Heart of the Valley

by Cathryn Hein

  ‘What accident?’

  ‘Brooke’s accident.’ Angus stared at him and clocking Lachie’s blank look raised his eyes to the sky. ‘Mark didn’t tell you, did he?’ He rubbed his hand through his hair, making it stand up on end. ‘Fuck.’

  For the second time since his arrival, Lachie’s nerves hummed with alarm. He should have known this job was too good to be true. ‘I don’t know anything about an accident,’ he said carefully.

  With a sigh, Angus crossed his arms and leaned against the rail, shaking his head. ‘Sometimes my brother’s such a prick.’ He cleared his throat and focused on Lachie. ‘But that’s not your problem. Look, the reason you have this job is because Brooke had an accident towing the gooseneck with three of her horses on board. One was killed, Poddy here lost his right eye and fractured his tarsal bone, and Sod – he’s the horse back at the yard – is a wreck. Unfortunately, so’s Brooke.’

  Lachie didn’t like where this was heading. To keep calm he stroked Poddy’s cheek but the horse sensed his anxiety and moved away to nudge at Angus. Venus took his place, bunting her woolly head against Lachie’s hand for attention. He tangled his fingers in her thick forelock and rubbed.

  ‘So what’s her problem?’

  ‘She’s developed a phobia about floating the horses. According to her it’s just temporary and she’ll get over it, but it’s been four months now and she still can’t tow anything. Not even Venus here. It wouldn’t matter, only it’s caused issues for the yard. We can only send long-termers here now because it’s such a pain getting the horses back to Sydney. Everything else goes to a contract spelling property at Penrith, which costs money, obviously. It’s driving Mark mad that this place is being underutilised.’ He rubbed at his head again, as though revealing all this made him uncomfortable. ‘Mum’s worried sick about Brooke, understandably, and wants her home where she can get help. Mark feigns concern but I know he thinks Brooke should either pull her weight or get herself a proper job instead of leeching off the business. Between the two of them, they convinced Dad she’d be better off in Sydney. So now you’re on the payroll and poor bloody Brooke’s been given her marching orders.’

  ‘Which she refuses to obey.’

  ‘Yeah.’ He stroked Poddy’s nose. ‘Don’t blame her, either. She loves this place. It’s her home. And despite what my idiot brother thinks, she does a good job of running it.’

  Lachlan whistled for Billy and picked him up, needing the comfort of his wriggly body. Brooke might be a spoilt brat but no one deserved to be booted out of the place they loved.

  When Mark had phoned him telling him he had a job available and he couldn’t think of anyone more qualified for it, Lachie leapt at the chance. Not for a single moment did he consider the vacancy might have been the result of a family argument. All he saw was a job that provided him with the means to support himself and Nick while his brother completed his science and teaching degree. A chance to put his own degree to use and hone his skills, ready for the day when his obstinate father finally came to his senses and gave him the run of Delamere.

  ‘So she’s not exactly happy about my presence.’

  Angus tossed him an apologetic look. ‘No.’

  Lachie pursed his lips and nodded. ‘I’ll try to keep out of her way.’ Although how he was supposed to do that on a property this small he didn’t know, and given the circumstances she’d likely spend all day spying on him, double-checking his work.

  ‘Look, I’m sure she’ll be all right once she gets used to it. Anyway, as I said, if Mark and Mum get their way she won’t be here for much longer.’

  Billy squirmed in his arms. He placed him back down. Immediately the terrier tore into the grass, nose down, tail up and wagging furiously as he chased whatever had caught his attention. Lachie let him be. He had ground rules to sort out.

  ‘Just so I’m clear, I don’t answer to her.’

  Angus grinned. ‘Jesus, no. And don’t let her think you do, either. No, you talk to Mark or me and if neither of us is available, contact Dad. But given Mark pays your wages he’s technically your boss. Just keep in mind he doesn’t know that much about farming or managing this place. The person who knows the most about it is Brooke. She’s been running around Kingston Downs since she was in nappies. Much to Mum’s annoyance.’

  Lachie frowned. He was sure Mark had told him Kingston Downs originally belonged to his grandparents. ‘So this was your parents’ property?’

