To Love a Way of Life Read online

  “I know,” Emma said.

  “Let me show you the cottage,” he said. “You might hate it, it’s covered in Stan hair.”

  A nose pushed between their hug. Stan had noticed what was happening. Emma realised the two men in this house seemed to care for her, Stan and Patrick. She felt silly getting so emotional over a simple offer of a bed, but Patrick seemed to understand what a big step it would be for her. This wasn’t just a few new clients, this could be an entirely new way of life. And it was a little overwhelming. She steeled herself, she was an adult and capable.

  Stan had picked up on her mood, he was as good as Patrick at picking out emotions.

  “I can deal with Stan hair. Can’t I Stan?” Emma said. “That’s right boy!” The dog had pressed them apart and was glad he was getting some attention. He seemed to be doing a cat impression and had curled himself around Emma. It was just what she needed. She became engrossed in giving Stan belly rubs and ear scratches. Stan was obviously delighted by the attention.

  Patrick was on the phone. He was telling Daniel they’d be a little late, but not to worry. Emma didn’t want to keep them waiting, but Patrick reassured her that this actually suited Daniel; he and Peter were busy trying to dig a tree stump out of the ground and needed a little more time before they’d be free. Patrick beckoned to Stan and led the dog and Emma to the cottage she realised could become her temporary home.

  The cottage was beautiful, a lot of wooden fixtures, it was like a high quality holiday home. Someone would pay a lot of money for a week in a place like this. Emma was still unsure though, but her thoughts were interrupted when Patrick said it was time to go visit Daniel.

  She grabbed her stuff from her car; a few tax forms she figured he might need and her notepad, tablet and a calculator. She never could rely on the one built into her computer. She’d had this calculator since she started college, it was a gift from her Grandfather.

  Chapter 4

  The farmhouse they drove to was right on the main road out of the town. Ballyhane looked beautiful, plenty of hanging baskets and stone troughs filled with flowers. There were a few kids playing in the car park of the little supermarket and a little girl hanging around with them eating an ice-cream.

  Daniel’s farm was exactly what Emma expected. There was a few barns, one filled with bails of fodder, another with farm machinery and a smaller one filled with grain, and tools. The farmhouse was plain, painted white and with some moss growing up the walls.

  As they drove in a small dog came bounding out. Patrick opened the back door of the car to let Stan out, he was hesitant with the other dog despite being twice its size. This was the first time Emma had seen Stan anything but confident; whether bold with energy or happily lying in a sun patch.

  “Watch out Stan, she’ll get you!” A young man called out from the yard.

  “Is Stan a bit intimidated by the ladies?” Emma asked.

  “He’s terrible with women,” Patrick said. “I don’t know where he gets it from.”

  “Hey Patrick,” said the man in the yard. “Dan is still working on that stump, the roots are dug in deep.”

  “I’ll go help him,” Patrick said. “Emma, Peter handles their business affairs, so you don’t need me or Daniel. I’ll be with you as soon as we get this stump out.”

  Emma grabbed her stuff from the car and walked towards Peter. “I’m Emma, by the way,” she said.

  “The whole village knows about you. I think you’ll be doing the accounts for every business owner within fifty miles.”

  “Are you Daniel’s partner?” Emma asked.

  “Civil partner,” Peter said.

  “Oh, you’re—“

  “We were going to hold out for full marriage legislation to pass before getting married, but when Daniel’s mother got sick she wanted her big day.”

  “That’s awful,” Emma said.

  “She enjoyed the day, I think it brought her some comfort. And it really was her big day. She was so proud of Daniel”

  “Was it romantic?” Emma asked.

  “I’ll never forget it.” Emma could see the love in Peter’s eyes.

  “This is a small problem for me,” Emma said. “But it also means a lot for you two.”

  “What’s that?” Peter asked.

  “Well, you’re partners, spousal partners. You can claim tax allowances as a couple. There’s a few tax code differences until marriage equality passes, but most of the benefits allow for civil partnerships. I just don’t have any of the forms with me.”

  “I don’t want Daniel’s inheritance,” he said. “I know he wants me to have an equal share but this was left to him.”

  “You’re a couple in the eyes of the law. You’re both joined together for legal matters. And you could save a lot.”

  “But all this is his,” he said.

  “I think this is something you two have to talk over. I can explain what it means from a tax point of view.”

  “We had a lawyer explain it to us before we got married, but we were so worried about Margaret at the time—“

  “This is all just about tax, it has nothing to do with love.”

  Emma realised she had become a marriage counsellor in the last five minutes. These guys were so young. Daniel was what, 23? Peter couldn’t be much older than him.

  “When did you guys meet?” She asked.

  “We were in school together, different classes but we knew each other to see. He came out before me.”

  “Was it tough?”

  “There was a few things said, but mostly everyone was ok. I spoke to him a few months later, told him about me.”

  “He obviously cared.”

  “We were going out by the start of the summer. I came out when we got back to school.”

  “That’s adorable,” Emma couldn’t help herself. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean—“ Foot in mouth syndrome, calling big, burly, manly farmers who worked their land all day ‘adorable.’

