Chapter 59
Flora could hardly contain herself as Dylan drove his Jeep to the new training yard. He looked sideways at her and grinned.
‘You excited?’
‘Too right. I can’t wait to see it.’ She fidgeted in the passenger seat, itching to get out and explore her new place of work. They went through the new side entrance nearest to the stables, instead of having to pass along the main drive. And there it was.
Flora’s eyes widened. ‘Dylan, it’s fabulous!’
‘I know,’ he answered rather smugly. As far as racehorse training yards went, it was the very latest in design. A circular track had been made with rails running alongside in the field next to the yard, and an all-weather woodchip gallop for faster work on the horses ran along the far stretch. The stables could accommodate up to thirty horses. Dylan clearly intended to grow his yard into a thriving business.
Flora’s hands flew to her face. ‘Oh my God…’ She couldn’t take it all in. Dylan delighted in seeing the effect it had on her and showing it all off gave him a real buzz. ‘The BHA officer passed it with flying colours.’
‘I’m not surprised. You’d have to be mad not to want your horse here.’
Dylan nodded in agreement.
‘We’ve shown a few owners around and it looks promising. Hopefully in a few years we’ll be working at full capacity.’
‘We’ll need more staff.’ She looked directly at him.
‘I know, and we’ll get them, don’t worry.’
Flora set off for the stables to see the horses that had arrived earlier that day. It had been almost two weeks since she’d ridden and she was anxious to get back in the saddle. Dylan had kept her away until Samantha’s horses had been safely delivered, on the off chance Samantha may put in an appearance. The last thing he needed at this sensitive stage was the likes of Samantha putting a spanner in the works. Flora was just on the verge of trusting him again. He had loved her living with him and for the first time in a long while had felt fully content. The thought of her leaving filled him with unease. ‘I’ll tack up and ride,’ she said with gusto.
‘You’ll do no such thing,’ he reproached. Flora had only just fully recovered. He could see she was still a little weak. ‘Maybe next week and then only for an hour a day.’
‘Stop fussing. I’m fine.’ She pushed the stable door open and went inside. ‘They’re beautiful. What are they called?’ She gazed at their shiny, chestnut coats and thick black manes.
‘Zero Libido and Femme Fatale are their registered names,’ Dylan almost choked on the irony, ‘otherwise known as Libby and Femme.’
Flora stroked Libby’s flanks, which were deep and wide, ultimate breeding stock. Dylan watched Flora examine the horses; she was a true professional. One or two people had raised an eyebrow at him choosing Flora for an assistant trainer, but he was absolutely certain she had the ability.
As if in proof, she took out a piece of paper from her coat pocket. ‘I’ve drawn up a daily routine for us.’ She handed it to Dylan who read it with interest.
5.30 a.m. feed horses, check for heat/swelling in legs.
Muck out stables.
Tack up horses, mount and exercise – exercises for each individual horse to be discussed.
Discuss racing plans with owners and speak to agents regarding jockey bookings.
Late afternoon exercise.
5 p.m. feed and check horses.
8 p.m. check yard and check all horses are content for evening.
What a woman! He couldn’t have done a more thorough job himself. ‘Excellent.’ Flora smiled with relief.
‘I think each horse should have one rest day a week.’
‘I agree. I’m arranging a full blood analysis of each horse, too.’
‘How often?’
‘Twice a year.’
