Chapter 10
Oh, gosh. There was no ambiguity in Daniel’s warm brown eyes or in his outstretched hand — none. He wanted her to join him in the sleigh. The spark of attraction she’d glimpsed the day before was back.
Unsettled by a swirl of emotions that she would most definitely need to unpack later, she took a deep breath and made her decision.
“Sure,” she said, pleased that her voice sounded calm and matter-of-fact. “A sleigh ride with Bessie through the orchard sounds like fun.”
She took hold of Daniel’s hand and climbed in. The hand was strong and sure, with the same roughness she’d noted before. Before she knew it, she was up in the sleigh.
“Glad you decided to join,” he said, sliding over to give her room.
“I am, too.” The cushioned bench was comfortable, with plenty of leg room. A gust of wind brushed past her and she reached into her coat pocket for her gloves.
Jeremiah glanced back at them as he finished adjusting a strap. “All good up here,” he said, “but you need blankets.” He hurried to a basket near the barn door and returned with a pair of tartan wool red blankets. “One for each of you. Don’t want you shivering.”
“Thank you, Jeremiah,” Penny said. She passed Daniel his blanket and draped hers over her legs, welcoming the instant warmth.
“Bessie knows the course, so just sit back and enjoy the ride.”
“Anything we need to do?” Daniel asked.
Jeremiah handed him the reins. “If you need to stop for any reason, gently pull. But you shouldn’t need to do that. Bessie knows the course, including the turn. She’ll take good care of you.” He patted the horse’s dappled hindquarters. “Ready, girl?”
Bessie snorted in the affirmative.
Jeremiah stepped back. “Enjoy the ride.”
And with a smooth pull, they were off! Penny felt a surge of excitement as the sleigh whooshed forward, gliding easily over the snow. With a shake of her white tail, Bessie trotted eagerly down a path between two rows of apple trees, her hooves crunching steadily.
Daniel let out a laugh, clearly enjoying himself. “This is awesome.”
Penny smiled, pleased to hear him laugh.
He was right — the ride was beautiful. Though the night sky was dark, there was enough light from the barn to illuminate the fresh snow dusting the apple trees’ bare branches.
The air smelled fresh and clean. Bessie’s steady clomp-clomp-clomps vibrated through the sleigh, the bells on the back of the sleigh jingling ever-so-softly.
Daniel gestured to the horse. “Did I hear right that you only met Bessie today?”
“You heard right,” she replied.
“I’m surprised by that.”
“You mean, given that Heartsprings Valley is such a small place?”
“And also because you work with Nancy, and Jeremiah is Nancy’s husband.”
He’d been paying attention to their conversation — closely. Penny considered how to explain. “How do I put this.… In New York, I expect you can go months without running into someone you know by chance.”
“Right.”
“Life in Heartsprings Valley isn’t like that — you run into folks by chance all the time. But even though we all live in the same small town, each of us has different patterns and routines.”
“What’s your routine?”
“Pretty much the bookstore. If I’m not at home or running errands, odds are good that I’m there. I see Nancy at the store nearly every day, and Jeremiah when he drops by to pick her up.”
“But driving to Jeremiah’s farm to hang out with Bessie isn’t part of your usual pattern.”
“Right. Though now that I’ve met Bessie, I might have to make some adjustments to that.”
“Okay, got it.” He turned toward her with a smile. “Another thing I got? A horse quote. Ready?”
She smiled back. “Lay it on me.”
“‘A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!’”
She laughed. “Shakespeare for the win.”
“Shakespeare always wins, doesn’t he?”
“Most definitely.” Her mind started revving up. “Okay, my turn. Mom would be able to rattle off, I don’t know, five or six horse quotes without breaking a sweat, but I’ve got two.”
“Trot ’em out for me.”
“Ha ha. This first one I know because when I was a kid, I so badly wanted it to be true: ‘I wish I was a horse, then I could run for miles in this splendid air, and not lose my breath.’”
“Who said that?”
“Louisa May Alcott.”
“Little Women?”
“Little Women. My second horse quote is from a poet named Robert Duncan who I read in college. Again, the words stuck with me because I’ve always loved horses.
” She cleared her throat. “Duncan described horses as, and here I quote, ‘nobility without conceit, friendship without envy, beauty without vanity.’”
Daniel’s eyes took on a shine and he blinked rapidly. “That’s lovely. Robert Duncan, you said?”
“That’s right.”
“I don’t know him. I probably shouldn’t admit this, but I don’t read a lot of poetry.”
“I don’t read as much as I used to. I miss it. It’s a different kind of reading experience, at least for me.”
“Different how?”
His interest seemed genuine. She thought for a second, considering.
