Springtime at Cherry Tree Cottage (16 page)

‘I can stand up for myself,' I protest, although I'd rather leave it alone, but he's already letting the group know what he feels about their bitching.

‘For those of you who haven't met her, this is Flick, my farrier,' he says, and the women fall silent. Gina sits fiddling with a heart-shaped locket on a chain around her neck. ‘All of us know how careless horses are about their clothing, trashing their rugs and losing their shoes. It happens. You really shouldn't go around wrecking reputations when your own reputation is pretty fragile.'

‘Excuse me?' Gina blushes.

‘You know what I mean. Anyway, my new mare was trying to kill her the other day and, even though she had a nail through her hand, she carried on and finished the job. She's shod Nelson too, and everyone knows I wouldn't trust just anyone to look after him.' He pauses. ‘And that's enough gossip about Mel. He's my cousin's husband, in case you've forgotten. I'd appreciate it if you had some respect for her feelings.'

‘Everyone knows what he's like,' the other woman says.

‘He's made some mistakes along the way. So what? We all have,' Robbie says fiercely. He glares at Gina.

I step forwards, linking my arm through his.

‘Let's go back and sit down,' I say. ‘It isn't worth it.'

‘You're right,' he says, turning to me. ‘Would you like another drink?'

‘Thank you, but I haven't finished the first one yet.'

‘I'll get another one in anyway. What are you having this time?'

‘Okay, I'll try half a pint of the local real ale.'

Feeling guilty that he's paying for a second round, I pop out to the Ladies to freshen up. I meet Robbie on the way back to our table. He's carrying two glasses.

‘Enjoy.' He smiles as he places them on the table.

‘Thank you.'

He pulls the chair out for me and I sit down, my mind in a flurry of anticipation. He takes the seat opposite and stretches out his long legs under the table. His calf sidles up against mine and there it stays.

We talk about music and our favourite box sets. Robbie's is
Game of Thrones
, but he can't watch it when Maisie is around. Mine is
The Wire
. As for music, I confess that my girl-crush is Taylor Swift. Robbie's musical tastes are varied, from the Beatles to Maroon 5.

‘I listen to anything,' he says. ‘We often leave the radio on for the dogs, and Kerry always has music on when she's on the yard.'

Kerry, I think. Now's my chance to ask.

‘Are you and she an item?'

‘Oh no. We're friends.'

‘I'm sorry, I was being nosy,' I say happily.

‘She's worked for us for over three years now. She's like part of the family.' He hesitates. ‘Have you thought any more about your plans when you finish here with Mel?'

‘Not really.' I raise one eyebrow. ‘Are you trying to get rid of me already?'

He grins. ‘Not at all. Rather the opposite, in fact.'

‘I need to earn some money first, then I'll look for a second-hand van so I can strike out on my own. I want my own business. I like the idea of not having to depend on anyone else.'

‘I have a friend, the guy at the garage, who buys and sells used vehicles. I can ask him to look out for something suitable. Have you got a budget in mind?'

‘It has to be as cheap as possible, reliable, and not a rust-bucket. It doesn't matter about the colour.'

‘I'll have a word with him when I take the Land Rover in for its MOT.'

We continue chatting for a while longer before setting out for home. As we travel along the narrow lane towards Wisteria House in the pale light of the crescent moon, I wonder what will happen next. Would Mel and Louise mind if I invited him in for coffee? Will he sweep me off to Cherry Tree Cottage for kisses and cuddles?

He pulls in beside the gate outside the B&B, leaving the engine running and the gearstick throbbing between us. He leans across and slides his arm behind my shoulders.

‘Much as I'd like to, I'm afraid I can't stop now – I told Mum I wouldn't be later than eleven.' He smiles ruefully. ‘I don't like to take advantage of her in case she doesn't offer again.'

I understand. Robbie has an unassailable commitment to his daughter. I'm not sure how I feel about it, though. When he said there was nothing going on between him and Kerry, I was relieved because it meant that he was free to see me, but now it seems that he isn't as available as I'd hoped.

‘Are you free at the weekend?' he asks.

‘This weekend?' I say stupidly, my heart hammering hard.

