.
horse.
What had he said to Ginnie? All my horses are her horses.
There was soft rope by the gate; rope that could be looped as makeshift reins.
At twelve there wasn’t a horse she couldn’t ride. She’d helped her father break them. He’d taught her well.
She hadn’t been on a horse since.
Oh, he was beautiful.
She slipped down from the rail and he started nudging her toward the gate.
She giggled and he shoved her in the chest. Hard. Like, hurry up, there’s a world out there. Let’s go.
Let’s go …
They might find Luke. He had to be somewhere. On this horse she could go anywhere.
Not since she was twelve …
‘Don’t you dare throw me,’ she told the nose shoving her toward the gate. ‘My pride’s at stake.’
Luke spent four hours with Tom. Thirty satisfactory fence posts later he decided he needed to check on his guest.
He swung himself up back onto Checkers, his favourite horse, elderly, big, black and docile, with the gorgeous white blaze that had given him his name. He needed to head back to the house and make some lunch. He’d take Lily for a gentle stroll over the more accessible places on the farm.
Or not. For suddenly he saw her, over the ridge, cantering down along the track toward them. And she was riding … Glenfiddich.
His breath caught in his throat. Glenfiddich was a half-broken yearling, as spirited as his namesake. Lily was riding him without a saddle, with the halter he always wore but no bridle or reins. She was using rope as reins.
The last time Luke had ridden Glenfiddich it had taken him an hour to settle him; to make him trustworthy. But here was Lily, her canter turning to gallop.
Was she crazy?
Even as the question hit, he was flying. Checkers was almost an extension of himself. He touched his flanks and his big horse flew toward Glenfiddich, veering at the last moment so Luke could grasp his halter. Glenfiddich tried to rear—of course he did—but Luke had him in a grip of iron. He swung off Checkers so he could take full control.
Glenfiddich objected—and so did Lily. ‘What are you doing with my horse?’ Even though Glenfiddich had reared back she hadn’t shifted on his back.
‘He’s not your horse,’ he said through gritted teeth. He was fighting Lily for the rope-cum-reins. ‘Give me the reins and get off. Tom,’ he yelled to his uncle. ‘Come and lift Lily off.’
‘Does Lily want to be lifted off?’ Tom asked mildly, strolling up to meet them and raising his battered hat to Lily. ‘Seems to me she’s got a pretty good seat. Pleased to meet you.’
‘Get off the horse,’ Luke snapped.
‘So … you didn’t mean what you said about me being free to ride whatever horse I liked?’
‘He’s not trained.’ When he thought of what could have happened … a slip of a girl on a half-trained gelding … he felt sick.
‘And I’ve forgotten my training as well,’ Lily said happily. ‘So we suit.’
‘Get down!’ His anger reverberated through the bush.
Lily stared at him in dismay and then slid expertly from Glenfiddich’s back.
‘I haven’t hurt him.’
‘You’re lucky he didn’t kill you.’
‘I know horses.’
‘Not this one. Of all the stupid, risk-taking behaviour … You’re just like those kids, rollerblading over tallow.’
‘You don’t think you might just be overreacting?’ she ventured.
‘I didn’t give you permission.’ He had both horses in hand now, keeping them well clear of Lily. Glenfiddich was objecting but Luke was in no mood to let him show it.
‘I believe you told Ginnie I rode every horse here,’ Lily said, sounding angry herself now. ‘I ate breakfast as your note said, but there were no instructions after breakfast. I inspected the creek, the home paddock, the horses close by, and then I thought I’d like to go further. Glendiddich asked me to ride him, so we’ve been exploring and here we are.’ She smiled at Tom and carefully ignored Luke’s fury. ‘You must be Luke’s Uncle Tom. I’ve very happy to meet you.’
Glenfiddich asked me to ride him …
He tried to take it in. This morning Glenfiddich had seemed to take his decision to ride Checkers as a personal insult. He’d kicked out as they’d left the paddock, and it was only because Checkers was an old and wise horse that there had been no damage.
To see Lily flying along the track toward him, bareback …
Gorgeous didn’t begin to describe her, and fear didn’t begin to describe how he’d felt.
‘You’re out of your mind, riding a strange horse,’ he snapped.
‘He’s not a strange horse. We introduced ourselves before we got familiar.’ She tilted her chin defiantly. ‘Not like you and me.’
It almost defused his anger. A lesser man would have blushed. He almost did.
‘Let the girl back up,’ Tom said from behind them. ‘She looks a picture on horseback.’
‘I’ll find you a quiet mare,’ Luke snapped.
‘Or a tractor?’ Lily said, suddenly teasing. ‘Tractors are safe but they’re not nearly as much fun.’
‘You’re not here to have fun.’
Her smile died. ‘Of course I’m not. I’d forgotten. Sorry.’
‘Lunch,’ he said, tugging the horses round to face the house.
‘I guess we’re not riding, then.’
‘No. I’ll find you a safe horse after lunch.’
Her smile died completely. ‘It’s okay. I guess I don’t need to ride. I should have learned that a long time ago. Tom, are you joining us for lunch?’
Tom shook his head, but amazingly he looked almost tempted. ‘No, but let the girl back on,’ he told Luke.
‘And have her break her neck? In your dreams. I’ve had one woman die on me; there’ll not be another.’
‘Hey,’ Lily said, startled. ‘I’m not your woman.’
‘Of course you’re not,’ he said shortly, and he led two horses along the track to the house without saying another word.
Luke worked with Tom again in the afternoon and Lily wandered the farm alone. She dropped by to chat—to Tom. She offered to help and when Luke said she should be resting she seemed rebuffed.
‘She’s a decent woman,’ Tom said, eyeing Luke sideways. ‘Good seat on her, too. Find her a horse.’
Luke had quiet horses but Lily’s reaction had been blunt. ‘I don’t ride,’ she’d said flatly. ‘Forget it.’
He’d hurt her but he couldn’t help it. He wasn’t about to let her risk her neck.
But he did feel bad—and he had a foal she needed to see. Toward sunset, as Tom headed off to feed his cattle, Luke joined Lily on his veranda.
‘I’m sorry I snapped,’ he told her. ‘I don’t like people taking risks.’
‘I wasn’t taking risks,’ she said mildly. ‘But apology accepted.’
‘I have something I need to show you.’
She