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My stomach sank. Was that really what she thought? Were she and Dad just waiting for me to fail?
“I’m telling the truth,” I said stiffly. “Yes, the builders have encountered some problems, but they’re dealing with them. And okay, maybe the horses seemed overwhelming at first but I’m getting used to them. Every day I’m learning more and improving. I know it’s a long way from being what I’ve dreamed of but we’re getting closer to that dream each day.”
“You’re determined to go through with it?” She sounded curious rather than disapproving, but I wasn’t in the mood to pay much attention to the difference.
“Yes, I am.” I huffed as the stables came back into view. Better wrap this up before I upset the horses with my agitated energy. “You should come and visit. I’d love to show you around.”
She hummed thoughtfully. “Perhaps.”
That ‘perhaps’ was as good as a no. My parents wanted to be supportive, but they just didn’t understand my dream. Or perhaps it was that they didn’t trust me to accomplish what I’d set out to do. I wasn’t going to give up though. I was finally starting to make some traction, and their doubts—no matter how well intentioned—weren’t going to hold me back.
“I have to go. Sorry, Mum. I’ll talk to you later.”
“All right. Take care, sweetie.” She ended the call.
I pocketed the phone and marched into the corral. I needed to do something to get my mind off that conversation. Preferably something that would make it impossible to concentrate on anything except the task at hand.
“Put me to work,” I told Kate. “The dirtier and sweatier, the better.”
She grinned. “I have just the job for you.”
5
CAL
Today wasmy final checkup on the latest addition to London’s stable. When I arrived on site, she wasn’t waiting for me, but I’d grown used to that. Most likely she was busy somewhere and had completely forgotten the appointment. It didn’t matter anyway. It was more important for Kate to be present, and I knew she would be. London may know very little about horses, but she’d definitely known what she was doing when she hired her stable manager. The woman was knowledgeable and efficient. She ran a tight ship, which offset some of the chaos London seemed to cultivate.
I rounded the house, which was looking more inhabitable each time I visited, and made my way to the stables. Kate was rubbing down a horse in the corral. As I approached, she set the brush down and met me halfway.
“How’s she settling in?” I asked.
“Better than expected. Verity was definitely the most skittish of the lot.”
“Are you having clients ride her?”
She shook her head. “Just me for the moment. Perhaps down the road, we’ll change that, but for now, it isn’t worth the risk.”
“Makes sense.” I set my kit down as Jessica approached, and held out a hand. She sniffed it, then nuzzled my palm. I grabbed a treat from my pocket and offered it to her.
“You’ll spoil them,” Kate warned.
I met her eyes. “Something tells me they’ll be fine. Is it just us today, or is London coming too?”
Kate waved toward the stable building. “Go ask her. She’s mucking out Jessica’s stall. She was upset about something and I didn’t want her too near the horses in that mood.”
I felt a pang of sympathy. I’d thought things had been going better for London over the past few days, but perhaps she’d simply managed to put a better face on for the outside world. I headed for the second stall from the end and found London with her back to me, violently forking manure from the stall and shifting it into a wheelbarrow. Her movements were jerky, and she was breathing heavily.
“Whoa, what’d the poo do to you?” I joked.
She spun wildly, alarm flashing through her eyes as her thigh hit the handle of the wheelbarrow and tipped it off balance. The wheelbarrow rocked back and forth. London stumbled, her feet tripping over each other. I lunged forward to catch her, but she knocked into me with more force than I expected, and we crashed to the ground—wheelbarrow, horse shit, pitchfork and all.
To my horror, London went facedown into the manure. I landed on top and part of the wheelbarrow cracked me across the back. With a groan, I clambered off her and shoved the wheelbarrow away. She lay where she was, her shoulders shaking. I knelt, immediately shifting into doctor mode. Was she having a seizure? Had she injured herself? I didn’t want to forcibly roll her over in case I made things worse.
“Are you conscious?” I asked, gently touching her upper back.
She pulled up onto her elbows, her body still shaking as she made small snuffling noises.
“Are you… crying?” I asked.
