Ambitions and Horses at Bracken

  AMBITIONS AND HORSES AT BRACKEN

  The fourth in the new Bracken series

  Gillian Baxter

  Copyright © 2020 Gillian Baxter

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Cover image: Pixabay

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Printed in the United Kingdom

  First printing: April 2020

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter one

  Chapter two

  Chapter three

  Chapter four

  Chapter five

  Chapter six

  Chapter seven

  Chapter eight

  Chapter nine

  Chapter ten

  Chapter eleven

  Chapter twelve

  Chapter thirteen

  Chapter fourteen

  Chapter fifteen

  Chapter sixteen

  Chapter seventeen

  Chapter eighteen

  OTHER BOOKS BY GILLIAN BAXTER

  Chapter one

  The last thing that Guy Mathews saw before the crushing weight landed on him was the big golden brown body of his horse turning a somersault above him. Briefly everything went black as the wind was knocked out of his lungs and the next thing he saw clearly was the jump judge bending over him and the glowing dun horse standing on three legs behind her.

  The first his wife, Roberta, Bobby, knew of the fall came while she was feeding her two month old son Luke. The phone rang and when she looked at it she also felt the breath go out of her as she saw the number of Guy’s groom and work rider Dean Andelbayo who had gone to the event with him. There was only one reason that he would be calling at this time, when Guy should have finished his cross country round. Something had happened.

  ‘Dean, what is it?’ she asked. ‘Is Guy alright?’

  ‘They don’t think he’s bad,’ Dean sounded shaken. ‘Old Minos fell on top of him, but he’s awake and he can move everything. They’re still looking at him but he told me to let you know case you was to hear from someone else.’

  ‘Minos fell?’ Bobby could hardly believe it, Minos, the safe perfect horse who never seemed to make a mistake. ‘Is he alright?’

  ‘He’s lame,’ Dean sounded upset. ‘Can’t hardly put his foot down. Vet thinks it’s a tendon, he’s strapping it up so he can travel.’

  ‘What about The Miller?’ Bobby asked. Guy had taken two of his advanced horses to the three star event, he had been drawn to ride the black ex-racehorse first.

  ‘He was clear,’ Dean told her. ‘Looks like he might win.’

  ‘What about you?’ Bobby was trying to concentrate on the immediate problems and in her arms Luke began to squirm, annoyed at the interruption to his lunch. ‘Can you manage, or shall I get Heath to come?’

  ‘Guy reckoned he’d be back to drive home when they’ve done with him,’ Dean told her.

  ‘Phone me as soon as you hear from Guy, or if you need anyone,’ Bobby told him. Dean promised to do so and Bobby closed her phone, unhitched Luke from his meal, and headed for the door, pulling her sweater back into place. There was an indignant squawk from the baby, but Bobby ignored it. She needed to share this news with someone and was thankful that Heath was back with them these days after her instructor’s course. She was Heath Dawson now, having recently married the nice young farmer who owned the land next to Bracken. Four year old Rose was at play school and would be collected later by their faithful help and child minder Val Joyce.

  It was a damp and drizzly early April day and Bobby was glad to find Heath undercover in the tack room. She was predictably horrified by the news of both Guy and Minos, and like Bobby she found it hard to believe that it was Minos who had fallen.

  ‘He did fall once with me,’ Bobby remembered. ‘When Ellen owned him and couldn’t compete him herself and I rode him in the Badminton Grassroots final. He slipped that day taking off.’

  ‘It doesn’t sound as if Guy’s too bad, anyway,’ Heath sounded bracing, but Bobby knew that their red headed riding school manager would be as worried as she was. Heath had fancied Guy herself for many years and those feelings would still be there in spite of her marriage.

  It was an hour before there was any more news and then Bobby was thankful to hear Guy on the line.

  ‘I got out of that first aid tent at last,’ he told Bobby. ‘Some fuss about a possible bruised kidney and lots of pressure to get checked by my doctor and take it easy. Dean said the vet helped load Minos and we’ll be back as soon as we can. How’s Luke?’