  ‘No, my grandparents’, but Brooke spent every weekend and every holiday here she could. Moved in permanently the moment she finished school and took over management four years ago when Nan and Pop retired to Port Douglas.’ He pushed off from the rail. ‘Come on. She should be back from wherever she went by now.’

  They hopped back into the car. As he drove, Lachie stared through the windscreen wondering what the hell he’d caught himself up in. He’d been here barely an hour and already he felt snagged in the Kingstons’ undertow.

  Annoyance settled its fat backside on his mood. He was irritated with himself for not sensing any problem before, but Mark had acted as if nothing was wrong and he’d stupidly believed him. So much for their friendship, although friendship was probably stretching it. If the truth be known, they’d been not much more than rugby teammates at university. Mark wasn’t the sort of man to develop close friendships. A good bloke and not a bad five-eighth when he was on form, but stand-offish.

  ‘Don’t worry, you’ll like her. Everyone does,’ Angus said, interrupting his thoughts. ‘She’s good fun.’

  Somehow, Lachie didn’t think that’d be the case for him, but he said nothing. Silence, he’d learned, was usually the best response in these situations.

  Angus glanced at him and back at the road. ‘Mark mentioned you play rugby.’

  ‘Don’t mind a game, but I doubt I’ll have time for it. Seems like there’s plenty to keep me busy here.’

  ‘You never know. The Pitcorthie team’s always short, so even if you could only manage a game every few weeks, they’d be happy to sign you up. Ask Nate at the pub if you’re keen.’

  He pulled up next to the yards. The dark-brown horse was gone from its enclosure. As they stepped out of the ute, a slim girl in checked, suede-seated riding breeches and a dark-blue jumper with hay caught in the knit led a saddled and heavily booted Sod from the barn. She stopped and regarded them warily, messy bob swinging around her heart-shaped face. The horse raised a hoof and pawed at the ground before bunting her in the head with its nose.

  One glance and Lachlan knew he’d imagined her perfectly. No question, Brooke Kingston possessed the look he knew too well. Blemish-free skin, shiny, perfectly cut – albeit untidy – hair, and the haughty bearing of a person who considered herself better than him. She stared back with eyes the colour and clarity of aged cognac, which widened, as everyone’s did, when they took in his size. Lachie stood 195 centimetres in his socks, with shoulders like an axeman and legs muscled from hard work and sport. People stared, women especially, and normally he took it in his stride, but something about Brooke Kingston’s gaze, the way her lips parted as she slowly raked the length of his body, made him tense. It reminded him of Tamsyn, and look where that landed him. Dumped and broken-hearted, that’s where.

  Angus kissed her cheek. ‘Hey, Brooke.’

  ‘I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.’

  ‘I thought Mark called.’

  She shook her head, a sudden expression of distress flicking across her features before flattening to thin-lipped composure.

  Angus gave her shoulder a squeeze. ‘It’ll be all right, I promise,’ he said softly before turning aside to introduce Lachie. ‘This is Lachlan Cambridge.’

  He held his hand out. ‘Nice to meet you.’

  As she reached forward to shake it, the horse snaked its neck forward, huge teeth bared and snapping. Lachie jerked back just in time, leaving the animal’s teeth clenching only air. ‘Shit!’

  She batted the horse away. ‘
Sorry. This is Sod, who likes to live up to his name.’ Giving the horse another push on the nose, she held out her hand again.

  He eyed the horse and then took it, surprised at the firmness of her grip. As he let go, Billy gave a yap. He nodded at the dog. ‘This is Billy.’

  She eyed the terrier and then him, a slight smile quirking her mouth. Immediately he felt defensive. So Billy wasn’t a collie or kelpie, but he was a good dog and better than that savage horse.

  To his surprise she crouched down and reached out for Billy, who wagged his tail in greeting before flopping onto his back to have his belly scratched. Laughing, she obliged, tickling his side until his leg beat crazily and his little body writhed from side to side in ecstasy.

  ‘Cute,’ she said, standing, and for a brief moment her smile made her very pretty, the sort of girl he’d look twice at if he saw her in the street or a bar. Then the wariness returned, and her lips compressed once more. She turned to her brother. ‘Are you staying?’

