On Monday morning, I got up an hour early to do my chores and get Samara ready to travel to the vet. Luke had promised to arrange transport for eleven, which I assumed meant a driver for Portia’s outrageously expensive horsebox. A horsebox that spent its time parked up behind the barn because, according to Susie, Portia had only used it twice in the last year.

At five past eleven, there was still no sign of a driver. I checked my watch again then compared it to the clock in the tack room. Yes, it was spot on.

“Have you got Luke’s number?” I asked Hayley.

“I wish.”

Should I call the vet? Hotwire the horsebox and drive it myself? No, Ash, forget that option. At ten past eleven, just when I was wondering what Bradley would do in a situation like this, Luke’s Porsche swung into the car park. He jumped out and jogged over.

“Ready to go?”

“As I have been for the last half hour. But the driver hasn’t turned up.”

“Yes, he has. I’m driving.”

“You?” Not what I’d been expecting. “You’ve got an HGV licence?”

“Surprised?”

“You don’t strike me as a lorry driver type of guy.”

“Don’t judge a book by its cover. Or a man by his Porsche.”

How many times had I heard that sentiment? An ex once told me I looked like a prom queen and fought like a Velociraptor.

“Fair enough. Dare I ask why you learned to drive a truck? I’m betting it wasn’t so you could spend your weekends taking your sister to horse shows.”

Luke snorted. “You guessed right. No, I used to go motor racing with a group of friends, and I got the licence to drive the car transporter.”

“What kind of racing?” I’d always loved cars, ever since I learned to steal them as a teenager. When I could afford to buy them legitimately, I’d started up a collection. Driving was yet another thing I’d missed since I’d been away.

“We started off with Caterhams then ran a Porsche in the British GT championship. A friend and I shared that drive.”

“How long were the races?”

“Anything from one to three hours. I loved that car. There’s nothing like driving around Brands Hatch, flat out at the head of the pack.”

Hmm… Driving a stolen Camaro with six cop cars chasing you could be pretty exhilarating.

“Did you win?”

“Once or twice. I wasn’t too bad.”

“You said you used to race. Why did you stop?”

“When my father died, I had to run his company and start living in the real world.”

I recognised the flat tone in Luke’s voice and the blank look on his face. I used both when I wanted to hide my own feelings.

“I’m sorry,” I said, and I meant it. “It must have been hard to give up something you loved.”

Luke didn’t answer, just walked off to the horsebox. Rather than standing there like an idiot, I went to fetch Samara from her stable. After a brief pause at the foot of the ramp, she followed me into the back of the lorry, and we set off. 

“Do we have far to go?” I asked.

“About ten minutes.”

Neither of us spoke on the journey, but the silence was strangely comfortable. 

***

“Still hopping lame, isn’t she?” the vet said when I trotted Samara up.

“Looks that way. A night’s rest doesn’t seem to have improved things.”

I scratched the mare’s neck as she hung her head. Poor girl.

“We’ll need to sedate her to do scans, X-rays, and nerve blocks. Can you leave her with us for a couple of hours?”

I raised an eyebrow at Luke. I could stay, but could he hang around?

“Sure, no problem. Do whatever you need to.”

The veterinary nurse took the horse, leaving Luke and me on our own in the exam area. Now what?

He turned to me and shrugged.

“Looks like we’ve got some time to kill.”

In my old world, the phrase meant something totally different, but I’d left that girl behind in Virginia.

“I should have brought a book.”

“There’s a TV in the horsebox.” He tapped away at his phone for thirty seconds. “Or we could get lunch?”

If Luke was offering food, that gave me a respite from beans on toast. Burned toast, seeing as my toaster was kind of temperamental.

“Sure. Lunch sounds good.”

He strode off, but down the driveway rather than towards the horsebox. After a moment’s hesitation, I followed.

“Where are we going?”

Not far in this icy wind, I hoped.

“There’s a pub along the road. It’s small, but the food’s good.”

“Anything I don’t have to cook is fine by me.”

Another plus point was that we weren’t going to The Coach and Horses, which seemed to be one of the main sources of village rumours. If I walked in there with Luke, the Women’s Institute would be celebrating our engagement by evening.

We arrived at our destination a few minutes later, and Luke hadn’t been kidding about the size of the pub. You couldn’t fit more than two dozen people inside comfortably. The old wooden bar looked like a relic from the Middle Ages, and a tiny room beyond held a handful of tables. Luke led me to an alcove at the rear beside a roaring log fire.

