Page 21 of The Black Trilogy

While the rest of the girls gawked, I collected up the buckets and headed off to the feed room. I’d long since learned to see past people’s looks and judge them on what sort of person they were, so although I freely admitted the guy could have his own calendar, I didn’t feel the need to swoon.

Before I reached my destination, my stomach let out an almighty grumble, reminding me I’d skipped breakfast in favour of five extra minutes under the duvet.

I decided to nip inside and make myself something to eat before I carried on. After all, there were enough people on duty in my barn that I felt like a spare part. The horses never got that much attention on weekdays, and some of them were looking downright confused by it.

Back in my trailer, I stuck two slices of bread in the toaster, and when they popped out, I covered them in butter and raspberry jam. Toby’s voice prattled on about the amount of saturated fat in the butter and the sugar content of the jam, but I ignored him. At least the bread was wholemeal, and I poured out a glass of orange juice to go with it. Having one of my five-a-day would offset the butter, right?

Hunger temporarily banished, I walked back towards the feed room. What were the chances of getting Portia’s brother to stop by every day so people would do all my work for me? That way, I could get an extra hour in bed.

The feed room was a converted stable, dingy because it didn’t have any windows. I flicked on the light then cursed myself politely for jumping when I found said brother sitting on a feed bin in the far corner.

“What on earth are you doing here?”

“Uh, checking my emails.” He held up his phone to prove it.

“Which requires darkness?”

“No, but…”

I thought back to the posse hanging around in the barn. “You’re hiding?”

“Yeah.” He gave a sheepish shrug. “Normally, no one comes in here.”

“I can’t really blame you.”

I’d hide too if I was like the Pied Piper for socialites and stable girls.

“So it’s okay if I stay?”

“If you want. I’ll admit I was hoping you’d stick in the barn a bit longer so your groupies would clear the cobwebs and scrub out the water drinkers, but I can see why you wouldn’t want to.”

He chuckled. “Thanks. I promise I won’t get in your way.”

The grin he flashed revealed a perfect set of white teeth. Either he had great genes or his dentist was on speed dial. They looked even lighter offset against his tan. How did he get that in winter? Holiday or tanning salon?

“What makes you think you’ll be any safer in here with me?” I asked.

“You didn’t shriek or faint.” He gave a wry laugh, but sadly there was some truth in it.

“I’m not the shrieking kind. Or fainting.”

I got on with making up the feeds, scooping the right amount of conditioning cubes and chaff into each bowl according to the chart on the wall. Then I added the supplements. The horses got so many, the shelves looked like a branch of GNC. It seemed to be a competition among the owners as to who could pump the most extras into their beloved steed. Some of them got more vitamins than food.

“Do you need a hand with those?” Portia’s brother asked as I picked up a pile of bowls to carry to the barn.

“Nah, you’ll get mobbed. Just stay here.”

He was being a gentleman, but he clearly hadn’t thought his offer through.

“Good point. You won’t tell them where I am?”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

An hour later, after Portia had ridden Samara and the group of admirers had dispersed, her brother re-materialised in the barn. As I watched the pair walk back to his car, I felt sorry for him. Sitting in a cold feed room couldn’t have been his favourite way to spend Saturday morning. Why didn’t he stay at home? Or at the gym or on the sunbed? I suspected they were both places he frequented.

“Do you want to have dinner with us?” Susie asked before she disappeared inside.

“Sounds good.” Anything was better than my own cooking.

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