Free Riding the Storm by Heather Graves Page A

in this possibility or the future looked bleak indeed.
    Rebuilding the house was another matter entirely. Had Joanne survived, he would have been obliged to forget aboutTommy and spend whatever money they had on repairing their home. It was no surprise to find that his parents had no household or building insurance to cover these needs. Concerned only with the well-being of his horses and uninterested in practical matters or keeping proper accounts, Peter had allowed the household policies to lapse. In any case, there were usually clauses somewhere in the fine print to protect the company against ‘natural disasters’ such as this. Acts of God, they liked to call them – more like Acts of the Devil, Ryan thought.
    On top of everything else, he had the added heartbreak of losing Sprite. Although the solid brick stable block had survived the storm, all the doors had been blown off their hinges and the terrified horse had run off. Following advice he had gleaned from the internet, he had hung a strap with his mobile phone number and address around the horse’s neck but after several days of fruitless enquiries, he had been forced to give up hope. In any case, without the means to recharge it, his mobile had turned itself off. He needed to find someone with power to get it started again.
    It occurred to him that he had no one but himself to think about now and experienced a measure of guilty relief about this.
    Mike’s father invited him to come and stay while he made up his mind what to do. Glen Harrison had turned up as soon as the roads were clear, finding Ryan in the process of moving what he could salvage into the empty stable block to create a makeshift home for himself.
    Glen stared around, appalled by the thought of anyone attempting to carry on under such conditions.
    ‘You can’t possibly live out here, lad, it’s quite primitive. You’ll catch your death.’
    ‘I can’t leave, Mr Harrison. Sprite has been missing since the night of the storm and I have to wait and see if she can make her way back.’
    ‘Ah.’ Mike’s father stared at the ground for a moment, knowing he was about to heap more bad news on a lad who had already suffered enough. ‘We found the bodies of several horses caught in the river; it was moving too rapidly for them to swim and they must have drowned.’
    ‘That’s OK. If there was more than one horse, it wouldn’t be Sprite. She was alone.’
    ‘No.’ Glen hesitated before going on. ‘It was almost washed out but the remains of your notice was still tied around her neck, caught in the debris. We could see she was a thoroughbred rather than an ordinary pony but they had to bury her along with the others – it couldn’t wait.’
    This last news was too much for Ryan, who broke into painful, gasping tears. ‘S-sorry,’ he said, fighting to gain control as the older man awkwardly patted him on the shoulder. ‘But – but, poor Sprite – after everything else – it’s too much.’ He had to stop, his throat tightening with renewed grief.
    ‘Ryan, I know you can’t think past your mother’s funeral but in the short term you’re coming to stay with us. I know Mike would want us to look after you.’
    ‘It’s good of you, Mr Harrison, but I’ll stay here. I’d rather not be a burden to anyone.’ Really, Ryan wanted to stay where he was, retaining his independence and making his own decisions. He didn’t want to be ‘taken over’ by Mike’s father.
    ‘You won’t be a burden. You’ll be most welcome.’
    ‘But what about Mrs – um – she might not like it?’
    ‘Don’t you worry about Fiona – I’ll square things with her.’ Glen clapped the young man on the shoulder, heartily enough to make him wince. ‘Go on. Pick up a few essentials and come with me now.’
    ‘I don’t have much to bring – only Tinka, Mum’s little dog. Bit miserable, I’m afraid, as she doesn’t know what’s happening. She was very much Mum’s dog.’
    ‘Fiona’s marvellous