Page 66 of Christmas at Castle Dunrannoch
“I’m out here.” Rye leant against the stall’s divide.
“I’d forgotten, sorry. I expect you’re feeling some of the same things.”
“More than likely.” Rye gave her his half-smile.
She wasn’t alone in losing someone she’d cared about. That was true. But, he’d a feeling there was more than that making her miserable. Whatever relations she did have, she’d decided to be here instead. They must be pretty poor excuses for family if she was choosing his over her own.
Rummaging in her pockets, she drew out a fresh handkerchief.
“No pet mice today?” He gestured at her coat.
She looked bemused, so he nudged a bit further. “No scorpions or snakes?”
Her lips twitched at that. “There aren’t any in Scotland—not scorpions anyway.”
“That’s a relief. Though McTavish could probably handle them.”
He rested a hand on her shoulder. “How about I teach you something for a change—just for fun. We can shake out our manes and let the wind blow through.”
“You’re comparing me to a horse?” Ursula gave her nose a final blow.
“It’s the highest compliment.” Rye took her hand in his own, leading her out to where Buckie had the stallion saddled. “Know how to canter while standing in the stirrups?”
“You want me to do that? On this enormous beast?” Ursula shook her head, laughing.
“Get good enough an’ I’ll show you how to stand on the saddle itself. I did it all the time back home.” He gave her a wink.
“You may be waiting some time—but don’t let me stop you from showing off your talents. I can tell you like an audience.”
As if on cue, another voice called across the courtyard. “Off on a jaunt, Balmore? Care if I come along?”
Rye sighed. It was no surprise that Cameron would hunt them out. He’d been showing far too much interest in Miss Abernathy for Rye’s liking. Not that she belonged to him; he could hardly claim that, but he didn’t know his cousin well enough to guess his intentions.
Despite her bravado, Rye could see Ursula was vulnerable. He wouldn’t stand by and watch his cousin lead her down some merry path. He’d come close enough to doing that himself.
“The sun’s warmed things up a wee bit, I see.” Cameron rubbed his hands together. “It’ll be melting the lighter patches o’ snow and giving the coos a proper feed again—but I wanted to check on those grazing east of the bothy. There’s a lot of clover in the pasture there and it can give them the bloat if they over-eat.”
Rye passed his hand through his hair. “Sounds like we’d best take a scout over there.” He cast an apologetic look Ursula’s way.
“Here,” he passed Cameron the reins. “I’ll saddle one of the others. You take Charon and I’ll catch up.”
“Brodie’s stallion?” Cameron blanched. “But—is he safe?”
“Charon? Sure he is!” Rye gave the horse’s rump a slap. “I’ve been ridin’ him the whole time. He’s solid as a rock.”
“Not that I’m feart of the animal, o’course.” Cameron gave the horse a doubtful pat.
“Wouldn’t think it for a minute.” Rye nodded to Buckie, that he might bring round another of the horses. He couldn’t help notice the lad was also looking somewhat pale. He’d have a word with Campbell, the head stableman; perhaps Buckie had been working too hard.
With a stiff smile, Cameron brought his boot into the stirrup and swung himself into the saddle.
No sooner had he done so than Charon uttered a full-throated whinny. The stallion reared onto his hind legs, peddling wildly. With a buck, he jumped to the side, throwing Cameron clear out of his seat.
Ursula screamed as the young man flew toward the hard cobbles. His landing came with a horrible thud.
“Dear God!” Rye grabbed at Charon’s reins, attempting to calm him before those powerful hooves came down on Cameron’s prone body. Something had spooked the beast badly, and even the best of horses were unpredictable when frightened.
The stable lad, meanwhile, was backing away in horror.
