Hot Revenge Box Set 2

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?”

to carry you

I laugh. “Not me.”

his embrace, resting my head against his. “My knight on his white charger, come to carry me away. Yes, he was there all the time, wasn’t

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

clarity, I see

around his

my gloves to release stiff fingers, I grope into my pocket, seeking what I know is

I simply look at it in my palm:

it to me, with

not to be breathing. His

my left hand, fourth

his smile

“I will.”

I turn to see him punching

to me, flinging her

arms outstretched, competing

slight smile. “Congratulations, Kirstie,” he says in a

“What about you?”

quirk. “Oh, I’m pleased for me,

“We have to tell Beth and Mom.” She scuttles back to her horse, hugging her

*****

Mitch greets the news with the same enthusiasm as

tries to stop her. “I can stand,” she mutters. “James, Michael. Crack the champagne. And some of that elderflower

“Coming right up.”

surrounded by, almost immersed