  ‘Fine,’ Bobby assured him. ‘But Guy, are you sure you should drive? Heath could come.’

  ‘I’m not keeping Minos hanging about,’ Guy told her. ‘And I’m only a bit sore. Get Heath to look out the ice boot and have some ice ready, he’ll need that leg cooled after the journey.’

  ‘Is The Miller alright?’ she asked him, and Guy sounded more cheerful as he said,

  ‘He won his section, he’s well qualified now to keep moving up. He just flew it.’

  He rang off and Bobby went to report to Heath, taking Luke with her in his buggy. He was asleep now and Bobby parked him in the tack room after speaking to Heath and collected ropes to start getting her own horses in after their day in the field. At least Guy’s favourite event horse, The Dark Miller, had avoided any of his frequent dramas.

  It was another three hours before the lorry turned carefully in. The stabled horses were fed and the riding school horses turned out, and Bobby had checked the young horses and the mares and fed Luke again.

  Guy got stiffly down from the cab and going to meet him Bobby could see pain in the set of his mouth. He looked tired and dishevelled, his curly brown hair matted and a cut on his cheek bone. He turned to put his arms round her for a moment and Bobby said quietly ‘Are you alright?’

  ‘I’ll live,’ Guy touched her hair with his lips as Dean lowered the ramp. ‘Poor old Minos is worse than me, even if I was soft for him to land on.’

  The big dun horse certainly looked unhappy as Guy led him slowly down the ramp. Both his front legs were firmly bandaged under his travelling boots and he was

  sweating.

  ‘Dean, can you deal with The Miller?’ Guy asked him, and as Dean went up the ramp to get the black horse Bobby followed Minos to his stable.

  ‘What happened?’ she asked Guy and he said he wasn’t sure.

  ‘It was a box jump on a mound,’ he said. ‘No frangible pin of course, they don’t work with one piece jumps. It was quite an effort to reach the top of the mound and he felt a bit heavy taking off. Dean said he left a front leg behind.’

  He straightened up from unwinding a leg bandage and paused, looking at the unhappy horse.

  ‘You know,’ he said. ‘I’ve thought a couple of times lately that perhaps he’s reaching his limit. He’s always such a reliable jumper that maybe I’ve been taking his ability for granted.’

  He was looking drained himself and when Heath arrived with the ice boots she said, ‘You look as if you could with some treatment yourself. For goodness sake let Bobby take you in and mother you as well as that baby, I can cope with this animal just as well as you.’

  ‘She’s right,’ Bobby told him, and Guy actually nodded, gave Min
os a last pat and followed Bobby out into the yard.

  ‘I’ll just check The Miller,’ he said, but Bobby told him that Dean could perfectly well manage and Guy gave in.

  ‘Alright,’ he said. ‘But any problems call me.’

  Once in the house he collapsed onto the sofa. He was still wearing cross country colours and white breeches with socks and trainers although he usually changed before driving home and Bobby suspected that he had not felt up to making the effort. He said he would get changed in a few minutes. Bobby made him tea while in his carry cot Luke began to stir and then Rose, brought home by Mrs. Joyce, arrived and demanded to know why Daddy was sitting there. Mrs. Joyce, hearing the reason, took charge.

  You’ll have to rest,’ she told Guy firmly. ‘If you don’t that kidney could start bleeding and then you would be in trouble. Rest, no hauling any weights about, and keep drinking water.’

  ‘What a prospect,’ Guy closed his eyes, but Bobby knew that Mrs. Joyce would be right, she usually was. She had looked after Guy and his brother James since their mother, a close friend of hers, died when the boys were in their early teens and since then she had been Guy’s housekeeper and their child minder for Rose. She and her husband Ed now ran a bed and breakfast business nearby and Dean had lived there since joining Bracken from a city farm.

  ‘At least you can babysit,’ Bobby told him. ‘Let Dean and me cope with the horses,

  you can have fun with Luke.’

  ‘Great,’ said Guy, but he had to give in. He spent a restless night with pain in his back and when Bobby chased him off to the doctor next day he was given the same advice.

