I was wandering through the garden when someone started pulling up the potatoes, peeling them, and managed to bag the biggest one they could find Emma froze, her heart thudding. She kept walking and realised the cabbage beds were missing the largest heads almost half the crop was gone.
Sarah Miller was thrilled about her purchase. Not just any purchase it was her longheld dream of buying a cottage in the countryside after she retired.
Shed planned it carefully, picking a charming little village just a short drive from the city, where there were only a handful of residents. She wanted peace, quiet, a closetonature vibe, and a garden with a modest veggie patch to keep her busy.
Everything fell into place when she spotted a solid old cottage with a garden on the very edge of the village. It was a bit isolated the neighbours house on one side, then fields, then a wood beyond that but Sarah loved the view. From that spot you could see the rolling hills and the trees as far as the eye could reach.
She started taking those gentle evening walks down the lane toward the woods. The sun would dip behind the spruce tops, and the sunsets were spectacular on those strolls.
Early spring, when the soil was just thawing, Sarah fixed a wobbly fence made of wire and timber all by herself.
Maybe you should put in a new fence, Sarah, suggested her neighbour Margaret, who was about the same age as Emma.
Itll do for now, Sarah replied, swinging her axe to drive the fallen metal post back into the ground.
Margaret chuckled. Youre a proper English housewife, youll get plenty out of this place. Shame there arent many blokes left in the village most have moved away, got older, or passed on. Ive been a widow for ten years.
Sarah nodded. Im not a widow, but Im divorced. My husband and I realised after raising our daughter that we were only staying together for her. Once she was grown and married, it got unbearable. Thats how it is.
Better we dont torment each other, Margaret said, and Ill still get that fence up in the autumn stronger this time.
Sarah spent the whole spring and summer out in the garden and the woods.
Ive never spent so much time outdoors in my life, she told Emma, pointing to the hawthorn bushes by the house and the pine woods where you could always find mushrooms, even just the common ones. The strawberries and blueberries were bursting in summer.
Nice to see you happy with the move, Margaret said, Ive gotten used to it all by now.
The two women became good friends. When autumn arrived, the cabbage heads were plump in the beds, the potatoes had started to sprout, and the harvest looked brilliant.
Sarah began digging up the potatoes for a hearty stew, and she could barely get enough to satisfy her appetite.
Emma, Im heading to town for a few days, she told her neighbour. We have a class reunion its the birthday of our old headteacher, Helen. Ill be back and then finish the harvest.
Emma waved and nodded.
The evening reunion went wonderfully. Emma praised the village, showed photos of the cottage, and talked about the bumper crop.
This soil has rested, she told her old schoolmate Victor, we havent planted anything for two years, but next season Ill order a tractor and start fertilising.
Dont overdo it, Victor warned, take it easy. If you need a hand, just shout.
Sarah smiled, grateful for the offer, but said shed manage for now.
Back in school, Sarah and Victor had been close, maybe even a touch romantic, but life took them to different cities for university, and they drifted apart like most of their classmates.
Now, each year they met up at Helens birthday, sharing stories. Victor was a widower, just like Sarah, and neither pretended otherwise. Their freedom felt oddly comforting no one owed anyone anything, and they could chat like old mates.
That night Victor walked Emma home, and they lingered in the kitchen until almost two in the morning.
Blimey, what time is it? Emma glanced at the clock. You really should be home.
Maybe I could stay here a bit longer? Victor asked.
No, Im off to the village early tomorrow. Grab a cab and get home, thats best.
Emma said goodnight and went straight to bed, looking forward to the next days chores and a treat shed baked for Margaret a little cake and some homemade marshmallows.
The next morning Emma caught the first bus into the village. She stepped through dewslick grass, breathing the fresh country air while the geese honked.
She slipped into the cottage, poured a cup of tea, changed into her work clothes, and headed out to the garden to decide what to tackle first.
The village was quiet; people were just popping out onto their front yards. Emma waited until around nine, then walked over to Margarets house for a cuppa.
In the garden she immediately saw the potato rows all tangled: loose stems everywhere. Someone had been pulling the potatoes, stripping them, and bagging the biggest ones
Emmas heart stopped. She walked further and saw the cabbage heads were missing half the crop vanished.
She let out a startled gasp, then noticed the fence shed painstakingly replanted in spring had a broken post lying flat, and big boot prints scarred the soil.
