, but for your neighbors and friends and for your future. I'm one of them and I hope I'm a part of your future. So keep fighting — for us!

Instead of getting mushy because that's not me, I'll fill you in on some news from home. I'm sure Siegfried keeps you up to date on what's happening at Skeldale, but maybe he leaves out how stretched thin he and James are. They need you too. This lambing season is one of the busiest they've had and every time I talk to Helen she says that she barely sees James other than at night and even then he's called out to one farm or another. At least if anything ever happened where you had to come home, they'd have a place for you here and a job. I think they need to find an assistant in the meantime — another Carmody maybe?

I went down to the Drovers the other night with Dad and you know who. I was able to catch up with Maggie for a bit. She said that her brother David finally got his papers and he's off to be trained in Durham. I know he's not brave, but maybe stepping away from everything he's ever known and being thrown in at the deep end will help him find the courage he has inside. Everyone’s got a little courage in them, so I’m hoping even David will find his. Think I should give him a pep talk like I did with you? He'd probably just think I talk too much. Maybe I do?

I took Jimmy riding for the first time last week. I was with him the whole time, holding onto him as we took Joan just around the barn. Didn't go far, but Helen was still nervous. I think she thought I was going to drop him or something, but I had a good hold. Besides, Joan's the best horse you could ever ride. She's shockproof, but don't go getting any ideas for recruiting her to Doncaster! Her home's Heston and I'm keeping her with me always.

Still no talk of a phone being installed here. Your time is running out and I fully expect two bob in your next letter. And don't you dare not send me a letter just to get out of it!

Eagerly awaiting your reply,
Jenny

Tris —

You're probably wondering why I'm writing again so soon when it's only been two days since I last sent you a letter. Maybe you haven't even gotten that one yet as I'm writing this.

Forget the phone. We'll probably never get one now as Dad won't need one to talk to Louisa.

They're getting married.

I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about this. I know I should be happy for both of them and I have gotten to like her a lot. But to think that she's going to be a stepmother to me makes me feel uneasy. Like everything's going to change and I don't know where I'll fit in anymore.

I heard them talking of marriage as I was coming downstairs. They didn't know I was listening and I didn't mean to eavesdrop, it just happened. I didn't not listen though either. It's a bad habit I've kept since childhood. Anyway, there they were yesterday evening, sitting at the kitchen table, just talking. Not all sappy like, just as if they were discussing the weather. Only they were talking of moving her here and what she would do if she became one of us. Louisa Alderson. Doesn't sound bad but it's strange to think there will be someone in my mum's place for the first time ever.

I didn't let on that I heard them and went back up to my room. Didn't cry about it, just sat there and thought for a long time. Then I went back downstairs and they told me. Spoke to me really calm and quietly like they were trying to break bad news. Used that voice we use talking to Jimmy when we have to explain that he's not going to get his way. I was good then too. Didn't fuss, didn't yell, didn't run away. Just stood there and took it like a woman.

That was yesterday. Today I'm writing to you. You deserve to know the biggest news in all of Darrowby and the most earth-shattering news of my life.

I only hope I can keep up this play acting of being happy. They deserve happiness and I won't be the one to spoil everything. Not again. If I ruin this, God help us all.

— Jenny

Dear Jenny,

It’s no wonder you signed off on your last letter as eagerly awaiting my reply. So I’ll get it over with now. Business before pleasure, they say. Enclosed you’ll find two shillings as I have officially lost the bet. I’m a man of my word and don’t think you haven’t wounded my pride thinking I wouldn’t pay up. That would be underhanded, completely against how a gentleman would act! I do however thoroughly look forward to winning it back from you next time — and I will win.

You’re right about Siegfried’s letters. He rarely talks about financial worries or problems with the practice to me, so writing it down in a letter is practically nonexistent and unheard of. I’ve assumed they’ve been working their arses off since it’s the busiest time of the year for a vet — that Siegfried always reminds me of — but he hasn’t mentioned being overwhelmed. I wish he didn’t have to be so set in making sure he claims every farmer in Darrowby and the surrounding areas as part of his clientele. There is another vet in the area and though I think it’s good for Siegfried to work hard and show that he’s still got it — whatever you want to interpret ‘it’ as, go right ahead — but it shouldn’t come at the cost of his health or working Jim to death. George Pandhi could probably use the work anyway.

