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rigid-backed down the hill. Every big gaudy rose splayed across her bottom felt like a stabbing source of personal torment. The arrogant louse had laughed at her! But, she reflected uncomfortably, he could hardly have missed the juvenile way she had blushed and stared at him with eyes on stalks. Any guy that handsome had to be aware of his effect on women, so he was certain to have noticed. What on earth had come over her? She cringed with chagrin.
    As if that were not bad enough, that crack about organic vegetables had hit her on the raw as well. Why shouldn’t she want to have a bit of a go at growing things? It seemed Mr McNally, the solicitor, had repeated everything she’d said—but then why should he not have? She had not asked the poor man to keep her aspirations to get down and dirty in the vegetable patch a big dark secret. Since when had she become so over-sensitive?
    After a quick shower, and an even faster breakfast, Harriet began to plan the rebirth of the livery yard in greater detail. A proper name for the business and a sign out on the road would be the first step. Lost in thought, she stroked Samson’s silky ears until the little dog sighed with contentment. She would have to do some research to see which services were most likely to be in demand locallyand check out the competition. She also needed to get moving on a repair programme, and talk to Fergal to find out exactly what his unofficial partnership with Kathleen had entailed. Someone to supply help and cover in what was basically a twenty-four-seven business would be very useful, Harriet conceded thoughtfully.
    Fergal Gibson drove into the yard just as Pluto was being led out of the huge horsebox that had arrived from Flynn Court.
    ‘What happened?’ he exclaimed. ‘How did Pluto get out?’
    ‘The stable door’s damaged,’ Harriet told him. ‘I think he kicked his way out, but I have no idea why.’
    ‘It could have been Flynn’s helicopter coming in.’ Fergal ran careful hands over the restive stallion in search of injury and with a relieved sigh put him into another stall. ‘I’m really sorry. I’ll put up another bolt. Catching him must’ve been a nightmare.’
    ‘Rafael Flynn caught him,’ Harriet admitted ruefully.
    Fergal chuckled. ‘Women and horses. Now, there is a guy with the magic touch. I hear that he can make them do anything for him.’
    Her blue eyes gleamed. She was tempted to quip that that was no doubt why Rafael Flynn appeared to have such a good opinion of himself. ‘Is he married?’
    ‘Are you joking? I hear his latest lady is some famous fashion model.’
    Thinking of the woman she had seen, Harriet thought that figured, and she told Fergal to come inside for tea when he had finished in the yard.
    ‘One of the local farmers has been looking after Kathleen’s animals for you,’ he informed her then, washing his hands at the sink with the ease of someone very much at home with his surroundings. ‘You’d best decide what you want done with them.’
    ‘Animals?’
    ‘Kathleen has a soft touch for strays. There’s an old mare called Snowball that she rescued, and she can still be ridden. There’s a pig too…oh, yeah, and chickens, ex-battery farm inmates,’ Fergal explained ruefully. ‘We’re talking pets and charity cases here, not pedigrees. I had them moved before Eugene McNally did his inventory because he would’ve had them put down. Now you can make the tough decisions.’
    Harriet was already smiling at the prospect of a readymade family of livestock which would provide a vital link back to the cousin whom she had to thank for her inheritance. ‘If they had a home with Kathleen they’ll have a home with me.’
    His tanned face broke into a warm, attractive grin.
    ‘Right.’ Harriet curved her hands round the mugof tea in front of her and breathed in deep. ‘You’re using the stables here…’
    ‘I was hoping we could come to an arrangement,’ Fergal admitted.
    ‘I’d like that if