Did they not see? Did they not even wish to try? Summer deserved better.
“Get out of my way.” I pushed Lieutenant Rawles off, but Mr. Bratten grasped my arm. Despite raising my voice, I was not heard. “You must do something!”
I could see myself in the pity of their eyes. They thought me irrational, desperate. Sir Ronald lowered the colt to the ground. Peter rubbed the back of his neck, and Lieutenant Rawles stood near them, shaking his head in disappointment.
I broke free from Mr. Bratten, stepping toward the colt. My foot hit something hard, rolling me forward and paining my ankle. Looking down, I saw a hard, green ball, and upon closer examination, realized it was actually a treenut. The thought struck me so fast, I had no time to think, no time to explain.
“Check his mouth,” I shouted at Peter. “His mouth, now!”
“Miss Moore,” Sir Ronald said, and I could tell by his tone he was losing patience. “You need to go back to the house.”
“His airway.” I barely managed the words as I stepped in front of Peter. Tears ran down my face, their salty taste in the creases of my lips. “Please.”
Peter’s mournful expression deepened, but he moved to Winter. Sir Ronald scoffed as Peter opened Winter’s mouth, reaching inside gently.
“It’s blocked,” he said breathlessly as he reached deeper. An audible pop sounded, and Peter fell back.
Lieutenant Rawles reacted instantly, rubbing, patting, and shaking the colt’s still body. We all watched in silent shock. Three steady raps on his back, then a twitch of a leg, and Winter’s eyes flew open.
“There you are.” Lieutenant Rawles breathed a laugh, half in shock.
“I cannot believe it.” Sir Ronald examined the colt, who was standing, shaking out his tail.
Summer bowled into the men, rubbing her face all over Winter as if checking every inch of him.
I wiped my seeping eyes clear, relief flooding my chest. Summer had led me to this very spot at this very moment, and were it not for Peter’s actions, for Peter listening to me, it would have all been for naught.
Peter smiled in awe, watching Winter take awkward steps around the clearing. The men all patted Peter on the back and praised his quick thinking, but he turned to me. His cheeks were reddened as he beamed at me.
“Give your praise to Miss Moore, gentlemen. Did you not hear her?”
“Well done, Miss Moore,” Lieutenant Rawles called.
I swallowed the emotion in my throat, nodding.
“Forgive me, sir,” Mr. Beckett said to Sir Ronald. “Might I suggest returning both the colt and his mother to the stables? He should eat and regain his strength.”
“Indeed, Beckett. If you’ll take Summer, I can lead Winter.” Sir Ronald held out his arm to me. “Miss Moore, forgive me. I am sure you are cold and exhausted. I should get you home straightway.”
“Allow me,” Peter said. “As I have no horse, I can see to Winter and accompany Miss Moore on foot as well.”
Sir Ronald looked between us, before nodding to Peter. “Very well. See that you do not tarry too long, Peter. I am sure Miss Clara worries over her sister.”
Mr. Beckett brought Sir Ronald’s horse to him, then secured Summer, while the others found their horses tied to nearby trees. The men mounted their steeds and raced off through the wood.
“Are you all right?” Peter asked me at last, securing a lead around Winter.
“I am still recovering,” I said feebly. “But yes, I am well enough.”
“You saved him.” Peter’s eyes searched mine. “And we are all amazed. But what were you doing out here alone? I do not need to tell you how dangerous that is.”
I rubbed Winter behind the ears, and we strode toward the stable together. I would not tell Peter how I’d ridden Summer bareback across the pasture.
“No one would have allowed me to search for him on my own. And I knew what Summer stood to lose if I did not help her.”
“I think you two will be bonded forever.” Peter rubbed the colt’s head.
“Thank you, Peter,” I said solemnly. Tears welled in the corners of my eyes, and I fought them back. I wanted Peter to know what his actions had meant to me.
