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“Mr. Stanton sold me this horse. Apparently, she belonged to Clara.”

“The one that caused the accident? Oh mercy.”

The old woman looked as much at a loss as he felt.

Clara raised her head again and petted with long, soft strokes. “Please let me ride her.”

This time she was begging. “Even if your father hadn’t forbidden it, the saddle is not fit for you.” Despite his firm response, Daniel was tempted to give in. He wanted to see her happiness bloom, and from there, find the door to her soul...

A second later she flung her arms to the saddle horn and pulled herself up with an agility he’d never before seen in a woman, and took hold of the reigns.

“Clara! Your ankles are showing!” Mrs. Ramshaw pulled at Clara’s foot. She shook it away. “Get down from there at once!”

Somehow, the girl had loosened the lead. She kicked Esther’s side and the horse automatically made for the road. She kicked again and picked up the pace.

Daniel ran after her. “Clara! Don’t do this!” It was his turn to plead.

She kicked again and Esther broke into a full run. As they rounded the bend, Daniel saw her face. Fully alive and yet completely terrified. And by golly, if it didn’t appear that she enjoyed it too.

“Mrs. Ramshaw! ”

The good lady had already pulled her own dapple gray from the stable. “Retrieve her, Reverend, before she is killed!”

“Your horse has no saddle!”

Her mouth drew a firm line. “Go without or I’ll have to do it. Quick, man!”

Heaven help him. He stepped on a mounting stone, and with a pounding heart, put himself on the saddle-less beast. “What do I hold?” The horse had nothing but a lead around his face.

“Hold the sides with your legs—gee haw!” Mrs. Ramshaw slapped its hind.

Daniel shouted. “Mrs. Ram—” The dapple-gray flicked its head from side to side and pushed ahead at a trot, down the road Clara had taken.

He bounced helplessly. And quite without a hat.

Not that God required hats while rescuing obstinate damsels in distress.

He squeezed his arms around the horse’s neck as well as he could while still looking ahead, kicking like he’d seen Clara do.

It worked, only the darn horse made a turn into town instead of where he needed to go.

Good thing it connected with the other road. At a good trot, they turned in the right direction. Miss Stanton was a good quarter mile ahead. “Miss Stanton! Stop! I’m coming for you!” Surely, she had come to her senses by now.

To his surprise, she slowed and seemed to wait, Esther stamped backward and turned in a tight circle. Mrs. Ramshaw’s horse slowed to a doable trot, though his teeth chattered within his head. Did she play a game? Would she dart away as soon as he caught up?

He grumbled. Such doings could be seen from windows and gossiped about.

If anyone found out he’d spent a few minutes alone in the presence of this girl, they’d be forced into marriage within a fortnight.

A sacrifice he certainly wouldn’t put up with.

Not again. His reputation—what was left of it—couldn’t survive another strained letter of recommendation.

To where this time? Some misbegotten settlement far from this small but decent town?

He’d already fallen in the eyes of those who’d once esteemed him.

Posh. Chasing blind girls would be added to his list. Women were costly in more ways than one.

A few moments later, he sidled up to Clara. He expected to see a triumphant look on her face. Would she bolt? “Rather bold of you, Miss Stanton.”

Deathly white, she turned at his arrival. Her ungloved hands quivered, even as they gripped the reigns. Her long, dark bonnet-free hair blew about her in the breeze.

No, she wasn’t going to bolt, but might certainly faint if he didn’t get her down.

He slid off the dapple gray with a thud and reached for the reins. “Let go. I’ve got them.” Her trembling increased, but she held fast. He hadn’t expected that.

“Come, now.” He felt like he was dealing with a child.

His youngest brother at five. Still, she would not release them.

“I’ll not be the one to report to your father, I assure you.

” He gently took one of her hands and stroked it.

And then lifted one finger at a time until her hands relaxed and he had Esther’s reins firmly in his grasp.

“Are you unwell?”

She shook her head. Her complexion remained pale, gaining a pinched scowl. She slid off her horse without help. Certainly she’d done the same a thousand times before.

“When your father returns, I’ll see if I can change this horse for another.” He stopped talking. Probably wasn’t the time to discuss it.

She only nodded.

“Fine. I’ll lead the horses on the right and guide you home on my left.

” He rested her small hand again in the crook of his arm.

Lord, if you would, if there be spying eyes, make sure they don’t become babbling mouths .

Please. Oh the gossip that could boil up if—he gritted his teeth.

He’d been a gentleman, and no more than that. Since when was he prone to worry?

They made their way down the dusty road. Miss Stanton’s expression didn’t improve. Perhaps her brain had been addled by the ride. Poor girl.

After some time, she began to limp. She made no mention of it. Why wouldn’t she speak up? Embarrassed. That’s what she was.

For several minutes, Daniel stared ahead. Aware of only the monotonous sound of plodding hooves and feet.

