Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
CAT
“Easy, boy. That’s it.”
I keep my voice low and even as I edge closer to Midnight, who’s standing in the middle of Farmer Murray’s south field looking like he owns the place. The stallion’s ears flick back and forth, alert but not pinned in aggression. His obsidian coat gleams in the early evening light.
“You’ve caused quite the commotion, you know that?” I slowly reach into my pocket where I’ve stashed a handful of oats. The lead rope is looped over my shoulder, the halter dangling from my other hand. “Everyone is out looking for you.”
When Janice called to say Midnight had kicked through a weak section of fencing and bolted, she was crystal clear: “If you spot him, call me immediately. Do not approach him yourself. He’s unpredictable.”
But where’s the fun in that?
Besides, I’ve always had a way with horses. Even the difficult ones. And from the moment I first saw him being trained in the arena, something about this magnificent beast spoke to me.
Midnight tosses his head, nostrils flaring. His powerful muscles tense, and for a moment I think he might bolt again.
“I’m not here to hurt you.” I take another careful step. I’m about fifteen feet away now, close enough to see the whites of his eyes. “I’ve got something tasty, though.”
I extend my hand, palm flat with the oats nestled in the centre. Midnight’s ears prick forwards with interest, but he doesn’t move. He’s too smart for such an obvious ploy.
“Playing hard to get, are we?” I return the oats to my pocket then pull out my secret weapon—a shiny red apple. “What about this, then?”
His attention sharpens. I take a slow breath, calculating my next move. This is the tricky part. I need to get close enough to slip the halter on without spooking him, but not so close that I can’t dodge if he decides to kick.
“You remind me of someone, you know,” I continue conversationally, inching forwards. “Bit of a rebel. Doesn’t like being told what to do.”
Midnight snorts, as if to say, Damn right .
I’m ten feet away now. Eight. Six. Close enough to see the powerful rise and fall of his chest with each breath. Close enough for danger.
Suddenly a bird takes flight nearby, startling him, and he rears up, front hooves pawing at the air. My heart leaps into my throat, but instead of retreating, I stand my ground, keeping my posture relaxed even as my pulse races.
“It’s all right,” I say firmly when his hooves return to earth. “You’re fine.”
The moment stretches between us like a taut thread. Then, slowly, his posture softens. I take a careful step closer, then another, the apple extended like a peace offering.
Finally, temptation wins over caution. Midnight stretches his neck, his velvety muzzle reaching for the treat.
“That’s it,” I murmur, daring to stroke his neck while he’s distracted with his prize. His coat feels like warm silk beneath my fingertips. “You’re a handsome devil, aren’t you? Even if you are naughty.”
While he munches, I ease the halter over his nose then up behind his ears, securing it with practised movements. He twitches but doesn’t pull away, too focused on the last bits of apple.
“Gotcha,” I whisper, clipping the lead rope to the halter. “See? That wasn’t so terrible.”
The thrill of success bubbles up inside me, that little rush I’ve always loved when I take a risk and it pays off.
“Come on, then.” I give the lead a gentle tug. “Let’s get you home before Janice has a heart attack.”
* * *
“Good boy.” I reach over the door to give Midnight’s neck a pat. A faint scent of hay and leather fills the stable, mingling with the comforting rustle of horses shifting in their stalls. “You’ll behave now, won’t you?”
He snorts. I choose to interpret this response as agreement rather than mockery.
“Catriona McIntyre!” Janice’s voice cuts through the stable like a whip. I turn to find her marching towards me, her face a storm cloud of worry and exasperation. “What part of ‘do not approach him yourself’ was unclear to you?”
I offer my most winning smile. “He’s fine! Look, not a scratch on him.”
“That’s not the point.” She folds her arms across her chest. “If he’d reared or kicked while you were alone with him?—”
“But he didn’t,” I say, a white lie. “We had a moment, me and him. Sometimes you just have to trust your instincts.”
Janice sighs. “You’re lucky you’ve got a way with them,” she says eventually. She looks at Midnight, who’s now calmly munching hay, and her gaze softens. “And I am grateful that he’s back safe.”
She gives him a pat and a half-hearted scolding then we head out of the stable together. Outside, a rhythmic hammering sound draws my attention to the far end of the paddock, where a tall figure is working on the broken fence. Even from this distance, there’s no mistaking those broad shoulders or the black hair.
“Is that...?”
“Robbie MacDonald,” Janice confirms, following my gaze. “Talk about good timing. He called the other day to say if I ever needed help with odd jobs around the place, he’s available. When Midnight busted through the fence, I rang him, and he was here within the hour.”
