Free Giving Chase (A Racing Romance) (Aspen Valley Series #2) by Hannah Hooton

abruptly stopped.
    ‘Do you know what else was this week?’ Doug asked.
    Frankie hung her head and nodded. The thrill of starting at Aspen Valley with all its champions seeped away to be replaced with an acute sense of guilt.
    ‘I didn’t forget,’ she muttered.
    Doug turned to her, his eyes almost accusatory.
    ‘I didn’t see any flowers on his grave. Didn’t you go see him?’
    ‘Dad, I was busy with the new job. I couldn’t get there on the day. I did light a candle for him though.’
    ‘It’s just one day a year, Francesca. One day! And you couldn’t even find the time to pay your respects to your brother. Seth always made time for you!’
    All of a sudden, Frankie felt close to tears.
    ‘He would also understand that I’ve just been given a massive career boost—the same one that he got before his accident—and that maybe that might take priority.’
    Doug stared at her, bewilderment swimming in his eyes.
    ‘Priority over your own brother?’
    Frankie looked away. She gave a defensive shrug.
    ‘He’s dead. I’ve visited his grave every anniversary for the past five years. This year I lit a candle. What’s the difference?’
    An awkward silence fell. Frankie swallowed the lump at the back of her throat, but daren’t look at her father in case his hurt triggered the waterworks. With the hairdryer now switched off downstairs, the commentary from the television blared around the house. ‘Caspian makes a late charge! He has the lead! He’s got it! Caspian wins the Arc de Triomphe! The Epsom Derby and Champion Stakes winner adds another Group One to his tally. He must surely clinch the Horse of the Year title with that!’ Doug and Frankie sat in stony silence.
    ‘How much did you win?’ she asked eventually.
    ‘Two hundred and twenty-five,’ he replied without enthusiasm.
    ‘Maybe I should go see Mum,’ she began, but her mobile phone vibrating in her pocket stalled her exit. She twisted on the chair arm to retrieve it.
    Number withheld .
    ‘Hello?’
    ‘Hello, Frankie? It’s Pippa Taylor. Remember me? We met at the Golden Miller.’
    ‘How could I forget?’ Frankie gave Doug a brief look then took herself into the kitchen for some privacy.
    *
    ‘I saw you won today. Congratulations! Jack tells me it was only your third ride too.’
    ‘Oh, um, thank you.’ A small frown creased Frankie’s brow. This was going a bit beyond the call of duty, wasn’t it? Yes, she was thrilled she had won a race so soon into her partnership with Aspen Valley, but it wasn’t an earth-shattering event for anyone else and certainly didn’t warrant her boss’ s fiancée ringing up. Maybe Pippa was the exception to the rule though, she reconsidered, remembering how Pippa and labouring Emmie had appeared very good friends.
    Pippa gave a nervy laugh and Frankie rethought again. Maybe this wasn’t the norm. Her blood froze. Was she being fired, but Jack didn’t have the balls to do it himself? She had fallen off her second ride. These irrational thoughts broke a cold sweat over her body.
    ‘You’re probably wondering why I’m ringing,’ Pippa said.
    ‘A little, I must admit.’ She pushed the kitchen door to. If she was going to get fired she would probably cry and she didn’t want her father to witness her tears.
    Pippa cleared her throat.
    ‘Do you remember the conversation we had that night at the hospital?’ she asked.
    Frankie wildly sifted through her memory bank. Most memories of that night involved Emmie howling in pain, Emmie getting stuck in the car and poor Billy getting his head bitten off.
    ‘Er…’
    ‘We were talking about Peace Offering; about the Grand National and your rea sons for wanting to ride in it.’
    ‘Oh yes. I said I wanted to win the National for—’
    Through the slit in the door, Frankie watched her father slumped in his armchair. The tired lines on his face seemed etched deeper as he mourned the loss of his son once more. How could she ever make him smile