Page 36 of A Rugged Beauty
All of fifteen, working in the livery with Pa. The two of them repairing a carriage, working with the axle and wheels.
The clouds of grief over losing Charles had only started to pass.
There was something else there.
A man rushed into the livery, spewing mad.
"You rented me a bad horse."
Hollis knew the horse. It was Hollis's own beloved chestnut gelding, the one he'd raised from a colt. A fine animal, if sensitive.
The details of the conversation between the man and Hollis's pa blurred as Hollis realized what had happened—his horse had been injured.
He ran through the city streets to where the lane changed to open country—and saw his horse lying prone..
A profound silence blocked out everything else in a rush of white.
His horse, his friend, was gone.
Hollis came back into the present with tears on his face. Abigail reached up to brush them away.
How much of that had he said aloud? Enough, because she was blinking back tears of her own.
"What a terrible tragedy," she breathed.
But when he reached for her, wanting to draw her near, needing the comfort of someone he loved in his arms, she stayed him with a hand at his chest.
"Wait."
His emotions tumbled. Why was she pulling away? He couldn't understand?—
"There's something you should know."
He didn't want to know. Whatever was broken between them, there in the shadows of his memories, he'd fix it. He looked over her head, his eyes unfocused as emotion surged. And saw a man in the far distance, on horseback.
Abigail felt the sudden tension in Hollis where they were still connected by their hands.
For a moment, she thought that perhaps his own memories had returned, but then she noticed he was staring over her head.
She was turning to see what he was looking at when his arm banded around her waist.
"Let's hide in the trees," he said urgently. "It might be the man from last night."
An echo of the stark terror she'd felt when she'd realized that Hollis was grappling with the other man trembled through her. She allowed herself to be pulled in the direction of the nearest patch of woods but couldn't resist craning her neck for one look over her shoulder.
She stopped dead. "Hollis!" She clutched his shoulder. "That's August. That's his horse."
She'd recognize the buckskin mare anywhere, even if the man himself was only a dark smudge at this distance.
“You absolutely sure?" Hollis demanded. He held onto her waist, his strength keeping her from breaking out into a sprint.
August meant safety. They must be close to the company! Though it came to her in an instant that August usually ranged far and wide when he was tracking.
Hollis had told her that the rains last night would erase any kind of tracks. If they had any hope of reuniting with the company, they needed to catch August's attention.
"Here!" she shouted. Hollis's arm fell away from her waist. She waved her arms, aware of him behind her. "We're here!"
The scream left her throat feeling hoarse, and she was quickly out of breath as she jumped and waved both arms.
