“Jake said that the horses were fine,” Summer continued.
Mo stared at her blankly.
“Evening stables?” Her friend prompted. She looked worried. “Are you sure you’re OK?”
“Sorry, Sums. I was miles away thinking about the next competition,” improvised Mo swiftly. Lord, she was turning into such a fibber lately. She ought to make an appointment to see Jules about it or, fornication aside, she’d be going straight to hell. Anyway, she really should be thinking about the upcoming one-day event; it was the first intermediate outing for her horse Splash, who was often brilliant but could be tricky depending on what mood he was in. Much as she adored him, Mo was in two minds about whether to press on with him or sell him. Eventers sold rides on all the time because different horses clicked with different riders – what worked for William Fox-Pitt might not perform well for Mark Todd – but Mo hated giving up on a horse. It felt like such a failure.
Humans, though? Well, they were another issue entirely. Those she had always been able to take or leave. Or, at least, she had until lately. Recent events seemed to have changed everything and now Mo’s whole world felt as though it was on its head. While Summer poured them more wine, Mo took a deep breath and did her best to banish the memory of those dark eyes, that determined mouth and that mocking, white-toothed smile.
Something strange was happening to her and Mo didn’t like it one bit. She just hoped that, whatever it was, she’d be over it soon.
Chapter 11
Thursday afternoon was brooding and thundery and sultry. The sky, bruised with swollen purple clouds, seemed to hang heavy over the navy blue sea, and trickles of sickly lemon sunlight turned the grass of Mo’s schooling paddock to acid green. Without the calling gulls, all seeking shelter out on the cliffs, there was an eerie silence. Even here at the top of the hill there was hardly a breath of wind. Bees still droned in amongst the wild flowers, but somehow they looked out of sorts and almost too fat to fly with their plump furry bodies and tiny wings. Still confined to his stable, Mr Dandy pulled listlessly at his hay net, while in the paddock the other horses stamped their feet at the flies and swished their tails irritably.
Everything looked slightly wrong and felt a little off-centre – which suited Mo just fine, since this was exactly how she was feeling. A headache was beating at her temples and after a long torturous morning teaching ham-fisted teenagers she was feeling a bit frayed around the edges. The only light at the end of today’s tunnel was that she planned to spend time with Ashley’s new horses later. They had arrived a few days ago and settled in beautifully. Mo had shed a few tears into The Bandmaster’s mane when she’d unloaded him, and quite a few more when Ashley’s schoolmaster had planted a soup-plate hoof on her foot, but to see Bandy cantering gleefully around the paddock and calling to all his old friends had been worth a few crushed toes. Even the extra mucking out and grooming didn’t matter.
Ashley’s horses might have arrived at Polwenna Equestrian but of their master there was still absolutely no sign. So much for that afternoon being special. There hadn’t even been a text message from Ashley, and the silence was driving Mo crazy. Although she was telling herself that she only wanted to hear from him as an owner in order to give him a professional update on his horses’ progress, deep down Mo knew that she wasn’t being totally honest with herself. She’d never been this bothered about keeping in touch with Ella St Milton when Ella had owned The Bandmaster. In fact, Mo had been known to put her phone on silent in the hope of avoiding Ella’s constant barrage of calls. It was not so with Bandy’s latest owner, though, and when her brother Nick had asked whether she’d developed some kind of nervous twitch, Mo had been forced to stop herself from checking her mobile every few minutes.
And she wasn’t going to check it again. No way!
Yet despite this resolution, Mo’s hand slid into her pocket and closed around her phone. She snatched it away furiously. Enough was enough! This was getting ridiculous! To distract herself she decided to school Splash over the course in her jumping paddock. The young horse had been going very nicely lately and Mo was quietly confident that he would do well at the weekend. One good win was all she needed, Mo reminded herself as she led Splash in from the paddock in order to tack him up for some practice. If she could just attract a bit of interest from some of the local sponsors then surely somebody would be willing to give her a chance? Now that she had The Bandmaster again, a horse with the potential to reach advanced level if ever there was one, she was surely several steps closer to making it as an eventer?
