He got Milly home late morning. Tom was just coming out of the house when they pulled up in the drive.

Milly leapt out and grabbed her bag and the tent off the back.

“Did the party go well?” Her father wandered over to them.

“It was lovely,” lied Milly.

But maybe she was talking about being under the canopy. Then it would be true. Funny that she was so reserved out of bed but seemed to love everything about sex, and was a bloody fast learner.

Probably wouldn’t share that insight with Tom.

“I’m going to start on the morning chores,” said Tom.

“I’ll put these away and then come and help.” Milly held up the bag and tent.

“I can help too.” It would seem a bit strange to leave Tom to do the work he employed him to do. But working with him would be even stranger after the last twelve hours with his daughter.

Milly kissed Cole on the cheek.

“Okay, I’ll let you help. I’ll be back in a moment.” Tom watched his daughter go into the house, then turned back to Cole.

“I didn’t see that coming. I thought a bunch of Milly’s friends and your friends went to this party.”

“We did.”

“But you and my daughter are an item now?”

Cole nodded. And hopefully he still had a job despite that. Tom can’t be that protective. He let her go to the party with him.

Tom wandered over to the stables. Cole followed, and they started morning muck out. They heard the back door slam. Milly must be on her way over.

Tom stood up. He hadn’t said anything else since he saw the kiss on the cheek and asked about them. He watched Cole carry an armful of hay into a stall and waited for him to come out again.

“I should have employed someone short, fat and ugly to do your job,” he said at last.

No way to respond to that. He went back to the bale in the wheel barrow and broke off another slab of hay.

Milly’s father leaned on the door of the stall.

“Well, she had to grow up some time. Horses weren’t always going to be her only interest.”

Sounded reasonable.

Tom hadn’t finished. “But if you hurt her, Cole, you’ll have me to answer to.”

Cole shut the stall door.

“Yes, sir,” he said. But, he couldn’t imagine ever hurting Milly. He was the one in danger here.

She came over to them. “What are you two talking about that’s so serious?”

“We thought we’d go and look at those horses this afternoon instead of tomorrow, Princess. See if they’ll suit you. We can all go. Now do you think you two are up to finishing here?”

“Of course, Daddy.” Milly watched her father go back to the house. “What were you really talking about?”

“Man stuff.”

Milly snorted. “What he’ll do to you if you aren’t nice to me?”

“Pretty much.”

“Pffft.” Milly picked up the rake and started to pull the straw out of the next stall. “He’s always over protective.”

Then she looked across the divider between the two stalls.

“Should I tell him how nice you really are to me?” She leaned her elbow on the divider and cupped her cheek.

Cole watched the talking, the leading of the horses, and the rubbing of hands over tendons. It seemed to go on forever. Tom, Milly and the owner had talked about every part of those horses, the way they moved, what they’d been fed since they were born, what the stallions who sired them had achieved, and the mares.

Finally, Milly left the two men and came over to him.

“Are you going to load them yet?” he asked.

Milly shook her head. “Dad wants to see how they go with me riding them.”

Bloody hell, how long does it take to buy two horses?

She nodded at the paddock with a show jumping course set up on it.

“I’m just getting my boots and helmet. Mr Hastings is going to saddle them for me and I’ll take them over the jumps.”

“How long will that take?”

“Not long, five jumps each?”

He leaned against the fence beside Tom and Hastings, watching Milly enter the ring.

“She looks good on Karim,” said Hastings.

Cole looked at the man. Milly always looked good. Of course she’d look good on that horse. She looked good on any horse.

Milly approached the first fence. Hastings waved his hand to take in the course.

“We’ve set the fences low, but you will still see what they can do. Show jumping tests the technical jumping skills of the horse and rider, including suppleness, obedience, fitness and athleticism.” Hastings had to be talking for the sake of talking, he had to know Tom knew that.

The horse flew over the fence and moved smoothly towards the next.

“She placed him well,” said Hastings.

Tom nodded. Milly steered the horse in a wide curving run to the next fence. To Cole, Milly’s father seemed to be riding with her in his mind. Every now and then he would change his balance or move his hands.

“These fences are brightly coloured and consist of elements that can be knocked down, unlike cross country obstacles,” said Hastings to Cole. “Karim is a thoroughbred. He’s bred to race. He’s a four-year-old, so he’s been through racing preparation.” More talking for the sake of it. “But after he’d had a couple of runs, it was obvious he wasn’t going to be a champion. Eventing could be the way to go with him.”

“Would a racehorse be competitive?” Cole asked. The ones he’d seen at Tom’s place seemed to be happy just to run, not do the stuff he’d seen Milly doing with Hunter and Wildfire.

Tom leaned against the fence and watched Milly step up from a canter to make a fast circuit right round the outside of the jumping course. “It depends how they’ve been handled. If the horse has been brought on carefully, and if they can jump like Hastings says this one can, then the racing pretraining can be beneficial. A racehorse, if you get a nice one, is much more advanced than a purpose-bred horse at the same age.”

That sounded reasonable. He watched Milly slow down, then steer Karim towards the next jump. The horse took it effortlessly and it looked like he landed well too.

Milly headed for the next one.

“Going well, Milly,” called her father.

Hastings rested his elbows on the rails. “That horse has been handled from six months and put through sales preparation, so he got used to everything from a young age and broken in early. He’s bombproof.”

Bombproof sounded good. Karim flew over that jump too, no stumbling as he landed.

Tom nodded. “If they’ve been brought through by a good trainer, they’ve seen the racetrack, they’ve seen the people and they’re used to travelling and new surroundings. It’s a good start. You end up with a three or four-year-old horse that’s had all this experience.” Tom stopped talking for a moment and watched Karim take the next jump. “Immaculate.” He turned to Hastings. “We’ll take this one.”

Hastings nodded. “But before you make the decision let Milly ride Tobias too. You’re right. He’s a purpose bred eventing horse, and he’s never been out in public. Nobody could call him bombproof, but he’s got real potential.”

“All right. She can have a go on him too. But I’m going to take some convincing.”

“You are just biased towards racehorses because that’s what you know. If you have a purpose-bred sport horse, and you do everything with it yourself, then the horse should have no reason to get upset.”

Tom still didn’t look convinced.

Milly made it around the course without coming off or knocking a fence down. When she finished, she rode over to them.

“Do you like him?” asked Tom.

“He’s lovely.”

Hastings led Tobias over.

“Now a different ride completely.”

Cole held Karim steady while she dismounted.

She seemed tired. With good reason considering last night.

Tom must have thought she seemed tired too. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Princess.”

Milly spent a few minutes gentling Tobias. “I’m fine.” She swung up.