“One would think I’d excel at anything involving balance, but riding in a race is different from anything my father taught me.”
She did what Aaron couldn’t, dropping the reins and leading the way back to the gate. As they walked, she chattered about the differences between riding in the circus and running in a race. Interspersed were small bits of information about what her life had been like before.
He found those more fascinating than the equine discussion.
Instead of opening the next gate, she hopped up on the fence. “See? My balance is spectacular.” She put one foot in front of the other and walked along the rail. “When we first joined the show, there was a balance walker. She taught me a few tricks that made standing on Rhiannon’s back easier.”
Her ramblings had turned to telling happy stories about the circus, and while he was glad to know her time there wasn’t all bad, he didn’t like how his fascination with listening to her was distracting him from ensuring she stayed safe. If she fell now, the height would be like toppling from the back of a horse. She could hit her head, break a leg, hurt her back.
She hopped from the support down to the crossbeam, and it wobbled beneath her foot. She bent over, arms spinning through the air as she adjusted her balance. That was enough for Aaron. He grabbed her about the waist and lowered her back to the ground.
That was a mistake. His gaze held hers as the sentences tumbling from her mouth stuttered to a halt. Was she thinking about the kiss too? Had she thought about it since then, like he had?
No. He did not need the idea of them both lying awake, staring at the ceiling, pondering what might have been if things had been different. He did not need any part of him wanting to make things different.
She still had one foot hooked on the fence rail, so he held his breath as he pulled her the rest of the way down. Her breath rushed past his ear as he lowered her to find her footing.
Though he knew it was a bad idea, he allowed his eyes to remain fixed on hers, watching the emotions swirl openly across her features. The greedy side of himself enjoyed that he wasn’t the only one struggling.
Her lips parted, and she licked them.
His heart pounded and the roar in his ears signaled the threat, as if a charging horse were bearing down on him. In a way, it was. If he didn’t find her a better life, she would destroy him. Trample him and every protection he’d built.
He stepped away, fingers trailing lightly from her body. The separation made his heart seize and caused that strange sensation to pierce him once more.
He cleared his throat before he turned, grasped the horse’s reins, and flung open the gate to the corral. Without a word, he led the animal through, leaving her to shut the gate behind them. As he headed toward the stable, he assured himself that the last emotion on her face had been relief instead of disappointment.
Twenty-Six
Mr. Whitworth moved quickly toward the stable. Sophia didn’t know what to think—didn’t know what she wanted to think. Normally she talked out her feelings and uncertainties until she understood herself and the world better, but whom would she talk to about this?
It had been a long time since she’d felt the absence of her mother so keenly. It would have been nice to have a more experienced woman explain the way Mr. Whitworth seemed to shift from caring to ambivalent and back again so quickly.
Sophia sighed. Trying to decipher that man was a waste of time. It wasn’t as if he was going to become her friend or . . . or . . . well, any sort of permanent part of her life. Right now, she and Jonas needed a future. That was all.
She’d dawdled too much, because Shadow and another horse were already waiting outside the stable when she came around the front. The second horse was beautiful but not a thoroughbred. Somewhat shorter than Shadow and with a sleek red-brown coat, it was a mount any woman would be proud to ride, but given what she’d been on the past few days, it looked, well, it simply looked less.
Jonas was standing next to the horse, waiting to help her mount. “This is Midas. I’ve still got some chores to do here, but Mr. Whitworth said someone would show me where you’re staying later.”
Sophia nodded. “I’ll be fine.” Her brother looked so happy to have something to do that didn’t leave him in pain. Even if she’d been comfortable talking to him about her confused feelings, she wouldn’t do it now, not when he was smiling without a trace of tension around his eyes.
He helped her mount, and she gave him a wave before joining Mr. Whitworth. They headed down the drive at an easy walk. Carefully, so as not to cue the horse to turn, she tried to stretch her right leg. Though she was accustomed to riding for hours every day, she’d never spent a week in the aside position.
“You’ll be staying at a house south of town,” her companion said as they rode across the countryside. “It’s far enough from here that you’ll be out of sight of those who are less than happy with your presence. It’s respectable, so there won’t be any rumors.” He paused. “It might even dispel a few of the existing ones.”
What sort of house could do that? She’d already stayed with an earl. In a way. Of course, his agreeing to her being there might have helped. “They know I’m coming, don’t they?”
“You’ll be going in through the front door.”
“That’s not necessary.” It sounded rather daunting. “I can come in the side. Or even a parlor window.”
And that sentence made no sense whatsoever.
She dropped her head and waited for him to say something. A teasing comment or even a chastisement would be welcome. For a moment in the pasture, it had seemed they were going to return to his finding her equal parts amusing and irritating.
Instead he was once more a blank wall of grumpy apathy. If she started to ramble, how far would she get before he told her to just be quiet? As if deliberate aggravation was a great way to encourage friendship.
Since he seemed to like silence, she did her best to give it to him.
They rode away from the town, past farms and fields. There were a few larger houses out here, but the landscape was dotted with far more modest homes.
Maybe she was staying with a nice farmer. Tension eased from her spine, and she rocked a little easier with the horse’s gait. A farmer would be perfect. She could help with the chores, perhaps play with the children.
She was so busy with her imaginary farm family that she almost missed the turn they made onto a drive.
Farmers did not have manicured trees lining the entrance to their homes.
All the ease left Sophia’s body, and when the house came into view, she thought she might be ill.
“Don’t you know any normal people?” she grumbled.
Mr. Whitworth turned to her, surprise on his face, but before he could say anything, the front door opened and a couple emerged.
Their clothing and confidence left no question as to whether they were the inhabitants of the fine house. “You made it,” the man said with a wide smile.
“I have been here before.” Mr. Whitworth dismounted, looped his reins over his arm, and approached to help Sophia down.
She did not want a scene like earlier, where she lost every thought in her head as soon as he took her in his arms. On the other hand, she also wanted to make a good impression on her new hosts.