Where Love Runs Free (Tales from the Upcountry) (10 page)

“Like Isabella.”

“You’ve gotta help me,
Jessie.”

“What am I supposed to do
about it?” she asked, yawning.

“I want you to go visit
Rutherford Hall.”

“What?”

“Shh!” Angelina hissed,
looking toward the door. “Just go visit over there and see what Edward’s up
to,” she whispered again, “how he’s training and which horse he’s gonna ride
and all that.”

“Me?” Jessie asked, shoving
her index finger in her chest.

“Plus, we need to stay on his
good side, in case things don’t go well with Ben. Edward’s as mad as fire at
me, but he likes you, I know he does. You could fix yourself up, wear that
lavender dress.”

“Angelina, have you lost your
mind? I’m not gonna go throwing myself at your betrothed so I can find out a
little information about his thoroughbreds. And you’re still engaged to him
legally, even if you did give the ring back. Far as I know, he hasn’t released
you from your agreement.”

“He will. I’ll make sure of
it.” Angelina kicked at the covers, wishing it were Edward’s backside she was
kicking. “He’s got his pride. Deep down, he doesn’t want to be married to me
any more than I wanna be married to him.”

“You sure? Think what we
could do with his money.”

“We don’t need his money.”

“But it would be nice. The
barn needs a new roof and I’ve got a long list of improvements that need doing.”

“I’d be like selling our soul
to the devil, Jessie. You don’t know him. I’ve got a real bad feeling about
things.” The taste of tobacco and smoked beef coated her tongue, whisking her
back to the night of the engagement party and Edward’s kiss. “You don’t know
what he’s capable of—I don’t think any of us do.” She gazed at Jessie, who had
closed her eyes again. “Please,” she whispered.

“All right, I’ll sleep on
it.”

Angelina giggled and planted
a kiss on Jessie’s cheek. “But no lavender dress,” she added, pulling away from
Angelina’s embrace. “Its trousers and boots or nothing else.”

Angelina smiled and kissed
her again. “You are the sweetest sister in the world, you know that?”

“Alright, alright—can I go to
sleep now?”

“Yes, sweet dreams.”

Jessie rolled over and in a
moment was breathing deeply. Angelina snuggled down into the covers, picturing
Ben riding Mighty Wind across the finish line of the Carolina Challenge. All of
Laurel Grove would be there cheering him on, accepting him as one of their
own—and she’d be waiting for him. It would be
she
who fell into his arms
and not that pompous Isabella Richardson. He’d get his land back, and she’d
convince him to sell it for a good price and use the money to help grow
Fairington. He’d listen to her then.

Suddenly, sleep came, and Angelina
drifted off into the land of dreams where she and Ben rode Eagle’s Wing
together, up toward Palmetto Ridge.

Ben was dog tired after a
long day in the saddle. He had spent all morning and early afternoon with
Mighty Wind before riding Midnight Storm over to Middleton and giving Isabella
her first official riding lesson on her dappled mare. Ben told her it wasn’t
right to sit astride a horse that didn’t have a proper name, so she came up
with Meg, a character from one of her favorite books. Ben was surprised at how
well she rode, despite her claims of ignorance. And apparently, she had no
trouble securing a smart riding skirt, boots, and a regular saddle that fit her
small frame. Suspicion told him she had more expertise than she let on.

Shuffling into the bunkhouse,
Ben plopped down on his bunk, wanting to catch a few minutes of sleep before
Ella rang the dinner bell. He kicked his boots up on the end of the bed and
covered his face with his hat, picturing Angelina and Jessie watching him as
Tom worked Mighty Wind in the field. Ben could still hear Tom’s voice ringing
in his ears, telling him to “approach the hedge a little closer before taking
the jump,” or “pull back on the reins and force the horse to pace himself,” and
“keep up the momentum when you see those trees.”

