Quinn waited a moment for the blood to stop rushing in his ears. ‘Thank you for not crushing me to death, madam.’ He rubbed the mare’s head. ‘Curious as ever and bold as brass, aren’t you?’ She nickered at the sound of his voice. He smiled to himself . . . he could just as easily have been talking about Zoe. With a soothing whoa girl he pulled off his belt, looped it round Aisha’s neck and headed for the stable.
The mare seemed absurdly pleased to be with him, nudging his shoulder as they walked and nibbling his hat. She was lonely – that much was obvious – and he felt a sudden guilt. Horses were herd animals, social creatures. He hadn’t banished her to a solitary existence in order to be deliberately unkind. He’d done it to protect himself from the painful memories she evoked. Out of sight, out of mind. But the flesh-and-blood horse before him brought home how right Zoe had been. It was cruel to keep the young animal on her own. Selling her as a brood mare would be the kindest thing. But first he would test Zoe’s story.
Quinn had never seen Aisha being ridden. He didn’t want to know. According to Bridget, the mare was dangerous and out of control, and he’d never doubted her word; why would he? It suited him to believe it, gave him a reason to exclude the mare and keep Josh away from her. But now he was about to find out for himself.
Quinn tied Aisha to the hitching rail and went to the tack room. He looked around for her gear and frowned. The bridle on Aisha’s hook bore a savage-looking curb bit. Cobber’s would do instead. He grabbed a curry comb and brushed away the tell-tale sweat mark on her back, then saddled up. The mare stood like a rock as Quinn mounted and sat still for a minute or two, judging her mood. He might be an excellent rider, born in the saddle, but it didn’t pay to take anything for granted. Aisha seemed calm enough, yet it only took seconds for a horse to explode.
Touching his heels to her side, they set off through the cane fields towards the river. She tossed her head fretfully, fussing and chewing at the bit. He gave her a loose rein. As she stretched out her head and neck he felt the tension drain from her. Time for a change of pace. He closed his legs and Aisha launched into a contained but energetic trot. The sensation of controlled power beneath him felt good. He was enjoying himself.
The mare began to prance and throw her forelegs forwards in an exaggerated, high-stepping gait. Quinn stroked her gleaming neck. ‘That’s a fine imitation of a Spanish trot,’ he said with a smile. ‘Who said you’d never make a dressage horse?’ Whenever he shortened the reins, her movement became more and more extravagant, until she was bouncing into the air and shaking Quinn about. ‘Enough of that,’ he said. ‘If you’ve got all that energy, let’s go.’ He gave the mare her head, and she launched into a smooth, springy canter. They pounded out the back gate and along the river track until her neck grew damp with sweat and her sides were flecked with foam. ‘Have you got some bounce left in you?’ He aimed her at a fallen log. She jumped it so gracefully and with such little effort that he barely shifted in his seat. Next came the tumbledown stone wall. The mare seemed delighted to be presented with another obstacle. She cleared it with a bold flick of her heels.
‘Let’s not overdo it, girl.’ Aisha was breathing harder now. He reined her in with a gentle hand, and turned her head for home. What a horse. What a simply marvellous horse. How could he have left her to languish in the paddock all this time? She was energetic and high-spirited, certainly. But dangerous? Not by a long shot. He had no doubt that Zoe had managed the mare by herself in the safety of the manège. She’d been telling the truth about that at least. Who was he kidding? She’d been telling the truth about a lot more than that. Josh, for instance, and the importance of his powerful love for the beautiful mare. And what about Bridget? It did seem strange that she’d had so much trouble with the horse. Was Zoe right about her too?
Time to be straight with himself. The years away had changed Bridget. He hadn’t noticed during her brief visits home. She’d seemed like the same lovely woman, committed to building a future together. But since her permanent return to Kiawa, the cracks were showing, and the divide between them widened each day. Although their relationship appeared strong from the outside, some important things were missing: communication, genuine intimacy, fun. Bridget didn’t seem to notice or, if she did, she didn’t say.
