Chapter 6

Of Horses and Men

About three hours and sixteen horses later neither Ben nor Hoss nor Joe couldn’t help but feel frustrated. After lunch they had taken their guest to the corral behind the barn and presented her with every horse they thought suitable for a lady like her. Miss Juliet had found friendly words for every horse they’d shown her, but she had always ended with, “But it’s not quite what I’m looking for.”

When they had asked her to be more specific, well, she had become more specific: She didn’t want a shiny black horse (“presumptuous!”), she didn’t want an Indian pony (“too small, that’s just ridiculous!”), she didn’t want a calm horse (“I don’t want it falling asleep in mid-canter.”), she neglected a beautiful white horse with a waving long white mane (“I am not a little girl!”), and she didn’t want a sturdy drafthorse (“I certainly don’t picture myself on a coach horse!”).

Now Ben was at a loss. Of course, he had more horses to sell, but most of them weren’t ready trained, and quite a lot of them were reserved for the army anyway. These horses weren’t for a lady who’d probably ride them side saddle.

“Miss Heatherstone, I’m afraid I have to think this over. Why don’t we go back to the house and have a break. A cup of tea, maybe, and a piece of Hop Sing’s apple-pie?”

“I wouldn’t mind a tea break, thank you,” she answered.

Ben gestured his sons to follow and took Miss Juliet’s arm to lead her back to the yard. When they rounded the corner of the barn, she suddenly stopped. She pointed to a big chestnut horse that was now tied to the hitching rail next to the house.

“This horse here. Why didn’t you show me this horse? This is exactly the horse I want.” She crossed the yard in a few long strides and before anyone could shout out a warning she got a hold of the horse and gently stroked its muzzle. “Hey, my boy. Now aren’t you a beauty?” she cooed.

Hoss reached her in a split second. He took hold of the horse’s head collar. “Ya shouldn’t touch a horse ya don’t know, Miss Juliet,” he said. “And ol’ Sport here don’t like strangers very much.”

“He seems quite friendly, Hoss,” she replied irritated. “And he seems to like me. I like him anyway. How much is he?”

“Ma’am, this here horse is not fer sale. He’s my brother’s horse.”

She turned to Joe, who had caught up with them, and gazed at him expectantly. “Joe, you surely don’t need two mounts. How much do you want for this horse?” It was rather a statement than a question, and from Miss Juliet’s tone of voice it was very plain that she felt the business as good as done.

“No, Miss Juliet, you got that wrong,” Joe explained. “This is our other brother’s horse.”

She looked up surprised—annoyed even—with a tsk, but gathered herself together quickly. She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe he wants to sell it then.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Adam’s amused voice sounded from the porch.

Ben, who had followed the interchange without a word, watched Miss Juliet turning towards the dark baritone. She paused when she took sight of Adam, who came down from the porch and rounded his horse. Adam stopped in midstride. He gazed at Miss Juliet and a pleased smile curled his lips. Ben’s eyes went from Adam to Miss Juliet and back. They both seemed to take an instant liking to each other, something Ben found rather peculiar. Adam, sweaty and still clad in his filthy travelling clothes made quite a difference to Miss Juliet’s Sunday best appearance, which should have roused a scowl or at least an arched eyebrow from her. But this time her eyes widened in approval and there was not a trace of the looking down her nose on things that didn’t seem to fit her high-flown standards she had displayed earlier. And Adam, who was normally drawn to the petite, gentle and vulnerable kind, the kind of woman who would never dream of making demands or looking a man they barely knew straight in the eye as Miss Juliet was doing right now, Adam took in her tall stance, the defiantly lifted chin, the small smile tugging at the corners of her lips and he quite obviously liked what he saw. Ben wouldn’t blame him for that, though. She was a pleasant enough sight. Her dress of cream and linden green striped silk, with delicate embroideries of tiny flower bouquets, displayed her slender frame effectively and flattered her pale skin and honey coloured hair. If not for those freckles, the stern set of her jaw and her bordering-on-ridiculous height, contemporary taste might even have considered her a beauty. The way it was, she was at least nice to look at and Adam did that with much perseverance. Finally he offered her his hand.

“Hello. I think we haven’t met yet, Miss. I’m Adam Cartwright.”

She smiled at him. “How do you do, Mr. Cart—”

“Adam, please say Adam.”

“Adam.” This time she beamed. “I’m pleased to meet you. I am Juliet Heatherstone. Juliet.”

