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The Carrington farm was nestled along the Hudson River and was breathtaking with its rolling hills and open pastures dotted with fine horses grazing, its red barns and outbuildings, and the white and gray limestone and granite mansion perched on a hill overlooking the river. The landscape was beautiful. The leaves had turned all colors of red and yellow before drifting to form bright carpets beneath the trees and the vast sloping fields were broken up by random jagged outcrops.
Setting her pitchfork against a wall, Sapphire leaned over to scratch Stowe behind the ears. “So, boy, are you hungry?”
Stowe whined and panted.
“Me, too,” she said as she grabbed her canvas bag and tugged at the brim of her hat. “And I know the perfect place to picnic. Did you see that rock off in the pasture to the south? It must be as big as a carriage and I bet it’s as warm as a winter hearth out there in the sun like that.”
Stowe danced around her as they made their way out of the barnyard through two gates and into the pasture. The rock was farther than she had guessed, and by the time she reached it, she was famished.
Lifting Stowe onto the rock, she crawled up after him. They ate the last biscuit she had bought from the old lady, three pieces of bacon she had brought with her from this morning’s meal and her last apple from the ones she had picked up along the road after leaving Boston. Stowe enjoyed his piece of biscuit and his share of the bacon, but scoffed at her offer to take a bite of her apple. He whined for more bacon.
“All gone,” she laughed, holding her hand out to let him lick it. “You see?” She took a bite of the crisp, cool apple and lay back on the warm rock. Every muscle in her body ached but she felt good—surprisingly good. She’d been so busy today that she’d barely thought about Blake, and she knew that with time, she’d forget him…no, not forget him, but at least her chest wouldn’t ache when she thought of him.
Sapphire closed her eyes and, tossing the apple core over her head, wrapped her arm around Stowe who had settled down for a nap beside her. She was just drifting off, thinking she needed to get back to the stalls, when she heard men shouting and cursing in the distance.
When she looked in the direction of the stables, she saw Red waving his arms and another man running. Ahead of them was a black horse that galloped over a paddock gate, his lead rope flying behind him.
Sapphire scrambled off the rock and set Stowe in the grass, then brought her hand to shade her eyes from the bright sun. The horse had cleared another paddock gate, rounded a clump of elm trees in a hollow to the west and slowed to a trot, headed in her direction. In the far distance, she could see Red and the other man walking back toward the barn. She could still hear their voices on the wind. She looked back at the horse coming right for her, then Stowe, and stopped where she was.
Stowe dropped his bottom to the grass at once and the two waited until the stallion slowed his pace to a walk. Spotting Sapphire and the dog, the horse snorted, halted, pawed the ground and snorted again, blowing through its nose.
“What’s the matter boy?” Sapphire asked softly. “A little spooked?” She took a step toward him, concerned about the rope still dangling from his halter. A horse could step on a lead rope and seriously injure himself. This was such a beautiful creature; she hated the thought that he might get hurt.
“What is it, boy?” she murmured. “Did those big men scare you? Well, let me tell you, they don’t mean anything by it, those men with their big voices all stomping all over the place.” She took another step.
The horse watched her cautiously. “I know one of the biggest stompers and shouters in all the land, and I’m not a bit scared of him, and you know why? He’s a good person. He’s got a good heart.” She slowly extended her hand to the horse that was still two arms’ lengths from her. From here, she couldn’t possibly reach the rope. She had to move closer.
“That’s right,” she said. “So I just don’t pay any attention to him when he gets loud.” She inched forward and the horse tossed his head, backing away from her.
She stopped again. “Whoa, there, whoa, boy.” She slowly lowered her hands to her sides and contemplated her options. She could hear the men in the distance again. They were still shouting, but their voices were getting closer.
The horse turned his head in the direction of the barn, whinnied and snorted.
“I know,” Sapphire murmured. “They are frightfully loud.”
She glanced down at the dog. “So what do you think, Mr. Stowe?” she asked. “How are we going to convince him to let us catch him?”
Then Sapphire remembered the apple core she had tossed earlier when she finished her meal. Slowly, she slid one foot behind her and then the other, backing up toward the rock. Stowe remained with the horse. When she was far enough away to think she wouldn’t spook the stallion, she rushed around the other side of the rock in the direction she had thrown the apple core. Luckily, she found it in the browning grass and was back beside the spotted hound in a minute.
“Look what I have,” she cajoled, holding her hand out to the runaway, balancing the apple core on her palm.
The horse caught the scent of the sweet apple, lifted his head and snorted.
“Nope,” she told him. “I’m not bringing it to you.” She looked down at the dog. “Just like a man,” she said. She looked up again. “If you want this apple, you’ll have to come get it.” She recalled that Armand had had a gelding that was afraid of shadows, so she would edge around him until she was standing where her shadow wouldn’t frighten the stallion.
The black horse took one step toward her, then another and tossed his head and snorted as if fighting himself. At last, he reached out and took the core gently from her hand while Sapphire very slowly raised her other hand and caught the lead rope.
The horse started to back up, but Sapphire continued to talk quietly to him and he calmed again. As he munched on the core, she walked him around the rock. She couldn’t see Red and the other man now, but she guessed they had disappeared into the grove of elms, probably thinking the horse was still there.
Done with his apple, the horse began to snatch at little sprouts of still-green grass near the rock.
Sapphire looked back to the barns and then at the horse. She was probably half a mile away and she had already lingered here too long. “What do you think?” she asked the horse. She laid her hand on the horse’s neck and he nickered, still a little spooked but much calmer than before.
“I think he likes us,” she told Stowe, who was busy scratching his pink belly. Then she turned back to the horse. “Will you let me ride you back? I promise to be nice and I won’t holler.”
Sapphire could have sworn the horse understood what she said.
Moving cautiously, she led him closer to the rock, then climbed up it. “Here goes,” she said.
