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Rick opened up the back. “Samson will love this, his own personal chauffeur service.”
Carl jumped on the floor inside until it clanked and echoed. “You’re sure this is safe?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, it’s safe. It’s rough round the edges not a total bag of shit.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” he said.
Rick jabbed him in the side, then grabbed him in a headlock to ruffle his perfect hair. “Don’t knock it, grumpy face. It’s fucking awesome.”
Carl pushed him off and aimed a foot at his ass, gave him a healthy kick. “I’m not knocking anything, I’m just safety conscious. Better safe than fucking sorry, Rick.”
It made me laugh. They always made me laugh. “I’m good,” I said. “I’m happy. I’ve wanted one of these forever.”
“Fine,” Carl said, and held up his hands. “Then I’m very happy for you.”
I checked the fixtures then fetched my car, reversing it back with bated breath in case I made a tit of myself, but I didn’t. I lined it up just right.
I waved them aside as I fastened it up, determined to do this shit myself, and I was grinning like a lunatic as we rumbled away with a trailer in tow.
“You’re a kickass chick, Katie,” Rick said. “She’s kickass, isn’t she, Carl?”
“I’m impressed,” he said. “Kickass, indeed.”
It made me feel on top of the world.
We rocked that trailer up onto the yard, and I wanted to show it off to Jack, but he was nowhere to be seen. I hadn’t seen him for days in fact, the van was rarely there. I tried calling him but it rang through to voicemail.
“It’s Katie,” I said. “Just checking in. Got a trailer, parked it up by the barn. Hope you’re alright. Catch you soon.”
“Check this out,” Rick said to Carl, and he was off, jogging on past the stable block to the field.
My heart fluttered as Carl stared back at me, and there was a look in his eyes. A heaviness. Aneed. “You don’t have to,” I said. “We can head back.”
But he shook his head. “Let’s go see the furry boy.”
Rick was up on the gate, waving his arms and yelling Samson’s name. He was funny, Rick. Everything about him was so funny. I climbed up beside him and joined in the call, and the thump of hooves came thundering. Samson pulled to a halt later than usual, and I swear it was just to make Carl nervous. Samson gave him the eyeball and a bit of a snort, and it made me cringe, and maybe smile a little.
“I told you,” Carl groaned. “He fucking hates me. He’d trample me, I’m telling you. That beast wants my blood.”
“He wouldn’t!” I giggled. “He’d be fine.”
But he tossed his head away when Carl tried to pat him, nipping around Rick to root in his pockets instead. Rick had mints, anunfair advantage.
“You can ride if you want,” Rick said. “We have plenty of time.”
I was tempted. I looked at Carl and he didn’t seem impatient. “If youwant,” he said. “You’re driving anyway, I believe that puts us at your whim, unless we plan on hiking back to Cheltenham.”
I looked at my furry boy and the urge to leap onto his back and go galloping across the common was strong, but there were other urges, too.
My tummy was tickling. It felt scratchy and strange and panged a little. Panged with something hard to place, a throb of something that wasn’t entirely sexual. I stared at the two guys in front of me and admired them, their easy manner, their kind eyes. Their patience, both of them. The time they had for me, and Samson, too. Their care.
Rick had mints in his pocket especially for Samson, and Carl cared enough to check my trailer.
They cared enough to slum it in my rusty old banger, and trudge through mud to see my baby.
They cared.
And so did I.