  Peter laughed. His shoulders rattled up and down. He was obviously amused by her embarrassment. This wasn’t a big deal to him and she was treating it like some amazing historic event.

  “I think Daniels pretty adorable myself.”

  “How long have you been together?” She couldn’t help herself.

  “Seven years, we’re good together.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m turning your life into some romance, I don’t mean to make it such—“

  “It’s fine, really. It’s strange for the countryside, I know.”

  “Oh my god, you must think I’m such a nose.” Emma’s face turned bright red.

  “I’ll tell you the truth. We’ll sit down to watch a film tonight and we’ll be laughing at this.”

  Emma felt distraught. But they were so young, and Peter really seemed to care for him. But of course he cared for him, they’d been going out for years. They were married, and she was 29 and she had no sight of love, at least anything she’d admit to anyone but Sandra and her mother.

  “Do you have someone in your life?” Peter asked.

  “No. I was seeing a guy last year but it didn’t work out.”

  “Men are pigs!” He said, “Not that I’d know.”

  Emma finally allowed herself a laugh.

  “Patrick asked me to move into one of his cottages.” She didn’t know why she said that.

  “Did you like the woodwork?”

  “Yeah, it was nice.”

  “Only nice? I slaved on that.” He was still playing with her.

  “Did you do the garden furniture as well?”

  “I did, I’ve made tables for a few people.”

  “Ok, that’s another thing to add to the list.” Emma turned the conversation back to solid ground; taxes.

  “Patrick is a good guy,” Peter said. They walked into the house. Stan followed them with his tail between his legs, he was finally left alone by the little female terrier.

  They spent the next while going over receipts, accounts, even Daniel’s mo
ther’s will. Emma was starting to get a good idea of what the situation was.

  “These accounts are in quite good shape,” she said.

  “The farm is definitely profitable,” Peter said. “Patrick helped when he first arrived three years ago.”

  “I don’t just mean profitability, I mean you’ve looked after everything well. This will be easy to sort out.”

  Emma could see a little pride rise in Peter’s face.

  “Did you do all this?” She asked.

  “I took an online course, it helped a little.”

  “These are good enough for me to start saving you money straight out of the gates,” she said.

  Stan raised his head from the floor, he had quietened down while they were working but he had started to get excited again. Daniel and Patrick walked in through the back door. They walked straight over to the kitchen sink and took turns washing their hands. Patrick washed his face as well, his hair wet and slicked back after and Emma could get a hint of a light manly sweat in her nose. Patrick looked amazing.

  She caught herself and focused on the papers but Peter but was looking straight at her. Did he see what she was up to? He just smiled, it might be nothing but if he was in tune with her?

  “The stump is out,” Daniel said.

  “And your accounts are in great shape,” Emma said.

  “Really?”

  “Don’t look that surprised,” Peter said. “You know I took that online course.”

  “I would never doubt you but I thought this stuff was complex.”

  “For a simple farmer, maybe,” Peter said. “For a man with more talents than his husband will ever know it’s a walk in the park.”

  Daniel scrunched up the hand towel and threw it at Peter. Stan saw the fabric fly through the air and made a jump for it, twisting through the air. He missed, but his action drew the attention of Missy, Daniel’s dog who padded over to inspect the very goofy Stan. He immediately ran under the table and hid by Emma’s legs.

  “Poor Stan,” Emma said.

  “For such a smart man you really have a thing for intellectually challenged dogs,” Peter said.

  “It’s his lust for life I like, we’re not sitting down to discuss politics at night.”

  “I think he’d sniff out corruption in a second,” Emma said. She reached down and ruffled Stan’s ear, “Isn’t that right Stan?” He woofed, a firm bark.

  “Are you almost finished, Emma?”

  “I have a few things to work on, but I can do them at home,” she said. “Thanks Peter, you’ve done a great job with the books.”

  Peter and Emma shared a smile then Daniel spoke up, “But where exactly is home?” He said.

  Patrick gave Daniel a stern look. Emma realised Patrick had obviously been talking about inviting her to stay in his cottages. Patrick might be annoyed but she was glad he was talking about it with someone. He was so quiet, and calm and reserved. He needed to have this kind of connection with someone. Even if that someone was a young farmer he could almost be the father of. Well, if he had a kid at the age of 16.

  “There’s no pressure, Emma,” Patrick said. “It’s up to you if you want to stay.”

  “I have that lamb for you,” Peter said, standing and walking to the fridge. He pulled out a big lump of refrigerated meat.

  “I can’t eat all that,” Patrick said.

  “You’ll have to find someone to share it with then,” Peter smiled at Emma.

  They were ganging up on her. They all knew what was going on. Maybe Patrick was more open about his intentions than Emma had previously realised.

  “Get him to cook you his Moroccan tagine,” Daniel said. “My father, a meat and two veg man for all his life couldn’t get enough of it.”

  “And that’s something I’m immensely proud of,” Patrick said.

  “I’d never have thought he could manage all those spices when he was sick.”

  Peter held Daniel’s arm. Something had changed in the atmosphere but Emma didn’t know what.

