The next morning, Micah bargained that I could stay with him at the stable for an hour or two as long as I didn’t bother him or frighten the horses. I promised I would be quiet.
The stables were not what I’d expected, however. The smell of manure made me wrinkle my nose even before we’d reached the place, and drunken cursing was coming from the opposite row of stalls.
“Stay where I can see you,” Micah said as he walked off toward the supply closet. I nodded, watching with interest as he filled the horses’ food carriers, than cleaned out the dirty hay and replaced it fresh. He looked half-embarrassed as he plowed through the dull work, but I was amazed. Maybe if Micah taught me about the horses, I could have my own job at the stables as well! Our savings would double; I could buy new gowns and cooked food, fancy soaps and clean water to bathe in! I thought about this, excited. But the drunken swears were getting louder, and I turned my head to see the rest of the caretakers approaching. They walked with an odd sort of swagger, and their slurred speech made me feel suddenly cautious. But I lost my attention quickly, because I saw that the most magnificent white horse was tethered on a rope behind them, lead by the eldest of the group.
“Hey there, Michael,” called a fair-skinned boy. The white horse suddenly gave a startling whinny, then reared on its legs.
Before I could blink, the boy had pulled out a whip from his side and slashed it at the animal, cursing again until it settled back on all four legs. I stared at the cuts on the horse’s side - one of them had a trickle of blood pouring from the gash - and my eyes burned. I knew Micah had warned me not to bother his work, so I balled my hands into fists and turned the other way, biting my tongue. I wanted so badly to wretch the whip from his hands, to do something. This was so wrong.
“Michael, you didn’t tell me you had a woman,” the second man guffawed as he noticed me at the end of the stalls. “Kind of dirty, though, ain’t she? You been makin’ her work, too? Wuchoo’ do to her, Michael, burry her in the hay?”
They all howled with laughter, and I felt my ears turn red with indignity. I couldn’t stop myself this time.
“How could you?” I shouted. “How could you hurt that innocent thing? And how dare you speak to me that way!”
The laughter dried. “You better watch yourself, darlin’, talking to a man that way,” said a fair-skinned man, buffing his chest. “Don’t want trouble, do ya?”
I opened my mouth, but Micah stepped in front of me.
“Please excuse her crude manners, sir,” he said elegantly. “She’s in need of a good wash and a hot meal.”
“Eh?” the older one said, stroking his chin as he eyed my thoughtfully. “She ain’t yours, then? Could be nice-lookin’, if we got fixed her up a bit.”
“Yes, sir,” Micah cut in before I could get more upset. “You don’t know where she could…ah…clean up at, do you?”
“Got a wash bin here, myself,” he started. “Send her out for water, and toss in an extra hour’s work, and I’ll see what I can do about her supper. Mighty thin girl, ain’t she?”
The lump in my throat vanished at the mention of a bath and a meal. I stared at Micah with pleading eyes, and he nodded.
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
He guffawed again, swaying slightly where he stood. “Yep, send her over in round an hour, I’ll have Matilda cook her somethin’ nice.” He winked at me, and I held back a shudder.
Micah bowed his head in thanks, and after a sharp jab in the side, I obliged with a quick curtsey. Once the group had swaggered out of sight, Micah turned to glower at me.
“How could you lose your temper in front of my boss like that, Azalea?” he snapped. “You have to mind your manners! It’s not in your power to judge how Mr. Lark runs his stable, so next time just stay quiet like you promised!”
I’d never seen him this way; his eyebrows were furrowed, and anger was etched into every feature. Sure, he had been irritated and upset before, but now there was a certain flame in his eyes that had never been before.
“I’m sorry,” I gasped, backing away. It was unsettling to see this new side of him, to know that the same person who had saved my life and taken care of me was now glaring at me from a harsh mask.
Micah’s anger slowly dissolved at the hurt look on my face, and he sighed.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he murmured.
“I’m not frightened,” I said quickly. But he uneven tone of my voice gave me away. “I just wish…that sometimes…you wouldn’t be so angry.”
“Angry?” Micah repeated in a confused tone. “I’m not necessarily angry with you, Azalea, but more with the things you do. How you are.” He loaded the wheelbarrow with more horse feed, then gently patted a spotted pinto on the back before he moved on to the next horse.
“What do you mean?” I asked, hastily wiping at my dewy eyes.
