Gabriel set out in the morning early, his few possessions packed in his bag. The sun rose, warming the chill air, lighting up the fields with a golden light. He tried to tell himself that he was glad that he was leaving, but he could not. He felt sad. He thought about Bathsheba, her headstrong rebelliousness and wondered who would temper her impetuous actions now. Not Boldwood, he would let Bathsheba do whatever she desired, he was so in love with her. The farm would not prosper without him, he was sure of it, but he could no longer stand by and say nothing.

After several hours, he sat beneath a tree to eat his lunch, feeling the heat of the day settle around him like a cloak. In the distance, he heard the bleating of sheep and he thought about his flock, back at the farm. It was hard to let go, to start again, but he felt determined. He wouldn't let Bathsheba stand in his way. Not this time.

He heard horse's hooves, then suddenly Bathsheba appeared on horseback. She dismounted when she saw him, looking hot and flushed.

"Gabriel, I need your help."

He was stunned, but so incredibly glad to see her. He felt his heart leap in his chest as she stood before him in the blue dress that he liked so much.

"Please don't desert me Gabriel."

"Desert you? You are the one who told me to go."

"Yes, I know, but I need you. The sheep are in trouble and you are the only one who can save them."

He got to his feet, enjoying the moment, the feeling of power he had over her. In a rush, she told him about the sheep, how they got through the fence into a neighbouring field and ate the some of the crops.

"Please Gabriel, if you do not come back, I fear that they will die."

Slowly Gabriel put his hat back on his head and picked up his bag. He took the bridle of the horse from her and climbed up onto the horse. She looked up at him expectantly. He held out his hand. She paused for a moment, then took it and he pulled her up. As the horse walked back to the path, he felt her hands gently on his sides like timid butterflies and he knew that as soon as he pushed the horse to canter, she would not be able to stay on.

"Put your arms around me," he instructed.

Bathsheba moved her hands around him and he felt her body against him, closer still. He urged the horse on, digging his heels into her flanks. The motion caused Bathsheba to lean against him, her head against his back, her arms clinging tightly around his waist. The countryside sped by, all those miles he had walked that morning, single-mindedly putting the past behind him. Is that all it took, for Bathsheba to stand before him and beg him to return? She hadn't even apologised. But he savoured the moment, the jolting friction between their bodies, the pressure of her arms around him. He let himself believe for a moment that she was his, that she was surrendering at last and that they were riding back to the farm where she would let him lift her down from the horse and kiss her the way he had wanted to from the first moment he had set eyes on her.

But it was not to be. After the frantic hours in the fields, surrounded by sick and dying animals it was all Gabriel could do but sit with her, watching the flock that he'd saved. It was dusk, the lamp at her side casting a pool of light, making her skin glow. She looked at him, her brown eyes full of gratitude. He knew that it was accepted that he would stay and despite everything he knew that he would endure it, because Just to see her every day, to speak with her, would be enough. His love for her was like a constant pain, an ache that never went away.