Richard smiles.“You still have to pony her horse back, or I’m not looking at anything.”
The Germans look legitimately distressed.
“Do they even know how to get back to Fortwilliam?”I ask.“Richard, be reasonable.”
“Oh, please.It’s half a mile that way, in a straight line.”He points.“A four-year-old child could get back safely.”
The Germans are talking a mile a minute, and then Heinrich turns to me.“My friend here, Michael, has been a trainer in Germany for twenty-five years.We promise to get your horses and your little girl back safely.”
Ah, my heart—I wish I had a girl of my own.“Clara, what do you think?”
She’s beaming about the whole thing.“I think you should go on the date.”She drops her voice to a hiss so Richard won’t also hear.“Or I’ll rat you out to my mom.”
Which is how, two minutes later, I’m riding a new horse down the river bank, hoping we don’t startle any birds as we walk through the rustling leaves.I’ve been on this horse for less than a minute, so I’d rather not find out how stiff his bucks are quite yet.As we move, I test his suppleness—pretty good, especially for a trail ride with a new rider.He’s responsive, and he’s a beautiful mover, even at a walk.He has impulsion and energy but smooth, even steps.His ears are alert.
“When are you going to tell me why you made this so hard?”Richard’s eyebrow is quirked.“Is this some kind of game to make sure I know you’re worth the effort?”
I sigh.This is when I should tell him.“I?—”
Three geese explode out from behind a fallen log, honking and winging their way up and out over the river.
I should have asked my horse’s name, so I could shout it along withWhoawhile I haul back on his reins.Once we get the horses stopped, Richard’s laughing.“You did that on purpose, just so you didn’t have to answer.”
It’s so ridiculous that I find myself laughing.“Now I’m able to orchestrate geese bursts?You’re quite lucky to be on a date with God Herself.”
He’s laughing even harder now, and when he finally slows down, he wheezes.“Pretty sacrilegious.”
I shrug.“I’m not sure it really is, when it’s just a joke.”
“That’s why I said sacrilegious and not blasphemous.”
I sigh.“I can’t adequately banter with someone who has a degree from Oxford’s divinity school.”
“Cambridge,” he says.“And I didn’t actually graduate, so no degree.I’m six credits short.”
Oh my word—he really...“We aren’t really in the same league, Richard,” I say.“We both like horses, and you have a second, or is it athirdestate, in Ireland near the one I own a partial interest in, but honestly, this isn’t a good fit.”I wave the air between us.“As bad as things were with you and Natalie, it’ll be worse than that with us.That’s why I put things off.”
There.That should do it.Right?
Only, Richard just seems to ignore me.“How about we race down toward the nunnery?”
“We—what?”
But Richard has already urged Cachacco forward, and my competitive instincts take over.“Alright, Big Red,” I whisper, squeezing him hard.“Let’s see what you’ve got.”
The ground underneath his hooves is soft but not slippery, and loamy chunks spray in every direction as my borrowed red chestnut takes off.I beat him by a hair.
Still.
A win’s a win.
“Best of two?”he asks, his sides heaving as much as Cachacco’s.He tosses his head.“Give them two minutes to rest, and let’s head for Lismore.”
I roll my eyes.“Richard.Be serious.”
“I am.”His eyes are sparkling.“We may be doomed, but even you have to admit, this is fun.How many men in this county—no, thiscountry—could give you a solid race on horseback?”
I snort.“Let’s see.Rían, Aodhán, the guy I met when I was?—”
