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The Little Dale Remedy
Eleanor Jones
You have to walk before you can ride.Still reeling from the accident that claimed her thriving horse racing career, her engagement and almost her life, Maddie McGuire was determined. Determined to ride again, though she struggled to walk. Determined to start a new life on her own two feet. Determined to keep her past, and her identity, a secret. And she was determined not to get involved with anyone. Especially a man like Ross Noble. Strange and dark and interesting as he was, she had no room for distractions, or romance. Everyone in the village said he was trouble. And she could sense it. But there was something behind his brooding intensity…
You have to walk before you can ride
Still reeling from the accident that claimed her thriving horse racing career, her engagement and almost her life, Maddie McGuire was determined. Determined to ride again, though she struggled to walk. Determined to start a new life on her own two feet. Determined to keep her past, and her identity, a secret. And she was determined not to get involved with anyone. Especially a man like Ross Noble. Strange and dark and interesting as he was, she had no room for distractions, or romance. Everyone in the village said he was trouble. And she could sense it. But there was something behind his brooding intensity...
“You’d better come in,” Ross said, his tone gruff and strangely awkward.
Maddie held her breath. Was he going to set off on one of his rants? She looked him straight in the eye, refusing to be daunted... To her dismay, her heart began beating loudly in her chest.
“About today...”
“Yes?”
He lowered his eyes, concentrating on his bare feet. His toes were long and finely formed, with broad flat nails and a dusting of dark hair above the knuckle joints; they made him suddenly seem vulnerable, those bare feet.
Looking up with a surge of embarrassment, she met his dark gaze again; there was a hint of amusement in his face. “I’m sorry, that’s all,” he said. “Sorry for being angry with you, especially in front of Bob Nelson.”
“Well, he didn’t have a bad word to say about you,” she remarked.
“He is one of the few who didn’t judge me after...”
“I know what you went through,” she told him. “And for what it’s worth, I wouldn’t judge you, either.”
“Wouldn’t you?” he said, holding her gaze.
He took a step toward her, and suddenly, somehow, she was in his arms.
Dear Reader (#ulink_c45943ab-4779-5a8e-aefd-f9bb7473e4f0),
I do hope you enjoy this book. It is the third in my Creatures Great and Small series, set in and around Little Dale and the beautiful Lake District fells in Northern England. I was brought up on a farm in the area and have always loved its timelessness and ancient traditions. To be able to immerse myself not only in the romances I love to write but also in a place that is so dear to me feels like a real privilege. It is heartwarming to know that as time slowly passes us all by, there are places and traditions that never seem to change, places where our ancestors lived and loved, laughed and cried, just as we do now and as our children and their children will do in the future.
Enjoy, and I’d love to hear your thoughts. Feel free to contact me at info@holmescalesriding.co.uk (mailto:info@holmescalesriding.co.uk).
Eleanor
The Little Dale Remedy
Eleanor Jones
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ELEANOR JONES was brought up on a farm in the north of England and learned to love animals and the countryside from an early age. She has ridden all her life, and after marrying her husband at just eighteen years old and having two wonderful children, they set up a riding center together. This is still thriving over thirty years later. Her daughter competes at the national level, and she is now a partner in the business and brings her adorable three-year-old son to work with her every day. Eleanor’s son is also married with two children, and they live nearby. Eleanor has been writing for what feels like her whole life. Her early handwritten novels still grace a dusty shelf in the back of a cupboard somewhere, but she was first published over fifteen years ago, when she wrote teenage pony mysteries.
