CHAPTER NINE #3
The two ignored him, with Helena continuing to reassure the little girl and Alice sniffing loudly as if to prove how traumatic the situation had been.
“Alice,” Gabe ordered quietly, “come here. You need to get back onto the horse.”
The little girl looked up at him but didn’t leave the protection of Helena’s arms.
“I think she’s ridden enough for today,” Helena interjected. She straightened the little girl’s bonnet. “You can ride with me on the pony cart again. Won’t that be—”
“No.” He folded his arms across his chest. “She needs to go back on the horse.”
Helena’s lips parted to argue, but when she saw the look on his face and his immovable stance, whatever challenge she was going to level vanished. She swallowed. Hard.
“But she’s upset,” she countered gently. “Surely, it can’t be good to make her ride the horse again if she’s frightened of it.”
“Which is exactly why she needs to get right back on it.” On this, he wouldn’t budge.
“If she doesn’t, she’ll be afraid of horses for the rest of her life, and she will never learn to ride.
Do you want that?” He fixed her gaze with his and threw her earlier words back at her.
“Or do you want her to learn to be capable and independent?”
Helena bit her lip in consternation, but she knew better than to argue.
Instead, she gave a curt nod, released the girl from her embrace, and rose to her feet.
She took a long step back as if she were afraid she’d impulsively snatch the little girl up into her arms and dash off with her.
For a moment, Gabe wondered if she might do just that.
“Alice,” he ordered and tugged his gloves at his wrists. He nodded toward the horse; the gelding was completely unaffected now by the earlier surprise and waited calmly. “Come here so I can put you back in the saddle.”
Hesitating, the little girl finally nodded and slowly came forward, but her wide eyes fixed on the horse.
It was the same fearful look she’d given Gabe earlier.
It was a toss-up, he supposed, of whether she was more frightened of the horse or of him.
But it couldn’t be helped. She had to learn not to be wary of horses. Starting right now.
“That bird startled Max,” he explained and brushed his hand soothingly down the horse’s neck. “He jumped with fright the same way you do when you see a mouse. When you see a mouse and jump, you don’t mean to hurt anyone, do you?”
Alice shook her head.
“Neither did Max.” He patted the horse on its broad forehead. “Why don’t you give him a pat and let him know that you understand what happened and don’t blame him for it?”
Her hand trembled as she reached out to stroke his soft muzzle. The horse’s nose twitched, and his rough whiskers tickled her hand. A soft smile tugged at her lips.
“There, see? He forgives you for crying and frightening him even more.”
“I didn’t frighten him,” she protested in a soft voice. “He’s big!”
“That doesn’t mean he wasn’t upset. When you ride a horse, you have to remember not to upset them by crying or screaming. Talk to them only in quiet but firm commands.”
“Like you do with me?”
He grimaced, not needing to be reminded that he knew more about horses than children. “Yes, like that.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “But you stayed right in your seat like a good rider should.”
“I didn’t fall,” she reminded him, still stroking the horse’s muzzle.
“You didn’t fall,” he repeated as he scooped her off her feet and set her onto the gelding’s back, “because your feet in the stirrups kept you on the saddle and the reins kept you in control of the horse even though he startled. Exactly as they are meant to do.”
He carefully placed her feet back into the stirrups and her hands on the reins, just as he had done before. Her little body stiffened, but she didn’t cry out or shake with fear. Good. She had the makings of a solid rider.
“We have one more basket to deliver,” he told her. “You’ll ride Max to the last cottage. Once we’re there, then you can decide if you want to keep riding him or go back to the house on the pony cart.”
That decision was not open for negotiation, and the little girl realized it, too. She nodded but kept her hands and feet exactly where they were supposed to be.
His mouth twisted. Her bravery was showing, albeit grudgingly. So were Helena’s maternal instincts as she continued to closely watch every move the little girl made.
“Let’s go then.” Gabe led the horse forward, and Maximillian slowly clip-clopped his way past the pony cart and down the lane toward the far pasture and the last cottage on Helena’s list.
With every step the gelding took, Alice’s fears were further allayed until finally she relaxed on the saddle and reached down to pet the horse’s neck, just as she had before.
By the time they reached the cottage, she was comfortable on the horse again.
Gabe didn’t want her to ride back in the pony cart, so he didn’t offer to help her to the ground.
Instead, he insisted that Helena deliver the basket by herself, and when Mrs. Jones came to her cottage door, he waved a greeting from his place beside the horse.
“I think Max likes having you ride him,” he told Alice, keeping the girl’s attention on the horse and away from the pony cart. “You’re a natural-born horsewoman.”
The little girl’s eyes brightened at the compliment, but her bewildered expression pierced Gabe. She wasn’t used to receiving compliments from him. Hell, he thought grimly, she wasn’t used to him talking to her much at all.
“Max likes you,” he continued, checking the stirrups and bridle. “You should try talking to him.”
“Talk to a horse!” She laughed at the idea.
“I’m serious. Look at the way his ears flick back and forth while we’re talking.” He leaned in and lowered his voice, pretending the horse might overhear. “He thinks we’re talking about him and wants to eavesdrop.”
Her lips slowly stretched into a wondrous, elfin smile at that possibility.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Helena say goodbye to Mrs. Jones and start back toward them. Good. Because he’d run out of things to say to Alice. He couldn’t help but wonder…if he hadn’t had the horse to talk about, would he have been able to talk with her at all?
“He likes to hear that he’s handsome, strong, and brave,” Gabe confided. “You should tell him that.”
“So he’s a typical man, then,” Helena drawled as she stopped beside them.
Gabe gave her a knowing grin.
Ignoring their antics, Alice leaned forward and began to whisper loudly to the horse that he was handsome and brave, then she went on and shared with the gelding all her little-girl plans for them to ride together again.
His ears never stopped their rapid flicking, as if he were captivated by every word she uttered.
When she asked Max a soft question, so softly that Gabe couldn’t hear, she paused after and held her breath, waiting.
The horse gave a small snort.
She sat up straight, her eyes flaring wide. Then she began to bounce in the saddle with laughter that the horse had answered her. In her excitement, she reached down and put her hand over Gabe’s gloved one as it rested on the horse’s neck.
Gabe’s chest tightened. Tentatively, he squeezed her fingers.
He saw Helena staring at the two of them. A new expression lit her face, and Gabe recognized it…
Hope.