Cole woke next morning still curled around her. Someone had put a duvet over them. He could hear the sound of cups and plates on the granite benchtops in the kitchen.

Somebody in the house was awake.

He pushed the duvet back. The only person who could have put it over him and Milly was her father. Tom Gaisford must have got home and found them here and instead of waking them up he covered them with a duvet.

No idea what that meant.

He carefully moved off the couch without waking Milly. His right arm felt dead where she had been lying on it. The mark on her neck still there, but she looked peaceful.

He found his boss in the kitchen making breakfast. He could smell the toast.

“Cole, do you want coffee?”

“Yeah.” He sat on the bar stool. “How’s Hunter?”

“Bruised and cut.”

“Nothing broken?”

Milly’s father shook his head. “It doesn’t look like it.” He looked as tired as Milly had last night. “There’s a deep cut on his gaskin about this long.” His hands were about shoulder width apart. So, one hell of a cut. “It needed twenty-five stitches. And it looks like something is damaged in his left foreleg. Twisted the fetlock joint maybe. We’ll have to wait to see. There might be a tendon or ligament injury. Ivan thinks with care it will all mend, but he probably won’t be the horse he used to be.”

“Milly will be disappointed.” It looked like her father wasn’t planning on commenting on the sleeping arrangements.

He nodded and then got another mug out of the cupboard. “I guess Milly didn’t want to be alone.” So, he wasn’t going to ignore the sleeping arrangements.

“Yes, sir.”

“Relax, Cole. I could see what had happened. You both would have been so tired you would have fallen asleep the moment you sat down.”

Milly’s father poured the coffee. “There is something I wanted to talk to you about, though. I think the accident has gone under everyone’s radar. No one knows about it except you, me, Milly, the vet and Farr. I’d like to keep it that way. If something like this got out, it wouldn’t do my business any good.”

“Yeah.” He could see how the wheels coming off the float and a couple of horses badly injured wouldn’t look good for someone whose business was all about caring for other peoples’ animals.

“Can I trust you to keep quiet?” asked his boss.

“Yeah.” He had the coffee and toast. Milly still hadn’t appeared, and it was a school day, so he should probably try and turn up. “I’d better get home.”

“Okay. And Cole, thanks for how you handled things yesterday. You did well.” His boss put the mugs and plates in the dishwasher.

“Thanks,” said Cole. Bloody hell, he crashes the ute, kills a horse, gets caught sleeping with the man’s daughter, and gets thanked?

He opened the back door of his house. The smell hit him in a wave. Alcohol, sour smoke, old food, stale bodies. The place stunk like a brewery.

Fuck.

“Dad, are you home?” No answer.

The kitchen had every pot they own stacked on the bench and most of the plates. There were glasses and bottles everywhere. Must have been a party here, and it looked like it started early and ended late.

Why couldn’t his father and his mates ever clean up after themselves?

He started stacking up the plates ready to load the dishwasher. He’d get this cleaned up then have a shower and get to school. How hard is it to stick a few dishes in the dishwasher and put the bottles out in the recycling?

His dad must have already left for work. Bloody typical he didn’t clean up first. He opened the dishwasher and the dishes from Saturday night were still there.

Fuck.

He unloaded the dishwasher and then cleared the bench of the used dishes. He put the dirty pots into the sink and ran water on them. He’d wash them when he got home from school. He’d need them to cook dinner anyway.

He went into the lounge to get an empty box to stick the bottles in. They wouldn’t have bothered to take the boxes out to the recycling either. The curtains in the lounge were still closed and his dad sprawled out on the couch, snoring. Jesus.

At least no half-naked woman under him this time. That was a plus.

But he wasn’t at work, either.

He went over to the couch and shook him. “Wake up.”

“Leave me alone.” His dad tried to turn over.

Cole grabbed him by the shoulder and rolled him off the couch. The bastard could wake up and give him a hand. He’d had enough of living like this. “Wake up.”