Having tied Splash up in the yard, fetched her grooming kit and then returned to him, Mo did her best to focus on flicking the dried mud from his coat. No, she wasn’t going to dwell on the uncomfortable thought that she only had Bandy thanks to Ashley. He’d bought the horse for her to ride. Why had he done that if she’d just been a quick bit of fun to pass a quiet afternoon or merely another conquest, the next Polwenna Bay acquisition that he simply couldn’t resist? Even as she fastened Splash’s tendon boots, Mo was struggling to find plausible solutions to these questions. The only answer she could come up with, and this was the one that scared her the most, was that maybe Ashley was serious about her. But if he was serious, why the radio silence? That just didn’t make sense. Mo was a heart-on-her-sleeve kind of person and she found it almost impossible to play the games that she’d seen her friends and siblings play in their relationships. It all looked like far too much work to her. If you liked someone then surely you liked them and, if you were lucky, they liked you back?
As she lugged Splash’s tack across the yard, Mo reflected that life had been so much easier when she’d just detested Ashley. Everyone had known where they’d stood then and life had been, if not exactly simple, at least pretty much black and white. All this sneaking into her thoughts where he had absolutely no right to be was driving her crazy.
“Afternoon, Red.”
Mo’s heart almost leapt out of her chest at this drawled greeting. She’d been so engrossed in her thoughts as she was tacking up that she’d failed to notice none other than Ashley Carstairs himself, leaning against the gate like a figment of her imagination come to life.
“What are you doing here?” Mo blurted.
“Nice to see you too.” Unlatching the gate and letting himself in, Ashley grinned across the yard at her. “The last time I looked, I owned a couple of the horses here and I was sleeping with the owner.”
“Ssh! Don’t say that!” hissed Mo, glancing around the yard in horror as though Mr Dandy and Splash could understand every word.
Ashley just laughed. “It’s true though. I’ve not thought about much else since I left. How about you?”
“Hardly given it a second thought,” said Mo airily. “Apart from the horse part, obviously.”
“Obviously,” nodded Ashley. He was attempting to look serious but his twitching lips gave him away. Mo, trying very hard not to think about how those lips had felt when they’d traced fiery kisses along her collarbone and onto the soft skin of her breasts, busied herself tightening Splash’s girth. The truth was that she didn’t trust herself to look at Ashley. One glance into those dangerous eyes would be all it took for her to forget about the past fortnight of death-by-text-silence. In the bright stormy sunshine he was every bit as handsome as she remembered. He was wearing jeans and Timberland boots, and his green tee shirt showed off his strong muscles and the tanned skin that had looked so dark when pressed against her own white limbs. His hair was covered by a daft trendy beanie hat set at a jaunty angle, but his broad shoulders, narrow hips and assured stance made her feel wobbly. When he smiled, a big and genuine smile, Mo was glad she was leaning against her horse.
“So, how have you been?” he asked.
“Fine.” Mo focused all her attention on pulling down her stirrups. “I’ve been very busy actually. Somebody has brought two extra horses to my yard and not bothered to check on them. It’s been a fair bit of extra work for me. But then you
’d know all about being busy at work, I guess? You’ve been so flat out that you never even had the time to text and ask how the horses were.”
“Ah, I see. You felt I should have texted Bandy and Spirit but—” he grinned at her, “—maybe I was expecting my livery owner to text me and update me on my… horses? Perhaps I thought I would hear from her? I’m sure they’re amazing animals but I wasn’t aware that they could use mobile phones. Red, you have trained them well. Can they use Facebook too? Or even make a call?”
Mo’s cheeks grew warm. They both knew that they weren’t talking about the horses. The idea of her calling him had never even crossed her mind – and Mo, who considered herself a feminist and any man’s equal, felt suddenly very ashamed. Why on earth hadn’t it occurred to her to get in touch with Ashley? This wasn’t the 1950s.
“Chill, Red. Even if you had called to update me on my livery, you wouldn’t have been able to get hold of me,” Ashley told her. “There were no phones allowed where I went.”
