Page 27 of If The Fates Allow
“You have ridden on a horse before, haven’t you?”
Keenly aware of every muscle in his thighs cradling her from behind, Willa nodded from her spot on the saddle. She hoped she wasn’t holdingthe horse’s mane too tight. The animal didn’t seem to mind, but it couldn’t exactly tell her if her grip was causing it pain.
“Relax, Willa,” Noah said directly in her ear, and her eyes went wide. He was so close. “I want you to focus on your breathing. We’re not going far. Just to the beach.”
Focus on her breathing? Impossible. She could only focus on the brush of his lips against her ear.
“Why the beach?”
“Because you said you wanted to visit it.”
“And?” Twisting in the saddle, she looked over her shoulder at him. “There must be another reason.”
“There isn’t. Whatever Wilhelmina Fairweather wants, she will always get if I have a say in it.” Noah guided the horse down the clay lane, leaving Haven House in the dust behind them. “Hold on tight. I’m going to let her run. If you need me to stop or slow down, just tap my leg.”
“Wait, what?”
Tangling her fingers in the horse’s mane, Willa squealed as the beast shot into a run with only a click of Noah’s tongue. Whenever she went into town with her family, they took a carriage, and with her body unfamiliar with how to handle the ride, she bounced in the saddle.
The stiffness in her muscles didn’t help, and knowing she would be sore tomorrow, Willa attempted to calm the strain, allowing the beauty of the moment to sink in.
And it really was a beautiful moment.
As the forest rushed past and the steady beat of hooves thundered under her, Willa began to feel giddy and lighthearted, almost like a child. Noah hadn’t given her any time to fix her hair, and she’d been forced to leave it loose, the wind knocking it about wildly.
She was still grinning like a loon when they reached the end of the lane before the horse crossed the road that traveled between Hollingsdale and Port Michaelson. With a quick tug on the reins, Noah guided them straight onto a narrow path where the brush hugged the edges. Branches and shrubbery caught on to her skirt before breaking, and realizing shehad arched forward as if she were some jockey in a race, Willa leaned back slightly.
“Almost there.” Noah’s arm snaked around her waist, anchoring her against his chest. “We should make it in time to see the sunset.”
Beneath them, the clay gave way to a muddy brown and then to the granules of packed dirt that she hadn’t seen in ages. The path ahead curved, and as they made the bend, the beach appeared—an empty, wild expanse of color. The powder white sand, the blue and greens of the water, and a sky filled with various shades of pink and purple made for a spectacular sight.
Noah clicked his tongue again, and the horse switched from a light canter into a full gallop. Barreling to the water’s edge, it turned at the very last minute, running along the line of crashing waves. The spray of the salty air chased them, and Willa found herself laughing with excitement.
“I’ve got you.” Noah’s hold tightened. “Put your arms out and fly, Willa.”
She didn’t have to be told twice and held her arms out as they sped down the length of the beach. Free. This is what it felt like to be free. There were no worries about her breathing. No worries about her father. No John Richards. No uncertain future.
There was only Noah.
Steady and strong, and allowing her to spread her wings.
The ride continued until they reached a section of the beach met by the forest. He slowed their pace, instructing the horse to walk instead of run.
“How was that?”
“Marvelous!” Willa bent forward to hug the horse’s neck. “You are now my dearest friend, and I don’t even know your name.”
“Her name is Hope.”
Willa laughed. Irony was a staple in her life, and sometimes, it was best just to accept it. “Well, we are now friends for life, Hope.”
She patted the smooth brown of Hope’s coat and didn’t miss Noah clearing his throat. “I feel as though Hope’s handler deserves that same affirmation of friendship.”
“Does he?” Willa returned to sitting upright, refusing to acknowledge that his arm remained firmly around her waist. Or how wonderful it felt to have it there. “Perhaps.”
“He most certainly does.” With a tight pull on the reins, Noah brought Hope to a stop and swung down. “Let’s walk.”
He helped her dismount. It was not a graceful endeavor, but he was kind enough not to laugh, even when she nearly toppled directly over his head.
