Page 1 of Back in the Saddle

PROLOGUE

It isn’t always one thing that puts an end to a marriage. It can be a lot of small things or a lot of big things. Sometimes marriages last a short time and other times they can last decades and sometimes they last forever.

Ciaron and Taylor’s marriage lasted twenty-two years.

Their marriage ended in the middle of May, in the second year of the drought.

Ciaron was standing outside the meeting room interviewing a prospective employee on the phone for the upcoming breeding season. The lady was from Ireland and their conversation was in English, with some Irish sprinkled in.

Ciaron didn’t miss Ireland; his home had been in Australia with his family for over twenty years. But when speaking with an Irish person, he just couldn’t help slipping into his native tongue.

There was nothing unusual about the interview. It happened every year. Two new employees were required for night watch to keep mares and foals safe.

Ciaron didn’t notice his wife watching him or her rising anger. If he did, he would not have understood.

Actually, no one would’ve understood.

They understood what happened next even less. Maybe they’d think back afterwards to see if there were any signs. Some thought there were.

Ciaron was happy with the interview, his last one for the year. He offered the job to Niamh on the spot. She would start in July, giving her enough time to settle in before the first foals were on the ground.

He was looking forward to the breeding season. Foals would bring much needed joy to the farm. The drought had been hard, and he’d tried to keep morale up. This would help.

Taylor didn’t consider this when she stormed over to her husband. She didn’t consider anything except for the extra wages she would have to pay on such a tight budget.

Should she have approached the whole scenario differently? Later, she would realise she should have. But that’s the benefit of hindsight, isn’t it?

Without that benefit, she yelled at him in earshot of everyone arriving for the morning meeting. And that fight was the end of their twenty-two-year marriage.

“Did you just hire someone?” Her voice was harder than a horse’s hoof in winter.

If she had paid attention, she may have noticed him flinch. If she had paid attention. But that’s hard to do when anger is not just in your voice, it’s raging through your veins.

“For night watch,” he said.

“We can’t afford to hire someone. I’m trying to save my family farm. We can barely afford the employees we have.”

He didn’t hear anything beyond the wordsmy family farm. At those words, the man who had only been angry a few times in twenty years, saw red. Blood rushed in his ears and to his face.

He breathed so harshly, it almost sounded like a roar, like a horse getting ready to fight. “Isabelle, Callum, me. We are your family. I’m trying to fucking saveus.”

She didn’t hear. Didn’t understand the words.

Neither of them saw the employees watching and listening. Rachel, the Foaling Unit Manager, ushered the employees into the meeting room, but they could still hear. Ciaron was talking so loud and fast sometimes they could only catch a few words, his accent so strong, uncontrolled.

Rachel was so shocked, she stared dumbly at the rest of the staff. It took her a few minutes to gain control of herself and start the meeting in Ciaron’s absence. She did a good job not being distracted by the yelling outside.

Ciaron glared at his wife with the force of months of pent-up anger. “I’ve done everything I can for our family. Enough is enough.”

He spewed out the words. All the words.

“I can’t do this anymore, Taylor. I’ve tried.” His fists clenched and unclenched. “You have no fucking respect for me or my business decisions.” He looked around wildly. His voice getting louder, almost unhinged. “You question me in front of our employees. Our family is falling apart. It takes everything I’ve got to hold it all together. And you don’t even notice because you’re too fucking busy.”

He realised she wasn’t processing his words. He grunted, months of frustration evident in the sound.

“How many times do I need to fucking tell you we need you at home?”

The blank stare said she didn’t understand what he was talking about. He threw his hands into the air.

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