Country Rivals

by Zara Stoneley

  Some bloody tycoon from Kitterly Heath showing off, was his first thought as he watched, expecting it to veer off. But it kept on its course.

  Black Gold started to trot, a long floating stride that she rarely produced under saddle, and the other horses, following the herd instinct, fell in behind her. As the drone got louder they broke into a canter, circling the field.

  It was almost overhead now. Throwing a dark beetle shadow on the ground that chased the fleeing horses, an undulating swirl of air building to a harsh sound that splintered the morning stillness.

  Gold threw her head up and sent out a shrill whinny of panic as her canter turned to a gallop. She dropped her head, ears flattened, nostril flared as she powered on. Her only thought was to flee from the monster, and the rest of the herd went with her, jostling for the lead.

  Rory’s throat tightened as he stood helpless, his fingertips grating against the rough wood of the fence. The drum of hoof beats reverberated through the dry ground, and his normally slow heart beat responded, picking up pace. They had to slow down soon, had to.

  He could see the flare of Gold’s nostrils, smell the fear and sweat of the herd as they bolted, mindless to everything and everybody, only escape on their minds.

  But they’d stop any second, realise that the threat was passing.

  They were at the electric fence now, the first two cleared it. Rory winced as a youngster went through it, snapping the white tape. The ribbon flew upwards, floating, spiralling, caught in the breeze created by the helicopter, whirling, grabbing out at the horses that followed. They veered to left and right, half-rearing to avoid colliding, some ploughing on blindly.

  The front-runners reached the post and rail fence, the large bay was over, pecking as he landed, struggling to regain his feet, the next took it cleanly. The third horse was a youngster, green and unaccustomed to jumps, white circles of panic around its dark eyes, flared nostrils red. It crashed on blindly, desperate to escape, cutting across in front of Gold.

  ‘Christ.’

  The young gelding barely paused, carried along by the herd, his heart pounding. He hardly lifted his feet as the fence loomed close – it was outside his field of vision now. He powered on. The full force of his chest crashed into the top rail at one end as momentum carried him forward.

  For a moment time seemed to stand still. Rory froze, aware of the sounds that didn’t stop. Distorted, fragmented. The smack of flesh against timber. The harsh crack of splintering wood as the rail dislodged, the drum of thundering hooves.

  Then time caught up, the young horse crashed through, the rail tore loose, lifted. It spun around an invisible axis, becoming a wooden spear that hung in the air for an instant in time. The same instant that Gold took off, launching her powerful body forward towards freedom.

  It was too late for her to see danger, too late for her to turn away, much too late to stop her flight.

  Rory watched, horrified, unable to look away. She took her final leap, her chest swallowing the impact of the wooden rail as her body rose from the ground. There was a scream, an answering whinny from another horse. His own shout echoed in his ears. The other horse landed, galloped on, a blur of colour as other horses sped past, but all he could see was the black mare.

  Black Gold pitched forward as she landed. Staggered, her feet scrabbling to find the ground. She lurched to her knees. Fell to her side with a thud that shook Rory back to life.

  ‘Shit.’

  Rory hadn’t heard Tab coming, her footsteps masked by the pounding of hooves and the echoing thwup of the helicopter blades.

  ‘No, no.’ Tab was already climbing over the gate.

  ‘No.’ Rory caught her shirt, dragged her down. ‘Go and ring the vet, and for Christ’s sake don’t let Lottie see.’ He clambered over the gate, sprinted over towards the mare, between the horses that had already slowed to a trot as the sound of the helicopter faded.

  Rory knew the moment he reached her that there was nothing he could do, nothing anybody could do. Her dark body was a shadow on the grass, her legs forward, as though in motion. But she wasn’t going to move again. A slick of darkening blood clung to the blade of grass that surrounded her, the stillness of death hung in the air.

  ‘Don’t, Lottie no.’ Tab’s yell split the silence.

  He should have known that Tab wouldn’t be able to stop her.

  ‘Let me see.’

  He tried to stop her, to block the sight. ‘No. You don’t need to, no.’ He was pulling her against his chest, trying to hold her head against him, but Lottie fought her way out.

  The tight band across his chest grew as she stood, staring, her hand still on his arm, where she’d pushed him away. He should say something. His throat wouldn’t let him. He swallowed, feeling his mouth twist, the burning heat of tears behind his eyes. ‘Lottie.’