“I try to avoid generalizing, especially with subjects as varied and broad as poetry and narrative prose. But there are differences. Just as an example, consider how the two forms handle complexity. Poetry is often a way to simplify, to clarify, a complex topic — to crystallize a moment in time. Narrative fiction and non-fiction, in contrast, are often explorations of complexity — deep dives, journeys.”
“I like how you put that,” he said, nodding. “So these days, your poetry reading has given way to…?”
“Fiction and nonfiction, mostly. I try to keep up with what’s new and what’s selling.”
“Reading has become part of the job.”
“I see it as one of the perks of the job.”
He smiled again. “A job I’m sensing you love.”
Emotion stirred within her. “I do love it,” she said quietly, holding his gaze. “I love it a lot.”
“I love when people love what they do. Not everyone is so fortunate.”
Maybe it was because they were together in the sleigh, maybe it was because of the low glow cast by the barn’s lights, but she found herself getting drawn in by his dark brown eyes.
She’d thought of them as intense, but that really didn’t capture what was going on in them.
They were intense, yes, but they were intensely radiating sincerity.
He was enjoying being here with her in this horse-drawn sleigh, trotting between rows of apple trees, talking about poetry and fiction.
With a jolt, she realized he was waiting for her to say something. Fortunately, Bessie chose that moment to snort and remind her where she was.
“Now this gal,” Penny said, gesturing to their equine companion, grateful to have a safe topic, “is clearly someone who loves what she does. How much do you know about horses?”
“Not much,” he said. “My ex-wife knows a lot — her family has a horse farm — but we didn’t spend much time there.”
Penny kept her expression neutral. Without prompting, Daniel had just mentioned his former wife.
The way he’d done it seemed straightforward, free of anxiety, free of rancor, free of longing or regret — suggesting he was comfortable thinking about her as his ex.
But was that right? Was she reading too much into what he’d said and how he’d said it?
She felt an impulse to probe — he’d given her an opening, after all — but instead said, “You’re a New York City kid, right? ”
He nodded. “Born and raised. The only horses I saw growing up were the ones in Central Park pulling tourist carriages.”
“New York has police horses, too.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s right — I forgot about them. Have you spent time in New York?”
“Not a lot. I’ve visited a number of times.”
Up ahead, the path was approaching the turnaround — the ride was flying by.
Daniel followed her gaze. “Okay,” he said as they reached the turn, “let’s see how Bessie does this.”
Penny held her breath as the horse pushed her shoulder against the sleigh, crossed her front legs, and pressed down, sending the sleigh spinning behind her over the hard-packed snow.
“Wow,” Daniel murmured, impressed.
“Bessie for the win!” Penny said with a laugh.
With a confident snort, Bessie finished the turn and aimed them back toward the barn.
And that’s when Penny became aware that, as the sleigh had spun around the turn, she’d slid across the bench toward Daniel. Her shoulder was now pressed against his upper arm.
For several long seconds, she remained still, exquisitely aware of the steady rhythm of Bessie’s measured trots and Daniel’s strong, solid presence.
He didn’t move, perhaps just as aware of their situation as she was.
If anything, he seemed to be subtly leaning into her, as if welcoming her closeness.
Ahead of them, silhouetted by the barn lights, she could make out Eva and Jeremiah awaiting their return.
Daniel said, “I had an answer ready for Eva, by the way.”
Penny’s brow furrowed, unsure what he was referring to. “An answer?”
“To the question she asked.”
Penny went still. Was he saying he had an answer to whether he found her pretty? She felt her face go pink. “Is that so?”
He turned to face her directly. “The answer I would have given her is that I think you’re smart, accomplished, thoughtful, and kind.”
She stared at him, speechless, surprised again by his directness. “Um….”
His dark brown eyes held hers. “I’ve been told by the people in my life that I need to be more open about what’s going on in this head of mine. Apparently, like certain books, I can be hard to read.”
She held her breath, waiting for him to continue.
“That’s why I’m sharing my answer with you. To avoid any confusion.”
She swallowed back a rush of emotion. “Okay….”
“I also want to be clear that, even if there’s more I might want to share” — his dark eyes flashed — “I understand why you and I are here. We’re here for professional reasons. We’re here to work.”
“Right,” she said, trying to catch up.
They’d almost reached the barn. Eva had her phone up, filming their return.
With a start, Penny realized she was still sitting extremely close to him and immediately shifted to her original spot on the bench.
“So while we’re working,” Daniel said, “I promise I’ll keep my focus on the work we’re here to do. Fully and solely.”
“Of course,” Penny said. “Thank you.”
But the feelings coursing through her weren’t about gratitude, she realized as the sleigh came to a stop. Though Daniel had been admirably clear in sharing his thoughts and intentions, her own feelings were suddenly — not.