“Where was that then? The Priory?” Mo shot back, more from force of habit than any real desire to spar.
A shadow flitted across his face. “I wish. Maybe they have a ten-step programme that could get me over you?”
“Or that could stop you playing Monopoly with pretty Cornish fishing villages?” she countered. “That would be good. We all know you’re after the church.”
He yawned. “Change the record. Believe me, if I wanted the church I’d have bought it long ago. What I want can’t be bought. Unfortunately.”
Mo’s mouth was dry. Was he saying that he wanted her? And if so, why did that thought make her stomach knot deliciously as though it was a hay net and he was tugging at the drawstring?
Ashley fastened the gate and crossed the yard to give Splash a pat, but as he raised his hand to caress the horse’s well-muscled neck Mo was shocked to see that the back of his right hand was bruised. She frowned. Save the odd Saturday night watching Casualty with Granny Alice, Mo was no expert on medical matters, but to her this looked as though his hand had been cannulated. Suddenly she would have given anything to snatch back her sharp jibe.
Had he been in hospital?
“Don’t look so worried. It’s nothing,” he said, catching her look. “I just had a few tests and some vitamin shots but, like I said, there’s a no-phones policy. I guess it’s a private hospital thing, you know?”
Mo, who was more likely to fly to Mars than ever see the inside of a private hospital, didn’t have a clue – but she did know when somebody wasn’t being straight with her. What on earth was he hiding?
“So, about my horses?” he said slowly. “When can we discuss them?”
Hot sun. Hard earth beneath her back. His weight pressed into her…
Mo pushed the memories aside. “I’m just going to school Splash for twenty minutes, then I’ll tell you all about the horses and we can sort out when you want to start riding. Maybe even today if you like?”
Ashley’s gaze slipped away. “There’s no hurry for that.”
“There bloody well is,” said Mo. “I can’t exercise another two on my own. There aren’t enough hours in the day.”
“So I’ll get you some help.”
She stared at him. “You’d rather pay for a groom than ride your own horse?”
“Like you, I can’t do it all.”
“But you’ve got two amazing horses here.” Mo didn’t understand what she was hearing. It made no sense. “What’s the point of having them if you don’t ride? I thought that was the whole point of buying Spirit?” She stared at him, looking for some clue as to what he was thinking, but his handsome face was shuttered.
“Maybe I got a bit carried away? Like I told you, you can ride them. If it’s a question of money I’ll pay you.”
Mo shook her head. “I’m not a charity case, Ashley. I can just about get my head around having The Bandmaster and riding him for you as a sponsor, but Spirit is just going to cost you money.”
Ashley shrugged. “Money I’ve got lots of. Time – not so much. For now, you ride them both, OK, and I’ll see about sorting out some extra help for you. No,” he added when she started to protest, “this isn’t up for debate. If I want a top horse and a top rider then I know it won’t come cheap – and you can’t waste time on stable chores when you should be riding and competing. That’s the bottom line. If you want to compete The Bandmaster at a serious level then you need to listen to me on this. I’m your sponsor and that means I call the shots. Understand?”
Mo shut her mouth. Although her independent streak was up in protest, the pragmatic part of her knew that he was absolutely right: she was spreading herself too thin. Fox-Pitt and Zara Phillips and all the other top riders had grooms to help them, after all. But, then again, they probably didn’t spend long summer afternoons making love to their sponsors in wheat fields…
“I’ll think it over,” she said eventually.
“And find that the answer is yes,” said Ashley firmly. He glanced over at the paddock where Mo’s course of four-foot-six fences was waiting. “Now, why don’t you go and school for a bit? Then once you’re done we can talk about the details.”
The way he said talk made her shiver because his eyes said something very different. Splash, sensing the electricity that crackled between them, began to snort and paw the ground. Sparks flew from his metal-tipped hooves and fat raindrops started to fall. Glancing across to the cliff top, Mo saw lightning slice through the purple clouds. If she wanted to school then she’d better get on with it before the storm came in.
