Page 5 of Reviving Her Highland Spirit

Her calm, friendly attitude was starting to rub off on Callum. Trying to remind himself that she was not his friend, he leaned against one of the stalls, idly rubbing his hand down the nose of a fiery red stallion.

“What happened?”

Maggie sighed. “I’ve always been a good rider. I’m fast, and when I’m on Stardust - well, it always felt like flying. I loved riding. It gets stale after a while, though. That’s the problem.”

Callum thought he knew what she meant. Once you became an experienced rider, a simple gallop across the fields wouldn’t have the same joy to it that it once did. You took it for granted. Your horse - in Maggie’s case, her beloved Stardust - became an extension of yourself.

Riding a horse to get from place to place was never going to be enough. Callum had an idea that he knew where this story was going, and it was not going to end well. When something you love starts to grow dull, you immediately start looking for ways to brighten it up. You’ll try anything to fall back in love with the thing that brought you joy.

“Aye, I ken what ye mean,” Callum said, feeling a pang of pity. “What happened?”

“I tried learning tricks. I could stand up in Stardust’s saddle, I could hang off the side of the saddle. I could do all sorts of jumps. I was good, I can tell ye that. I loved it.”

There was a but coming, Callum could hear it in the way her voice trembled.

“I fell,” Maggie said, her voice tight. “I was trying tae stand up in the saddle and fire off an arrow, a thing I’d done over and over again. My foot slipped. It was a silly mistake. I wobbled, and I suppose that threw Stardust off. She panicked and started going faster. One minute I was that high I thought I might touch the clouds, the next I was falling. I don’t remember hitting the ground, but I remember seeing Stardust’s hooves coming toward me and thinking, this is it.” She drew in a deep breath. “Ma and Pa thought I would die. I laid in bed for weeks, and I dinnae remember any of it. If my parents and my aunt and uncle hadn’t spooned gruel and water down my throat, I’d have starved before I could wake up. But I did wake up, and I’m lucky enough to walk and move the way I did before. I’ve not ridden since, though.”

She swallowed hard, and Callum didn’t want to think of how much the memory hurt her. Things like that tended to leave scars. Not real scars - although he was sure she had some of those - but scars on the inside. Nightmares, hallucinations, and an overwhelming sense of fear and dread.

“I fell from a tree when I was a wee lad,” Callum offered, not entirely sure why he was telling this story. “I remember seeing the branches getting further away, then bang. Pain and blackness. I was terrified o’ heights after that, for quite a long time.”

“And how did ye get over it?” Maggie asked, turning those intense green eyes his way.

“The man who raised me put me on his back and climbed up another tree. He set me on a branch and told me to come down when I wasn’t scared anymore.”

Maggie sucked in a breath. “That’s… that’s cruel. Ye must have been terrified.”

“I was,” Callum admitted. “But he was right. Ye can only tolerate so much fear, then it stops frightening ye, as it did. It took me most o’ the day, but I worked up the courage to climb down. I dinnae fear heights anymore.”

Maggie nodded. “Ye are braver than me, then. I love Stardust, and I know that nothing that happened was her fault. But I just… I just cannae. Not anymore.”

“Have ye tried?”

Callum knew he was getting too bold. He should never forget that Maggie was a lady, and he was a stable boy. They were not the same. She could say and do more or less what she liked to him, but if he made one slip-up when he spoke to her, that would be it. She could get him dismissed. He certainly wouldn’t receive a warm welcome back home if he were dismissed so quickly.

But Maggie only sighed and shook her head. “No. I should have done so by now, I ken. But really, I couldn’t bear it. It’s not fair on me, and it’s not fair on Stardust.”

“She misses you, and I think ye miss her.”

Stop it, Callum, stop it. Quit while ye are ahead. The more ye talk, the more ye might say somethin’ wrong.

Maggie didn’t seem to hear him. She smoothed down the horse’s velvety nose and took a step back.

“She looks healthy, by the way. Happy and healthy. I can see that you’re taking care of her.”

“I do my best. Honestly, she is my favorite,” Callum confessed, earning himself a weak smile. “Look, if ye ever change ye mind about riding again, I can help ye. Ye talk about the joy of riding, how it felt like freedom and like nothing you’d ever known. Like flying, ye said.”

Maggie gave a tiny smile, but Callum sensed that he was losing her.

“I appreciate ye caring about this. Ye seem like a good man. I don’t think I’m fated tae sit in a saddle again, though. If ye like, ye can take Stardust out for a ride sometime. If any o’ the grooms question ye, tell them I gave ye permission.”

She was ending the conversation. Callum gave a short nod and left it there. She smiled faintly at him, her eyes distant.

“Thank ye for listenin’, though.”

“Ye are welcome, Lady Maggie.”

Callum had a sudden, irrational urge to offer his own name. He didn’t, of course. He kept his lips firmly pressed together. Maggie gave Stardust’s nose one last stroke, then turned and left, head bowed, brow furrowed.