Chapter 3
Chapter Three
T he steady beat of Pluto’s hooves on the compacted earth was like a drum, a hypnotic rhythm as we cantered along through the dappled sunlight illuminating the woodland, my mind free of everything but the breeze on my face and the evocative floral scent of wildflowers in early summer. This was me-time, time to be free of the pressures of work, time to be present, in the moment, enjoying all that was offered in this gloriously beautiful part of England, my worries melting away. Escaping the hold Jonathan had had on me was the best thing I’d ever done. My life had settled into a new normal, my resolve hardening to my forced spinsterhood, even if embracing the dramatic U-turn in my career aspirations had been a tougher pill to swallow. But it had definitely been a relief to come home and release myself from the shitstorm that had been the last few months.
I let out a contented sigh and patted Pluto’s neck gratefully.
“Good boy, steady now.” I applied a touch of pressure on the rein, sitting up a little in the saddle to encourage him to slow as we turned the corner of the bridleway we were following. It was wonderful and peaceful and cathartic.
But then, just like that, all hell broke loose.
Pluto screeched to a halt and swerved violently to the right as a mountain biker came careering off the bank straight towards us, accompanied by a string of expletives. And before I knew what was happening, I was sailing through the air like a missile, heading for certain destruction into the ditch in front of me. A loud bang, like a gunshot, resounded as my inflatable body protector went off, and Pluto and I parted company to the dramatic sounds of someone groaning (me), and someone else continuing to swear (the bike-riding bringer of doom, I assumed).
Eyes screwed tightly shut, my body encased in the suffocating vice of my fully inflated air jacket, I lay still for a moment, surrounded by wild garlic and lightly perfumed flowers. My backside, meanwhile, simultaneously squelched into a soft bit of ground, mud oozing right through to my underwear.
Lovely.
“Shit, are you ok? I am so sorry. I didn’t see you there.”
How anyone could miss a five hundred kilogram, predominantly white animal travelling at about twenty-five miles an hour was beyond me, but, you know, a lot of people were really unobservant. Like this dickhead, clearly.
“Is my horse ok?” I whispered, my body contorted and partially hidden by the undergrowth, and from my depressed position in the ditch I could see very little other than the tree canopy above. I squeezed my eyes shut again.
“Erm, how would I know?” The voice was male, uncertain.
“Can you see him?”
“Yes.”
“Is he standing up?”
“Yes.” The voice was growing in confidence with these easy-to-answer questions.
“Has he got all four feet on the ground?”
“Yes.” This time the voice was triumphant, like he’d just scored a win on University Challenge .
“So, none of his limbs are waving in the air or dangling loosely or look weird?” I tried, upping the difficulty level slightly.
“Er, nope?” Uncertainty had crept back in.
“What’s he doing?” I was starting to get some feeling back now as the air jacket slowly deflated.
“Erm, he looks like he’s eating the hedge.” A pause. “Is that a good sign?”
“Yes. Can you see any blood on him?”
There was another tension-filled pause. “Nope.” The voice had gone a bit trembly.
This all sounded promising and I began moving my arms and legs, one at a time, to check my own body for broken bones. I was subconsciously aware that the man was now leaning over me, quite closely, but I kept my eyes tightly shut, concentrating on my own body inventory. I knew that if I looked at him, I was probably going to launch into a strongly worded diatribe and I needed my full breath back before I could do it with any kind of conviction.
“Can you open your eyes?”
Reluctantly, I cracked my eyelids open a fraction and squinted up into the shadowed face of quite a tall man in a cycling helmet, backlit by the sun and crouching on the edge of the shallow ditch. Gingerly, I carried on testing each of my limbs with my hands. Everything seemed to be moving and reacting as it should – no weird tingly feelings or absence of vital appendages – so I started to sit up and grunted in discomfort.
“Woah, wait. Are you ok?” Large, warm hands reached for my shoulders, clasping the tops of my arms firmly. “Should you be sitting up? Do I need to call an ambulance?”
“I’m fine, honestly. No need for an ambulance.” I began undoing the toggles of the air jacket and its torso-crushing hold on my body lessened, so that I was finally able to breathe normally again.
Looking up and out of my position in the ditch, I could see Pluto was eating the hedge nearby, just as goddamn Evel Knievel here had said, and seemed totally fine. My horse was watching me with faint equine interest between munches, as if to say, Not sure what you’re doing down there, lady, but I’ll be all right snacking here until you’re ready to go home.
