Ridden Hard Read online

  Ridden Hard

  Train Wreck Series #2

  Meg Buchanan

  Range Road Press

  New Zealand

  Published in NZ by Range Road Press, 2020

  Copyright © Meg Buchanan 2020

  The author inserts the moral right to be identified as the author of the work.

  All characters in this book are fictitious,

  and any resemblance to actual persons,

  living or dead,

  is purely coincidental.

  Cover designed by Nate at Hidden Gems Books

  Ridden Hard

  Train Wreck Series #2

  Meg Buchanan

  Meg Buchanan Starter Library

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  About Meg Buchanan

  More Meg Buchanan books you might like to try.

  Meg Buchanan Starter Library

  I’d love you to sign up for my mailing list and try some of my books for free.

  Link: https://www.megbuchanan.co.nz#signup

  Click on the link to sign up and it should happen like clockwork. You'll be sent a confirmation email and then the free e-books. After that you’ll get information on new releases and other goodies.

  If it doesn't happen like clockwork, please let me know.

  Link: https://www.megbuchanan.co.nz#signup

  Chapter 1

  Cole

  I GET TO WORK and pull up outside the stables. My boss comes over. He leans against the ute the way he does when he wants to talk to me, so I buzz down the window.

  “Are you doing anything special tomorrow, Cole?” he asks.

  “Not yet.” Don’t work on Sundays.

  “Can you take Milly to Hamilton?”

  “Yeah, if you want me to.” If Tom wants me to chauffeur his daughter around, fine, I can be professional about it.

  “Good. I can’t do it.” Tom steps back so I can get out of the ute. “There’s a couple of horses I need to pick up from Cambridge, and Milly’s got a One Day Event she wants to take both her horses to. She needs someone to help her with them.” We walk over to the stables together as he talks. “You’ll have to take the horse float though. I’ll have the truck.”

  “I can do that.” A pity, the horse truck is far easier to drive, and I’m used to it. The old float is heavy, and I’m not sure my ute has the sort of power needed to pull it.

  The smell of hay mingled with fresh horseshit hits as we go through the door into the stables. We find Milly in the stall getting Hunter, one of her horses, ready to ride. She’s in jodhpurs, riding boots and an old jersey. Her eyes, deep amber with dark brown flecks. The flawless creamy skin just touched by the sun. All class. And a couple of years ago, just for four weeks, all mine. But we were kids then. And she finished it just after she went away to school.

  She smiles when she sees me, and I feel that familiar flicker of admiration.

  In a daughter of the boss talking to one of the stable hands sort of a way, she asks. “Can you take me tomorrow, Cole?”

  “Yeah.” Like I said, I can be professional about this.

  Tom goes into the stall with her and runs his hand over the neck of the horse she’s almost finished saddling. “It’s all arranged, Princess, Cole will drive the float and help you with the horses.” He’s still completely unaware there was ever anything between us. Probably doesn’t think she’d stoop that low.

  He looks over at me. “You can take my vehicle. It’s got a bit more power than yours. Should make towing the float easier.”

  Milly flicks the girth off the top of the saddle and passes it under Hunter. “Do you mind driving the ute with the horse float, Cole?”

  I lean on the stall door. “No.” Then watch her and Tom finish saddling Hunter. She hasn’t changed, she’s still perfect. And I’ve just agreed to spend a whole day with her as her groom and driver. How did I let that happen?

  I’m an adult, I remind myself. She’s forgotten me or was just filling in time before she went to boarding school two years ago.

  I’ve moved on.

  So’s she I figure.

  “I’ve done it before,” I say.

  “Thanks, Cole.” Milly leads Hunter out of the stable. Tom and I watch her mount and then ride off towards the river.

  Yep, still cute. And distant, and completely untouchable. She used to be shy and lacking confidence, but she seems to have got over that.

  Tom tidies away the brushes Milly got out. “Better get back to the house and get some work done.” He comes out of the stall. “Midnight Shadow is coming on well. We might look at giving him a run soon.”

  “Good idea.” That horse is going to be a winner once we let him off the leash.

  Tom leaves, and I’m alone, just me and a couple of horse.

  I punch the rail of the stall. “Fuck.” How am I going to spend a whole day with Milly? Bloody impossible. It’ll be like treading on eggshells.

  I hit the rail again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Then grab it with both hands, sway head down, and bend and straighten my arms, doing push-ups on the rail, trying to get my shit together.

  Two years ago, we had four weeks. Perfect weeks filled with sunshine and sand and sex. But we were just kids on holiday. Then she went back to school. We never made any promises, and after a couple of weeks away, she decided long distance was too hard. Now she’s been home for a week, and we’ve spent that time pussyfooting around.

  I’m not sure where I stand. I want to be with her. I want everything back to the way it was. But it doesn’t look like she does, and I’m way too old to play these games.

