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Fingal raked his hand through his hair, expelling air forcefully. “A man in Aberdeen. But I’m sure he wasn’t the only owner.”
“What about the paperwork?” she inquired.
“Only from this man. We have no way of tracking anyone else down, as it is.”
Catriona nodded in understanding. “He is hurt, weary, and suspicious,” she clarified. “Discipline will surely make it worse.”
Fingal jerked a nod. “You’re right, of course.” Hands going to tapered waist, he looked at her fiercely. “But if he tries to hurt you again, we call off the whole thing.”
“What will happen to him in that case?” Tears threatened to fall at the thought of this beautiful animal suffering what he had.
“I’ll give him sanctuary,” he answered. “We have a place in the estate for the old horses and cattle to enjoy their last years in peace.” After a pause, he continued. “Cows that had provided us with calves and milk, bulls that helped with calving and work, goats, sheep, and any other livestock that gave their lives to make the McKendricks wealthy obtain a humane treatment towards the end,” he explained.
Admiration swelled in her. “That’s reassuring.” Catriona gifted him with an approving look. “But I’m convinced our friend here deserves more time dedicated to his training. He might come around.”
“We do it your way, stubborn lass,” he compromised.
Without wasting time, she picked the blanket up under Fingal’s undivided watch and went to the horse. Talking to him, petting him, and soothing him, she put the blanket on his back. Fiadhaich displayed just a little restlessness but did not shake the blanket off him. Happy to the bubbling point, she produced a carrot from her riding habit pocket, which he promptly ate; she hugged his thick neck murmuring words of praise. This poor stallion needed love, a lot of love.
Meanwhile, Fingal had not torn his gaze from her for a single second. “Let’s see if he can trot with it,” he suggested hoarsely.
The blue-blooded beauty did not disappoint. Even if the blanket fell several times for lack of something to hold it, they put it back on and continued the training, at the end of which, he got more carrots and hugs.
Mid-afternoon, Fingal rode out to check on the livestock scattered through their lands to graze on the fresh summer grass, then returned to check on his thoroughbred in the stable. He did not see the lass walking around as she was wont to do; the woman enjoyed the outdoors, unlike some city-life lazy sods he had met.
“Did anybody see Miss Paddington?” he asked.
“Is out riding, my laird,” answered a stable hand who had come to take his horse.
Fingal’s rugged features made a scowl. “And you let her go alone?” She was not familiar with the terrain. Naturally, summer offered a pleasant ride, but one had to know where to go.
“Said there be no need,” came the answer.
“The woman is prouder than a queen! Of course she’d say that!” Quickly, he mounted again. “Which way did she go?”
“Seems she went ter the north track, my laird.”
“Never let her do this again, understand me?” he shouted before kneeing his mount into a gallop to zing like lightning through the fields.
Worry and anger duelled in him. The Sassenach was impossible. Too defiant, too independent, too outspoken. Too affectionate with his horse, too resilient—the woman drove him to the confines of hell!
He rode at breakneck speed, fearing what he might find, or how he might find her. More than half an hour later, he discerned her silhouette up a hill, standing beside her mare. Relief inundated him, closely followed by irritation at her insubordinate streak.
In a trot, he guided his horse through the track to climb up the hill. Her back to him, Debranua’s reins tied to a branch, she admired the view. Nearer, he saw a blanket spread under a tree and a small basket on it that must have been her luncheon.
Safe and sound, the stubborn lass.
The noise of his riding had alerted her, and she twisted to him, dark eyes startled.
Before his horse halted, he jumped to the ground with a thud. “Don’t you know you cannot ride alone on unknown terrain?” He tethered his horse.
Catriona had thought she would enjoy an afternoon of peace and quiet away from the unnerving man. But no. Here he stood in all his glory to unsettle the titbit of serenity she had mustered.
“I know it here!” she quipped, serenity vanishing in the air. “I’ve walked around the land.”
“Not miles and miles around, no.” He strode purposefully towards her.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake!” she vented. His reaction was quite understandable as he had no idea this was her country, too. Did he have to be so…so…tempestuous? So deliciously tempestuous? “I’m alive and well, aren’t I?”
