7

Katherine could scarcely believe her luck. She was, right this very minute, riding her wonderful horse again. But not for long. Soon she would have to stop because that girl, that Emma, would surely want to have her turn even if she looked as though she’d rather be anywhere in the world but here. Once more around and she would stop. Or twice. Yes, two more times around the muddy little paddock and then she really would have to quit. Katherine could tell by the way the horse moved beneath her that Nugget yearned to stretch her long legs into a gallop and run until her muscles grew tired and her breathing became labored.

In the end, Katherine couldn’t help herself. She urged her horse into a gentle canter and rode several more times around the paddock before pulling up beside the man and boy, laughing because she felt so good and had enjoyed the ride so much. “That was marvelous!” she told them. “Nugget is such a perfect horse!”

“She is indeed,” Bentley agreed, “and you’re a very accomplished young horsewoman. May I ask where you learned to ride?”

“Oh, at home in England before we moved to the colonies. My father insisted I take lessons.” Katherine could not bring herself to dismount, partly because this might be the last time she ever rode Nugget but mostly because she didn’t want to risk falling on her face in the mud with these three strangers looking on. “But since we started working a farm over in British Columbia, I didn’t ride –until I got Nugget, of course.”

“Why did you sell your horse?” It was the young man who spoke. Edward.

Katherine hesitated, too proud to admit how poor they had become since leaving England. “I had to sell her because we didn’t need two horses on the farm.”

Mr. Bentley scratched his beard and gazed up at Katherine, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You’re certain of that?” he demanded. “You owned this very same horse?”

“Of course I’m certain.” Katherine tried to keep the anger from her voice. “Do you think I don’t know my own horse? Wednesday afternoon I saw her tied behind a cart, so I followed until I knew where she was being taken.” Katherine glared down at the man, but Bentley didn’t appear to notice. He raised both hands to help her from the saddle.

She ignored his offer, determined to dismount on her own. Katherine had practiced her dismount from a sidesaddle many times since that embarrassing tumble in Hope. For the most part, she managed not to fall, even though the process was never easy. With her left foot secure in the stirrup, she released her leg from the curved pommel that held it in place. Then she freed her right leg, curled around the upper pommel. She twisted her body around, gripped the top pommel, slightly off-centred near the top of the saddle, and finally pulled her foot from the stirrup. Nugget stood perfectly still as Katherine eased herself down. The muddy ground was slippery beneath her feet, but the closeness of her horse steadied her.

Katherine turned to Mr. Bentley, still angry that he doubted her. But the man only smiled, not really seeing her at all. He lifted himself up on his toes and down again. “I had a feeling she would make a good horse for a young lady. That’s why I bought her for Emma here.” He turned around.

His shoulders sagged when he saw the empty fence. He looked back at Katherine. Almost hidden in his dark beard, his mouth was set in a grim line.

Katherine was not surprised by Emma’s disappearance. She wondered why this Joseph Bentley chose to buy Nugget for the girl at all. “Did Emma say she wanted Nugget?”

Mr. Bentley’s dark eyebrows raised. He shook his head. “No.”

“Then she only mentioned she would like a horse of her own?”

His eyebrows lowered, he crossed his arms. “She didn’t say that either.”

“I see.” Katherine nodded as if she understood perfectly, but in truth she had a lot more questions. She wondered whether this girl, Emma Curtis, was a friend of Mr. Bentley or perhaps his niece? The girl was tall and had a look about her that made it difficult to estimate her age, but Katherine guessed she must be several years older than herself. There was a worldliness about Emma; those big, dark eyes of hers held a knowledge and maturity that came only with time and experience.

Katherine opened her mouth, another question formed and ready to spill out: Why would you purchase a horse for a girl who, by the look of her, doesn’t even like them? But something in the way Joseph Bentley looked down at her, in the way his black eyes flashed with a promise of anger, warned her to keep quiet. If this man were anything like her father, he would not welcome being interrogated by a young girl such as herself, especially after the way she went on about riding sidesaddle. So she closed her mouth, cut off the question.

The “Wh...” had escaped though, before she could stop it. Katherine covered her mouth, pretended to cough. She looked at the young man and was surprised to see him suppress a smile. He winked at her, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.

This Edward had a way about him that made Katherine feel she could trust him on first sight. His friendly face was almost perfectly round and so open and amiable she wondered if he had ever been angry a minute in his life. And the way he moved reminded Katherine of that half-grown bear cub in her garden, loping along on legs that had grown so long its body needed time to catch up. In spite of his height and broad shoulders, she was certain he was younger than her brother. Katherine expected Edward was one of those people everyone liked, whether they were young, old, or in between.

“Uh, sir?” Edward ventured. “Could I speak to you for a moment, sir?”

