Race Girl (32 page)

Brandon's jaw clenched and he crossed his arms, leaning back against the statue, pulling Tully gently against his frame. ‘
This
dress . . .' He said, his eyes eating her like birthday cake. ‘You're the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen.'

Tully shook her head, brushing a rogue curl from her cheek, trying not to smile. ‘Bet you say that to all the girls.'

‘No,' he said firmly. ‘Shouldn't believe everything you hear, Athens.'

‘Oh. Well, thank you, then.'

‘You're just as gorgeous in jeans, but. Or—especially—on the back of a horse.'

Tully laughed, wishing he'd stop, but at the same time pretty chuffed the dress had had the desired effect. ‘So, your dad . . .'

‘Yeah, well,' Brandon shook his head, running a hand down his jaw. ‘He's had to be tough, I guess—' His eyes locked with hers— ‘But I don't want to talk about him, or anything to do with this place tonight.' He took a deep breath and reached forward, taking her hands in his. ‘I'm only interested in you.'

Tully's heart swam with happiness. ‘Right, well, can we go say hi to Diva and Gally, please?'

‘'Course.' Brandon smiled, before leading her across the courtyard to the man-door of the garage. Tully brushed her hand over the hoods of exotic car after faster exotic car, even a Hummer, as she followed Brandon to the dark far corner. He grabbed a set of keys off the back board, then whipped the cover off a blue Yamaha Rhino, parked next to the quad bike. Tully couldn't help but let out a squeal of excitement, hopping up into the passenger seat of the off-road buggy.

‘Buckle up,' Brandon grinned, offering her a drink to finish before stashing the food in the glove compartment, his eyes flashing mischievously. ‘I've been known to drive a bit fast.'

Tully rolled her eyes. ‘No, really? Just don't crash us,' she said, gripping the dash as Brandon opened the door in front of them with a touch of a button on the keychain, threw the Rhino into reverse, and tore off across the yard.

The mist thickened to drizzle and a crack of lightening pierced the sky, followed shortly by booming thunder. Tully grinned, clutching on as Brandon headed off the paved road, ripped across a stretch of turf and over the corner of a flower bed. She threw back her head and laughed, her spirit revelling in the adventure. She never would have imagined the night going like this . . . or maybe she had.
Maybe
she'd wanted it to go this way, but never would've admitted it to herself. She hoped Brandon would keep his word and never hurt her again – but she recognised the risk.

‘It's worth the risk, Tully,'
her mother's mantra spun through her mind as another shot of lightening lit up the night sky.
Just like riding,
love
is worth the risk,
Tully decided.
Living is worth it.

She smiled across at Brandon as he skidded to a stop in front of the largest of the four barns. The smell of hay and horses swept over her and Tully felt at home for the first time since entering the gates of Weston Park.

Brandon took her by the hand, leading her past horses she recognised from the biggest races in Queensland – some of the biggest in the country. Horses who had won some of the World's richest races, horses she'd admired her whole life. Horses worth more each than the whole of Avalon Downs.

Diva's bay head popped out of a stall near the end, her ears flicking forward. She whickered in welcome, but Tully wasn't sure if it was for her or her handsome companion.

‘She's my sweetheart,' Brandon chuckled, wrapping his arm around Tully, striding to the mare. Tully watched in wonder as Brandon ruffled the mare's forelock, Diva searching the pockets of his tux, leaving a long green stain across the pocket. Brandon laughed, wiping it off with his hand. ‘All good, girl—don't like this bloody thing much anyway.' He undid the buttons, swung off his jacket, handing it to Tully. ‘You look cold.'

‘Thank you,' she said, snuggling down behind the warm collar. Her lips brushed the smooth fabric, she had to remind herself to stop sniffing it. His cologne was intoxicating.

‘I make sure she's looked after,' Brandon said, his hand stroking Diva's white star lovingly. ‘Her and that bloke down there—' he nodded to the next stall along where Gally dozed in his shavings— ‘I never agreed with Dad taking them off you, Tully. But I make sure they stay in the main barn here when they're not stabled on track at Weston Lodge, Eagle Farm.'

Tully leaned forward to see the rim of Gally's chestnut rump, snug under his blanket as he slept, curled in the bedding.

‘Thanks for looking after them,' she said, her mind working around his last sentence.
What happens to the horses who
aren't
in the main barn?

Brandon leaned back against the stall, slipped down to the concrete floor. He looked up at her with those burning brown eyes, taking her by the elbows and pulling her down into his lap. ‘Sorry about dinner,' he said, handing her one of the crusty bread rolls.

Tully smiled, took a bite – the roll was so soft and fresh inside. ‘I wasn't expecting this,' she said, leaning back against him.

‘You wanted to ream me out, didn't ya?' He peered into her face, smirking.

Tully elbowed him in the ribs, making him yelp. ‘You deserved that.'

Brandon laughed, hugging her tightly. She rested her head back against his body, listening to his strong heart beating.

‘I was serious about what I said, Tully,' Brandon said, stroking the back of her neck with a rough, steady hand. ‘I was scared before. I've never felt this way about a girl, and with everything that's happened with my oldies, I guess I just didn't know how to handle it. But I know what I want. I always have . . .' He reached into his pocket, pulling out a long blue box.

Tully's breath caught and her mind flashed back to where she'd seen it before, in his centre console when he was driving them home the morning after her sweet sixteen.

