‘We’ll have fun,’ Nick insisted, through gritted teeth. He was trying to keep a hold on his frustration, but he had a feeling he was failing miserably.
‘Will we?’ Tia said this in a deadpan voice, challenging him. Her arms were crossed and her lips had narrowed into a thin line.
‘We haven’t been anywhere for ages.’
‘I don’t want to.’
‘Please, for me?’ Nick was aware he didn’t sound either pleading or begging – he sounded pissed off and at the end of his tether.
‘If you can explain what is so “fun” about traipsing up and down the high street on a Saturday afternoon, then I’ll happily come with you.’
‘Um…’ Nick was at a loss. It certainly wasn’t his idea of fun (he hated shopping) but he thought Tia might enjoy it. She hadn’t left The Furlongs for weeks now. A change of scenery would do her good.
‘We could go for a walk along the river, then have a coffee.’ He ignored her exaggerated glance down at her legs when he mentioned the word “walk”. ‘There’s a new tea shop opened up in the village. I thought we could pop in there afterwards.’
Tia regarded him steadily, then huffed out a big sigh and shrugged her shoulders. ‘If this thing gets stuck in the mud, don’t blame me. And if I say I want to go home, we go home. No arguing. Agreed?’
Nick let out the breath he wasn’t aware he had been holding. ‘Agreed.’
He was about to ask her if she needed any help to get ready but thought better of it. His sister had become incredibly independent since the accident. That wasn’t to say she didn’t insist on doing most things herself and generally succeeding, but Nick was aware of how much Tia relied on him. Unfortunately, Tia was aware too, and it tended to make her cranky.
He had tried to make it as easy for her as he could – he’d had a bedroom and a bathroom built downstairs, converted from what had once been a storeroom on the back of the house, and fitted out for a wheelchair user; all the kitchen units and countertops had been lowered (although it played havoc with his back whenever he tried to cook in it), he had arranged for ramps on all the doorways which needed them, and had bought a converted car for Tia’s sole use.
He knew how much it pained her to watch him ride, to be around horses and not be able to mount one, or to see the grooms doing what she’d once done. Horses had been her passion, her life, and her downfall, and Nick wished with all his heart he could mend her.
Getting changed took Tia an age, and Nick did some work on the computer while he waited. Good, he thought, as he read an email confirming he’d successfully entered a competition with one of his best horses. He’d registered one of his most talented grooms, Sally, to ride Rougemont Reggie, an up-and-coming stallion of some four years old. He was green but had the ability. Nick was training both horse and rider at the same time. He didn’t expect them to be placed, but the experience would be good for his protégé and her mount.
He worked for the next half hour until he heard Tia trundling across the kitchen’s flagstone floor. Checking her over, he was relieved to see she’d dressed sensibly in jeans and sweater. Summer might be on its way according to the calendar, but no one had thought to tell the weather. It wasn’t raining (which made a change) but it was cloudy, and not particularly warm – a typical summer day in Wales, in fact.
He let her hoist herself out of the chair and into the car, biting his lip to stop himself from offering to help. He knew she could do this on her own and he had to let her. Besides, if he annoyed her now, she was perfectly capable of changing her mind and storming off back to the house. He wished he knew what was really bothering her, apart from the obvious.
Nick whistled to Billy, their border terrier, and Tia opened her arms to let him jump into her lap. As he drove he watched her out of the corner of his eye, as she nuzzled the dog’s neck, burying her nose in the wiry coat. She looked so sad and pensive, his heart went out to her.
Plucking up courage and knowing he was probably making a big mistake but going ahead anyway, he asked, ‘Do you want to talk about it?’
‘Not really.’
‘So there is something bothering you?’ Nick pounced like the ginger cat they’d adopted last year. Marmalade was a good mouser, as the gruesome “presents” left on the doorstep attested. He had a brilliant line in pouncing, too.
‘You mean aside from the fact I’ll never walk again?’ she stated.
Nick grimaced. He knew he was opening a bag of worms when he’d opened his mouth. ‘Aside from that,’ he persisted.
‘Nothing.’