“You know who she is?” Joe embarked to reveal the sensation. “She’s the new writer from the Territorial Enterprise, Adam.” He tried to catch Adam’s gaze. “She’s not a man, she’s a woman,” he added unnecessarily.

Adam’s eyes never left Juliet’s face. “Well, that’s quite obvious, little brother, don’t you think?” His smile deepened. “I am very honoured and delighted to meet the person who made my evening read so enjoyable, Juliet.”

Juliet played with a stray lock of hair that had escaped her untidy loose bun and, unbelievingly, lowered her head in a coy gesture. “Thank you, Adam. That’s a very kind thing to say.” Her fingers remained loosely at her neck with the stray entangled in them in a complicated pattern when her head slowly turned up and she peered at Adam from under her eyelashes.  Eyes wide and as innocent as they could be she asked, “Now what about your horse?”

Adam stared at her surprised until he noticed the tiniest twitch at the corner of her mouth and chuckled, “No, never in a million years, my dear Juliet. Even though this performance should earn you some reward.”

Juliet laughed out at that. Her face went back into her normal laconic expression and she said, “Well, it was worth a try, wasn’t it? But still—this is the kind of horse I’m looking for. Don’t you have any more of those?”

“Sport is a brand of his own, Miss Juliet, there aren’t many like him around,” Joe tried to prevent what was bound to happen.

Juliet didn’t spare him a glance. “Adam?”

Adam considered her for a moment and turned to his father. “Pa, haven’t you shown her Niobe?”

His question unleashed a minor uproar. “You can’t consider Niobe suitable for a lady.”—“That horse will never go side-saddle!”—“Adam, are you plumb loco?”—“Ma’am, Niobe here is even more spookier than ol’ Sport!”—“That horse is not even trained for an English saddle!”—“Too big!”—“Too nervous!” —“Son, think! It would be very irresponsible to give Miss Heatherstone a horse like that.”

In midst of all that Juliet stood, straight and still, her eyes on Adam’s face, smiling expectantly. “Can you show me this horse? Please?” she asked in a low voice that was audible for Adam through the turmoil only because his eyes had been fixed on her as well. He nodded and went into the barn to get the notorious horse while his family was discussing why Miss Juliet wouldn’t want to ride a horse like that.

It was love at first sight. Juliet circled the tall dark chestnut mare and took in the horse’s appearance with eyes that spoke of utter delight. She stroked the horse’s elegant head with the small white blaze, spoke in gentle cooing words to her; and Niobe pressed her face against Juliet’s shoulder and beggingly stomped her fine-boned foreleg. That seemed to settle it.

“She’s perfect! She’s exactly what I was looking for,” Juliet exclaimed rather enthusiastically.

“Miss Heatherstone, this horse is a very peculiar animal, and not trained for sidesaddle—”

“Look at these legs, Adam!”

“Miss Heatherstone, I’d prefer you decide upon another—”

“Do you see her eyes? Very intelligent eyes. It will be pure bliss to work with her.”

“Miss Juliet, ma’am, that ain’t no horse fer ya. She’s—”

“Of course, there are the facts that she isn’t trained for my needs and that she isn’t what you would usually ride in this terrain. This has to be considered when we fix a price for her, don’t you think?”

“Miss Juliet, my brother must be joking, this is not—”

“All right then, let’s talk about money, Adam.”

“Sure. And with pleasure. Why don’t we go inside, have a brandy and a nice little chat about—money?”

Adam held his hand out to Juliet giving her an inviting smile and when she came to his side, with a gracious nod of her head and a mischievous smirk, he took her arm and led her into the house. Ben, Hoss and Joe were left standing on the yard, dumbfound and gaping.

“Hoss, can you see me?” Joe asked after a while.

“’Course I can see ya. What’sa matter with ya?” Hoss replied.

“And you can hear me too?”

“I can hear ya alright. Are ya loco?”

“No, I just feel like Miss Juliet couldn’t see me. And she didn’t hear me either. So I wondered whether I had turned invisible,” Joe said with a shrug.

Ben chuckled. “It seems we all turned invisible to her when Adam appeared.”

“Yeah, an’ she’s done goin’ all soft on him,” Hoss noted. “No sniffin’ at him.”

Joe shook his head. “I bet she just tries to wrap him around her finger to make her a good price on the mare,” he said. “But Adam’ll show her!”