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‘I’m sure he would have done. Did you ask him?’
    Tamzin dug him in the ribs with a stiff forefinger. ‘Cheeky bugger! You’d better get on with your work or I’ll report you to Fred!’
    She moved away, laughing, and after an appreciative look at her departing rear, Daniel went round to the back of the lorry. The attraction between them had been instantaneous, and although he’d fought it at first, he had eventually given in to loneliness and her blatant encouragement and asked her out.
    To begin with, it had all been very casual and Tamzin seemed to accept his reluctance to talk about himself, but of late she’d started to tease him about his ‘secrets’. Because of this, the relationship had begun to be a stress Daniel could well do without and he’d almost subconsciously started to back away from it.
    He sighed, wondering if he would ever feel able to trust anyone with the mess of his past.
    With the tailgate lowered, he began the laborious job of unloading. In the past, he had used the gym when he felt in need of a workout, but he had no such need these days. Some of the bigger farms had their own forklift trucks, but the smaller clients outnumbered those by far, and shifting heavy bags and bales of fodder and bedding all day long was keeping Daniel leaner and fitter than he’d been for a long time.
    As he worked, he watched the lads and lasses leading their charges out preparatory to mounting, the thoroughbreds’ thin skins protected from the cold wind by striped blankets over their loins. Daniel loved the horses. He’d grown up in the countryside, and he and his brothers and sisters had cadged rides on friends’ ponies from an early age. Since moving to Bristol and joining the police at the age of eighteen, he’d barely given riding a thought, until his transfer to the Dog Unit had brought him into contact with the mounted division at HQ and he had once more felt the pull of equine contact.
    Minutes later, the Quarry Farm string was mounted and filing out of the yard on to the road that led to the gallops, their many hooves beating a tattoo on the concrete and tarmac.
    Tamzin stood by the gate, scrutinizing her charges as they went past, occasionally speaking to one of the riders.
    â€˜Watch Shiner when you go past Tyler’s Farm, Maggie. He’ll throw a hissy fit if that bloody dog runs out – I don’t want him slipping and coming down on the road. Steve, take Romany quietly today – I don’t want a repeat of yesterday’s fiasco!’
    Daniel glanced up, wondering what form ‘yesterday’s fiasco’ had taken, and saw a rather sullen youngster slouched in the saddle of a lean grey horse. He knew the turnover of staff in the yard was very high – in common with many racing stables – and guessed that the unhappy Steve would soon join the ranks of ex-employees: he didn’t look the persevering sort. Turning back to his work, Daniel’s eye was caught by the rider of a chestnut mare, immediately behind the grey.
    With cropped dark hair and a boyishly slim figure, Daniel’s first impression was that it was a boy, but the size of the eyes and the fine bones of the face suggested a girl. It was something about that heart-shaped face that had arrested his gaze. Why did she look familiar?
    He left the lorry and walked across to join Tamzin.
    â€˜Who’s the girl on the chestnut?’ Daniel asked quietly.
    â€˜Which chestnut?’
    There were three chestnuts in the string of eight horses.
    â€˜The one that’s just gone out.’
    â€˜That’s Kat. She’s new.’
    â€˜How new?’ Kat – Katya. Could it be?
    Tamzin turned towards him as the last horse filed away up the lane.
    â€˜Very. Just a couple of days. Why?’
    â€˜Do you know where she comes from? What’s her surname?’
    â€˜I have to say I can’t remember. She just wandered in while we were