James nods acknowledgement. “Yes, it needs care. But I'll go with her every time. And Eleanor sent a side-saddle for Charlotte to use for a while, until she's back in shape again.”

Charlotte turns a puzzled frown on him. “You’ll come with me? But…”

“Go inside.” Michael nods her indoors. “You’ve not seen it all yet.”

Charlotte unbolts the lower half of the door, clicking her tongue. “Back-up, Charlie.” The bay-roan mare reverses, letting everyone through, but shoves her nose firmly against Charlotte’s chest.

And there, at the back of the stable, up to his knees in clean straw, is another horse, a white gelding; much bigger than Charlie, heavily-built, but with a mild eye and manner. He snickers as we enter, his ears pricking forward.

Charlotte blinks.

James produces a carrot, then another, passing one to Charlotte. His own he offers to the gelding. “Meet Oliver. He’s Charlie’s son. He’s here to keep Charlie company and for me to ride with you.” Charlotte’s jaw drops.

There is something about seeing joy in another person. It’s infectious. It rubs off. Next to me, Ryan is smiling broadly.

Richard is positively beaming. “By the way, Charlotte, your Christmas gift from me and Elizabeth is the saddle and tack…”

She throws herself at him, streaming tears. Richard wraps arms around her, patting her back. He kisses her cheek. “Happy Christmas, Charlotte. You deserve it.”

Ryan, standing close behind me, winds an arm around my waist, pulling me in close, then slips his gloved hand into mine. His cheek resting by mine, he murmurs, “So Charlotte has her white horse then?”

For a moment I don’t understand him, then I remember…

That conversation we had, the very first night we met.

“So, no dreams of white horses then?”

“White horses?”

shining armour, come to carry you off for happily-ever-afters

I laugh. “Not me.”

charger, come to carry me away. Yes, he was there all the time, wasn’t he?

crying and smiling and tearful and joyful… surrounded by those who love her, it comes to

with complete clarity, I see

around, turning to face Ryan. His forehead wrinkles as I hook arms up around his neck, reaching for his lips with

my gloves to release stiff fingers, I grope into my

a moment, I simply look at it in my palm: a small plastic ring. Cheap and tawdry, gilt

it to me, with

be breathing. His fingertips touch

slip the ring onto my left hand, fourth finger. “Yes, I

face lights up, his smile spreading

“I will.”

Michael’s voice. I turn to see him punching the air. “Congratulations!

protest. She runs to me,

both stride forward, arms outstretched, competing to

“Congratulations, Kirstie,” he says in a quiet voice. “I’m pleased for

“What about you?”

“Oh, I’m pleased for me,

Mom.” She scuttles back to her horse, hugging her head and kissing her on the nose.

*****

in the house, Mitch greets the news with the same enthusiasm as everyone else, giving me a

swatting at Richard’s hand when he tries to stop her. “I can stand,” she mutters. “James, Michael. Crack the champagne. And some of that elderflower fizz

“Coming right up.”

surrounded by, almost

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255