The Grayson Trilogy

by Georgia Rose

  The vet arrived within half an hour and quickly assessed Monty’s condition. He diagnosed it as spasmodic colic and gave Monty a muscle relaxant, suggesting I walk him round a little longer and then, once he seemed easier, put him back in his stable and watch him to make sure he continued to improve. If he didn’t I was to call him again. I said I’d stay in the stable with Monty for the night, so he agreed to call later and see how I was getting on, and with that he left.

  Monty and I walked round for another half an hour by which time he was quite calm. After tying him to the fence I quickly straightened his bed, adding more straw to make sure it was thick, banking the sides up high. I put him back in his stable then went to get a change of rugs, and using handfuls of straw that I twisted then folded round to make into a pad, I gave him a quick rub down where he’d been sweating, before changing his rugs so he’d be warm, dry and as comfortable as possible. He was more settled already, but I watched him for a good half an hour more before quickly going over to the cottage to make myself a flask of strong coffee, then returning to the yard.

  I’d pulled on every bit of warm clothing I had but it was a cold night and I was already feeling it. Getting Regan’s spare extra-warm quilted rug from the tack room and turning out the light, I snuggled myself up inside it in the corner of Monty’s box drinking my coffee, with Susie tucked in next to me.

  It was, by this time, already past midnight. Fortunately the sky was clear and the moon bright which gave me all the light I needed to keep an eye on Monty. Unfortunately, because of the same conditions, a harsh frost came down so that by the morning it was bitingly cold. The vet had called around three and I’d reported that all was well. I’d been getting up every hour or so to check Monty hadn’t broken out in a sweat again, continuing this until about six. By then he was happily pulling at the hay in his hay net and with his appetite restored I was reassured he would now be fine. I left the stable, going to the cottage to put the kettle on, planning on making Monty a bran mash for his breakfast so as to be as gentle on his stomach as possible. Once the kettle was boiling I took it over to the yard, putting on the lights and checking the others. I was starting my routine earlier than normal which was brought home to me when I looked up to see Trent in his running sweats coming across the yard towards me.

  “Morning, you’re up early, is everything all right?” he said as he reached me, looking at me curiously as I suddenly realised I was probably dreadfully dishevelled. I tried to smooth my hair down but found I was having to remove bits of straw from it first.

  “It’s all fine now but I didn’t actually make it to bed last night,” and I explained what had happened to Monty, finishing with, “He’s okay now though, so I thought I’d get started on morning stables and plough on from there.” I glanced back at him, surprised to see that he looked furious.

  “Why the hell didn’t you call for help?” he exclaimed loudly, incredulously. “I can’t believe you’ve been out here all night on your own, anything could’ve happened to you – it’s a completely ridiculous thing to have done! Why are you so fiercely independent, Grayson? You are infuriating!” Running his hands through his hair he glared at me in exasperation.

  I could feel my anger building, fury accelerating through my veins as these words were thrown at me. I’d done everything I needed to do and I’d done a good job. Why couldn’t he see that I didn’t need anyone else’s help? As well as being furious I was also tired and emotional which was why I exploded back at him, “I’m fiercely independent, as you put it, because that’s what I’ve had to learn to be – it’s the only way I can protect myself. I don’t need anything from anyone, and I don’t want to let anyone get near enough to me to hurt me again.”

  Trent paused for a moment. I thought it was in shock at my outburst and he was looking at me in bewilderment as I stood there glaring at him, though feeling dangerously close to having angry tears cascading down my face at any moment.

  “I’d love to get my hands on whoever it was that did this to you,” he grumbled before becoming decisive. “Right, I’m calling Carlton, he can come and finish morning stables. You can finish the feeding, by which time he will be here. You are then to go, have breakfast, get cleaned up and get some sleep. I do not want any argument about it and I do not want to see you on this yard again until afternoon stables, do you understand?”

  I paused for a long moment then muttered, “I understand,” in sulky agreement. I put a quick call through to the vet to let them know Monty was fine before finishing off the feeding, watched silently by Trent. Then Carlton arrived.

  “God, you look like hell. That’s what happens, missy, if you will insist on staying up all night. If you’d spent the night with me instead, at least I’d have let you get some sleep, being the gentleman I am,” he joked, admonishing me gently, and as Trent glared at him I rolled my eyes and laughed lightly; he really couldn’t help himself and at least it eased the tension in the yard, although it seemed not between him and Trent.

  Fortunately, there was no exercising to be done, so Carlton could manage. I gave him instructions for each horse to be led out and walked round the arena for half an hour apart from Monty who was to stay in his box. Regan needed to have his legs hosed as they were slightly filled and these needed to be dried before he was put away again. Once I was satisfied Carlton could deal with all these details I headed off for some breakfast before having a very welcome shower and collapsing, gratefully, into bed.

  When I woke it was early afternoon, and on going downstairs I found lunch already made for me on the table, probably by the wonderful Mrs F, together with a bottle of champagne and a note from Cavendish and Grace thanking me for my previous night’s efforts. Well, at least they appreciated me, I thought as I put the bottle in the fridge, and then turned my attention to lunch, realising I was famished.

