The Red Velvet Horse (Siren Publishing Allure) by Iona Blair

address?
    However, I had put my address on the envelope, so if that were the case, the letter would have been returned to me by now.
    As Tom lived with his mother and sister, it is unlikely that the whole family had moved without leaving some sort of contact information behind them.
    This then is how the gloomy thoughts paraded themselves through my miserable mind, often jostling each other in their determination for prominence. “He doesn’t love you anymore,” being ousted in favor of, “He’s moved away and you’ll never see him again.”
    Then on impulse, one rain spattered morning that quickly turned the roads to mud, I squelched my way down to the telegram office and send him a wire.
    “Please answer immediately. Situation getting desperate. Always yours, Hannah.”
    This way, I would be bound to find out one way or another what was going on in Vancouver. If the wire were undeliverable, I would be notified as to the reason.
    You can imagine my distress when I was informed that it had indeed been delivered, but that the recipient had declined to reply.
    Good god, what injury had I ever inflicted upon him that he saw fit to treat me so cruelly? I took to my bed and stared dumbly at the cracked plaster on the vaulted ceiling.
    As it was, I cursed myself for being such a fool as to wait around this place for weeks, squandering what little capital I had, waiting for someone else to get me out of the mess that my own actions had put me in.
    The time for procrastination was over, I vowed. The anger I now felt against Tom imbued me with the strength to go on.

Chapter Seven
     
    The steely anger that April felt towards Holt for betraying her still rankled deep within. Caught up in the daily business of running Village Antiques, she had had to put it on hold and get on with things. Now they avoided each other less, and spoke politely when required. Holt was still her business partner, and she had no wish to change that.
    However, April was a passionate woman and yearned for the comforts of physical love that had been denied her since the awful business of the robbery and Holt’s defection. While it was Holt’s love that she missed and most desired, her wounded pride made it impossible for her to admit this, even to herself.
    It was now April’s custom, to go to and from work by bus. Thereby avoiding Holt driving her home. It was after she had been doing this for a while that she began to feel uncomfortably aware of one of the drivers.
    He was athletically built with short dark hair and soulful blue eyes. His friendly manner together with a sort of wired agility of movement, drew her to him with intensity.
    Good heavens this is like Hannah’s story playing out one hundred years later, she thought to herself excitedly, for she too had fallen for a handsome man who worked in public transport. I mean what were the odds? This was one helluva coincidence, quite uncanny in its similarities.
    Apart from saying “Hello” and “Goodbye,” there wasn’t much opportunity on a crowded bus to cultivate any kind of meaningful rapport. However, a few blocks after April’s stop, there was a layover point where the bus remained for around ten or fifteen minutes before making its descent back down to the Quay.
    On this particular day, she felt such a compulsion to be alone with the driver that she remained on the bus. Picking out her own house by its distinctive red tiled roof as they sped past it, and visualizing Spice awaiting her arrival by the door.
    “Don’t you usually get off at Royal Avenue?” He turned off the engine and cut the lights on the empty bus.
    “I just remembered that I left something behind…in the shop, you know,” she lied.
    She had never really managed to get a good look at him before, only sidelong glances that left her tantalized and eager for more. Now as she faced him directly across the aisle of the bus, she saw that he was even better looking than she had realized.
    A heady tremor of excitement