by Fiona Walker
It hadn’t quite been the heroic rescue he’d envisaged during those last lung-burning, mind-racing yards of sprinting to the lake. Kat had saved herself long before he could be of use. But the incident had taught Dougie two things: first, that Harvey still relished being ridden and was remarkably healthy – the two had galloped the length of Lush Bottom faster than Pegasus, both burping cake all the way – and, second, that he cared enough about Kat Mason to risk life and limb for her. His own safety was something he gambled on a regular basis, but risking Harvey meant that Kat had now got beneath his skin.
‘You can’t swim?’
She shook her head. ‘I’m a strong swimmer. Something happened when I was a kid that meant I took every life-saving and swimming award I could. I thought it would make it better.’
Kat’s parents hadn’t allowed her pets: the restrictions of army life in her early childhood had meant too many moves and unsuitable accommodation, and then, after the divorce, her mother blamed lack of money and time. But when they had settled in Watford, she’d been allowed to walk the neighbours’ small, cat-hating elderly Heinz 57 dog after school.
‘My friend and me used to take him along the canal towpath in Cassiobury Park.’ She drew her knees up to her chest, pulling the jumper over them and down to her ankles. ‘One day there was a barge going down in the lock that had a cat sun-bathing on the roof. I was busy talking and didn’t even see what happened, but he must have lunged at it because the next thing he was between the boat and the side of the lock, with all the water coming in through the lock gates, six feet below me. I jumped in after him, but he’d gone under the barge in the water swell and I couldn’t reach him, couldn’t stay under long enough. Then the boat moved against the side wall and trapped him down there. The people on board didn’t know what was going on until my friend raised the alarm, but it was too late by then. The dog had already drowned. It was my fault.’
‘Of course it wasn’t! You risked your life trying to save him. You were just a child.’
‘I started taking extra swimming classes afterwards. I even competed for my local club in open-water races and triathlon. I used to have a bit of a reputation at school for being fearless.’ She looked at the lake with a sad smile at the irony of it. ‘Give me an extreme sport and I’d try it. Dare me, and I’d do it. Adrenalin was my addiction, but water remained my enemy, however many times I took it on.’
‘And you’re still afraid of it now?’
She pressed her white-knuckled fists to her mouth. ‘It’s one of the reasons I came here.’
‘Funny place to escape from water.’ He followed her gaze across the lake. ‘You practically live on an island.’
‘I hadn’t realized Constance would set me up quite so royally with aversion therapy, once she found out why I’d left Nick and how screwed up I still was about it. She insisted I just needed to jump straight in,’ she remembered with a wry smile. ‘She was probably right. I’m still here, still trying. I swear Sri’s her ghost sometimes.’ She glanced across at the mare standing companionably with Harvey. ‘That move just now was pure Mytton.’
‘Nick was a boyfriend?’ he asked, already feeling illogically jealous.
She nodded. ‘We were engaged.’
‘What made you break it off?’
She shook her head. ‘It’s the past. I’ve buried it.’
‘Not if it makes you terrified of water.’
‘I’ll be better next time.’ She stared at the lake. ‘It was the shock, that’s all.’
But Dougie wouldn’t let it go. If whatever had happened had made her run here from Watford, it had to have been serious, and the bastard who was responsible deserved to suffer. ‘Did your fiancé hurt you?’
She didn’t answer.
‘My guess is he tried to drown you. Where was it? In a lake like this? Out at sea? At home in the bath?’
‘It was an accident,’ she said quickly.
‘Now you have to tell me.’
She turned to look at him, green eyes unblinking, realizing she’d fallen into a trap. She didn’t have to tell him, of course, but Dougie knew she would. She possessed that brand of honourable honesty in common with his closest allies.
‘We’d been at a boozy Sunday lunch in the pub with some friends.’ Her voice was flat and hurried, dispensing with any preamble. ‘They’d been badgering us to name the day, and Nick was all for it, joking that we were planning an extreme sports wedding. I’d known it wasn’t working out for months, but Nick was in total denial and just refused to listen. He’d become really overbearing and aggressive. I was frightened of him. That day he’d talked all over me yet again and I’d had enough. We’d had a lot to drink and it gave me the courage I needed. When we went to Cassiobury Park to walk off the wine, I told him I wanted to call off the engagement.
‘He tried to make out it was all a big joke, but I just kept repeating myself until it went in. It was only when I gave him the ring back that he knew I was completely serious. Then he got really mad, and accused me of trying to humiliate him. He was apoplectic. He made a big gesture of throwing the ring into the river before remembering it had cost almost as much as his car, so he waded in after it. We were by the reed beds, not far from the point where the river and canal merge near the lock where I’d jumped in after the dog as a child. Nick knew all about that, of course, and started shouting at me because I wasn’t helping him, goading me that I’d tried to save a drowning dog but not our relationship. He kept diving down to look for the ring. Then he disappeared right under and didn’t come up. When I swam out to save him, he pulled me under and held me there.’
‘That’s no accident.’
