A Man Most Worthy. Ruth Axtell Morren
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time resting her folded hands and chin on her knees. “How do you like working for my father?”
He stood beside her, observing the shadowy light on the crown of her hair. She’d tossed her hat on the ground beside her. Her hair was twisted in a loose knot at the nape of her neck, making her look older than—
“How old are you?” he asked sharply.
She jutted her fine chin out a notch. “I shall be seventeen next month.”
“Sixteen then.” His heart plummeted at the discovery of how young she truly was.
“Almost seventeen.”
He couldn’t help smiling at her insistence.
“How old are you?”
Her direct question startled him. “Twenty-three.” His lips twitched. “Last March. Eons older than you.”
She closed one eye and tilted her head upwards. “Six years, that’s not so much. But you do seem old.”
He drew his brows together at her appraisal. “How so?”
“You’re so very serious.” She nodded toward the other end of the pond. “Take Victor. He’s not so much younger than you. He’s nineteen, but he seems like a boy compared to you.”
“I’ve had to grow up a lot faster than Victor.”
“Were you always so serious?”
He mulled over the question. “I’ve never thought about whether or not I was serious.”
“You can’t always have been serious.” There was a glint in her dark blue eyes.
“Perhaps I was born serious.”
She laughed. “You do have a sense of humor.”
“Alice!” Victor’s annoyed shout came through the trees.
With a loud sigh, she stood and shook out her pleated riding skirt. “I suppose we should walk the horses.”
“Yes.” He picked up her hat and handed it to her.
“Thank you.” Her quick smile was grateful and friendly.
She probably had no idea what it did to him, making all his years of rigid self-control slip away.
She was still a child, he reminded himself as he held the feathery willow strands aside for her to walk through.
Victor stalked toward them, his hands in his pockets, his features sulky. “Are you ready yet? There’s nothing here.”
Lucy came up behind him. “Where shall we go?”
“Let’s ride up to Oliver’s Mount so we can get a good vista of the river.” Without waiting for an assent, Miss Shepard headed for the horses, which stood quietly grazing on a sunny patch of grass.
Victor hung back and gave Nick a look. “I say, old fellow, you were a sport to take that sway-backed old nag.” His lips turned upward at one corner. “You looked quite a sight on her. Your legs were practically dragging on the ground.” His voice lowered. “You know, Alice likes to put first-timers on old Maud. Sort of her secret joke, you know. But I think you’ve passed the test.” He winked. “Why don’t you turn the tables on her and try my mount? Show her what stuff you’re made of. She’s quite a horsewoman, as you’ve seen. She’d admire you to no end if she saw you on a real horse.” With a last wink, he walked away from Nick and joined Lucy, leaning down to help her mount.
Nick considered the youth’s offer. He was tempted to accept. How much different could the other horse be? He’d seemed to behave well during their ride over.
Shaking his head, he scolded himself for being a silly fool. He was too old to fall for some masculine gauntlet thrown down before him to impress a young girl.
With a sigh, Nick gathered up Maud’s reins. Just as he was about to put his foot into the stirrup, Victor led his horse up. “Well, what’d you say, old boy, have a go?” His gray eyes held an unmistakable challenge.
Ignoring the voice of reason, Nick exchanged reins with him, telling himself if he maintained a sedate pace, everything would be all right. Victor had been right about one thing, he had made a ridiculous picture on that mare, as he now observed Victor sitting atop her.
“What are you doing?” Alice drew alongside of him on her horse.
Victor smiled disarmingly. “Oh, nothing to turn a hair about. I just offered the fellow a decent mount.”
Nick wondered if the boy even knew his name.
He managed to get himself astride by himself, although this horse was considerably higher. He drew a deep breath as the horse snorted and shook his head.
Miss Shepard’s eyebrows were drawn together in a frown. “Are you sure you’re ready to ride Duke?”
He managed to pat the horse’s neck to show his ease, but that only caused the horse to paw the ground as if sensing Nick’s own nervousness.
Before Miss Shepard had a chance to voice any more objections, Victor started to move away from the pond. Duke immediately began following the other horse, and Nick had no choice but to concentrate on maintaining his balance. Victor got Maud to go at a much faster clip.
“Victor, slow down.” Miss Shepard’s admonition was in vain. Duke kept a good clip, determined to follow the lead horse. Nick tried to slow the horse, but that only seemed to make the horse more determined.
They reached a wide open field. Victor slowed and waited for Nick’s mount to catch up to him. “How does a real horse feel beneath you?” His smile held something nasty in it.
“Fine.” Nick sat erect, trying to remember all Miss Shepard’s directives. The horse shifted restively beneath him.
“Well, let’s try for a little canter, shall we?” Without waiting for Nick’s response, he gave a smart swat with his riding crop to Duke’s rump.
The horse responded to the whip with lightning speed. If he hadn’t already been gripping hard, Nick would have flown off. Instead, everything became a blur as he flattened himself against the horse and squeezed his thighs against its sides.
He heard Miss Shepard’s alarmed shout. “Victor, what are you doing? Mr. Tennent, just keep your balance—” The rest of her words were lost in the wind.
How in all that was holy was he supposed to stop a galloping horse?
His lips stiff with fear, his throat paralyzed, Nick hung on. The ground flew by in a dizzying mass of green, every sound drowned out by the thundering hooves against the earth. If the horse tripped on a tussock, Nick would be done for.
Why had he accepted the stupid challenge? To prove himself to some naïve young girl?
He had no more time for rational thought. All he could do was pray that he’d keep his seat. He grabbed a hunk of mane with each hand, his knees the only thing keeping him atop the beast’s great heaving body.
A hedgerow faced them. Would the horse clear it? As he braced for the jump, the horse suddenly veered to the side.
“Drop your stirrups!” He heard Miss Shepard’s scream and just in the nick of time, he let his boots slip from the irons. A split second later, he felt his hands wrenched from the mane, his body thrust from the saddle and he was sailing through the air, headlong across the hedge.
Chapter Three
Alice reined in her horse and stared in horror as Mr. Tennent went flying over the hedgerow and landed with a thud against the earth.
The next second she was off her horse, running to him. “Lucy, my horse,” she shouted over her shoulder, “Victor, go after Duke!”
She tore through the holly bushes, unmindful of their sharp leaves and knelt by Mr. Tennent.