Page 148 of The Black Trilogy

Dan: He blames himself.

Crazy, because only one man could have stopped what happened, and he was getting to know his new cellmate right now. For a second, the delusional part of me considered hopping on my plane and flying back to tell Luke not to be so hard on himself, but I soon put that idea out of my mind. I hadn’t forgotten the look of disgust on his face when he found out I’d lied to him about my true identity. Hoping to slot back into the life I had with him was nothing more than a pipe dream.

Watching my husband die then seeing a bullet come within inches of Luke’s head had brought home how short life could be. And now I had the choice of wasting mine or making the most of the remaining tatters. My crushed heart wanted to embrace the darkness but logic overruled, and I climbed out of bed as dawn broke the next morning to go for an early ride on Stan.

Being out on a horse at that time in the morning always felt magical. I changed into jeans and left the house, arming the security system before I took the short walk down to the stables where Stan lived with Dustin’s old mare.

When I’d bought Stan as a half-starved mess in Spain, I could have kept him in the stable block next door, but instead I treated it as an excuse to have the old barn on my land renovated. I delegated that task to Bradley, and with his usual efficiency, he’d got the project finished by the time Stan was well enough to travel to his new home.

I should have known better.

As I’d been busy overseas, I’d given Bradley free rein to remodel in the way he thought best, and while he didn’t know much about horses, he knew a whole lot about decorating and even more about shopping. The day I returned, he loaded me into a golf buggy before I had a chance to unpack and took me to see his masterpiece.

“What the…?”

My ramshackle barn had disappeared, replaced by a caricature of a Spanish villa.

Bradley stuck a sombrero on my head and tugged at my hand. “Come look inside.”

It may have been six degrees Celsius out, but two steps over the threshold I stripped off my sweater.

“Why on earth is it so hot?”

He beamed at me. “Central heating. There’s a solarium at the end as well so Stan gets a proper dose of rays all year round.”

I did a three-sixty, taking in the eight-foot high mural of a clichéd Andalusian village and the artificial beach. Stan was happily ensconced in his new stable, munching hay and watching Spanish-language television.

“You realise he’s a horse, right?”

“I wanted him to feel at home.”

At least Stan wasn’t French. Otherwise, I’d have returned to find a scale model of the Eiffel Tower planted in a vineyard.

The pseudo-villa had grown on me over the years, and Stan gave me a dirty look when I turned off the TV and led him outside into the cool Virginia winter. I gave him a quick brush before I went to fetch his tack. As I came back with the saddle and bridle, Dustin pulled up in his pickup truck and unfolded himself from behind the steering wheel, face impassive as always. My dog, Lucy, bounded out after him, hurtling over as fast as her legs could carry her when she realised I’d come home.

I braced for impact, but even then only narrowly avoided landing on my bottom. A fully grown Doberman weighs a lot. Lucy was supposed to be a guard dog, but at that moment she was bouncing around like a demented puppy.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Dustin drawled.

“Good to see you too. Have the animals been okay?”

“All fit and well. Lucy’s been staying with me.”

“I hoped she would be. Thanks for looking after them.”

“Just doing my job, lady. Are you taking Lucy out with you this morning? She could do with a good run.”

“Yes, she looks like she needs one.”

Stan, Lucy, and I set off across the pasture, walking at first, but I urged Stan into a gallop once he’d stretched his legs. The wind tearing through my hair made me forget about the mountains of poop in my life, albeit briefly. Nothing mattered but the thud of Stan’s hooves on the turf and Lucy panting as she raced along behind us, well, nothing apart from hanging on as Stan put in a couple of massive bucks out of sheer exuberance. At the far end of the grass, we waited for Lucy to catch up before taking a meander through the forest that reached all the way to the edge of my land.

Tendrils of mist lingered between the trees, and in the stillness, I could almost imagine we were the only three souls left on Earth. Sticky buds showed the trees would soon burst into leaf—new life and new hope in a world of gloom. Of course, Lucy shattered the illusion by shooting off after a rabbit, and Stan spooked as a deer jumped out of the bushes in front of us.

So much for a relaxing jaunt.

We made it back to the barn in one piece, just in time for Stan to watch his favourite Spanish chat show on EstrellaTV, and I decided to give him a good groom because it was calming for both of us. How lovely to be looking after my own horse after spending weeks working in a stable in England caring for other people’s. I combed out his mane and tail then bent to brush his legs as he snuffled at my pockets for treats.

Then my phone fell out of my pocket and hit the deck.

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