Smiling at my goofy horse – I really did love him – I took off my riding hat and glanced over at the cause of this untimely dismount. He was stooping over me, concern etched on his face. His oddly familiar face. His gorgeous, infuriating face. His bloody-hell-you’re-a-blast-from-the-past face. His I-really-hoped-I’d-never-see-you-again face.
Shit.
I groaned in despair. No, this could not actually be happening.
“Are you ok?” he repeated, leaning down towards me and touching my shoulder gently, staring into my eyes.
“Yes, I’m fine.” I wasn’t going to acknowledge him if he didn’t know who I was. This could be ok. I could get away anonymously and he’d be none the wiser. All fine and dandy, dignity intact. Hoo-bloody-ray.
“Hannah Havens?” A hint of stunned disbelief coloured the tone of his voice.
Bugger.
“Yes, hello, Teddy Fraser,” I replied, cringing, before muttering sarcastically, “Fancy, quite literally, running into you today.”
“Oh my God,” he whispered and rocked back on his heels, studying me intently.
“Right, well, since we’re both uninjured, I’ll be going.”
Uncomfortable with his scrutiny, I started to get to my feet, a wave of dizziness causing me to pitch forward and stumble into Teddy, but his hands caught me easily, holding me briefly against his chest. Christ, he seemed so much broader and more potent than I remembered at school, the muscles of his arms bulging as he righted me before ducking his head down to look into my face.
“Hannah, I think I should take you to hospital,” he said in a gravelly voice, running his hands down my arms and lacing his fingers with mine.
“That won’t be necessary. I’m fine.” I pulled away from him, his proximity and tenderness causing a ripple of unwelcome desire to course through me. My libido already annoyingly optimistic at this most basic of touches.
Teddy stood up and stepped back in contemplation, a frown on his face. “Are you far from home?”
“No, the stables are about ten minutes away.”
“Right, well, I’m accompanying you back there,” he said, his tone allowing no room for negotiation.
I snorted. “Who are you and what have you done with the smug, self-centred guy I went to school with?”
He raised an eyebrow and chewed his lip thoughtfully, before muttering, “I can be chivalrous too, just like Henry, you know.”
For a moment we stared at each other, a strange crackling intensity to the air. Charged particles seemed to be zipping between us, invisible protons of weirdness that were holding me captive in his gaze, until with exaggerated annoyance, I plonked my riding hat back on my head and stalked over to Pluto. His reins were broken, but otherwise he was unscathed and I was grateful for that. Taking a few calming breaths, I hung onto his reassuring bulk and familiarity, grounding myself by pressing my nose into his soft grey coat and inhaling the comforting aroma of horse.
Meanwhile, Teddy had disappeared into the undergrowth and was retrieving his bike from a particularly vicious-looking patch of brambles. When he reappeared, I noticed a trickle of blood running down his leg where his baggy shorts were now fairly tattered, exposing an indecent amount of thigh, which I had to make a conscious effort not to ogle.
Overactive libido be gone, what the hell are you thinking, Hannah?
But nothing looked as tragic as his poor, crumpled bike. The front wheel was no longer round – more sort of D-shaped – the front forks horribly bent, frame a little twisted, and he stared forlornly down at the mangled wreckage.
“Can it be fixed?” I asked.
Glancing up, he sighed and shook his head slightly. “I think it might be toast.”
“Oh.” I felt a little sad for him, then remembered that he had been hurtling down a steep bank at speed, and I felt my eyebrows knitting together in consternation. “Maybe you’ll be a little more careful with your next bike.”
Teddy scowled in response. “You were going at quite some rate yourself, Hannah. I had to take pretty evasive action not to hit you or your horse.”
I glared. He glared. Pluto munched happily on some sticky grass that was stuck to Teddy’s T-shirt, oblivious to the glare-off going on next to him.
“Is this yours by the way?” he asked, holding up a bent horseshoe and I looked down to see only three of Pluto’s feet still appropriately shod.
Well, isn’t that bloody fantastic.
“Yes, thank you,” I said, snatching it from his hands.
“You’re welcome.” Lifting up the front of his bike onto its back wheel, he started to push it along. “Which way are the stables?”
Grumbling, I reluctantly pointed down the hill and set off after him, definitely not watching the muscles of his back and arms flexing as he marched off ahead of me.
Nope. No siree. Most definitely not.