The two of them barely spent proper time together, just snatches here and there, enough to keep up appearances. And when they did go out for dinner, or drive into Bundaberg for a movie, all she could talk about were her grand ideas to expand the Reef Centre. Visitor numbers had grown, yet the place still wasn’t living up to her expectations. Bridget wasn’t content to let it go along as it had in the past, ticking over, breaking even. She had ambitious business plans, and was aching to impress Leo with her commercial acumen.
Bloody Leo. A serial philanderer whose marriage collapsed when his wife could no longer put up with his infidelities. A ruthless legal team and deep pockets saw him retain custody of his three little girls. Their mother died in a car crash soon after and Leo was all they had. Right from the start, he’d cast his daughters into some sort of sick competition to see who could make him the proudest. For some reason, although Bridget was the one living in Kiawa and supporting her father’s political ambitions, she always seemed to come last in his estimations.
And even for a man as old-fashioned as Quinn, it seemed strange that Bridget lived at Cliffhaven. They needed time together to mend the yawning rift between them. It was a lonely life, rattling around the grand old house with only his brother for company. If you could call it company. Josh operated on a different plane. When he wasn’t down at the Reef Centre with Bridget, he was locked away playing online games, laughing and talking to invisible computer nerds from around the world. Quinn called them his ‘ghosts’, and indeed it was disconcerting, hearing those disembodied voices come through the door of Josh’s room. Quinn often asked Bridget to move in, but it seemed her devotion to Leo was greater than her need for him.
And now Leo was sniffing around Zoe, luring her with his cars and yachts and luxury beachside estate. A sudden, unexpected surge of jealousy left him breathless. No, it wasn’t jealousy, of course it wasn’t. In spite of all her faults, Zoe was a good person and his guest. It was only natural for him to look out for her. That’s all it was. There was probably nothing to worry about. Leo was twice Zoe’s age and she was a smart girl – too smart to fall for his tricks.
Quinn rode on, one hand on the reins and the other relaxed at his hip. What about Zoe’s claim that Bridget was being dishonest, using his brother for her own ends, needing his help with the dolphins? It had been her idea to keep him at home. Josh had wanted to enrol in his old school at the start of the year. His psychologist had been cautiously encouraging, providing there was proper support available. Such a big decision, and Quinn had been torn, in two minds. Bridget had tipped the scales. She didn’t believe Josh was ready for mainstream schooling and Quinn trusted her judgement where his brother was concerned. Bridget always had Josh’s best interests at heart, didn’t she? He had to believe it. One of the few things that would move him to real anger would be somebody taking advantage of his brother.
Thud . . . Ow. One moment he’d been pondering this disturbing question, and the next he was sitting on the ground, unharmed but red-faced. Captain had appeared from nowhere, dashing from a clump of flowering lilly pilly at the edge of the track, provoking Aisha into one enormous buck that Quinn had not been ready for. Right now the mare was fleeing along the river, with the dog barking at her heels. ‘Oi!’ bellowed Quinn. To his immense surprise both animals stopped and turned at the sound of his voice. Captain came racing back. Aisha stood, keen-eyed, watching. Nostrils flared, and that magnificent black banner of a tail kinked so high it fanned out over her back.
Quinn summed up the situation. Worth a try. He called the mare’s name. Aisha gave a loud snort and sprang into action, for all the world like a horse from a movie. She returned to him at a cadenced, floating trot. He stroked her satin n
ose with its heart-shaped star. ‘Well, madam, you’ve certainly taught me not to take you for granted.’
Quinn remounted, walking the mare the rest of the way home without further incident. He didn’t blame her for the buck. He blamed himself. A rider should always be paying attention: to the weather, the surroundings, the mood of his horse. Aisha was young, green and unpredictable, but there was no dirt in her, he knew that now.
Thanks to Zoe. He had absolutely no idea what to think about that woman, how to handle her. On one hand she’d done him a big favour, opened his eyes. He was grateful for that. But she’d also been dishonest, and all that wild talk about Bridget? The more he thought of it, the more disloyal it seemed. Zoe had a friend and supporter in Bridget. Accusing her of some sort of hidden agenda was a damn poor way of repaying her. She was right about his brother being too dependent though, following Bridget around like a puppy. From now on Josh would stay home and help Quinn around the farm instead. He finally had a currency to motivate the kid – time with the horses. It would make a big difference. And he had Zoe to thank for that as well.