Ben was grateful for all Tom
was doing. Every day, he could sense the improvement in Mighty Wind’s speed,
strength, and agility. The confidence in Ben soared sky-high, making him feel
invincible when he was on the stallion. He lived for the moment when he crossed
that finish line before Edward and all the other contenders, making a name for
himself as the best horseman in Laurel Grove. Then it would be he and Mighty Wind
back at his daddy’s farm, starting from scratch. He imagined fixing up the
house and the stable, mending the fences and the rings, and replanting his
mother’s garden. He’d need to come up with a name for the farm, something other
than The Smith Farm. He liked Eagle’s Ridge, which reminded him of one of his
favorite Bible verses in Isaiah, the one
Angelina use to quote to him when they were kids.
But
they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up
with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk,
and not faint.
It was the same scripture that inspired the name “Eagle’s
Wing.”

The scuffing of boots on the
floor roused him from his thoughts, followed by the strange sense that someone
was staring at him. Ben tipped the brim of his hat to find Billy with his hands
in his pockets, memorizing the cracks in the floorboards. “Can’t you stare at
the floor somewhere else?” Ben asked. “I’m trying to get a bit of shut-eye
before supper.” Billy cleared his throat and shifted his weight on his boots,
blushing a beet red. Ben peeked at him again and saw the sweat beading up on
his brow, despite the fact that a fresh, cool breeze blew through the open
window. “All right, I see you’ve got something on your mind. What is it?”

“Well, I was wonderin’ if you
could help me out with somethin’.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s kinda sensitive.”

“Sensitive?”

“It has to do with, you know,
a girl. Miranda Sutherland,” Billy said, his face blushing again. “She’s one of
Miss Richardson’s friends, the one I danced with at the party. I know you
danced with her too. She’s ’bout the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, and just
as sweet. And did you see what she was wearin’ that night? Her eyes ’re just as
green, like a spring leaf on a tree. And she’s just as light on her feet, she’s
probably the best dancer ’round these parts, and probably can cook too. I told
myself, a girl who looks that pretty and smiles so sweet and twirls about like
an angel can surely make the best apple pie in the world—that’s my favorite—and
cook up a tall, fluffy batch of biscuits. Don’t ya think?”

Ben couldn’t decide whether
to laugh or feel sorry for the boy. “Well, Billy,” he said, wanting to tread as
gently as he could, “if you’re asking me if a woman’s cooking talents can be
measured by how pretty her clothes are or how sweet her face looks, I’ll have
to tell you, in my experience, that’s not a sure bet. You may find that she
can’t cook a thing, ’cause she’s had all her cooking done for her by some Negro
woman or her mama.”

“Oh, yeah,” Billy said, his
face looking downcast. “Hadn’t really thought about that.”

“’Course none of that really
matters unless she invites you to supper and offers to cook.”

“How do I get her to do
that?” Billy asked, an eagerness brightening his expression. “I guess that’s
what I wanna know. You’re always spendin’ time with Miss Richardson, and she’s
invited you to supper, and Miranda’s her friend and all. I thought, well—” His
face colored again and he hung his head. “I thought maybe you could help me
out, maybe put in a good word for me?”

The look in Billy’s eye
reminded Ben of himself years ago. “You really like her, huh?”

“I do. Know right here in my
heart she’s the one,” Billy said, tapping his chest with the palm of his hand.
“You ever feel like that?”

Ben knew it was no secret
among the Fairington boys what happened between him and Angelina. He was sure
plenty of tongues were wagging around the farm and in town to keep the champion
gossipers satisfied. Mabel Andersen and all of her friends and acquaintances
probably knew more about his relationship with Angelina than he did. “I think
it best I not answer that,” he said curtly, changing the subject. “Has Miss
Sutherland taken a liking to you?”

Billy shrugged his shoulders
and hung his head, contemplating. “She danced with me at the engagement party,
at least three dances. And I mentioned the town fair next week, and she said
it’d be no problem at all if I showed her ’round the prized steed, and then she
could take me ’round to the women’s cook-off competitions where they have all
those cakes and pies. She said “that’d be fine,” those were her exact words. Oh—,”
he added, pointing his finger in his excitement, “and she said she’d come watch
me ride the Promenade.”

Ben had heard Mitchell
talking with Stevie and Ward about the annual town fair, a two-day event
followed by the Davis Supply & Co. Horse Show, known as The Promenade. Other
than the Carolina Challenge, the Promenade was the biggest event of the year,
where the whole town got the opportunity to observe all of the potential
Challenge contenders. Edward would participate, as he did every year, and all
of the Fairington trainers were scheduled to ride as well—Tom had already
registered Ben and Mighty Wind. Ben couldn’t wait to give Laurel Grove a taste
of what was to come in the Challenge steeplechase.

