I eyed it with careful scrutiny.
Owen tilted his head to look more directly into my eyes. “I can assure you that it isn’t poisoned.”
I glanced up at him, a small smile creeping onto my lips. But I said nothing.
“Annette, what do you have against this color?” he asked, apparently sensing my resentment.
“Nothing.”
“Then take it. Please. And you will learn to love it.”
I accepted it, only because I knew he wouldn’t relent until I did. I held it far away from me, making a note to dispose of it later.
His gaze flickered from the rose to my face, confusion written on his features. Thankfully, he moved his eyes from minewithout asking for an explanation. He nodded toward the stalls. “Would you like to meet the horses?”
Excitement surged within me. There had always been a special place in my heart for animals. “Yes.”
I followed him down the aisle to the nearest stall where a tall, dark horse stood, shifting restlessly. “This is Cosmo,” Owen said. “He belongs to my elder brother, Edmund.”
I rubbed the horse’s muzzle and ran my finger along the space between his eyes. My father had once told me that a horse would become your best friend if you did that. Cosmo’s fur was short and coarse, and the fuzzy skin on his snout was slightly wet. Owen moved down the row, naming off each horse. I paused at every stall, making sure to stroke each one between the eyes.
Owen stopped at the stall second to the end to rub the muzzle of a copper colored horse. “This one is mine. I received him from my father when he was only a foal.”
“What’s his name?” I asked, leaning toward the horse in curiosity.
“First, you must understand that I was very young when I named him.” I could hear the smile in his voice.
I turned around to face him. “Now I’m really curious.”
Owen dropped his gaze and scuffed his boot across the floor. He glanced at me with a small smile. “Horsey.”
I laughed. “Horsey? You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
I looked at the horse again. He had large, round eyes and a playful expression. “He certainly looks like a Horsey.”
“That is precisely what I thought.” Owen laughed and gestured to the last stall. “And this lovely mare’s name is Eve.”
I walked up to Eve’s stall and stroked her head. She had a black, shiny coat with friendly features. She whinnied heartilyand it almost looked like she was smiling. I rubbed between her eyes and down her muzzle.
“I think she likes you,” Owen said, leaning against the wall.
I smiled at her. “She’s lovely. Look at her perfect coat and gentle eyes. I think her face is the most beautiful so far.”
“I would disagree.” The soft tone of his voice made me glance up at him. My heart skipped at his warm expression—the way his eyes roamed my face. It was clear that he meant me. I moved my gaze away quickly and cleared my throat. The flirtation shouldn’t have induced such panic, but it was the only reaction I could feel.
I couldn’t have him thinking he was clever with his choice of words. “Well I shouldhopemy face is more beautiful than a horse’s,” I said.
His brows shot up and he laughed. I felt a surge of satisfaction. I liked surprising him. I had promised myself I wouldn’t take his flirting seriously, and I never broke my promises.
“What I meant to say was that you resemble her,” he quipped with a playful grin.
I turned my back to the stall, facing him fully. “I’ll take that comparison over a boiled radish.”
His eyes lit up with realization. “So this is the grudge you’ve been holding. ”
“No.”
