Josephine Cox 3-Book Collection 2: The Loner, Born Bad, Three Letters. Josephine Cox

earnestly. ‘You’ve proved yourself to me, time and again. But I have to admit, I’m not so sure with this one.’ He looked at the horse and thought what a waste it would be if they were to give up on him.

      In his usual, brisk way, he made an on-the-spot decision. ‘All right then. We’ll give him a month. If he hasn’t settled properly by then, he’s out the door, and no argument.’

      ‘I don’t think he’ll disappoint you.’

      ‘I wonder if it might be best to get somebody else in, somebody who could just work with him alone. What d’you think, Dave?’

      While they spoke, the stallion was fidgeting uneasily. ‘There’s no denying he’s a powerful fella, and he will need a lot of time spent with him,’ Dave answered. ‘But if it’s all right with you, I’d like to deal with him myself. Y’see, I’ve got to know him, and I reckon he trusts me.’

      Frank smiled. ‘Trusts you, does he? Well, that makes two of us. If you feel happy about that, then you have my blessing. But, like I say … a month at the most, and not a minute more.’

      Dave was relieved. ‘That suits me.’

      ‘Good. Now that we’ve settled that, I want to show you something.’ Frank glanced at the tower clock. ‘It’s nine o’clock now. Meet me at the gate in an hour, saddled up and ready to go.’

      ‘Go where?’

      Frank would not be drawn. ‘One hour. See you then.’ With that he marched off, hands in pockets and a satisfied grin on his face.

      Behind him, Dave quietened the stallion and made him secure, before searching out a capable groom. He found Laura in the bottom yard.

      ‘The boss wants me to go somewhere with him. Can you keep an eye on everything?’ he asked. ‘I’ve no idea how long I’ll be gone. Oh, and I need a mount. Is it OK to take Shamrock?’

      ‘’Course. It’ll do her good. She’ll be glad of the exercise.’

      ‘Right, thanks. Oh, and if you need help with anything, get one of the younger girls to give you a hand.’ He chuckled. ‘Or you could always fetch Thomas from the fields.’ He gave her a knowing wink. ‘That should put a twinkle in his eye.’

      When she blushed deep pink, he laughed out loud. ‘I’d best go,’ he said, ‘before you come at me with the pitch-fork …’

      There was time for a quick tidy-up, before he set about preparing the big Irish horse. ‘Come on, my beauty.’ He eased the saddle on. ‘It seems we’re going for a ride.’ Taking a moment to encourage her, he then swung himself up onto her back. ‘I want the best of behaviour from you,’he instructed; though he had no fear on that score, for this young mare had a kind and sensible nature. ‘The boss will have his eye on you, and being as I’ve already sung your praises to him, you are not to let me down.’

      When he arrived at the main gates, Frank was up and ready to go. ‘I’ve been meaning to do this with you for a long time,’ he told Dave. ‘And there’s no better time than right now.’

      ‘Do what?’ The young man was curious. ‘Where are we going?’

      ‘I’ll tell you as we ride.’ With a curt instruction he urged the horse on, leading the way through the gates and into the open fields.

      Dave was already familiar with the layout of the fields, and as far as he was aware, there were no problems out there that had not already been dealt with.

      ‘Is something wrong?’ he asked, slightly apprehensive. ‘I rode across the fields yesterday and everything seemed fine, except for the foal who caught her hoof in the brambles. But she’s fine now – seen to and put back out to graze.’

      ‘There’s no problem,’ Frank answered equably. ‘I just want to show you my empire.’

      ‘I thought I’d seen it all?’

      The man shook his head. ‘You may have seen the tip of it,’ he answered, ‘but you haven’t been to my other farms, and I don’t suppose you’ve yet managed to get out to Demon’s Lake, have you?’

      ‘No. I haven’t got that far yet.’

      Although he had been at Thomson’s Stud Farm for a good while now, Dave’s life was so busy that time flew, and his attention was mainly concentrated on helping to run the business. In his spare time, he did some woodcarving – mainly presents for this, his ‘adopted’ family, and helped in the house and garden.

      ‘You need to familiarise yourself with every square inch, and that’s one reason why I’m taking you out today, to show you the extent of my business.’

      ‘So, what’s the other reason?’

      ‘I need your opinion on a little project I’ve been considering.’

      Dave felt very privileged; it was good to know that Frank trusted him enough to ask his opinion on one of his business ventures.

      For the next two hours, they covered some 800 acres of land, part arable, mostly paddock. Then they were at the lake, a magnificent expanse of water, surrounded by spreading shrubs and trees. Even in the January starkness, it was a lovely place.

      ‘Why do they call it Demon’s Lake?’ Dave was curious.

      Frank was happy to tell him the story. ‘According to legend, a young girl ran off with the bad boy of the village; they were in love and meant to get married. But the father came after them, pursuing their carriage like a man demented. The horses took fright and bolted, the carriage ended up in the lake and the lovers were both drowned. The carriage driver managed to leap to safety, but there was no saving the couple. It was a tragedy.’

      ‘What about the father?’

      ‘Ah, well … he’s the demon they named the lake after. According to the driver, he was ranting and raving – calling on the devil to send the boy to hell. Then he threw himself into the water and drowned. The theory is, if he couldn’t save his daughter from the bad boy, then he would haunt them both for ever.’

      There was something about this tragic story that reminded Dave of the destructive passion of his parents’ marriage – and of his grandparents’, too. Tears stood in his eyes as he took in the serenity of the scene, all the time picturing the terrible sight of the accident, hearing the screams and terrified neighing, the surface of the lake heaving and then growing calm once again.

      With the sobering tale of Demon’s Lake strong in their minds, the men arrived at the furthest farmhouse. ‘We won’t call in,’ Frank decided. ‘If I arrive unannounced, they might think I’m checking up on them.’

      As he gazed across the horizon, a look of wonder came over his features. ‘I’m a fortunate man to have all this,’ he murmured. ‘Above all else, I consider myself to be custodian of this land.’

      Seemingly embarrassed when he caught Dave looking at him, he pointed to the rambling house and cluster of outbuildings and explained, ‘This was the very first farm I bought after Dad died. The farmer who owned it emigrated to Australia after the war. It was badly rundown, so I got it for a good price.’ He grinned. ‘Especially after I agreed to sign the tenancy to his nephew.’

      ‘It’s a grand-looking place.’ Dave hoped the tenant was thankful, to have such a beautiful home.

      ‘He looks after it well,’ Frank said, as if reading his mind. ‘I pay two visits a year to all my farms, once in the winter, and once in the summer. I find that’s usually enough, though if I get wind of any farm being neglected or ill-used, I have the right to snatch back the tenancy.’

      He smiled knowingly. ‘A short-term contract with that kind of clause keeps the tenants on their toes.’

      Dave was learning every day. ‘You’re a shrewd businessman, I’ll give you that, sir.’

      As they travelled on, Dave was increasingly impressed by the