Pitch Black: A Romantic Thriller (Blackwood Security Book 1) (12 page)

Wasn’t that the truth? Fourteen years ago I’d made an arbitrary decision to steal a wallet and ended up meeting my husband. Funny the hands that life could deal you, wasn’t it? I just hoped that Lower Foxford wouldn’t turn out to be a complete bust when it came to helping me back to normality.

The arrival of our food allowed me to change the subject to something other than me. “Have you lived round here for long?” I asked.

“My whole life. Mother and Tia still live in the house where I grew up.”

“Weren’t you lonely in such a small place?” I’d lived in London as a child, and while I didn’t have family, I had acquaintances.

“Not really. I had plenty of friends from school. Sometimes I thought it would be nice to have a brother to hang out with, but the stork never delivered.”

“You got Tia instead.” The booby prize.

“Yeah. She was a surprise to all of us. I worry about her.”

“In what way?”

“Mother’s got no interest in her. She thinks money buys love, and Tia doesn’t know anything else. I should spend more time with her, but things are…difficult.” He took the last bite of his meal. “You don’t need to hear all my personal shit.”

I took the hint and looked at my watch. “We should get back for Samara. Thanks for lunch—it was good to get away from my palace for a while.”

“Yeah, it was. Honestly, you’re not what I was expecting. I’m surprised someone like you is mucking out horse stables for a living.”

“Now who’s being judgmental?” I asked, thinking back to his earlier comment on women.

“Touché. It’s just I’ve met other women who’ve suffered through what you have, and they’ve all been bitter shrews. I guess it surprises me that you’re not.”

If only he knew the half of it. “As Victor Frankl said, it’s ‘the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.’” 

Before, I’d always been a fighter and nobody could bring me down. Somebody took me to my knees, but didn’t knock me out. I was slowly getting back to my feet. A bit of the old me had just made an appearance.

“Now that’s the attitude. And brings me back to my first point. It’s not often you find a stable girl who quotes Frankl.”

He held the door open for me, and outside, the wind had stepped up a gear to biting. I drew my jacket around me. It may have been quilted but it wasn’t windproof. That was another item to add to my shopping list when I next went into town.

“Cold?” Luke asked.

“Mmm hmm. I think I need a better jacket.”

“You want to borrow mine?”

“No, I’ve got one, and it’s too cold for you to be without. Thanks for the offer, though.”

“In that case, come here.”

I took a step closer, stiffening as Luke put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into him. While my husband hadn’t been affectionate, I’d limited contact like that to a few close friends.

But Luke wasn’t to know that. I didn’t want to create a scene, nor did I want to delve into my life history, so I forced myself to relax.

Besides, he did make a good windbreak.

As we strode into the car park at the vet’s, a young girl ahead of us was trying to load a pony into a trailer. Her father, dressed in an unsuitable suit, stood idly by.

“Will you just walk!” she cried, ending on a note of despair. When the pony refused to budge, she walloped it with a riding crop then burst into tears.

“Just give me a minute, would you?” I muttered to Luke.

The girl and pony were in a standoff when I gently removed the stick from her hand.

“That won’t help anything. Get me a bucket of food, and I’ll have a go.”

She hastily relinquished the reins, and over the next few minutes, I coaxed the beast up the ramp, one step at a time. A final shake of the bucket got it inside, and I tied it up before returning to Luke.

“Sorry about the delay,” I said. “I can’t stand anyone hitting an animal.”

He held up his phone. “No rest for the wicked. It’s good you cared enough to help.”

We had to wait a few minutes for the vet to come out, so I got myself a cup of terrible coffee from the vending machine while Luke made a phone call.

When the vet appeared, his expression didn’t give much away. “It’s her suspensory ligament, as I suspected. She needs a month of box rest.”

She wasn’t going to enjoy being confined to barracks. “What’s the long-term prognosis?”

“She should make a full recovery as long as you don’t try and rush her back into work.”

“I’ll make sure she gets as much time off as she needs,” said Luke.

I bandaged her legs up, and she walked straight into the horsebox. She seemed eager to get away from the vet, and I couldn’t blame her. Being a pincushion was no fun.

“That’s the best news we could have hoped for,” I said, as we drove back to Hazelwood Farm.

“I know. If you see Tia doing anything she isn’t supposed to with her, will you call me? I’ll deal with her.”

“Sure.” I didn’t tell him I’d stop her myself if she risked hurting Samara.

The horse was still dopey when I led her back to her stable at the farm. I made sure she had hay and plenty of water before I went back out to Luke.

“Thanks for today,” he said.

“It’s my job.”

“I guess.” He shifted from foot to foot.

“Don’t worry about the lorry. I’ll clean out the back. I’m sure you’ve got enough to do at the office.”

“Thanks.” He took a step forward and pulled me into a hug. I tentatively rested my hands on his back as he kissed the top of my head.

“See you soon,” he said, as he let go and walked back to his car.

I could still feel his arms around me as he left. Why so touchy-feely? Was it just his manner?

Normally my reputation preceded me, and men gave me a wide berth. It felt odd for him to presume I’d be okay with his affections.

Odd, but not unpleasant. I wasn’t sure what to make of that.

I bought a packet of decent coffee in case Luke turned up the following Saturday, but there was no sign of him.

Portia came by herself, dropped off by a polished-looking woman driving a Mercedes. Mrs. Halston-Cain, I imagined. Portia was subdued, so my ears got a break as she groomed Samara. I thought maybe she’d finally grown some compassion, but then I overheard her telling Arabella that Luke told her she had to come.

