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‘You sure you don’t want to ride with me?’
He resisted the urge to make a quip and shook his head. ‘I’ve never ridden before, and today’s not the day for me to start. I’m here for you.’
‘Okay.’ She swung herself up into the saddle.
Fuck me, she’s hot.
‘Did you say something?’
Was that out loud? He glanced up and shrugged. ‘Don’t think so?’
Her eyes narrowed.
‘So, do I get a head start?’
She frowned. ‘Huh?’
‘Surely it’s only fair, as I’m on foot. Or do you prefer to shoot at a standing target from close range?’
A snort of laughter escaped. ‘Unfortunately, I need you.’
‘You do?’
‘For the festival!’ Pulling on one side of Duke’s reins, she walked him out of the yard. ‘However, come July, I’m sending the Foxbrooke Hunt after you.’
He smirked. ‘And where will you be? Leading the pack?’
She shrugged. ‘Maybe. Or waiting at the end with a shotgun to finish you off.’
‘Can’t wait.’
Estelle led him around the back of the livery into the open countryside. The sleety rain that had battered Somerset over the last few days had moved on and cool sunlight shone through the barren trees, creating long, spindly shadows on the ground. It was still winter, but the solstice had passed and it seemed that spring was not far away.
James wanted to talk to Estelle, but she was riding a few feet ahead. So, he followed her up a hill, through a gate, to another large expanse of land. This area was flat, with targets attached to straw bales in a line covering the length of the field. Estelle whistled to the dogs, and they ran to a bale set up behind where she would be shooting from.
‘You, too,’ she said to him.
Doing as he was told, he watched as Duke trotted to the start of the course.
Dropping the reins, Estelle took the bow and notched an arrow into place.
His heart beat faster.
She let out a cry and Duke took off.
Holy shit. For some reason, James thought the horse would be trotting, but Duke was thundering across the ground at a gallop. Estelle’s thighs were the only things keeping her upright, and they were also serving as shock absorbers to keep her upper body completely still.
He watched, transfixed, as Estelle let an arrow fly. It thudded straight into the first target. She took another arrow and shot again. And again. Because she couldn’t see him, he allowed the joy he felt in his heart to spread out into a smile, whooping when she finished the run.
Chester and Joy bounded forward at full tilt to retrieve the arrows on the ground, and James followed, pulling the ones from the bales.
Estelle trotted up to him, her face flushed and alive. ‘Thanks.’
‘That was amazing!’
The flush in her cheeks intensified.
‘How many runs do you normally do in a session?’
