Free A Man For All Seasons by Jenny Brigalow Page A

but he told himself it was for the best. He had to survive too.
    This time he made no attempt to challenge her. All the joy in the day seemed to have seeped away. He knew he was at fault but he didn't know what else to do.
    They crossed a narrow bitumen road onto another bridle path. The hedge that flanked the left-hand side was bereft of leaves and looked as if it had been dusted with icing sugar during the night. A large red brick house covered in ivy stood amidst smooth lawns. Two black Labradors lumbered down to the fence line, tails wagging and fat bottoms wiggling, as they barked half heartedly.
    Seraphim laughed and in the stillness, the sound showered around them in a fluting arpeggio. Then she turned and said something. She seemed strangely excited, her eyes as wide and seeking as the doe in the woods. But he didn't catch her words.
    “Sorry, what was…” Chad began.
    By way of an answer a large, cold wet lump of mud smacked him in the forehead. In a matter of seconds he was liberally splattered in smelly goo. Brushing the slop from his eyes, his sight cleared and he realised that Seraphim and Pollyanna had surged well ahead.
    Beneath him Dresden tensed. Before the horse could even think about a buck Chad booted him up. Keeping him on a short rein, he allowed him to accelerate. Ahead, the track widened and began to climb. As he watched, Seraphim stood in her stirrups and crouched over her horse's neck jockey style.
    She glanced back and her words carried clearly this time. “Hurry up, slow poke.”
    He couldn't suppress the grin that spread across his face. Cheeky woman. This time he wouldn't let her win so easily.
    By now Dresden was completely wired. His hold on the bit spoke of a determination to nail the opposition. Chad didn't argue and let him go. The young horse accelerated and raced up the hill. Within seconds they'd covered the gap and Chad pushed his way level with Seraphim. For one brief moment they were eye to eye. She glanced over at him, eyes shining and lips parted, then Dresden surged past and away, his superior strength and youth no fair match for the older mare.
    It was only as he began to pull up his steaming steed, that Chad realised what it was she had said before she took off. She had yelled, “Mind the mud.” It had been a calculated and deliberate ploy. Punishment.
    Question was, for what, exactly?

Ten
    By nightfall he was none the wiser. She'd been subdued all the way home; occasionally glancing at him, the hint of a smile about her full mouth, and making no secret of her amusement at his disreputable state. But she remained otherwise aloof.
    Of course this irked him no end even as he tried to tell himself it was for the best. Wasn't this exactly what he'd set out to do? Create some boundaries. Why then, did he feel so cheated? It was the very devil of a thing.
    In the yard he'd copped a good-natured ribbing from the lads over his filthy appearance. By the time he'd put away his tack, there'd been no sign of Seraphim. He tried to quash down his disappointment.
    He spent the rest of the day and the evening closeted in Wally's den, thrashing out the finer details of Can't Take a Trick's impending transportation. With Chad's flight due to take off the next day just after nine in the morning, there was much to do. Every time someone entered the room Chad looked up, unable to resist the secret hope that it would be her. But it never was.
    They ate off trays. Wally, obviously well pleased with himself, disappeared at eight. “Be back in a minute. Got you a surprise.”
    The surprise turned out to be a six-pack of real Four X beer. Manna from heaven. But Chad's delight waned as he clutched the familiar stumpy bottle in his hand. Dear God, it was room temperature! Nearly warm. But he thanked his host profusely and drank anyway. How he got through the bottle he'd never be able to tell. It was amazing what you could do when you had to.
    At ten the door opened. Almost by way of reflex action Chad