I would like to dedicate this book to my dear Aunt Gwen
Contents
Cover (#uaabda01e-9d94-5028-ba3f-31979a4c6406)
Back Cover Text (#ufc8944ce-200e-5054-86fb-2c247696d7e3)
Introduction (#u18e308a7-e506-5d03-bbe1-b274e3a87497)
Dear Reader (#ulink_f7fa6dc9-3c8a-5437-bd2a-61c25224eef8)
Title Page (#uf0196b21-d60b-52ac-b7a4-014bc421035c)
About the Author (#ud6a182e5-772b-5e0d-b023-73cec853b749)
Dedication (#ub91a7e24-b722-54b9-9ba9-e8ace8db865c)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_1b0133a0-f990-5d06-b565-4b00da481be9)
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_f0d55ec0-b40c-5dc8-939c-e8d3e5e1e051)
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_9fbe447f-6849-55d5-9dd0-171a9c9e33ad)
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_dd0a87ff-789b-5dbe-a705-67d255581172)
CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_ae08499a-30e6-5e99-95de-8aa9c5dad153)
CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_bd7e6bb4-52fe-584b-8c64-579b830ee913)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#ulink_033ab63d-838a-5cfe-bac6-46110541772b)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#ulink_260fae3a-ee3b-5e0c-ab15-d9cc93ef337a)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_b1db3fe7-61cd-522b-9bd3-d6117f8ac59a)
MADDIE SANK WEARILY into the well-worn, ancient chair by the open fireplace. The grate was black and cold, heaped high with ash and half-burned logs that had once brought warmth and cheer. Now the room was empty and kind of sad, an alien environment. A wave of homesickness washed over her, flooding her mind with images of her mum and dad and the comforts of home, making her question, yet again, why she’d moved here, so very far away from all she knew.
Guilt niggled as she remembered how hard her parents had fought her spontaneous decision to leave behind the love and care they’d lavished upon her, especially since the tragedy turned her whole world on its head. She’d been so determined to try to regain some independence and self-esteem after the accident, though, that getting away was all she’d been able to think of. Perhaps she’d been stupid; perhaps she should have stayed in their care longer. Perhaps it was too soon for this.
Impulsively, she reached for the car keys in her pocket. Of course she could just climb into her car and drive home. But then where would she be? Back in the protected cradle of love that stifled her dreams—that’s where. Well, she wasn’t prepared to give up on her future...not yet. Fate may have moved in unexpectedly to shatter her dreams on a lonely road in the pale light of dawn, but she wasn’t about to give up on everything that mattered to her because of one bizarre accident. If she was focused enough, then anything was possible. She just had to hang on to that thought and keep believing it. She’d worked way too hard to regain even half of what she used to be to give up on the next stage just yet.
Dropping her keys on the small oak coffee table, Maddie took a deep breath and stood up. She pressed a palm to her back to fight the pain that flared up, waiting a moment to let it settle before going into the tiny kitchen to fill the kettle. The sound of water starting to bubble and the fresh aroma of the coffee she unpacked from the box of groceries her mum had provided brought familiarity and contentment, reestablishing the single-mindedness that had brought her this far. This was the right decision; she was sure of it. She had overcome so much already, and she was determined to find a place again in the life she loved...or she’d die trying. Maddie’s every instinct told her that Sky View Stables held the key to her future. All she needed was the strength to see her plan through.
Returning to her chair, she sipped her coffee, reflecting on the new job that was just a stepping stone to what she really wanted. She may only have been hired as a general home help, but she intended to gradually try to work with, and eventually ride, the horses there. It might not be the promising horse-racing career she had been forced to abandon, but it was a start, at least. The doctors and consultants had told her riding again would be impossible, and her parents would have a heart attack if they knew what her real goals were but in Little Dale no one knew her history. Here, she had a chance to prove them all wrong; no one would watch her every move, no one would judge her and no one would look at her with sad sympathy in their eyes.
A loud knock took her by surprise. Who could be at the door? She didn’t know anyone from around here. Draining her cup, Maddie headed slowly down the hallway with a sense of unease and a sudden awareness of her isolation. The noise came again, louder and more intense as she approached the front door and opened it just a crack. A tall, dark, angry-looking man in his early thirties was on her doorstep, his hand raised high to begin the tirade of knocking yet again. A large dog stood behind him. Hurriedly, she slipped on the chain, gasping in relief as it slid easily into place.
