Giving Chase (A Racing Romance) (Aspen Valley Series #2) (28 page)

‘You sure?’

It felt like a sack of horse nuts had been lifted off Frankie’s shoulders.

‘Yes, I’m sure, Pippa.’

Sat in her and Jack’s spacious lounge
, Pippa continued to stare at her in surprise. Her hand remained lodged in a Pringles tube.

‘But why?
I–I don’t understand. Isn’t this the sort of opportunity that all jockeys dream of?’

Frankie
half-nodded, half-shook her head.

‘I’m sorry to have messed you around,’ she said with genuine regret. ‘You gave me an incredible opportunity.
I really am grateful to you, but I realise now that I don’t deserve it.’

Pippa let out a shocked laugh.

‘Frankie, you don’t have to worry about that. Let me decide if you deserve the National ride on Peace Offering or not.’

‘I
don’t
deserve it though. This is for the best. Honestly, it is. Rhys deserves it more. He works harder than me, he’s a much better rider than I am. He really has earned the right to ride Peace Offering in the Grand National.’

Pippa looked at her with suspicion.

‘Did he ask you to give up the ride?’

‘No! Oh, no. He doesn’t even know I’m here talking to you.’ She allowed herself a small smile.
‘I wanted to surprise him.’

Pippa slumped in her armchair and blew a
curly lock of hair off her forehead.

‘Wow. Rhys doesn’t know how lucky he is to have you.’

‘I’m lucky to have him. Look how he saved me yesterday. Will you let him ride?’

‘I guess I’ll have to.
I don’t mean that horribly. I offered you the ride because I thought you deserved it, not so I could spite Rhys. Now that you don’t want it, I can hardly go out of my way to put a different jockey up.’

‘Rhys is a good guy,’ Frankie said. ‘And he really is the best rider around.’

Pippa looked mildly discomforted.

‘I don’t want to say anything because I know he’s your boyfriend. But okay, he is growing on me. I can’
t really claim to know him all that well.’

‘Not many people do,’ she replied. Hell, wasn’t she still finding out little things about him every day?

‘We’re going to have to tell Jack,’ said Pippa.

Frankie grimaced.
She’d especially picked a time when Jack and Rhys were on their way to Market Rasen Racecourse—far far away—to tell Pippa.

‘Do you think he’ll be mad? I feel like a bride who’
s cancelling her wedding a week before the ceremony.’

‘He might not be particularly happy to begin with,’ Pip
pa said, crunching into another crisp. ‘But then again, he wanted Rhys to ride Peace Offering from the get go so it shouldn’t take him too long to get used to the idea.’

‘I’m re
ally sorry to have messed you—and Jack—around like this. But I know it’s the right decision.’

Pippa looked sympathetic.

‘You sure? There’s still time to change your mind.’

Frankie clasped her hands and took a deep breath. After this, there would be no going back.

‘I’m sure.’

‘Your call.
Pringle?’ Pippa held out the tube and Frankie hesitated. She could sneak one, surely? She hesitated again.

‘Uh—
there aren’t any left,’ she said.

Pippa looked dubiously into the empty tube then shrugged her shoulders happily.

‘Ah, well. We’ve both got excuses then.’

*

With no rides that afternoon, Frankie pulled up outside her parents’ house in time for lunch. Glorious wafts of her favourite roast chicken teased her nostrils when she opened the front door. Doug and Vanessa were in the lounge chatting with the television turned on low.

Vanessa was first to notice her arrival and her face brightened.

‘Happy birthday, darling!’ she said, getting up and holding her arms out to Frankie. ‘Oh, my baby girl is growing up so fast!’

‘Thanks,
Mum. Don’t remind me.’ She returned Vanessa celebratory kiss and hug.

‘Don’t remind you? How do you think it makes
me
feel? I can’t believe it was twenty-four years ago that I popped you out.’

‘Happy birthday, lovie,’ Doug said, climbing to his feet. He too wore a smile on his face and hugging her, he rocked her from side to side. Frankie breathed in the comforting smell of his woollen sweater. It felt so
reassuring to be in his good books for a change. Not that it would last long, of course. Not after the news she would inevitably have to break.

‘I made roast chicken especially,’ Vanessa said.
‘With parsnips and butternut.’

Frankie’s mouth watered at the mention of all her favourite foods. It was moments like these that she resented her job. Injuries she could handle, but the
tempting smell of succulent roasting meat and vegetables was torturous.

‘Ooh, lovely, Mum. Dad’ll have to dish mine otherwise I’ll load my plate with far too much.’

‘Rubbish. There’re hardly any calories in white meat and parsnips are vegetables.’

Doug shook his head.

‘I’ll dish out for you, Frankie, don’t worry.’

*

Considering they were in one another’s company for the next hour and a half, Frankie thought she and her father were both doing well to steer conversations clear of Rhys (Doug’s doing) and Peace Offering (Frankie’s doing). Vanessa had helped, relaying the latest gossip passed on by Valerie “The Voice” Banks during her hair appointment the previous afternoon.

W
ith lunch put away and her birthday presents revealed—a book voucher and matching necklace and bracelet—Frankie felt she couldn’t postpone it any longer. It was a shame to potentially ruin the mood, but she felt her parents needed to hear it from her rather than via the
Racing Post
.

She helped her mother clear the table of empty plates while Doug opened a fresh bottle of white wine. Once they were all relaxing in the lounge, allowing their food to digest, Frankie didn’t feel quite so sure of herself.

‘There’s something I’ve got to tell you,’ she began.

T
he blood drained from Vanessa’s face. Her mother broke eye contact to look at Frankie’s stomach.

‘You’re not—
’

‘No! No!
Nothing like that.’

