Page 88 of Someone For Everyone

Apparently, Bernard was owned by the neighbouring farmer and carried out highly prestigious jobs such as pulling a trap through the village so the farmer’s wife could water the hanging baskets.

‘Besides, how hard can it be to ride a horse?’ Rowan yelled, causing Kate to turn and glare at him.

‘I guess I’m about to find out,’ she said, steadying herself, ready to mount the blessed thing.

She must be out of her tiny mind to be doing this. If it was anyone other than Calvin, she wouldn’t be. But the idea of him being hurt sent pure dread coursing through her. It couldn’t be good for his heart condition to be out in this cold.

Leaning forwards, she lifted her leg and hauled herself onto the animal.

It wasn’t the most graceful manoeuvre she’d ever performed. Her face was buried in the horse’s knotted mane and her bum was poking in the air – although, to be fair, she couldn’t imagine Bernard was enjoying the situation any more than she was. One moment he’d been tucked up in his stable, wrapped in a blanket and eating oats, the next he was standing in the freezing cold being mounted by a woman who knew more about nuclear science than she did about horse riding.

She pushed herself upright. ‘And you’re sure the farmer is okay about us taking him?’

‘He was fine,’ Natalie said, refusing to make eye contact, which didn’t bode well. ‘Now, remember what I said about pulling on the reins. Don’t tug too hard, he’ll know what direction you want him to go. He’s an old hand.’ She handed Kate the reins. ‘Ready?’

Kate drew in a shaky breath. ‘As I’ll ever be.’

‘Good luck!’ Esme waved as if Kate was heading off to battle. ‘Find my boy!’

Rowan crossed his heart. ‘And don’t get lost! Those spirits are a ruthless bunch!’

Helpful.

‘I’ll be fine!’ Kate yelled, squeezing her feet like Natalie had demonstrated. ‘I’ll be back before you know it.’ Assuming she didn’t freeze to death, get thrown off the horse or get run down by ethereal beings. And to think she’d considered facing bankruptcy a challenge.

With no saddle, Kate had to rely on balance and her inner thigh muscles to keep her upright – attributes not currently included in her CV.

Thankfully, Bernard walked steadily down the driveway and onto the lane with little input from her. The further they travelled, the quieter and darker it became. It was as if the snow had covered the landscape with a giant white blanket, blocking out all noise and movement. It was impossible to see where the lane ended and the woodland began. The trees were so still, it was like they were painted onto the skyline, their bony branches silhouetted against the purple backdrop like splayed fingers.

Despite wearing several layers of clothing, she was freezing. It was like her face had been anaesthetised. She’d lost all feeling in her nose and cheeks, and her teeth rattled comically, like something from a cartoon. But she wasn’t about to let her discomfort detract from her mission of finding Calvin.

A sudden noise in the woods startled her. Gripping Bernard’s mane, she wondered if she was about to encounter another loadof woodland screaming and manic birds threatening to peck her eyes out. But when the noise came again, she realised it was just a fox crying.

As they approached Fright Corner, she searched for the Highwayman’s tree, imagining the sight of his body pinned to the trunk, impaled by a sword, but it was impossible see anything when it was covered in snow. Just as well, really. She wasn’t sure her nerves could cope with encountering a wayward ghost.

And then she saw it. A shadow in the distance. The outline of a lonesome figure staggering down the middle of the lane. Logic dictated the figure was human and very much alive, but it didn’t prevent her mind from fleetingly wondering if it was a ghost. The Highwayman, perhaps? Or the monk, searching for his lost love? It was neither. As the figure drew closer, she realised it was Calvin.

‘Oh, thank God,’ she said, tugging Bernard to a halt. ‘You’re not dead, then.’

Calvin stopped walking and stared up at her, as if not quite sure what he was seeing. ‘Bloody hell, why are you on a horse?’

‘I’ve come to your rescue,’ she said, with a mock salute. ‘I appreciate I’m not a gallant knight on a magnificent steed, but a solicitor mounted on a moth-eaten shire horse, but this was all we could come up with at short notice.’ She patted the horse’s neck. ‘No offence, Bernard.’

Calvin blinked up at her. ‘Have you been drinking?’

‘Not yet – I suspect I will be later. I’ll need something to thaw my digits, which are in danger of dropping off.’ She smiled down at him, relieved to find him in one piece. He was wearing his familiar thick padded jacket over a hoodie, his baseball cap covering his mass of hair. ‘Are you ready to be rescued? In case you haven’t noticed, it’s pickin’ freezing out here.’

He looked confused. ‘Why would you think I needed rescuing?’

‘You’ve been gone hours, it’s getting dark and you weren’t answering your phone. Esme assumed you were lying in a ditch somewhere.’

‘Dramatic.’ His eye-roll was visible even in the darkness. ‘The delivery van was held up due to the bad weather, so the butcher didn’t have our order ready. I would’ve called, but I had no phone signal. I didn’t think anyone would miss me yet.’

‘Well, they did.’ She noticed the thick rope tied around his middle and attached to a wooden crate. ‘What’s that?’

He glanced behind. ‘Makeshift sledge. I had no idea Geraldine had ordered such a huge turkey, as well as joints of beef and gammon, and forty pigs-in-blankets, so carrying it wasn’t an option. The butcher gave me this old crate to use. It works, but it’s slow going.’

‘I can imagine.’ She noticed his slumped shoulders. ‘You look weary.’

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