‘Don’t you worry they’ll hurt each other?’ Pippa asked, concerned.
‘They’re only playing. The bully on the far left is Astolat,’ Jack said pointing at a big dark bay horse who was snapping his teeth at his companion. ‘And that at the back is Peace Offering.’
Pippa noticed he almost sounded resigned as he identified the smaller, slighter-looking bay happily bringing up the rear. Pippa felt a strange feeling of excitement as she was introduced to her new horses. Her horses. It did feel terribly grand, especially as they were racehorses. And this year’s Derby winner is Peace Offering, owned by Pippa Taylor. It had a certain ring to it, Pippa thought, although she was a bit hazy about race names. Her uncle had been a fan of jump racing or National Hunt racing, and so far as she could recall, the Derby didn’t have any jumps in it. And this year’s Grand National winner is Peace Offering, owned by Pippa Taylor. That sounded better.
Jack frowned at her smug smile and reached forward to stroke Peace Offering on the nose. Pippa hung back, pushing her hair behind her ear with a nervous hand. Jack’s furrowed brow softened.
‘Come pat Peace Offering. He won’t bite.’
Pippa remembered those snapping yellow teeth as they’d galloped towards them and hesitated further.
‘I can see them okay from here, thanks,’ she said with an anxious smile.
‘He’s an old softie. Come on.’ Taking her hand, he guided her forward and placed her palm beneath his onto the horse’s long bony nose. ‘See?’
For a moment, Pippa was only aware of the heat radiating from his hand as it engulfed hers. Then her attention became engrossed as she looked in wonder at the horse. His big kind eyes fringed with long sweeping eyelashes and the white stripe that spilt down from his forehead to his nostrils made him so pretty, thought Pippa. As if he had been a plain-coloured horse who had had its makeup done.
‘He’s beautiful,’ she murmured.
‘Maybe I shouldn’t have shown them to you,’ he said, releasing her hand. ‘You don’t want to get attached when you’re about to sell them.’
Pippa let her fingers trace the delicate contours of the horse’s nose, between his velveteen nostrils. She smiled as his whiskers tickled her palm before letting her hand drop. She nodded.
‘I know,’ she sighed. ‘He’s so pretty though, I’m sure he’ll sell well.’
‘I wouldn’t be too sure about that.’
‘Why? Isn’t he very fast?’
‘Quite simply, no. Astolat is half-decent at least.’
‘That’s a pity. Never mind, I’m sure someone will see that he’s a sweetheart.’
Jack gave a small snort of derision.
‘I’ve got to get a move on. Are you travelling back up to London tonight?’
‘No, I’ve got to go see a house – or a cottage, I’m not sure which yet, that used to be Uncle Dave’s.’
‘More inheritance?’
‘Something like that. Although they told me not to expect too much. Apparently, it’s a bit of a shambles. I’m sure it can’t be as bad as all that though.’
‘Good luck,’ Jack said, sounding more doubtful than sincere.
‘Thank you,’ Pippa replied sweetly. ‘Nice to meet you Peace Offering. Nice to meet you Astolat.’
Jack rolled his eyes and began to walk away. Pippa skipped after him back onto the main path.
‘Thank you for showing them to me.’
‘My pleasure,’ he replied, sounding like it was anything but. ‘I’ll have Gemma give you the details about the sale next month.’
‘Who’s Gemma?’
‘My secretary.’
‘Oh, okay. Thanks.’ She shot a rueful last glance at the horses still milling by the fence behind them and sighed. ‘It’s such a pity.’
‘What is?’ Jack looked at her suspiciously.
‘Having to sell them.’
His blue eyes narrowed.
‘You having second thoughts?’
Pippa shrugged.
‘Can’t afford to have second thoughts. But wouldn’t it have been fun?’
‘You’re better off without them.’
Half a stride behind him, Pippa frowned at the negative attitude radiating from the unyielding set to his shoulders.
‘Don’t you train horses for a living?’
Jack looked at her sharply.
‘Yes. Why?’
‘Well, you don’t sound like their biggest fan.’
‘I’m just being realistic. You could never afford two racehorses on a waitress’ salary.’
Despite having said much the same less than a minute before, Pippa raised her chin involuntarily in a stubborn stance.
Is that right, sunshine? she challenged silently.
At Long Odds Page 32