Chapter 30
A canter is the cure for every evil.
Joseph still dined with his family every week. He did so on his twenty-eighth birthday. While May cleared away the plates, Hélène asked eagerly: “Could you come out to the stable for a minute, Joseph?”
He smiled. “Have you braided Rocinante’s mane again?” He was their father’s carriage horse, whose name was mostly in jest.
“Yes—that’s it.” Yet she’d hesitated.
“I have sick calls to make.”
“On your birthday?”
“Just like last year and the years before that.”
“Surely your parishioners can spare you a little while longer.” Hélène looped her arm inside Joseph’s, not giving him much of a choice.
Their father followed them to the back of the lot. There, a young negro sat rubbing some kind of oil into a saddle. But Joseph’s father never rode; he always drove.
Hélène interrupted his thoughts: “Do you remember Nathan, Henry’s nephew?”
Joseph did. “How old are you now?”
“Fifteen, sir.” At a nod from Joseph’s father, the young man went toward the stall that had always been used for storage.
“Papa bartered with Nathan’s master,” Hélène explained, “so he can come every day to visit his aunt, uncle, and grandmother and help tend the horses.”
As she spoke, Nathan led a new horse from the stable: a stunning dapple grey with dark points, perhaps sixteen hands. His conformation looked flawless. Even across the short distance, the animal seemed to prance, his silky grey tail carried high.
“Watch this.” Nathan stopped suddenly and backed up a few steps. He kept the lead rope slack, yet the grey not only halted on cue but also backed without being asked.
Nathan praised him. The horse lifted his head proudly and stretched his long legs behind him. He radiated ease and alertness at once. Hélène cooed at him and scratched his withers. The grey did not shy but leaned into her, closing his eyes in pleasure.
“Are you boarding him?” Joseph asked. “Was that the barter?”
His father grinned. “Yes, and no. What do you think of him?”
Joseph frowned. “He’s quite handsome. What did you mean: ‘Yes and no’?”
“The barter was my medical services for Nathan’s grooming services.”
“Then…you’re replacing Rocinante?”
At Joseph’s confusion, his sister was inexplicably giggling.
“No,” his father prevaricated. “The Solomons made us a very good offer on your grandmother’s house.
” The Solomons had been renting it for years now, since Cathy and Perry moved to Missouri and Joseph’s grandmother moved across the garden fence to his mother and father’s house.
“We accepted. So I can finally do something I’ve been meaning to ever since you were stranded in the rain with that livery nag. ”
The day Tessa lost Bean.
“What I meant was: I’m boarding him for you, son.” His father stroked the elegant, muscled neck of the grey horse. “Henry and Nathan will ensure that he’s properly shod and exercised and ready when you need him.”
Joseph could only gape. A Priest shouldn’t own an animal fit for nobility—certainly a curate shouldn’t. He was supposed to live in holy poverty. Bishop England didn’t even have his own horse. Joseph could only imagine what such an animal had cost. “I cannot accept—”
“He wasn’t quite as expensive as he looks,” his father interrupted.
Hélène shielded her mouth with her hand, as if she were protecting the horse’s pride. “His bloodlines aren’t pure.” She grinned. “But his name is Prince.”
Of course it was.
“His former owner was eager to be rid of him—through no fault of his own. Prince just didn’t want to work for someone who abused him.”
Then their father could sell the grey to someone kinder.
“The moment I saw him, I knew he was the one,” Joseph’s sister declared. “Papa wanted to buy you this ugly red roan, but I convinced him otherwise.”
“I find it difficult to deny your sister anything,” their father confided. “Especially since—” He broke off and looked away.
Before Joseph could question him, Hélène continued: “You see, Joseph, you can’t refuse: you’d be insulting not only Papa, but me as well. Furthermore, you’d deny Nathan the chance to spend time with his family.”
“Prince may look like royalty,” put in the young man, “but if you’re gentle with him, he’s willing as a dog.”
His sister strode to their father’s horse, who hung his head over his stall door. “You must consider Rocinante too. He’s been awfully lonely—haven’t you, boy?” Hélène offered the older horse a lump of sugar from her pocket.
“How can he be lonely, the way you spoil him?” Joseph pointed out.
“I won’t always be—” She stopped suddenly just as their father had.
There was some secret they were withholding; Joseph was certain now. Were Hélène and Liam planning to elope? Joseph would have to remind them that the Church did not condone such behavior.
His sister hurried on. “Prince can keep Rocinante company, when their masters aren’t out on their missions of mercy.”
“You make house calls just as much as I do, Joseph,” his father reasoned. “You need a good horse, one you can rely on.”
Nathan added: “Prince has the smoothest action you’ve ever felt—like riding on a cloud.”
Joseph moved no closer. His duties required him to leave the city perhaps once a week. Having his own mount was an extravagance. Certainly a mount like this was. He wondered if the ugly red roan was still available. “This horse isn’t at all appropriate for—”
“Don’t judge him by his appearance,” Hélène interjected. “Yes, he’s gorgeous—but more importantly, he has a good heart.” While she spoke, Prince nosed about her pockets.
“Apparently he has a sweet tooth as well,” Joseph observed.
His sister produced a second sugar lump but managed to keep it out of the horse’s reach, placing it in Joseph’s palm instead. Prince reached toward him with questing lips. Joseph extended his hand, and Prince snatched the sugar.
“No more objections, Joseph,” his father said with finality. “Prince is perfect for you. He’s young, strong, intelligent, and calm in a crisis. He’s even a gelding, so the two of you can commiserate.”
“Papa!” Hélène slapped their father’s arm in reproof, but she giggled.
Joseph only sighed.
Father Baker seemed amenable. Then, he saw Prince.
His curate needed a reliable mount; but for Joseph to ride such an animal smacked of vanity.
They would wait to hear what Bishop England had to say.
After he returned from his latest tour of the diocese and before he departed for the Provincial Council in Baltimore, His Lordship considered the grey horse.
Finally Bishop England smiled and asked if he might borrow Prince on occasion.
Joseph agreed, and the matter was settled.
Joseph himself warmed quickly to the animal.
That abusive owner had been a fool. Prince was certainly spirited, yet he remained docile and responded readily to affection.
His action was fluid and steady; he was the most comfortable horse Joseph had ever ridden, just as Nathan had promised.
Most of all, Prince offered Joseph a taste of freedom, the freedom other young men must enjoy.
To counterbalance the work that filled nearly every waking hour, now and again Prince helped him snatch moments of rest, even pleasure.
Every fortnight that summer, Joseph took Prince with him on the ferry to Sullivan’s Island.
The island did not have a church, but it had a growing Catholic congregation: Irishmen repairing the breakwaters that protected Fort Moultrie.
After Joseph said Mass in the open air or in someone’s parlor, he usually had an hour or two before the last ferry left.
He and Prince ran till they were far from the fort, the cottages, and the other bathers, so that no one would be scandalized by the sight of a Priest in his under-clothes.
Equally unencumbered, Prince rolled in the sand or snuffled amongst the beach grasses (only once attracting the ire of a crab) while Joseph swam or simply lazed.
When visits to the mission at Summerville took them inland, Joseph often allowed himself to tour the Stratfords’ gardens.
Edward’s father had noted Joseph’s admiration of their design and variety, and he’d said Joseph was welcome any time.
He always learned something when he chatted with the plantation’s gardener, a slave who was a master at his craft.
Sometimes, Tessa happened to be visiting her father-in-law’s island cottage or his plantation garden and her husband happened to be fishing or hunting. Then, Joseph lingered.