“OK, we’ll talk,” she agreed grudgingly. “But it’s not a done deal.”
“Oh yes it is, Red. Now be careful over those jumps,” Ashley ordered as she swung up into the saddle and gathered her reins. “I’m not sure I’m a fan of you risking your neck for a living, Mo. Life is precious.”
Mo pulled a face. “That kind of soft attitude won’t get you around Badminton.”
“No,” she thought she heard Ashley say softly as she nudged Splash into a walk and headed to the paddock, “but it will keep you alive.”
Chapter 12
Ashley Carstairs was in big trouble.
He’d never, ever felt about anyone the way that he felt about Morwenna Tremaine. He no longer cared if this was down to his illness or not; from the second he’d left the village until his return only forty minutes ago, she’d been all he could think about. The past fortnight had been utter torture, not because of the tests and the grim faces of his doctors (although it was fair to say that these things hadn’t exactly been a bundle of laughs), but because every second away from Morwenna Tremaine had felt like wasted time – and time was something that Ashley knew could be in very short supply.
As he watched Mo ride away from him on half a tonne of snorting, prancing horse, Ashley’s heart was slamming against his ribs. She looked so tiny and so fragile perched up there. He couldn’t imagine how he’d feel watching her hurtle cross-country on The Bandmaster. Christ, maybe that hadn’t been his smartest move, buying Mo the means to risk her white and totally kissable neck over huge fixed fences? Ashley was alarmed to realise that he wanted nothing quite so much as to keep Mo safe, to wrap his arms around her and to hold her close. He wanted to press his face against her soft hair and breathe in the very essence of her, and he wanted to make love to her again and again and again. He never wanted to let her go.
The difficulty was that in reality Mo Tremaine was about as cuddly as a cactus and, judging by the taut expression on her face and the hurt he’d seen in those heart-stopping blue eyes, Ashley had a bad feeling that he’d ballsed things up pretty spectacularly by not contacting her. He’d thought it best to give her space to figure things out and realise just how good they could be together, but he could see now that this might have been a severe error of judgement. Women didn’t view having space in quite the same way as men, did they? They interpreted it as being ignored or, even worse, being seen as a mistake.
F
or a smart guy, Ashley told himself despairingly, you certainly know how to cock things up. Would Mo believe him if he told her that he’d not stopped thinking about her for a single second? Even when he’d been having tests and listening to his consultant deliver the bleakest scenario, Ashley had been holding thoughts of Mo close to his heart like a talisman. Her energy and her unbroken spirit filled him with hope, if not for the future then at least for what time he may have left.
I should have called her, he reflected as he leaned against the paddock fence and watched Mo – her deliciously full bottom lip between her teeth – cantering the huge horse around with absolute concentration. I should tell her how I feel. She shouldn’t be in any doubt at all, because he certainly wasn’t. For the first time in his adult life Ashley knew exactly how he felt about a woman. Perhaps it was a side effect of the tumour pressing on his brain, but if that was the case then he didn’t care. If a tumour could make him feel like this then at least there was some sort of blessing to accompany its curse.
Ashley knew that he was completely and utterly in love with Morwenna Tremaine. He wasn’t sure how or why it had happened, given that she was spiky and independent and argumentative and the opposite of the pliant glamorous types he usually went for, but he adored her and that was that. He loved her sharp tongue, her clever mind and her determination just as much as he loved her soft lips, lithe sexy body and mane of damson and auburn tangles. No woman he’d ever known had wound her way into his heart and soul the way that Morwenna Tremaine had. If he was honest with himself, and honesty was something that Ashley was trying hard to work on these days, he’d been smitten from the moment he’d first encountered her at a PAG meeting. And that time when she’d stood up to him in the pub had only strengthened his desire. With her blue eyes glittering with anger and her curls tossing furiously, Ashley hadn’t heard a word she’d said. All he’d been able to think about was how much he wanted to grab the sexy little spitfire, drag her into bed and make love to her until she couldn’t argue anymore.
A Time for Living: Polwenna Bay 2 Page 11
