by Loki Renard
“It’s seven o’clock,” she protested. “It’s way too early to go to bed.”
“Bed. Marnie. Now.”
She opened her mouth to protest again, but thought better of it. If Sam wanted her out of his way, she’d give him his space. He was probably stressed as hell with everything going on, needing to do the books and stuff. She got up and scurried upstairs.
* * *
Sam really wasn’t happy that Marnie had found out his financial position. His aunt and uncle had unfortunately let the place go to ruin as they got older and their business had suffered over the last few years, but the bones were good. The horses were good. And tourism was picking up since the quakes, seeing as Christchurch wasn’t exactly a huge draw in the broken city. If he had a good season, he could turn things around… that’s what he was telling himself, anyway.
Objectively, the truth was things were bad and getting worse. The season was off to a slow start and without more hands to help, he couldn’t run as many treks as he needed to. Marnie wasn’t ready to take anybody out on her own, and probably wouldn’t be this season. But that wasn’t what he was most worried about now. The business was one thing. Marnie was another.
The expression on her face when he’d caught her had been guilty, but he’d seen something else in her eyes—pity. He really didn’t want her pity. And he didn’t want her thinking he couldn’t take care of things. Like her.
The last week had been good. He’d managed to keep himself in check and give her some space. She’d settled down as well. They were starting to get to know one another properly. He’d been hoping that there would be a chance of a real relationship between them, one that wasn’t entirely based on raw sexual attraction and poor impulse control. But now she knew he was in financial dire straits and if Sam knew anything about women, he knew that things were probably over between them.
Girls didn’t want broke guys. Especially city girls like Marnie.
* * *
Sam was gruff the next morning. He barely looked at her, and spoke to her only when necessary. He barked orders at her, and looked like he’d barely slept a wink. Ordinarily, she would snap at him or try to wind him up, but knowing what she now knew, she decided to cut him some slack. The amount of pressure he must be under would be immense.
If she was honest with herself, her choice to keep quiet and endure Sam’s grumpiness was more about self-preservation than any act of consideration on her part. She knew his patience would be at an all-time low now that she knew about his financial situation and she definitely didn’t want him taking his frustrations out on her butt. He did that enough without her provoking him.
As soon as the morning chores were done, he grouchily informed her that they were going for a ride up into the mountains, and she should start getting Taxi saddled up.
Marnie was proud of how quickly she’d learned to work with the horses. She was confident enough now to go out to the paddock and catch Taxi, put on his halter and bring him in, tie him up, fill his hay net, brush him down, pick out his feet, and saddle him up. All by herself. In just a week.
“You’ll need a breastplate and crupper,” he told her. “They’re necessary pieces of equipment for high country riding; they’ll stop the saddle slipping.”
Marnie looked at him blankly. What the hell was he talking about? She’d thought she pretty much had the horsey lingo down pat, but those things sounded entirely foreign to her. She swallowed, discouraged. She’d thought she’d been doing so well, but reality had hit again, showing her just how much she still needed to learn to be useful here. How was she going to be of any help to Sam if she couldn’t get her head around all the stuff there was to do?
Patiently, but without his usual energy and vigour, Sam showed her what a breastplate was, what it did, how to put it on, and explained why it was needed. He did the same with the crupper. Because the two new items were both integral pieces of equipment, it turned out that Sam saddled up Taxi all by himself, while she just stood there, watching. She felt entirely useless. The whole time Sam brushed Fred and saddled him up, Marnie waited by Taxi, pouting, totally crestfallen. She was useless. How was she going to help Sam save his business if she was too useless to help? More important, why did she even care?
They left the barn in a totally different direction than they normally did, heading to the mountains, along a trail she’d never noticed before. It led away from the buildings on an angle, into a native beech forest where the air was cooler and the tree canopy provided a natural, shady relief from the hot sun, alive with birdsong. The air was different in here, cleaner, crisper, earthier. She liked it. She’d never been the outdoorsy type before, and had much preferred the beach to the bush. But this was nice.
