Page 23 of In Full Bloom

I’m pacing back and forth on the gravel beside the arena. I’m not sure why I need to be here. Flynn is perfectly capable. I’m sure he can unload a horse and put it in the paddock without too much drama.

His ute comes over the brow of the hill, pulling the horse float. He pulls up beside me. “Hey, Dallas,” he grins. “Didn’t expect to see youhere.”

I grunt. “Olivia had something come up,” I mutter.

He grins at me, the cheeky little shit. He knows how much I hate horses. Well, it’s not actually that I hate them. I think they’re amazing animals. But they’re also terrifying and I cannot get past that detail to actually go near them anymore.

“Well, I don’t think you’ll have to get too close to this one,” Flynn says. “But, can you open up that yard gate? I’ll back right up to it.”

I raise an eyebrow, but do as he asked. We usually just unload horses in the middle of the driveway, where he’s currently parked.

Well, I don’t, but other people do.

Flynn backs the float right up to the gate, so there’s barely a space between the float and the gateposts. When he climbs out he joins me at the gate. “She’s not tied up in there, and I’d say she’s going to be pretty keen to get out of there. So we’ll drop the ramp and when I open the bar, stay right out of her way.”

“What the hell kind of horse is this?” I ask, anxiety creeping into my muscles.

“One that’s not had a very good time of it,” Flynn says, his normally smiling face turning grim. “It’s not her fault though, and Olivia will turn her around.”

I nod and we lower the ramp of the float, then I move well out of the way as Flynn prepares to open the bar that contains the horse in the float, so she can’t barrel out while the ramp is being dropped and squash someone.

“That’s a good girl,” Flynn murmurs in his soothing horse voice. All horse people seem to have one. I haven’t found mine yet, but I suspect it’s not far off the one I use when Sadie’s upset.

Flynn releases the bar and the horse shoots backwards, rattling down the ramp until her hooves hit dirt. She spins, kicking out her back legs as she charges around the yard, keeping her distance from us.

She’s a sorry looking creature, with a light-coloured, matted mane and tail, a dull brown coat sprinkled with white hair, and ribs sticking out. Even I can tell her feet need a trim and she has a look in her eye that’s far more terrified than angry.

Flynn and I lift the ramp again and I pull the ute forward while he closes the gate. By the time I’m out of the ute, he’s standing on the fence looking down at the horse.

“She’s going to be a beauty,” he says, grinning at me again as I climb up beside him. “All that white hair mixed in with the chestnut makes her a strawberry roan. I don’t think I’ve seen one before, but I can imagine how gorgeous she’ll be once she’s all cleaned up.”

I look at the mare sceptically. “Yeah, sure,” I say, hoping I don’t sound as doubtful as I feel.

I don’t know what Olivia is thinking, bringing another horse here, especially one that clearly needs this much work. She has no time to work with it, neither does Flynn and no one else has much affinity with horses, especially not me.

Then I remember Katie and her confident way in the saddle. I know who this horse is for, and I suspect I know why it’s arrived now too. It’s another thing to keep Katie here, like Olivia is worried she’ll leave.

I think about that myself. I can’t figure out why she’s here. She clearly hates the town. I’m not sure even her evident love for Olivia and Wildflower Ridge can be enough tocounteract Max Sheridan’s attitude. I wonder if other people around here have the same reaction to her.

I realise I’m standing next to someone who probably has all the details right now. I clear my throat and Flynn looks up at me.

“This horse is for Katie, isn’t it?”

I didn’t know it was possible for Flynn’s face to smile bigger, but it does as soon as I mention Katie.

He nods. “I can’t wait to see her,” he says. “It’s been way too long.”

“She had an … ah … encounter with Max Sheridan today,” I say.

Flynn’s grin disappears and he visibly flinches. “Oof,” he says. “Did she punch him in the face?”

“No.”

Flynn looks disappointed.

“But she did tell him to fuck off,” I add.

His expression immediately shifts back to his usual grin. “Atta girl,” he says.

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