Sarah sprinted to Margarets window and knocked. Margaret popped her head out.
Whats happened, love?
Someones robbed us, Margaret! Come out, lets have a look what now? tears welled in Emmas eyes.
Margaret threw on her coat and rushed out. That scoundrel they knew there was no one else around, no dog, just you alone
They inspected the scene. It was clear the thieves had come on bicycles, silently slipping over the fence from the far side, breaking the post, bending the wire, and slipping into the garden. They grabbed whatever they could tossed the small potatoes aside, likely stuffed the biggest cabbage heads into bags and rode off.
It wasnt many potatoes, just a few, Emma sighed, but those were my best ones!
Right, Margaret said, and you cant prove who stole what. All the gardens are like this, and I reckon the bikers were some drunks whove just been let out of prison. Hard to prove anything, but no point getting tangled up in it.
What now? Emma sat on the porch, feeling foolish for trusting everyone.
Its not our kind of people, Sarah, Margaret replied. Neighbouring villages have all sorts of folks scraping by, but God sees everything. Dont worry. Ill fetch Mr. Jameson, hell fix the fence. Then well think of the next steps.
Mr. Jameson, a sturdy seventyyearold carpenter, arrived by lunchtime and replaced the broken post with a solid wooden one, plugging the gap with old yet sturdy boards.
Here you go, love, a proper fence. Dont let this get you down. These things happen in villages all the time, so better not leave the house unattended, he advised seriously.
Emma asked, And what about the second thing?
The latch on the front door needs a new lock something sturdy so its obvious no ones home, he replied.
Maybe a dog would help, Margaret added. Even a small one that barks straight away. You cant live on the edge without a bit of security.
Thats three, Sarah muttered, halflaughing.
The new fence makes four! Margaret chimed.
And a strong bloke like you, Jameson, makes five, he finished, grinning.
They all laughed, and Emma wiped her eyes.
Im more upset about losing my hard work than the veg, she said. I put my heart into that garden.
Dont fret, Margaret hugged her, Ill give you as much cabbage as you need. My garden is full, well have enough for winter. We even grew the seedlings together, remember?
They all went for lunch at Emmas cottage. She calmed down, shared a story about a city meetup, and promised to take care of the garden once the harvest was in.
A week later Sarah called Victor back from town. He helped her buy a new deadbolt for the door and they checked the price of materials for a stronger fence.
Ill help you, dont say no, Victor said. Well measure everything on site and head out together. Ill stay a few days, see how the place looks, and plan the work.
Are you really offering to help? Emma began.
Dont even think about paying me. Im on holiday and have nothing else to do, so this is perfect, Victor replied, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.
The villagers were amazed.
Just like the old handyman that showed up, the lads got the fence done in a week, bringing in steel posts and everything, the neighbours whispered.
Sarah prepared a simple meal for the helpers and was glad the garden now had a sturdy fence.
Sure, thieves cant be stopped, but the real treasure here is you, Sarah, Victor said.
Mr. Jameson brought over a puppy from his sisters farm and they named him Baron. The little dog scampered around the yard, more a fluffy toy than a guard, but Sarah liked him anyway and built a snug little doghouse for him.
One afternoon, over tea with Margaret and Jameson, Sarah laughed, Everythings coming together, isnt it? Is the fence strong enough? Will Victor stay?
Will he live here permanently? Jameson asked.
Right, right, Margaret replied, we can see the affection between you two. Hes a hard worker, and he doesnt charge a penny, but I wont restrict his freedom. Hell do what he wants.
Sarah smiled, Well then, lets see how it goes.
Victor returned from his city job with bags of groceries, still renting a flat in the city but spending most evenings in the cottage. Emma gave up her city flat, waiting for Victors deliveries, and they both loved the cosy life together.
A year turned into a month, then another. The couple became wellliked in the village, but never forgot the city entirely they still visited a favourite spa resort each spring. Meanwhile, Jameson looked after the cottage, feeding Baron and the cat, and phoning updates to them.
Enjoy your holidays at the spa, dont worry about the house, hed say. Everythings fine here, the cats well, and Barons on guard.
Emma would answer, Honestly, the best holiday is right here in our village. I cant wait to get back home.
And so Victor and Emma settled down together, rarely feeling the urge to travel far because their own fields offered the most stunning sunsets.
They loved wandering to the edge of the wood, watching the sun set peacefully, with Baron sprinting ahead, chasing the magpies perched along the road.
