Courtney stood at the fence, squinting against the sun, looking at the horses in the home paddock. ‘You said any one of them?’ ‘Not the roan and...not the little black over there, it’s a bit lame.’ ‘What’s wrong with the roan?’ ‘Nothing, but it’s a bit of a jumper Miss … I mean Courtney. ‘It can catch an unwary rider out by going over the fence when he’s expecting to go through the gate.’ ‘Then I’ll have that one.’ That little exchange made Matt smile. It brought back memories of his introduction. Getting home was going to be by taxi for most folks. Peter insisted that we call him to pick us up. Since it was one less unknown in the loop, I agreed.I had the derringer safely tucked into my evening bag. No make up, no lipstick, no money, just a debit card and my derringer inside the white cloth pouch. Sylvia carried my throwaway cell phone in her purse. So the funky coat wasn't necessary after all. The limo was overly warm no doubt because everyone he drove all night would be only half. More

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