AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Who says this isn’t my first time?” I joke.
Silvia snorts, something I’ve come to understand she does when I manage to catch her by surprise. It’s an endearing noise she’s clearly self-conscious about, but that only makes me want to draw it out of her more.
“If this were your first time, you’d look just as uncoordinated as I do. But you clearly know your way around a barn.”
I flash her a smile, holding my gelding at the same pace as Silvia’s mare, though he’s bouncing beneath me, nearly trotting in place with excitement. “My family has had this estate since before I was born, so I rode my first horse while I was still in my mother’s belly.”
“That’s so cool,” she says.
We travel through the trees, making a loop around the property as I show her the woodsy landscape, and take her to the creek that runs into a pond. The conversation between us stays light, easy, and though Silvia’s shy, I find her questions deep and insightful.
After over an hour of exploring, and now that Korolevskiy’s calmed down, we stop at one of the gazebos near the stone wall surrounding our property. I dismount first and tie my horse to a tree.
Then I step up beside Silvia, who still sits atop her horse, looking at a loss for how to get down.
“Both reins in your left hand. Brace on the saddle and keep your weight in your left stirrup. Then swing your right leg over. Just the opposite of getting on,” I instruct.
Silvia does as I say, her balance looking shaky as she attempts her first dismount. But as she tries to lower herself toward the ground, she loses it. Her left foot and stirrup swing toward Nezhnyy’s shoulder as she starts to fall back.
A squeal bursts from her just before I catch her. Wrapping one arm around her waist, I swiftly scoop her legs up, sliding her foot from the stirrup before it can get caught. Silvia looks stunned for a moment to find herself in my arms. Her eyes turn to meet mine, her full lips parting in shock.
Her delicate features are striking, and she’s close enough that I can see the vibrant green rings alternating with honey-colored ones in her hazel eyes. Her flawless skin almost glows in this lighting, a stark contrast to her rich mahogany hair. For a moment, I’m captivated by her beauty, intensely aware of her light, feminine body warming my chest and arms.
“Valiant first try,” I say lightly to ease the tension.
“I didn’t realize my legs would be so weak,” she confesses, embarrassment staining her cheeks.
“Horses can require muscles you don’t normally put to use. Plus, we’ve been riding for over an hour. I probably pushed you too far for your first time.”
“No, I’ve loved every minute,” she protests.
Always trying to put me at ease. I smile. “If I put you down, do you think you can stand?”
Silvia gives a quick nod.
Still, I ease her onto her feet, keeping a firm grip on her waist until I’m sure she can hold her weight.
“Wow, you weren’t kidding. I feel like I’ve been standing on a ship all day and just reached dry land.”
That makes me laugh. It’s a pretty accurate comparison. “Don’t worry. We can take a break and sit in the gazebo.” But first, I slide Nezhnyy’s reins up over her head and tie her next to Korolevskiy.
Then I rejoin Silvia, wrapping an arm around her waist without asking as I guide her toward the mint-green-painted structure.
“I can’t believe your family has all this open land to just enjoy as you wish. How often do you come up here?” she asks as we settle onto a seat.
“Couple weeks here or there. We used to come more frequently when my father was still alive.” Now, I only seem to make it up when my mother’s throwing one of her extravagant society parties.
Silvia nods understandingly, and somehow, I get the feeling that she does get the underlying melancholy that resides in this place. The trees out here are almost sacred to me, a world my father and I would venture through together.
I’ve spoken more about my father in the past few days than I have in years. Usually, I skirt around the subject to avoid the inevitable pain. But for some reason, telling Silvia about him has lessened the weight of my grief. Not that I miss him any less. But sharing that loss with her seems to have relaxed an iron grip on my chest that I hadn’t known was crushing me.
“Silvia?”
“Hmm?” She turns her attention from the trees surrounding us to look at me once more. The waterfall of her dark hair cascades over her shoulder with the sudden move.
I want to run my fingers through it, feel its silken softness. But now is not the time.
“I need to apologize to you,” I state solemnly. And I do. “I’ve treated you terribly since I came to Rosehill, and my behavior is inexcusable.”
