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“Hey, pretty lady.”
My belly fluttered at his voice. I turned in the saddle to face him, shielding my eyes from the glare of sunlight, and he looked nervous, too.
He was wearing a green checked shirt over jeans, a pair of old boots on his feet. His hair was messy and stylishly unstyled, his smile warm and bright. The nerves were all in his eyes.
“Hey, sexy boy.” I smiled.
“Not such a boy,” he said, and walked over. He ran a hand over Samson’s neck, gave him a pat. “Good ride?”
I nodded. “Saying my first goodbye to the woods. I hope it takes ages, I hope I get to say hundreds of goodbyes.”
“I hope so, too,” he said. “Final goodbyes suck like shit.” He gave Samson a mint. “Who’s a boy, Sammy?”
He walked at our side as we headed to the stable block, his arms waiting as I dismounted. He didn’t linger, just gave me a squeeze and fastened Samson’s head collar around his neck. I loosened Samson’s girth, took down his saddle, and Rick was already in action, filling up a bucket and sponging down his back as I took off his bridle. We didn’t speak, our eyes making fleeting contact as we carried on with horsey business, and the tickle in my belly was so strong it made me squirmy, shifting my weight from foot to foot as I brushed Samson down.
I fastened up his rug and Rick loosened the lead rope. He led Samson to the field and I walked at his side. I watched Rick’s face as he let Samson free, his eyes full of genuine affection for my furry boy. He pulled the gate closed and stood to watch Samson away, arms folded on the top bar. I stepped up alongside him, breathed in the country air.
“I’m so fucking sorry, Katie.” His voice was quieter than usual. “I’m sorry about the yard. It’s such a fucking shitter.” He paused. “I’m sorry about…” He sighed. “I’m sorry about everything.”
“Where’s Carl?” I said.
“Working.” He sighed again, then he looked at me. “No, he’s not working. He’s at home. I asked him not to come.”
Tickly belly. Tickly everything.
I tried to find words. “Are you… um… is it what you both want?”
“A baby?” He looked back at the field. “Yeah, it’s what we both want. Carl is more… impatient.” He took out his tobacco, rolled a cigarette. “Carl’s older, more single-minded. It’s more urgent for him.” He lit up. “He’s sorry. He knows he fucked up.”
“He didn’t,” I said. “He offered me everything, Rick, offered me my dream. I just… I can’t take it. I can’t give him what he wants.”
“You’re sure? Not ever?”
I shrugged. “Shit, Rick, I don’t know. Forever’s a long time. Yesterday I was celebrating kicking Verity’s ass and planning to do it again at the Cheltenham Chase. I was planning what I’d do with this place, once I was officially renting. I was thinking about you guys, spending the weekend with you, chilling out and having fun, probably drinking too much wine and taking more cock than is good for my riding.” I pulled the hair back from my face. “I wasn’t thinking about losing all of this. I sure as fuck wasn’t thinking about babies and dirty nappies and bringing up a kid with two men I barely even know.”
“You know us,” he said. “There’s nothing much more to see than you’ve seen already.”
“I like what I’ve seen already,” I said. “I just… a baby, Rick. That’s so… big.”
“Too big.” He took a long drag. “Too big and way too soon.”
“But I’m glad he told me, I’m glad I know. This kind of thing doesn’t get any easier down the line, people just get more invested. I’d have been more invested in six months.”
“And maybe that would’ve made all the difference.”
“Maybe.” I shrugged. “I never really wanted to do the kid thing, Rick. I never felt it.”
“I know,” he said simply.
“Mum tried her best but it was hard. I watched her sacrifice everything, as soon as I was old enough to get it. She was young, her friends were going out, she was always home, always with me. Working loads of crappy hours to keep me in uniform and shoes and school dinners.” I shook my head. “That’s not what I want. Not for me.”
“It wouldn’t be like that for you.”
“Maybe not.”
I could feel his eyes on me. “Definitely not.”
I laughed a little to myself. “It’s funny. When I was a little girl I used to wonder about my dad. Used to dream about who he was and where he was. Used to conjure up all these crazy fantasies about how he was a soldier, or a faraway prince, or a pirate even, that he couldn’t be there for me because he was on some adventure somewhere he couldn’t get out of. I’d plan it all out, imagine how I’d feel when he turned up one day, and he’d be likeKatie, I’m your dad, I’ve been thinking about you your whole life. Only then I realised my dad wasn’t a soldier, or a prince, or a pirate. He was just some douchebag who knocked up my mum and abandoned us both.”
