A Roll in the Hay Page 7

  “Now, don’t be like that. Bitter doesn’t look good on you, Tessie. I just didn’t want you to hear it from our friends first.”

  “I don’t talk to our friends, remember?” Tess took the turning for the first farm she was visiting, relieved she would soon have an excuse to hang up. “You saw to that when you turned them all against me, even though you were the one who cheated and almost ruined our business without telling me.”

  “Oh, here we go again.” Caroline sighed. “I know being single can be such a drag, but you have to look on it as an opportunity.”

  “Who said I was single?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “Did you think I moved halfway across the country to be on my own?” Uh oh. Where the hell did that come from? Tess was well aware of her flaws, but she wasn’t generally a liar. She stopped the car when the track widened into a parking area. “Anyway, it’s new, and I don’t really want to talk about it to everyone yet.”

  “Oh, come on. Details please. Assuming she’s even real,” Caroline scoffed. “I mean, talk about convenient timing.”

  “I’m not that bothered about keeping up with you, and it’s not like I’m engaged to her or anything. We are having a very nice time, though.”

  “And her name?”

  “Susannah. Well, of course you don’t know her,” Tess said, wondering where in the hell that name just came from. No, of course, it was perfectly rational. It was just because everyone at work had been talking about Lady Karlson all day. Besides, Margo’s name was no use because she and Caroline had met. Joan sounded like an old woman’s name, and Babs sounded entirely made up. “But we’re just seeing where it goes for now.”

  “Susann-ah?”

  “That’s…what I said.” Tess was blushing redder than the checks on her plaid shirt. “Anyway, I’ve just arrived at a farm. Work to do!”

  “Right, right. Wouldn’t want to keep you from frolicking in a meadow or whatever you get up to there. Anyway, if you feel up to it, you can always pop down for the wedding. I always think it’s healthier when exes do that. Real closure, you know?”

  Tess glared at the phone. It was getting harder to remember why she ever liked Caroline in the first place, let alone loved her. “Yeah, sure. Shoot me an invitation. Gotta go!”

  She ended the call and hit her head against the steering wheel a couple of times. What was wrong with her lately? Maybe moving into her own place would set her right again, get a bit of stability back.

  With one last bang of her head for good luck, Tess accidentally sounded the horn. It sent birds scattering from a nearby tree and startled the old farmer who was walking towards the car. Not a great start.

  She grabbed her bag and jumped out. Time to turn the day around.

  Chapter 6

  After a jam-packed morning, Susannah decided on an indulgent afternoon ride to clear her head. Billie Jean was no trouble to saddle up and get going, having one of the sweetest dispositions that Susannah had ever been around.

  “Come on, girl,” Susannah urged her horse as they got back on the flats on the far west of the estate. There was nothing much out this way, just a meandering route to the old Edinburgh road that nobody used much anymore, and a few scattered farms that weren’t part of the estate. Maybe it was time to reach out again, buy them out and keep the families on as tenants. It was something Jimmy had talked about, and it was certainly possible without derailing her own plans. Or maybe it was time to accept that she had enough on her plate instead of looking for trouble.

  Billie Jean ate up the easy ground with her long strides, and Susannah bobbed in a perfect rhythm with her. The breeze was whip-fast and crisp as it came at Susannah, a refreshing smack in the face when her waning attention levels needed it most. The sun had struggled out from behind the clouds, and it made all the difference to the rolling greenery that expanded in every direction. This was the place Susannah had fallen in love with.

  The ground became patchier as they skirted the edge of the farthest field from the house, marked with a big red boundary line on all the maps up in the office.

  “Whoa, bring it down,” Susannah urged, tugging on Billie Jean’s reins to slow her to a brisk canter. “Don’t want you overdoing it. We need to go back too, remember?”

  As always, the horse responded like she understood English perfectly. There was never any need to tell her twice or override any willful attempts to do the opposite. It was only as they approached the next gate that the poor girl slowed down without prompting, almost limping to a stop.

