Read Online Treasure of the Celtic Triangle by Michael Phillips - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Michael Phillips
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his legs, feeling their strength. He will try to stand up any minute now.”
“I love his color. It’s such a light golden hue. Will the color stay as it is?”
“Probably. It may darken in time, but it will always be tan or, as you say, golden.”
“Then I think I have decided on a name. He shall be called Nugget.”
“A brilliant name. I like it. Well done! And thank you for your help. You did very well. Was this your first birthing?”
“Couldn’t you tell?” laughed Florilyn. “I was in a panic.”
“I suppose I could,” chuckled Steven. “You weren’t exactly calm and collected.”
“I was terrified!”
“I’m sorry to say it, but your riding clothes are a mess,” said Steven. “I don’t ever think I’ve seen you look quite so … earthy.”
Suddenly Florilyn realized what she must look like. She glanced down at her hands and dress—covered with dirt and blood. “You’re right—what a sight I must be!” she exclaimed. “I will definitely not be going for a ride in these clothes,” she added, laughing.
“You look lovely—just like a farm girl! And I am glad you were here. You probably saved little Nugget’s life.” “How could that be?”
“If you hadn’t come for me when you did, there is no telling what might have happened. In just those first few seconds before Grey Tide got to him, touching him, stroking his head, making sure his mouth was open—those seconds may have made the difference between life and death.”
Steven rose to his feet and extended his hand to Florilyn where she still knelt on the floor of the stall. “I think we can leave mother and son alone for a while now,” he said.
Florilyn reached up. She took his hand, and he pulled her to her feet. “Then I think I will go inside and change my clothes,” she said. “I’m afraid these may now be fit only for the rubbish bin.”
“Well done again, Lady Florilyn,” said Steven as Florilyn left the stall and walked toward the door of the barn.
She paused and turned back. “It sounds funny to have you call me that,” she said with an odd smile. “I mean, after sharing something like this, why should I call you just Steven and you have to call me Lady Florilyn? I would rather you simply called me by name.”
“But you are a lady,” said Steven.
“That’s not how I think of myself. If you can still think of yourself as a shepherd, why can’t I just think of myself as an ordinary girl?” “You’re hardly a
girl
.”
“Don’t confuse me with the facts,” laughed Florilyn. “If you have the right to think of yourself as you want to, why don’t I?”
“Your logic has the parallel between you and me backward.”
“Girls don’t have to be logical, don’t you know.”
Steven laughed at the logic even of her illogical argument.
“Besides,” Florilyn added with a smile, “look at me. As you pointed out, do I
look
like a lady?”
Again Steven chuckled. “You have a point. But you always will be a lady to me. However, I will address you any way you like.”
“Then please call me Florilyn. If something like this doesn’t make us equals, I don’t know what does.”
“All right …
Florilyn,”
nodded Steven. “As you wish. I consider myself honored to be allowed the privilege.”
Florilyn smiled then continued out of the barn and to the house.
By the time she returned twenty minutes later, along with her mother to see the new colt, Nugget had begun struggling to stand on his four slender, frail legs. She and Katherine and Steven watched, laughing a good deal at the humorous attempt.
“He’s such a little dear!” said Florilyn. “There is nothing so cute as a baby animal. Just look at him, Steven!”
An hour later, mother and son were outside on the enclosed grass between the stables. By then Nugget had found his feet and had begun to scamper about, alternating between suckling from beneath Grey Tide and exploring his new environment. Seemingly uninterested in her foal’s
“I love his color. It’s such a light golden hue. Will the color stay as it is?”
“Probably. It may darken in time, but it will always be tan or, as you say, golden.”
“Then I think I have decided on a name. He shall be called Nugget.”
“A brilliant name. I like it. Well done! And thank you for your help. You did very well. Was this your first birthing?”
“Couldn’t you tell?” laughed Florilyn. “I was in a panic.”
“I suppose I could,” chuckled Steven. “You weren’t exactly calm and collected.”
“I was terrified!”
“I’m sorry to say it, but your riding clothes are a mess,” said Steven. “I don’t ever think I’ve seen you look quite so … earthy.”
Suddenly Florilyn realized what she must look like. She glanced down at her hands and dress—covered with dirt and blood. “You’re right—what a sight I must be!” she exclaimed. “I will definitely not be going for a ride in these clothes,” she added, laughing.
“You look lovely—just like a farm girl! And I am glad you were here. You probably saved little Nugget’s life.” “How could that be?”
“If you hadn’t come for me when you did, there is no telling what might have happened. In just those first few seconds before Grey Tide got to him, touching him, stroking his head, making sure his mouth was open—those seconds may have made the difference between life and death.”
Steven rose to his feet and extended his hand to Florilyn where she still knelt on the floor of the stall. “I think we can leave mother and son alone for a while now,” he said.
Florilyn reached up. She took his hand, and he pulled her to her feet. “Then I think I will go inside and change my clothes,” she said. “I’m afraid these may now be fit only for the rubbish bin.”
“Well done again, Lady Florilyn,” said Steven as Florilyn left the stall and walked toward the door of the barn.
She paused and turned back. “It sounds funny to have you call me that,” she said with an odd smile. “I mean, after sharing something like this, why should I call you just Steven and you have to call me Lady Florilyn? I would rather you simply called me by name.”
“But you are a lady,” said Steven.
“That’s not how I think of myself. If you can still think of yourself as a shepherd, why can’t I just think of myself as an ordinary girl?” “You’re hardly a
girl
.”
“Don’t confuse me with the facts,” laughed Florilyn. “If you have the right to think of yourself as you want to, why don’t I?”
“Your logic has the parallel between you and me backward.”
“Girls don’t have to be logical, don’t you know.”
Steven laughed at the logic even of her illogical argument.
“Besides,” Florilyn added with a smile, “look at me. As you pointed out, do I
look
like a lady?”
Again Steven chuckled. “You have a point. But you always will be a lady to me. However, I will address you any way you like.”
“Then please call me Florilyn. If something like this doesn’t make us equals, I don’t know what does.”
“All right …
Florilyn,”
nodded Steven. “As you wish. I consider myself honored to be allowed the privilege.”
Florilyn smiled then continued out of the barn and to the house.
By the time she returned twenty minutes later, along with her mother to see the new colt, Nugget had begun struggling to stand on his four slender, frail legs. She and Katherine and Steven watched, laughing a good deal at the humorous attempt.
“He’s such a little dear!” said Florilyn. “There is nothing so cute as a baby animal. Just look at him, Steven!”
An hour later, mother and son were outside on the enclosed grass between the stables. By then Nugget had found his feet and had begun to scamper about, alternating between suckling from beneath Grey Tide and exploring his new environment. Seemingly uninterested in her foal’s
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