  ‘Gold.’ With a wail she sank down to her knees at the mare’s head. Looked at the soft dark eyes that were staring ahead lifelessly into a future they couldn’t see.

  Rory was dimly aware of Tab at his side, rocking, her dark hair damp with the tears that ran down her face, plastered like damp seaweed against her cheeks. ‘Mike is coming, he was over at Dom’s.’ The tremble in her voice spread to her body, the cry of anguish muffled as she clamped her hands over her mouth then started to run away from the scene, back towards the gate and the safety of the stables.

  Seeing the state of Tab and her garbled account of events, Mike, the vet, knew the equipment he had would be useless. He grabbed the nearest rug and jogged across the paddock to where Lottie was hunched over her horse, the beautiful proud head cradled in her lap. Rory crouched down behind, his arms wrapped around her protectively.

  ‘It would have been instant.’ He draped the rug gently over the lifeless body, hiding the horrific cause of death. ‘She wouldn’t have felt a thing, Lottie. I’m ninety-nine per cent sure. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘What the hell—’ at the sound of Xander’s voice, they all looked up. ‘Jamie came and got me.’

  ‘It’s your fault. All of this,’ Rory stood up, ‘you and him.’ He waved wildly towards the set, where Seb’s helicopter had landed like a giant cockroach on the green lawns. It was taking off again now, rising slowly, veering off away from the yard and fields. Its job done.

  Rory took a swing and Xander dodged. ‘Fight, you bastard.’ He threw another punch.

  ‘Hey.’ It was Mike, bigger than Rory, who stepped between them. ‘Not now. Rory, don’t.’

  ‘I’m going to kill Seb. You can tell him that. What the fuck does he think he’s doing? Nobody said he could land a helicopter here. And once I’ve sorted him out you can all get the hell out of here.’

  Xander didn’t say anything. He looked from Rory over to the horse lying on the ground, to Lottie, who was as pale as the horse was dark. ‘Shit, I am so sorry. Christ. Really. Is there nothing …’ He took a step towards her.

  ‘Don’t you dare touch her.’

  ‘Rory?’ The vet put out a hand to stop him. ‘Leave it. Look after your wife and I’ll check that Tab is okay.’

  ‘I’ll go.’ Xander’s voice was soft as he glanced from Rory to Lottie, then back at the vet.

  ‘Fuck off, the lot of you.’

  Xander didn’t. He was standing next to one of the stables, stroking his horse in the eerily quiet yard, when Rory returned. ‘Look, I don’t want to interfere.’

  ‘Then don’t.’ Rory brushed past him, not trusting himself to say more.

  It was as though the horses that had been stabled all morning knew that something terrible had happened. Even the dogs were silent, lying in the shade of the tack room, their ears flat to their heads as they listened and watched every move. Harry wagged his tail feebly, crept forward on his stomach, and whined as Rory approached, then at the harsh words slunk back to join the other dogs. ‘What the fuck are you doing sneaking round here anyway? I should have flattened you while I had the chance.’

  ‘Hit me if it makes you feel better. B
ut I’m not the enemy.’

  ‘Well I bloody know who is.’

  Xander put a steadying hand on his arm. ‘Just don’t go rushing in, Rory. Think, mate, use your head.’

  Rory pulled away angrily. ‘Don’t fucking mate me. Who the hell do you think you are? I’m going to kill him. It was him, wasn’t it? Seb? He swans around here shouting out orders and acting like he owns the bloody place, well, he’s gone too far this time.’

  ‘It was him, but he didn’t think.’

  ‘He never fucking thinks.’ Rory folded his arms, his feet wide in a fighting stance and glowered at the other man.

  ‘Look I’m not defending him here, but what good will it do? I’m just saying give it an hour or so, then talk to him.’

  ‘Did you see what he’s done?’ The anger inside Rory was building, fear and hate rocketing around the hard lump in his chest.

  He’d lost horses before. He’d seen horrific falls during cross-country events, broken legs and the threat of the humane killer – he’d seen horses sweating, fear in their eyes as colic twisted their guts, and he’d seen old age take many a friend. But he’d never lost an animal in this totally pointless way, in a completely avoidable accident that should never have happened.