  Panicked, Susannah slid right out of the saddle, landing hard on her feet. Her first priority was lightening the load if Billie Jean was in any pain.

  “What’s up, Billie?”

  The horse whinnied softly, but that didn’t tell Susannah much of anything. Patting gently, Susannah made her way from one side, up around Billie’s head and back down the other. Checking the fetlocks, she swore under her breath about the mansplaining vet. If anything, Billie Jean was favouring one of her front legs, the hoof hovering just above the grass.

  “Let’s get you some help, hmm? Stay here for me, okay?”

  The reins looped around the gatepost probably weren’t necessary, but Susannah knew that injured horses were more prone to being spooked or acting erratically. She pulled out her phone only to be greeted with a complete lack of signal.

  Great. Just great.

  Surveying her options, Susannah reckoned the nearest farmhouse was a safer bet than wandering around trying to get reception on her phone. There were cars in the drive, a couple of bodies moving around in a field with the cows, so some kind of help was at hand. It was really just across the road and a bit of a jog from here.

  “I won’t move you just in case.” Susannah pressed her face against Billie Jean’s muzzle. “You stay here, old girl, and I’ll bring us help.”

  She took one last look, trying to reassure herself the leg wasn’t broken. Although there had been so many advances, a bad break was still a death sentence for a horse, especially one who’d been ridden hard for racing. There was no way of telling how much damage Billie Jean was already carrying, but Susannah couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. The horse might just have been her closest friend, apart from Finn. That was sadder than she wanted to consider.

  It only took a few minutes to get to the cars, and Susannah’s stomach plummeted as she recognised the sporty SUV. Of all the vets in all the world…

  She couldn’t even turn back now, because Tess and the farmer who owned the land were almost back at the cars too. They must have cut back across as Susannah had been heading up the long path.

  “You here alone?” Susannah asked Tess, and it came out much too haughty. Damn it. She was never going to quite get the hang of being one of the people at this rate. Most times she didn’t overly care, but it mattered when it was Billie Jean’s health on the line.

  “Excuse me, Mr Framingham. I think Lady Karlson here wants a word with me.” Tess drew out the “lady” to at least four syllables, all of them mocking.

  “Your Ladyship.” Mr Framingham doffed his dirty baseball cap, bowing low with a reprimanding glance at Tess for not doing the same, leaving Susannah faintly embarrassed. Usually she didn’t notice little things like that, but being around this blasted vet felt like being under a microscope.

  “All right, all right,” Susannah said. “Listen, I happen to have a horse gone lame on me in the field down there.” She gestured, aware that her arm was flailing a little. “I need a vet, and I haven’t got even a bar of signal. I’m sure you can see my predicament.”

  “Well, she’s all done with me for now,” Mr Framingham said, offering Tess up like a bouquet of flowers he didn’t want. “But we’ll be seeing you soon, Dr Robinson. Thanks for your help with that calf. I’ve never seen it handled with so little fuss. I’ll be telling the boys about you when we go for a p
int on Friday, you mark my words.”

  “Any time.” Tess shook his hand, and he ambled off.

  “So, you can be professional, then?” Straight to bitchy again. Susannah needed to give herself a good shake sometimes.

  “With a paying customer, yes. He’s joining the practice, unlike some people. Why don’t you go up to his house and call your big swanky vet company? Since I’m much too small time for you, Your Ladyship. Is that the correct term of address, by the way? Should I curtsey?”

  Susannah wondered if it still counted as a curtsey should she shove Tess face-first into the muck to help her on her way. Shaking her head, she forced the focus back where it belonged: on her injured horse. “Susannah is fine. Lady Karlson, if you absolutely must. The curtsey won’t be necessary, but I have a horse limping that I really don’t want to have put down. If you’re up for it now, then I’ll do whatever you want to make up for the past…rejection. Name your price.”

