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“Why are you brooding?”
"Remember I told you I knew a Jenny once?” She nodded and he carried on. “She died, you know."
Jenny turned empathetic eyes at him. “What happened?”
"Dexter, there," he pointed to his stallion that grazed near Umbra, "was her horse. He was born with a slight defect. He favored his right side, hence her naming him Dexter. She nursed him to health. Trained him to balance until she was able to ride him. Whenever it proved challenging, her father would ask her to give up.”
He allowed a slight smile. Something about his tale was reaching into her heart and reminding her of Nicholas.
“But my Jenny would say, ‘All hope isn't lost so long as he is fighting.’ And Dexter would continue to fight so long as he was not given up on. He is mine now and however long it takes, I will pull him out of the dark. A little patience is all it takes.'"
Phineas' sadness surrounded them. His Jenny meant more to him than she had realized. There was more to that story and she wished to know. "Dexter seems to have pulled through," she observed.
"He has. I had him brought all the way from her hometown in Ireland. I try not to push him too hard though as it can unnerve him sometimes, but overall, he is a tenacious one. It takes a lot to bring him down. Jenny would have been very proud."
"What happened to her?"
"She drowned. I could not save her. I loved her more than life itself but I could not save her."
"It is not your fault. Don’t blame yourself, Phineas," Jenny touched his hand. "I wish I had your kind of courage. Or Jenny's."
"You underestimate yourself." He gave her a small smile.
"I'm finding it difficult to be strong. It is taking me too long to find my way and I fear I am on the brink of giving up."
The emotions she had been keeping away came forth and only when she felt Phineas' hand gently brushing away her tears did she realize it. It was a small and simple gesture but it let her know that she had an ally and she did not feel as alone anymore.
“I have a strong shoulder, Jenny,” Phineas said. “You may cry on it.” Without hesitating, she leaned her head on his shoulder but she did not let the tears continue to flow and he took note.
"It takes courage to cry and be vulnerable, Jenny," he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "My mistake was compensating for my lack of courage by concealing the bleakness I felt within with a constant smile on my face. You taught me that washing the outside of an altogether dirty boot does not make wearing it any comfortable. One has to clean the inside first."
“How did I teach you that?” She sniffed.
“You are cleaning the inside of your shoe and not merely polishing the outside.” A growl that sounded almost inhuman startled them and Jenny lifted her head from Phineas’s shoulder in time to see a horse approach them. She tensed when she saw the rider dismount and recognized him. Nicholas.
"You bastard!" He marched toward them, every inch of him taut with rage. Instinctively, Jenny sprang to her feet and situated herself between the two men for fear of what could happen if their emotions got out of hand.
“What are you doing with my wife?”
“Helping her.” Phineas met his intimidating gaze.
"Stay away from my wife," Nicholas warned.
Jenny jumped to defend Phineas. "Don’t place any blame on him, please. He is not the one in the wrong here."
Nicholas looked at her now, staring at her with equal parts dismay, anger, and regret. "What were you thinking going riding at this time? Anything could have happened if the groom had not brought it to notice. You had the entire household worried."
"Just the household?" She asked, searching his face and remembering Jenny from Ireland's words about all hope not being lost so long as one continued to fight. She fleetingly wondered if that could apply to her husband and their wreckage of a marriage. The concern she found in his eyes encouraged her.
“No, Jenny.” His expression softened into an amalgam of dolefulness and tenderness.
Phineas slipped away to retrieve their horses and Nicholas glared at him. “I met him here and when Umbra grew restless and frightened, he helped me calm her.”
“Let’s go home,” he said, reaching for her hand but stopping himself. The aborted move did not escape her notice, nor did it pain her any less.
She swallowed and continued to explain. "There is no danger in a friend's shoulder, Nicholas. We all find ourselves in need of it once in a while. Sir Phineas did nothing wrong."
“You should have returned home when you saw him,” he said.