‘He was still very drunk. He wanted to frighten me but it went horribly wrong. I got caught up in the weeds, like here, and couldn’t get back up to the surface.’ Looking out across the little lake, she started to shiver again. ‘It’s not a deep river, but there are hidden hollows where the reeds can wrap round your legs in seconds. Nick tried to drag me back up, but I was completely trapped.
‘Two runners came to the rescue when he started yelling. I could see their legs and air bubbles everywhere. I had no breath or fight left. I must have blacked out under water. I thought I was going to die. The last thing I remember was spotting the bloody ring on the riverbed.’
‘Surely the police were involved.’
She shook her head. ‘Just medics. I needed CPR when they got me out. Nick was terrified I’d shout “attempted murder”. He was contrite afterwards. My lungs had taken a real battering. I had headaches and blackouts for weeks as well as a vicious cough. But the worst was the panic attacks. Nick refused to talk about what had happened, but it was all I could think about. I knew I had to get away from him, but I was frightened what he might try to do if I did. That was why I planned it so carefully. I came here, where I knew he couldn’t trace me. I can’t believe I’m telling you all this.’ She put her head into her hands. ‘I haven’t told my best friends.’
‘You told Constance,’ he reminded her, then his mouth fell open. ‘That’s why she left you Lake Farm, isn’t it? To keep you safe?’
She looked up at him through her fingers, a touch of a smile showing to either side. ‘She was amazing. She had a way of finding out one’s darkest secrets. There was other stuff Nick did, things that left far deeper scars and she —’
‘He hit you?’
‘Emotional scars.’ She took her fingers from her face, the smile fixed and defensive. ‘I’d rather not talk about it, but you’re right. Constance gave me a safe haven.’
‘What “other stuff”?’
‘It’s really not relevant to riding the Bolt.’
‘Everything’s relevant, Kat.’
When she still didn’t answer, he murmured, ‘Truth or dare?’
She snorted disparagingly. ‘Do I look sixteen and caned on vodka Red Bulls?’
Dougie could have kicked himself for his tactlessness. As soon as he’d said it, he knew it was wrong, howe
ver well intended. He’d wanted to wrap a comforting arm around her and hold her to his side while she confided more about what had led her here, but instead he’d back-slapped her with a juvenile challenge. And it was too late to retract now.
‘Forgive me. I’m not a particularly evolved life form, as you yourself have pointed out,’ he said easily. He’d slipped totally out of role again, but he found he had no desire to thrust a rose between his lips and try to tango his way back on course for his bonus. He just wanted to cheer her up.
‘That makes two of us.’ She rested her chin on her knees and squinted at him through the sun, her red hair almost dry now and tightly spiralled like bracken fronds. ‘Dare.’
He looked at her in surprise. Then he laughed, not giving her a chance to change her mind as he saw a chance for redemption. ‘Gallop again?’
‘Now?’
He nodded. ‘Haven’t you heard you must get straight back on after a fall?’
‘My breeches are still sopping wet.’
‘Ride without them.’
She looked at him suspiciously, but he kept the wolf’s smile from his face. ‘You’ll have to go bareback.’ He stood up to unsaddle the mare. ‘I’ll co-pilot.’
‘Your jeans are wringing wet too.’
Dougie unbuckled his belt and peeled them off. ‘If Red Indians can ride in loin cloths, we can do it in pants.’
‘You’d seriously do this?’ She looked astonished, particularly at the sight of his cockerel-patterned ‘Crown Joules’ jockey shorts, which he was grateful his polo shirt almost covered.
‘Christmas present from my father.’ He followed her gaze. ‘The ferret ones are worse.’
Moments later, the green eyes were wet with tears as she clutched her chest and went into rapturous giggles, laughing so much that it took him a while to grasp she was accepting the dare.
Aware that his move that hadn’t done much for his masterly, heartthrob status – although it had certainly cheered her up – Dougie jumped on to Sri’s patchwork back, then reached down to help Kat up behind him. ‘This will be seriously good for your core stability.’
Setting off at a steady canter to let her gain her balance, he knew that this was selfishly as much for his pleasure as her stability, but the laughter in his ear as they speeded up to full tilt was a magical reminder that it had a healing purpose, just as the warm, lean heat clinging to the length of his back connected him to the woman he had started to see in an entirely new light. Evenings with Kat were a misleading Happy Hour cocktail that had promised high kicks and a huge cash bonus, but delivered conflict, chemistry and increasing respect. Today had made that mix a lot more potent, adding something Dougie’s emotional palate rarely tasted: the throat-burning, heart-speeding warmth of affection.
When he pulled up by the woods, the mare was barely blowing and Kat, still laughing, insisted, ‘I’m going round again!’
‘Sure.’ He got ready to urge the mare forward.
‘Wait!’ She reached forwards to stop him, chin on his shoulder as she took hold of the reins, her warm breath making his skin dance. Turning his face towards hers, seeing her eyes as bright as spearmint amid the smile-widened freckles, his mouth started moving instinctively towards hers long before his brain registered how badly he wanted to kiss her.
