Page 14 of Horsemen and Hot Chocolate

“Yes,” he said, his pulse racing in his ears. “I do.”

A hush fell between them, punctuated by the wind whispering through the branches. The silence grew heavier the longer she stared at him with rounded eyes. His heart drummed faster with every passing second.

Then, a soft grin graced her lips. “I would be more than delighted to visit my new friend. Perhaps our meetings may also rouse your memories?”

His jagged smile widened, stretching impossibly longer. “So, you will meet me again? Tomorrow?” he asked, unable to hide the eagerness in his voice.

“Yes,” she said. “I can meet you after dinner.”

“I shall be here,” he promised.

“And I will return,” she said. “Good evening, Horseman.”

“Good evening,” he whispered back.

The Horseman watched her retreating form long after she melted into the shadows. After several minutes, he followed to ensure she made it home safely. When the back door shut, a gentle heat pooled around his heart.

She called him her friend.

Chapter eight

As Katrina ambled downstairs, the steady rhythm of rain beat upon the awning. Silver, foggy air clouded the windowpane and muted the early morning light. She caught a glimpse of the forest beyond the orchards and paused in her descent.

The Horseman’s request to see her every night lingered in her mind. Until then, Katrina hadn’t thought of the Horseman as human, but the quiet hesitancy in his demeanor made her believe he was human beneath the ghostly visage.

A shiver of an unfamiliar thrill ran through her at the idea of the specter who wished to spend time with her. The quiet ache of his loneliness tugged at her heartstrings, and she found she couldn’t deny him. But it wasn’t out of pity alone; his cautious but candid nature endeared her to him.

Greta quietly swept the parlor, and the heavy footsteps of her father’s boots were absent this morning. Father must have gone to the shipyard early.

Katrina found her mother reading at the table, brows furrowed, and her mouth was a thin line of worry. When Katrina entered the dining room, her mother quickly folded the paper and covered it with other documents.

“Good morning, dear,” Mother said before she took notice of Katrina’s day dress. “You’re dressed for errands, I see.”

Katrina nodded, smoothing the brown wool overskirt laid over a cream petticoat. “I thought I could buy some more ingredients at the market for pie.”

Mother’s rosy mouth, which Katrina inherited, quirked into a hint of a smile. “And have you consulted Marta about making these pies?”

“I will, as soon as I have gathered the spices,” Katrina said with a wink.

“Very well, don’t be out too long. I need your assistance in inspecting which draperies need mending.”

“I’ll be back before noon,” she said.

“Good, I want you home before your father returns.”

“Father has been gone earlier these mornings, hasn’t he?” Katrina inquired.

Mother’s smile faltered. “He’s been called in earlier these days.”

“But he’s been coming home earlier than usual, too.”

“You know how shipments can be,” Mother said nonchalantly. “Now, hurry and get those ingredients before the rain starts again.”

Katrina nodded and fetched Greta to accompany her.

Outside, her boots squelched with mud as the basket in her arm swung in time with her steps. Her thoughts strayed once more to the mysterious, headless man and all the secrets he held. She wondered if she would discover any more answers today.

Despite the drizzle of rain, the market was still buzzing. Greta went to buy something in the Ye Olde Sleepy shop, and Katrina took her time inspecting various goods offered for sale until a conversation made her ears perk.