“Your talk of Annie frightened him off,” said Brandon, sweeping his thumbs lightly across her instep. He watched her eyes squeeze more tightly together. “Brave lady. You were very lucky it was Rainbow and not one of the horses who used your foot as a resting place.”
“I don’t feel lucky—or brave.”
Brandon put her foot down, lifted the compress on her forehead, and placed a kiss on her brow. “You’re both. Do you want the compress here or there?”
She pointed to her foot. “There. Do I still have a foot?”
“Yes. Bruised and swollen, but it’s there. It will be several days before you’ll be able to get around unaided. I think there may be a cane somewhere. I’ll have Martha—”
“No. No cane.”
“Of course. I wasn’t thinking.” He brought a chair close to the chaise and sat down. “What happened in the stable, Shannon?“’
“I think you know,” she sighed. “Aurora saw us in an embrace and drew her own conclusions.” In a voice devoid of most inflection, Shannon told Brandon the things Aurora had said. “She felt betrayed, Brandon. I didn’t know what to say to her. She had every right to feel that way. I can hardly blame her for what happened, only that she chose to speak her piece in front of Clara.”
Brandon touched Shannon’s arm. “Thank God you sent Clara out. She is the one who gave the alarm. I came when I saw Martha and Cody running to the stable.” He sat back in his chair. “As for Aurora, there is no excuse for her lifting a hand against you, knowing you would not dare strike back.”
“I wanted to,” Shannon admitted uneasily. “But when she reminded me about my stepfather, I—”
“She disarmed you. It’s her way.”
“No, it wasn’t deliberate. She was so hurt and angry.”
“I wonder if she knows how you champion her. It isn’t necessary, Shannon. Aurora can champion herself. I intend to speak with her later, you know.”
“Please don’t threaten her again. I know you and Cody say those things in jest, but it is beneath you. Neither of you mean it.”
“Don’t we?” His short laugh lacked humor. “Sometimes I wonder.”
Chapter 12
Shannon stepped off the verandah, bearing down on her foot, testing its strength. She glanced around to make certain no one was watching. After arguing with Brandon and Martha that she was fit to be out of doors, it would not do for them to see her falter.
Shannon chose the path to the river. Dry, fallen leaves scattered as her skirt brushed the ground. During her week of confinement, the trees along the bank had lost their emerald hue, taking on the colors of autumn’s reds and rusts. The air was cooler now, refreshing, she thought, not at all like the chill that permeated the house. Since the incident at the stable, Aurora rarely spoke and was rarely spoken to. Except for her daily rides, which took her away from the folly for hours each morning, Aurora seemed content to stay in her chamber or play the spinet in the music room. Clara was almost wholly ignored by her mother. Though Shannon saw it as Aurora’s way of punishing her daughter, it was clear to everyone save Aurora that Clara was satisfied with the arrangement.
Aurora had tendered an apology to Shannon, which was accepted with more grace than either Brandon or Cody thought it deserved. Shannon felt as if she could do nothing right where her sister was concerned. Any overture she made to Aurora was rebuffed, and it only served to alienate Brandon and cause Cody to look at her as if she were cork-brained.
“They just don’t understand,” she said aloud as she came to the water’s edge. “I cannot trust her with a confidence, I’m not certain I even like her, but neither can I treat her like a pariah.” Shannon considered Brandon was right about Aurora in at least one respect. It was impossible for Shannon not to feel pity for her sister’s profound unhappiness.
“Talking to anyone in particular?” asked Cody.
Shannon spun on her heels, startled by the intrusion. Cody was sitting cross-legged in a nest of leaves about twenty feet from where Shannon stood, polishing the stock of his rifle with a cloth. “Oh! I didn’t see you there.”
Cody grinned, standing. “You’re not supposed to,” he said as he approached. His free hand swept over him, calling attention to his clothes. “These fine garments are to fool rabbits and deer and occasionally a lady such as yourself.”
Shannon laughed, examining the strange costume he wore. She could not recall ever seeing the like before. His tan leather hunting shirt had double collars fringed in forest green. Each seam in the belted shirt was covered with the same fringe, and it swayed gently as he walked. He wore dark green knee breeches, but his shins were covered by leather leggings and held up by beaded and fringed garters. A leather ammunition pack hung from his shoulder. Shannon touched the fringe on his sleeves. “What is this in aid of?” she asked.
“Nothing mysterious, I assure you. It keeps dampness out of the seams and permits me to hunt for hours, even days, without feeling the cold overmuch.”
“Is that what you were doing? Hunting?”
“No. That’s what I was thinking about.” He grinned again, adjusting the brim of his hat a little higher on his forehead. “Actually, what I’m going to do is a bit of target practice. Would you like to watch?”
He so obviously wanted to show off his skill that Shannon had to laugh. “I’d like that,” she admitted. She took a step closer to him and whispered conspiratorially, “But what I’d truly like is to learn to shoot myself.”
Cody considered that a moment. “I could teach you to shoot yourself, but I don’t think Bran would approve.”
Shannon gave him a playful push. “Oooh! You know what I meant! Will you teach me, Cody? To shoot, that is.”