It didn’t take too long for the track to start climbing. The incline was gradual at first but got steeper as they went on, winding between tree trunks, the trail so narrow in places that she had to press her knees hard in against Taxi’s sides to avoid them being scraped on the rough bark. Birds took off suddenly, the sudden cacophony of wings and squawks made her jump, startled. In front of her, Fred stiffened, but Taxi didn’t seem at all bothered, he just ambled along, stopping just before he crashed into Fred. Because she wasn’t paying attention, the sudden stop jolted her body forward slightly, nearly unseating her, and she cried out in surprise.
Sam turned in his saddle. “You okay?”
Grasping Taxi’s mane with both hands, Marnie nodded. “Yeah. Taxi just stopped suddenly and I wasn’t ready, that’s all.” Just saying it, she felt stupid. How many people nearly fell off their horse at a walk? At this rate, she’d never be any good to Sam.
Just then, Sam got Fred moving again and they continued up the trail. She noticed the streaming sunshine at the same time she realized the trees were thinning out and giving way to rocky ground and the occasional tussock. Taxi rocked from side to side as he dodged boulders partially blocking the trail, and stepped over fallen sticks. She gripped his mane tightly in her fingers, clutching the reins with one hand. Once she got used to the different step and relaxed into the saddle, letting her hips rock with Taxi’s movements, she really enjoyed the ride. They were pretty high up here and the view was spectacular. They were in the foothills of the Southern Alps and the mountain range was all she could see off to her right. But to her left, she could see right out to the sea at Kaikoura, across the rugged farmland, hills, trees, the river that meandered through the farm was directly below them… she was mesmerized. She pulled up briefly, just so she could stare. Wow! In every direction, the view took her breath away.
“Pretty cool, huh?”
She hadn’t realized Sam had stopped as well, but of course he had; the lack of hoof beats behind him would have alerted him to the fact that Taxi had stopped moving.
“It’s gorgeous,” she breathed.
“Yep. One of my favourite places in the world. I can ride this track every day in the height of summer and never get tired of it.” Sam’s voice was proud, but there was a dejected demeanour about him as well. “Well, let’s get going,” he ordered, sounding much cheerier.
The trail levelled out a bit for a while, then started to climb steeply again, the rugged track bordered by jagged rocks and the uneven surface lined with tree roots. Again, Taxi’s plodding motion turned bouncier as he carefully placed his feet.
Sam momentarily disappeared from sight as he rounded the sharp corner hidden by a cliff. Taxi sped up the slightest bit, breathing a bit more heavily now from the exertion. He kept so close to the cliff that her stirrup brushed against the rock.
“Uh, Sam?” she squeaked, panicking. To the right, there was a sheer drop-off, and to the left was a rock wall. The only way to go was up, on the narrow, steep, winding dirt track.
Sam twisted in his saddle to look back at her. “Just trust your horse,” he told her calmly. “He’s done this plenty of times before and he’s not going to fall off. Relax into the saddle, loosen your reins a bit, hold onto the mane instead. You’re doin
g fine.” There was an unmistakeable note of approval in his voice and Marnie swelled with pride. She’d been expecting derision, condescension, even a growling for being so frightened, so the encouragement was a nice surprise.
“This is challenging terrain we’re on,” Sam continued. “It’s tricky riding. You’re doing really well.”
Sam looked so natural in the saddle. And up here, he seemed right at home, like he belonged. Looking down scared her, so she focused on Sam’s back instead. Sweat dampened his shirt, making the thin cotton cling to his muscular frame. Even Fred’s massive size failed to dwarf Sam’s broad shoulders. She imagined running her hands across those wide shoulders, down his arms, and trailing her fingers downward while Sam wrapped those muscular arms around her. What would it be like to be riding with him, her chest pressed against his back, her pelvis rocking against his? She imagined him stopping the horses on a secluded part of the trail, under the shade of a big tree perhaps, and lifting her down, holding her in his arms, against his rock-hard body, and kissing her hungrily.
