Chapter Seven
A week passed. Marnie learned how to ride. She wasn’t perfect at it, but she got to the point that she could rise to a trot and even stand up in the stirrups so her butt didn’t meet the saddle at all. Sam said he’d teach her to canter soon, but he wanted her to get comfortable at the walk and the trot first and she was okay with that. There was no rush to go faster, and she didn’t think Taxi would probably go much faster anyway. Getting him to trot at all was sometimes a bit of a mission, and he’d slow down as soon as he was allowed to. He was a lazy old man in every sense of the word.
Sam kept his word in so far as staying away from her in an erotic sense, but that was okay because about two days after her first ride, she got her period. No wonder she’d been so snippy and short with Sam from the beginning. Her PMS was pretty bad sometimes, and since the quakes her periods had been hard to predict.
Riding seemed to help the cramps though, especially the gentle strolls through the countryside. Sam took her on one almost every afternoon or early evening, to get a sense of the terrain they’d be working customers over once the season kicked into full swing. They’d had a few visitors already, small groups of two to four people who had gone out with Sam after Marnie helped saddle them all up.
Sometimes people asked her questions about horses. She didn’t even pretend to know, just directed all the questions to Sam by repeating them. He seemed to be okay with that, and she learned a lot from listening to the answers he gave. She was getting used to the horses too. They all had their own personalities, likes and dislikes. Most all of them liked to be brushed and loved on, and they all liked apples and carrots. Marnie was even getting used to picking out their hooves and clearing out stalls. It was dirty work, but it wasn’t as humiliating as it had seemed at first. It needed to be done to look after the horses, and she liked looking after them. It was nice to have something to care about. Since the quakes she’d mostly worried about herself.
One afternoon Sam was out with a small group and Marnie was picking up around the stables, wheeling a barrow of manure to the pile out the back. As she worked, Trixie came prancing down the fence line, her head high, her tail raised. Sam hadn’t taken her out on the ride either.
“I know, we’ve been left behind,” she said to the horse. “It’s not fair, is it.”
Trixie whinnied and shook her head, watching curiously as Marnie upended the barrow and sent the manure into the stash. She wasn’t sure what it was used for. Some kind of fertilizer, maybe. When she was done she went over and said hello to Trixie. The filly liked to have her nose rubbed and Marnie did that until Trixie started nibbling on her. Every chance Trixie got to misbehave, she took.
“Okay, that’s enough. I got more stalls to do,” Marnie said, returning with the barrow. Her legs were starting to tire from standing up and working for so long. She needed to sit down. There weren’t a lot of places to do that. The barn was a work area, not designed for human comfort. There was one place where she knew there had to be a chair though—Sam’s office.
It was a little room at the back of the barn, not much more than a boarded-up stall, but it seemed to do the trick. She’d been in there once or twice to handle client paperwork and she knew there was a chair in there. She could sneak away for a few minutes and take a load off her feet, she figured. Sam wouldn’t even know.
Smiling to herself, Marnie returned the wheelbarrow to its usual place and went into Sam’s office. An old but comfy leather chair awaited her and she sank into it with a sigh of relief. All the horse trek work was crazy physical, and the early mornings didn’t really help either.
She sat back and closed her eyes for a bit, just enjoying the rest. Oh, yeah. This was nice. She should do this more often. She half-opened her eyes and looked around the office casually, just taking things in. As she did, something caught her eye. A piece of paper sitting on Sam’s desk, marked with red lettering.
Marnie instantly knew she shouldn’t look at it. That would be snooping. It wasn’t any of her business. But letters in that typeface with that angry red stamp above them just demanded to be read. She sat up a little taller in the chair and squinted her eyes to look at the letter. The logo on the upper right hand corner told her that it was from the bank, but she couldn’t read the writing until she got up out of the chair and looked at it a little closer, glancing over it quickly.
There were some terse words and some very big numbers. She didn’t have time to really take it all in, but the gist was clear. The business was deep in debt. No wonder there weren’t any trained staff around. No wonder it was just her and Sam. No wonder her aunt had been so keen for her to help out. In an instant, everything fell into place.
Just as she got done reading, footsteps outside the office startled her. Was Sam back already? Usually trekkers made lots of noise when they returned, but maybe it wasn’t as audible this far back in the barn. It was too late to get out of the office. Marnie froze, which was probably about the worst possible thing she could have done. She stared at the door, hoping that Sam wasn’t coming into the office.