When she spoke, her voice was small and rusty. “Everyone else knows what is best for me. I have no say. Not a single request or decision has been honored by anyone since my fall. I’m treated as if my reasoning capabilities are no longer functional, therefore, no longer trusted.”

He had to speak up. “Was it wise for you to throw yourself on that horse?”

“No. You know very well it wasn’t. The point is, I shouldn’t have had to do it. I should have been free to enjoy a ride. I’m willing to accept help.”

Her hand continued to tremble.

“I’m like a caged animal. Visited by curious town folk when they are bored and out of good stories to spread on their toast at tea time.”

“I’m afraid exhibitions like that will give them plenty to talk about.”

“Exhibition? I’ve always been told I had perfect posture on the back of my horse. I think it was you and Mrs. Ramshaw who made a scene by acting as if I’d launched a tiger instead of a horse.”

The girl was blinder than he thought. “We feared for your safety.”

He kept pace, even while she limped. He waited for her to say something, turned onto a shortcut down Morgan Row.

The town houses reminded him of differing parts of old New York.

One section had risen to heights, the other grew at a slow but gentle pace.

Though not at all like home, he enjoyed life here.

Had more time to think and ponder. The rolling hills, the endless sky.

..He wished he could take her riding. How lovely that would be.

A party of friends on the backs of horses—come spring. If permission could possibly be had.

“Did you enjoy your ride, Miss Stanton?”

“No.”

“What a waste. Why not?”

She spoke through closed teeth. “I could not see where I was going.” He could almost hear her thinking, You fool.

Still, she limped. He would not make her suffer any longer. “You hurt your ankle.”

She nodded. “In the stirrup...”

“Let’s get you back on Lass—Esther. I’ll lead you home.

” As Daniel assisted her mount, he couldn’t help but think of what she had said.

No one trusted her to make decisions...like a caged animal she was.

..Sweet Jesus, the girl had been frightened out of her mind.

What torments she must suffer feeling her way in the darkness.

Through his few years of service in the great church of Archibald Methodist Episcopal, he had never seen anyone so wounded.

A few hundred had been in his acquaintance. Many sick and dying had rested in Heaven’s assurance. Others had dutifully come to church, lent their ears to exhortation and went their own way.

Her wounds came from the depths of her soul oozing for anyone to see, if they wished to look. He looked. Hurt his eyes to see it. What, Lord, am I to do with this ?

“Reverend Merrick? I am mortified.” Her voice broke. She covered her face with a handkerchief.

“I’m sorry, Miss Stanton. I would take your suffering from you if I could.” But what could he really do for but care and pray? Until she gave her wounds to the One wounded for her, nothing. It wasn’t in his power.

REVEREND MERRICK’S gentle words broke her heart.

He would remove her suffering? Didn’t he believe that this punishment would do her good?

Illuminate her need for God? Clara withstood Mrs. Ramshaw’s storm on their return.

She’d been given more than one ultimatum.

And in front of the Reverend. He had not been able to take his leave as Clara was still astride.

Her humiliation felt so complete, she had no reply.

No cake or sweets was a child’s punishment. She was no child. Ridiculous.

To her surprise, Revered Merrick came to her defense. “Give the woman the benefit of the doubt, Ramshaw.”

“There’s nothing to doubt, Reverend. She obviously can’t follow rules.”

“What are you going to do about it, spank her? I think she’s too old for that.”

Clara felt heat rise up her neck to her face.

“I won’t do it again, Mrs. Ramshaw, Reverend Merrick.

I apologize for putting you through unmerited stress.

” She forced the words from her mouth. Someday.

Someday soon, she’d get on a horse and simply ride away.

If only she were brave enough to do it now.

Where would she go? She brought a hand to Esther’s neck still stunned that her horse yet lived.

It wasn’t your fault. It was...Christian rounded his horse around hers far too close to the fence. Then pitch darkness...

Was Reverend Merrick laughing? “If it wasn’t for you, I’d never have ridden bareback. You’ve brought adventure to my day to say the least.”

Clara heard snickering from the doorway. Jenny and Morrie had witnessed her stupidity too. Wait...they weren’t talking about her.

“I nevah seen a man as scared as you, Reverend. You hangin’ onta that pony like he was gonna ride you to the moon.” Jenny laughed.“I ain’t nevah gonna foget dat sight. ”

Mrs. Ramshaw cleared her throat. “I should have gone after her myself.”

“You huggin’ dat pony’s neck like a chile!”

His laughter mingled with hers, and even a giggle escaped Mrs. Ramshaw’s lips. “You need riding lessons, Reverend.” Desperately.

Clara felt his hands on hers to help her down. When she landed, his arms came beneath her.

“She’s sprained her ankle.” He swept her inside and set her upon the couch. She couldn’t help it. A grin tugged at her lips. “Is it true? You were scared? You don’t know how to ride?”

“I get around.” Defensiveness laced his voice.

For the first time in months, she allowed laughter to bubble out.

She turned her face toward his voice. “Take care of Esther. Please.”

He promised he would.