all her rebuttals. He pointed to the black patch that covered his left eye and added, “I may ‘ave lost an eye in battle, but the one I still got works good enough for me to know somethin’s amiss. What was it that made ye have to leave Tintagel so quick ye barely had time to brush the sweat marks off your horses?”
“I was homesick. I wanted to be at Woodshadow with Father and Silver Maple.” Lenora smiled. “And you.”
“Humph! There’s no need to be trying to grease me. It won’t work like it does on your aunt. So ye don’t want to talk to me. A loyal servant all my life. Served with your father, saved his life countless times, taught some pesky little miss to ride.” Tom began to number off on his fingers all of his numerous sacrifices.
“Believe me, nothing out of the ordinary happened.” She fixed a bright smile on her face to reassure her father’s retired infantryman. To escape from Tom’s prodding questions, she moved to her mare’s stall. Leaning her elbows on the gate, she rested her chin on her hands.
How could she tell her father’s man about her confrontation with Roen de Galliard? Anything she told the old man would be channeled to her father’s ear. She wanted desperately to talk to someone about her fears and confused emotions concerning Galliard. Beatrice had her own concerns, Aunt Matilda was out of the question and she didn’t dare tell her father. Lenora knew she had pushed the golden giant beyond the safety point. ‘Twas only luck that had spared her from the man’s bad temper.
Closing her eyes, she sought the comfort the stable always offered. Images of thunder gray-blue eyes and wide shoulders splintered the stable’s calming aura, leaving her tense and full of nervous energy.
Tom scrutinized the young girl he had watched grow up and mature into a spirited young woman. So, something happened at the tourney you don’t want me or your father to know, he deduced to himself. He winced when his troubled mistress, lost in thought, once more paced through the dirt, destroying his morning’s work.
“There’s only one answer for this, your ladyship,” Tom announced in a loud voice. Her worried eyes broke from their trance. He shuffled toward the back of the stable. Hoof stomps and angry snorts cracked the silence.
Lenora heard several grunted curses before Tom reappeared moments later with a prancing dapple-gray stallion, tacked with her father’s saddle. Shoving the reins into her hands, he commanded, “Ride him.”
“You want me to ride Father’s stallion, Jupiter? Astride?” The horse pawed the smooth dirt floor of the stable, irritated with Tom’s restraining hands. The stallion jerked his head, almost dislodging the reins from her hands.
“Aye, lass. I know ye can handle him and he needs the workout. With the lord ailin’, Jupiter here is sorely in need of his daily gallop.”
“But Father has always been with me when I rode him. I don’t know if I should.”
Tom’s twinkling eye squinted and studied her. “You’re needin’ to ride your worries away, a ride that’ll make ye one with the wind. Ye can’t do that perched on a saddle like a pet bird. Ye gotta dig your talons into the saddle, hold on and outride the devils that are a-plaguing ye so. Jupiter is the horse that can outride any demon ye’ve got tagging after ye.”
The truth of his words hit home. She paused a moment, then lifted the back of her grass-stained work dress and tucked it into the front of her girdle. Tom tossed her a coarse woolen hood from a peg. She stuffed her thick auburn braid into the loose hat. In her makeshift braes, she mounted Jupiter. The long, well-oiled reins cut into her hands as the stallion strained to break free. A quick nod of her head to her old friend and she clicked her tongue against her teeth.
Tom dropped his hand from the bridle and watched the girl he loved like a daughter—and the horse he cursed like the devil—walk out of the stable toward the
“I was homesick. I wanted to be at Woodshadow with Father and Silver Maple.” Lenora smiled. “And you.”
“Humph! There’s no need to be trying to grease me. It won’t work like it does on your aunt. So ye don’t want to talk to me. A loyal servant all my life. Served with your father, saved his life countless times, taught some pesky little miss to ride.” Tom began to number off on his fingers all of his numerous sacrifices.
“Believe me, nothing out of the ordinary happened.” She fixed a bright smile on her face to reassure her father’s retired infantryman. To escape from Tom’s prodding questions, she moved to her mare’s stall. Leaning her elbows on the gate, she rested her chin on her hands.
How could she tell her father’s man about her confrontation with Roen de Galliard? Anything she told the old man would be channeled to her father’s ear. She wanted desperately to talk to someone about her fears and confused emotions concerning Galliard. Beatrice had her own concerns, Aunt Matilda was out of the question and she didn’t dare tell her father. Lenora knew she had pushed the golden giant beyond the safety point. ‘Twas only luck that had spared her from the man’s bad temper.
Closing her eyes, she sought the comfort the stable always offered. Images of thunder gray-blue eyes and wide shoulders splintered the stable’s calming aura, leaving her tense and full of nervous energy.
Tom scrutinized the young girl he had watched grow up and mature into a spirited young woman. So, something happened at the tourney you don’t want me or your father to know, he deduced to himself. He winced when his troubled mistress, lost in thought, once more paced through the dirt, destroying his morning’s work.
“There’s only one answer for this, your ladyship,” Tom announced in a loud voice. Her worried eyes broke from their trance. He shuffled toward the back of the stable. Hoof stomps and angry snorts cracked the silence.
Lenora heard several grunted curses before Tom reappeared moments later with a prancing dapple-gray stallion, tacked with her father’s saddle. Shoving the reins into her hands, he commanded, “Ride him.”
“You want me to ride Father’s stallion, Jupiter? Astride?” The horse pawed the smooth dirt floor of the stable, irritated with Tom’s restraining hands. The stallion jerked his head, almost dislodging the reins from her hands.
“Aye, lass. I know ye can handle him and he needs the workout. With the lord ailin’, Jupiter here is sorely in need of his daily gallop.”
“But Father has always been with me when I rode him. I don’t know if I should.”
Tom’s twinkling eye squinted and studied her. “You’re needin’ to ride your worries away, a ride that’ll make ye one with the wind. Ye can’t do that perched on a saddle like a pet bird. Ye gotta dig your talons into the saddle, hold on and outride the devils that are a-plaguing ye so. Jupiter is the horse that can outride any demon ye’ve got tagging after ye.”
The truth of his words hit home. She paused a moment, then lifted the back of her grass-stained work dress and tucked it into the front of her girdle. Tom tossed her a coarse woolen hood from a peg. She stuffed her thick auburn braid into the loose hat. In her makeshift braes, she mounted Jupiter. The long, well-oiled reins cut into her hands as the stallion strained to break free. A quick nod of her head to her old friend and she clicked her tongue against her teeth.
Tom dropped his hand from the bridle and watched the girl he loved like a daughter—and the horse he cursed like the devil—walk out of the stable toward the
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