‘Keep it alive,’ Jake says. ‘Keep the stables running. Anyone who keeps horses here doesn’t need to change. Keep it profitable and growing without turning it into something hollow.’
Arty’s eyes narrow.
‘Developers have said similar things…’
‘Respectfully, sir, I ain’t no developer,’ Jake replies.
Silence fills the room. Arty looks deep in thought, until…
‘You don’t wear a ring,’ he says to me, almost accusingly.
‘I…’
‘You’re not wearing your engagement ring,’ he says, making himself clearer this time.
‘Oh, that’s my bad,’ Jake says, rummaging around in his pocket. ‘I suggested she take it off, when she was feeding the horses. That Biscuits will eat anything – appreciate you letting me ride her, while I’m staying here. I’m already in love. Anyway, here you go, Whit.’
He pulls out a small ring. It looks like an antique, with a warm yellow band and a milky opal stone at its heart, flashes of blue and green catching the light.
I take it from him because what else can I do? I slide it on to my ring finger, hoping I can style it out, whether it’s too big or too small, but unbelievably, it fits me just right.
Perfectly. Like it was made for me.
I swallow hard, trying not to stare at my own hand like it pulled a fast one.
‘Anyway, I’ll be frank,’ Arty says. ‘I don’t want to sell parts of Rosewood to just anyone. It’s not a business in the usual sense. It’s part of my family.’
Jake nods.
‘I understand.’
Arty’s gaze sharpens.
‘No. I don’t think you do,’ he replies. ‘People come here to get married, to promise their lives to each other,’ he explains. ‘They bring their families, their children. They create memories. They trust us with their horses, they buy horses from us – horses they treat like members of their own family. Every part of this place matters. And I’ve spent a lifetime protecting that. I didn’t let my father sell anything off to developers, and I don’t plan to do so either. Nor do I want a day to come where any prospective buyers feel the temptation.’
‘I would never do that,’ Jake insists firmly.
‘Well,’ he says slowly, ‘if you truly are building a life here… if you’re planning to settle down, raise a family…’
Jake places his hand on my knee and gives it a squeeze. I place my hand on top of his, showing him that it’s going to be okay – at least I hope it is.
‘Then perhaps,’ he continues, ‘you’re not as temporary as I thought.’
‘Just give me the chance to prove it to you, sir, I won’t let you down,’ Jake tells him.
‘You said your friends were getting married here,’ Arty says, turning to me.
‘Yes,’ I reply.
‘Well, our lodge, the one you’re hoping to buy, is sitting empty – we’ve paused renting her out for viewings. I’d like to offer it to you, and to your friends, to stay in, in the build-up to the wedding. It has three bedrooms, if you would like to invite anyone else. I think it would be a lovely way for the two of you to get to know the lodge, and for me to see you in it, see how I feel.’
‘That’s mighty generous,’ Jake replies.
‘I want to see what you’re like,’ Arty says plainly. ‘I want to see if I can imagine you living here. If I can trust you with Rosewood.’
It is a generous offer, for sure, and Jake must be over the moon to get to try before he hopefully buys, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel sick at the thought.
Jake, Andy, Cordelia and me, all under one roof, for a week! I’d say Jake and I could have separate rooms, given that it has three bedrooms, but that would look so weird. Probably best I offer it to JJ, have her around for moral support, plus working on book stuff. Let’s hope one of these rooms is a twin, eh?