As I picked up a broom, I couldn’t help wishing Luke had come along. I told myself it was because of the sweeping, but the truth was I enjoyed his company. It was nice to talk to someone that had no preconceived notions of me. He treated me like a normal person.

I was just going back to the trailer for my lunch when the postman wandered onto the yard.

“Got a parcel for Ashlyn Hale. Know who she is?”

“That’s me.”

He got me to scribble my pretend signature on his electronic pad then handed the box over.

What was it? I hadn’t ordered anything.

Back home, an unexpected parcel would go straight to the lab for testing before I contemplated opening it, but here I didn’t have that luxury.

I used the old-fashioned method and shook it. It didn’t rattle.

After staring at it in my trailer for ten minutes, curiosity got the better of me and I slit the tape. It didn’t explode. That was a good start.

I slit open the cardboard box then peeled back a layer of tissue paper, and nestled inside was a top-of-the-range windproof jacket.

Luke.

Chapter 12

“I’VE GOT A headache,” said Hayley. It was 9 a.m. on Monday morning, and that was already the tenth time I’d heard it.

“Aspirin?” I suggested.

“Tried it.”

She was hung-over, as was Susie. They’d been out on the sauce the night before, and I’d heard them come home in the early hours. Their rendition of “Show me the way to Amarillo” as they walked up the driveway wasn’t going to win X-Factor.

“I need a fried breakfast,” said Hayley. “That always helps.”

“It’s worth a shot,” said Susie. “I’ll start cooking while you wash the buckets. We can catch up with work after we’ve eaten. You coming, Ash?”

“I don’t fancy fried stuff, but I wouldn’t say no to a couple of boiled eggs.” I’d been trying to eat healthily since I started my exercise routine, and I was less sluggish now I’d cut out the donuts and cream buns.

The pair were halfway through their platefuls of fried eggs, bread, tomatoes, hash browns and sausages when Hayley stopped, fork halfway to her mouth.

“We can’t eat all this!”

“Why not?” Susie asked, her mouth full.

“It’s the Hunt Ball this Saturday. I won’t fit into my dress. I was four pounds lighter when I bought it.”

Susie’s fork clattered to the table. “Oh dammit, you’re right! How could we have forgotten?”

Alcohol, that was how.

She shoved her plate away. “I won’t fit into mine either. I’ll have to buy a new one. Does yours have any stretch in it?”

“No,” Hayley wailed. “It’s made of silk. I got it at TK Maxx, and I’ll never find another one as nice. I’m going on a diet.”

Susie carried her plate to the bin and scraped the remains of her breakfast into it. “I’ll do salad for dinner.”

“Oh hell, I’m still hungry,” Hayley muttered. She picked up another forkful. “I’ll start my diet at lunch.”

“You both look fine as you are,” I said. “You don’t need to diet.” Although the salad wasn’t a bad idea. I should be eating more of that.

“You haven’t seen the dress yet—it shows everything. Are you coming to the ball?” asked Hayley.

“I didn’t even know there was a ball. So no.”

“You should go,” Susie said. “I can get you a ticket. Mother’s on the organising committee.”

“I’m not sure it’s my type of thing…”

In fact I was more than sure it wasn’t my type of thing. Based on the only Hunt Ball I’d attended before, I was well aware they were a euphemism for swimming in alcohol.

“You’ll love it!” said Hayley. “Everyone from round here goes. It’s the biggest event in the village all year. You might even meet a nice fella. You know what they say about getting back on the horse and all that.”

“Yeah,” said Susie. “You need to find a man who’ll ruin your lipstick this time and not your mascara.”

“I’m not looking to meet anybody at the moment.”

Or maybe ever, who knows? I still felt raw inside. My husband was the only man I wanted, and nobody else would ever measure up to his standards. So why did a picture of Luke pop into my head right then?

“You’re coming,” said Susie. “I’ll get you a ticket and lend you a dress. I’ve got hundreds—something will fit.”

“She’s not kidding about the dresses. Her closet’s bigger than the lounge in the cottage. I just wish we were the same size,” said Hayley.

While Hayley was a career groom who had been at the stables since she left school two years ago, Susie had a different motive for working there.

She was twenty-two, she’d told me over a glass of wine one evening, and had completed two years of a three year maths degree before concluding that she hated the subject.

“I walked out just before exams. I’d have failed them anyway, but Daddy was furious. He said if I didn’t go back to uni or get a job, he’d cut off my allowance.”

He wasn’t happy about her taking a menial job, but she’d done what he said, so he had to keep forking over the cash. That allowed her to satisfy her designer shoe habit and drive a BMW.

All that meant I knew Hayley was telling the truth about her outfits.

“Someone should stay and do the late check on the horses.”

“George’ll do it,” Hayley said. “He doesn’t mind occasionally. Please say you’ll come?”

Shit. The problem with having no social life was that I didn’t have any excuses either.

“Okay, I’ll come.”

If nothing else, it would get me out of the trailer for an evening, away from my thoughts and the microwave. Who knows? It might be interesting to meet more people from round here. People-watching was always entertaining, especially when everyone else was drunk.

A week of rain was made more miserable by Hayley’s mood. She’d started a fad diet she’d found in a magazine, and she could only eat raw vegetables, watermelon and chicken. She swore she’d lost weight, but the only difference I could see was in her level of grumpiness.