Nothing but Trouble

Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

ON SUNDAY MORNING, the Uglies skipped breakfast, which was a blessed relief. I’d had quite enough of them at dinner the night before. I didn’t care if Annabel’s family owned a mansion in Surrey and a villa in Spain, or that Felicity’s father was head partner at a law firm, but I found out anyway, at full volume and in excruciating detail.

I’d been tempted to skip dessert just to get away from them, but June’s treacle tart won out and I’d stayed for a small slice. Okay, slices. Maybe I should take up aerobics?

I glanced down at my stomach. Was it my imagination, or had it grown in the last few days? No, it must be the cut of my breeches—skin tight lycra didn’t flatter anyone. I sucked it in as Connor sauntered through the kitchen door, rubbing his eyes.

“Late night?” I asked, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. He’d been engrossed in conversation with Annabel when I’d retired to my room, their heads bent together as he laughed at her witty repartee.

“Yeah, I had things to do.”

Things? Or Annabel? I sighed. What was the point in dwelling on it? People who looked like Connor dated the Annabels of this world, not girls like me who couldn’t even get off a horse without ballsing it up completely.

The kettle boiled, and I spooned instant coffee into a mug. Usually I was more of a tea drinker, but I hadn’t slept well the night before and I needed the caffeine. Visions of Terry and Mike slugging it out in a boxing ring had filled my dreams, blood dripping and teeth flying. The shame of it was I wanted both of them to lose.

“Do you fancy coffee?” I asked Connor. He looked as rough as I felt.

“Yeah. Please.”

“What’s the plan today?”

“Chores first, then I’ll give you a lesson.”

“Not Jenny?” At least with her there, I had a buffer between Connor and my hormones.

“She’s out today, filming.”

“Filming?”

“You didn’t know? Jenny doesn’t just run riding holidays; she trains horses for film and television work. She’s taken two of them out to work on an episode of a new TV drama.”

Suddenly Annabel’s comment about coming here to ride movie star horses made sense. “Does she spend much time doing that?”

“Her husband helps with that side of the business, but he’s away in Scotland with a team of horses for a couple of months working on a Hollywood blockbuster.”

“Wow! That sounds amazing! It must be hard for Jenny though, being on her own.”

“Yeah, she’s stretched quite thin at the moment, but the deal was too good for them to pass up.”

She must be exhausted, and sad too. Being away from the man you loved for weeks at a time had to be difficult.

Being away from Mike and Terry, on the other hand, was a good thing.

I got through the mucking out a little faster that morning and managed to brush Folly by myself before Connor came back.

“You have a go at tacking up today,” he told me.

“I’m really not sure...”

“Have some confidence in yourself and try.”

It was all right for him to say. He had it in spades. If ever a budding entrepreneur started selling bottles of confidence, they’d use Connor’s face on the label.

Hesitantly, I lifted the saddle. It weighed a ton, and my arms felt the strain as I lifted it onto Folly’s back. Remembering what Connor had done yesterday. I fastened the girth to one side and ran it under her belly, then tightened it up on the other.

“Is that right?”

“Yeah, it is.” He sounded surprised, but his words still made me glow inside.

The bridle presented my next challenge. It just looked like a tangle of leather straps, and I couldn’t even work out which way up it was supposed to go. In the end, Connor stepped up behind and helped. The heat from his body radiated against mine as he reached around me to sort out the jumble.

“First, you need to find the headpiece, and if you hold that and give it a shake, most of the time it sorts itself out.”

He made it look so easy.

I held my breath as he lifted my hands and helped me to put the bridle on. By the time we did the last buckle up, I’d almost passed out from lack of oxygen.

Luckily, Connor didn’t seem to notice as he turned away. “I’m going to get some lunging gear. We’ll be doing something different today.”

“Something different” turned out to be him standing in the middle and making Folly walk around him in a big circle at the end of a long rope. A lunge line, he called it.

“I’m controlling her, so you only need to worry about your position,” he called. “Head up, heels down.”

He was wrong. I also needed to worry about tumbling off and Folly walking over the top of me. It took ages before I began to relax. I was almost ready to contemplate letting go of her mane when Connor clicked his tongue and she walked faster.

“Stop!”

“She’s fine. Are you ready to try trotting now?”

“Uh, no?” I wasn’t sure I’d ever be ready.

“Just have a go.”

He clicked again, and she broke into a trot. I clung on to the front of the saddle for dear life as she ran along, praying for it to be over soon.

Why was he smiling? I looked like a total i***t, didn’t I?

“Now, the aim is to do rising trot. That means you sit for one beat and stand up for the next, in time to Folly’s steps.”

I tried it and nearly catapulted off the side. “It doesn’t work.”

“Sure it does, but it’ll take you a few tries to get it.”

That might be so for a normal person, but this was me we were talking about. I’d done no better by the time Connor slowed Folly to a walk at the end of the lesson.