‘I'm having a barbecue at the cottage to celebrate Mum and Dad's silver wedding anniversary. Everyone's invited. It's casual – wear what you like and bring a bottle. No presents, at my father's request.'

‘It sounds a bit daunting, a family occasion.'

‘Oh no, there'll be lots of people there.'

‘What time?' I say, making my mind up.

‘Any time after seven. All the horses will be out by then. Don't be late. I might need your help with the barbecue.' He inclines his head towards mine and presses his mouth to my lips, and I'm lost in his embrace until, eventually, he pulls away.

‘I'd better go,' he murmurs, his reluctance to make a move evident in the tension in his face and his sigh of regret. ‘I don't want to, but …'

‘I'll see you at the weekend,' I whisper. ‘Goodnight.'

‘Goodnight, Flick.'

He waits for me to close the gate before he drives away. I walk past Rafa's paddock, where he comes ambling up to the gate at the sound of my footsteps on the drive. I give him a mint from my bag before I return indoors, where the house is in darkness and everyone is asleep.

Upstairs, I lie on the bed. A delicious tingle of anticipation runs from the top of my head to the soles of my feet as I dream of being in Robbie's arms with our mouths and bodies locked together. I can taste his kisses, smell his musky masculine scent, and hear the pounding of our hearts. I'm getting carried away. I'm ready, I think, for another relationship after Ryan, now that he's out of my system – emotionally at least, if not financially yet. I can say that now, though I still don't know how I'd feel if I ever saw him again. I smile to myself. I shouldn't have started reading the romance novels at Wisteria House for something to do in the evenings.

It's all very well dreaming, though. I have more pressing concerns. How am I going to cope without money? Working for Mel for three months or so isn't necessarily going to get me out of the hole I'm in. Not only do I have to repay my debts, I have to support myself and Rafa, and set up my own business.

I can't sleep. I turn on the iPad and surf the Internet for second-hand trucks, vans and furnaces to help me focus my mind on the future, and how I think I want it to be, but I can't help feeling that planning ahead is futile when I can't afford a round of drinks, let alone a truck.

Chapter Eight
The Healing Power of Horses

When I get Rafa ready on the morning of the barbecue, I ask him what he thinks I should wear tonight. He merely nudges my pocket to see if I have any treats. I hack him past the field where the piglets squeal and scamper about while the sows look on wearily as if they'd appreciate some peace and quiet. One of them stands belly deep in a muddy wallow beside one of the water troughs, her eyes half closed in the spring sunshine.

After I've washed Rafa down with Ashley looking on, I return him to his stable for the day. I grab a drink from the kitchen and Louise offers me cake before I go out again.

‘It's carrot cake so it's vaguely healthy,' she observes as she cuts me a huge slice. ‘I'm assuming you won't want dinner tonight as you'll be at the barbecue.'

‘That's right. I should have said. I'm sorry.'

‘No worries. Robbie mentioned it when I saw him in town today. Mel and I are going, and Ashley, although I'll bring him home early if he feels overwhelmed. I'm hoping he'll feel quite chilled because Maisie is there.' She smiles. ‘It's a great night out. We go every year to celebrate some occasion or other. You and Robbie? Are you and he …? Do I have to spell it out?'

‘We're friends, that's all.' I turn away to read the headline on the paper on the table.

‘You seem to be spending a lot of time together,' Louise tries again.

‘It's because of the horses.'

‘Sure,' she says wryly. ‘As I've said before, he's a lovely guy, but he's wary of dating. He has to be because of Maisie. She doesn't need a constant stream of women passing through her life. Children –' she glances at Ashley, who is removing the wheels from a toy lorry – ‘need stability.'

‘I'm off to do a couple of trims,' I say, changing the subject. I drain my glass and eat the last crumbs of carrot cake before saying goodbye.

On my way, I drop into Talyton St George to buy wine from Lacey's Fine Wines and a bouquet of flowers from Petals as a small gift for Robbie's parents, using a credit card.

Later, I see to Rafa and call Sarah for a chat. She invites me to her and David's upcoming housewarming party and suggests that I bring a friend. I mention a particularly hot stunt rider and she's so excited for me that I'm afraid she might give birth there and then.

