Page 17 of Growing Into Love

“Cass, that’s terrible,” she says. “What does that mean for the competition?”

Cass’s brushes away the tears that continue to fall. “She can’t come, obviously. But Windy Acres has an insane number of rules, one of which is that they require every rider to come with a trainer. No trainer means I can’t go. She said she could recommend some people but…” She slumps forward, her head in her hands. “They won’t know me, or my style, or Gal. I’ll probably have to pay them through the nose since it’s so last minute. Oh god. Why did this have to happen?”

She looks up and our eyes meet. I’m overcome with the sense of time stopping, of seconds elongating into minutes as I take in Cass’s tortured expression, her proud features twisted in pain. I want to help her. I want to show her that someone at this table believes in her.

“I’ll go with you,” I blurt out.

The offer hangs in the air between us and my heart plummets. Why did I saythat?

Her eyes widen. Her lips part.

“That’s a great idea!” Autumn exclaims.

“Yes,” May agrees. “Jaz would be a perfect replacement. He’s good with horses. Gal loves him.”

“You can’t come,” Cass says and her voice trembles. “You’ve got too much work here.”

“I can look after Hart’s Crossing for the week,” Clive pipes up.

“Good lad,” Charles says.

“Are you sure?” I ask Clive.

He rolls his eyes. “Jaz, this is what you brought me on to do. It’s no trouble.”

I glance at Declan. What will he think about me heading to America with his little sister for a week? Declan has that look he gets sometimes, like he’s trying to solve a complicated maths problem.

“Suppose that could work,” he says slowly.

If there’s one thing that could guarantee Cass accepting my offer, it’s Declan acting like it’s his decision to make.

“I don’t need your permission, Declan. Neither does Jaz.” She glares at me. “Fine. I’ll get them to transfer Del’s ticket. Flight’s tomorrow afternoon.” She tosses her napkin on her plate and stands. “I’m off to check on Naturally.”

She storms out of the room, leaving a bemused silence in her wake.

FIVE

CASS

I’m fumingas I head to the barn.

Who does Declan think he is? I’m sick of his sanctimonious bullshit. But I thought someone else at the table would speak up in my defense. I thought maybe my grandparents would say they believed in me, and my sanctuary, and that I could really win at Windy Acres.

But no one said a thing.

Except Jaz.

I can’t believe he offered to come to the competition. And I agreed! I must be a masochist. Though it wasn’t like I could say the reason why I’m resistant to the idea. Imagine telling Grampsno Jaz can’t come because I accidentally sexted him last night and now I’d like to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment.

But Gran is right—Jaz is a much better option for a substitute than a total stranger. And Gal adores him.

I stop outside the barn and rest my head against the cool wood. I’ll lose for sure now. How am I meant to focus on the competition with Jaz there? Damn Windy Acres and their rules. If I don’t bring a trainer, I can’t compete.

But hiring someone last minute will have my already tense nerves snapping into pieces. More tears spill down my cheeks and I brush them away angrily. I haven’t got time for tears.

I wrench the barn door open with a growl. If this had happened two days earlier, it might have been me suggesting he come. I’d be all fluttery and excited by the prospect of spending so much time alone with him. Now the thought fills me with dread. Clearly, he sees me just the way Declan does—forever a kid sister.

I wonder what Mum would say if she were here. She’d support the sanctuary, I’m sure of it. Declan is being as stubborn as Dad. Dad had a giant stick up his backside about Oak Hill, and keeping it exactly the same, and honoring our ancestors and all that bollocks. Probably why Declan has always felt the crushing pressure to keep it successful. My brothers had polar opposite relationships with our father. Declan was the golden child. Virgil was the black sheep.

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