Pathway to Tomorrow (7 page)

Later, rummaging through a drawer in search of a ball of string, Jodie pondered Carol’s words.  She didn’t really think she was right about the key.  After all it was easy enough to climb over the gate, as she and Izzie had already proved, so what was the big deal?  She would keep it on a string around her neck while she was working though, just to be on the safe side.

Finding the remnants of a ball of string at the very back of the drawer, she cut off a length, threaded it through the key, secured it with a knot, and then slipped the loop over her head.  The key slithered its way past the buttons of her polo shirt to its chosen resting place between her breasts. She shivered as she recalled the moment Marcus had held it out to her in strong brown fingers. It had felt warm as she took it; warm from his hand, warm from the pocket of his jeans, warm from Marcus.

She busied herself by tidying up the various items the instructors had left strewn across the table in their hurry to get to lessons. Then she dried up the mugs draining beside the sink and returned them to the cupboard next to the coffee, tea and sugar canisters.  She wasn’t going to think; not about Izzie and her singing; not about the key; and definitely not about Marcus.

* * *

Two hours later, still not thinking about Marcus, she tried to unlock the gate to the bridleway while a straggle of horses, riders and instructors waited patiently in the lane behind her. 

Marcus paused in the middle of loading his final piece of luggage into the boot of his car and watched her struggle with the key.  It was a large key and the lock was stiff.  When she failed at the third attempt he abandoned his bag and strode up the driveway towards her.

“Here, let me.  I should have remembered it was difficult to turn.  I’ll get the site manager to oil the lock for you.”

She handed it to him without a word.  Their fingers brushed as he took it from her and a shot of unexpected desire jolted him.  Beside him he heard Jodie’s tiny intake of breath.

As the key clicked into place he looked at her.  There was a flush of color in her smooth olive skin and her eyes, so dark they were almost black, were full of…what?  Was it desire or was it fear, or was it something far more complicated?  He couldn’t be sure because as soon as the gate swung open she turned away and began to chivy her ragtag battalion onto the bridleway.

He sighed as he locked the gate behind them.  Then he called out to her. “Haven’t you forgotten something?”

Jodie handed the reins of the horse she was leading to one of the instructors and ran back to where he was standing, the key swinging from his fingers.

“Sorry,” she said, taking it from him.  He watched as she slipped the loop of string over her head and tucked the key inside her polo shirt. Trying not to think about where it was resting, he took hold of her hand. His grip tightened as she tried to pull away.

“Jodie, hear me out.  I hope I’m not speaking out of turn but I want to spend more than a quick half-hour with you when I get back.  Can we do that?”

She stared up at him and he could feel her resistance, see the refusal beginning to shape her lips.  He shook his head.  “Don’t say it!  Don’t say anything.  Just think about it while I’m away will you?  And when I come back I’ll ask you again.”

They stared at one another for a long moment, and then she nodded.  He kept her hand clasped in his as he walked her back to her horse.  Both of them ignored the wide-eyed curiosity of the riders and the envious sighs of two of the instructors: Marcus because he didn’t care, and Jodie because she didn’t notice.

* * *

To all outward appearances life very quickly went back to normal once Marcus left.  When Izzie wasn’t studying she spent most of her spare time helping out at the stables, either mucking out the horses or leading some of the younger children around the training ring. It was something she enjoyed doing, and Jodie encouraged it because the children loved working with her.

Jodie herself, busy with end of year accounts as well as all the everyday tasks that managing the riding school entailed, could barely fit in mealtimes let alone any leisure activity.  It was the same every year when the onset of warmer weather and sunshine tempted new riders out of winter hibernation.  

Neither of them mentioned Marcus; Izzie because she didn’t want to have a discussion about her future with Jodie; Jodie because she didn’t want to think about him at all.  She managed fairly well during the day but at night, lying alone in her bed staring up at the ceiling, it was altogether more difficult. With no other distractions she found she couldn’t ignore the memory of the pressure of his fingers on hers, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, the shadow of a cleft in his chin. And often, when she woke up in the morning, she blushed to discover he’d been the shadowy figure in her dreams.

* * *

It wasn’t until a journalist from the local paper called to ask how her campaign was progressing that Jodie had to confront how she really felt about Marcus, however.  Still militant as far as the bridleway was concerned, she ignored Carol’s warning and told him about the key, and about how she hoped the temporary arrangement would soon become permanent, reconciling her twinge of guilt about mentioning it at all with a need to keep the issue in the public eye. It was a discussion she soon regretted though, because when she approached the gate an hour or so later, he was waiting for her.

“I’m here to give your campaign a boost,” he said as he pointed a camera at the straggle of horses and riders following her.

Irritated, Jodie jumped down from her horse and stood in front of the viewfinder.  “You can’t do that, not without permission.  They’re just children.”

“All right, keep your hat on!  I’ll take a back view of them as they ride down the path.”

Knowing there was nothing she could do to stop him, Jodie shrugged and unlocked the gate.  She had started the campaign after all, so it didn’t make any kind of sense to refuse some publicity. Besides, Marcus might change his mind again, so she needed to keep the local paper on side.

The photographer stood back as the children rode past.  Then, true to his word, he took several shots of them disappearing down the bridleway.  Anxious to lock the gate behind her so she could rejoin the children and the other instructors, Jodie fidgeted impatiently as he adjusted his lens. 

“Surely you’ve taken enough,” she said, starting to lead Buckmaster through the gate.