“Well,” he started, then hesitated. “It’s impossible to live with you and protect you the way I do, and all the while having you be so…innocent. Just now, you risked my job and all of our money for the liberty of one animal, and yet I’ve hunted and killed so many things.” His voice became very hushed on the word “killed,” and I pretended not to notice.
“Why does that upset you? Would you rather me be a killer, too?”
“No!” he shouted. “That’s not what I meant. But sometimes, if I really think hard about it…well, it’s easy to see how you could be…what the others thought you were.”
I gasped aloud as that thought sank in. I’d banished that theory long ago - surely it wasn’t possible. No matter what Micah said.
“I’m not,” I said, almost defensively. “You know that…don’t you?”
He froze, and the horse he’d been tending to managed to sneak an extra mouthful of feed from the wheelbarrow before he could respond. “No, of course not.” He tried to sound indifferent, but I could hear the obvious curiosity behind his reassurance. “Why, do you think you…?”
“No!” I cried aloud. “Never.”
He looked started, but quickly took in my upset appearance. “It’s okay, Azalea,” he soothed me gently. “Nobody is going to hurt you now. We both know what the truth is, and that’s what matters. Nothing they said will ever make a difference.” I so badly wanted to believe the sincere honesty and warmth behind Micah’s words, but the truth remained was that we would never know what the truth was.
“I’m bored,” I complained one afternoon as Micah prepared to leave for work. He refused to take me to the stables anymore, not since my last episode. But at least I had gotten my bath, plus trout skins and assorted vegetables for supper that evening.
Micah ran his fingers through his hair, exasperated. “Well, find something to do.”
“Like what?” I demanded. “You don’t even let me out in the public anymore. I’m not a dog, Micah.”
“It’s for your own good,” he said, splashing water on his face from the stream nearby. “Someone right recognize you, and I will not risk any kind of danger. Not now.”
“Don’t you think someone would have recognized me already?” I piped up. “I deserve some fresh air; you can’t keep me locked up all day like this.”
He dried his face on his shirt, blinking his eyes open, and I realized how very red they were.
“Why don’t you take the day off?” I suggested casually. “You look tired.”
“I am tired,” he growled. “And it would be a lot of help if you’d stop trying my patience, Azalea. No, my answer is no.”
I took a deep breath. Calm, stay calm. “Why don’t you let me go to work instead? You can catch up on your sleep, and I’ll go to the stable.”
He chuckled. “A lady, going off to work? I don’t think so.”
“Why not?” I wheedled, and he looked confused for a minute.
“Because…well, because that’s not how it works.”
I sighed. “At least let me do the shopping.”
He rubbed his eyes again, and I could tell I’d reached a breaking point. “Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll walk you to the market along the way, but only if you keep your mouth shut.”
I rolled my eyes, but remained silent to show that I would be obedient.
It only took four or five minutes for us to reach the market, and Micah handed me the bills while I picked out fresh fruit and home-made bread. It would be nice if we had our own house, so I could do the cleaning and cook dinners like the rest of the women. At least they didn’t have to be hidden behind bushes all day.
“Come on, hurry up, I’m going to be late,” Micah hissed in my ear as I paid for a bag of oranges.
“Oh, go on by yourself. I’ll walk back afterwards.” I held out two apples at arms-length, examining the minor bruises.
“You know I can’t let you do that.”
“Micah, please. I can take care of myself.” I moved along the row of vendors, pausing to look at a display of jewelry. I thought about the necklace Micah had hidden away in one of his coat pockets, and smiled. He hadn’t gotten around to selling it yet, and though he wouldn’t admit it, I knew that he was only going to trade it as a last resort. I didn’t blame him, either - it was just too beautiful to get rid of.
When I turned around, I was surprised to see Micah biting his lip in debate.
“I’ll be fine,” I coaxed him gently. “I’ll only need another five or ten minutes, and I promise I’ll go straight back.”
He wrung his hands in frustration. “Fine! But you are to go straight back, Azalea, and I mean it. No wandering.”
“No wandering,” I repeated easily. “Okay.”
He glanced at me for a minute, then handed over another bundle of money. “And get a haircut,” he added. “Your hair is ridiculously long. People are starting to stare.”
“I like long hair,” I sniffed, but at the furious look on Micah’s face I obliged quickly. “A little trim couldn’t hurt, though.”
“Take care of yourself. If you need anything, go to the stables. If someone looks like they recognize you, run, and keep your head ducked.”
