CHAPTER NINE #2
With a mischievous urge, he leaned in, his mouth close to her ear, and lowered his voice. “Is that what made you so independent and capable?”
“No, raising my three sisters did,” she answered just as impertinently as before, but this time, her voice was surprisingly husky.
The sound of it sparked a pang of longing inside his gut, so did the impish look she slanted him from the corner of her eye.
“Would you like all of them to move in with us and teach Alice?”
He laughed and stepped back, wisely putting distance between them. “All right, then. You win. Alice rides with me.”
He held out his gloved hand toward the little girl. She hesitated to take it, and the distrust implicit in her uncertainty pierced him more than he wanted to admit. It wasn’t only wariness of the large horse that troubled her, he knew. It was also being with him.
“You’ll ride in front of me on the pommel, and you’ll be in my arms the entire time.” When that argument didn’t persuade her, he added, “I won’t let you fall.”
But that promise did little to win her over. She darted a questioning glance at Helena, who only smiled encouragingly for her to go to Gabe. With downcast eyes, unwilling to disappoint Helena, Alice gave a jerking nod and put her hand in his.
Trying not to let her trepidation bother him, he gently lifted her off her feet and placed her onto the pommel, then swung up after her. When the horse shifted beneath his weight, Alice let out a gasp and grabbed for the horse’s mane.
“You’re all right,” Gabe assured her. “He’s just settling down beneath us. Most horses do that when you mount them.”
She nodded, but her fingers didn’t ease their hold on the horse’s hair.
His arms were around her, his body solidly behind hers.
In order for her to fall, he’d have to go first, and he was far too expert a rider on a too-well trained horse for that to happen.
But explaining that to her wouldn’t have done any good.
Neither would having her be frightened at every move the horse made.
So he took her small hands to gently pry them away from the mane and place them on the reins.
“I need you to help me guide him,” he explained. “Holding onto the reins like this will put you in control over him, all right?”
“Yes,” she whispered, but her hands clamped onto the leather reins as tightly as they had to the mane.
“His name is Maximillian,” Gabe told her. “Max, this is Lady Alice. Why don’t you say hello to her?”
He tapped his heel to the animal’s left shoulder, and the horse pawed at the ground with his foot. The little girl’s eyes flared wide with surprise at the trick. But then a happy giggle left her lips, and her death-grip on the reins loosened.
“And if you want Max to know that you’re enjoying the ride,” he added, “just reach down and pat his neck, like this.”
He patted the horse’s neck to show her. When Alice did the same, the gelding let out a long snort of pleasure, and her giggle turned into a bright laugh.
Gabe tapped his heels to the horse’s sides and sent them forward in a slow walk.
Max’s antics had eased Alice’s fear, but she was still nervous.
Yet as they rode along to the next cottage, Alice began to enjoy the ride and often reached her hand down to pat Max’s neck, which made the gelding’s ears flick back and forth in response.
After the basket was given and it was time to get back on the horse, she eagerly reached her arms up for Gabe to lift her onto the saddle.
The morning had grown late, with only one basket remaining in the cart, and Gabe impulsively decided to put Alice onto the horse by herself for the short ride that remained.
He raised the stirrups until they dangled just beneath the saddle, showed her how to place her feet into the metal hoops, and positioned the reins in her little hands.
“There. You’re all set for your first real ride on a horse by yourself. ” He smiled reassuring at her. “Ready?”
She nodded stiffly. “Yes.”
“Oh, I wasn’t talking to you,” he teased. “I was talking to the horse.” He winked at her and earned himself a nervous little giggle. “Ready, Max?”
Gabe tapped the horse’s shoulder, and the animal bobbed his head, as if agreeing. Alice laughed with glee.
He remained on foot at the horse’s head, his hand firmly on the bridle, as he led them forward.
Helena flipped the ribbons, and the pony started forward, pulling the cart alongside Max until Helena drew even with Gabe’s shoulder.
Thankfully, Alice was too focused on Max to care about what the two grownups might be saying to each other.
“So,” he called out to Helena over the steady clip-clop of hooves, “you plan to go ahead with your school, then?”
“Yes.” She smiled at him from beneath her bonnet. “Mr. Parker has some wonderful ideas, and there’s an empty building on the end of High Street that I think will be perfect for it.” Her eyes gleamed impishly. “I just have to speak to His Grace the duke and gain his permission.”