Ben studied Billy again,
picturing him riding Captain’s Galley with his Stetson sitting low on his brow
and his back erect, wearing a white shirt and leather vest—looking more like a
man than the little boy blushing before him. Surely, Miranda Sutherland would
be impressed with what she saw. “Sounds to me like she’s taken a real liking to
you,” he said. “And there’s no doubt she’ll like you even more if you make a
good showing in the Promenade. But, I’ll tell you what, she’s not the one
you’ve gotta woo.”

“She’s not?” The surprise on
Billy’s face brought a sense of pleasure to Ben. He realized he was teaching
this boy some important life lessons, the same way he had been taught. Ben just
wished he had learned them a whole lot sooner.

“Nope,” Ben said, readjusting
his hat and propping his hand under his head. “First of all, you need to pray
to the Lord. You know how to do that?”

“Yeah.” Billy shoved his
hands down further into his pockets and shrugged his shoulders. “My mama taught
me.”

Ben pulled his Bible from his
vest pocket and flipped it open, covering Angelina’s initials with his palm.
Clearing his throat he read, “
Trust in the LORD with all thine heart;
and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and
he shall direct thy paths.
” He waited for a
reaction from Billy, but there was more wonder and confusion than revelation.
“That’s Proverbs 3:5 and 6,” Ben explained. “You ever read Proverbs?”

“Not like I should, I reckon.”
He nodded his head toward his bunk. “Got a little Bible I keep under my
pillow.”

“Won’t do you much good under
there. Get it out and read it, then pray and the Lord’ll help you. ’Cause if
you wanna win her heart, you’ve gotta win the heart of her mama, and more
important—her daddy. They’ve sent her off to school in Charleston so she can
meet some rich man. ’Course it doesn’t appear that she’s found one of them yet,
which means there’s hope for you.” Ben winked at Billy, giving an extra dose of
encouragement. “Now, Mr. Sutherland doesn’t have any sons, which means he’s
probably gonna want his daughter to end up with a man who knows his way around
the horse business. Which is where you come in. You’ve gotta show her daddy
that you’re one of the best horse trainers in the county, then turn right
around and treat her mama like one of those English gentlemen would do. Then, I
do believe Miss Miranda Sutherland will be yours.”

“Oh, boy,” Billy said,
slapping his hand against his thigh. “You mean it? It’s that simple?” He
grinned at Ben, his eyes glistening with excitement. “Why, I can do that. Show
off at the Promenade, then wash up real good and sweet talk her mama.”

“But don’t forget,” Ben said,
raising an eyebrow. “The praying comes first.”

“Yes, sir.” Billy grinned
again, offering Ben his hand. “I do thank you,” he beamed, pumping Ben’s arm
like an old, unused well. “You know, you’re real nice for an Indian man. You
oughta talk a little more, get to know the other men, so they can see what
they’ve been thinkin’ and believin’ ’bout natives is a buncha lies.”

Ben adjusted his Stetson on
his head and settled back onto his pillow. “I find it’s best to talk only when
there’s something worth saying.”

“You could tell ’em ’bout
prayin’ and readin’ the Bible.”

There was something about
Billy’s smile that touched Ben’s heart. “Go on, now,” he said. “I’m gonna get
some sleep, you hear?”

Billy turned to leave and then
stopped for a moment. “Hey—you think what you told me’s gonna work with you and
Miss Isabella? She’s takin’ a real fancy to you, and Mr. Richardson said he
ain’t never seen anybody ride a horse the way he’d seen you ride Midnight Storm
that day. And since her mama’s gone off to heaven, looks like Middleton’s yours
for the askin’. Why, you could be one of the biggest horse farm owners ’round
here. You ever think ’bout that?”

Ben plopped his hat over his
eyes and crossed his boots. His mind drifted off to the oak tree on Palmetto
Ridge where a grand horse farm rested on the other side with the name
Eagle’s
Ridge
hanging from a sign at the end of the road. “Yep,” he said, “I think
about it all the time.”