Chapter Three
He couldn’t gallop to where she stood, much as he wanted to. It was too risky and the mare didn’t deserve a stumble or an injury just because he wanted to find out about a woman.
So he took his time, letting Whiskey find her way where he directed her, and keeping his eyes on the woman as he neared her.
It was indeed his rescuer. She was smiling slightly at his approach, not moving or doing anything but stand and watch him as her hair stirred slightly in the cold breeze. She wore a thick dark green cloak wrapped around her and a muff of some fur that almost matched her hair.
There was the same sort of fur trimming the hood but she had let that slip to her shoulders.
Where had she come from?
He glanced around and this time saw her footprints, coming from a break in the hedge not far behind her.
He smiled too. Now he knew her hiding place. It was the same one he’d played in so many years ago.
“Hullo.” She spoke, a gentle greeting that traveled over the snow to him without effort.
“Hullo,” he answered. “I’d hoped to find you again.”
“You did?”
He finally reached her and dismounted, throwing the reins over Whiskey’s head and then collecting them in one hand. “Yes.” His gazed roamed over her, returning to her face. “I wanted to thank you.”
“No need.”
“And I wanted to see if you were real.”
She laughed at that, a merry sound that made him smile as well.
“Oh I’m real enough, Mr. Chillendale.”
He nodded. “You have the advantage of me, Miss…?”
She turned. “My name is Eldridge. And if you’d care to follow me, I believe I can offer you tea…”
The glance she flashed him over her shoulder, her face shining behind the rich fur…well it lit a fire in his loins that caught Reid by surprise. He almost stumbled, but Whiskey held steady and his grip on her reins kept him upright.
“Do watch your step. And perhaps secure your mount here? I doubt she’ll pass through the hedge too comfortably.”
He couldn’t argue with that, remembering all too well the scratches he and Brent had gathered during their days at their “club”.
Making sure Whiskey was secured yet had enough freedom to forage in the snow for grass, he followed Miss Eldridge through the gap, noting the bare ground where she’d trodden earlier.
“How did you manage to leave me without a trace?”
She walked on toward the face of the cliff that rose at the end of the hedge. “I backtracked, walking in your steps until I could hide my own. ‘T’was quite simple. But it amused me.”
“It drove me quite mad trying to work out how you had simply vanished.”
“Good.”
He heard the laughter in her voice. “Well I’m glad I made you happy. Small thanks for rescuing me, but there it is.”
She reached the door and paused. “Are you angry? If so, you may leave. You’ve met me and learned my name. That should suffice.”
Oh no, she wasn’t getting rid of him that easily. “I’m not angry. I’m intrigued.” He looked around him. “And you should be nicer to me, since I built this shelter many years ago.”
“Really?” She walked inside. “I wish you’d added running water.”