“Of the children, yes!  Not of Marcus Lewis’ house though. How fantastic to get to see what’s going on behind the gates while he’s not here. Trespassing wouldn’t be good for the paper, but with you here it’s legitimate. You’re a star Jodie! How did you persuade him to give you the key? No! On second thoughts I don’t think I want to know.”

It took Jodie several moments to register the sexual implication behind his words.  When she did, she flushed scarlet. He chuckled as he tried to push past her. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me!”

“How dare you!” She used Buckmaster to block the gateway, determined to protect Marcus’ privacy. She could cope with a slur on her reputation if that was how the journalist was going to play it, but she had no intention of letting Marcus down. Besides, he would be furious if photos and a description of the building work appeared in the local paper just because he’d trusted her with the key. It was one thing to talk about the bridleway, quite another to allow the journalist through the gate. Apart from anything else it would put an end to any hope she had that he’d eventually reconsider. If she let him down she could wave goodbye to it ever being reopened permanently.

“Wait until Mr. Lewis comes home and ask him to show you around himself,” she pleaded, hoping an appeal to the man’s better judgment would achieve more than losing her temper, despite the provocation.

“You must be joking. Everyone knows he’s very tight lipped as far as his private life is concerned, so this is probably my only chance.  Just look the other way Jodie.”

“No! You can’t do this!  It’s still trespassing because I promised I wouldn’t let anybody else onto the bridleway.”

He ignored her as he tried to push past Buckmaster.  When the horse resisted, he slapped it on the flank.  Buckmaster’s snort of fury prompted Jodie to hang on tightly to the reins.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I already told you. I’m going to take some photos of the house. And if you want the paper to carry on supporting your campaign then you’d better keep your damned horse under control.”

“My horse is fine. It’s you who is out of order.”

The skirmish rapidly degenerated into a slanging match with Buckmaster moving restlessly between them.  Jodie was at her wits end. She couldn’t close the gate without loosening her grip on the reins, and anyway the journalist was already standing foursquare on the bridleway and showing every sign of being prepared to wait her out. Torn between a need to pacify Buckmaster and a wish to punch her opponent right in the middle of his self-satisfied face, she was relieved to hear footsteps approaching from behind.

“Are you having problems Miss?” The voice belonged to Bill, Marcus’ site manager, a very large man whose face wore a permanent frown. He waved to Jodie whenever she rode by but, until now, had never offered anything more than a grunt of verbal acknowledgement.

Still intent on Buckmaster who was steadily becoming more and more agitated, Jodie gave him a grateful glance. “I’ve been trying to tell this man he can’t take photographs of the house, not without permission.”

“He can’t even come onto the property without permission.” Bill’s voice matched his bulk. Deep and sonorous, and accompanied by a fierce scowl, its effect was instantaneous.  Within moments the photographer had retreated to the lane and Bill had clicked the gate shut behind him. When Jodie tried to thank him, he just winked and walked away. He told Marcus though.

* * *

The call came while she was getting ready for bed.

“Jodie. It’s Marcus.” The leap of her heart even before he said his name shocked her into momentary silence.

“Bill called me. He said you had a bit of trouble with the Press today. Jodie…are you there?”

“I’m…yes…I’m here. He shouldn’t have bothered you. It was fine.”

“It didn’t sound like that to me. Bill said the journalist was trying to bully you.”

“He was until he saw Bill and decided he needed to be somewhere else in a hurry!”

She heard the laughter in his voice when he answered her. “Size wins I guess. He said you were doing a pretty good job on your own until he arrived though.”

“Well I’ve had a lot of practice. Battles are my thing in case you haven’t noticed.”

She spoke lightly but Marcus sensed an underlying tension.  His voice softened.  “I have noticed, and I understand about the bridleway, I really do… but it’s not just that is it?”

There was a long silence before she sighed.  “No, it’s not just that, but it’s complicated.”

“Try me.”

When it became obvious she wasn’t going to answer he searched for some neutral words to keep her on the other end of the phone.  “How’s Buckmaster?”

Her peal of laughter was reward enough.  “He’s fine even though you don’t really want to know.”

“I do,” he protested. Then, before commonsense kicked in and stopped him, he added the words that had been haunting him ever since he last saw her. “I want to know everything about you Jodie. I want to know about your life.  I want to know what you think.  I want to spend time with you without that infernal riding hat.”

The silence was back. He sighed.  What else had he expected?  She didn’t know him, not really.  He was just a guy who was hitting on her and he was a fool to think she was ready for that from someone who had not only shut off her beloved bridleway without a thought for the people who used it, but who was about to disrupt her life even more by encouraging her sister to
leave school and take her chances on a singing career.

“I’m sorry Jodie. I had no right…it came out all wrong.  I already told you I want to get to know you better though, so I’m not going to pretend I don’t, but long distance from America is probably not the best way to follow through.  Tell me about Buckmaster instead. Where did you get him because even I can see he’s a fine horse?”

“I…he was a present.  Someone I used to work for gave him to me when I left the job I was doing to take care of Izzie.”

“That’s some leaving present! They must have valued you a great deal.”

“Not really.  Bucky was lame.  He’d had an accident. The owner was talking about having him put down.” Her voice trailed off.

Marcus could see it all. The handsome chestnut favoring one leg, the owner no longer prepared to spend good money on a poor prospect, and Jodie, small and fierce, standing protectively in front of Buckmaster
and arguing for his life. He smiled.

“Another battle huh?”

“Mmm.” She wasn’t about to have a long intimate conversation with him but he could sense she wasn’t about to cut the call either.

“So how long did it take to get him fit?”

“About a year. I negotiated a feed Bucky for free clause when I signed my contract with the riding school!”