‘Sorry I didn't have the guts to give this to you earlier.' He handed her the box and she opened it slowly, gasping as her eyes took in the most beautiful piece of jewellery she'd ever seen: a silver horseshoe necklace, encased with what she hoped were diamantes.

‘It's half a carat of diamonds, in white gold,' Brandon said, lifting her hair to thread the chain around her neck. The cool metal of the horseshoe laid flat against her skin as his warm, rough fingers fumbled with the latch. Her heart leapt in her chest, feeling the heat of his.

Brandon managed to get the latch closed, and Tully had curled into his warm lap, reaching her lips up to his when they both jumped at a commotion down at the entrance to the barn. Pearce and his head strapper, followed by a steady stream of men Tully didn't recognise, had burst into the stable, now charging towards them. ‘Brandon!' Pearce hollered, sending slumbering horses scampering to their feet. ‘Where the hell's Princeton?'

‘The yearling?' Brandon said as Tully unwrapped herself from his arms and he helped her up. ‘How the hell should I know?'

‘Don't play games with me, mate,' Pearce said. ‘He's missing—
look!
' He pointed into the first stall in the row. ‘And some sick bugger just left a note at the front door, some guy in a hoodie Priscilla didn't recognise . . .' Tully was sure Pearce shuddered as he held up the folded note in his hand. ‘Do you know anything about this?'

‘Of course not, Dad!' Brandon said.

‘Should I be questioning your old man about this, Athens?'

‘
Oi!
' Brandon said, his voice gruff and deep, his height more than matching his father's as he approached. ‘You don't get to speak to Tully like that.'

‘I don't have time for your little love tryst, Brandon.' Pearce shook his head, then turned towards the office, the men following suit. ‘It was one thing when the tyres got slashed—' he called back over his shoulder— ‘but that yearling cost me over a million. Now his stall's empty, and some creep's leaving death threats on our doorstep!'

27

Land of Extremes

Tully watched Brandon's eyes go wide. He turned to her, his face creased with concern, apprehension. ‘I—'

‘It's fine, Brandon,' she said, urging him forward. ‘It sounds bad; you oughta go . . .'

‘Sorry,' he whispered. ‘Can you drive the Rhino? Or I can drop you up, if you'd like?'

‘No, I'd love a go,' she said, accepting the keys. ‘Good luck.'

‘I'll be up soon.' He kissed her quickly on the cheek, before hurrying after his father and the men who were disappearing into a glass-fronted office in the middle of the stable.

Tully enjoyed the drive up to the house, breathing in the sweet air – clean from the shower of rain, easing through her mind like the strongest scent of eucalypt. She parked the Rhino out the front of the garage and hurried through the rain to the garden, pulling Brandon's jacket tightly around her shoulders. She spotted a gazebo just inside the garden, sat down lightly on the stone bench, slipping her phone from her clutch to shoot Tam a text about her crazy-bizarre-wicked-awesome night.

She paused, her fingers halting over the screen of her phone when a group of women stepped down off the terrace, on the opposite side of the hedge. ‘Well,' one woman said, in a clipped, high-pitch voice. ‘My bet is it's the same person who's been letting all those horses out.'

Another piped up, ‘Those people from across the road who got hit – what are their names? The daughter's trying to make it as a jockey..?'

The first woman laughed, before answering, ‘Athens. Their place is a tip, and the mother was killed in a race. Quite sad that the daughter's now heading down the same road, isn't it?
Then
there was another stable closer to town, where the horses were let out not long after . . . Might be a crime ring from the city? Or bored kids from town?'

At least I know it wasn't the Westons who let our horses out,
Tully thought, the women's banter scalding her heart, and suddenly she felt uncomfortable and very alone in her dress and stupid heels. Tears surged to her eyes and she crouched low into the shadows, hurrying down the hedge towards the driveway.

She'd been waiting her whole life to see inside these gates. Now, she realised, this idyllic racehorse city was more like a shark tank. Every fibre of her soul yearned for home as she stumbled towards the lanterns of the drive.

The clear air of the driveway was in her sights, when Tully tripped over the foot of a figure sitting cross-legged in the grass, a bottle of wine in each of her hands. ‘Silly women, Tully,' the woman said, a witch-like laugh erupting from her, the moonlight glinting off her wild, grey curls. ‘Wouldn't know the head of a horse from its ass end.'

‘Mrs. Hoxton?' Tully pushed herself up off the wet grass, brushed her hands down the front of her dress, then knelt down beside her neighbour. ‘Are you okay?'

‘You're a sweet girl, Tully,' Mrs. Hoxton said, taking a swig at one of her bottles. ‘Too sweet for this industry.'

‘She's not
all
sweet.'

‘Oh—Brandon,' Tully said, reaching for his outstretched hands.

‘That's what I love about her,' Brandon continued, helping Tully to her feet. ‘Sorry I had to go. Should I take you home?' His arm threaded around her waist, his lips meeting her cheek.

‘To Tam's, please,' Tully grinned. ‘That'd be great, thanks.'

‘And what are
you
, young man?' Mrs. Hoxton asked, smiling out from the hood of her blood red robe. ‘Nice, or naughty?'

A bit of both . . .
Tully thought, the smell of his cologne crashing into her like a cresting wave.

‘Do you need a lift home, Mrs. Hoxton?' Brandon said.

‘A bit nice, are we?' the old woman grinned. ‘That would be lovely, though, thank you. This crowd is a serious bore.'

Tully and Brandon helped Mrs. Hoxton to her feet, walked with her slowly to Brandon's ute. They helped her into the back, buckled her in.