  Angus shook his head. ‘I need to get back. We’ve five runners at Randwick tomorrow.’

  She bit her lip. ‘Maybe come up to the dairy for a cuppa? When you’ve finished with the manager.’

  The manager.

  That thumped him back to earth. He should have remembered girls like her didn’t associate with the hired help. Angus led her away, speaking quietly. Lachie turned aside, shoved his hands into his pockets and surveyed the drive, wondering if he shouldn’t collect his stuff and get the hell out of there.

  Except where would he go? Not Delamere, and he couldn’t face going back to more labouring. He was a qualified agronomist, but he knew from experience good jobs were hard to come by. Plus he had Nick to think of. Lachie didn’t want to see him struggle like he had at uni, trying to balance work and study and barely succeeding at either.

  Nope, he was staying, whether Brooke Kingston liked it or not.

  A clatter of hoofs caught his attention. Brooke sat on Sod’s back, staring at her brother with her mouth turned down.

  Angus put his hand to her knee and rubbed. ‘I’m on your side. Remember that.’

  She nodded and after casting a resentful glance at Lachie, urged Sod forward.

  Angus walked to Lachie’s side as she rode into the dressage arena, the horse tossing its head as though in a temper. ‘Sorry. She’s a bit upset.’

  ‘Must be hard for her.’

  ‘Yeah.’ He kept his focus on his sister. ‘Poor bugger hasn’t been the same since the accident. She keeps insisting she’s fine but I worry about her. We all do.’

  Lachie nodded. He knew what it was like to worry about family. Not a day passed when he didn’t fret about Nick or his mother. Sometimes, when he managed to push his anger and disappointment aside, he even worried about his father.

  ‘Listen,’ said Angus, facing him, his expression serious. ‘Would you keep an eye on her for me? I know she keeps trying to drive the float, but it always ends up in some sort of panic attack.’

  Lachie held up his hands as if to ward off the request. Angus seemed like a good bloke and he wasn’t averse to helping out, but Lachie’s degree was in agriculture, not psychology. He’d be more likely to make things worse than better. ‘Look, I’m sorry, but I don’t know the first thing about that sort of stuff.’

  ‘You don’t need to. All she needs is a bit of support. Someone to tell her nothing’s going to go wrong.’ He stared back at Brooke. ‘I’d help her myself but I’m rarely here. And it’s not something you can do over the phone.’

  Lachie followed his gaze. Brooke eased Sod into a canter, the two flowing around the arena as if they were melted together. She brought him back to a halt before easing straight into a canter again, the horse moving as though directed by some invisible button. To his untrained eye they looked magnificent, like the horses at the Olympics. Muscles stood out on Sod’s powerful hindquarters, his clipped, dark-brown coat glossy with good health. He held his neck arched, his body compressed, as if Brooke held him wound up like a tight spring.

  ‘What about professional help?’

  ‘She won’t accept it. Besides, that’d probably mean moving to Sydney and Brooke’s relying on the old saying that “possession’s nine-tenths of the law”, which is why she’s staying put.’ He smiled. ‘My sister always did have a stubborn streak.’

  Lachie suppressed a sigh. Stubborn. Great. All that told him was Brooke Kingston wasn’t going anywhere in a hurry.

  He cast around, suddenly realising Billy had disappeared. Unthinking, he whistled loudly for the dog. Billy raised his head from the foliage on the other side of the arena and, responding to the command as he’d been trained, broke into a sprint. Releasing a high-pitched yip, he bounded out of the grass, jumped the low white rail and in a streak of white, hurtled straight across the arena and into Sod’s path. Startled, the horse skittered to the side, the whites of his eyes showing as he tossed his head and fought the tight grip on his reins. As Brooke cast a filthy look Lachie’s way Sod wrenched at the bit, snatching a length of rein, then dropped his head and in a spectacular display of temper, released a furious series of bucks.

  And to Lachie’s utter horror, Brooke didn’t last the distance.

  Four

  Brooke couldn’t tell if it was the bitter wind, pain or humiliation causing the tears in her eyes, but of one thing she was certain – the new manager’s idiocy had caused her unceremonious dumping, and heart-flipping good looks or not, she wasn’t about to forgive him for it.

