“Everything alright?” Evergreen asked.
“My,” I said, finding a deliberate way to laugh. “How bold you are to ask.”
He took a lengthy step toward the yard; I followed after.
“That’s it?” I wondered. “You don’t care what the letter said?”
“Not really. Am I expected to?” he asked. “Hardly appropriate behavior of a man speaking to someone so above his station.”
“Ah. I see. Once again, I have irritated that wound, have I? And through some minor annoyance that I had no control over, like my station. Pray. How might I correct this blunder so that you may feel freedom to speak to me?”
When he got to the stables, he rocked the door back, gesturing me inside.
“Do you remember where the river is?” he asked.
“You really don’t care?” I scoffed, annoyed. “I don’t know why you would. I don’t! That’s a fact!”
“The river, ma’am?” he asked.
“North? I think?” I stood patiently next to Ice’s stall, only to be overlooked and offered Tails. “I know it’s north; I don’t know why I shaped it as a question,” I said. “Why can I not ride Ice today?”
Cyrus brought the horse to me by the lead, but his attention traveled to my crown.
I inhaled, spewing,“Yes,it’s braided again.Yes.It was down this morning when you saw it.It is what it is, Mr. Evergreen.I think the best course of action is if we just choose to ignore the fact that you’ve seen me in my vulnerability.”
His fingers rose and plucked something from the roots, moving then to present it to me. It was a ladybug.
I shut my mouth as it spread its wings and flew into the rafters.
“Oh,” I said.
The corner of his mouth peaked. “Have you been worried about yourhairthis whole time?” Then he handed me the strap.
“I,” I stammered. “I don’tcarewhat you think of it! As I said, it is what it is!”
“You wound me,” he said, laughing. “I can’t believe you don’t care what I think. What with your vulnerability.”
“It isn’t funny,” I said. “Why are you– Stop!”
“Christ,” he muttered. “Alright then. If I tell you, will you forgive me for yesterday?” he asked. “I was in a foul mood. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
“If you tell mewhatexactly?”I asked. “Stop it. Stop laughing at me!”
“I’m laughing at the situation. You’re all worked up,” he said. “So, go on, ask me what I think of your hair.”
The R seemed to hang past his breath.
“It’s longer than I expected,” he said anyway, watching me swallow. “Darker. Your highlights are hidden when it’s down, but…” Then he didn’t finish it.
“But what?”I asked.
He grinned wickedly and shook his head. “You do realize all the women herewear their hair down? It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. If anything, yourbraidis more a change for me.”
I blushed.
“I can’t believe that bothered you,” he said.
“I felt very exposed,” I explained.
