Something Borrowed

Chapter 15

"You're right," she said with a sigh. "We probably need to talk."

Melissa laughed-- a cheerful, carefree sound. "That is an option," she agreed, nodding and casting a fond, amused smile in Amelia's direction.

"You're laughing like there's another."

"There is, silly," she said with a grin, tightening the shawl around her shoulders. How she wasn't freezing to death was a mystery Amelia needed to solve if she had any hope of surviving the weather to come. "You could talk to him," she said, rolling her eyes at the word. "But remember what I said? It's a dance. Maybe instead of talking you could just... y'know, take the lead a little bit. If you try to tell him what pace you want to set, there's always the chance he'll misinterpret. Men are very dumb. So don't even take that risk. Just show him, instead."

* * *

Amelia's husband didn't come to breakfast, and noontime found her trudging down the hill to the teeming mass of corrals and stables, her gloved hand wrapped around the handle of a small picnic basket. Melissa practically skipped at her side, pointing things out as they walked.

"That's the tackroom," she said, gesturing at a small, one-story structure to their left, and then to another on their right. "The haybarn."

Amelia nodded as the information entered one of her ears and immediately departed through the other. She couldn't concentrate on her impromptu tour. She was too nervous. Take charge, Melissa had said, as if it was going to be that easy.

"How do you know where he'll be?" she asked Melissa. All around, men worked among the teeming animals with various degrees of dedication. He could be anywhere, doing anything, but Melissa just laughed lightly and rolled her eyes.

"We just got a fresh crop of unbroke saddle horses, Amelia. Trust me, there's only one place he'll be."

Amelia followed her through the maze of buildings until they came to a small corral, fenced with sturdy wooden railing. The ground had softened under the men's movement and the unhindered sun, and Amelia's boots sank slightly into the earth as she followed her friend. Men crowded around the corral. It looked more like a bar room than a work place, with money changing hands and lewd barbs tossed back and forth. Some of the men were perched on the fence, and others leaned against the rails. All were glued to whatever spectacle was contained within the fence.

"C'mon, then," Melissa said, dragging her forward. They stood on their tiptoes, trying to see past the men. Finally someone noticed them and, turning red, stepped aside, wordlessly offering them his spot at the rails. Melissa pushed forward eagerly and Amelia followed, watching over her friend's shoulder.

The corral was empty but for one horse. Amelia knew nothing about horses, but she had a sense of beauty, and the animal was gorgeous. And terrifying. Muscles bunched and snapped beneath the sleek tan hide. Although the air was still, the midnight black mane and tail twitched and drifted in the air as if moved by an unseen wind. The horse was clearly agitated, huffing and emitting ear-splitting noises of anger as it danced about the enclosed space.

Relationships are a dance, Melissa had said, and Amelia hoped to God it wasn't a dance like this one. The men laughed and traded money, but were otherwise quiet as they watched the spectacle before them. They were clearly delighted. Enthralled. Amelia was horrified.

I'll be a widow in minutes, she realized as her free hand came up to press to her lips. Because atop that furious, dancing creature sat her husband. He looked very different from the man who had proposed to her and helped her with the buttons on her wedding dress and created a bed for himself on the floor. He looked neither hesitant nor unsure. He was a man who knew exactly where he ought to be in the universe-- on top of the horse.