When Bentley turned his way, Edward nodded toward the open stable door.

“Right, good idea,” Bentley murmured. “It’s time we all got out of this rain, in any event.” He looked at Katherine as if wondering what to do with her.

“If you don’t mind, Mr. Bentley, might I bring Nugget into the stable and give her a rub down?”

The man’s eyebrows rose and a crease appeared between them. “But are you certain you want to? Edward is here to take care of such dirty tasks.”

Katherine nodded. “Yes, sir, I really would like to.”

She followed the men into the barn and led Nugget to the stall Edward pointed out. While she set to work removing Nugget’s saddle, the men moved farther away. She could hear their murmured conversation as she rubbed Nugget’s coat with the curry comb, but was far more interested in her horse than anything they had to say. “Did you miss me, Nugget? You must be lonely with no one to ride you and take proper care of you.”

She brushed away dirt and bits of mud loosened by the comb. “I don’t know what’s wrong with that girl, Emma. She looks so cross I suspect she must be spoiled to the core. She’s likely used to being handed everything she ever wants.” Katherine paused for a moment, thinking about Emma. “But even so, underneath it all she was frightened of something.” Katherine reached up to brush the thick, soft hair of Nugget’s neck. “Do you think it could be you she’s afraid of?”

Katherine found it almost impossible to imagine that anyone would be afraid of Nugget, yet that was what she had seen written on the girl’s face. The first moment Emma glanced her way, Katherine had seen the fear, even though Emma tried to disguise it as anger. Her large, unusually dark eyes narrowed and her eyebrows pulled together above them, but her wide mouth, even though she tried to hold it in a firm line, trembled around its edges. Katherine understood exactly how it felt to be quaking with fear on the inside while acting angry and unafraid for the world to see.

“I’m so glad I found you, Nugget,” Katherine whispered, brushing Nugget’s neck. “Can you ever forgive me for selling you? I didn’t want to, you know that, don’t you?”

Someone coughed, and Katherine glanced over her shoulder to see Mr. Bentley and Edward leaning on the gate to Nugget’s stall as if unwilling to interrupt. She stopped brushing and turned to face them.

“Miss Harris, I would very much appreciate it if you would grant me a few minutes of your time.”

Mr. Bentley was so terribly formal and polite Katherine had no idea how to deal with him. He treated her like a grown-up woman and a lady at that. Not at all the way her father acted, as if she were a young, rather foolish child. Mr. Bentley’s manner made her feel awkward and uncomfortable. She felt like an impostor soon to be discovered through a careless word or a silly blunder. And that made her afraid to open her mouth.

She glanced at Edward, who nodded encouragement. “I’ll finish grooming Nugget for you,” he offered.

Katherine smiled, pleased to hear him use the name she had given her horse. She followed Mr. Bentley, who walked a short distance before stopping near the stall of a stocky old grey horse, who blinked up at Katherine with moist, tired eyes.

“Well, Miss Harris,” Bentley said, “it seems young Edward thinks you would be the perfect person to teach Miss Curtis to ride.”

Katherine studied Mr. Bentley. The man really was incredibly tall, with those long legs of his. And the way he scowled over his beard from so high above made Katherine curious to know why he cared so much about Emma Curtis. Why should he concern himself if Emma learned to ride a horse or not?

You mustn’t stick your nose into places it does not belong. Her mother’s words slid into her mind just in time. Katherine bit her lip to keep from asking a question best left alone.

“You see,” Bentley continued, “I had asked Edward to teach Miss Curtis. It seemed to be a good plan and Edward agreed to do it, but he is now convinced Emma is cross at the both of us because we made our plans without ever asking what she wanted.” He seemed confused by this thought, shaking his head as if it made no sense at all.

Katherine nodded. “Of course she would be angry then.”

Apparently this was not the correct response, because Mr. Bentley’s eyebrows pulled together. Head bent back, he rubbed a hand over his beard and scowled down at her. “I shall pay you, naturally, for your time.”

This came as such a surprise Katherine almost laughed out loud. Mr. Bentley would pay her to spend time with the horse she loved? But the money would be useful; she could use it to help pay her board. Even so, she felt uncomfortable accepting the task. “I shall agree to teach her, but only if Emma wants me to,” she said.

Bentley sighed. His dark eyes narrowed in frustration.

“May I say something?”

They both jumped. Bentley gave a curt nod in Edward’s direction.

“All right then sir, here’s what I think.” Edward spoke slowly, feeling for the correct words. “Instead of paying me to do it, you ought to pay Katherine here to exercise Nugget and groom her too. Do that, and before much time goes by Emma will happen along on her own.”

Bentley looked uncertain, but Katherine jumped at the opportunity. “I would love it!” she said. “I could ride Nugget every day after school! And if Emma asks me to teach her, I’ll help her learn to ride.”