  Tess sighed. It was as though she was offended at the very mention of money, when she was the one who brought up paying customers first.

  “All right, let’s go. What’s this horse of yours called?” She took her vet bag and strode off in the right direction.

  Susannah scrambled a little to keep up with Tess. It wasn’t often anyone outpaced her, so it was impressive and irritating in turn. Tess really was quite solid in that country sort of way. Her jeans weren’t the skinny kind Susannah preferred but the sensible and durable sort, with plenty of pockets down the side before they disappeared into a new-looking set of green Hunter wellies. A classic, at least. Topped off with a red-and-navy checked shirt and a wax jacket, with that ubiquitous ponytail, Tess looked almost presentable. There was a term for it that Finn mentioned not so long ago. Lumberjane? It was definitely in that region.

  “The horse?” Susannah repeated, realizing she hadn’t answered yet. “Oh, right. Billie Jean.”

  “Is not your lover?” Tess replied, slowing her pace just enough that Susannah didn’t feel she was pushing herself to keep up.

  “Sorry, what?”

  “Ah, thought you were a Michael Jackson fan,” Tess replied. “You know, like the song?”

  Susannah shook her head again. “No, she’s named after the tennis player. My late husband had a thing for Wimbledon. It’s silly.”

  “Kind of cute, actually. You won’t believe some of the names we come across in a vet practice. I think my favourite so far is Voldetort. Oh,” Tess said as Susannah stared, uncomprehending, “he was a tortoise. That’s a Harry Potter reference. You’re really not into pop culture, huh?”

  They didn’t say anything more until they reached the gate where Billie Jean was waiting with her trademark patience.

  Susannah reached out to reassure her before they did anything else. “Here she is,” she said when she knew Billie Jean was settled. “She’s a good filly, you know.”

  “You’re a grand dame, that’s what you are, Billie Jean,” Tess said, and it had none of the mockery she’d lavished on Susannah’s title. Whatever her other flaws, Tess Robinson clearly knew a fine horse when she saw one. “You might be even posher than your owner here, thoroughbred like you.”

  Susannah wasn’t sure whether to be offended or relieved, but she swallowed a sigh regardless. “You know your horses, then?”

  “I trained as an equine specialist. Just didn’t get enough of a chance to use it in London and ended up more as a sort of domestic animal GP. But horses are why I’m a vet. I’d see so many people riding around when I was growing up, and I always wanted to be one of them. I’d bring sugar cubes and mints to the ones up at the riding school nearest to us.”

  “I bet the instructors loved you for that.”

  “Oh, I didn’t take lessons. Bit out of our price range and then some. It was just me and my mum, so we had to make do a lot. I have learned to ride since, of course. But you don’t need to ride to give them treatment, thankfully.”

  There was a confidence about Tess that came across in everything she did. Anyone who had tussled with Susannah usually kept their distance afterwards, but Tess seemed to just keep on being exactly how she was, almost like she expected the world to adjust around her. Susannah knew she was guilty of expecting exactly that herself, but she wasn’t quite used to it in someone from Tess’s background.

  “Can you tell if it’s broken?” Susannah pointed to the injured leg. “If she’s suffering, if I’m being cruel to her, you must tell me. I don’t care about the size of the bill either way, but I won’t see her dragged through agony just to rack up the costs.”

  “Whoa, whoa!” Tess held up her hands like she was surrendering to the police. “A little cynical right off the bat there.”

  Susannah pinched the bridge of her nose. Why was she always at her worst with people lately? This was Robin’s influence. The last thing she wanted to do was be as hateful as her sister-in-law had turned out to be. Time to nip that in the bud.

  “Sorry, sorry. I meant no stain on your character. I’m sure you’re beyond reproach.”

  “Okay, Jane Austen. Apology accepted,” Tess replied with a deep chuckle. It was a surprisingly pleasant sound. She bent down to inspect Billie Jean’s leg, patting and soothing her the whole time, with just as much care as Susannah would show herself. Not a bad start. Thorough too.