There’s that, and as much as I hate to admit it, seeing as he’s the one I’ve always looked up to as this unbeatable, powerful tower of strength, Siegfried is getting older. He’s not old to the point of retiring but he really should think of getting someone younger to help him out. I’m not there and it shouldn’t all fall on Jim. Of course, if Helen starts thinking of her own husband as a stranger, then we’ll really have a problem on our hands, but maybe Siegfried will finally notice he needs the help. Or he could hire you, the wisest farmer girl in all of Yorkshire!

So David’s being sent off after all? I almost hoped it wouldn’t come to it, for his sake and his family’s. How’s Maggie taking it? I know she’s worried about Arthur already, and now having her younger brother gone too — it’s only going to add doubly to her troubles.

It’s nice hearing that at least the greatest worry at Heston Grange was Jimmy’s ride. Sometimes it feels like your farm is untouched, and I mean that in a good way. This is what happens when one doesn’t finish a letter in one sitting. I’m not rewriting all the above, so here’s a continuation since I just got your breaking news.

Heston is touched by change after all! I’m hoping that my letter doesn’t get returned to me under the circumstances of the recipient no longer living at the address on the envelope. I swear that if you ran off to Leeds I’ll go search for you and drag you back home. You promised you wouldn’t leave! Stay true to your word Jenny!

I’ve never met Louisa personally, but it seems like I’ll have plenty of opportunities to in the future. Maybe it’s not too late and we could still come up with some sort of plan to set her up with Siegfried…

Or you two could learn to get along as stepmother and stepdaughter. Might be simpler than the alternative. I know it’ll seem strange at first but it’s not too bad having a new mother figure in your life. Believe me, I’ve had many. And who doesn’t like to be mothered? Unless perhaps… Jenny Alderson doesn’t?

So spill: When’s the wedding date? How’d Helen take the news? Does your dad seem utterly besotted with his girlfriend-now-fiancée or was she the scheming femme fatale you took her for in the beginning?

I’m guessing you’ll be busy with wedding plans so I understand if you don’t write back right away. I won’t automatically assume you’ve run away or found some other solider to write to.

So don’t disappoint me either and write back saying you live in Leeds now!

Yours faithfully,
Tristan

P.S. You can still keep the two bob, but don’t think you’ve got off easy. I’ll win it back from you some other day.

To Tristan, a gentleman and man of his word just as he said he was:

First, thanks for including what was owed to me in the last letter. I don’t know why I ever doubted you. But just to make sure that you don’t try and collect it back, I’ve already spent it and Scruff thanks you as it went toward his food.

I just returned home from a long day of helping Lou pack up her things. I got a whole crate of her stuff in my room now. No, I’m not snooping through it since that’s probably what you’re thinking. It’s just sitting there untouched. Nothing too interesting anyway, just a bunch of books and records and ridiculous knickknacks we’ll probably have to find a home for on our shelves where we have no room for them in the first place. And I just realized that what I just wrote sounds like a confession that I did snoop through her things, but is it really snooping if she asked me to pack them?

We don’t have a phone, but we’ve got something new to us and much bigger. Her piano got moved over today. You should’ve seen us try to get it in through the hall. It’s not one of those fancy grand pianos, not even a baby grand, which is still pretty big if you ask me. It’s an upright like the one Siegfried has in his study. But it didn’t want to fit around the corners and we almost got it stuck and scratched. Thankfully it’s still in one piece and no walls had to come down.

You should’ve seen one of the lads moving it. So tall and all muscles. Built like a draft horse he was and I mean that in a good way. I think he liked me. Winked at me once when Dad wasn’t looking. If I didn’t already fancy a man in uniform, I might’ve looked twice, but I didn’t. Once was enough. I don’t think I’ll see him again anyway, so a small glance didn’t hurt anything.