“Yes?” she said, her voice deceptively cool. “Can I help you?”
“What do you think you’re doing in my house?” the man roared. “I want you out. Now!”
Maddie felt her anxiety drain away as her anger rose. No one was going to speak to her like that. She’d paid good money up front to rent this place, so what was he talking about? She had every right to be here. That knowledge lent her confidence. “What the hell are you doing here is more to the point,” she retaliated, meeting his gaze through the crack.
The ferocity in the man’s dark eyes swayed her slightly, making her aware yet again of how alone she was out here.
“This is my house,” he insisted. “And my guess is that you’re squatting, so if you don’t get out right now, I’m calling the police.”
Maddie held her ground, knuckles turning white on the door handle. “And you will look like a fool,” she told him. “I’ve rented this place for three months, and I’m fifteen hundred pounds down, so I’m going nowhere. Call the rental company if you like, but I’m not leaving until my lease is up. So stop harassing me...unless you want me to call the police.”
“What do you mean?” His whole frame deflated just the tiniest bit. “What rental company?”
Sensing the shift in his demeanor, Maddie held his gaze with fresh confidence. “Shouldn’t you know that?”
He paled beneath his tan as he turned abruptly away. “We’ll see,” he said, striding off toward the lane without a backward glance.
Maddie shut the door and quickly bolted it, her whole body shaking. There had been something so fiercely intense about the man...and the huge, silent dog behind him had seemed to echo his master’s expression. Yet again, she felt so alone. What if he had tried to break into the house? And what did he mean, anyway...it was his house? If he was really the owner, then surely he’d have known the cottage was rented out.
Hurrying to check the back door and all the windows, Maddie wondered about calling the police herself. He hadn’t really done anything wrong though, had he, so what could they do? She peered through the narrow window beside the front door and saw the tail end of his travel trailer pulling away. Well, at least he’d gotten the message for now. She’d just have to see what tomorrow brought.
Walking wearily into the kitchen, she poured herself a strong coffee and sat down at the small table, determined to put her annoying visitor firmly out of her mind.
Maddie’s thoughts wandered back to how she’d come to be here, all alone in this cottage in the middle of nowhere. She’d felt jittery on the long journey from Devon to the Lake District, she remembered, driving on automatic, her head crowded with doubts and apprehension. It was only when the sign finally loomed out at her, penetrating the fog that clouded her brain, that her spirits lifted. Little Dale—at last, the place that she hoped held a brand-new start.
The moment she’d seen the sign, she’d felt everything beginning to click into place. Now though, after her encounter, she was not quite so sure. A pain shot down her back, almost on cue, as if it had been sent to strengthen her doubts, making her wince and worry. She realigned her position, wondering how long it was going to be before her body felt whole again. And what if it never did? She pushed that thought straight out of her head; there was no place in her life for what-ifs.
Was she crazy to even contemplate having a career with horses again? Her parents had certainly thought she was making a huge mistake by going back to work too soon, especially when the job she’d found was so far away from home. She’d felt so guilty when she hugged her mum goodbye. The image of her strained, worried face in the rearview mirror had left a heavy weight in Maddie’s heart. But this was her life, and she knew what she wanted...had always known. Horses had been her entire life for so long, and the buzz of competition was ingrained into her soul; she couldn’t just let go of that.
Rose Cottage had sounded really nice in the ad, and when Maddie arrived in Little Dale, she decided it was probably one of the prettiest places she’d ever seen. The buildings were all gray stone, apart from the village store, which was painted white. They surrounded a small village green with a lovely old church on one side, and there was even a river running through the center of the town, with ducks waddling and quacking on the bank. The town seemed like a friendly place to make a fresh start.