Katherine could scarcely imagine why she deserved so much good luck in one day. Unable to keep a smile from spreading across her face, she turned from Edward’s pleased expression to Mr. Bentley’s grim one. The man looked baffled, as if the very idea that others might see the world differently from himself had never once occurred to him.

“I fail to understand why she would,” he growled. “You don’t know Emma, she is a very stubborn young lady and won’t stand for anyone telling her what to do.”

“Sorry, sir, but I disagree. I know Emma, perhaps better than anyone,” Edward pointed out. “I watched her the day she stepped off the steamer. Our Emma held her head so proud!” He smiled, remembering. “So, sir, I do understand how Emma feels. That girl needs to make up her own mind whether to come here or not. You’re correct that she will never be forced into anything, but Emma’s own curiosity will bring her here. I’m certain of it.”

Bentley glanced from Edward to Katherine, his face glum, as if he would prefer to be the one who knew Emma best.

“It’s easier for us to know how Emma feels,” Katherine explained, in an attempt to make him feel better, “not being quite so old as yourself.”

At this, Bentley’s eyebrows lowered and his mouth pulled into a rigid line. The man looked so disgruntled Katherine decided it was time to stop talking altogether. Everything she said turned out to be wrong. She turned to Edward in a silent appeal, but he only shook his head and kept his own mouth shut tight.

The silence lengthened. Soaked to the skin, Katherine shivered in a cool breeze that blew through the wide barn door. She watched Mr. Bentley, certain he would change his mind about letting her ride Nugget after the way she insulted him, even if she hadn’t meant to.

He stood very still, staring out the door, his right fist pressed against his beard, right elbow cupped in his left hand. The man most definitely did not look happy. More, he seemed stunned, as though he had just been delivered some very bad news. Did the man never look in a mirror? Did he really think himself young?

Edward’s hands hung loosely in his pockets. He appeared to have developed an uncommon interest in the rafters above their heads. Or perhaps he was searching for a quick means of escape.

At last Bentley grunted, in the same way George always did when he couldn’t think what to say. Katherine lifted her chin, bracing herself for bad news.

The man dropped his hand and turned to Katherine, his face so stern and unforgiving that she cringed. “All right then,” he snapped, “we’ll try it your way.” He strode from the barn without a backward glance.

The following day at school, Katherine could scarcely concentrate. She sat at her little wooden desk and attempted to keep her mind on her work, but the lessons here were not nearly so challenging as in England. With over fifty pupils of all ages and abilities, Mr. Brett had a difficult time teaching everyone and had no time to prepare special lessons for Katherine.

The final bell had not finished ringing when Katherine grabbed her books and ran out the door. Hunched over the little bundle, she scurried through driving rain and splashed over thick, slippery mud so deep in places she was forced to take slow steps, pulling her boots one after the other out of the muck. She reached Mrs. Morris’ cottage near the north shore of James Bay and walked around to the back door, thick mud clinging to her boots. On the covered porch she removed her boots and left them there. She stepped inside.

As usual, Mrs. Morris wasn’t at home. Katherine hurried upstairs to change her clothes. Cook was nowhere to be seen either, so as Katherine passed back through the kitchen, she sliced herself a thick piece of freshly baked bread, slathered it with butter, and dashed out the back door before Mrs. Morris could come home and insist Katherine stay inside in such weather or catch her death of cold. Not that Mrs. Morris cared about Katherine’s health. The older woman might have promised Katherine’s mother to care for her as if she were my own daughter, but the minute Mother left, Mrs. Morris scarcely paid any attention to her at all. And that suited Katherine just fine.

A dark and threatening sky hung low over bare oak trees, but the rain slowed to a drizzle as Katherine made her way across James Bay Bridge, past the government office buildings everyone called the Birdcages, past the big white house where Governor Douglas and his family lived, and on to Beckley Farm. No one was around as she hurried into the barn.

“Nugget!” she called softly, and her horse answered with a welcoming snort. Katherine was pleased to see Nugget already bridled and saddled. This gave her extra time to ride on dreary afternoons when darkness closed in earlier and earlier. She led Nugget from the barn, used a large round of cedar tree as a block to climb onto the sidesaddle, and set off toward Beacon Hill.

Again, on Tuesday, Nugget was bridled and saddled, and Katherine suspected it was Edward who did this for her, even though she had not seen him again. This afternoon she waited for some time, trotting the horse around the yard in case Emma might show up. But no one was around, no one to ask, and the trail beckoned her away.

Katherine was back and grooming the horse when Edward stopped by.

“Tomorrow is my half day off,” he mentioned casually. “And Emma’s too.”

“Yes? Have you figured a way to get her over here?”

He removed his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m working on it.”