Andy's Story

Chapter 12

He sat huddled behind the bushes as he was told to do. He was watching the open green fields before him, his keen brown eyes taking in the emptiness, making sure no one came too close. Watch out if they did!

"Keep ye eyes peeled, ye 'ear. Don't let nobody come too close. Or ye life won't be worth livin', will it now?" This is what he had been told as his master had handed him a nice little piece, all silver and shiny like, to take with him. "Use this if ye hav' to. Ye know what I means." And indeed he did.

He compressed his lips into a grim thin line, and his brown eyes glittered. The day was a little chilly but he managed, he had been out in worse this winter, but why his master needed a winter run was beyond him. And why this place as a go-between? Surely the few folks up at the big house would be wise to what was happening round abouts on the property. This he pondered as he sat huddled behind his bush. Watching.

Always watching.

He wasn't a local. He'd come down from London with some of the others that the master had hire for the job. He didn't know anyone from the big house, although he was under the impression that it was all but empty.

He scanned the area again and became aware of the beat of hoofs on the ground coming towards him. A frown marred his squat little face. His heavy brown eyebrows drawing together as he once again looked around the grounds before him.

He looked once more to the left and saw the grey horse and rider approaching.

What the devil? He thought. The horse looked far too good for the rider, dressed as she was in an old navy blue riding habit, although good quality, from what he could see, it was several years behind the fashion from what he had seen the ladies wear in London.

And she was obviously not a local either, otherwise she wouldn't be here, all the locals knew not to come round here, and most stayed well away. She was bringing the horse closer, she was almost within range. Jist a little bit closer, he thought.

He watched as she drew the horse to a stop, just within range, and sat looking out at the view before her. As she turned her horse and looked once more out over the view he raised his gun in his hand and fired.

And don't come back, he thought with satisfaction as he watched the horse rear and then bolt with the rider trying desperately to hang on.

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Andy held on tight to the reins as her grey mare took off across the field towards Oakfield. The thunder of the hooves loud in her ears. Knowing she had to slow her horse she began fighting for control.

She pulled hard on the reins and after several attempts her mare began to slow, almost throwing her over its head as with her last hard tug the horse came to an abrupt stop, tossing its head from side to side. Both rider and horse breathing hard.

Her blood racing through her veins Andy rubbed her mares sweating neck murmuring soft words to try and calm her even further, the reassurance not only for the horse. As Andy looked around her she realised they were close to the house so she gently started her horse going again, taking a tight hold of the reins, for fear she might take a tumble, and keeping her horse to a walk.

As she made her way back slowly she began to think about what had just taken place. The shot that had been fired at her.

Was it a poachers shot gone astray? Andy wondered as she walked her mare the remaining short distance to the stables, or had someone meant the shot for her? Had someone found her already? Had they seen through her disguise? Had they followed her from London? But if that was the case why wait until now to do anything? Why shoot at her now? Why shoot her at all? It didn't make sense, if she was dead they wouldn't be able to touch her money, not even George could touch her money, if that was what they were after. Or was it that she was just in the way and they didn't care about the money at all? It was too vexing a problem for too fraught a mind at the moment.