A Family Forever by Helen Scott Taylor Page B

Not that he didn't spend plenty of time with him already, but travelling together for work was not the same as having fun.
    Adam gazed at the weeds sprouting through the gravel of the circular drive and the overgrown garden in dire need of cutting back. The house wasn't in a much better state, the paint peeling and timbers rotting. He looked forward to getting this project underway, seeing the building renovated and converted into luxury apartments, and then erecting the homes he planned to build on the ten acres of gardens.
    "Which way, Dad?"
    Harry focused the camera on him and snapped a few pictures. Adam pulled a stupid face, making his son giggle.
    "Let's try down there." He pointed at a path that disappeared between the burgeoning shrubs. He'd only visited the place once before making his offer to purchase, but he'd pored over the plans and diagrams of the site for months. He knew the boundaries, paths, and the layout of the house itself by heart.
    Birds chirruped in the bushes and flew up from the undergrowth as the two of them made their way along the path. They occasionally stomped on fallen branches or pushed aside creepers so they could get through.
    Harry bent and snapped some pictures of the ground.
    "I'm not sure there's much of a market for photos of dirt, pal," Adam observed with a wry grin.
    "It's not just dirt. See the animal footprints here. Do you know what made them, Dad?"
    Adam bent beside his son and stared at the prints. He hadn't the faintest idea. Wild animals were not really his thing. He knew a good racehorse when he saw one and could appreciate a pedigree dog, but that was about it. "Might be a dog, I guess."
    "Whose dog would be in here?" Harry frowned.
    "Good point." Then Adam had a sudden inspiration. "I bet it’s a fox. They're related to dogs, aren't they?"
    "Yeah. I bet you're right." Harry shot some more photos from various angles. Adam watched, inordinately pleased with himself for coming up with a credible answer. Maybe he wasn't such a dunce when it came to wildlife after all.
    They wandered on, pausing often for Harry to photograph leaves, flowers, birds, interesting twigs, and numerous other things. Adam rarely walked in the countryside, he normally only saw it from inside a moving vehicle. But this afternoon he enjoyed the fragrance of the flowers and plants and the sun-warmed earth. Even the sound of the birds and the wind in the leaves relaxed him.
    The tension that rode his shoulders most of the time eased, and he wondered if his doctor had a point when she told him to take more time off and wind down.
    They reached the southern boundary fence and some black and white cows stared at them over the wire, mooing while Harry photographed them. Despite his relaxed mood, Adam couldn't stop his brain mentally charting where the new houses would be erected. He had a blueprint in his head with each plot marked out.
    The properties were to be individual, architect-designed homes with decent-sized gardens. He would have made more money by clearing the whole plot, demolishing the Victorian manor house, and cramming in as many small homes as possible. But that wasn't his thing. He was known for quality developments aimed at the top of the market. He still turned a tidy profit without compromising his principles.
    He followed Harry around a corner and halted abruptly at the unexpected sight of a young girl in a pink tutu. She was twirling in circles, arms arched above her head like a ballerina.
    "Who's that, Dad?"
    "I don't know." But he intended to find out. It wouldn't surprise him if the local kids from the village trespassed on the property, especially as it had been empty for a while.
    He'd had problems with site security at other developments. If kids played in the garden here, it didn't matter much right now, but once the building work started the area would become dangerous.

Chapter Two
    The girl stared at them wide-eyed with obvious surprise as they approached. She was a pretty little