  I should have had more sense than to get involved with her when I was eighteen. I worked here then, after school, now I’m full time. I should have more sense than to still be feeling like this about her.

  But I remember those four weeks as the happiest of my life and Milly as amazing. But then she left, and after a couple of phone calls, a few texts it all fizzled out.

  I push away from the rail. I’ve got work that needs done. Besides, I’m bloody twenty. Too old to still have a crush on the boss’s daughter.

  I get to the stables early to help Milly get the horses ready and load them. She’s in jeans and little ankle boots and has her hair braided.

  It takes us a couple of hours to brush Hunter and Wildfire and get their manes plaited. They look great.

  Milly leads Wildfire out of the stable and over to the float.

  I lead Hunter out.

  “Ready, finally,” says Milly. This morning, she’s detached but friendly, like the boss’s daughter working with the groom. And I’m being professional. But after a couple of hours working this close to her, I’m pretty sure I’m not imagining the tension, or the way she colours up anytime we accidentally touch.

  A holiday romance, that’s all it was. Milly slumming with one of the grooms at her father’s stables. Been known to happen. Luckily it passed under Tom’s radar.

  But I’m sure that pull i
s still there for her too.

  Tom comes out of the house, carrying a picnic basket.

  “Sustenance,” he says as he opens the small door in the front of the float and puts the basket in. Then he unbolts the tailgate and lowers it to form a ramp.

  Milly stands back holding Wildfire. “Cole, you load Hunter first, and then Wildfire will go in more easily.”

  “Okay.” I click at the horse and lead it to the ramp. Hunter tentatively puts a hoof on the edge of the timber and draws back. “Come on, boy.” I gently encourage him. After a bit of hesitation, the horse walks up into the float.

  “Good work, Cole.” Tom turns back to Milly. “Now bring her up. She should follow easily.”

  Milly nods, and I watch as she leads the horse up the ramp with no hesitation from Wildfire. I relax, two years ago that horse could be flighty.

  Milly fiddles around with the hay net and strokes both horses. “You won’t have to be in here too long. And Cole’s a good driver. It’ll be a smooth ride.”

  “I hope you’re right.” It should be a good trip, with the late model ute.

  Milly waits at their heads while I help my boss shut the back of the float.

  “Have you remembered everything?” asks Tom.

  “I think so.” Milly comes out the little front hatch and checks the ute’s tray. “My riding gear, grooming gear, a change of clothes, food for us and the horses. I think that’s it. Can you think of anything we’ve missed, Cole?”

  “I don’t know. Haven’t been to one of these things before.”

  Milly’s father gives her a hug. “I’ll see you both tonight then. Good luck.” Then he looks over at me. “Keep her fed and watered, Cole.”

  “Wildfire?”

  “No, Milly. She forgets to eat and drink when she’s competing. It makes her grumpy.”

  “I’ll give it a try.” But I can’t imagine Milly grumpy. When we were together, sometimes she’d be shy and hesitant, but I don’t remember her grumpy.

  I drive us to the showgrounds in Hamilton, and Milly sits in the passenger seat.

  “What happens when we get there?” I ask her.

  Instead of answering, Milly twists around. “I heard a bang; do you think they’re all right?” She tries to see out the back window into the front of the float.

  I flick a glance in the rear-view mirror. I can just see the tops of the horse’s heads. “They’re both still standing. One of them must have just kicked the side.”

  “I guess so.” Milly turns back and adjusts her seat belt. “We’ll go into the showgrounds, see where everyone else has parked and park there too.”

  She looks at her phone. “We’ve got ages before the vet check. We need to find out what time each of my events is on. Because I’m riding two horses, sometimes I’ll have to go straight from one to the other. You’ll need to have the other one ready for me.” She’s all business.

  “I can do that.”

  She smiles, and her face lights up the way it used to. I get that familiar flicker again. And push it down. Her dad’s paying me to be here. I’m here to help her with the horses, that’s it.

  “It’s good you could do this,” she says.

  “I’m getting paid.”

  “I’m still really grateful.”

  “Can’t you do the events without someone to help?”

  She shakes her head. “No, it’s too hard. Some of the older women do it on their own, and they seem to manage, but I couldn’t.” She turns again and watches the horses’ heads. “Do they look all right?”

  “Are you always this anxious, or is it just my driving?”

  “Sorry.” She bounces back into her seat and manages to talk about normal things. “We’re nearly there,” she says after a while. “Turn left at the next roundabout.”

  We find the showground and park the ute. There are already about fifty floats and horse trucks parked in a line under the trees, near some temporary pens. Horses, girls in jodhpurs, women, kids, men, flags and tents everywhere.

  Milly gets out. “We’ll get the horses out first and get them settled and then I’ll need to go and find what’s happening and when.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Just help where you can. I’ll boss you around.” No, not the hesitant girl she used to be.

  “Go for it.” I think we’ve had this conversation before, and it finished with Milly naked on the grass under some trees. I shake my head and move my mind to the job at hand.

