Read Joan Wolf for Free Online Page B

at Jane and waited for the explosion.
    None came. She held her head high, but she walked to the tack room and closed the door behind her. Once she was safely inside she went to sit apprehensively in “their” corner. She had never seen David so angry.
    No one else in the stable had ever seen him like this, either. They were used to Jane's tempers; they were almost proud of them. But David was another matter; he was always soft-spoken and calm, gentle and easy-going. They were more frightened of his grim mouth and the leaping light in his golden eyes than they ever were of Jane's fireworks.
    David deliberately took his time with Condottiere, hoping the familiar routine would help to calm him down. He wanted to shake Jane until her teeth rattled. When he finally opened the door to the tack room and saw her sitting so meekly waiting for him, his rage flared up once more.
    "I could murder you,” he grated between shut teeth.
    Unexpectedly, she hung her head. “I'm sorry, David,” she said low. “I was wrong. I won't ever do it again.” She looked at him a trifle anxiously. “He wasn't hurt, was he?"
    Outside the door the grooms, who had managed to find work in the immediate vicinity, exchanged looks of amazement. “Did you hear what I did?” Stubbs asked Holland.
    "She said she was wrong,” he replied in a dazed tone.
    "All right, now,” Tuft said briskly, having heard what he was most interested in, “get back to work, lads. Enough hanging about.” They scattered to other areas of the stable, their opinion of David higher than ever.
    Inside, David was saying furiously, “The hell with the bloody horse. Do you realize you might have killed yourself?"
    Her sea-blue eyes widened slightly as she realized that his fury stemmed from concern for her. She stood quietly and let a torrent of words, all of which described her character in highly unflattering terms, pass unchallenged over her head. When he had finally run out of breath, she took a step closer to him. “I'm sorry,” she repeated. “I was stupid. Forgive me, David."
    He stared at her for a long moment, the force of his rage spent. Her ribbon had come loose and her black hair hung in a sheer mantle almost to her waist. Her eyes looked enormous and her mouth trembled slightly. He swallowed. “Let me see your hands,” he said in a more normal tone. Obediently she came across to him and made no murmur as he cleaned and bound the ugly weals on her palms.
    "Why did you do it?” he asked finally when he had put away the medical kit.
    She refused to meet his eyes. “It was just ... oh, I don't know.” She made a vague gesture with her bandaged hand.
    He looked at the shining black head, the top of which reached just below his chin, and felt a sudden pain somewhere in the region of his heart. “Tell me,” he said gently.
    She looked up at him, her light eyes suddenly bright. “Oh, I wish I were a boy!” she cried passionately.
    David's eyes were golden as he regarded the reed-slim figure before him. He put out a hand and touched her hair; it felt like soft silk. He noticed for the first time the beautiful way her head was set on her slender neck. Suddenly he was fiercely glad she was not a boy. He said as much, standing with his hand buried in the soft darkness of her hair. “I like you just the way you are. I don't want you to change at all."
    Jane was oddly still as her great light eyes searched his face. “Really?” she said wonderingly.
    "Really.” There was no mistaking the utter sincerity of his tone.
    She smiled, the enchanting smile she reserved only for him. “I feel better,” she said.
    Reluctantly he took his hand from her hair. “Good. I can take a few hours off this afternoon. Do you want to ride out to Marren Hill?"
    "Yes. I would like that."
    They left the tack room together as in accord with each other as usual. They both knew that something of importance had occurred between them, although neither was quite sure what it was.
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