  “You’re doing well,” Patrick said as he rubbed Daniel’s back. There was a real fatherly look to him as he said it. Daniel put his arm around Peter and gave him a caring squeeze.

  “I have great support,” he said. “And with Emma down here now our business affairs won’t be a worry anymore.”

  “They shouldn’t have worried you before,” Emma said. “Peter is really good with them.”

  “That’s my man!” Daniel said.

  Emma started to assemble her things. She had begun to realise how cared for everyone was in Ballyhane; Patrick really looked out for Daniel and Peter and they seemed to care about him. They seemed to care about her too. She might have been nervous about staying here earlier in the morning but now she realised she could cope in this village.

  “Let me help you with that,” Patrick said as he started gathering the paperwork on the table.

  They walked outside and Patrick opened his driver’s door. Stan jumped up onto the cushion and then jumped over the backrests into passenger seats behind. He could tell Emma was now the main front seat passenger. Peter and Daniel stood in the doorway, Daniel with his arm around Peter, and just as Emma turned she saw him give Peter a peck on the cheek.

  “They’re good for each other,” She said to Patrick as they climbed into the car.

  “I’m glad for them,” he said. “Daniel needs support right now.”

  The conversation quietened as they drove away from the farmhouse. Then Patrick reached over and placed his hand on Emma’s thigh. He squeezed it and gave her a little shake, “So are you excited about your first clients?”

  Emma had to quickly catch herself from her thoughts. Patricks hand completely enveloped her thigh, his grip was strong and powerful, but his touch was tender and caring. She was thinking about nights with him just holding her.

  “I called them adorable,” she said. “Two hardy farmers.”

  “They are adorable, and so young.”

  Emma smiled hearing the word ‘adorable’ come from Patrick’s mouth. It was nice to hear that come from a manly man, someone strong and capable but still comfortable with calling things cute, and nice, and ‘adorable.’ He didn’t hide his tenderness behind his rugged exterior.

  When they arrived back at Patrick’s house Stan jumped and scratched at the door of the car.

  “I think being intimidated by Missy for a few hours has Stan looking for some escape,” Patrick said.

  “Do you want to walk him?” Emma asked.

  “Will you come with us?”

  “I think I will,” Emma said. The smile Patrick gave Emma told her everything she needed to know. Since she met him she was unsure what he thought of her, if this was just business, or if there was something more. But that look told her he cared for her, beyond commercial reasons.

  He wanted to spend time with her, he enjoyed being with her. Emma was getting hungry but her appetite dropped with that smile. She was filled by the care she knew Patrick had for her.

  Patrick grabbed a walking stick from the back of the car. “I don’t need it for walking, but it’s good to have in the countryside in case you need to poke at something and don’t want to risk your hands,” he said. “Biting critters.” He gnashed his teeth. This was a real playful side to Patrick, something she hadn’t seen before.

  “Where will we walk to?” Emma asked.

  “Let me surprise you. I’ll be back in a second.”

  Patrick darted into the house, quickly unlocking the front door. Stan stayed outside with Emma, he knew he was being taken for walkies. He seemed excited at the prospect of running through some fields. Patrick returned and they set off.

  They walked in silence for twenty minutes. Emma felt at peace in the countryside, she realised her worries about gaining clients, and setting up her own business were far away from her. She took solace from the chirping birds, and the few crickets she could hear as it got closer to dusk.

  They came across a little pathway and, there
was a small rambler’s gate. It was designed to let people past but stop cattle and horses from getting through. It looked like it was mostly abandoned, it worked well but the path was mostly overgrown and the only sign it had been walked on at all was the grass was pressed down. There was no earth cleared earth on the ground.

  They went through a small copse of trees and suddenly the view opened up. Before Emma was a lake, trees and wild flowers scattered around the clearing and a stone and rough sand shoreline being lapped by little ripples of water from the lake.

  Emma sighed deeply, she knew this was what she wanted.

  Patrick put his arm around her, and brought her in close to him. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  Emma could feel herself getting a little emotional. She hadn’t realised how tense the past few weeks had been. She hadn’t even realised how tense she was before that; working for Desmond, Desmond and O’Malley had been like walking a tightrope. Even before there were rumours of lay-offs her schedule had been packed. She spent her evenings worrying about work she had yet to do, and how she would fit it all in.

  Now her biggest worry was how she could help a grieving young man get through some tough times. And she knew that was a better worry than helping an SEO company dodge as much tax as possible. This was the kind of worry that filled you with hope for people; that you could help make good things happen.

  Patrick led her to a little beach, only a few meters across but there was a large wooden log set and bolted to some stumps. It was a sturdy piece of craftsmanship.

  “You’re work?” Emma asked, breaking the quiet silence they had shared for the past half an hour.

  “I can’t take credit for it,” he said. “Mr. Emerson, a local pork farmer showed it to me.”

  “It’s perfect,” Emma said.

  “Mr. Emerson made it twenty years ago. His wife died when he was young, and when he was in his fifties he found happiness again,” Patrick said. “He wanted to do something for his new love and he carried and dragged these logs for miles to create this lover’s seat. The first time he brought her here he proposed, and she couldn’t say anything but ‘yes.’”