After they’d eaten, Harry headed down to the stables and made himself busy even though it was his afternoon off. Boyd planned to see his son later, who was motoring up from Southampton. As much as Boyd complained about him working as a chauffeur, Harry could hear the pride in his voice when he spoke of his son and listened with a smile while he checked the tack and waited nervously for Ash to arrive.
He was dying to be alone with him again. Yesterday, with Ash shaken and Harry cold, they hadn’t had much chance to talk about what had happened between them. Maybe they were taking a risk riding out again so soon, but he hadn’t survived four years at the front without taking risks. Besides, when Ash looked at him with heat in his beautiful brown eyes, Harry would risk anything for the chance to kiss him again.
Alert for the sound of footsteps, Harry was already walking out of the stables to meet him when Ash arrived in the yard.
“Boyd!” he called, lifting a hand to wave as he approached.
Harry glanced at Boyd, who watched Ash with a guarded expression that suggested he was imagining his afternoon off spoiled. For himself, Harry only offered an appropriately deferential nod.
“Any chance I can borrow West this afternoon?” Ash said, coming to lean on the fence. “I’d rather like to ride out again after we had to cut things short yesterday.”
Boyd looked between them, eyebrows twitching into a frown. “If you’re sure you want him, Mr Ashleigh. I hear you had to pull him out of the mire yesterday.”
Even from this distance, Harry saw Ash’s expression flicker and knew where his thoughts had gone. “I-I-I’m sure he could have escaped without me,” he got out after a moment. “B-but it was my fault, not warning him away from the edge of the p-pond.” His smile looked strained. “I’m the local, after all, and you d-did remind me of the d-danger.”
Boyd shook his head. “Just grateful the horses didn’t stray too close. I’d hate to have lost one.”
Harry had seen hundreds of horses floundering and dying in the mud and was half convinced he’d eaten some of them in his Maconochie. All Ash said was, “I’d n-never have forgiven myself if they had.” He glanced over, but Harry looked away and tried to appear busy. “I’m conscious of West’s duties,” Ash carried on, “b-but if you can spare him this afternoon, I’d be grateful.”
Boyd lifted a questioning eyebrow.Want me to make an excuse?When Harry shook his head, Boyd shrugged. “It’s his afternoon off, Mr Ashleigh, so it’s no skin off my nose what he does with his time.”
“In that case, what do you say, West?” Ash barely reined in his grin. “I p-promise not to lead you into any more mires. In fact, I thought we could head up to my father’s old hunting box. I’d like to take a look. Not been used since b-before the war, I should think.”
“I should think you’re right,” Boyd said. “And that’s a nice ride, Harry. You’ll enjoy it.”
Harry had to turn away to hide a flash of excitement. “Reckon I will,” he said. Then, to Ash, “I’d appreciate the opportunity to ride Sable again, sir. I’ll go and saddle up the horses.”
They didn’t talk much until they were off the road and onto a broad tree-lined bridleway leading through the forest, the canopy above a lush green and the loamy scent of earth kicked up by the horses’ hooves scenting the air with the promise of summer.
Ash let out a sigh, shoulders relaxing as if he were shaking off some great weight, and he turned to Harry with a heart-stopping smile. He didn’t smile often, but when he did… Harry’s stomach tightened. Ash looked lovely in the dappled sunlight, dark hair gleaming under his cap, and his face flushed with more colour than he’d had for a while. Harry would have liked to tell him he was beautiful, but it sounded silly. Instead, he said, “How far is it to this hunting box?”
“Not far.” Ash smiled and, to Harry’s delight, flushed. “If we ride fast, we’ll have more time to…” He looked down at his hands gripping the reins and didn’t finish.
Harry’s heart kicked harder than a horse. “What are we waiting for then?” he said, and nudged Sable into a gallop.
Behind him, Ash barked a laugh and they raced until Ash slowed Bella back to a walk and Harry dropped back with him. They were past the trees then, out onto the heath, and Ash lifted a hand to point. “The box is in that stand of trees over there.”
As they approached, he saw that the hunting box was more like a small wooden cottage than anything else, its windows shuttered and a good deal of moss on the roof and the stone steps leading up to its door. It didn’t look like anyone had been inside for years.
Dismounting, Harry led Sable over to the hitching post and tied her up before turning back to help Ash dismount. “Ready?” he said, squinting up against the blue sky.
With a nod, Ash swung his duff leg over and Harry caught him at the waist to take the weight until he had his good foot out of the stirrup and on the ground. But this time… God, this time he didn’t let go. Slipping his arms around Ash’s waist he pulled him back against his chest, buried his face in the hair behind Ash’s ear and breathed him in.
Ash gave a soft sigh, leaning into Harry’s embrace, one hand coming to rest over Harry’s. “Hello,” he said quietly.
Harry smiled against his neck. “Hello yourself.”
Bella huffed and snorted, and Ash laughed. “All right old girl,” he said, patting her neck. “Do you want a drink?” To Harry, he said, “There’s a pond behind the box — come on, I’ll show you. It’s very secluded.”
He wasn’t wrong. Behind the building was a small pond shaded by tall trees and a small overgrown enclosure for the horses. After they’d let them drink, Harry put them into the paddock so they could start work on four years’ worth of undergrowth.
“Father used to come here with his friends when we were children.” Ash smiled, a little ruefully as he peered in through the window. Inside, it looked empty and uninviting. “I doubt he ever hunted. Probably just wanted to get away from the noise of two young boys.”
It was much nicer outside. With the trees looming over the pond, and the lodge at their backs, it was as private a place as they were ever likely to find. “I like it here,” Harry decided, and took Ash’s hand in his own.
The colour rising in his cheeks, Ash said, “I brought a blanket. Shall we sit?”
It didn’t take long to spread the blanket out on the grassy bank, and Ash had brought a flask of tea and some slabs of cake, too. Not that Harry was hungry. Not for tea and cake, at any rate. Eating was the last thing on his mind as he watched Ash manoeuvre himself down onto the blanket, sighing as he stretched out his bad leg. Harry came to sit next to him, facing him.