Page 39 of Highland Getaway
‘Oh, please, they’re just like a bunch of big dogs,’ says Daniel, rolling his eyes.
‘Big dogs that could kill you,’ replies Hunter pleasantly, sounding like this wouldn’t bother himtoomuch, were it to happen. Daniel glares at him as ifhemight be the one doing the killing. Hunter smiles easily back, until Daniel finally backs off, shrugging as if he doesn’t really care whether his photos are ruined or not.
‘Just keep the hat on for now, babe,’ he calls over to Bex, making sure Hunter hears him. ‘I’ll have a word with Sabrina later and sort something out. Maybe we can organise a private trek or something.’
Hunter gives a snort that sounds a lot like a curse word.
‘If you could all put your helmets on,’ he says, ignoring Daniel, ‘we’ll make a start. The picnic baskets are already waiting for us on the beach.’
Everyone dutifully puts on their helmets (which, to be fair, do make us look a bit like LEGO people . . .), then Hunter goes around and helps everyone mount, spending a particularly long time with Millie, who keeps shrieking and kind of draping herself over the saddle with her perfectly shaped butt in the air.
I swear she’s doing that deliberately.
‘Do you want a leg-up?’ Hunter says from behind me as I gather Bramble’s reins in one hand, and attempt to get my foot into the stirrup, hampered by my slightly too tight jeans, which are restricting my movement much more than I thought they would.
‘Nope, I’m fine, thanks,’ I reply breathlessly, attempting to scramble into the saddle. ‘I can do it. I used to take riding lessons when I was a kid. I totally know what I’m doing.’
I attempt to raise my foot even higher, and amalmostthere when a loud ripping sound fills the air as the seam of my jeans gives way.
Oh, my God.
Blushing furiously, and with shrieks of laughter echoing in my ears, I tug my jacket self-consciously down over my suspiciously breezy rear, glad for once that I decided to wear my ‘big pants’ this morning. Before I can look down to verify this, though, there’s a movement from behind me, and Hunter picks me up, lifting me as easily as if Iwasn’twearing all my clothes at once, and placing me in the saddle as if I’m a doll.
It’s strangely hot, actually; although I suppose thatcouldjust be the thick jacket I’m wearing.
‘OK,’ says Hunter, taking a step back so he can see us all. ‘Unless anyone else has some drama they’d like to unleash, we’ll be on our way.’
He goes to his own horse and springs smoothly into the saddle.
He would.
The rest of us fall into line behind him (me sticking to the back of the line, so no one has to look at my butt) as he sets off at a slow walk, taking a gravel path around the outskirts of the castle’s ornamental garden, then following it down to the white-sand beach beyond.
‘That’s it, Bex,’ yells Daniel, who’s been following along behind us with Luna, both of them snapping away on their cameras as they keep up easily enough with our snail’s-pace progress. ‘If you could just look over your shoulder and give us a smile.’
Bex does as she’s asked, although there’s a murderous look in her eye which reminds me of the day I saw her arguing with Daniel in the grounds. Her long dress drapes over her pony’s back in a way that may not be practical, but which will look amazing on camera, and her hair is in an intricate, long braid down her back. If it wasn’t for the solid black helmet perched on top of her head, she’d look like some kind of Highland princess; which I suspect was exactly the effect she was going for before Hunter stepped in with his pesky safety requirements.
‘Almost there,’ calls Hunter, twisting around in the saddle to address the short line of riders behind him. ‘We’ll have our picnic on the beach, as planned, but we’ll have to be quick; I don’t think the rain’s going to hold off for long.’
I look up at the darkening sky, wishing it had occurred to me to buy an umbrella in the village earlier; it would probably be a lot more useful to me than a turnip, that’s for sure.
The thought of the village, however, reminds me of the incident with the bus earlier, and how it drove off without me.
Hunter thinks there must be some kind of reasonable explanation for it.
I’m not so sure.
But I guess there’s only one way to find out. And I know exactly who I’m going to ask.
Chapter 16
I urge Bramble forward until we’re level with Zara, who’s riding a grey pony, and trying to take a photo of the beach through its ears.
‘Hey, what happened with the bus earlier?’ I ask, deciding I might as well get straight to the point. ‘You all drove off without me.’
Zara looks over at me, her curly hair cascading over her shoulders, and still somehow looking good, even when trapped under the unflattering safety helmet .
‘Oh. Yeah,’ she says uncomfortably. ‘Sorry about that. It wasn’t deliberate. It was—’ she lowers her voice and I have to lean forward to hear her ‘—it was Bex.’