“I think I’m a lost cause.”

He gave my shoulder a squeeze, making me jump. “You need to practise, that’s all.”

“Are we doing it again this afternoon?”

“No, I thought we’d go for a hack instead.”

“A hack?” Computer hack? Newspaper hack? Life hack? Uma Thurman Kill Bill-style hack?

“It’s where we ride out into the countryside. Be one with nature and all that shit.”

Oh.

That sounded like a disaster waiting to happen. What if Folly ran off? I had visions of me landing in the mud, or maybe getting impaled by a tree branch if I was really lucky.

“I’m not sure...”

“I am,” Connor said, and that was that.

I picked at lunch, too busy worrying about falling off in front of Connor to eat. Luckily, the only person who attempted to speak to me was Lenny, and that was only to complain his team lost at football the night before.

“It’s a bloody shambles,” he said. “There’s nothing worse than watching the other team score a goal in injury time.”

Well, clearly he’d never lived my life.

I felt quite pleased when I managed to put Folly’s saddle and bridle on by myself that afternoon. At least, I did until Connor pointed out all the bits I’d got wrong and redid it properly.

A few minutes later, I discovered something important—if Connor looked hot off a horse, on one he was incendiary. He sat astride a huge black beast with an easy grace, controlling it effortlessly with one hand.

“This is Captain,” he told me. “He’s my favourite ride around here.”

I almost said, “Even better than Annabel?” but I bit my tongue and followed him up the driveway instead. How ridiculous to be jealous of a horse.

Captain danced around a bit, but Folly plodded along behind. I had to admit the view was very nice, and the English countryside wasn’t bad either. After ten minutes, we turned off the lane onto a shady bridleway, and in time that opened up into a grassy meadow. Connor paused to let me walk up alongside him then nudged Captain to go faster.

“Are you ready to trot?”

“Not really.” I bit my lip. Obviously I’d have to try it again sooner or later, but I preferred it to be later.

A quick glance at Connor showed his mouth set in a hard line. I don’t think he liked my answer.

“You need to keep your hands lower,” he said a few seconds later. “A couple of inches above her neck, not under your chin.”

I tried that, resisting the urge to hang on to her mane again.

“Keep your heels down. If you don’t, your foot could slip through the stirrup, and if you come off, you’ll be dragged along.”

What a horrible thought. I immediately shoved them as low as they’d go.

“Head up. You go where you look, and you want to go forwards, not into the ground.”

I fixed my eyes forward. At least he hadn’t caught me looking at him.

“Sit up straight. Don’t slouch... Tuck your elbows in... Your hands have come up again, put them down.”

The list went on and on, and I felt like an incompetent toddler as he found fault with everything. Connor may have had good looks, but he also had a bad attitude. I was liking him less and less, which I guess was a good thing.

“I’m trying,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound too whiny.

“Yeah, very trying,” he muttered under his breath.

Now he was simply being rude, and something inside me snapped.

“Look, until yesterday, I’d sat on a pony precisely once, and I didn’t get off, I fell off. I can’t help being the least co-ordinated person I know, and it would be helpful if you cut me a little slack rather than berating me for everything I say and everything I do.”

As soon as I finished speaking, I wished I’d kept my mouth shut. The only excuse I had was perhaps a teeny bit of pre-menstrual tension.

Connor didn’t say a word, just looked away. An uncomfortable silence spread between us, heavy on my shoulders, my hands, my heart. I almost preferred his niggling to the suffocating blanket of nothing.

I was tempted to apologise, to cross the void, but the trouble was I’d meant every word. The little bit of pride I still had left wouldn’t let me say something I didn’t believe.

Then Connor surprised me.

“I’m sorry,” he said, so quietly I almost didn’t hear him.

“Pardon?”

“I’m sorry. I’m not having a great day, and I took it out on you.”

Well, that was a turn up for the books. It obviously hadn’t been easy for him to say those words, but still, he’d forced them out. “It’s okay. We all have days like those.”

“I seem to be having more than most at the moment.” He didn’t elaborate, just gave a heavy sigh, which was followed by a pause that stretched for a hundred yards of Folly’s gentle amble. “Why did you come to Linden Hollow? Usually when people sign up for an intensive two-week course, they’re keen on horses. You act scared of them.”

“That obvious, huh?”

“When Folly scratched her nose on her leg earlier, you jumped back three feet.”

I had to give him that one. “It wasn’t my idea to learn to ride. I got challenged to do it. Somehow, I have to ride in a dressage competition, but I don’t see how I’ll ever manage it.”

“Everybody started somewhere.”

“How did you start?”

Another silence, as if he was deciding how much to tell me. Finally, he shrugged. “My grandpop was a John Wayne fan, and every Sunday afternoon, we’d sit down and watch one of his movies together. I grew up wanting to be a cowboy, and after I’d spent years begging for my own quarter horse, he gave in and got a friend of his to let me help out on his ranch in return for lessons.”

