White Gate Heart

•Chapter Eleven•

Completed with the uncomfortable breakfast, we all made our way out of the dining room. I at last felt like I could breathe, as hard as my heart thrummed inside my chest. Lydia swept past me, her dress swishing as she did. Refusing to make eye contact with me, she kept her eyes pasted to the floor. I knew right then, that she wished to tell me she told me so.

Thomas skipped towards the front door, acting as nothing happened. It amazed me at how Thomas, a child, could forget such awkward things immediately.

Lydia made her way to the drawing room, and I assumed she would work on her piano, as she always does after breakfast. My decision was made to go out and work with Jamie, since we all had time in the morning to do what we wish.

Making my way towards the heavy-set door, I grasped the cool iron handle and heaved it open. Before stepping out into the gorgeous and crisp spring air, I took in the plantation setting. It was quite a handsome sight to behold; the bright green fields and raked dirt gardens, white fences, the rolling grassy hills stood in the background, and even farther stood the rounded mountains of Massachusetts. There were few of the scenic mountains in such a place, for it seemed that it was meant to hold cities such as Boston. Flocks of vultures circled the top of the mountain, waiting impatiently to descend onto their unseen corpse. Shivering at the thought, I placed a foot on the portico and turned to shut the door, but not before a rough hand grabbed my hand.

"Where do you think you're heading off to?" Father questioned roughly, straightening his back to appear even taller than he was. I felt my insides shrink and I folded my hands behind my back to hide the quiver of them.

"I was going to work with Jamie, hopefully learn more about her," I answered firmly, trying to appear confident and secure. On the inside, I was everything but that.

"You'd think I would let you get away with that sneak of a trick you pulled this morning?" he asked, balling his fists in fury.

"N-no, I was't trying t-"

"You can use your time this morning to pull the weeds in the front garden instead of spending time with that peanut-headed animal," he interrupted angrily, turning on his heel before I could reply. Frustration boiled my insides and I pinched my palms to try and restrict the vexation I held.

"So be it," I muttered, turning my way to march towards the gardening shed. Opening the creaking and rotting door of the peeling shed, I took time to adjust my eyes to the darkness. Grabbing a satchel to dispose the weeds in and a small rake, I went to work in the garden.

It could've been worse, I could've very well been given more difficult and time consuming tasks. The house garden was not very large, as it was only used for display and decor.

Setting myself on the gravel stones beside the garden, I worked on the outer edge of the patch, working my way inward. The routine became easy and instinctive; rake, find the bottom of the weed, pull, place in satchel. I felt my imagination drift off uncontrollably, and I was soon astride Jamie, letting the wind whip my loosened hair back. Fresh scents of daisies and meadow grass intoxicated my own nose. Harmonies of the birds and the nearby river flowed as music into my ears. Grabbing onto Jamie's carefree mane, I laughed joyously and allowed the pounding rhythm of hooves and her undulating back to transform me into peace. The previous actions of the day were quickly forgotten and the only object I cared about was that moment, the moment of freedom and passion.

Jamie bobbed her head, snorting and letting her feet barely touch the ground. Her occasional whinnies of joy made me smile and laugh, forgetting I was sitting in the garden weeding.

Unfortunately, I snapped back to the reality of the work in front of me, causing me to huff unpleasantly.

Only but an hour later, I was finished and I stepped back to investigate any signs of unwelcome green in the dirt, but I please and joyed to find there were none. Returning the tools to their home and disposing of the weeds into the manure piles, I made haste towards the barn. Glancing around nervously for Father's watchful eyes, I sprinted to the barn with a grin plastered onto my face. Lifting my skirt to make the sprinting easier, I carefully watched for any stones that would cause an unfortunate fall.

Groaning at the screaming of my sore muscles and shoulders, I pushed open the barn door. Before making my way to the skittish Jamie, I allowed my shoulders to slacken. Raising my head, I saw Jamie's icy gaze locked on my body and its every movements. Her body froze, but her ears remained pricked towards me, which wasn't a bad sign. Her snorts grew louder as I calmly passed her stall, allowing her to see my every move. I almost felt her curiosity grow as she watched me into the small tack room. Grabbing a handful of grain to hide in my pockets, I glanced wearily at the whip that had been used against Jamie the previous day. Refusing to look any farther or allow the memory to creep into my head, I finished grabbing the items. I took the halter and lead rope towards her stall, but I allowed her to keep it in sight.

I figured that if I could allow her to see the leather she would have on her face instead of hiding it, she would learn to trust somewhat more. Entering her stall, I made sure to shake the pockets containing the grains. Her ears perked greatly and her head inched towards me. I smiled and talked soothingly.

"You like the sound of food, don't you?" I asked, placing an outstretched hand towards her face. I had not dared to enter the stall yet, for she pinned her ears as soon as my hand neared it. Turning my mouth in a small frown, I made my hand retreat to support my own chin. I smirked when Jamie became perky at the sound of the rustling grain in my pockets. Taking out a modest amount, I slowly reach it towards her, allowing my fingers to let it be uncovered. Hesitant as always, Jamie reached out just her head and neck to attempt at a nibble. She was unlucky because it was too far for her to eat with just her neck and head reaching outward. Jamie would have to take some steps forward, and that would require stepping towards me.

I could nearly sense her frustration. The mare stomped her foot and huffed, knowing what she had to do. My heart ached, for the poor mare must have endured great torture to have had a resulting attitude as this. My lips turned into a smile and I talked to her soothingly, hoping that she would take the grain.

"As commonplace as this is said, I won't hurt you, Jamie." She gazed at me, her eyes locking onto mine yet again. A strange feeling churned in the pit of my stomach as her deep brown orbs focused on me. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it was as if my inner organs were sparking and flying.

Her gaze broke as she returned to trying to reach for the grain. The feeling quickly vanished and my body felt normal again. However, I wanted that feeling back, for it was close to something like an adrenaline rush.

At last, Jamie huffed and took two reluctant steps. Of course, her ears glued to the back of her head and she let me know of her feelings. Rolling my eyes, I chuckled. After Jamie completed her chomping of grain, she eyed the halter suspiciously and her eyes widened. I lifted it slowly and gently above the stall door, letting her watch the worn leather swish in my hands. Her body pushed itself into the far corner of the stall and she bucked, kicking the creaking wood.

I bit my lip and let the halter hang limp in my hands, leaning over the door. I stood like that for at most ten minutes before retreating and placing it back into the tack room. I suddenly had an idea to halter train Jamie, but it would take precious amounts of time, most likely months. We didn't have that much time, Father wanted Jamie to become a work horse quickly. Walking out of the barn, I ran my hands through my pulled back hair and tried to smooth out the frizzed strands. That was practically impossible, for I had my mother's uncontrollably curled hair that had its own brain.

Sliding to the ground against the stall door, I sat there with my head in my hands, growing tired. I battled with the urge to close my eyes, but lost miserably. Before I slipped into Sleep's grasp, I heard a shuffling of hooves and felt a warm wind being blown down my neck. Smiling, I fell asleep under the protective figure of Jamie.