“Oh, aye. We both are,” he added in an undertone, glancing uneasily up at the clear blue sky above them. Melody wondered if he was anticipating rain.
The keep receded behind them, inch by inch. She was under no illusions—Faun was the one moving forward, deciding which way to go. She simply followed Thunder, plotting along comfortably, not at all uneasy about the stiff and terrified human on her back.
All conversation had ceased, of course. Melody had no breath or thought left for chatter, as her entire being was focused on the horse beneath her and the reins clutched in her hands. What if Faun were to suddenly take off on a gallop for no reason? What if she reared suddenly? What if the seemingly firm and sturdy saddle began to slip after all? The possibilities were endless, and each one was more terrifying than the last.
Callum glanced over at her, gaze raking down her form. He clicked his tongue in disapproval and urged Thunder toward her, close enough that the horses’ sides almost touched. Leaning over, he placed one hand over hers, adjusting her grip on the reins.
“Ye hold too tightly,” he murmured, close enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath. “Relax. All is well. A too-tight grip will make Faun think somethin’ is wrong. Ye must just hold tight enough to let her ken that ye are there, but nae tight enough for her to be afraid, do ye understand?”
She nodded tightly, saying nothing. His hands were warm, the palms rough. She’d felt this sensation before, of his hands on her skin. It sent a shiver through her body, a sort of tensing in her stomach. She had felt exactly the same way last night, in the teasing moments before Callum truly touched her. It was a littlesurprising to feel that way now, here, when they were out in the open. He was not even touching her with intent; he was merely adjusting her grip on the reins.
Almost as abruptly as he’d leaned over, Callum leaned back, withdrawing his hand from hers. The sensation remained, however, tickling through her blood like a fever.
“There,” he said approvingly. “Much better. Nicely done. Ye are a born rider, Melody. Ye should have been doin’ this years ago. Daenae forget to apply pressure with yer knees, to let Faun ken which direction to turn in.”
Melody gave a huff. “Faun does not need my direction. She knows exactly where we are going, I think. Has she followed this route before?”
Callum’s expression snapped tight shut. He turned away abruptly, fixing his gaze on the road ahead of them.
“Aye, Faun kens the way,” he observed. “I might as well tell ye now, before anybody else in the keep does. She was once me wife’s horse. The previous Lady MacDean was a keen rider, and had several horses of her own. Faun was one. I had nay heart to ride the horses meself after me wife passed, so I sold them or gave them away to people who would care for them, but I never could bring meself to give away Faun. Perhaps she’ll carry ye as well as she carried the previous Lady MacDean.”
Melody found that a lump had lodged in her throat. There was something raw and harsh in Callum’s voice. Had she ever heard such emotion from him before?
Perhaps he isn’t made of stone all the way through.
“Thank you,” she managed at last. “For trusting me with her. The horse, I mean. I shall do my best to care for her.”
He flashed her a tired smile. “I’m sure ye will try.”
They walked on in silence for perhaps another twenty minutes, then the path abruptly narrowed and sloped upward. It was a rocky, twisting pathway, and try as she might, Melody could not see what lay ahead.
Callum and Thunder led the way, of course, and Faun trooped obediently after them. She was just gathering the courage to ask whether they were nearly there when the path leveled out, and the dense woodland around them pulled back to reveal a huge clearing.
Melody’s breath caught in her throat.
“Oh,” she gasped. “Oh, it’s beautiful.”
Callum glanced back at her and grinned. “Aye, I’d agree with ye on that one, lass.”
A tall, rocky cliff loomed up above them, with a deep-looking natural pool at its base. Moss clung to the stones, and long, trailing vines drifted down into the water, creating a sort of curtain of green. The grass climbed almost all the way up to the edge of the water, thick and confident. Wildflowers dotted here and there, little bursts of color amongst the long grass.
She could imagine someone basking on the flat, even on the rocks, on a hot day, sunning themselves like a happy snake. They might even slip into the cool-looking water and swim through the green vines.
“It’s so beautiful,” she breathed. “And look, those wildflowers are in my favorite colors! Pink and blue. Oh, that’s lovely.”
“Come on, lass, down ye get.”
She flinched at Callum’s half-laughing voice and glanced down to find him standing beside Faun, arms outstretched to lift her down.
“There’s nay mountin’ block here,” he explained unnecessarily.
That was a good point. The distance to the ground seemed suddenly very great, and Melody tightened her grip on the reins.
“Come, swing yer leg over the side of the saddle,” Callum urged, “and I’ll lift ye down.”
“It’s a long way.”
“And I will nae let ye fall,” he promised.