“Good luck with that. I hear he’s a real mean one.” He squinted into the sun toward the last cottage. “You’ll need to be on your toes when you approach him. What are your plans?”
“We’ll start by checking the building and making certain it’s sound, that the roof doesn’t leak, the foundation solid… That sort of thing.”
“And then?”
“Then we’ll fix up the interior. New walls and beams, if necessary, a big chalkboard for the teacher, lots of bookshelves and all kinds of books to fill them.”
“That sounds expensive.”
She slid him a knowing look. “I have it on good authority that His Grace can be persuaded to increase funds, if properly motivated.”
He twisted his lips to keep back a grin. “And how, exactly, do you plan on motivating him?”
“I’ll logically explain how every penny is necessary and a good investment for the village’s future. He’s a good businessman, and he’ll be open to a well-reasoned argument.”
“And if he isn’t?”
“Then I’ll have no choice but to hold ransom his best liquor until he agrees.”
He nodded, deadpan. “Sounds like an persuasive plan to me.”
She laughed at their silliness, and he allowed a grin to pull at his lips.
Their teasing felt like old times—times he hadn’t realized he had missed so much until she was with him again.
Even as he stared down at his boots as they kicked up dust from the road, his chest felt lighter than it had in years.
But after a few paces, his smile faded. “I apologize for yesterday,” he quietly told her, not looking up from his boots. “I shouldn’t have surprised you like that. I should have involved you with the picnic from the beginning.”
“It wasn’t the picnic that upset me, or even the surprise of it. Not really.” She kept her voice low, even though Alice was too engrossed with the horse to pay attention to what they were discussing. “It was that you didn’t trust me not to behave like Clarissa.”
“And for that, I am deeply sorry.”
Her only acceptance of that apology was a small nod, which turned into a shake of her head. He should have known apologizing wouldn’t prove so easy.
“She treated you terribly, Gabe, and you certainly didn’t deserve it,” she murmured. “But not all women are like her.”
“I know.” He did know that, somewhere down deep in his gut.
But knowing and accepting were two completely different things, especially when he was surrounded by reminders of the past and the pain he’d suffered.
He looked over his shoulder at Alice—no, was still suffering, especially when he was expected to simply accept and move on, as if his life hadn’t been irreparably changed, as if everything was fine.
He wasn’t certain his life would ever be completely fine again.
Helena leveled a sideways look on him. “Did you ever ride out with Clarissa to visit the tenants like this?”
“No.”
“Good.” She faced forward again and slapped the reins gently to prod the pony into quickening its pace. “I’m not Clarissa. I hope you can remember that.”
Gabe stopped and bit down a curse. The well-trained gelding stopped immediately behind him, so close that Gabe could feel the tickle of horse breath on his back.
The pony cart rolled on. Helena didn’t glance back.
“Well, Max,” he muttered as he petted the gelding’s muzzle, “we deserved that.”
The animal snorted in agreement.
Without warning, a bird flew up from the bushes beside them and screeched as it shot up overhead. The horse startled and darted to its left.
Alice screamed as she lost her balance and pitched far to the right. Her hands grabbed frantically for the horse’s mane, her fingers tangling in the hair, and her little legs clamped down hard on the saddle.
“Whoa!” Gabe held tight to the bridle and brought the horse to a stop before it could swing its hindquarters in a circle. His other hand went immediately to Alice’s thigh to hold her firmly in place. She was still screaming and now attempting to jump from the saddle.
He opened his arms. She launched herself from the back of the horse, and Gabe easily caught her. She wrapped her little arms around his neck so tightly she nearly choked him.
When he set her onto her feet, he had to unwrap her arms to free himself. “You’re fine, Alice. Only a bit frightened but not hurt,” he told her as he straightened. “You were in no danger of falling.”
Alice choked down her frightened cries, but clearly, she didn’t believe him. She clasped her hands in her skirt and sniffed long and hard, staring at the ground and refusing to look directly at him.
Damnation.
“Alice!” Helena stopped the pony cart, tied off the reins, and jumped down. She hurried back to them and dropped to her knees. Alice rushed into her arms with fresh tears.
“She’s all right,” Gabe assured Helena. “She was startled, that’s all.”
But Helena continued to hug the girl and coo soothing words into her ear.
Gabe shook his head. Helena’s concern and affection were not what Alice needed at that moment. In fact, Helena was making the situation worse. “Alice, come here.”