  ‘Did you see that animal out there?’ He waved an arm in anger. ‘That lousy git never asked permission to come flying in, did he? Did you know he was about to pull a stunt like that?’

  ‘No, I didn’t. And I doubt he asked anybody. Look, Rory, I know how you feel, though, and if there’s anything—’

  ‘How can you possibly know?’ They both turned at the small voice. Lottie stood a few feet away, her pale face tear-streaked and dirt smeared where she’d rubbed it with hands dirty from the mare’s coat. Long strands of her hair damp and tangled.

  With a yelp Harry crawled over to meet her, sat on her feet, and squirmed up so he could lean against her legs, begging for comfort.

  ‘Oh, Lots, why aren’t you in the house with Tab? I told you I’d come the second I could.’ Rory’s arms were around her. ‘Come on.’

  ‘I want to know how he thinks he can possibly understand.’ She swayed as she stared at Xander.

  ‘I told you I lost that horse last year,’ his voice was flat, ‘and that’s why I don’t play now.’

  ‘That was different. Gold was in a field, she was scared to death, hounded so that—’ Lottie gulped, bit down on her lip to stop it wobbling, to try and stem the tears.

  ‘It is different, and you’re right, mine wasn’t hounded.’ Xander didn’t look away. ‘I as good as rode it to its death. He was hit hard by a ball because I put him in the wrong place, and then we kept on playing and he collapsed under me. I’m sorry, I know it doesn’t make this any better.’

  Lottie shivered, despite the sun, despite the warmth of Rory’s arms around her, and the spaniel pressing against her legs.

  ‘She didn’t stand a chance. She wasn’t competing, she was in a bloody field, supposed to be eating grass.’ Her voice rose on each syllable until it reached a strangled peak and died on a sob. ‘She was supposed to be having fun.’

  ‘I know.’ Xander looked from Lottie to Rory and then back at his horse. ‘I’m sorry. I know it’s different. I’m not competing here. But I do understand. Believe me, I blamed myself.’

  ‘Well I don’t blame myself, I blame Seb.’ There was a harsh edge to Rory’s voice that Xander hadn’t heard before.

  ‘I do.’ With a sob Lottie turned and pressed herself against Rory, burying her face in his chest. ‘I blame myself. It’s all my fault they’re here.’

  ‘It’s not.’ Rory stroked her hair and wondered where the hell they went from here. ‘Shush, it’s not your fault. Nobody knew he’d pull a stunt like that. But it’s ending here.’

  ‘You can’t stop it now.’ Xander’s shook his head. ‘You’d be mad.’

  ‘Watch me. It’s taking over our lives, and I’ve had enough of it. I’m sick of seeing the bloody newspaper reports, sick of watching everybody run around as extras, sick of running the gauntlet of reporters with their bloody cameras every time I ride off the estate, and sick of being accused of ruining the village.’

  ‘Don’t rush into this, please. Just think about it, Rory.’

  ‘What do you care? You’re one of them – Pandora’s darling brother. How much did she pay you to come over and talk me out of flattening him?’

  ‘Nothing. They don’t know a thing about this. I’m not saying don’t tell him—’

  ‘You’re damn right you’re not.’

  ‘And feel free to smack him if it makes you feel better. Nobody’s going to stand in your way on that one. But think, man, what will it do to you? There’ll be a cancellation fee on the contract – he’s bound to have a clause in there. And how do you keep this place going, without their money?’

  ‘Why are you really here, Xander?’ Lottie’s words were soft, but unmistakable. ‘What do you care?’

  ‘I like you both. I admire you. I always have and you deserve to keep this place going. Don’t make it hard for yourselves. Believe me, I’ve been there, done that, and it didn’t help at all.’ He gave a humourless laugh.

  ‘I don’t mean that.’ Lottie brushed her sleeve across her face. ‘Why did you come back to Tippermere?’

  ‘She’s family, Lottie, and family counts for something.’

  ‘You are kidding, aren’t you?’

  ‘Okay.’ He took a deep breath. ‘That’s only part of it. Like I said before, I’d have done something stupid if I’d been left to my own devices and she knew it. I’m under no illusions she was trying to save me, but she knew I wasn’t so daft or self-absorbed that I’d ignore a lifeline. Don’t ask me why she came back here, because I honestly don’t know or care. Face it though, you need the money, don’t you? Just think about it, please, both of you, use your heads.’

