I managed to walk almost to the end of my secret passageway before I heard the soft echo of footsteps behind me. Hurried yet precise steps, closing in on me quicker than I could get away from them. I rounded a corner to the left, heading up the short flight of stairs which would pop me out on the upper landing, just across from my room.

"Izzy."

His warm, gentle tone melted the ice prickling through my veins. The bitter disappointment at the turn in events had poisoned my romantic notions of him sweeping me off my feet, riding with me into the fading sunset. Why couldn't I be just a year or two older? Or even a month or two?

"Izzy, stop please."

I bit down on my bottom lip, fighting with myself over what to do. The brief second of hesitation was all he needed to take a hold of my wrist, turning me round to face his beautiful face. His coffee coloured eyes were swimming with concern, worry lining the edges of his features.

The air around us thickened in an instant to such an extent, I expected to see lightning sparking at the ground at any moment. My breaths became short and shallow as we stood toe to toe, the unknown looming over us as to what would happen next.

"What, Oliver? I thought we'd said all we had to say."

"No," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I hadn't finished at all. I wish things were different, Izzy. I wish I was younger or you were eighteen already or older even. It's just so—"

"Complicated. Yeah I got that before."

I stepped back only to find the solidity of the wall behind me. He followed me, closing the gap between us again. I suddenly felt very claustrophobic—I literally had nowhere to run. It looked like burying my head in the sand was out of the question this time.

"But I don't care, Izzy. I don't care how complicated everything is. I'm willing to risk everything on this. On you."

"Why though? You barely know me. Is it some sort of sympathy thing because of my messed up home life? The last thing I need is yours or anybody else's damn symp—"

He silenced me by bonding our lips together. Such a soothing, tender feeling flowed from him and straight into me, it left me breathless, mindless even. The limited experience I had of kissing the opposite sex paled in comparison to this. This was the difference between a man and a boy. But what must he be thinking? Would he be thinking this was the difference between kissing a woman and a girl?

Without kissing him back, I pushed him off, embarrassment and self-doubt swarming me. Heat flooded my cheeks and I loosened his grip from my wrist.

"I...I need to sleep."

I ran up the stairs, trying my hardest to ignore the burning stare from him searing a hole straight through my back.

***

I jolted awake, sweat pouring from me, and my heart vibrating like a jack hammer. Yet another nightmare about my father. When would this end? The sleeping tablets I'd bribed from Jackie were excellent but also lulled me into such a comatose state, it left me groggy all day. However, without them, this was what I faced.

It was always the same dream—my father kissing my cheek as he said goodbye to me before heading off on the Christmas Eve hunt, Bruno dancing around in excitement beneath him. He tipped his hat, a big, broad grin sweeping across his weathered features. His greying wisps of hair covering the nape of his neck were a stark contrast to his black velvet hat.

I stand watching his silhouette fade into the early morning horizon, the earth rumbling from Bruno's dinner plate sized feet cantering across the fields. And then they are nothing more than a dot against the weak December dawn sun. A wriggling black mass swarms around their feet, bays from the hounds coating the image in an eerie atmosphere.

And then they are gone. I start my morning stable duties, the local radio station streaming music over the quiet yard and keeping me company. It's when Bob Dylan stops singing about Knockin on Heavens Door and the music changes to Otis Redding's soothing Sittin on the Dock of the Bay that the blast of a shotgun pierces through the peaceful setting.

And then I wake up, coated in sweat every time, re-playing over and over the moment when my mum walked into my classroom at school, her face grey and gaunt before dealing me the devastating news. He'd died of a heart attack whilst riding with the hunt. I was advised not to see him in his coffin as apparently when he fell from Bruno, the horses behind him had been unable to avoid their...path so to speak.

I shook my head and peeled the damp duvet back from me. Wrapping my fluffy dressing gown around me, I grabbed a towel and headed to the bathroom for a much needed shower. The sudden memory of what happened with Oliver pinged to mind, making the trip to the other side of the landing edgy as I wondered if I'd bump into him.

Thankfully I didn't.

After I'd dressed and headed downstairs in search of food, I was surprised to see it was only ten a.m. Great. That meant I'd only had like four hours sleep. Why did I feel so bright eyed and bushy tailed? Perhaps it was over tiredness.

I grabbed an oatmeal bar as my breakfast and ran down to the yard, eager to see how the mare was doing. The second I strolled through the gates, Jackie appeared with a wheelbarrow full of muck, nearly running straight into me.

"Jesus, Izzy. You ok?"

I frowned, biting into my food. "Yeah, why?"

"You look shittier than this." She lifted the barrow up and laughed. "She's doing well—your mare. She's pottering around her stable nicely."

I grinned, a proud hope filling me. I left Jackie to it—from what I could tell, she was behind schedule already but that was nothing new. She was thorough and a lovely person to work with—that was like gold dust these days.

I walked as fast as I dare without breaking into a run and popped my head over the stable door. She had one of the foaling boxes so had plenty of room to herself. She was stood in the middle of her straw bed, bottom lip drooping and her big brown eyes glazed over with sleep. The scattered straw everywhere told of her wandering around and I couldn't get rid of the grin on my face.

"Hey girl," I said, scanning my eyes over her skeletal, battered body.

She was far from out of the woods but I knew she wanted to live. I'd seen the fight in her for myself. It would be months before she was back to full strength and fully healed—physically at least. The mental scars of what she'd endured would be something else entirely to overcome. But, one step at a time, she'd get through it—I'd make damn sure of it.