  I went out late afternoon to do the stables after texting Carlton to let him know I was up and to thank him for everything he’d done in the morning. I was in the middle of filling hay nets when Trent arrived.

  “Did you manage to get some sleep?” he demanded.

  “Yes thank you, I feel fine now,” I replied a little mutinously.

  “Good. Now I think it would be a good idea if we went out for a drink together sometime. Would that be all right with you?”

  I was taken aback at his directness.

  “Thanks for the invite, but I’m sorry I don’t date.”

  “I wasn’t asking you out on a date, Grayson,” he replied bluntly, and feeling myself flush with embarrassment I felt foolish – of course he wasn’t asking me out on a date, what was I thinking, how arrogant of me to think that he was.

  I closed my eyes in disbelief that I’d made such an idiot of myself, and I knew I was blushing furiously as I stammered, “S…sorry, my mistake. I just assumed…” and I trailed off, not knowing how to continue. I couldn’t even look up at him as I knew he’d be watching me steadily as always, coolly in control, and unaffected.

  “Don’t assume – not everyone wants to go out with you,” he added, unnecessarily harshly I thought. I was hoping the ground would open up beneath me and put me out of my misery but unfortunately it stubbornly remained as solid as ever as he then continued in a gentler, more conciliatory tone: “Look, we clearly have some difficulties in working together and I thought if we maybe spent some time together in a social setting we might find a way of getting along at work better. What do you think?”

  I mumbled my agreement with this, wanting the whole horrible incident to be over and as he was going to be away again for a while he said he’d call me when he knew he would be back to arrange the details.

  It was actually nearly the middle of March before he called. I’d hoped he’d forgotten all about it but sadly not. He was due back that evening and said he’d call to collect me. As it was, I heard the helicopter flying over later than expected. When he arrived at my door a short while after that he was wearing a black suit, white shirt and black tie, and wh
en I opened the door to him my mouth must have actually dropped open a little as he looked breathtakingly attractive. I quickly pulled myself together as he followed me in, apologising for being late and for not having had time to change, he then proceeded to take off his tie and undo the top button of his shirt, which had the combined effect of making him even more distracting and my kitchen suddenly far too small.

  Fortunately, I’d decided against jeans and had put on a decent pair of trousers, heels and a lightweight top, so I didn’t feel too underdressed next to him. We set off and rather than go to The Red Calf he drove us to the next village where we went into a cosy-looking pub. The bar was quiet and small with a low-beamed ceiling, the lighting subtle though enhanced with a log fire. As we entered Trent pointed to a table in the corner for me to sit at, asking, “What would you like to drink, Emma?” I was surprised at hearing him use my first name.

  “A glass of red wine, medium-dry please.”

  When he came over with the drinks, his appearing to be a pint of water, I thanked him, then once he’d sat down said, “I think you have me at a disadvantage.”

  He frowned a little, looking at me through narrowed eyes as he took a long draught from his glass before responding dryly, “Somehow I think that is highly unlikely.”

  “You know my first name, but I don’t know yours,” I clarified.

  “It’s Trent,” he replied steadily.

  “Trent Trent…a little unimaginative of your parents, don’t you think?” I teased and he sighed.

  “No, just Trent, I use one name,” he explained patiently.

  I paused for a moment. “What…like Pink?” He arched one eyebrow at me. “Or…Prince?” I pushed a little harder.

  “If you like…and you do seem to be finding it amusing,” he said, as I grinned.

  “See, we’re getting on better already. You were right, this was a good idea.”

  “Teasing me was not quite what I had in mind,” he said shortly, although he didn’t seem to be too cross about it.

  “Oh, so what did you have in mind then?”

  “I wasn’t going to launch into it straight away, thought I’d get you round the outside of a glass of wine first, try and get you to relax a bit. How’ve things been going in the yard? Is everything all right?”

  I decided to play along with him for a while so we chatted about the yard, the horses and any news I had of what had been happening on the estate, which didn’t seem to be much. A little later, when I was on my second glass, he said, “So, we don’t seem to have any difficulty in getting on in this setting do we?” I had to agree that we didn’t. “And you don’t have any difficulty in giving help and assistance to anyone who asks for it on the estate, do you?” Again, I had to agree I didn’t. “So why do you find it so difficult to ask for help, and when help is offered to you, do you so vehemently resist it?” I thought for a moment before replying.

  “If we take the recent incident with Monty being ill, I couldn’t see any point in disturbing anyone else, or for anyone else to lose a night’s sleep over something that I was quite capable of dealing with on my own. Where would the sense have been in that?” It seemed a quite reasonable and straightforward explanation to me. He considered my response for a moment.

  “The thing is, Emma, we try to have a team approach on the estate. We live in an isolated community and we aim to support each other where we can. Cavendish, Grace and I have worked hard in putting all of this together. We want everyone to be happy and integrated with everyone else so that we all know we can rely on each other, and have each other’s backs when necessary. You, however, are only fitting in one way – you’re all about the giving while not being able to accept the help and support on offer.”

