“He seemed calm,” said the boy, his face blanched and his voice shaking. “Never gave us a moment’s trouble when we put the reins on him and was doing so well—”
“Fools! He ain’t ready and even if he was, that wasn’t your decision to make!” Quite rightly, Bill looked ready to pummel the pair of them for their stupidity. “Whose idea was it to leave the training lead on? Younever attempt to saddle an unbroken horse with thirty feet of rope still attached!”
“We thought the long line might make it easier if he kicked.” The youngest stared at his feet.
“Now I’ve got to try and take the blasted thing off him before he gets tangled in it and hurts himself!” Bill went for the gate to do just that, took one look at the frenzied movements of the spooked horse, and stayed put because Hercules was twisting as he bucked now, trying to bite the saddle off.
“You can’t leave him! He’s still attached to the line!” Lottie tried to shove Bill into the arena but he wouldn’t budge.
He shook his head. “That horse needs to calm down a bit first. He’s a danger to us all in that state.”
“He’s more a danger to himself! Hercules could break his legs if that line tangles around them!” And then the poor thing would have to be shot. “You have to help him, Bill!”
The groom folded his beefy arms and shook his head again. “When he’s calmed down.”
Which could very well be too late.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake!” Before anyone could stop her, Lottie clambered over the fence and went to help the animal herself.
“Easy, Hercules.” If she could catch part of the line, she could move as much of it as she could out of the young Arabian’s way. “Easy.”
“Lottie! Get the hell out of there! That’s an order!”
She ignored Bill’s holler to edge nearer. “Good boy…good boy.” She kept her movements slow and her tone soothing but made sure the horse could see her. He was panicked enough and didn’t need any more unwelcome surprises. “Let me help you.”
She was less than a foot away when Lord Wennington ran toward the gate, and in case his approach upset Hercules more, stayed him with a raised palm before he did something stupid like to try to rescue her again. In the same soft, musical tone, she sang, “I’ve almost got him.”
To his credit, Lord Wennington stopped dead, although his arrival distracted the horse long enough for her to reach for the line. No soonerhad her fingers caught it, and Hercules was off again. This time dancing in erratic circles which forced her to let go while he ran rings around her.
From the gate, which he looked ready to launch himself over, Lord Wennington copied her tone. “Miss Travers—I am begging you—leave him be. Trust me, I have known this animal since birth and he will not let you help him until he is calm.”
“He’s too much like Zeus,” added Bill, and that gave her an idea.
“But he can be gentle like his mother too, I’ve seen it. Fetch her.”
“You heard her! Fetch Juno!” To her surprise, it was Lord Wennington who was agreeing with her. “Fast!”
Lottie heard the thud of boots running across the cobbled stable yard but didn’t dare take her eyes off Hercules until she heard his mother’s hooves clopping back. Someone opened the gate, and in she came.
Miraculously, her presence was all it took for Hercules to slow. He trotted toward her, clearly still unsettled but not in the temper that he had been. Lottie bent for the line again, but rather than put any tension through it this time, fed it through her fingers as she walked toward him.
She was three feet away when he snorted and thrashed his head, ready to fight again, but his mother nudged him with her head. Almost as if she were reprimanding her offspring, and he stopped. Then he allowed Lottie to grab the bit and, a half minute later, let her stroke his neck so that Lord Wennington and Bill could also approach.
Between them, the men released him from the offending saddle so that Lottie, aided in no small part by Juno, could walk Hercules toward the gate to the pasture. A gate that was swung open by the viscount just as Lottie released the horse from his bridle.
Together, the two Arabians trotted into the field and the gate closed.
Lottie leaned on it, her gaze fixed on the horses as she sensed Lord Wennington rest beside her. “Shall we get your blistering lecture over with now, my lord, or would you prefer to tear me off a strip later?”
He huffed. “No lecture—merely a thank-you.”
“A thank-you?” She turned to find him watching the horses too. “Are you sure? This is me, after all, and I do exasperate you.”
“That you do.” The corners of his mouth lifted as he continued to stare at mother and son. “But you saved the day, so it would be remiss of me not to give credit where credit is due. Bringing Juno into the fray was a stroke of genius.”
“Gracious.” She really hadn’t expected that. “Did you just give me a compliment? Will wonders never cease?”
He laughed at her sarcasm. Not a full-bellied chuckle, more a gentle expulsion of air. “Try not to ruin this unexpected and unique moment we are sharing, Miss Travers.”