  ‘Two weeks, if I’m lucky,’ he told her crossly. ‘It’s my own fault, I should have realised I was pushing that horse too much. I’d not have been surprised if one of the others fell, but I never expected it of Minos.’

  Guy was not the only one looking unhappy. Minos was sore and puzzled by being kept in but their vet, Lisa, had said he must be on box rest. She had scanned the leg and found a nasty tear in a tendon, and prescribed cold water hosing four times a day, support bandages, and pain killers.

  With Guy out of action and Heath and her assistant Yolanda busy with the riding school Bobby and Dean were run off their feet. Guy had six eventers in work, The Miller, Lord of the Rings, who belonged to his sponsor, Ziggy, who was an intermediate, and three young novices in for him to start for their owners and now there was Minos to be nursed.

  Bobby had four show jumpers, her beloved mare Shelta’s six year old son Folly, partially deaf Star Man, ex-racehorse Frost and the difficult mare Lass who needed a fresh start in her career. Also, there were the brood mares and two yearlings and several liveries whose care was shared between Heath and varying help from their owners.

  ‘I’ll have to put Star Man and Lass on hold for a bit,’ Bobby told Guy, who unwillingly agreed. She had rushed in to feed Luke. ‘Heath can use Frost for some escorting but I want to get Folly going again. He needs something to keep him occupied, he jumped in with the yearlings again yesterday.’

  ‘Dean can work most of mine,’ said Guy. ‘All except Lord and The Miller. A short break won’t hurt them.’

  ‘I can ride them a bit,’ Bobby told him. ‘I need to get riding fit again. I suppose I should put this scrap on a bottle, but I wanted to give him a good start myself, like

  I did Rose.’

  She looked down tenderly at the feeding baby, his tiny hands kneading like a kitten’s paws, and Guy moved closer to her.

  ‘Then carry on,’ he said. ‘He’s more important than any horse and you’re doing a great job with him. There were times I thought this would never happen again.’

  He kissed her, disturbing the baby, who grunted an objection, and Bobby smiled at him.

  ‘I’m so glad it did,’ she said softly. ‘I was stupid to put it off so long, I was just so scared of it going wrong again, like the one I lost.’

  Bobby had suffered a miscarriage after which she had struggled with the resulting depression. It was the horses and Guy who had helped her to recover.

  Luke finished his feed and Guy said, ‘leave him to me now, nappies and winding are about all I’m good for. Get Dean to ride Applejack out and you could take Folly out with him.’

  It was a very inviting idea. Bobby handed the baby to Guy and went out into the glowing morning.

  Everything was shining, there was warmth in the air and Dean’s donkey Moses greeted her with cheerful bray from the small paddock which he shared with his two little Jenny companions. For a short time she could feel free.

  Folly was a big, upstanding five year old, the skewbald son of Bobby’s beloved chestnut showjumping mare and a marauding travellers’ cob. He was cocky and mischievous and showed promise of one day being a show jumper to be reckoned with if he learned to take life more seriously.

  Dean was pleased to ride out with Bobby. He had come to Bracken after helping at a city farm having only ridden bareback and he had developed into a good, efficient rider. He was a brown skinned boy of nineteen with black hair kept neatly cut by Mrs. Joyce, slim and hard muscled with a cheerful grin and he had become an essential part of the Bracken staff. Girls were starting to find him attractive and he was building a happy social life although he never let it affect the hours he spent working.

  It felt good to Bobby to be riding regularly again. She had gone on hacking out on her sensible ex-racehorse Frost and on Shelta, who was in light work after raising a foster foal, until three months before Luke’s birth, but Folly was too unpredictable.

  Today he was full of high spirits, bored with life in his field, and looking for trouble. He pranced along beside roan Applejack, one of Guy’s more experienced young event horses, spooking at the dancing patches of sunlight on the ground and at birds and squirrels, and Dean laughed.

  ‘Enjoys himself, don’t he,’ he said, and Bobby said, ‘A bit too much sometimes.’

