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chattering happily, and a group of curious cows watching them over the fence was better than eating in the best restaurant in the world.
    The tension that normally rode his shoulders had drained away. For the first time in years, he was at peace. Part of him wished this evening would go on forever.
    ***
    The front door of Larchfield Hall stood open when Victoria and Sophie walked up the drive on Sunday morning. Harry sat on the front step eating a piece of toast. He crammed the last of his breakfast in his mouth and ran to meet them.
    "Hiya," he called and circled them, tweaking Sophie's pigtails. "Race you to the cow's fence, Soph. Last one there's a slimy slug."
    Sophie took off after him, bringing a smile to Victoria's face. It was good to see her daughter having fun. Most of Sophie's school friends lived in Salisbury, and Victoria rarely had time to ferry her daughter back and forth to town to see them.
    She stepped inside the hall and shouted hello.
    "In the kitchen," Adam shouted back.
    Victoria headed towards the back of the house, noticing two camp beds set up in the sitting room as she passed the open door.
    Adam was leaning over a map spread on the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in his hand. He glanced up, his easy smile welcoming her. "Good morning." His gaze slipped past her then back to her face. "No Sophie this morning?"
    "Harry's already grabbed her. They're out in the garden."
    "I can't believe how much my son likes the garden." Adam shook his head. "I'll have to think about moving out of London to a place with some land."
    A fantasy whispered through Victoria's head of Adam settling down at Larchfield. Although she was sensible enough to realize that it was unlikely to happen even if he didn't develop the property. Larchfield Hall had eight bedrooms—far too many for one man and his son. Anyway, a man like he would never be satisfied with living this far out in the boonies.
    Victoria put down the folio case she held and slid out the plan of Larchfield Hall's grounds that she'd printed off, marking the positions of the hedgehog boxes. "I never got around to showing you this yesterday." She tapped the diagram. "The blue dots are boxes that are still used by the adults I released. The green dots are ones that contain babies, the number beside each box shows the litter size, and the red dots are empty boxes."
    "Why are there empty boxes?"
    "Every time I make a release, I leave a box, but the animal doesn't always keep using it. Sometimes they return to the box for a few days then leave. It's likely some of them have even wandered out of the garden and live in the surrounding fields. Once they vacate the box, I'm never sure where they go."
    Adam brightened. "That's good news. I thought we'd have to move ninety animals. Fewer will make the job a lot more manageable." He ran his gaze down the list she'd laid beside the diagram. "So there are thirty-two boxes, six are empty, eight contain adults with young and the other eighteen just contain adults."
    "That's right. I made a few calls last night and this morning. I have local places arranged to take six boxes, but that's all I could organize."
    "So we need to find sites for twenty boxes."
    "Twenty." Victoria gazed out the window at the ramble of greenery, a sigh rushing out between her lips. That didn't sound like many, but she knew from experience it was difficult to find safe places for the animals.
    "Hey, don't worry. We'll crack this." Adam rested a hand on her shoulder and squeezed.
    At least she didn't have to do it alone. Her grandmother's old saying, "A problem shared is a problem halved," was true.
    "I'm glad you bought this place."
    Adam gave an ironic laugh. "I doubt that. My plans have caused you a lot of trouble."
    "The situation could be much worse. Most developers wouldn't care less about the hedgehogs."
    "I suppose you're right." He turned his attention back to the map, circling a finger over the rural area to the north of Great Monkton. "Shall we