“You looked cold, so I thought this table would be best,” he said.

I smiled gratefully and tucked myself into the seat. The leather may have been worn and cracked, but it was still comfortable. I snagged the menu and looked through the dishes. No macaroni and cheese. Oh well, I couldn’t expect the day to be perfect.

“What are you having?” Luke asked.

“I’ll go with risotto.” I narrowly stopped myself from adding “and chips.”

Before we could order, Luke’s phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket, grimacing when he saw who was calling.

“Work,” he mouthed, covering the mouthpiece. “Could you order at the bar? I’ll have cottage pie and mineral water. I’ve got a tab.”

He was already talking into his phone as I followed him back out to the bar, and he continued outside while I told a frighteningly cheerful barmaid what we wanted.

“Ice with the orange juice?” she asked.

“No, thanks.”

She pushed the glass towards me, but her eyes were fixed on somebody behind. Assuming it would be Luke, I turned around with an almost-genuine smile, but my face soon fell when I recognised Mr. Wandering-Hands from the previous Thursday night. Was he following me?

“Oh, it’s you.”

“Hello, sweetheart. Where did you disappear off to last week?” he asked.

“I felt sick.”

“You should have stayed. I’d have made it all better.”

“I doubt that, since it was you who made me nauseous in the first place. And get your fucking hand off my arm.” I’d had enough of playing polite and a little of my old self came to the fore.

The barmaid smothered a snort of laughter, but instead of letting go, the guy’s fingers tightened.

“You need to learn some manners—” he started.

I felt another presence behind me, and this time it was Luke. He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me back against him.

“Your hand’s still on her arm, Henry. It’s not Ash who needs to learn manners.”

Henry sneered and gave my arm one last hard squeeze before letting go. “I didn’t realise she was with you, Cain. She didn’t mention that the other night.”

“What other night?”

“When we had dinner.”

With that parting comment, Henry made a swift exit. Luke turned to me, his arm leaving my waist.

“You had dinner with him?”

Why did Luke look so hurt? We’d only known each other for five minutes.

“Only in his dreams. I met him at dinner, yes, but I was eating with Susie and Hayley when he and two of his mates decided to join us uninvited. After I got sick of him pawing at me, I climbed out of the window in the ladies’ loo and fu…went home.”

That at least got a smile out of Luke. “I’m afraid now he’s seen you with me, he may well try even harder.”

“I take it you two don’t like each other much?”

“Not since we were kids. It started off as a feud between our fathers. His old man’s a property developer, and my father refused to sell him a piece of land. I own it now, and I still won’t part with it. The bad blood fed down to me and Henry.”

“I can see that.”

“It’s become a game. Henry always wants what I have, and he’ll try his best to get it.”

“So is that what I am now? The latest pawn in your game?”

“No! Don’t ever think that. You’re anything but a game.”

Well, that was nice to know, although I wasn’t convinced Henry shared Luke’s sentiments.

“Right. Now we’ve cleared that up, shall we sit down?”

That self-important arsehole had taken up enough of my time today, and I didn’t want to dwell on him.

Luke followed me back to the table, and the food arrived soon after. It wasn’t much to look at, but Luke was right—it tasted good. As we ate, he apologised for abandoning me to Henry.

“If I’d known he was here, I’d never have gone out. Work’s crazy right now. I rarely take time off, and I had to reschedule things this morning to drive the horsebox.”

“You were working this morning? That’s why you were late?”

He nodded. “Sorry about that. A meeting ran over.”

“It’s okay. I just got worried nobody was coming, and I didn’t know how to get hold of you.”

Luke picked my phone up from next to the salt shaker and tapped away at the keys until his own phone rang with “Ride of the Valkyries.” Interesting choice.

“Now I’ve got your number, and you’ve got mine. Next time I’m late, I’ll call.”

Next time? What next time?

“Great. Now when one of the girls at the yard wants your number, I can give it to them.” I burst into laughter as he choked on his drink. “Oh, lighten up. I was joking.”

“Last year, I had to change my number when a group of girls from Upper Foxford got hold of it. I was getting a hundred calls a day.”

“Wow, that’s dedication.”

He grimaced. “It was something. Can I ask a strange question?”

“You can ask. I won’t promise to answer.”

But I was curious as to what his question would be.