  Milly opens the float’s front door. I go around the back, slide the bolts out and lower the ramp. Milly unties Hunter and backs him out of the float.

  “We’ll just tether them at the side of the float in the shade.” She goes back in and gets Wildfire.

  Once the horses are settled, we walk together over to the organisers’ tent.

  “Not too many males here.” Fathers and the odd boyfriend, but mainly females.

  “You’ll be fine then.” Milly grins at me. “All those leather riding boots and crops.”

  “Ha ha.” Of course, she remembers. Four weeks of great sex. And what did I expect? We’d just pick up where we left off? That was never going to happen. We’re not kids anymore. And I don’t even know if she’s going out with anyone. Besides, it’s only a couple of weeks since Amy and I split. And Amy was Pippa’s flatmate, and Pippa is Milly’s friend, so I’m pretty sure Milly knows about Amy.

  We reach the tent, and I watch from outside. Milly goes in, registers and then moves from list to list working out when she’ll ride. She comes out holding a couple of sheets of paper.

  “Find out what you needed to?” I ask.

  She nods. “It’s not too bad. Most of the rides have gaps after them. It’s only the dressage where I go from one horse to the next straightaway. If you have Hunter warming up while I’m riding Wildfire, I should be able to manage it. Now we’ve got about half an hour before for the vet check.”

  “Where do they have that?”

  “Over there.” Milly waves her arm at a cordoned-off area. A few girls with horses are already waiting.

  I walk beside her back to the ute.

  Milly watches the vet area. “It’s all very formal. I’ll have to get dressed properly, brush the horses again, and check all their plaits are still in. It takes nearly as long to prepare for the vet check as it takes to get ready to ride.”

  “Lucky you’ve got me to help. Groom extraordinaire.” It’s not that I’m flirting, it’s just I think maybe a bit of humour will ease this tension that’s building up.

  It works, Milly is still laughing when we get back to the ute. Then she gets serious. “First, we’ll finish grooming them, then I’ll get dressed.”

  “Okay.” I go around to the back of the ute and lift out the crate of grooming gear. It doesn’t take long to tidy up the horses. Fuck, I’ve been getting racehorses ready to race for years, I can manage to groom a couple of eventers.

  Milly goes to the back of the ute again and takes out the suit bag with her riding clothes, and the box with the long black boots.

  “Back in a moment.” She disappears into the back of the float.

  I finish up, wiping off the last flecks of dust with a rag. Hunter gives a nicker. He’s a good horse, much more settled than Wildfire.

  All around us, in ones and twos, girls are leading horses, all dressed to the nines in the white jodhpurs, black boots and long black jackets they all seem to wear.

  A bloody sexy look. Another jacket goes past, on a girl almost as slim as Milly, the back-vent lifts in the breeze showing a flash of red and a perfect rear end.

  Milly appears out of the back of the float dressed like everyone else, from the black boots to her knees, to the white jodhpurs, the black jacket that fits into her waist, the white stock tied neatly and pinned at her throat with a gold horseshoe brooch, her hair pulled back under a net. Whip in one hand, her helmet in the other. Stunning. Sexy.

  She does that hands at her sides looking down at herself thing. “
Do I look all right?” She always used to do that when she wasn’t sure she’d got it right.

  “You look great.” Not much else I can say. I’m not too sure about the hairnet. It goes with the outfit, I guess. But the boots, and that whip!

  “Thanks.” She nods at the horses. “They look ready, thanks for that too.”

  Both horses pass the vet check without a problem. We take them back to the float and saddle up.

  “We’ve got a twenty-minute wait until we have to be at the dressage arena.”

  “Just time to have something to eat and drink.” Like her father said, she does forget.

  She shakes her head. “I’m too nervous. I’ll eat something when I’ve finished.

  I go over to the basket Tom’s housekeeper Mrs Bennett must have packed and pull out a drink bottle.

  “At least drink something. Don’t want you fainting from dehydration.” Amazing how protective I feel towards her. Can’t remember feeling this way about any other girl. I remind myself, two years ago, this one walked away without a second glance.

  She rolls her eyes but takes the drink bottle, bites her lip and flicks a look up at me as our fingers touch. I ignore the moment. She perches on the side of the passenger seat, reads from a piece of paper and sips from the bottle, talking to herself and moving her hands.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Going through the test.”

  I haven’t seen her practice like this before.

  “Don’t you know it yet?” Over the last week, I’ve watched her practice the test a hundred times in her arena, on both Wildfire and Hunter. Surely, she knows it.

  “I’m just making sure.” She goes back to the whispering and hand movements. Then she looks at her phone again and stands up.

  “Time to go.” She hands the drink bottle back. Serious and concentrating. Not the flirting, laughing Milly she used to be when she was with me, and was when we were coming back from the vet check. Now its as if she isn’t even aware, I’m here.