It seemed to take forever for the trail to widen again, level out, and move away from the dizzyingly close edge of the cliff. The rocky track opened up to flatter grassland dotted with clumps of mountain tussock. Once again, the scenery was spectacular.
Marnie relaxed. There was a companionable silence between them, the only sound the blowing of the horses and the rhythm of their hooves, along with the occasional squeak as the saddle shifted slightly. It was beautiful country up here. It felt like the wilderness. Now that she thought about it, compared to the city she’d grown up in and barely left, it was the wilderness. And now that she’d experienced it, she didn’t want to ever leave.
“Thirsty?”
She took the drink bottle Sam held out to her and skulled gratefully. Water had never tasted so good. Somehow, the alpine air made it fresher and sweeter than it usually did, and she drank greedily.
They hopped off the horses and sat down in the grass, letting the horses graze for a bit. It was so peaceful up here and it was easy to believe that she and Sam were the only people in the world.
Marnie lay back in the grass, watching the clouds drift lazily across the sky. She hadn’t felt this relaxed in… well, ever. She could easily imagine spending the summer up here, on horseback, sharing with Sam this place he clearly loved so much.
Riding back down didn’t seem to take anywhere near as long as riding up. They took a different trail down, one that didn’t wind along cliff faces with terrifying drops off to the side. Beech forest, mainly, opening out to grassy patches here and there, before going back into forest again. Most of it was fairly steep, but none of it made her feel like she was dicing with death.
Taxi plodded happily along behind Fred and Marnie relaxed, totally enjoying herself. Right now, it didn’t matter that she was a complete novice. Right now, all that mattered was that she was having fun.
Her stomach rumbled. Must be lunchtime.
“We’re not far from home now,” Sam called.
Marnie felt herself blush, mortified. Sam had heard!
Sure enough, just over the slight rise, there was the barn in the distance. Taxi pricked his ears forward and picked up the pace, his sedate plod turning into a more enthusiastic, striding walk as the barn drew nearer. Marnie was surprised Taxi still had the energy to come so close to breaking into a run, after climbing those high country trails. He was obviously much fitter than he looked. If she had been the one doing the climbing, she would have died long ago. Hiking had never been one of her hobbies.
Sam jumped off Fred and tied him up. He glanced at his watch.
“Unsaddle both of them and give them a good brush down,” he commanded. “I’ve got a call to make.”
Marnie had never really done much with Fred before, but as she fiddled with all the buckles, trying to figure out how everything came off with all the unfamiliar equipment, he just stood there contentedly, unmoving, munching on the hay in his net. He was no different to Taxi, really, he was just bigger.
Sam took ages. Marnie had both horses unsaddled and brushed down and was absently kicking at a stone with her shoe when Sam finally appeared, his face grim. Without a word, he untied Fred and led him toward his paddock, motioning for Marnie to follow with Taxi.
A knot formed in the pit of her stomach. This was not good. Had Sam been talking to the bank? Was it bad? Was she going to have to leave? But she liked it here, dammit! She liked it, and she didn’t want to leave. Not when she was finally getting used to it.
At first, when she’d been so far out of her comfort zone and terrified, she couldn’t think of anything worse than working with horses, and the cantankerous man who was her boss. But now… now she couldn’t think of anything worse than leaving her cantankerous boss behind and being forced back to the still-rocking city she once considered home but no longer wanted to live in.
She had to do something.
Chapter Eight
Marnie was sitting cross-legged on her bed when she heard heavy footsteps on the stairs. She had been expecting to hear from Sam sooner or later. It had been a week since their conversation in the kitchen, and she had ignored him when he said to leave the matter alone. Of course, she hadn’t told him she was planning on doing something. There was no point arguing with Sam. Easier to go about her duties with the horses, keep her head down, and hope that when he figured out what she’d done, he wouldn’t be too mad.