Quinn was waiting in the kitchen that evening when Bridget and Josh arrived home. ‘We just made it here ahead of the storm.’ Bridget put down her bag. ‘How’ve you been?’ She bustled to the refrigerator without waiting for his answer. ‘Did you talk to Zoe?’
Quinn shut the fridge door and took her gently by the shoulders. ‘I’ve got dinner sorted.’
‘You have?’
‘The casserole’s in the oven. Now . . . come talk to me.’ Thunder rumbled nearby.
‘I’ll make some rice.’
‘Already done.’
‘Josh might want a snack,’ she said.
‘Then he can get it himself.’
He took Bridget’s hand, led her to the verandah and sat her down. ‘Would you like a cold drink? Beer, lemonade?’
She wiped her forehead, looking puzzled. ‘Lemonade.’ He fetched two glasses with ice and sat down beside her. ‘Is this about Zoe? I know you’re upset, but don’t ask me to fire her. She’s worth her weight in gold at work.’
‘No, it’s nothing like that.’ He took a sip of his drink. ‘I don’t want Josh going to the Reef Centre each day any more. It’s time he started working with me here at home.’
‘You already tried that,’ she said. ‘Josh isn’t capable of any real responsibility. It will end in tears like last time, I guarantee it.’
‘Maybe so.’ He studied Bridget’s face. ‘But I’ll take that risk.’
‘Josh is very fond of the dolphins, especially Mirrhi. He’ll miss them terribly.’
‘He can see them on weekends,’ said Quinn. ‘I’m doing this partly for you. Think how much work you’ll get done when you don’t have to babysit my brother.’
‘I don’t mind,’ she said. ‘I love him, you know that.’
‘And he loves you too, but my mind’s made up.’
For a fleeting moment there was something akin to desperation in her eyes. ‘Is this about punishing Josh? I don’t think that’s fair. Zoe’s the one —’
‘It’s not about punishing anybody.’
Bridget stood up, her normal composure slipping. ‘Josh doesn’t exactly do as he’s told, especially where you’re concerned. How will you get him to cooperate?’
‘Simple. I’ll bribe him.’
‘What with?’
‘With the horses . . . with Aisha.’
‘What’s Aisha got to do with this? I thought you couldn’t stand the sight of her?’
‘Will you please sit?’ Bridget looked so flustered he feared she might walk away. ‘Please?’ She sat back down. ‘I rode Aisha myself today,’ he said. ‘She’s high-spirited and green, but she’s not dangerous, Bridge.’ He reached for her hand again but she moved it away. ‘I’ll work with the horse myself, help Josh train her. Only groundwork, of course. He won’t ride her.’
For a moment Bridget looked ready to argue. He almost wished she would. ‘That’s great,’ she said at last, her voice a monotone. ‘Turning Aisha out like that must have been just what she needed.’
‘Maybe.’
‘So you’re not angry with Zoe?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘But I’m also grateful. She encouraged me to let Josh get back to what he loves, made me see my mistake.’
‘As opposed to me, you mean?’ She rose to leave.
‘Don’t be like that, Bridge.’ He scrubbed a hand over his face, rubbed his eyes. ‘What’s happening to us? We can’t even talk anymore.’
Bridget turned back to him. ‘Of course we can talk.’ She sat down and touched his arm. ‘Quinn, I had no idea you felt like this.’
‘How else should I feel?’ Her mouth opened, then closed again. ‘You’re not here, even when you are here.’ The words tumbled from him. ‘It’s like we’re living separate lives. By the time the wedding rolls around, we won’t know each other at all.’
For a moment her expression was unreadable, then it softened. ‘You’re right,’ she said. He hadn’t known what to expect, denial maybe . . . anger. Bridget moved her chair a little closer to his. ‘Shall I move in here, at Swallowdale?’ He was too surprised to answer. ‘I know I said I’d wait until the wedding, but . . .’
‘You want to move in?’ He swallowed. ‘Now?’ Bridget nodded. He should be happy. Ever since her return to Kiawa, he’d been impatient for their life together to begin. Why then did he hesitate?
Bridget searched his face. A shadow of concern passed over her eyes. ‘If you don’t want me . . .’
