Two days later
Bridgewater Stables
“It’s been a few days, sweet Winterborne. I’ll bet you thought I’d forgotten you,” Bella said softly, holding out a carrot for her late father’s horse. “I’ve missed you.”
The black thoroughbred with a mark resembling a white snowflake on its forehead accepted the carrot with a gentle nuzzle, then neighed softly.
Bella stepped onto the bottom slat of the gate, leaning over to press a kiss to the horse’s forehead. The familiar scent of leather and hay mixed with the comforting presence of Winterborne brought an ache to her chest. Being near him was like holding a piece of her father close—soothing yet tinged with sorrow. She suspected the horse felt the same. The groom had assured her that Winterborne was eating and obedient during his morning exercises, but the grief in his eyes mirrored her own.
Bella sighed, brushing her fingers lightly over the soft patch of white fur. “I know how you feel, my friend. We’ll muddle through this sadness together, won’t we? Do you want another carrot?”
The large horse whinnied and bobbed his head as if in reply, dark eyes sparking briefly with life.
“Ha! I thought so. I brought a pocket full just for you.” She reached into her pelisse, pulled out several more carrots, and held one up teasingly.
“I thought we might find you here, Bella,” came a warm, familiar voice from behind.
She turned, her heart quickening as she met William’s gaze. Those sparkling sapphire-blue eyes never failed to captivate her, their intensity both unsettling and exhilarating.His easy smile sent a pleasant warmth spiraling through her. Why was it that whenever he was near, her composure seemed to slip? She forced herself to focus, hoping the brisk morning air might disguise the color rising to her cheeks.
“William. Michael. How nice to see you both. Good morning,” she greeted them. “I was just talking to Winterborne. And feeding him these.” She held out a carrot. “He’s much more chipper since he’s gained access to his favorite treat.”
Michael stepped forward, his small hands gripping the gate as he peered up at the horse. “He looks sad,” he said.
Bella looked again at the horse—this time, looking into his eyes—and noted that despite the carrot treats, the creature did appear sad. “You’re very observant, Michael. Winterborne does look sad.” She paused, stroking the horse’s nose gently. “He was my father’s. They were very close, and Winterborne misses him.”
Michael’s big, curious eyes fixed on her. “What happened to your father?” he asked softly.
Bella drew in a steadying breath, the weight of the memory pressing on her. “He passed away from injuries after being thrown from Winterborne,” she explained. “Father loved riding in the mornings to see the sunrise, but that day… something must have spooked Winterborne. It was foggy, and when Father fell, he hit his head on a rock.” Her voice faltered for a moment, but she forced a small, reassuring smile. “He never recovered.”
Michael was quiet for a moment, then tilted his head. “Do you blame him?” he asked, his youthful sincerity cutting straight to her heart.
The question made her pause. She crouched slightly, meeting the boy’s earnest gaze. “That’s a fair question, Michael. But no, I don’t blame Winterborne. He loved my father very much and would never have wanted to hurt him. We don’t knowwhat frightened him that day, but I’m sure he wishes things had been different too.”
Michael nodded solemnly, his missing front teeth making his lips curl as he thought. “Then why don’t youwidehim?”
“Michael, you go too far,” William gently admonished his brother. “I’m sorry…”
Bella held up her hand to stop William’s apology. “Why did you ask me that, Michael?” she asked gently.
The boy fidgeted with something in his pockets. “I don’t know why,” he finally said. “I just thought of it.”
“My mother wrote me, shortly before she passed, and said that Michael seemed to prefer the animals to playing with children in the area,” William said. “He told her that the children could be mean, but animals were never mean to him. Perhaps that was the beginning of his connection with animals. My father’s horses fascinated him. Unfortunately, Father died while my mother was pregnant with Michael, and he missed out on knowing his father’s gentle soul.”
“And your mother?” Bella asked softly.
A shadow crossed William’s face as he replied. “She died of scarlet fever almost three years ago—they had an outbreak near our home. After she passed, Michael was ferried between relatives in my absence—so, as soon as it was feasible, I made changes so my brother could live with me.” He playfully tousled Michael’s curly hair. “There’s no sense in having wealth if you can’t use it to help those you cherish.”
“I agree,” Bella said, absorbing his words. She knelt to be at eye level with Michael. “So, you think Winterborne is… lonely?” she asked.
“He is,” Michael said with unmistakable assurance. “I see it in his eyes. His heart hurts, my lady. Maybe he wants you towidehim.”
Bella stood and turned to look at her father’s magnificent thoroughbred, focusing intently on his large, soulful eyes. She could have sworn she saw a glimmer of moisture—perhaps a tear—glistening there. “I think you’re right,” she murmured. What a sensitive boy to understand Winterborne’s distress. “Do you know how to ride, Michael?” she asked.
“No, my lady,” he said, shaking his head and looking longingly up at Winterborne.
Her eyes met William’s as he cleared his throat. “I haven’t had the time to teach him yet,” he said.
Michael straightened his shoulders. “It’s all wight, Will. You’re busy with all yourbusy-ness.”
