“I tried to ride a few years ago.” She turned to face him, and there was a strange glint in her eyes. Almost as if she were angry. “I know how cowardly I must seem. But I cannot stop myself from feeling this way.”
He reached out and took her hand, warming her gloved fingers in his palm. “We have to reach Laochre before nightfall. For now, we will walk, and if there is a wagon we can borrow, you may ride in that.”
She squeezed his palm in agreement. “Thank you.”
He didn’t want her to be utterly reliant on that possibility, however. There were few structures nearby, save an abandoned abbey that they had already passed.
“King Patrick and his brothers will welcome us, for I know them well,” Killian continued. “They also might know more about what happened with your father and the uprising.”
Taryn was nodding in agreement and appeared more relaxed now. But he wanted her to understand the necessity of using a horse. “If we cannot find a wagon, we will have no choice but to ride. We must find a place to stay, and it will take hours to reach Laochre on horseback. If we walk, we will never reach their boundaries before night.”
And it wasn’t safe to remain outside in the cold. Killian sensed snow was coming, from the clouded sky above, and daylight was growing short. Best to coax Taryn by building her trust with the animal.
He guided her hand to the reins. “I’m not letting go of the horse,” he told her. “All I want is for you to hold the reins with me.”
Taryn hesitated, her lips tightening. The fear was still evident in her eyes, but she nodded. Slowly, she exhaled and grasped thereins beneath his hand. He kept his grip steady, letting her walk alongside him.
After a time, he asked, “Shall I be letting go of the horse now? Would you like to lead Francis?”
She looked up at him, and in her blue eyes, he caught a glimpse of a woman who wanted to be braver than she was. “I’ll try. But if he pulls away from me—”
“Then I’ll be taking him back from you.” He waited to release the reins until she lowered her head in agreement.
“All right.” For a short while, she led the animal, her grip so tight upon the reins, her knuckles were white.
“You don’t have to hold him so firmly,” he told her. “Trust that he won’t harm you.”
She sent him a wry look. “My backside does not believe you.”
“’Twas only because you fought. A horse like this one is used to pulling a plow or a wagon. He’s a gentle one, I promise.”
Killian ran his hands over the gelding’s neck and then spied Harold falling further behind. “Keep walking. I’m going to get the cat.” He left her briefly to pick up the gray animal, before he deposited the feline in the basket on the horse’s back. Harold curled up inside the dark space and was content.
“Why did the cat follow us instead of staying with Carice?” she asked.
“Harold believes he’s my cat. He goes where I do.” And he rather liked the animal. “He sometimes brings me mice, in case I’ve nothing for dinner.”
The appalled look upon Taryn’s face was almost laughable. “You...you don’t get that hungry, do you?”
He sent her a mischievous smile. “Not often.” He let her make of that what she would, though he’d never dined upon mice in all his life. “But it’s good that Harold wishes to take care of me.”
Her steps were slowing, and he knew she was growing tired from all the walking. A lady was not accustomed to such a long journey, and he wanted her to attempt riding once again.
“Lady Taryn, do you want to try to ride now? If I hold on to you and lead the horse?”
She was already shaking her head. “No, walking is fine. I’ll be all right.”
He ignored her and scooped her up into his arms, continuing the walk. “You’re weary. I can see it in the way your pace has slowed.”
“Killian, put me down,” she protested. “This isn’t necessary.”
“You walked from Ossoria to Carrickmeath,” he reminded her. “I was wondering where your horses were, but now I know. If you made that journey, then likely your feet are raw from all the walking.”
She said nothing, which only confirmed his suspicions. “You should not walk another great distance, my lady.”
“But you cannot carry me to Laochre. It’s too much of a burden on you.” She held on to him with her arms around his neck, and he was quite conscious of her softness pressed against him. Her black hair fell across his shoulders, and the scent of her body was like a spring meadow. He wondered what it would be like to feel her hair falling upon his bare skin. She was blushing being this close to him, but he didn’t mind her weight at all.
“I’m going to lift you onto Francis’s back, but I won’t take my hands off you,” he said. “I’ll be holding you and can take you off at any moment.”