  After that initial examination, she didn’t just take Susannah’s word but inspected all four legs with the same laser focus. Then the hips were subject to very careful prodding, and there was the requisite general check of heart, eyes, ears, and nose. Maybe it was to prove a point. Either way, there was a certain diminishing of the tension in Susannah’s shoulders when nothing was rushed or skimmed over.

  “Well, your fancy vet might see something I’ve missed, and if you really want, we have the portable X-ray back at the surgery. But I’m confident from how she’s holding herself and how she’s distributing the weight that we’re not looking at a break.”

  “How sure?”

  “Sure as I can be. I’d be confident walking her back at a trot too. You might prefer the horse box, if it doesn’t stress her too much. Every horse is different.”

  “She’s not bothered by it,” Susannah said with another pat for Billie Jean. “She would have been in and out of them daily from a foal. Just muscle memory to her now, no stress.”

  “That’s usually the case with racehorses, unless they’ve had a bad experience stuck in the box for too long. She really is a beauty. If you’ve got stables full of horses like her, then I really am kicking myself that we missed out on your business. I’d be quite happy in with her all day. We’d do some good work together.”

  “Yes. Well. I can call someone to bring the horse box down to take it easy on her. What can I do for her in the meantime? She’s clearly hurting.”

  “I’ve got some support bandaging here and an anti-inflammatory that will bring the irritation right down. She’ll need cooling treatments for a few days—compresses for a while, then the bandaging goes back on. Total rest for a week, then gradual return to exercise. Think your grooms can handle that?”

  “I need to hire a new one, a specialist, but the existing staff are good,” Susannah replied, trying not to go on the defensive. “And, of course, they’ll have a dedicated vet.”

  “Lucky horses,” Tess said. “Right, can you keep her occupied up front while I work my magic, for now? She’s much less likely to kick or try to bolt that way. Then, once you cross the road and go up a bit, the signal comes back so you can call your staff.”

  Right. Phone reception. Why hadn’t Susannah thought to check for that when she set off to get help? Amateur hour, honestly. “Come on, Billie Jean,” she coaxed. “The vet here is going to fix you right up, and we’ll be out riding again in no time.”

  “That’s right,” Tess agreed, and for some reason, while she was down on the grass spraying something cold o
n the horse’s leg, she glanced up at Susannah and smiled.

  It had to be said, it was a very nice smile indeed.

  Chapter 7

  Tess didn’t mean to grin up at Susannah like an idiot, but there was something about the moment that dragged a smile right across her face. Perhaps just that it was the first moment between them that hadn’t felt like the start of a fight, or just because calm was the best environment to treat good old Billie Jean in. Whatever the reason, it worked.

  Treatment didn’t take long, and Tess waited patiently with the horse while Susannah went across the road to place her call. In all the time they’d been working together, not a single car or tractor had passed. Apart from the farm she’d just visited, only a few empty buildings dotted the landscape—barns no longer used in fields that no longer yielded a crop to store.

  This really was one of the more remote parts of the area, the kind of place Tess only uncovered as a child by walking much farther than she was allowed. They hadn’t had a car for a long stretch, and when they did make that purchase as a family, it had been one failing rust bucket after another. It was part of why she liked her new, flash car with all the bells and whistles. There was security in being able to buy the best of stuff, and Tess had thrown her whole life into getting that security for herself.

  “I can follow you up to the estate and check on her once she’s stabled,” Tess said once Susannah rejoined her. The sun was actually getting to be warm, beating down on them. Tess pulled herself up on the nearest stretch of wall to sit and properly bask in it.

  Susannah joined her after checking in on the horse. “Don’t you have other clients to visit? Sheep stuck in fences, that kind of thing?”

  “Nobody around here would call a vet for that. A labourer, maybe.”

  “You sound like you would know,” Susannah replied. “Because you’re local, I mean,” she added when Tess shot her a confused look.