Upon hearing my voice, she startled awake, her ears pricking forwards and her head springing up. A soft nicker sounded from her, warming me right through to my soul. She lowered her head and took a step towards me, licking and chewing as she did so. Excellent sign. I was an avid fan of natural horsemanship and the fact she was doing this without even going through the 'join up' process only served to prove to me the bond we had already.

Without even thinking, I unbolted the stable door and stepped inside.

"Izzy! What are you doing? Get out!"

I turned round to see Oliver striding towards me, his handsome face creased with worry and panic. He grabbed hold of the top of the stable door and swung it wide open, reaching inside to take a hold of me.

"What?" I said, moving my arm out of his reach.

"You can't just go in her stable like that. You know nothing about her let alone the abuse she's suffered. You've no idea how she'll react to anything."

I frowned and stood next to her shoulder. I lifted a hand to scratch her bony withers and giggled as she curled her top lip back in joy.

"Yeah," I said, glaring at him. "She looks real dangerous."

He narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice. "Don't scare me like that, Izzy. It doesn't matter what you think or what you even think you know. You need to use some common sense where it concerns situations like this."

I dropped my hand from her, not wanting my anger to filter through to her. "Stop speaking to me like you're my parent or something."

"I'm n—"

"Yes, you are. You think I don't know how to act around horses?"

"That's not what I was saying. I just didn't want you to blunder in, acting first and thinking later."

"Right. Because that's what children do after all, huh?"

He sighed and ran his hands over his face. "Izzy, that's not what I meant. I just—"

"You're just being patronising, that's what. You failed to see her submissive body language she showed me before I even came in here. I wouldn't have been that stupid if I'd read her wrong. Give me some credit for my inexperienced seventeen years at least."

The mare broke the tension a little as she turned her head and nudged my hand back towards her body. I giggled when I realised what she was saying—scratch me!

"Don't forget that I'm responsible for you until you turn eighteen, Izzy. If anything goes wrong, it's on my head, not yours."

I listened to the little mare and continued scratching her withers for her. The scurf and dirt was already filling up under my fingernails. I couldn't wait until she was fat enough to sustain a proper groom and a bath. The harder I scratched, the more she twisted her head and neck round, her top lip protruding over her bottom lip and flapping up and down with her obvious enjoyment.

"That sounds to me," I said, keeping my eyes on the beautiful horse before me. "Like you're only interested in saving your own ass. Thanks. At least I know where I stand."

"Izzy—"

"Let me remind you," I said, keeping my voice cool, calm, and collected for the sake of the mare. "That you announced you were moving into my house. No one asked you to. I'm not going to act or be any different than I would be if you weren't here. I've survived this long on my own, I don't think a few weeks with a babysitter is going to change things, do you?"

"For goodness sake, Isabella!"

The deep, authorative boom to his voice made my heart skip a beat. The mare froze beneath my touch, a slight quiver taking over her muscles. I turned my head to see he'd walked through the open door and was now shutting it closed behind him.

"Oliver, you're scaring the mare. I think you should leave."

He turned round, his dark eyes ablaze with what I could only label as fury. He stared at me for what seemed like an age before he spoke in a clipped tone.

"Why can't you read between the lines here?"

I screwed my face up in confusion. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"What it says, Izzy."

I shrugged my shoulders and dropped my contact from the mare as I turned to fully face him. "I've no idea what you're talking about. Maybe I don't get it because I'm just a child."

My words were almost dripping with venom. Every part of me hated being made to feel inadequate, like my opinions weren't worthy because I was so young. Age doesn't mean you know everything.

His jaw clenched. "Stop turning everything I say into something about that. Your age has nothing to do with it."

"Stop telling me what to say and do. I'll turn whatever I want into whatever I want. Period. Deal with it."

"Are you always this infuriating?"

"Yep."

He let out a deep breath, his lips forming an O as he did so. "Izzy, why can't you understand—"

He didn't get to finish his sentence as the mare took her opportunity to shove me in the back as hard as she could, sending me flying forwards—straight into Oliver's chest.

"Even the mare gets it," he said, his voice barely a whisper. I dared to meet his eye contact and gasped. His fury had been taken over with a gentle edge, a tender essence surrounding his presence. He lifted a hand and stroked my hair back from my cheek. "I told you earlier that I don't care about the complications, Izzy. To hell with them."

I frowned. "And that means what exactly?"

"I like you. Like you, Izzy. It drives me crazy being so close to you, not being able to shower you in affection, show you how I feel you about you. Then you go and pull stupid stunts like this and it just reminds me how easily you could be snatched away at any given moment. That's why I don't care about the complications. I'll figure them out."

I bit my lip to stifle my growing smile. My insides were already heated mush but I couldn't help myself. "But you don't even know if I like you in that way. Kinda missing the key ingredient there."

Dawning realisation spread over his face and his arms loosened around me. "I...I thought you did...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. Please forgive me." He withdrew his hold around me completely, leaving me feeling cold and alone.

"Ok," I said. "I'll forgive you—on one condition?"

He dropped our eye contact, staring at the floor as a pink flush started to creep up his neck and into his cheeks. "Sure. What is it?"

My heart started practising gymnastics in my chest, or maybe I was actually having a heart attack. After all, sudden heart attacks did seem to now run in the family.

"Kiss me?"

*How did you find this? Are you relating to Izzy well? It's been a while since I was a teenager but I can wholly remember the infuriation at how adults looked down on you all the time! I hope you enjoyed this chapter - I'm really enjoying channeling Izzy's character - she's fun and a little unpredictable so who knows what will happen next! Thanks for reading guys - you're awesome :-D*

Oh, P.S. - I've finally settled on how I envision Oliver - the actor Ryan Paevey would be perfect for him - hence the picture for the chapter. I hope you like him ;-)