  They cantered, the woodland track soft and muddy in places, and Folly saw crocodiles in the wet pools and avoided them with flying leaps while behind him Applejack cantered serenely on.

  Bobby enjoyed herself but when they got home there were still most of the horses left to exercise, Heath and her assistant Yolanda were getting a group of ladies mounted, and Bobby could hear Luke crying in the house.

  ‘You’ll have to go in,’ Dean told her. ‘I’ll see to these two. Sounds like Guy’s got problems with Lukey.’

  Inside Bobby found Guy hopefully rocking the baby in his buggy and looking exasperated and Luke red faced and angry.

  ‘He isn’t wet and he can’t be hungry again yet,’ he told her. ‘Rose was a lot more peaceful at this age.’

  ‘Perhaps he’d be happier outside,’ Bobby picked up the baby who promptly stopped crying and Guy said, ‘Obviously I’m not good enough.’

  ‘You don’t mean food,’ Bobby told him. ‘I’m just a walking milk bar. I’ll try putting him outside in the buggy, maybe he’s bored in here.’

  It seemed to work for a time anyway but leaving Guy looking board and frustrated while she went back to exercising with Dean she wondered how long it would be possible to keep him resting. Broken bones were different, the injury disabling and obvious, all he had at the moment was back ache and mild nausea although if it did get worse it could be more harmful than most breaks.

  By the time Bobby went back in, this time to have lunch and feed the baby again, Guy seemed to have come to terms with the problem better.

  ‘We’ll have to get more help,’ he said. ‘This yard was already stretching us, and now with me off and Luke needing you it isn’t going to work. Suppose this does take more than two weeks and anyway things like this can happen any time.’

  ‘What sort of help?’ asked Bobby. ‘Apprentice, experienced, ride or yard?’

  ‘Not an apprentice,’ said Guy. ‘We haven’t the time to keep to any formal training, and yard help mostly, though it would be useful if they were a competent rider as well.’

  ‘S
omeone like that won’t come cheap,’ Bobby was eating tinned spaghetti with one hand while holding Luke on her other arm while he fed. She knew this couldn’t go on, she would have to give in and put him on bottle feeds very soon. He was starting to look sleepy now and as he stopped sucking Guy gently took him from her.

  ‘We’ll have to manage it,’ he said. ‘That young bay I bought is going to make someone a nice riding club horse, if I sell him now it would help.’

  ‘With the money but not the work,’ Bobby stood up, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl. ‘You’ve got those two three year olds coming in from Colonel Crisp’s friend next week.’

  ‘Then I’ll have to find someone fast,’ Guy looked at her anxious face across the drowsy baby. ‘Someone will turn up, don’t worry. We’ll manage.’

  Out in the yard the first thing Bobby saw was her cousin Ellen, who had sold her ‘perfect horse’ Minos to Guy a year or so ago when she went off adventuring with a singer, Casey Lane, and his band. That had come to an unhappy end and she was back now living with her close friend Jay Ashford, not boyfriend, insisted Ellen, and his sister Darren. They ran a point to pointing and livery stable not far from Bracken.

  Ellen was outside Minos’s stable feeding him on slices of carrot and she looked round sadly as Bobby approached.

  ‘I couldn’t believe it when Jay heard what happened,’ she said. ‘Minos, he’s always been so good and reliable. Is Guy alright?’

  ‘Sort of,’ Bobby told her. ‘He says it wasn’t Minos’s fault, he judged it wrong.’

  ‘Guy always says it was his fault,’ said Ellen. ‘Will Minos come right?’

  ‘Lisa says we’ll have to see,’ Bobby held out her hand to let the dun horse lick her palm. ‘At least he isn’t too fussed by box rest, not like The Miller, he goes spare.’

  ‘That horse goes spare about anything,’ said Ellen. ‘It must be a bit hectic at the moment, Guy laid up and you with Luke.’

  ‘Guy’s going to try to find someone,’ Bobby told her and Ellen said, ‘how about me?’