His father rolled up to sitting. “What did you do that for?” he slurred, still drunk.

“Why aren’t you at work?”

“Couldn’t be bothered.”

“How come?”

He got a shrug. “Told the boss where to stick his job.” Again. And it looked like his dad planned on just staying there and going back to sleep.

Cole stood back and hands on hips, watched the man who was meant to look after him roll onto his side, curl up into a ball and close his eyes. That meant no money to live on. How often had this happened over the years? Why couldn’t he have parents like the rest of the world?

He shook him again. “Get up, asshole. If you’re going sleep all day, at least do it in your bedroom.”

His father rolled onto his knees and then stood up shakily.

“Don’t be mad, Coley.” He looked pathetic.

Cole watched him limp to his room. He could get angrier with him, could shout at him, but it never made any difference. It always ended like this.

He puffed out an explosive breath, rubbed his hair with his hand, then went into his father’s bedroom, pulled the bedcovers over him and shut the door. He couldn’t be bothered with school. He’d clean up, it’d take a couple of hours, then sleep too.

Later maybe go and see how Milly was. It looked like she liked him as much as he liked her. Tom Gaisford seemed to as well. Something to hold onto. Life wasn’t completely shit.

Late in the afternoon, he went back to the Gaisford’s. There might be something he could do to help.

Milly answered the door. “Cole!” She still seemed happy to see him.

“Just came to see if you were all right.” She looked all right. She looked about as good as any girl he’d ever seen, and in jeans, sneakers and another small camisole thing.

She shrugged. “Did you go to school today?”

“No. By the time I got home and cleaned up it didn’t seem worth the bother. I’m really sorry about your horses.”

“I know.” She sighed again. “It’s all terrible. I keep wondering what we could have done differently, but I can’t think of anything.” She bit her lip.

“Me neither. How’s Hunter?”

“Poor Hunter. Dad says his legs will heal but he’ll probably never jump again.”

“What are you going to do about the riding then?”

“I don’t know. I miss Wildfire so much already, and poor Hunter. I can’t just replace them. He wants me to go stay with my grandparents. He thinks without the horses here I won’t have enough to do, and a change of scenery will be good for me.”

“When are you going?”

“When Dad gets back, in half an hour.”

“For how long?”

“A few weeks. We were going to stay with them for the September holidays anyway. I’m just going a bit early. Soon Daddy will say something about those horses we saw on Saturday, but I don’t want to think about it yet.” She looked up at him. So pretty. Soft kissable lips, amber eyes, long hair down to her back. Classy, even in jeans.

She took his hand. “Come inside. Keep me company.”

He felt draw back, his ribs were still bloody sore. She hadn’t hurt him, but he didn’t think he could stand anyone bumping into him accidentally.

She let go. “Sorry, I forgot. Have you been to a doctor yet?”

“No.” He followed her inside. Who had money to waste on doctors for sore ribs? “What about you?”

She nodded and turned, standing close and facing him. “Daddy made me. The doctor said I’m only bruised, and I’ll come right in a few days.”

“That’s good.” He touched the mark on the side of her neck with his fingers. Then paused. She smiled up at him and tentatively touched his cheek, then his lips. He took the hand and then moved his lips to the mark on her neck. She tasted warm and sweet. He shifted his lips to hers and the warmth and taste of her moved through him. Their hands rested very gently against his chest, the kiss all warmth and sweetness and light.

Milly pulled away a fraction.

It took him a moment to adjust to the loss of her.

She smiled up at him again. “That was nice,” she said. “But it hurts. Doesn’t it?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Everything hurts.”

“And Dad will be here in a moment.” Milly sighed. “I’ll see you after the holidays?”

He nodded. Anyway, he had to go home, get dinner cooked, and try to get some food into his father. By now he should be sober. There might be chance of him looking for work tomorrow. Until then, they’d be living on what Milly’s dad gave him.