"Kathy, where are you going so early?"
I grimace. I despise the nick-name my parents have given me, although I am too worried for their feelings to tell them that.
"Chores, mum!" I shout in reply, making a quick dash for the door before I can be stopped.
"So early? Are you feeling alright? Have you had breakfast?"
I sigh, halting myself in the open doorway. "Yes, yes, and yes mum. I'm fine! I need to feed Gail!"
She yells another reply, but it doesn't quite make it to my ears as I quickly scurry out to the barn. The barn: a very nice barn compared to some, it stands tall and proud, with a large sliding door and two glass-framed windows at the peak. A small pasture lies behind the barn, where five windows allow the animals to breath in the fresh morning air.
"Morning, Gail," I coo to the half-asleep mare as I make my way over to the barrels of grain. Grabbing a bucket and shoving it into the grain barrel, I fill it and take it to Gail's feeding trough. I repeat this four times before the trough is finally full, then I must fill her water trough.
"Here, you fat old mare," I critique her large body as the last of the water is dumped out into the trough, "You hurry up and eat, now. I've got somewhere I need to be, aaand..." I balance on the tips of my toes to look over into the barrels, "by the looks of it, we could use more grain."
She whinnies in response, obviously not caring at all to what my wishes for the day may be as she slowly chomps down her meal.
It was only two days ago that I had met the lovely James Nicholls, and those two days passed slowly as I stared out the window, just waiting for him to ride back over the hill. And, of course, he hadn't.
So, I would instead pursue him.
Gail whinnies and nudges my arm, and, having captured my attention, kicks at her feeding troughs.
"Very good, Gail," I congratulate with a pat when I see her containers empty.
Fetching her saddle, I tack her slowly and efficiently, and once her bridle is slipped on over her muzzle and buckled and secure, I mount. Giving her sides a soft nudge, we trot from the barn and out onto the meadows of lovely England. Once we are away from sight of the cottage, I kick Gail's sides and we gallop away, my mind escaping all thought and flying with the wind.
The sky blends with the ground in a grand blur as we ride on, towards the village. I close my eyes, a dangerous option atop a horse, but am forced to open them immediately when the sound of far off voices and the whinnies of horses catches my ears.
The village. Cobblestone streets lined with quant stone houses make up most of the small town, but the few shoppes that litter the square sets the view off perfectly. Colors of brown, grey, and green are easily highlighted, brightening the scene even on the rainy days. Blooming flowers in their ripest state add an even more colorful texture to the village with their pinks, purples, reds, and yellows, growing pridefully in the dirt-filled troughs nailed under almost every window.
I gain small waves of friendship as I bring Gail to a walk and ride through the streets of the small Cornell village. Not many villagers are out, it being a Thursday, and most folks do shopping and visiting on Saturdays and Sundays. The clump clump of Gail's hooves against the cobblestone lulls me for some odd reason, setting me in a trance-like state. It is such a strangely beautiful sound.
"Whoa, Gail!" says a friendly voice, "Katherine! Watch where ya'r goin'!"
I bolt upright in the saddle, causing Gail to tense, but when my gaze finds the little man in the doorway of the feed store, I can't help but chuckle.
"Good morning, Mr. Calloway," I dismount Gail with a warm smile as I greet.
"Mornin' Katherine!" he grins cheerily and thrusts his hands behind his back. "And 'ow can I 'elp you today?"
"Running low on grain, today, Mr. Calloway. I need ten pounds for now."
"Alright, let me go an' grab it far you."
I nod, watching silently as he scurries into the store and shuffles around for the grain. A chuckle bubbles in my throat when he begins mumbling to himself as he pours out the feed.
"Katherine!"
I spin reflectively at the sudden voice, but my adrenaline only pulsates more when I see the familiar face. But I allow a large smile to peel across my lips.
"James!"
"Hello Katherine!" he enthusiastically
smiles in return, his big, blue eyes shining with excitement. "I didn't expect to run into you, here."
"I honestly didn't expect to run into you anywhere! But I am glad. I was just picking up some grain for Gail," I smile, suddenly burdened with belittlement and innocence as his intimidating gaze threatens to pierce my skin.
"Well I'm chuffed you chose to pick up your grain this morning. Same day I do," he grins, cocking his head to the side.
"How coincidental," I chuckle quietly, ripping away from his gaze to stare at the wooden floor boards of the feed store porch.
"Here y'are, Katherine," Mr. Calloway chimes from inside, and appears in the doorway with two large sacks of grain. "Would'ya like me to set up on ole Gail, here?"
James finally looks away from me, his eyes darting to Mr. Calloway.
"Oh, here, let me help you with that," he suggests, taking a sack from the store-keeper and carrying it to Gail. Once the two have the grain tied securely to Gail's saddle sides, Mr. Calloway waves a good-bye, and James turns to me.
"Would you like me to ride home with you, Katherine?"
My cheeks flush. "If you want, but you'll have to keep up."
"It's settled then," he nods, "Just let me grab Hercs."
He scurries across the street and down to the tack shoppe, where his beautiful gelding is tied to a post. His long fingers work around the reins, and once he's untied the steed, he leads him over.
Then he holds out a hand to me.
"I wouldn't be a gentleman if I were to let you mount yourself," he states.
"In that case, thank you kindly," I retort, accepting his helpful hand up into my saddle.
I take advantage of the time he uses to mount to spring into action, nudging Gail's sides and urging her out of the village. His horse is young and spry, and I know it could only take a matter of moments before he catches up. But the wind in my face and the weightlessness make me want to forget the race, to just fly home.
He shouts in surprise behind me, but I soon hear the pounding hooves of his horse behind me. The village is soon far behind, only green hills and small dirt roads our company. Moments pass, and he doesn't catch up, still far behind from my head-start. So I pull the reins and turn Gail around.
A mischievous smile is splayed across his face as he slows "Hercs" to a trot and comes alongside me.
"Nice of you to turn up!" I chuckle.
"A little warning would've sufficed," he grins.
I click Gail on, and together we ride slowly across the green meadows. Sweat and lather cover the chests of the poor beasts, so I give Gail a hearty pat.
"What's his name?" I ask James. "Hercs" doesn't make much sense of a name, unless there happens to be a raw meaning behind it.
"Hercules," he answers, "The Greek god of strength. My intention was Hermes at first, I was enchanted by the image of a horse with wings on his ankles, but, as you saw, he's not the fastest chap around."
"I like it, it's very unique," I smile, now understanding the byname.
He stays silent, and the only sound audible becomes the beat of our horse's steady pace. We cover a large space, from the village to my home, but before we come close enough to see my cottage, he shifts in his saddle.
"You know, I live a lovely horseback ride away, if you ever want to come visit me."
My eyes glue to the horn on my saddle. Is he asking me to his house?
"I don't live so far myself, you might try visiting me sometime," I laugh light-heartedly. It's these moments that make me thankful for my silver tongue.
"I might just take you up on that."
--
[picture of Gail to the side]
Aaand here we are at chapter two, and hopefully everyone enjoyed it as much as chapter one! I'd love to hear your thoughts, but as always, no pressure if you're not up to commenting. Vote if you want, if not, it's all cool!
- 〽️iddleAsgard, at your service.