She’d driven another mile before Rose Cottage appeared around a bend. It had felt instantly welcoming, small and quaint with a tiny front garden, standing all alone in beautiful surroundings. The view of the Lakeland hills and wide open sky beyond was amazing.
After arriving at Rose Cottage, Maddie had headed over to Sky View Stables to see Cass Munro. Maddie was starting her new job there tomorrow, helping Cass with chores and with her eight-year-old stepson, Robbie. Cass had turned out to be slightly built, very friendly and approachable and obviously pregnant. She had swung back her shiny dark hair and smiled at Maddie. “Now you know why I need help,” she’d said, patting her stomach. “And I didn’t want some experienced old nanny type looking down her nose at me, so I hired you.”
Maddie had smiled back at her. “Well, I’ve certainly had no experience, so you’re okay there.”
“Perfect. I’ll show you round. Do you know much about horses?”
Maddie had considered telling her the truth. Oh, yes. I was once a promising young jockey, engaged to my boss’s son, working with Thoroughbreds and looking forward to a long and successful love affair with the racing industry...until some prat knocked me off my bike early one morning, leaving me for dead on the side of the lane...
Biting her tongue, though, she had just smiled and given a little shake of her head. No sad, pitying faces and no one to judge her. That’s why she’d come here, and it meant keeping quiet about her past, no matter how nice Cass Munro seemed to be. “A bit,” she’d said, not wanting to be totally dishonest.
Now, three hours later as nighttime hovered, sitting alone in the secluded cottage after her disturbing visitor left, Maddie tried to focus on how much she was looking forward to tomorrow. Seeing the stable yard at Sky View had reinforced her passion to ride again, maybe even compete in some way, and she wasn’t going to let some rude, obnoxious, deranged man upset her. And he had upset her, if she was honest with herself, and had frightened her a little. Glancing around the cold and empty cottage, she picked up on a vibe she hadn’t noticed earlier. A sad and lonely vibe, as if someone had suffered here.
Taking a deep breath, she lifted her chin and stood up. This was ridiculous; she’d come here to put her future straight again and drive away the emptiness and fear that had filled her life for the past year and a half. It was her own vibe she could feel, simple as that. All that the cottage needed was a glowing fire in the grate, a good cleaning to sweep away the cobwebs and the aroma of the stew her mother had insisted she take.
* * *
OVER AN HOUR LATER, tired and aching but feeling so much happier, Maddie surveyed her handiwork. She’d found wood neatly stacked right outside the back door, and now flames flickered red and gold in both the kitchen log burner and the open fire in the small sitting room. The enticing aromas of wood smoke and stew simmering on the stove drifted through the cottage.
She pushed the vacuum cleaner back into the cupboard beneath the steep, narrow staircase then sank into a chair in the kitchen to try to ease the nagging pain that spread through her back and down into her left leg. She’d overdone it; she knew that by the way her leg was suddenly refusing to do what she told it to. Damn her stupid injuries and damn the man who’d caused them. She’d eat the stew and have an early night, she decided—build up a bit of strength for her big day tomorrow.
And as for the fierce and angry man who’d unsettled her with his unexpected visit...well, she’d just have to hope the rental company would sort it out when he called them in the morning. With a bit of luck, she wouldn’t even see him again. If he did come back to harass her, she’d just ring the police. And tonight she’d check that all her windows and doors were locked yet again...just to be sure.
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_ded170e5-f589-58a1-bb49-d6dfb18e9536)
A GRIPING, FAMILIAR pain in the region of his heart made Ross Noble lighten his foot on the accelerator of his big, old pickup truck. How could he have believed he would be able to just drive back into Little Dale as if nothing had happened? As the vehicle slowed down, he glanced in the rearview mirror at Meg, his six-year-old daughter. “Come on, Dad, we’re nearly there,” she cried, her eyes alight with excitement.
“Perhaps we should just turn around and go back home to Scotland,” he suggested.
Her face fell. “But you said that this was my real home.”