  ‘Rory’s got a new sponsor.’

  ‘And is that enough?’

  ‘No.’ Rory’s tone was flat, defeated. ‘He’s right.’ He wiped a tear from Lottie’s cheek with his thumb and his voice softened. ‘It’s nowhere near enough.’

  ‘But we’ll get the insurance money soon – we can re-launch the business.’ It was a wail that tugged at his heart.

  ‘We will, but not soon enough, Lottie.’

  ‘What the fuck is going on here? Where’s Jamie?’ Seb’s strident tone rang across the yard and Xander froze.

  ‘Shit.’ He put a hand out to grab Rory, but it was too late.

  Rory had the soft cotton fabric of Seb’s shirt twisted into his fist before he was even really aware he’d raised a hand. Was staring into the lizard-cold eyes that were only inches from his face. He wanted to hit him, hit him so hard he’d feel the pain they just had, let him taste the sweet-iron tang of his own blood like Gold had. But he couldn’t. Seb’s eyes had widened, his pupils dark with fear, his skin pale. Frustrated, Rory tightened his grip, his fist shaking.

  ‘Rory.’ Lottie’s warm hand was on his. He studied her nails, darkened with what could have been earth or blood.

  ‘Fuck.’ He let go, then raised his fist. He could hit him.

  ‘No. I want to show him.’

  Seb glanced between them, then looked to Xander for reassurance. Xander glanced down. This wasn’t his decision, he couldn’t make this call, couldn’t assume he had any right to comment now he’d said his piece.

  ‘You can’t, Lottie. I’m not letting you—’

  ‘As far as the gate.’ The words wavered, but Rory knew she wouldn’t back down. She was going to do this if it killed her. ‘He’s got to see, I want him to know what he’s …’

  Lottie stopped when they got to the gate, but Rory didn’t. He might not be able to beat the man to a pulp, but he wanted him to … what? Suffer, be shocked? He didn’t know.

  He pushed him forward and Seb stumbled on the rutted earth, then strode on without comment until he was yards from the body.

  ‘Lift the rug.’

  Seb look
ed blankly at Rory and didn’t move, but Xander did. Wordlessly he lifted the corner, then dropped it again.

  ‘But I—’

  Seb looked genuinely confused, and shocked.

  ‘The helicopter.’ Xander’s voice was soft. ‘You caused a stampede.’

  ‘The fucking helicopter, Seb. Nobody said you could land it here, did they? Didn’t you think to ask, you moron?’ The words caught in Rory’s throat, came out harsh and stilted.

  He looked from Rory to Xander, then down at the horse’s body and shuddered. ‘I didn’t think …’

  ‘I should kill you.’

  Seb took a step back, half-raised an arm in defence, but Xander knew that the initial anger had seeped from Rory. He wasn’t going to kill anybody.

  ‘Have you seen what you’ve done to my wife?’ Rory grabbed hold of his shirt, dragged him back towards the gate, and probably for the first time in his life, Seb didn’t object to being manhandled.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Sorry, you’re fucking sorry.’ Rory laughed. ‘He’s sorry.’ He did swing for him then. It took them all unawares, even Rory himself. He’d thought he couldn’t hit him after all, but that pathetic ‘sorry’ had flipped a switch. He felt helpless in the face of Lottie’s distress, didn’t know what he could do except hold her. He didn’t know how to put things right again. He was frustrated. So he hit him.

  They left him there, standing just inside the gate. Swaying, wordless. His hand on his throbbing cheek.

  ‘You shouldn’t have hit him.’ Lottie’s voice was small, almost lost.

  Rory shrugged and put his arm around her shoulders as they walked back into the yard, then steered her towards the bench. ‘I needed to.’ He rubbed a hand over his knuckles and was glad it wasn’t something he often felt the urge to do. It hurt, and his stomach was churning. Probably from the whole thing – the anger, the pain, the sadness, the massive feeling of helplessness. Or he was getting old.

  ‘We will be okay,’ he said it as much to convince himself as her, ‘we will get the money we need and this whole nightmare will soon be over. But for now, it’s time we did this on our terms, darling, or not at all. I’ll go and talk to him properly tomorrow when I’ve calmed down.’