I guess you can deduce for yourself how taken Dad is with Lou. You know how he doesn’t like change but now we have the piano and everything. He wouldn’t do that for just anyone, so I’m pretty sure marriage was his idea first then she went along with it. I don’t know what for, but I guess even older people can still fall in love just like us younger people. Not that we’re in love like that with marriage on our minds but I mean younger people in general, not you and me in love with other people or even you and me together in love with each other. <—I have no idea how to say that properly so ignore that. It sounded better in my mind and I know you know what I meant.

June 20th. It’s a Sunday, the day they’re getting married. 2 o’clock in the afternoon, in case you can make it, but I know you’re not due back for at least for another couple weeks after that. They’re wasting no time on a long engagement and just are going to get married, but I guess when you’re older you worry more about time because you don’t have as much of it left. And then it’s less times Dad has to go down to the phone box to call her up.

Helen’s supportive and didn’t put up as much of a fuss about him getting remarried as I felt like making. Or she’s just better at hiding her feelings than I am. Anyway, she’s already prepping the reception after the wedding, which will be at Skeldale. Too bad you won’t be there! Audrey’s busy helping with invitations and Maggie’s working on asking around for getting the food. It won’t be anything fancy, because that’s not who we are. Just simple plates and good company.

Speaking of Maggie. You asked how she was coping and she seems fine. She’s got other things to think about now, not just her brother off training and her husband off fighting. I could wait until you hear it from her, but word’s already gotten around. I’ll see if you can guess what souvenir Arthur left her during his last leave.

Still no progress on Siegfried finding a new assistant. Lambing season’s slowing down now anyway, but I don’t think he’s even tried to look. Probably just waiting for you to come home, like we all are. I know I am.

Still eagerly awaiting your response,
even when I don’t have two bob owed to me —
Jenny

Dear Jenny,

You last letter was most troublesome. I expected to open it and read of your lasting devotion to a soldier who needs a morale boost and here your letter is full of you fawning over some piano mover! All muscle you say? I’m no scrawny lad myself, or haven’t you noticed? Have you been too busy making eyes at the help or have you simply forgotten me in my absence?

You’ve made me want to come home even more now, if only to keep away your Samson. Then again, like you said: what’s one look? As soon as I return home I’ll make you forget all the rest.

It’s really too bad I won’t be back in time for the wedding. What I wouldn’t give to see your father’s last night as a bachelor! I am due a leave for a day or two, so you never know, but no promises.

If there’s one thing I love about getting your letters is that you’ll include some juicy tidbit or two of Darrowby gossip. I have an idea of what you’re getting at — I wasn’t born yesterday — but I’ll check with Maggie in a couple of weeks when I’m back. At that point I probably won’t even need to ask, since word will have gotten all over town and I might be able to see for myself at that point. I don’t know whether to worry for her or to be happy. I guess I’ll settle on happy since that’s typically the general reaction to a… you know. I won’t say the word until it’s confirmed.

Thanks too for staying at Heston Grange. You don’t know what a relief it was to see your home address as the return address on the envelope and not some flat in Leeds. Besides, if you left, how would I be kept in the know of what’s going on around Darrowby? Siegfried’s too busy to notice and Mrs. H is too good so she doesn’t talk about people other than news from our family. Not that you aren’t good, but you and I don’t have the moral scruples that she has. Bet we have more fun though!

If I don’t hear from you again before the wedding, good luck, and I hope it all goes well. Be a good girl, as you always are. Or try to be, at least!

Your partner in crime,
Tris

P.S. If Scruff benefited from my loss then it was money well spent. Give that good boy a hug for me!

Chapter Text

It was a lovely day, one typical for late June in the Yorkshire Dales. He had taken special notice of the beautiful weather all throughout his sudden journey home, one that he neglected to mention to anyone. It was only for two days, and considering his leave arose on rather short notice even for himself, he decided not to tell anyone. Undoubtedly it only would’ve slipped Siegfried’s mind anyway if he brought it up over the phone. And a surprise was good for the soul once in a while. At least, that’s what Tristan tried to convince himself of to suppress any pesky feelings of guilt that clouded his conscience.

As he stepped off the bus and took his first deep breath of the familiar fresh air, he looked around at the town, somewhat quiet for a typical Sunday afternoon. Of course, his visit coincided with the weekend of the wedding of Mr. Alderson to Mrs. Elliott, which would account for some of the lack of people bustling through the village’s streets.

