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but being with Adam had turned it into a fun day out.
    He covered her hand with his. "Keep smiling. We'll crack this."
    The warmth of his palm engulfed the back of her hand and spread up her arm. His positive attitude infused her with confidence.
    "Thank you," she whispered.
    "What for?"
    "Just being you."

Chapter Five
    "I've had an idea," Adam said the moment Victoria climbed in his car on Monday. "The obvious place to move the hedgehogs is the field beside Larchfield. If the farmer agrees, we can simply lift the boxes over the fence and put them in the hedges. The owner of the Plume of Feathers is his daughter. She said her father's name is Geoff Andrews, but I imagine you already know him."
    Victoria's startled gaze darted to his face, then away. "That would be a good idea if the field was owned by someone else, but there's no point asking Mr. Andrews. He doesn't like me."
    That sounded a bit odd. "What reason does he have to dislike you?"
    "I don't know. He's had it in for me ever since I moved in to my cottage."
    A flutter of unease passed through Adam. "What exactly has he done?"
    Victoria flapped a hand. "Don't worry. I just ignore him."
    Adam kept his gaze on Victoria, but she wouldn't meet his eyes. He didn't like the sound of this at all. He needed to dig deeper and find out more. Meeting Andrews might help him get the measure of the man.
    "I need to introduce myself to him as his land borders mine. I want to warn him about the development, make sure he knows there will be heavy machinery working at Larchfield in case it frightens his cows. I might as well mention the hedgehogs while I'm at it."
    Victoria shrugged. "Okay, but you're wasting your time." Victoria directed him to Willowbrook Farm a few miles away. Adam turned up the cracked concrete driveway bordered by straggly wire fences and brambles.
    He slowed the car and paused when the farmhouse came into view. Gauging a building's moneymaking potential was second nature for him, and Willowbrook set bells ringing. The farmhouse looked to be eighteenth century and must once have been magnificent.
    Now the building was run-down with tiles missing from the roof and even a few broken windows that had been boarded over. No doubt the inside required major remodeling. There was definite potential for someone to improve the property and sell it on. This wasn't his sort of project—he preferred larger developments—but in the right hands it would turn a tidy profit.
    Adam drew up beside a filthy, dented Land Rover. "You stay here. I'll see what I can do."
    The whole place reeked of neglect, the outbuildings in poor repair, the yard dirty. Even to his untrained eye, Adam could tell the farm machinery lying around was old and poorly maintained.
    As he headed towards the back door, two collies tied to a ring on the wall charged him, barking aggressively like guard dogs. He halted just out of range as they both reached the ends of their chains and pulled up sharply, growling, teeth bared.
    Adam was wondering how to get past them to knock on the door when a short, stocky, gray-haired man in a tweed jacket and rubber boots came out. He hollered at the dogs to shut up and headed Adam's way.
    With a shotgun broken over his arm and a scowl on his face, the man looked anything but welcoming. "What d'you want?"
    "I'm Adam Cantrell, the new owner of Larchfield Hall."
    "Heard it were sold," the farmer said. "What d'you want from me?"
    "I wanted to be neighborly and let you know there's likely to be noise and disruption at Larchfield. I'm building on the land. I wasn't sure if it might frighten the livestock in the field."
    The old man chewed his cheek and assessed Adam as if he didn't trust his honesty. "That one's a big ol' pasture. The cows'll just head over to the other side of the field if they're spooked."
    "Well, that's good. It won't affect you then. Perhaps you can be neighborly too. I'm looking for somewhere to move the hedgehogs that are in the garden. While I'm building,