Chapter Eight
The following night Becky drove out to Mr. Harcroff’s farm house. He had sold off the farm property years ago but still kept the tidy little home and the ten acres of trees on the hillside where it sat.
She was feeling a little nervous as she drove up the lane. Becky had never been to the house before and she had that old feeling again: like she was trespassing in another woman’s space. Mrs. Harcroff’s? she guessed, but then also, there was Kylie. Becky had never been one for meeting strangers. Especially ones from the city.
She parked the truck and mounted the front veranda. Mr. Harcroff opened the door wide to her and gave her a reassuring smile. “Becky. So good to see you. Please come in; come in and meet Kylie.”
He wore a soft denim shirt and matching blue jeans. He l