“Interesting.” I watch Robbie drive another nail into the post. The word around Bannock is he left his role at the resort a few days ago, but no one seems to know why. It’s all very hush-hush, though that hasn’t stopped the rumour mill from churning out wild theories. Someone even suggested the police were involved. Whatever went down, as far as I’m concerned, it’s only added another layer to his bad-boy mystique. And if he’s looking for work...
“I should go thank him,” I announce, already moving towards the paddock. “For fixing the fence.”
“Cat,” Janice calls after me, a note of warning in her voice. “Don’t go stirring up trouble.”
I turn, walking backwards and flashing her my most innocent smile. “Me? Never.”
I approach Robbie with the same fearless confidence I used with Midnight earlier. He doesn’t look up as I near, too focused on measuring a replacement rail against the gap in the fence.
“Fancy seeing you here,” I say brightly.
His shoulders tense, the only indication he’s heard me. Then he reaches for another nail from the pouch at his belt.
“I was the one who found Midnight,” I continue, undeterred by his silence. “The black stallion? Janice told me to keep my distance, but let’s just say he’s not the first stubborn male I’ve won over.”
Robbie drives the nail in with one sharp blow that almost sinks it completely, then finishes it off with another for good measure. “Sounds... reckless.” His deep voice sends a shiver down my spine.
“Or brave,” I counter. “Depending on how you look at it.”
He glances up, those icy-blue eyes meeting mine for a brief moment before returning to his work. “Hmm. There’s a fine line between bravery and stupidity.”
“So I’ve been told.” I lean against the fence post next to him, close enough to catch his scent—sawdust and sweat and something distinctly masculine. “Do you like horses?” I watch as he reaches for another rail then positions the wood. His hands are large and capable, with calluses that speak of years of physical work.
“Don’t have much of an opinion one way or the other.”
“Really? No opinion on creatures that are strong, wild, and impossible to ignore?” I look him up and down. “Thought they’d be right up your alley.”
His grip on the hammer tightens. “Did you need something?”
“Just making conversation.” I shift closer to him, watching as he lines up another nail. “So, what’s the deal with you not working at the resort anymore?”
The hammer freezes mid-swing, and the temperature between us seems to drop several degrees.
“Not something I’m discussing.” His tone is low and controlled but with an edge to it.
Retreating, however, has never been my style, especially when it comes to things—or people—that set my pulse skittering.
“I’m just curious. Must be weird, leaving a place your own father manages.”
The hammer comes down with enough force to make me jump. Robbie straightens to his full height, towering over me.
“Unless there’s something I can help you with,” he says tightly, “I’d rather push on with this in silence.”
Perfect opening.
“Actually, there is something you could help me with. As I told you the other day, my flat is in need of renovation, and I hear you’re looking for work at the moment. Perfect timing, eh?”
He raises a sceptical eyebrow, his silver piercing catching the light. “Oh aye? And what would your eldest brother think about me hanging around your flat?”
The question triggers a flash of memory. Fifteen-year-old Ally stumbling through the front door of the hotel, blood streaming from his nose. Maw fussing over him with an ice pack while he cursed Robbie MacDonald. The two of them were always at each other’s throats back then.
“He needn’t know,” I say with a coy smile. If anything, the thought of Ally’s disapproval only makes the idea more appealing. After all, the forbidden fruit always looks sweeter... especially when it comes with tattoos. “Besides, I’m a grown woman. I can hire whoever I want.”
Robbie studies me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “Would you talk to me as much as you are now? Because if so, I’d need to double my rate.”
“Humph!” I place my hands on my hips, feigning offence. “I actually have a job to go to. I’m an English teacher at the high school, and the new term starts tomorrow. So I’ll be leaving you in peace most of the time.”
He considers, his eyes scanning my face as if searching for some hidden catch. “I can swing round tomorrow evening,” he offers eventually. “See what needs to be done and give you a quote?”
“Oh, I’m actually going to the Pheasant after work tomorrow for the pub quiz. How about Tuesday?”
“That works for me. What’s the address?”
I give it to him. “It’s above the Otter’s Holt gift shop.”
“Right.” He nods then turns back to the fence. Apparently, our conversation is over.
“Great! I’ll see you Tuesday, then. Looking forward to it.”
Robbie just grunts.
I head back to the stables, smiling to myself like an idiot. True, I don’t have a great deal of money in my bank account at the moment, but there’s no harm in getting a quote, right? And if it means having Robbie MacDonald in my flat—with those muscles and tattoos and that delicious grumpiness—well, that’s just a bonus.
Besides, maybe I’ll even find out what really happened at the resort. There’s definitely a story there, and if there’s one thing I love almost as much as a well-built man with a nipple piercing, it’s a good mystery.