“Follow me.” His wife tilted her head in the direction of the sunrise and turned her horse and rode out.
She led him to one of the fields he owned. A pasture, empty of sheep right now but full of tall, ungrazed grasses, wet with last night’s rain. There were rough stone walls along the edges and a hedgerow Oliver had pleached himself running down the center. Henrietta turned Zephyr so she faced him.
“My saddle is for jumping.”
“Jumping?”
“When a rider is astride and he jumps his horse, he squeezes his legs together and keeps his seat because of that squeeze. But in a sidesaddle, there’s no purchase for a good squeeze because the lady’s legs don’t go around the horse. You saw the extra horn? That’s for my left leg. I squeeze the regular horn with my right leg and my left leg comes up and squeezes into the extra horn, and I can stay on Zephyr even during a jump. Do you want to see?”
“No.” He had a horrible feeling.
“I’ve done it hundreds of times this summer. Oh, please, Oliver, I’m dying to show you.”
“Is it safe?”
“There’s nothing that’s perfectly safe. You know that. We’ve talked about that.”
Yes, they had. Henrietta was apt to let Nathaniel do all kinds of dangerous things. Climb trees, wade into meres. Oliver would prefer to wrap Nathaniel in cotton batting and never let the boy out of his sight now that he had finally admitted to himself how much he loved his son.
But part of love was encouraging someone’s best qualities. Like bravery. Oliver didn’t want his son to be fearful. He wanted him to have some mettle, like Henrietta and Crispin and all the Staffords did. He had been forcing himself, slowly and painfully, to let Nathaniel have some risk in his life. To let his son have courage while Oliver tried to find his own.
Zephyr snorted and stamped impatiently, but Henrietta controlled him with the reins in one hand, patting his neck with the other.
“It’s as safe as I could make it. And it’s so exciting. Please let me show you.”
She was his wife, and now he felt more protective of her bodily safety than ever. But he should not stifle her. He could not. He had vowed to give her what she wanted. She was a grown person of reason and sense, and she wanted this.
“Yes,” he said. He got off his own horse and stood back.
Henrietta cantered Zephyr around the periphery of the field and then came galloping back towards Oliver and the hedgerow.
No. Stop. Turn back.He swallowed down his words and instead concentrated on his wife’s fiercely exuberant face, her horse’s indisputable strength and grace, how the two of them moved as one.
On the jump, Oliver held his breath, but Zephyr and Henrietta cleared the hedgerow easily. Together they were a creature in flight, soaring and triumphant, capable of astounding feats.
He ran to vault the stone wall since he knew this was the fastest way around the hedgerow. As he did so, he heard screams.
His heart simultaneously choked him and sank into his belly.
But Henrietta was still on Zephyr, bringing the horse into a canter and a slower loop back around the field. She was screaming in triumph.
He ran to her through the wet, tall grasses as she rode towards him.
“Did you see that?” she shouted. “That’s the highest we’ve ever taken, and for a moment, I didn’t think?—”
As she slowed Zephyr and Oliver came up beside them, he brought his arms up and gripped her waist. She didn’t resist,taking her left foot out of its stirrup, putting her hands on his shoulders and sliding down.
“What’s wrong? It went perfectly, didn’t?—”
He seized her face in his hands and turned it up to his and kissed her. Deeply. He poured everything he had into the contact of his lips on hers. His desire. His despair that she might have injured herself, been lost to him. His love.
Yes. Love. He loved this woman with every particle of his being. More than he would have ever thought possible. No one had ever loved someone as much he loved her.
His teeth clashed with hers, their breaths melded, and he groaned his love into her mouth.
When the kiss ended, she stared up at him, her lips apart, her blue eyes wide with astonishment.
“You,” he panted. “You are the most impossibly beautiful and wonderful woman I have ever known. And I’ve done everything wrong with you. I ignored you and then I ruined you and then I wed you and then I loved you and then I tried to give you a baby and then . . . I’m sorry.”