“Okay, okay. You’re going to be late for work.” When I glanced up from the selection of apples, he was already darting off down the street.
Without Micah by my side, a new feeling had taken over. Freedom, but mixed with uncertainty. I didn’t like the fact that I was all alone; I moved quickly and tilted my head downward to shield my gaze.
After the shopping was finished, I had to ask around to find where I could get a haircut. A small, pudgy man did the honors of chopping off my waist-length auburn locks, until they barely reached below my shoulders. I felt like crying at the sight of my beautiful hair on the floor, but I reluctantly handed over the money and hurried back onto the street. Micah was right - the ladies in this town did have much shorter hair than most places - so now I blended right in. Well, with the exception of my gown, which was ripped below my knees and had several tears and holes all over it. I’d spent hours scrubbing out the stains when Mr. Lark had allowed me a bath, and now it had returned to its intended ivory-white color.
I knew that it had been over fifteen minutes already, but I couldn’t bear the thought of returning to the forest. So I strolled through the town, occasionally offering a wave or a smile at friendly passerby. By lunchtime, my stomach was growling, and I realized that I’d forgotten breakfast. Micah must have taken a few of my groceries with him when he went to the stables - I couldn’t imagine how hungry he would be right now, after all that hard work. I lost my train of thought for a moment, staring blankly off at the sky. And then -
“Hello,” said a smooth, pleasant voice from behind me. I jumped, eyes wide, before I whirled around.
The speaker was a handsome, blonde-haired man who looked slightly older than I was. He smiled at my frozen expression, then chuckled.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I’m not scared,” I insisted. “Just surprised. And hello to you, too.”
He chuckled again, reaching down to pick up an apple I’d dropped. “I haven’t seen you in Ashburgh before. Have you arrived recently?” he asked conversationally. And his conversation was making me nervous - I wasn’t sure what the story was.
“Yes, that’s right. We’re new here.” I slipped the apple back into my bag, and kept a quick stride in the opposite direction. He followed me, looking deeply amused.
“Odd gown you have there,” he said, laughing again. My cheeks flushed, but I managed to ignore his sarcastic remark.
“I have to be somewhere.” My tone was cold, suggesting that I was not in a very social mood, but he seemed oblivious.
“Where to, then?”
“I don’t remember asking for an escort.” I glared at him, and he smiled back cheerfully.
“Not very friendly today, are you? Might want to mind your etiquette, folks around here won’t be too pleased with your behavior.”
“Ha, ha,” I snapped, and he suddenly reached out to grab my hand.
“Pardon my asking, but I do believe I’ve seen you before,” he murmured. He pulled me close to his chest, closer than was comfortable, so I shuffled away again.
My heart hammered rapidly in my chest as I took in his words. “You - you know me?” Despite Micah’s warning, I was too curious to be cautious.
“Yes,” he said, surprised as my cold tone suddenly vanished. His hand clenched, and he lifted it to brush against my cheek. I flushed again, trying to put distance between us, but he simply closed it again.
“Gabrielle,” he whispered. A kind of strained sadness passed over his eyes, and I had to turn away, fighting disappointment.
“My name is not Gabrielle,” I said bitterly. “You must have me confused with another lady. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go. Good day.”
“Wait!” he choked, rushing after me, but I’d already sprinted into the cover of trees. I ran blindly for a while, not caring about any sense of direction, but eventually I reached a familiar-looking spruce tree with an oddly-shaped trunk. I curved to the left, following a wide path of pebbles, then breathed in relief when I’d reached our hiding place.
I curled onto my side with bated breath, straining my ears for any signs that I’d been followed. Moments passed, and I finally took the risk of raising my head above the bush to search my surroundings.
No one.
I wiped a sheen of sweat off my forehead as I pictured the blonde stranger in my mind. I was positive we’d never met - but why had I been familiar to him, then? ‘Gabrielle…’
Gabrielle?
I scowled. It was probably his idiotic idea of a joke, trying to be flirtatious. Could I be certain he hadn’t been drinking?
Yes, that must be it. This town must have a worse reputation than we’d thought. Maybe I could convince Micah to move farther east, to the more civilized population. And then, as I looked down at my wrecked gown, I laughed.
We weren’t exactly the most civilized couple, after all.
prev chapter
![[send message]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/mail.png){kind=small}
![[befriend]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/friend.png){kind=small}
Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Read Request
My Library
Flag Writing
