Her expression remains full of uncertainty, especially when she’s clambering on top of the horse. The stable hand helps her get into the saddle and then backs away, looking nervous. Not half as nervous as Margot looks, though…
Wide eyed, she clutches at the reins.
“You act as if you haven’t ever been on a horse before,” I chide her, mounting my horse.
Beneath her, the mare stands placidly. She looks at me as if I’ve grown a second head. “Of course I haven’t!”
I raise my eyebrows. “Wait, really?”
“No! You think I’m joking about it?” Her expression darkens.
I guide my mount over to Margot, glancing over at her upright posture. “Relax your grip on the reins. Hold them like this.”
I demonstrate, giving my horse a few inches of slack. She copies me, biting her lower lip. I reach over to her and correct her grip once, then smile. “There. Only pull back on the reins when you want the horse to slow or stop. And use your heels to encourage the horse to start moving. Like this.”
I use my heels to nudge Karl forward. Using exaggerated motions, I demonstrate how I guide my horse. Margot’s brow puckers, but she follows my movements. Soon, she guides the horse around the ring, successfully starting and stopping a few times.
“Come on.” I jerk my head to the horizon. “Let’s go out of the ring, into the wild. We’ll go on a really easy ride, okay?”
She looks at me with terrified eyes, but she doesn’t back down. She just swallows. “Okay.”
Margot is clearly afraid but she’s not going to let a little worry keep her from trying something new. God help me, but that’s the most attractive thing she’s done yet. I grin at her, nudging my horse toward the gate.
The stable hand opens the gate, standing aside to let both of us pass. I grin back at Margot as I ride. Her expression is really delightful, part suspicion, part fright, part determination. I lead her down a gentle hill, just as slow as the horses want to take it.
“Wouldn’t Hunter S. Thompson be proud of you right now?” I tease.
She glances over at me, a puzzled frown on her face. “Who?”
“You know, the guy who wroteLeaving Las Vegas. He invented gonzo journalism. He rode with biker gangs, ran for office, and did a ton of drugs.”
“Ah,” she says, chuckling. “Yeah, I recognize the name now. I feel like he’d take one look at me right now and die laughing. This isn’t exactly gonzo journalism.”
“No?” I ask, grinning. “I don’t know… You are obviously out of your element, but you’re keeping your shit together.”
She makes a face. “Maybe. We’ll see.” She looks out at the surrounding landscape, pursing her lips. “I have to say, it’s quite pretty out here. What is that sort of gray plant with purplish blossoms that is growing everywhere here? It just looks like there are endless fields of it.”
My lips twitch. “Heather.”
Margot looks at me, her slender brows rising. “Really? It’s awfully beautiful.”
I nod, adjusting in my saddle. “Ja. There is a famous Danish song about seeing the waves of heather underneath the rolling blue skies…” Eyeing her, I shrug. “During the summer, it is so nice here.”
She slides me a look. “What about during the winter?”
I wrinkle my nose. “The snow is very pretty. It can be breathtaking, in a brutal sort of way. Butja, the snow gets old after a few days.”
“Same thing in New York. Except it is much hotter there during the summer. There’s no air from July until nearly September. Stifling is the word, I think.”
Pulling gently on Karl’s reins, I drop back so that Margot and I can walk two abreast. She shoots me a hasty smile. “What? Am I doing something wrong?”
I shake my head. “No. I just want to be able to see yourface while we’re talking.” I smirk. “You know that everything you are thinking is spelled out by your expressions,ja?”
She sends me a tiny scowl. “It is not.”
“Yes, it is.” I shrug. “When I was younger, maybe age seven or eight years old, I had acting classes. My instructor was a very old French man named Monsieur Bernard. And Monsieur Bernard would make us all dress up and stand in a line to be inspected.” I smile, huffing a laugh. “Little kings and queens, he called us. Even Erik, though I think he knew that Erik was common. Monsieur Bernard always said that it is very important for the family of the king to learn to control their faces at all times.”
Margot looks a little surprised at that. “Really? That’s… interesting. Most parents would be afraid that their children might hide things from them, I would imagine.”
