“They do, aye.”
“Excellent.”
“I’m told Keegan enjoyed a fine meal from your hands, Marco. I’ll be looking for some of that.”
“Anytime.”
“I’m a terrible cook myself.”
“I could teach you.”
“We’ll see about that, but for today, I’ll be doing the teaching. You see there is my Blue, and the pretty bay mare is Cindie. You’ll ride her today.”
“I will?”
“Sure and you will. We’ll have you take her around the paddock a few times to get you acquainted.”
“How come I didn’t get to walk around the paddock a few times when I learned to ride?”
Morena’s blue eyes danced. “We’ll say Keegan and myself have different styles. Come now and meet our Cindie. You’ll see by her eyes what a sweet heart she has. And she’s tireless as well. She’ll go and go if you ask it of her.”
Breen went with her, and didn’t need to look into Cindie’s dark eyes to feel the sweetness, the loyalty, and the pleasure of having a purpose.
“I’m just going to watch for a few minutes.”
And as she stood doing just that at the fence, Breen watched Marco stroke Cindie’s cheek before he climbed over and stroked her neck.
“I’ve never been up on a horse.”
“First times are fun times now, aren’t they?” Morena claimed. “If you’d like to mount, I’ll check the stirrups, see if we’ve got the length right.”
“Here goes.”
He didn’t, as Breen had, try to mount from the wrong side, or complain about the lack of a pommel. He just boosted himself up, and grinned.
“Yee-haw!”
On a laugh, Morena showed him how to hold the reins, how to use them. “She’s a biddable soul,” she told Marco, “so you can use a gentle hand with her. Firm enough, of course, but she wants to please.”
“I like it up here. Who’da thought?”
“Go ahead, walk her around. Heels down now, knees in. That’s the way. Hands down as well.”
“I’m riding a horse. I’m rootin’-tootin’！ Check me, Breen.”
“Can you turn her around now, walk the other way? Look at you. The man’s a natural.”
Clearly, Breen thought, more than she’d been.
“You can trust me with him,” Morena murmured to Breen.
“I can see that. You’ll stay close, though? If any of Odran’s people get through—”
“I’ll have a sword on before we leave the farm. Keegan and Mahon are out with the scouts right now. I’ll look after him, my word on it.”
“And yourself.” Time to trust, Breen thought. “Looking good, Marco. I’ll leave you with Morena, and meet you back here later.”
“Later. Hey, can we ride around out there?”
Breen left them to it, and with Bollocks racing back to her, started down the road to her grandmother’s.
She sent a wave to Harken, checked the sky for any sign of the scouts. She watched a falcon soar, but saw no sign of dragons. And no sign, she realized, of the children she’d seen running the roads or in and out of the woods through the summer.
In school, she thought, like children in other worlds.
Fall added a bite to the air. On the hills some of the hardwoods had donned their autumn reds and golds and oranges as they climbed up among the deep greens of the pines. She saw trolls standing outside of high caves, taking the air before they went back to mine the stones and crystals.
On the turn to her grandmother’s cottage, she saw a buck giving her a long, arrogant study before he melted into the woods.
A buck, not a Were, she thought. Keegan was right; she knew. She only had to look into the buck to know.
Marg’s cottage stood with its blue door open in welcome, and smoke curling from its chimneys.
She found her grandmother and Finola in the kitchen, adding herbs to jars.
“And welcome home.” Finola, her chestnut hair bundled back for the work, stepped over to embrace her. “It’s more than pleased I am to see you. And I should tell you, Seamus will be on his way soon to see to your gardens.”
“I’m sorry I’ll miss him.” She leaned over to kiss Marg’s cheek. “Do you want some help with this?”
“All but done. Would you be wanting some tea, or a bite to eat?”
“I’m fine, thanks. Marco made us a huge late breakfast.”
“Sure I’ve heard the handsome boy’s a brilliant cook.”