She swallowed hard and turned her gaze to Doug. He was sitting very still, unblinking.
Guarded. Frankie bit her lip. He was going to be so disappointed, she could feel it already. She looked down at her lap, unable to meet his eyes.

‘I went and spoke to Pippa Taylor earlier. I’m giving up the ride on Peace Offering.’

Silence greeted her. Surprisingly, Doug almost looked relieved. Maybe he was expecting Frankie to announce her and Rhys’s engagement or something.

‘You’re not riding Peace Offering in the Grand National?’ Vanessa said.

Frankie shook her head.

‘No.’

‘Why not? Who are you going to ride then?’

‘Nobody.
I’m not going to ride in the Grand National.’

Doug looked at her curiously.

‘Why’ve you changed your mind?’

Frankie paused before answering. Tact wasn’t high on her list of social skills so she took her time to choose her words.

‘I thought Peace Offering would have a better chance of winning with Rhys aboard.’

‘Rhys is riding him now?’ Doug’s tone changed in an instant.

Oh, crikey, Frankie despaired. Why was she even born with vocal cords?

‘It’s best for everyone. I don’t think I would’ve been up to it, R
hys is a much better rider and—’

‘Is this what he’s told you?’ Doug’s voice rose with his temper. ‘Did he tell you he was better than you?’

‘No, Dad. This was my decision—’

‘Like hell!’ he snapped. ‘I don’t believe that for one minute. Rhys is a Bradford. I knew right from the start that he was up to something. I knew it! I just knew it!’

A ball of tears swelled painfully in Frankie’s throat.

‘No, Dad! You’re wrong! Rhys had nothing to do with me changing my mind. It was my choice!’

‘He’s a scumbag, just like all the other Bradfords!’

Frankie jumped to her feet and glared at her father through glistening eyes. Her hands trembled in rigid fists by her sides.

‘He’s not! You don’t know him. Why do you find it so hard to believe that Rhys is a decent person?’ she cried. ‘Is that how much you think of me? You think that’s the only way I can get a guy as successful as Rhys to be interested in me?’

Doug stood up as well and pointed a finger at her.

‘He’s using you, Frankie!’

‘No, he’s not! He’s not, he’s not,
he’s not! He loves me. You’re not there! You don’t see it! You don’t know him!’

‘I know his type,’ Doug spat.

Frankie’s breath shuddered out of her. Even the tips of her ears burned with fury.

‘His type?’ she echoed.
‘His type being the Bradford type? What is it about the Bradfords which gets you so mad?’

Doug’s eyes flashed from her to a
stupefied Vanessa sitting on the sofa.

‘That’s beside the point—
’

‘Bullshit, Dad!’
Frankie shouted. Her parents looked at her in horror. Had she ever sworn at her father before? She very much doubted it, but right now she didn’t care. ‘It is exactly the point. What is the big secret? Why won’t you tell me what you’ve got against the Bradfords? I know you’ve got history. I met Ron McCready the other day.’

‘Ron McCready?’ Doug
was jerked out of his rage into surprise.

‘Yeah.
Remember him? Because he certainly remembers you. He also remembers Alan Bradford and how you were best man at his wedding.’

‘We are not going to talk about this, Francesca!’

‘Yes, we are! Because unless we get this sorted out, I am never going to understand why you are so against Rhys. Rhys has done absolutely nothing to you.’

‘
Yes, he has,’ Doug said, shaking his head. ‘He’s conned my daughter out of her Grand National ride. Why am I not surprised?’ He gave a mirthless laugh. ‘Those Bradfords are all the same. I should’ve known right off when you said you two were involved that he was up to something.’

‘Then tell me why you should’ve known!’

‘Doug, darling,’ Vanessa spoke up for the first time. ‘Let’s just tell Frankie. This is hardly fair on her.’

‘No, no, no!’ Doug boomed.
‘I refuse to talk about that–that…
rat
, Alan Bradford. Ever!’

Frankie crossed her arms over her chest.

‘I’m not going anywhere until you do.’

‘Well, you’re in for a long wait, sweetheart. Why can’t you just take my w
ord for it that Alan Bradford is a scumbag and be done with it?’

‘It’s not your opinion of Alan Bradford that gets to me, Dad. It’s the way you treat Rhys.’

Doug clutched his head and growled in frustration.

‘I don’t want to talk about either of them!’

Vanessa stood up and placed her hand on his shoulder.

‘Then let me tell Frankie.’

Doug shrugged her off like her hand was a tarantula and stomped past them both out of the lounge.

‘Where are you going?’ Vanessa called after him.

‘Out,’ he yelled back. ‘You tell Frankie whatever the hell you want. I’m not going to sit there and relive it all.’ The front door slammed in finality, making the windows tremble.

Frankie felt tears rise in her with a gusto she hadn’t felt since she was about ten.
She turned to her mother and stamped her foot.

‘Why is he being like this?’ she cried. ‘Why does he hate Rhys so much? He wants me to take his word for it that
Rhys’s dad is a scumbag. Then why can’t he take my word for it that Rhys isn’t like that!’

Vanessa heaved a sigh and sent Frankie a sympathetic look.

‘I’m sorry, darling. You’re right, he is overreacting a bit, but try not to be too hard on him. He’s had a tough day—he’s been putting on a brave face for you all afternoon.’

‘
He’s
having a bad day?’

‘Yes. That r
acehorse that he’s so fond of—Caspian, is it? The one that won that French race. It was on the news this morning that he injured himself in training. Had to be retired.’

On any other day, Frankie would have received this news with a healthy dose of remorse, but now her blood was up and Caspian was the least of her concerns.

‘And that’s his excuse for insulting Rhys? For walking out after telling me that my boyfriend is using me?’

Vanessa shook her head.