The Horse Thief Read Online Free PDF Page A

remembered the Cobb family. Using his mother’s name helped and, of course, the fact Kilhampton wasn’t on the property. There was no-one who remembered the little boy who’d spent his time hanging around the stables dreaming of a future. No-one who knew or cared about the family who had given their all and lost it on the whim of an irrational and disappointed man. How he wished he could remember more. His parents tempered their stories with so much regret and misery. No matter. He’d set the record straight and right the past wrongs. Kilhampton would live to rue the day he’d tossed his stud master off the property without a second thought.
    Pulling his hands out of his pockets he picked up his pace and caught up with Miss Kilhampton. ‘How should I address you?’
    She stopped and frowned at him. ‘By my name. How else?’
    â€˜Miss Kilhampton?’
    â€˜Yes … well … no … that’s not really necessary under the circumstances.’
    â€˜Miss India?’
    â€˜Goodness. No! It makes me sound like an old maid.’
    Anything less like an old maid he’d yet to see. ‘I don’t think I’d classify you as that.’ With her hair hanging down her back in a delightful tumble she resembled a somewhat dishevelled princess.
    â€˜India will do just fine.’ A smile played at the corners of her lips. ‘After all, we’ll be working together.’ She rested her arms along the top rail of the fence. ‘The mares are in here.’
    At the sound of her voice the group of grazing horses lifted their heads and ambled over. He cast a practised eye over the animals he’d glimpsed on his arrival last night. Although the stables and outbuildings were decrepit there was nothing run-down about the horseflesh.
    The animals ranged from black to bay and at the back of the group two beautiful buckskin mares frolicked. Their pale coats shimmered in the sun contrasting with their dark manes. As they drew nearer they gave an arrogant flick of their tails and his breath caught as the memory of the woman yesterday surfaced. ‘Buckskins.’
    â€˜Yes, they’re glorious, aren’t they? We used to have quite a reputation for them. They were always in high demand in Sydney as carriage horses and elite riding mounts. We only have these two left now. They were my mother’s favourites.’
    Beautiful animals. In the early days buckskin stockhorses had been a hallmark of the Hunter, but it was difficult to maintain the colour when breeding back to thoroughbreds for elegance. Breed two together and you were likely to end up with a bay or even a black. His breath caught. ‘So you sold them to the neighbours, then?’
    â€˜No. I don’t believe any of them stayed this end of the Hunter. Why do you ask?’
    The buckskins hadn’t stolen his breath. It was the thudding certainty the two women were connected. ‘Because I saw someone riding a buckskin yesterday, on my way here. I mentioned it to your housekeeper. She said it was a woman from a neighbouring property. I was worried. The woman seemed panicked, disturbed …’
    â€˜It’s time we went back to the stables. I have a list of things that need doing and I’d like to make a start.’ India pushed back from the fence rail and a muscle flickered under the skin of her cheek. She turned on her heel and set off for the house.
    Jim took one last look at the mares and followed. He couldn’t get the woman from last night out of his mind. This was the second time someone had brushed aside his concerns. He ran a couple of steps and caught up.
    â€˜Does your mother ride?’
    India’s face darkened. ‘No. I told you. She doesn’t. She’s an invalid who rarely leaves her room. Anya cares for her. Not that it’s any of your business. The horses are your business. Not my family.’
    The horses were his business. Keeping that in mind Jim