Read Online Hard Day's Knight by Katie MacAlister - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Katie MacAlister
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bottle of beer. They nodded a greeting, then went back to their quiet conversation.
“The others you’ll meet as they show up. We usually have a lot of fun at night. Kind of a potluck picnic thing, where everyone brings a few bottles and some steaks and hamburgers,” CJ said. She rustled around the barbecue grill, chatting brightly with the people who strolled by, most of whom stopped to say hello, a few who dropped into chairs and joined the conversation. Everyone was very friendly and included me in their conversations, but I couldn’t help feeling like an outsider. I didn’t know the in jokes, and I didn’t understand the terminology, who the people were they were discussing, or even what the past tournaments signified in discussion. From time to time I was aware of Walker’s silver-eyed gaze on me, his attention itching my skin like an irritating sunburn.
“Do you ride?” Butcher asked me suddenly.
I was standing on the outskirts of the circle, watching everyone laugh and talk and joke, while CJ and Vandal manned the grill, turning out copious quantities of hamburgers and hot dogs. Fenice and her two attendant Americans went out and returned with big tubs of potato salad, beans, and pasta salads, which they were now arranging on a couple of card tables that someone had produced. My stomach grumbled as I turned to face Butcher. “Do I ride? I used to. I was raised with horses—my mother was crazy about them. I haven’t ridden in a while, though. Mom had to sell her horses when she moved to Belize to take care of underprivileged animals.”
“Ah. So she’s one of those charity workers?”
I gave him a wry smile. “No, just a vet who likes to help the underdogs. Literally.”
“World needs more people like that,” he said with an answering smile, and I thought to myself how lucky CJ was to have found him. “We ought to put you up on a horse. You have the look of a jouster.”
Instantly my hackles went up. “Why, because I look sturdy? ”
Evidently Butcher missed both my glare and the way I spit out the last word. “That, and you look like you could take a hit and not lose your seat. Walker! What do you say we get Pepper up on Cassiopeia after supper? She rides, and she’s interested in jousting.”
Who, me? Ack! “No, I—”
Walker turned to give me a thin-lipped look. “She’s afraid of horses.”
It was the scorn in his voice that had me nipping my protest in the bud. “Oh! I am not!”
“You are, too. You screamed earlier.”
“Well, of course I screamed! I was strung out between two horses, one of which was clearly planning to eat me for lunch.”
“Horses don’t eat people; they’re herbivores,” he said patiently, just like I was too stupid to know that.
“Most horses are, but that white monster Lancelot is the exception to the rule,” I snapped back.
One glossy black eyebrow rose. “There are no bad horses, only bad owners.”
“Oh, that is such bull!”
“You’re not a good enough horsewoman to joust,” he added with a self-righteous cock to his eyebrows.
Now, that really got my goat. I might not be horse crazy like everyone else at the Faire, but I had been riding for as long as I could remember. “It just so happens that I’m a very good rider. My grandfather rode on the Olympic team in 1952, and he taught my mother and me how to ride. So you can just take that ‘not a good enough horsewoman’ crap and shove it up your—”
“Pepper!” CJ yelled, waving a spatula at me. “Honestly, can’t I leave you alone for two minutes without you picking a fight with Walker?”
I pointed at him. “He started it. He said I didn’t know how to ride.”
“That’s not what I said. I simply pointed out that a woman who screams around horses and falls off them when they’re standing still is not a person who should be thinking about jousting.”
I whirled around to face him, the urge to wrap Moth’s tail around his throat until his face turned red making my
“The others you’ll meet as they show up. We usually have a lot of fun at night. Kind of a potluck picnic thing, where everyone brings a few bottles and some steaks and hamburgers,” CJ said. She rustled around the barbecue grill, chatting brightly with the people who strolled by, most of whom stopped to say hello, a few who dropped into chairs and joined the conversation. Everyone was very friendly and included me in their conversations, but I couldn’t help feeling like an outsider. I didn’t know the in jokes, and I didn’t understand the terminology, who the people were they were discussing, or even what the past tournaments signified in discussion. From time to time I was aware of Walker’s silver-eyed gaze on me, his attention itching my skin like an irritating sunburn.
“Do you ride?” Butcher asked me suddenly.
I was standing on the outskirts of the circle, watching everyone laugh and talk and joke, while CJ and Vandal manned the grill, turning out copious quantities of hamburgers and hot dogs. Fenice and her two attendant Americans went out and returned with big tubs of potato salad, beans, and pasta salads, which they were now arranging on a couple of card tables that someone had produced. My stomach grumbled as I turned to face Butcher. “Do I ride? I used to. I was raised with horses—my mother was crazy about them. I haven’t ridden in a while, though. Mom had to sell her horses when she moved to Belize to take care of underprivileged animals.”
“Ah. So she’s one of those charity workers?”
I gave him a wry smile. “No, just a vet who likes to help the underdogs. Literally.”
“World needs more people like that,” he said with an answering smile, and I thought to myself how lucky CJ was to have found him. “We ought to put you up on a horse. You have the look of a jouster.”
Instantly my hackles went up. “Why, because I look sturdy? ”
Evidently Butcher missed both my glare and the way I spit out the last word. “That, and you look like you could take a hit and not lose your seat. Walker! What do you say we get Pepper up on Cassiopeia after supper? She rides, and she’s interested in jousting.”
Who, me? Ack! “No, I—”
Walker turned to give me a thin-lipped look. “She’s afraid of horses.”
It was the scorn in his voice that had me nipping my protest in the bud. “Oh! I am not!”
“You are, too. You screamed earlier.”
“Well, of course I screamed! I was strung out between two horses, one of which was clearly planning to eat me for lunch.”
“Horses don’t eat people; they’re herbivores,” he said patiently, just like I was too stupid to know that.
“Most horses are, but that white monster Lancelot is the exception to the rule,” I snapped back.
One glossy black eyebrow rose. “There are no bad horses, only bad owners.”
“Oh, that is such bull!”
“You’re not a good enough horsewoman to joust,” he added with a self-righteous cock to his eyebrows.
Now, that really got my goat. I might not be horse crazy like everyone else at the Faire, but I had been riding for as long as I could remember. “It just so happens that I’m a very good rider. My grandfather rode on the Olympic team in 1952, and he taught my mother and me how to ride. So you can just take that ‘not a good enough horsewoman’ crap and shove it up your—”
“Pepper!” CJ yelled, waving a spatula at me. “Honestly, can’t I leave you alone for two minutes without you picking a fight with Walker?”
I pointed at him. “He started it. He said I didn’t know how to ride.”
“That’s not what I said. I simply pointed out that a woman who screams around horses and falls off them when they’re standing still is not a person who should be thinking about jousting.”
I whirled around to face him, the urge to wrap Moth’s tail around his throat until his face turned red making my
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