‘No, no . . .’ he said. ‘How often have I asked you?’
She smiled. ‘Only a dozen times.’
‘Maybe it’s what we need, Bridge.’ He said it, but didn’t feel it. ‘To reconnect, make us strong again.’ Quinn kissed her quickly and let her go.
‘This calls for something more than lemonade.’ Bridget disappeared inside and returned with champagne flutes and a bottle of sparkling wine. Quinn eased out the cork, and it emerged with a soft plop. Bridget poured two glasses. ‘A toast – to us!’
‘To us.’ They clinked glasses. Things would be better between them when Bridget moved in to Swallowdale, of course they would be. Why then did he feel more lonely than before?
CHAPTER 20
Zoe parked the car, reached over and hauled her overnight bag from the back seat. She would stay at the shack again tonight. She’d had enough of life at Swallowdale. Two weeks had passed since things went so horribly wrong, and she’d not spoken to Quinn since. He hadn’t approached her, and she couldn’t muster up the courage to go to him. It would be tempting fate. So she had no idea where things stood between them.
No, that wasn’t right. She knew she wasn’t Quinn’s favourite person right now. Zoe thought about their last conversation, about how forthright she’d been, and winced. It could be worse. Bridget hadn’t fired her, and was as friendly as ever, almost as if nothing had happened. But Zoe detected a subtle coolness that hadn’t been there before. And that wasn’t the only change. Josh no longer spent each day at the Reef Centre and she was dying to know why. Some kind of punishment, probably. Banned from his much-loved dolphins, or perhaps from her own bad influence.
As a consequence, the Dancing Dolphins show was rapidly going downhill. Bridget had managed for the first few days, but she didn’t have the same sympathetic connection that Josh did with the dolphins. Nor did she understand the importance of timely, consistent reinforcement when they did what she wanted. Bridget missed cues, overlooked errors and randomly handed out fishy rewards whether the dolphins behaved or not.
It only took a week for the spinners to stop spinning. When Bridget blew the whistle they no longer performed their dramatic aerial twists. Instead they rushed about, jumping and splashing, receiving fish for a graceful leap here or energetic tail-slap there. It was as if Bridget had no understanding of how to shape specific behaviours. No wonder she couldn’t train Aisha. Hard to believe, considering her impeccable academic and resea
rch qualifications in mammalian intelligence.
Had Bridget really thought she’d forever get away with pretending the training was all her own work? To give her credit, she’d done a good job of faking it so far. People’s preconceptions had helped enormously. Nobody could imagine that Josh, the not-quite-right boy, had anything useful to contribute. Even Karen had been fooled, and Zoe enjoyed watching the truth gradually dawn on her. ‘All this time I thought Lady Muck was some kind of saint, putting up with that kid. Letting him have the run of the place, even after closing. I admired her for it.’ Karen snorted. ‘More fool me.’
Josh’s solo evening training sessions made sense now. Bridget’s idea, no doubt. And it explained why she didn’t want anybody staying at the shack, with its wide views over Dolphin Harbour. And why that car never turned up. Making Zoe rely on others to get to and from the centre stopped her from nosing around too much. No wonder her boss wasn’t happy when Leo lent her the Lexus.
Well, the charade was over and Bridget had come well and truly unstuck. Watching her disastrous efforts to work with the dolphins, Zoe almost felt sorry for her. Baby had become so confused he withdrew from the show completely, waiting a safe distance offshore until his mother Koko finished her muddled routine. One time Kane leaped straight for Bridget, causing her to drop her bucket of fish. He scoffed the lot, and lunged more belligerently the next time. Bridget rewarded him with another fish. She really had no clue. The worst thing you could do with a dominant dolphin was to try to appease him. It only served to make him more aggressive and Zoe became even more frightened of Kane.
Karen tried to step in when she realised what was happening. Although more competent than Bridget, she still let the animals get away with sloppy performances. Neither of them had Josh’s gift for the task, his hunches, his split- second-timing, his intuitive ability to get into the animals’ heads. Most of the audience members were none the wiser. They seemed happy just to see dolphins up close, doing anything at all. But the animals were growing more and more out of control and the punters were bound to notice eventually.
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