The Little Dale Remedy
You have to walk before you can ride.Still reeling from the accident that claimed her thriving horse racing career, her engagement and almost her life, Maddie McGuire was determined. Determined to ride again, though she struggled to walk. Determined to start a new life on her own two feet. Determined to keep her past, and her identity, a secret. And she was determined not to get involved with anyone. Especially a man like Ross Noble. Strange and dark and interesting as he was, she had no room for distractions, or romance. Everyone in the village said he was trouble. And she could sense it. But there was something behind his brooding intensity…
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You have to walk before you can ride
Still reeling from the accident that claimed her thriving horse racing career, her engagement and almost her life, Maddie McGuire was determined. Determined to ride again, though she struggled to walk. Determined to start a new life on her own two feet. Determined to keep her past, and her identity, a secret. And she was determined not to get involved with anyone. Especially a man like Ross Noble. Strange and dark and interesting as he was, she had no room for distractions, or romance. Everyone in the village said he was trouble. And she could sense it. But there was something behind his brooding intensity...
âYouâd better come in,â Ross said, his tone gruff and strangely awkward.
Maddie held her breath. Was he going to set off on one of his rants? She looked him straight in the eye, refusing to be daunted... To her dismay, her heart began beating loudly in her chest.
âAbout today...â
âYes?â
He lowered his eyes, concentrating on his bare feet. His toes were long and finely formed, with broad flat nails and a dusting of dark hair above the knuckle joints; they made him suddenly seem vulnerable, those bare feet.
Looking up with a surge of embarrassment, she met his dark gaze again; there was a hint of amusement in his face. âIâm sorry, thatâs all,â he said. âSorry for being angry with you, especially in front of Bob Nelson.â
âWell, he didnât have a bad word to say about you,â she remarked.
âHe is one of the few who didnât judge me after...â
âI know what you went through,â she told him. âAnd for what itâs worth, I wouldnât judge you, either.â
âWouldnât you?â he said, holding her gaze.
He took a step toward her, and suddenly, somehow, she was in his arms.
I do hope you enjoy this book. It is the third in my Creatures Great and Small series, set in and around Little Dale and the beautiful Lake District fells in Northern England. I was brought up on a farm in the area and have always loved its timelessness and ancient traditions. To be able to immerse myself not only in the romances I love to write but also in a place that is so dear to me feels like a real privilege. It is heartwarming to know that as time slowly passes us all by, there are places and traditions that never seem to change, places where our ancestors lived and loved, laughed and cried, just as we do now and as our children and their children will do in the future.
Enjoy, and Iâd love to hear your thoughts. Feel free to contact me at [email protected].
Eleanor
ELEANOR JONES was brought up on a farm in the north of England and learned to love animals and the countryside from an early age. She has ridden all her life, and after marrying her husband at just eighteen years old and having two wonderful children, they set up a riding center together. This is still thriving over thirty years later. Her daughter competes at the national level, and she is now a partner in the business and brings her adorable three-year-old son to work with her every day. Eleanorâs son is also married with two children, and they live nearby. Eleanor has been writing for what feels like her whole life. Her early handwritten novels still grace a dusty shelf in the back of a cupboard somewhere, but she was first published over fifteen years ago, when she wrote teenage pony mysteries.
I would like to dedicate this book to my dear Aunt Gwen
Contents
MADDIE SANK WEARILY into the well-worn, ancient chair by the open fireplace. The grate was black and cold, heaped high with ash and half-burned logs that had once brought warmth and cheer. Now the room was empty and kind of sad, an alien environment. A wave of homesickness washed over her, flooding her mind with images of her mum and dad and the comforts of home, making her question, yet again, why sheâd moved here, so very far away from all she knew.
Guilt niggled as she remembered how hard her parents had fought her spontaneous decision to leave behind the love and care theyâd lavished upon her, especially since the tragedy turned her whole world on its head. Sheâd been so determined to try to regain some independence and self-esteem after the accident, though, that getting away was all sheâd been able to think of. Perhaps sheâd been stupid; perhaps she should have stayed in their care longer. Perhaps it was too soon for this.
Impulsively, she reached for the car keys in her pocket. Of course she could just climb into her car and drive home. But then where would she be? Back in the protected cradle of love that stifled her dreamsâthatâs where. Well, she wasnât prepared to give up on her future...not yet. Fate may have moved in unexpectedly to shatter her dreams on a lonely road in the pale light of dawn, but she wasnât about to give up on everything that mattered to her because of one bizarre accident. If she was focused enough, then anything was possible. She just had to hang on to that thought and keep believing it. Sheâd worked way too hard to regain even half of what she used to be to give up on the next stage just yet.