She turned her head away to look across the meadow. ‘Will you get off?’
‘Of course. Sorry,’ he said awkwardly, as he gathered the reins. ‘Let’s go.’
‘I meant get off the horse, Dougie.’ She laughed. ‘I’m going round again.’
Realising she wanted to gallop solo, he had to resist an even greater urge to kiss her.
He jumped off and watched her streak around the field, laughter and pride fusing together in his chest and forcing an unfamiliar lump into his throat. It might have taken a dare that went wrong and a truth still only half told, but she’d gone from barely trusting the mare to galloping bareback in the space of an evening.
Kat Mason was a revelation. She had incredible guts and faith, and her curious beauty grew on Dougie every day: the big smile that revealed her furnace-like warmth but hid her vulnerability, those watchful green eyes and that extraordinary mane of hair he couldn’t wait to see spilling across naked freckled skin and white Egyptian-cotton pillows. Somewhere along the line a keystone of her self-belief had been stolen from her. He wanted to be the one to restore it, and to find out the truth. Next time he tried to kiss her, he vowed she’d want it just as much. And he wouldn’t be sitting on horseback wearing cockerel pants.
As midsummer’s evening finally set into dusk, Kat rode back towards the woodland track with Dougie walking alongside, dogs at their heels and Harvey at his side. A hare power-sprinted along the avenue of trees ahead of them, silhouette coming and going as it crossed the stained-glass arches of sunset light between the black trunks.
Dougie turned to watch Kat ride, those luscious freckled legs demure in breeches once again, although her still-damp boots hung on her saddle rings from their garter straps and her bare feet dangled out of the stirrups. She was the only female Dougie knew, apart from his young nieces, who hadn’t had a painted pedicure, yet she had the neatest, pinkest nails he’d ever seen, like little shells. He had a sudden image of lifting them to his lips in the big claw-footed bath in his bedroom and watching the laughter and lust on her face.
‘Tell me the truth about you and Russ Hedges,’ he asked suddenly.
She didn’t look at him. ‘If I remember the truth or dare game right, it’s my call now.’
‘I always cheat.’
She was staring at the mare’s ears, one as red as the other was white. Looking at them, they reminded Dougie of the flags to either side of the point-to-point jumps he’d kicked towards when he was first trying to impress a girl in a ridiculous deer costume whom he’d thought was a pain in the arse, especially when hers was on fire.
She pulled up Sri to turn and look down at him, the last red sun streaks stabbing through the trees behind her like an approaching lynch mob with torch batteries running low. Her voice was so rushed and quiet, he could hardly hear. ‘He helped me through a very tough time.’
‘Has he healed the emotional scars?’
She missed a beat, glancing away. ‘Not quite.’
‘So you’re not about to take the plunge with Badger Man?’
‘Unfortunate turn of phrase.’ Kat smiled that big, crazy, heart-lifting smile that Dougie had yet to learn to read. It was a smile that short-circuited his thoughts every time, putting his foot, heart and bravado straight into his mouth.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said honestly. ‘But I want to push the hairy bastard straight into the lake and take you to bed for a week. Trust me, you wouldn’t be able to walk afterwards.’
As she looked down at him, green gaze blistered with pain, he saw to his horror that the smile went nowhere near her eyes. She kicked Sri on and rode home without another word.
‘Still going well?’ Dollar asked Dougie when she called later.
‘Swimmingly,’ he said flatly.
‘Good. You have one month before Seth will be entertaining an important guest at Eardisford. I will remind you that we would like the Lake Farm situation resolved by then. The estate must provide total privacy for the best sport.’
‘I need more time.’ He thought uncomfortably of his most recent conversation with Kat.
Dollar clearly thought he was referring to the sport. ‘You will be required to ensure all traditional means of game hunting are available.’
‘It’s hardly the right season,’ Dougie pointed out reluctantly, surprised by how jumpy he felt at the prospect of his idyll being invaded by marauding businessmen eager to follow hounds. When it came to field sports, he was a purist who followed rules, and his team weren’t ready, the time of year unsuitable. The only Eardisford tradition he was really interested in right now was the Bolt and his desire to watch Kat do it, preferably followed by watching her climb into his bath to have her toes th
oroughly washed and sucked.
‘We’re aware that this is precipitant,’ Dollar’s voice droned on, ‘but this man is a very important guest and his entertainment is of paramount importance. Dair Armitage will make sure there is fishing and shooting available, and you will provide good quarry. And take care of the girl or we’ll need to use other means.’
Dougie had an unpleasant flashback to Dollar telling him that Kat could stay at Lake Farm until marriage or death.
‘What other means?’
But she had rung off.
‘I might as well quit,’ Kat told Dawn. ‘I’ll never get across that lake. Does your new landlord accept pets?’
‘I had to pay a whopping deposit to get my kitten past the letting agents, and he’s neutered and house-trained,’ Dawn said apologetically. ‘I can call the rescue centre near Watford bypass, if you like?’
