Read Giving Chase (A Racing Romance) (Aspen Valley Series #2) for Free Online

enthusiasm so she kept quiet.
    ‘Next up. This is Twain, one of Billy’s lot…’
    *
    An hour later, Frankie finished her last stable. She removed her cap and wiped the sweat from her brow. Turning back to the horse tied to the wall, she patted the mare’s steel grey shoulder. She’d managed to muck out her other four boxes without having to resort to securing the occupant, but Blue Jean Baby was so restless Frankie had been forced to take defensive action.
    ‘There you go,’ she murmured, slipping off the head collar.
    The mare shook her head, which quickly became a whole body shake. The shudder unbalanced her and she flung out a foreleg to stop herself falling over. Frankie shook her head. ‘I wouldn’t have to tie you up if you could just stand quietly and not knock the wheelbarrow over.’
    The mare gazed at her with Bambi eyes.
    ‘Don’t look at me like that. Twice you knocked it over,’ Frankie reprimanded her. ‘And it took me twice as long to do your stable since you walked your crap all over the place. What sort of a lady are you?’
    ‘The box-walking type,’ a voice said from the stable door.
    A young woman, probably only a few years older than she, smiled at Frankie. She held out her hand.
    ‘Hi, I’m June. You must be Frankie.’
    Frankie stepped around the wheelbarrow and shook her hand.
    ‘Yes. Nice to meet you.’
    ‘I see you’re discovering the charms of Dory here,’ June grinned. ‘Walks every last dung ball into shreds then tries to help by tipping what you’ve already collected back out of the wheelbarrow.’
    Frankie gave a small uncertain laugh. Had she just spent the past half hour mucking out the wrong horse?
    ‘Um, I thought her name was Blue Jean Baby?’
    ‘Yup. But it’s such a mouthful. Dory’s her stable name. We took her hurdling last season. Jumped superbly on her first two starts then completely forgot how the game was played next time out. She’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer but she’s kind.’
    ‘So Dory as in Finding Nemo Dory?’
    ‘Yeah. Word of the wise: she’s a bit excitable in her work so we usually put her on the horse-walker for twenty minutes beforehand when her box is being mucked out. That way, you kill two birds with one stone instead of her killing the both of you.’
    ‘Thanks, I’ll remember that.’
    June winked at her.
    ‘And keep an eye out when she’s in the paddock. She likes taking herself off on little adventures. Doesn’t always remember the way back.’
    That earlier feeling of exhilaration at caring for Aspen Valley horses was swiftly losing its appeal.
    ‘Crikey, she sounds high maintenance,’ she said.
    The stable lass shrugged.
    ‘Just being a mare.’
    A rise in voices outside saw Blue Jean Baby aka Dory push past Frankie to see what the fuss was about. A group of lads and lasses had gathered around a corkboard on the wall between the office and the tack room. Sheets of paper attached to the board were ruffled by a gust of damp wind and one of the lads studying it put out a hand to flatten them. Frankie turned to June questioningly.
    ‘The work list,’ June explained. ‘Best go see who we’ve got.’
    With a quick smile, she left Frankie to finish up.
    ‘I wonder if I’ll be riding you, you crazy woman,’ Frankie said to Dory.
    The prospect was too much for one jittery mare to take. She spun round and tipped the wheelbarrow over once more.
    *
    By the time Frankie had reloaded the dirty bedding and deposited it in the muck heap round the back, the corkboard was deserted. Three sheets listed a table of contents of lot numbers, work riders and horses with the occasional alteration. Written in hand down the bottom of the list was herself: Francesca Cooper. Frankie grimaced. She hated the full version of her name. Why her parents had even called her that, she didn’t know. It was so girly and besides, she’d always been called Frankie. Alongside her name in lot order were Twain, Dory, Foxtail Lily, Aztec Gold