‘Come on, Tia, I know you. There’s something else on your mind. Tell me.’
Tia shook her head, staring stubbornly out of the window for the rest of the short journey and Nick was forced to drop the subject.
When they pulled into the little car park down by the river and Nick drove into a disabled space, Tia rolled her eyes. She hated the necessity of using one of those parking spaces, but she needed the room to be able to get into her chair. She also hated it when passers-by stared at her whenever she hoisted herself into, or out of, the vehicle, so Nick surreptitiously stood behind her, using his body as a shield against curious or pitying eyes.
The walk along the riverbank did them both good, Nick thought. The path was wheelchair friendly, so Tia didn’t need him to push her, and they strolled together in companionable silence for a while. Every so often Billy would drop a stick in Tia’s lap and she would throw it for him and the pair of them laughed as he bounded through the long grass after it. The only part of him visible was his head as he leapt up to grab a quick look around; the rest of the time they only knew where he was by the madly waving fronds of grass.
Eventually, they turned around and went back the way they’d come. Nick was relieved to see Tia had some colour in her usually pale cheeks and there was a shine to her eyes. He really should try and make sure she got out more.
‘Coffee and a cake?’ he suggested. Seeing her hesitate, he added, ‘There’s plenty of room inside.’ He knew how difficult it was to manoeuvre a wheelchair in some shops and restaurants, and this was often the reason Tia would refuse to go in. She frequently said it was bad enough being in the damned thing, without having everyone stop what they were doing to look at the disruption she caused when chairs, and sometimes even tables, had to be moved to let her pass.
‘OK.’ Her reply was somewhat reluctant, but at least she’d agreed.
Peggy’s Tea Shoppe was busy, but there was a table free just inside the door, and Nick made a bee-line for it after holding the door open for Tia to wheel herself through. He eased a chair out of the way to give her more room, then turned to look around the café. He’d not really had much of a chance on the two other occasions he’d been inside.
‘It’s nice,’ Tia said. ‘Chintzy and cute.’ She peered at a nearby table. ‘I love the fact nothing matches,’ she announced. ‘It’s quaint and quirky.’
Nick hadn’t really noticed. He was too busy trying not to stare at Stevie, who was this side of the large display counter, bending over it to peer inside. She had a really nice backside, he couldn’t help thinking.
As if his thoughts had magically travelled straight from his head into hers, Stevie straightened up and looked over her shoulder, right into his eyes. He swiftly looked away, mortified she’d caught him ogling her. Little did she know, but it wasn’t the first time he’d done such a thing, and she’d been wearing considerably less then than she was wearing now.
He picked up the menu and pretended to study it, only to find Tia giving him a strange look. ‘What?’ he asked.
‘I asked you if this place is new but you weren’t listening.’
‘Oh, I think it’s been open a couple of months or so.’
‘I recognise Cassandra Curtis, but I don’t know the other one. Is she new, too?’ his sister asked.
‘Stevie? Er, yes, she bought the place.’
‘Do you know her?’
‘Not really.’
‘But you’ve been in here before?’ Tia persisted. ‘You clearly know her name.’
‘What’s with all the questions?’
Tia shrugged. ‘Just making conversation.’
‘What can I get you?’ Stevie said, and Nick jumped.
Tia smirked at him.
‘Is it OK to bring the dog in?’ he asked, gesturing to Billy who was lying quietly under the table and panting like a steam engine.
‘It’s fine,’ Stevie said. ‘I don’t have a problem with well-behaved dogs. It’s climbing cats that I disapprove of.’
Nick wondered what she was talking about but before he could think about it too deeply, she said, ‘I’ll bring him a bowl of water, if you like?’
‘Yes please. This is my sister, Tia,’ Nick said, trying not to look at Stevie. He had no idea why he was so twitchy around her. She was attractive, certainly, but he’d met other attractive women before, so why was he acting like a fifteen-year-old, all gauche and self-conscious?
‘Hi, Tia, nice to meet you.’ Stevie stuck a hand out to shake Tia’s. ‘What can I get you?’ she asked her.