He was once teased about always showing up in time for a party. In fact, it was just that his timing seemed to work impeccably well through no planning of his own accord. If the people’s claim was completely true, he would’ve made sure to arrive the day before for Richard’s last night as an unmarried man — now that was something he would’ve given anything to see and be a part of. But the timing wasn’t perfect, so he would have to settle for an afternoon in the church attending a wedding he wasn’t invited to, and then hopefully he would be able to attend the reception later on, which would have food, drink, and the friends and family he wanted to be with.

Tristan wasn’t overly worried about crashing the wedding as he knew he would’ve been invited had he been in town on a more permanent basis. After all, he was closer to the Aldersons than anyone else in all of Darrowby. That is, the Alderson lasses. Helen was like his own sister and Jenny, well, he was closer to her than anyone suspected. That would certainly have given him an in to the wedding, even if he couldn’t say that he felt particularly chummy with their father.

Before heading off in the direction of the church, he stopped in at the Drovers and saw Maggie at the bar, still cleaning up presumably from the party the night before. “Hello,” he called out from the doorway, plopping down his belongings as he stepped up to the bar, conveniently empty for a more personal chat.

“Tris! You’re home early?” Maggie said with a smile, happy to see her friend back and looking well.

“I got a two day leave before heading back to Doncaster to finish out the month. Then I’m home again, until the next assignment, wherever that may be,” he told her, trying his best to hide his apprehension at thinking of what would come next or if he’d be reassigned somewhere else, knowing that she had her own worries with her husband and brother serving (or going to serve) overseas.

“So you didn’t come back just for the Alderson wedding?” Maggie asked, pushing the damp towel to the side and putting her elbows on the bar as she leaned forward to talk.

“Happy coincidence,” Tristan explained. “What’s the time? Is it over yet or am I in time to watch the old chap get hitched?”

Maggie glanced down at her watch. “About forty-five minutes before it starts,” she told him.

“Good, gives me time to have a pint and then we can catch up,” Tristan said happily, comfortably crossing his arms against the bar as he leaned forward in eager expectation. Upon noticing Maggie’s skeptical look he just shrugged. “What? I need fortification, don’t I?”

At precisely one-thirty in the afternoon, Tristan left the Drovers and stopped into Skeldale. He never knew how Siegfried managed to find a house so convenient to the pub, but he would forever be grateful for it. Seeing that no one was home (which wasn’t surprising), he brought his things upstairs and quickly changed into a suit and tie, which he figured was a bit more appropriate for a wedding than his uniform. It would have done, but it would also look like he just jumped off the bus and went directly to the church to crash their wedding. That happened to be closer to the truth than he wanted to admit, but the appearance of looking like he had planned for weeks that he would attend would come off better, especially as he had never met Louisa and he wanted to make a good first impression, for future alliances.

After a quick combined greeting and farewell to the dogs, Tristan set out for the church, where many familiar faces were already streaming in. Compared to the Herriot’s wedding, this one appeared to have the whole congregation and then some in attendance. Must be what Louisa wanted, Tristan thought to himself. Richard never cared for a big crowd, especially if they had all come to see him as the center of attention. It was funny how love could make someone change so much.

The advantage to the small crowd forming at the church was that Tristan found that he could slip in without much attention being drawn to himself, despite his arriving back home after being gone for a couple of months. He looked around for one of his family members, but only saw farmers and townspeople.

A small commotion erupted in the back of the church, going unnoticed by most, but the familiar voices of Helen and James talking got his attention. Curiosity properly piqued, Tristan made his way down the aisle to see what was happening. “Can I be of assistance?” he asked.

“Tris!” James happily exclaimed, forgetting for a second about the mini crisis his wife was having. “Welcome home!”

“What are you-“ Helen started to ask before shaking her head and refocusing on her problem at hand. “Never mind that. Have you seen Jenny?”

“No,“ Tristan started, but Helen in her flustered state interrupted him quickly.

“I thought you might’ve, since you two, well, let me go check with Aud seeing as she has Jimmy. Maybe she’s seen her,” Helen sighed, standing on her tiptoes to try to see over the taller people surrounding her.

