“I just wanted to say sorry, not that it’ll be worth anything, not after everything, but with Samson being here, and you and Dad making amends, I just thought I’d say it.”
“Thanks.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. “I really appreciate your help with Samson. I really do.”
“You’ll ride him again,” she said. “Give him some time out.”
“A lot of time out.”
She didn’t argue. “And your leg, it will get better…”
“Eventually.” I was smiling, though, because she was right. It would get better. “It could have been worse. He made it. We’re both still here.”
“And you’ll still do things together, and if you want to ride, when you’re better, I mean, you could always ride one of mine, just until Samson’s…” She took a breath. “I’d like that.”
Too much, too soon, but I kept smiling. My emotions were piling up in my belly, and I felt small again, and weak. But strong, too. I felt it all at once.
I tried to lighten the mood.
“I’m so bummed about Harrison,” I said. “I mean talk about a shitter. You’ll have to take me some photos. I’ll want to know everything.” I laughed. “You’ll have to think of me, hobbling around on my crutches while you’re learning secrets from the best handler that ever existed.” I flipped her the finger, but it was good-humoured, as good-humoured as I could make it. “Lucky cowbag.”
She didn’t seem to think it was funny, and I felt strangely guilty.
“But I…” She cleared her throat. “We cancelled Harrison. I cancelled Harrison. Not permanently, just until you’re better.”
The blood drained from my face, my jaw loose. “You did?”
“Yeah.” Her eyes twinkled. “Not just for you, of course.” She tutted loudly, but it was in fun. “I’m planning on staying on at the office, after the internship. I think I might specialise in marketing. I’m enjoying it.”
I’d forgotten all about the internship. It felt so far away.
“That means a lot,” I said. “About Harrison. I really wanted…”
“I know,” she said. “It’s my dream, too.”
I felt choked up and awkward. “You must be busy, with all that at work and looking after Samson... a lot on your plate…”
“A little, but I have people to help, too. I can’t take all the credit.”
I smiled. “I’ll find him another yard, get out of your hair as soon as I’m back in action enough to sort something out.”
She tickled his nose, but her eyes were on mine. “Won’t exactly have to look hard,” she giggled.
I stared at her. “Sorry?”
She looked at me so strangely, as though I’d taken some kind of knock to the head. “Woolhope…” she said. “Surely he’ll be going back to Woolhope? Eventually, I mean, he can stay here as long as you want.”
I took a breath. Prepared myself to say it. “The yard’s been repossessed. Up for sale.” It still pained. “He won’t be going back there.”
She looked confused, properly, seriously confused. And then a smile crept across her face. “You don’t know, do you? Fucking hell, you genuinely don’t know.”
“Don’t know what?”
“It’s a great place, by the way, loads of potential. I see why you wanted it so much, I see why it was your dream.” She sighed, but she was grinning. “Shit, I really shouldn’t say. I really shouldn’t.”
I shook my head. “Sorry? I don’t…” And then it dawned. Of course it did.
But I daren’t even.
“Carl,” I said, and I was already looking around for him. “Are you telling me Carl bought the yard?” And I knew. Of course he did. Of course he bought the yard. “My God… oh my God…”
I was reeling. Part euphoric, part giddy at the thought, part scared, overwhelmed. Angry that he’d done it.
But so grateful I could hardly take a breath.
I wheeled myself back towards the car, my fingers tingling and my heart pounding, but Verity jumped in front of me. “Wait,” she said. “It wasn’t…”
“What?” I said. “Is it mine, or not? I just don’t…” I took a breath. “I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what to do…”
“Oh, it’s yours,” she said, and her eyes were bright and happy. “Only it wasn’t Carl who bought it for you. It was Dad.”
Life is so weird.
So good and so bad all at once.
Verity was right about the yard. It was mine. Signed, sealed, and delivered.
“I was going to tell you,” Carl said. “I would have bought it myself, but your father wouldn’t budge on it.” He paused. “I wanted to let him tell you, when you were ready