A second later his tall shadow fell over the door, and then he was standing in front of her, a quizzical and unimpressed look on his face.
“What are you doing?”
“Uhm…”
He was blocking the doorway. There was no way out.
“I was just looking for a pen,” she lied.
“A pen? Why?”
“So I could write my phone number down before I forgot it.”
Stupid! She could have said anything. She could have said one of the clients asked for one. She could have said she wanted to write in her diary. Hell, she could have said she wanted to shove it up her butt and it would have been a more plausible explanation.
Both Sam’s brows rose. “Little girl, that makes no sense. Why are you in here?”
“I was tired. My legs hurt, so I looked for somewhere to sit down…”
His eyes dropped to the piece of paper she had been looking at. “And you went through my financial records.”
“It was right on top! I couldn’t help seeing it. I’m sorry,” she said earnestly. “Seriously, Sam. I am sorry. I’m sorry for looking and I’m sorry this place is in trouble. I had no idea.”
“You still have no idea,” he said gruffly, stepping forward to shove the bank’s notice beneath a pile of other papers. “And it’s not your concern. Get out of here, Marnie. This is off bounds to you.”
The office wasn’t a very big room. Getting out of there was going to mean going right past him and she really didn’t want to risk his hand on her rear. He hadn’t properly punished her since the day she’d acted up in Culverden. Part of her was glad for that—and part of her wasn’t. Living in the same house as Sam, being woken up by him every day, working by his side, it was all a type of torture just barely mediated by the fact that she was sexually out of operation anyway.
“Out. Now.”
“You’re in the way.”
He stood to the side and let her go past. Marnie put her head down and scurried by, putting her hands back over her butt to cover her rear. She heard him snort as she zipped by him, and before he could change his mind about punishing her, she escaped back to the farmhouse and took a shower. Magda would probably have tea ready soon. Usually Marnie would go down once she’d gotten changed and chat with Magda and tease Sam, but after getting cleaned up, she stayed in her room until Magda called and then she made her way downstairs for tea.
It was kind of uncomfortable. Sam was much quieter than he usually was. He avoided even looking at Marnie though he made plenty of polite conversation with Magda. With that sick feeling in her tummy that told her she was in trouble, Marnie ate quickly and moved to clear up the plates. Doing the dishes gave her a reason to escape the tension until she heard Aunty Magda make her goodbyes and head off to the little granny flat out back.
She and Sam had the house to themselves. Usually that was a good thing. Most nights they just watched TV until Sam sent her to bed—something that galled her, but wasn’t worth arguing about. Tonight, she kind of wished Magda was around. She had a sense that the conversation about the bank statement wasn’t over yet.
Sure enough, when she was done with the dishes Sam was waiting for her. As she went to leave the kitchen she found him sitting at the dinner table, drumming his fingers on the top. There was no way to go upstairs without going past him. Marnie dried her hands and tried to sidle past him anyway.
“Come here,” he said, before she could get very far.
Marnie slid into the chair opposite him, avoiding his hard gaze. Sam was sexy when he was stern, but she really didn’t want the lecture, or the punishment she knew she probably had coming.
“What you saw today,” he said. “I want you to forget about it, okay? It’s not your problem. And it’s not Aunty Magda’s problem either. I took over this place and I’m going to turn it around.”
Marnie nodded. “Well, I’m here to help, so…”
“You help by doing what you’re told,” he said firmly. “And staying out of my papers. I should spank you for getting into my office like that.”
A flash of heat ran through Marnie and her ass broke into a sweat. She hadn’t known it was possible for just one part of her anatomy to react, but Sam’s habit of taking his displeasure out on her rear had quickly trained her bottom to expect the worst.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, hoping to avoid punishment. “I know I shouldn’t have looked. I was just going to sit down and rest my legs and I saw it and… I am sorry, Sam.” She raised her eyes to him plaintively, hoping he’d forgive her.
“If I catch you in my office again, you’ll pay, understand? I’m letting you off now because you’ve been really good the last week. Great with the clients, and with the horses, too. You’re really coming along nicely, Marnie.”
She couldn’t help the broad smile that flashed over her features. “Really?”
“Yeah. Really. And it’s getting you out of trouble this time, but it won’t work again. Now get upstairs and get to bed.”
“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 doing 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.