As Helen took off in search of her friend, James, however, was still on the last topic. “Why would you know where Jenny is?” he asked Tristan, who only gave him a shrug.

“How long has she been missing?” he asked James, not overly concerned about Jenny having run away, but slightly worried that she might be having one last rebellion against her soon-to-be stepmother. That would be a rocky start to their new family relationship and he didn’t want their transition to be harder than what it was inevitably going to be.

“She left Heston earlier to bring a bouquet to Louisa,” James said, “and she delivered it to her room at the inn, but we haven’t seen Jenny since.”

“I’m sure she’ll turn up,” Tristan said, stepping to the side to let some people through the aisle. “She wouldn’t miss this. How often does one get to attend their own father’s wedding? Even if he’s not marrying her mother… not really… you know what I mean.” He gazed outside the church doors, which were still wide open to let in those who hadn’t yet arrived. An idea came to mind and without saying another word to James, he darted outside.

“I brought you these. Seemed only right to bring you some too since Lou got a bouquet,” Jenny said softly. She leaned over to gently set down a collection of purple, yellow, and white wildflowers at the base of her mother’s headstone. “I know how you loved them. These are the kinds you liked. Made sure of it. You always said they grew best because they were wild and grew where they wanted to, no one stopping them and no one putting them where they didn’t want to be.”

She then kneeled down in front of the headstone, her fanciest dress flaring out slightly around her knees as the edge of the fabric skimmed the lush green grass. Though it was undoubtedly her nicest dress and also her newest, she didn’t care that she was probably getting grass stains on the hemline. She hardly thought of it. All she could think of was how it seemed ironic that the first time she had ever visited her mother’s grave by herself and of her own initiative was on the day her father was getting remarried.

“Dad won’t forget you, even though he’s marrying Lou. He likes her a lot. Probably not as much as he loved you, but you aren’t with us anymore so he’s got to find a second best. He made believe it were because I needed a new mum in me life, but it’s not that cause I were happy the way things were. It’s really because he missed having someone there other than me who he could talk to. I think it’ll be alright. We only want the best for him, don’t we? I know you wouldn’t want him to be lonely either.”

She reached out and ran her fingers across the engraving of her mother’s name. “I’m sorry. Sorry I haven’t visited here. I hope you don’t think I’ve forgotten you. It’s just… I don’t picture you here. I can’t, not when everything at Heston reminds me of you. Every meal I make I wonder how you’d do it. Every time I go take care of Candy I remember how you taught me to ride and how you loved her so. Every night I remember how you’d tuck me into bed and kiss me goodnight. Until you got too sick to do it and then I’d come into your room and kiss you goodnight.”

Jenny pulled her hand back and folded it in her lap, looking down at her tightly clenched hands. She swallowed back the rising emotion in her throat that threatened to overtake her words. “You’re so much a part of home, I can’t ever forget you. I don’t want to. I’ll love Lou as one of our own, because that’s the way you’d have wanted it. It’s what Dad wants. Me being kind, as you were. But not one day will go by when I won’t think of you and miss you.”

“I wish you could be with us all now. Though if you were, Dad wouldn’t be getting married, I wouldn’t have tried running away — well, never mind about all that. It’s behind us now and we don’t mention it anymore. I wonder what you’d say about each of us. Your girls all grown up. If only you could be here and hold little Jimmy. Your first grandchild. You don’t seem old enough to be a grandmother, but I guess you are now. Helen’s such a good mum, just like you. I want to be like her and you. Wish I knew how. Sometimes me temper gets the best of me and I can’t stop it. I speak before I think, I act before I reason. I’m learning, but not fast enough.”

She plucked a blade of grass and fiddled with it in her hand as she continued talking. “I guess I’ll have to figure it out meself. I do wonder though, would you have wanted me to stay on the farm? Or should I leave and try somewhere new? I don’t want to be in Dad’s way, but I love it there. It’s not just the place; it’s the people. Our family’s there and we’ve always said that family comes first. How can I put them first if I’m far away?”