‘I’ll have an Earl Grey.’ Tia said. ‘Do you have any cake? Nick promised me cake.’
Stevie smiled. ‘Do we have cake!’ she exclaimed. ‘We have lots of it! There are the staples like Victoria sponge and carrot cake, or the special today is a pineapple upside-down cake. Or we have eclairs, and custard slices, or if you’re feeling a little more decadent we have clafoutis, or macarons, or dacquoise, or—’
‘Slow down,’ Tia laughed. ‘You lost me at éclair. What’s a dacq-thingy?’
‘It’s a cake made with layers of hazelnut and almond meringue, with buttercream and a bitter-sweet chocolate ganache, and to give it a little tartness, I’ve added a drizzle of raspberry coulis.’
‘It sounds divine, I’ll have a slice of that please.’
‘Nick, what would you like?’
‘Er, just coffee for me please.’
Stevie batted her eyelashes at him. ‘Can’t I interest you in anything?’
‘Just coffee. A strong one.’
‘Yeah, you strike me as the strong and silent type,’ Stevie said back at him. ‘Coffee, it is, but when you see what your sister is eating, you’ll wish you had a slice, too.’
‘I won’t,’ Nick muttered under his breath, as Stevie went back to the counter. He watched her go, wishing she didn’t wiggle quite so much. It was rather distracting.
‘You like her, don’t you?’ Tia said.
‘Eh? What?’ Nick forced his gaze away from Stevie’s swaying hips and back to his sister.
‘Stevie. You like her. She seems nice.’
‘She’s OK I suppose. I hardly know her.’
‘This is on the house,’ Stevie said. ‘For rescuing me the other night,’ she added, immediately repudiating Nick’s statement in one sentence, as she balanced a tray in one hand and relieved it of its teapot, small jug of milk, and cup and saucer, with the other. ‘I was rude to you the other day when you came to check on me, and I’m sorry. I blame the hangover. And I was rather ashamed I needed a knight in shining armour to look after me.’
Nick didn’t know where to look or what to do with himself. On the one hand, he was delighted Stevie had thawed towards him (though he had no idea why he’d been so bothered about it), but on the other, he didn’t want Tia to get the wrong idea. For years, before her accident, she’d been trying to pair him up with this friend or that, and sometimes he’d gone out with one of them – he told himself it was only to get his sister off his back for a while, but the real reason was that he was a hot-blooded male and sometimes female company was exactly what he needed. But since the accident she’d not tried to set him up once (although he was aware she thought he and Miranda had a bit of a thing going on) and he’d not dated anyone of his own volition, either. He’d been too busy with Tia’s needs, the stables, his career – and his guilt, he couldn’t forget the guilt, because it reared its ugly head every time Nick saw Tia, or the wheelchair, or the ramp leading up to the front door, or any of the numerous other adaptations which had been made to the house.
Tia was giving him a very odd look indeed, and when Stevie went to fetch the cake and his coffee, she said, ‘I thought you didn’t know her?’
‘I don’t! Not really.’
‘You know her well enough to “rescue her” the other night.’ Tia did quotation marks in the air. ‘What sort of looking after did you do?’
‘She was lying in the road and I made sure she got home safely, that’s all.’
‘What was she doing lying in the road?’
This was the most animated he’d seen Tia in a long time, so instead of clamming up, which was what he would have preferred to do, he told her the story of how Stevie had gone out for a drink with Leanne and had come off rather the worse for wear.
‘Leanne!’ Tia laughed. ‘Poor Stevie. Even I know better than to try to keep up with Leanne. She drinks like it’s going out of fashion.’
‘I’ve learned my lesson,’ Stevie said, appearing at their table with two slices of the dacquoise, despite Nick’s insistence on only having coffee, and catching the tail end of the conversation. ‘Try it,’ she added to Nick. ‘If you don’t want it, don’t eat it.’
‘Then what?’ Tia persisted, once Stevie had left.
‘I drove Leanne home and went on to The Manor to deal with Edgar’s hunter.’
Tia gave him a narrow look, and Nick squirmed. ‘You told me about the hunter, but not about being a hero,’ Tia teased.