  She scrambled to her knees as Angus pounded across the sand. The last thing she needed was more of his sympathy. Today had proven hellish enough.

  He knelt down next to her, concern darkening his blue-grey eyes. ‘You right?’

  She nodded. A lump the size of a fist blocked her throat and threatened more tears. She gripped his arm and hauled herself up, hunting for Sod. Lachlan had him, the reins held tight under the horse’s chin. Sod shook his head furiously, but Lachlan shook the reins with equal aggression and ordered him to cut his nonsense. To her surprise, Sod regarded the man for a moment before pressing his head against Lachlan’s shoulder and rubbing hard.

  Rotten, traitorous horse. She couldn’t even trust him to take a piece out of her enemy. Although, given the size of the new manager, perhaps Sod was right to exercise restraint. The man was built like a colossus.

  She dusted her backside, Angus still holding her arm and fixing her with a sympathetic look, the one that made her want to crawl away and hide. Andrew had regarded her the same way only that morning, when she’d collapsed out of his truck, falling to her knees as she gulped in air, fighting the awful terror that sucked all the oxygen from her lungs, heightened her pulse to an impossible rate and made her head feel as though it had broken from her body and floated into the clouds.

  ‘You can let go now. I’m fine,’ she said to Angus as Lachlan approached. The manager’s gaze swept slowly over her face and body, assessing her with gold-flecked hazel eyes surrounded by luscious dark lashes and a sober expression. Although there was nothing sexual about his appraisal, the intensity of it was such that she had a weird urge to cross her arms in front of her chest.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, holding out Sod’s reins. ‘It won’t happen again, I promise.’

  And she knew from his voice and the formal way he held himself that it wouldn’t. Lachlan Cambridge possessed the straight-gazed focus of a man whose word mattered. She took the reins, looking away, disconcerted by the way he studied her. Billy sat by his master’s feet, staring at her with equal intensity. Everyone appeared to be waiting for her to say something.

  Why couldn’t she laugh? Why did this stupid ache keep gripping her throat? She should be dusting herself off and leaping back into the saddle instead of standing there gormlessly, like a pathetic child. She’d never been pathetic in her life. Yet that’s the way people looked at her these days, like someone to be pitied.

  Or worse, taken advantage of.

  She swallowed and d
ug at her courage, returning her attention to him. ‘Make sure it doesn’t. Sod’s a valuable horse. He could have injured himself.’

  ‘And so could you,’ said Angus, initial sympathy giving way to anger. ‘Where the fuck’s your helmet?’

  ‘I was only riding in the ménage.’

  ‘So what? You still could have hurt yourself. You of all people know how dangerous riding can be. Remember Scott? You want to end up like him?’

  ‘Scott was an accident.’ A terrible, tragic riding accident that left Angus’s best friend damaged forever.

  ‘And so was Sod dumping you just then. Wear your fucking helmet.’ Shaking his head, he let out a long frustrated breath. ‘You’ve given me enough to worry about without adding this.’

  ‘Don’t, Gus,’ she said. ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘You’re not and you know it.’

  She threw a glance at Lachlan, standing steady and silent with Sod, one hand stroking the horse’s nose as he watched the exchange. Her hand crept to her wrist. She rubbed the special pressure point, willing her anxiety away. No doubt he’d be on the phone to Mark the moment Angus left, relaying all that had happened. How she wasn’t looking after herself. How she still wasn’t coping. How she needed help. Knowing Mark, he probably made spying on her a condition of Lachlan’s employment.

  She straightened her shoulders. ‘I am fine. All I need is to be left alone.’

  Taking Sod from Lachlan, she led him a short distance away and checked his gear, while Angus stomped off to fetch her helmet.

  He handed it to her with an annoyed shake of his head. ‘Wear the bloody thing, will you?’

  Grudgingly, she plonked it on and fastened the straps. She knew she should wear a helmet, and her parents would have a fit if they found out she didn’t, but she adored the rush of air through her hair as she rode, the sensation of freedom and oneness with her horse. There was something almost primitive about it, and it was a feeling she never wanted to lose. Time with her animals was precious. The accident had taught her that well.