“Other girls leave home. I guess I could too. But if I left, I’d also leave him and I love him, even if sometimes I wonder if he really feels the same about me or if he’s just playing along so me feelings don't get hurt. Sometimes he seems like he does love me and other times it’s like he’s afraid of summat — maybe of admitting it. If you’re listening, if there’s some part of you that hears me, you know who I’m talking about.” She stopped and looked skeptically at the headstone before lifting her eyes heavenward. She never could quite wrap her head around the whole life after death situation, but it’s what she was taught, though she didn’t have to believe it. Not fully anyway. “And it’s not Dad,” she added for clarification, just in case her mother was listing and had some sort of confusion over the whole situation.

“All I want to do is do what would’ve made you happy, but there’s so many things I could do and places I could go and all I want to do is stay. I wish you were here. You could tell me what I should do. Sometimes I’m so sure of meself and then I go and mess everything up. If you could just give me a sign or summat, just so I know what to do with me life, if staying is what they want. Dad and the rest of them. I know that’s silly, so you don't have to bother. You can’t from where you are; it’s not the way it works.”

Standing behind her, Tristan cleared his throat ever so slightly so as not to startle Jenny from her one-sided conversation with her mother. “It’s almost time,” he said softly, casting his gaze down at her.

“Tris? What are you doing here?” Jenny exclaimed, throwing away the creased blade of grass in between her fingers and scrambling to her feet, quickly brushing off any hint of dirt that clung to her legs and dress.

“They were looking for you and I decided to help,” Tristan started to explain.

“No, I mean back home, here in Darrowby!” Jenny laughed, stepping back to get a better look at him. He seemed virtually unchanged, which was a good sign. She had hoped that he hadn’t been sent back due to an injury he neglected to mention in one of his letters.

“Oh, I was owed two day’s leave so I thought I might as well take them up on it,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at the church behind them. “They won’t start without you.”

“I’m sure I’m not that important to hold up the whole wedding,” Jenny scoffed. “They wouldn’t even notice if I weren’t there.”

“I seriously doubt your father will marry any woman without both of his daughters in attendance,” Tristan said. “You being there is showing that you give your blessing.”

“Like that would change anything?” Jenny asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms.

“It means more than you know,” Tristan stated. He offered her his arm to take. “Shall we?”

Jenny only allowed a moment’s hesitation to pass between them before looping her arm through his. “Let’s.”

They walked along the path toward the church and passed multiple headstones on the way out. “Would you believe that were me first time doing that?” Jenny chuckled. “I didn’t expect to have an audience.”

“Did it make you feel better, talking to her?”

She thought about his question, not really realizing before that she had even gone there for some sort of ritualistic healing for her emotions. “I guess so. Aye, it did,” she decided. “How long were you standing there?”

“Not long,” he replied. “Just a few seconds, maybe.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry for my eavesdropping, but honestly, you are making your mother proud. Though, maybe you don’t believe it because you don’t think that she’s listening to you?”

“If that’s what they say, then maybe she is,” Jenny said, the hint of doubt coming across in her tone.

“And what do you think?”

“I think that someone like me mum, who loved the land as if it were a part of her, wouldn’t want to be in heaven, where she couldn’t feel the sun on her face or the grass beneath her feet or the wind in her hair. But I can’t picture her dead in the ground, completely lifeless. She were too full of spirit for that, before she got sick.”

“So your consensus?” Tristan asked, stopping in front of the church so they could continue their discussion outside of it and not offend the vicar or the churchgoers if they happened to overhear Jenny’s skeptical comments on what was commonly believed to be Biblically true.

Jenny shrugged. “I’m not sure about Mum. But if it were me, I know I haven’t been good enough for heaven but I’m not wicked enough for the other place. I guess I’d just live free in the Dales, go wherever I pleased, do whatever I want.”

“A ghost?” he said with a smirk.

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t haunt anybody. Maybe a little mischief now and then, but nowt bad.”

Tristan’s eyes gave away his amusement. “Ah, so a sprite of some sort.”

Jenny thought about the analogy before deciding it wasn’t such a bad one. “Aye, a sprite.”

Tristan smiled as he put his hand around hers and started walking with her into the church. “Well, come on my sprite. There’s a wedding waiting for you.”