A/N – Wow, I was gone long, huh? I'm back into my HM obsessive stage so expect more chapters to be following. Summer break = WIN. Again, read and review, you lazy ass. XD


I didn't know how much I adored the smell of sweat, manure and stables. I'd happily choose that over the stale smell of urine, dampness and old folks.

Gill had been dragging me to parent and child bonding classes for the past few weeks. Too much tension remained in the house and we both agreed – yes, it is a miracle – that it had to leave. The classes were set in a back room of the Clinic, and first time parents usually dwelled there. Roy was older than the other kids – by about 3 years – but he still found enjoyment in teasing them. I found it quite funny, whereas Gill found it downright preposterous.

Tonight we were scheduled for another weekly class, and I was sincerely thinking about camping out in the stables to avoid it. Roy was even becoming tired of the repetitive workshops – who the hell wouldn't? There's only so much bonding one can take.

The whole thing was a cheap excuse for Gill to spend some time with me. The following weeks had been pleasant as Gill had been holed up in his office and I'd been free in the fields. Slowly, the little man was stealing my free hours away from me. Damnit.

At least he was busy attending a small meeting today.

The wooden spoon grazed the palm of my hand as I stirred the lumpy batter routinely. I'd spent a fair amount of cash on the damned thing, and in return I earned a sore hand. Nice. In between the sound of the mixture lapping against the sides of the bowl, I overheard a deep rumbling voice. It was continuous, only stopping for a short second before it began again. Pulling the curtains back sheepishly, the rolling voice of thunder graced me. Luckily the bustling, merry sound of the Inn would keep the sound far away from Roy tonight. Sadly, the quietness of the house only echoed it back. Lightning wasn't far away, and she'd soon be illuminating the skies. My best bet was to cover the crops and then pick up Gill before she began her show.

Bracing the harshest shoulder of the wind and sweeping rain, I hastily threw a tarpaulin sheet over the crops. Stamping the ties into the soggy ground was a bad idea, considering sandals were the only thing I'd been wearing. Thank you, oh Goddess, for giving me the power of forgetfulness.

Inside the barn, the animals were restless. Several sheep cluttered into one corner whilst the stallions neighed endlessly. The nearest one – a handsome chestnut fellow who was old enough to have braced thunderstorms before – was calm enough for me to saddle up, and before long the thunderous sound of hooves against stone echoed throughout.

The lights of the passing buildings shone into the street, taunting me with their warm glow. Gill was perched under the grand tree beside the town hall, shivering constantly.

"Need a lift?" I snickered, though the sound of thunder drowned it out.

"Yes, actually." Gill stepped forward though it took him a few minutes of searching for the stirrup until he was perched behind me.

"Hold on, cowboy." I announced. "We're in for a stormy ride."

-Parents in Training-

The rain bounced from the ground, not content on staying put. The thunder still rolled on, a dark mass of clouds hovering above us. At some point Gill had wrapped his arms around my waist and I hadn't the slightest clue about whether or not that was his excuse for beginning the reconciling process or if it was simply due to fear. We were humble and silent and the only sound was that of Mother Nature's uproar. Our clothes were plastered onto us like a second skin and it seemed like a fortnight had passed before we reached home. The warm, musty smell of the stable was inviting to our chilled skin and dripping clothing.

"Well, how was your meeting?" The question was only my attempt at starting a conversation as Gill waited patiently for me to unsaddle the horse.

"It went well even though it was the usual drab paperwork." Gill was rummaging through his satchel madly. "I did manage to pick this up for you."

Like the letter I'd received those past months ago that alerted me to the plea of my orphaned godson, the forms for a larger area of land were printed neatly onto thick, cream card. They told the location, the precise size of the land and how fertile it was, but most importantly it told of the price. I winced.

"You bought this? For me?" I was officially stunned.

"Well, you alerted me to the small problem of not owning enough land for your animals and, being a farmer, you need animals to help with your income. I'm a Mayor in waiting though, Ang, so it was straight forward and painless to my bank account."

Even though I'd rode through the hellish rain for him, even though I'd painfully put a smile on my angry demeanour for the last few weeks and even though he was painfully flashy, I could do nothing but gaze at him and smile.