‘Oh, that’s not all,’ Stevie said, appearing at their table again and catching the last snippet of the story. ‘He came back after he’d sorted the horse out to make sure I was OK and he tucked me in and got me a hot-water bottle,’ she said over her shoulder, as she went back to the counter.
Tia shot Nick an accusatory stare and Nick felt his cheeks grow hot. Wonderful. Now he really did look like a total berk.
‘I had a responsibility,’ he muttered. ‘I’d have done the same for anyone.’
‘Would you, though?’ Tia asked. ‘She’s really pretty. Have you noticed the colour of her hair? It’s gorgeous.’
Nick had noticed, all right. It reminded him of the flames when he lit a fire in the hearth on a cold winter evening. He’d noticed her eyes too, a sort of smoky grey, and he’d noticed the smattering of freckles across her nose. And her lips—
‘What about Miranda?’ Tia interrupted his musing.
‘What about Miranda?’ he countered.
‘She likes you, really likes you.’
‘Does she?’ Nick rolled his eyes. Not again…
‘Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed, because I don’t believe you.’
Nick sighed. ‘I don’t feel the same way about her,’ he said.
‘Why not? She’s beautiful, and great fun, and intelligent and rich.’ Tia waggled her eyebrows at the rich part. ‘What’s not to like?’
‘She’s not my type,’ Nick protested.
‘What is your type, then? Stevie?’
Nick let out another sigh. ‘Stop trying to matchmake, Tia. I’m not interested.’
Tia was silent for a moment. She picked up her fork and took a small mouthful of cake, before returning the fork to her plate. Her face was pale, apart from two spots of colour, one on each cheek. Her eyes were downcast and her lips had narrowed. He’d clearly upset her, and he was annoyed with himself for doing so, but he wished she’d butt out of his love life. He didn’t have one, didn’t want one, and didn’t have time for one. Not now, not with the way things were. Romance was the last thing on his mind.
‘It’s because of me isn’t it?’ she said eventually. ‘I’m the reason you don’t want to get involved with anyone.’
‘Nonsense. I’m simply too busy. The stables take up all of my time.’
‘That’s just an excuse.’ His sister looked him straight in the eye and Nick’s heart plummeted to his feet when he saw the expression on her face.
She took a deep breath. ‘I’m going to move in with Mum,’ she announced.
Nick’s heart almost stopped at the unexpected news. ‘With Mum? But why?’
‘Because I’m holding you back, stopping you from living your life. It’s not fair on you, Nick. Besides, I’m fed up with living at The Furlongs,’ she added.
‘You love it there,’ he began, but Tia didn’t let him finish.
‘Do you realise how hard it is for me, watching you ride every day? I can’t do it anymore!’ she cried.
‘But you can, we talked about this. There are some great horses out there who work with disabled riders. We can get you a hoist, and a special saddle and—’ He paused. ‘What I’m saying is, you can still ride.’
‘It won’t be the same.’
‘No, it won’t,’ Nick agreed, ‘but at least you’ll be riding again.’
Tia put a hand on his arm. ‘I want to go back home, Nick, to Mum’s. Can’t you see that? I don’t want to stay here any longer.’
He closed his eyes for a second and thought about what she’d just said. She’d hate it, but if living at The Furlongs was such torture to her, then who was he to try to make her stay? She might be his little sister, who he’d cared for and looked out for ever since she was born, but she was a grown woman and he had to stand back and let her make her own decisions.
‘Is it what you really want?’ he asked.
Tia nodded emphatically. ‘Yes.’
‘OK, then, I’ll arrange it.’ He looked at the ceiling, a sudden sting of tears in his eyes.
He’d tried everything to help her, but it wasn’t enough. Maybe he’d tried too hard, suffocating her with attention, not letting her get on with things in her own way, trying to always be there for her.
Bloody hell! Anyone would think they were a married couple talking about getting divorced. Nick gave a sad smile, at the thought. It would take a couple of months to sort the move out, what with speaking to the council to arrange the alterations, and goodness knows how long that would take. But maybe it would give her time to reconsider, to change her mind…