big bit of hedge was his answer.
That would have to do for now.
We trekked for hours, reliving our early days, following every path and every turn, cantering along every straight. We waved to the cyclists we’d come to know so well, listened to the same old dogs barking as their owners called their names.
I soaked it all in, as though this one ride could sustain me for all time, its memory enough to stave off the pain of losing this place I’d come to know so well, love so much.
Acceptance. Maybe this was the beginning of acceptance of a cruel sleight of fate. Pipped to the post by a bank who couldn’t wait just a few cruddy months longer. Assholes.
Samson was loose-limbed and happy as we headed back onto the yard, but me not so much. A few months from now and this would really be over. New people here, people with their own dreams for the place, probably so different to mine. I felt defeated as we walked past the farmhouse, defeated as I stared at Jack’s empty parking space, already a morbid omen of what was to come.
The lump in my throat was back, eyes hot and a little itchy, stomach twisting and empty.
Until there was Rick.
His car was by my trailer, silver and shiny against the dull metal shell of the barn. I squeezed Samson on, headed over to it, but Rick wasn’t inside.
My heart was thumping at the thought of him, the unmistakeable fizz of excitement overriding my misery. But I was nervous, too. Really nervous.
“Hey, pretty lady.”
My belly fluttered at his voice. I turned in the saddle to face him, shielding my eyes from the glare of sunlight, and he looked nervous, too.
He was wearing a green checked shirt over jeans, a pair of old boots on his feet. His hair was messy and stylishly unstyled, his smile warm and bright. The nerves were all in his eyes.
“Hey, sexy boy.” I smiled.
“Not such a boy,” he said, and walked over. He ran a hand over Samson’s neck, gave him a pat. “Good ride?”
I nodded. “Saying my first goodbye to the woods. I hope it takes ages, I hope I get to say hundreds of goodbyes.”
“I hope so, too,” he said. “Final goodbyes suck like shit.” He gave Samson a mint. “Who’s a boy, Sammy?”
He walked at our side as we headed to the stable block, his arms waiting as I dismounted. He didn’t linger, just gave me a squeeze and fastened Samson’s head collar around his neck. I loosened Samson’s girth, took down his saddle, and Rick was already in action, filling up a bucket and sponging down his back as I took off his bridle. We didn’t speak, our eyes making fleeting contact as we carried on with horsey business, and the tickle in my belly was so strong it made me squirmy, shifting my weight from foot to foot as I brushed Samson down.
I fastened up his rug and Rick loosened the lead rope. He led Samson to the field and I walked at his side. I watched Rick’s face as he let Samson free, his eyes full of genuine affection for my furry boy. He pulled the gate closed and stood to watch Samson away, arms folded on the top bar. I stepped up alongside him, breathed in the country air.
“I’m so fucking sorry, Katie.” His voice was quieter than usual. “I’m sorry about the yard. It’s such a fucking shitter.” He paused. “I’m sorry about…” He sighed. “I’m sorry about everything.”
“Where’s Carl?” I said.
“Working.” He sighed again, then he looked at me. “No, he’s not working. He’s at home. I asked him not to come.”
Tickly belly. Tickly everything.
I tried to find words. “Are you… um… is it what you both want?”
“A baby?” He looked back at the field. “Yeah, it’s what we both want. Carl is more… impatient.” He took out his tobacco, rolled a cigarette. “Carl’s older, more single-minded. It’s more urgent for him.” He lit up. “He’s sorry. He knows he fucked up.”
“He didn’t,” I said. “He offered me everything, Rick, offered me my dream. I just… I can’t take it. I can’t give him what he wants.”
“You’re sure? Not ever?”
I shrugged. “Shit, Rick, I don’t know. Forever’s a long time. Yesterday I was celebrating kicking Verity’s ass and planning to do it again at the Cheltenham Chase. I was planning what I’d do with this place, once I was officially renting. I was thinking about you guys, spending