In the Brazilian's Debt(20)

                ‘I don’t want to drop out. And I’m only too well aware of how many candidates would love to take my place.’

                Chico held up his hands to calm her. ‘Then, may I suggest you relax and make the most of your time here?’

                How close they’d been, she thought as a wave of wistfulness swept over her, and how far apart they were now. How fierce was her urge to hug him tightly and share her fears about her grandmother with someone who would understand, but there was a barrier between them that prevented her doing so. Perhaps the past would always stand between them.

                * * *

                Lizzie looked so vulnerable that he was tempted to soften, but then he remembered that the line of strong characters in the Fane family had skipped a generation. Had they skipped another with Lizzie?

                ‘If there’s a problem I expect you to tell me,’ he said in his firm tutor’s voice. ‘If money’s a problem, or you’re worried about your grandmother, I’ll buy you a plane ticket home.’

                ‘Thank you for the offer, but it’s not necessary.’ She tipped her chin up to stare him in the eyes.

                He stepped in her way, one hand resting on the wall of the stall to stop her. He felt vaguely nettled. Why did she always have to do things alone? ‘Just let me know if things change.’

                ‘I will,’ she assured him stiffly, not giving one inch.

                Losing patience, he put his hand on her arm to move her aside. She was warm, firm, tempting, but that stubbornness was irreversible.

                He followed her out, closing the stable door behind them, and then followed Lizzie down the line of stalls. He could see her concern for her grandmother in the tension in her back. He sensed she was holding back tears. Well, if she wouldn’t let him, he couldn’t help her. He supposed too much dirty water had flowed beneath the bridge for either of them to ever trust each other again. That thought riled him. He didn’t like being shut out.

                He was merciless with his students during that morning’s training. Pushing them to the limits of their endurance, he made them ride the trickiest horses bareback, informing them they would leave the class one of two ways: on a stretcher, or on a flight home. Frustration of all kinds was pushing him to the limit. He knew this, but didn’t let up. Lizzie didn’t falter, but she flashed him several furious glances. She knew he was punishing them; she just didn’t know why.

                ‘That’s it,’ he said at the end of the class, making a closing gesture with his hands. ‘I’ll pin up the results of my test outside the tack room. You know the drill.’

                They all knew that some of them would be leaving today, and his students were subdued as they left the indoor training ring to go and rub down their horses. Lizzie had dismounted, and having put a head collar on her pony, she was leading him with her other arm around her friend Danny, who was repeating the course, and who today seemed to have gone backwards in training, having fallen off several times. Not his problem. He had a report to write.

                He didn’t see Lizzie again until that evening when she knocked on his office door. He was in a better mood. Having put his students through the wringer, he had found his personal training to be rigorous, but productive, and he had thrashed his opponents on the pitch ten goals to six. His injured horse was well on the way to recovery, and the beer he was currently enjoying was ice cold. Sitting back in his favourite chair with his booted feet crossed, he was more than happy to receive a visit from Lizzie Fane. Until he heard what she had to say, though it began well enough, with Lizzie in the role of supplicant.

                ‘May I speak to you for a moment, please?’ she asked politely, shutting the door behind her with her usual care.