“Marnie!”
Sam boomed her name at the top of the stairs. He sounded pretty mad. She took a deep breath as he came striding into the room, a piece of paper in his hand, his teeth gritted at her. “Did you pay the mortgage?”
“What?” Marnie widened her eyes and spoke with a high lilting voice that she hoped would transmit innocence.
“Don’t play dumb with me, little girl,” he growled. “I just got a notification that we’re up to date on our payments. Thirty thousand dollars was paid in two days ago!”
Most people would have been pleased to find their late payments made for them, but there was tension in every part of Sam’s body, his hard frame locked with frustration. She shrank away from him a little and put an ingratiating smile on her face.
“Well, you bought me these jeans,” she said, smoothing her hands over her pants. “I wanted to do something for you too.”
“Since when do you have money?”
“Well. Uhm, I didn’t, but my grandma’s inheritance for me came through,” she said. “And I talked to Magda and I said I’d been talking to you about investing and she gave me the account number, so I…”
“Spent your entire inheritance on late payments for a failing business?”
“It wasn’t my entire inheritance,” Marnie said with a little eye roll. “I’ve still got a couple grand left. And it’s not a failing business. It was just in a little trouble. And now it’s not. I fixed it!”
“It’s not in a little trouble, Marnie. It’s…” He shook his head, his teeth gritting as he emitted a little growl. “You should have talked to me first.”
“I couldn’t talk to you. You would have said no.”
“Damn right I would have said no,” he said, throwing the paper to the side. “I would have told you that you’re my employee…”
“And that it’s not my problem, and that I shouldn’t worry, or help or do anything. That I should just sit here and eat your food and let you buy me stuff and not make any kind of a difference.” She stood up, getting into his space. “Sam, I know what it’s like to lose everything. I know that money is just the start. I know we’re going to have to work hard. I know there’s no guarantees, but I’m going to try anyway.”
He looked down at her, his expression confused, and impressed, and stern. “Why would you care?”
“Because,” she scowled at him. “I happen to like this place. I lost one home. I’m not losing another one.”
“You like this place? Since when?”
“Shut up,” she frowned. “I don’
t have to explain myself to you. I’m helping you and that’s the end of it.”
It wasn’t a terribly good way to say what she was trying to say, and it didn’t go down particularly well. Sam was already riled. He didn’t need much more of a reason to take her to task.
Marnie let out a squeal as he grabbed her by the arm and yanked her over to the bed. Sitting down, he pulled her over his thighs and his hand met her jean-clad ass with a hard whack that made her yelp in pain. She wasn’t surprised. Sam’s answer for literally everything was to spank her.
“You don’t tell me to shut up, Marnie,” he growled. “You don’t disrespect me. You don’t damn well pay off my debts either. Little girl, you have overstepped your boundaries by a good long way.”
“I wanted to help you!”
“You were helping me, by working with the horses and helping with the treks.”
“It wasn’t enough! You were never going to make that money up! You should be thanking me! At least you’re not behind now!”
His hand came down more softly and rested on her ass.
“I know you meant to do something good, Marnie, but I didn’t…” He took a deep breath. “I’m probably going to have to sell this place.”
“What? No!”
“The house needs renovations that will cost thousands, and Magda took out a second mortgage a year or so before I took over. The payments on that are killing this business. Right now, property prices are as high as they’ve ever been. This place is worth far more sold to someone else than it is under my care.”
No. This couldn’t be happening. She wouldn’t let it happen. Marnie started to squirm and wriggle. “Let me up, Sam!”
He released her and she sat up next to him, looking into his eyes with desperation as she felt her stomach twist. “You can’t sell this place.”
“I’ve already gotten an offer,” he said. “There’s a farming corporation looking to expand their intensive dairying business. They’ve offered enough to pay Magda out, cover the mortgage, and maybe leave enough over for me to pick up a five-acre lifestyle block somewhere.”