“A cowboy, huh? Do you know how to rope steers and all that?”

“I’m not bad with a lasso, but Mom banned me from riding in any rodeos. She said she wasn’t going to spend her weekends in the emergency room.”

“Have you ever been hurt?”

“I broke my leg when I came off barrel racing and the horse fell on top of me. And once I managed to put a pitchfork through my foot.”

“Ouch.”

“My words were a little more colourful than that.”

“I’m sure they were.” Why was I so hopeless at having conversations like these? I never knew what to say, and they always fizzled away to nothing. I think that was why I stuck with Terry for so long. He was the silent type.

Connor spoke again, though. “So what, was it like a bet?”

“Was what like a bet?”

“The reason you’re here.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Why did I always turn into a fool in front of him? “Not a bet, exactly. More a series of impossible tasks that I’m supposed to complete within a year.” I found myself telling him about Edith and the bucket list.

“She sounds like a hoot.”

“Yes, she was.”

“So how many things have you ticked off?”

“One. Well, two, if you count the makeover catastrophe.”

“What catastrophe? You look good to me, babe.”

What? I couldn’t believe he just said that. I quickly turned my face away so he wouldn’t see the blush creeping across my cheeks.

“The hairdresser accidentally dyed my hair blonde. It’s a bit, well...it’s not really me.”

“Why not?”

“Platinum blondes tend to be outgoing and confident. I’m neither. I want to go back to what suits me.”

“Or you could look at it a different way. Why don’t you try changing yourself to fit the hair for a few weeks? You might find you like it.”

“I can’t do that!”

“You need to stop being so negative.”

“I can’t.”

“You just did it again. Try.”

“I ca...” I tailed off under the intensity of his gaze.

“Better. Now, what was that other thing you were talking about? Is your ex really living in your shed?”

“It’s more of a summerhouse.”

“Babe, I don’t care about the difference between a shed and a summerhouse. The dude’s living in it?”

“I think so. He was sleeping in the porch when I left, but Mike told me he was in the summerhouse now.”

“Who’s Mike? Your boyfriend?”

“No, he’s my, uh, stalker’s probably the best word for it.”

“Dare I ask?”

Oh, what the hell? Connor already knew enough about me to realise I was a total i***t, so one more tragic tale wouldn’t make much difference.

“Babe, you’re a walking disaster,” he said when I’d finished.

He thought I didn’t realise that? And what was with all the “babes?”

“I didn’t even tell you about the car crash.”

He closed his eyes and groaned. “I’m not sure I want to know.”

“That’s okay. I’m trying to erase it from my own mind.”

“Actually, tell me. I could do with a laugh.”

That was all I was good for, wasn’t it? Still, I recounted the tale of my first, and so far only, driving lesson. He was snickering by the time I’d finished.

“Remind me never to get in a car with you driving.”

Not much danger of that. “I don’t want to get in a car with me driving again either.”

He laughed louder.

“It’s not funny. This is my life.”

“Yeah, and it’s f*****g hilarious. You couldn’t make it up. You should have your own reality show.”

I shuddered. “No thanks. I can’t think of anything worse than being under the spotlight, having every c**k-up I make splashed across the tabloids.”

When I looked across at him, the humour had gone out of his eyes. He sounded almost weary when he spoke. “Yeah, on second thought, you’re right. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

We’d been so busy talking I’d barely noticed how quickly time had gone by, but when we passed a shiny red post box, I realised we’d done a big circle and reached the end of the driveway again.

“We’re back!” And I’d survived.

“You didn’t do badly once you relaxed,” Connor said.

As soon as he said that, I tensed up again. He was right. As soon as I thought about what I was doing, everything went to pot.

“It’s gone wrong again.”

He pushed Captain closer and leaned down to me. “I’ll just have to teach you to relax, then.”

By the time his words penetrated, he’d opened up the distance between us. What did he mean by that? Was he into yoga or something? I thought of him doing a downward facing dog wearing only a pair of shorts and let out a little sigh.

Oh gosh, had he heard that?

Thankfully not, as when I looked across, his attention was firmly fixed on Annabel, who was striding across the yard towards us.

“Ooh, Connor, we’ve been waiting for you to get back. A friend of Felicity’s lives near here, and he’s having a house party tonight. Do you want to come with us?”

I melted away. I didn’t want to be the third wheel in that conversation. There was no chance Annabel would invite me along as well, and I didn’t want to suffer the embarrassment of being left out in front of Connor. Instead, I managed to untack Folly by myself and do her bed for the night, then I went back to the barn. June had the evening off, so I took one of the sandwiches she’d left in the fridge and spent the evening in the arms of a fictional boyfriend. At least they were within my reach.