For my evening out, I choose a white cotton top with puff sleeves, caught in at the waist, revealing a hint of flesh, a pair of pale blue shorts to show off my legs, and deck shoes. I wear a silver necklace with a simple crystal pendant and put on some make-up. Satisfied with my appearance, I drop into the kitchen to see if Louise, Mel and Ashley are about. Mel is at the table, eating beans on toast, Ashley is playing with Lego, and Louise is checking the B&B bookings in her diary. She looks up.

‘You're keen,' she says with a gleam in her eye.

‘We're running late as usual,' Mel says.

‘Tell Robbie we'll be there soon,' Louise adds. ‘Mel's had to have a snack in case he burns the steaks like he did last year.'

‘And the year before,' he grumbles. ‘There are some men who shouldn't be in charge of a spatula and grill, and Robbie's one of them.'

‘Oh, don't be mean,' Louise says. ‘At least he attempts something more complicated than beans on toast once in a while.'

‘Why should I learn to cook when I have a beautiful wife who roasts and bakes like an angel?'

‘Give over.' She flutters her eyelashes at her husband.

‘It's the truth.'

‘You wouldn't know the truth if it came and hit you in the face.'

‘I don't know what you're talking about.' He straightens in his chair. ‘Ouch! I'm not sure I'll be able to stay long tonight. My back's killing me.'

‘Don't you dare duck out,' Louise cuts in. ‘I had to have Sunday dinner with your brother and all his kids last week. The least you can do is return the favour and spend time with my family. It's Uncle Neil's silver wedding anniversary. It's special.'

‘All right, I'll suffer,' Mel groans.

‘Great,' says Louise, ‘as long as you promise to suffer in silence.'

He smiles. ‘You know me.'

‘Yes, I do, only too well.'

‘I'll be off then,' I say.

‘If you wait, we can give you a lift,' Louise says.

‘It's okay. I'll walk. It isn't far.'

‘There's a space in the car for the way home, if you're coming back this way tonight,' she goes on, ‘but if you aren't, I'll check on Rafa for you and bring him in tomorrow morning.'

‘Thanks. Um, I'll see you soon.' I escape from the kitchen, grab my bag with the wine and present, and make my way to Cherry Tree Cottage, wondering if I'll be spending the night there. I won't take my toothbrush. I'm not that presumptuous, but I am quietly optimistic. Robbie is a red-blooded male. We're both adults. If a kiss should become a cuddle and lead on to something more, why not? We know where we stand. A springtime of friendship could lead to a summer of love.

Blue and silver balloons, tied with ribbons and dancing in the light breeze, are strung along the fence beside the Saltertons' drive. The sun is low in the sky and the shadows of the trees are lengthening as I walk past a row of cars and up towards the cottage. There are people I don't recognise congregated around a picnic bench at the end of the lawn, so I head for the house, past the cherry blossom that is scattered like confetti across the grass. The front door is open. I knock and walk on in, taking care not to trip on Maisie's riding boots, which have been cast across the flagstone floor. There's no one in the kitchen, but there are signs of recent occupation: two bowls of salad – one tomato and onion, one green; knives; chopping blocks; paper bags and cardboard boxes from one of the local farm shops. It looks much like a work in progress.

Through the window, I catch sight of Robbie in the back garden. Dressed in jeans and a short-sleeved blue shirt, he's standing over a barbecue on the patio, blowing on to the coals.

‘You look like you could do with some help,' I call from the door.

‘Hi.' He straightens. His eyes caress my body from top to toe and back again. ‘I'd like to say that I have everything under control, but …' He holds out his hands. ‘… As you can see.'

I want to fall into his arms, but I notice that Maisie's on her way up from the bottom of the garden with a bucket and spade, and the two dogs, and I'm not sure how I'm supposed to behave.

‘I thought I could cope, but I underestimated the amount of preparation. I'm in the doghouse because I forgot to wash Maisie's party dress, I was late firing up the barbie, and I haven't chopped the veg yet.'

‘Daddy, I'm bored,' Maisie announces as she reaches us. She's wearing a sage-green shift dress embroidered with white daisies. ‘Hello, Flick. You need a new pair of shorts.'

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