  “I wasn’t aware of the setup when I came here and, having learnt to rely on no one but myself, I’d come with the intention of shutting myself away and not having to interact with other people at all,” I explained a little sulkily.

  “What…like some sort of recluse?” Trent asked, looking a little puzzled. “Why would you want to shut yourself off from everyone?”

  “I have my reasons,” I muttered rather dismissively, immediately regretting having led the conversation down this path. I didn’t want to have to start explaining my thought processes and now realised I needed to come up with something that would satisfy him. “As it turns out I’ve found that I’ve enjoyed having people around me, at least some of the time, and making new friends, and I’ve tried hard to be more accommodating.”

  At this Trent leaned forward, studying me in silence for a moment, his expression serious. I didn’t think I’d managed to satisfy his curiosity adequately after all. I was tense, holding my breath, wondering what might come next, but then while continuing to look at me he seemed to come to a decision, “Try harder.”

  I let my held breath go as I relaxed, hesitating for a moment before responding. “You know what, Trent, the day you contact me and find me compliant is the day I’ll really be in trouble.” At least he had the good grace to smile at this and relaxed back in his chair again, although he continued to study me in a way which I found a little intrusive.

  Looking for a distraction I made a point of changing the tack of our conversation by asking what sort of work he’d been up to while away but he avoided giving me any details, saying something about consultancy and that it was far too boring to be of any interest to me, and although somehow I didn’t think it would have been, clearly he was going to give me nothing.

  We’d finished our drinks by then so we left with him explaining he was going straight back to work, hence the water. I did think afterwards that I’d been more at ease with him by the end of the evening and it would be interesting to see if this would have any effect on our next confrontation.

  Chapter 12

  The cyclical passing of time brought round many anniversaries, and since losing Eva some were more difficult to deal with than others. The cruellest of them for me had always been in early April when I struggled each year to live through the memories of a time when I’d been exquisitely happy, contented and fulfilled for the first time in my life. Knowing now how easy it was to have all my hopes and dreams destroyed, it was this time that I found the hardest to survive and my change of circumstances didn’t seem to make any difference to what started to happen to me as we reached April. It had been the same every year but I’d hoped with the Easter holidays starting I’d be kept busy and buoyant by the children and this year would be different. Unfortunately, that was not to be the case as Grace told me she would be away with the children visiting relatives for most of the holiday. I’d therefore be very much alone.

  As each day passed I felt more and more vulnerable, and closer to the edge of my fragility. After only suffering a few times over the last year suddenly successive nights were broken by my recurring nightmare. Susie stayed close to me, sensing my mood as it turned darker and darker.

  I accepted the usual invitation to go out Friday evening, hoping it would prove to be a distraction. Nothing provided the relief I needed so foolishly I decided drinking would help ease my pain, feeling I might as well seek oblivion in the bottom of a glass and get a few hours’ peace.

  The pub was busy, with many of the estate staff there making it noisy, but as the evening wore on I became less and less aware of what was going on around me and more and more conscious of Carlton next to me. Late in the evening I went to get in another round. I’d already had more to drink than I should have but that was not about to stop me and as I stood at the bar trying not to look drunk I saw Trent look up at me from the other side. His initially friendly expression changed to one of disapproval as he registered my drunken state which, as it turned out, I was not managing to hide that successfully after all.

  Ignoring him I took the drinks to the table and slid back along the bench. Carlton put his arm around me, drawing me closer, and for once I didn’t move it away again – it felt good. We all spilled out of the pub a little later; Wade was drivi
ng and Carlton held my hand as we headed to the pickup, then pulled me up and onto his lap, wrapping his arms around me. I tried to say I’d get in the back but frankly not that insistently. It was much more comfortable where I was and although I generally aim to abide by the law I was clearly in the mood for throwing caution to the wind and risk getting stopped in the half-mile journey along country roads back to the estate. Okay, so perhaps I was not a great risk-taker, but it was not the only thing I was about to be reckless over.

  We pulled up outside the stables and I climbed out, followed by Carlton, who announced he was going to help me with the late watering, which sparked considerable amusement among everyone else in the pickup. We could hear their hollering even as they disappeared down the lane. I set off across the yard, over to the stables, the cold air hitting me but my face feeling warm as I let go of Carlton’s hand and we successfully topped up the water in each stable, though I seemed to be slopping more around than was really necessary. When we’d finished I reached into the feed room to turn off the lights, closing the padlock on the door.

  I turned and saw Carlton leaning up against the post-and-rail fence, watching me hungrily as he stood, quickly closing the distance between us. Putting one hand round my waist he pulled me towards him, wrapping his arms round me until I was pressed up hard against his body. Running my hands up his strong arms and leaving one hand on his shoulder I brought the other across onto his chest, where I let it rest, feeling his heart beating rapidly. He looked down at me, his eyes full of desire, and I knew that a night being fucked senseless by Carlton was exactly what I needed. One of his hands was in my hair as he brought his lips down to mine but before they met a dark voice came out of the night, speaking softly but firmly.