Laurie Kingery - Hill Country Cattleman

“Thank you, Milly,” she murmured now as her sister-in-law placed a plateful of scrambled eggs, bacon and toast in front of her. “I trust you slept well, Edward? You and Nick didn’t stay up talking too late?” she inquired innocently.

“I slept very well,” he said.

Was there suspicion in his eyes? Had he heard that floorboard creak just before she’d reached her room?

She ate her breakfast in silence, listening to the two men talk about politics in England, but just as Edward finished verbally dissecting Disraeli, Violet heard the sound of hoofbeats approaching the house from the direction of the road. She lifted an edge of the curtains back just in time to see Raleigh Masterson dismounting from his blue roan. Violet felt her pulse quicken at the sight of the good-looking cowboy.

He held a rope attached to the halter of another horse, too, a striking black-and-white piebald perhaps a hand shorter than his mount. As she watched, he tied the rope to the hitching post by the house.

Milly glanced out the window, too. “Well, well...if it isn’t your driver from yesterday,” she murmured, eyeing Violet, who strove mightily to look as if the arrival of Masterson held not the least importance.

“Mornin’, everyone,” Raleigh said as he came through the door, but his eyes went directly to Violet.

“Good morning, Mr. Masterson,” she said. “I thought you’d be hard at work already, busting broncos,” she said lightly. “Isn’t that what they call horse breaking here in Texas?”

He grinned. “So you’ve been picking up the Western lingo,” he said. “No, at the moment we’ve no broncs to bust. But you’ll want a horse to ride, and after asking your brother ’bout an hour ago if it was all right—” he nodded at Nick “—I decided to bring over a horse from my own string I thought might be perfect for you while you’re here. Why don’t you come see her and tell me what you think?”

He’d brought the piebald mare for her.

Violet scrambled out of her seat with unladylike haste and fairly flew to the door and threw it open. Then she whirled and looked back at the smiling cowboy.

“You’re not joking with me, are you? Oh, Raleigh, she’s lovely!” Violet cried, forgetting she shouldn’t address him by his first name in front of Edward. She started to run outside, but realized she must not frighten a strange horse by dashing at it and squealing.

The mare looked up from the grass she had been nibbling, faced Violet with calm, kind eyes and nickered, her ears pricked toward her.

Violet approached slowly. “Oh, yes, you are lovely, aren’t you?” she crooned, reaching up a hand to stroke the horse’s velvety nose. The horse snuffled softly, seeming to savor her touch, then stamped her hoof.

“She likes sweets,” Raleigh said, following her outside. The others had come, too, but remained under the sheltered porch. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, then unfolded it to reveal a couple of lumps of sugar.

Violet took them from him and offered them to the mare on her flattened palm. She smiled as the horse lipped the lumps delicately from her hand. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?” she said. She loved the horse’s bold coloring. The mare’s head was all black but for a narrow blaze, and her body was black, too, but with big white irregularly shaped patches scattered over her shoulders and flanks.

She stroked her neck, and the mare responded by arching it proudly.

“Are we friends now? Oh, Raleigh, I like her! What is she called? Where does she come from?”

“Lady. She was one of my string of horses on the trail drive, so I know she’s well-trained and reliable. I’d be right proud for you to borrow her while you’re here, Miss Violet.”

“Lady,” Violet repeated, and the horse bobbed her head as if to agree. “You know your name, don’t you? She looks like an Indian pony,” she said. “I’ve heard they favor piebald horses.”

“Yes, but we Texans use the Spanish term pinto, or paint, not piebald. You can use that saddle, there,” Nick said, pointing to a lady-size stock saddle that straddled the porch railing farther down.

Violet darted a look at Edward. His eyes were narrowed and his mouth a thin tight line.

“Ladies do not ride astride,” he proclaimed indignantly. “It’s not decent. She needs a sidesaddle.”

But Milly had come out behind him, and held out a divided skirt. “Violet can be perfectly respectable in this. It’s mine, but you can use it until I can make you one of your own, Violet.”

“You’re too kind,” Violet said, amazed at her sister-in-law’s generosity. “But I’m afraid I’d be keeping you from riding. That’s your saddle, isn’t it?”

Milly smiled. “I don’t get much chance to ride these days, what with Nicky, here,” she said, nodding at the boy, who was holding on to her skirt. “And keeping house and all. But if I do, I’m just as apt to hop on Ruby, out yonder—” she pointed at a red roan mare in the corral by the barn “—bareback.” She grinned at Edward. “Sorry if I’ve scandalized you, dear brother-in-law. Nick was a little surprised, too, until he saw how much fun it was to ride double, bareback.” She winked at Violet.

Violet couldn’t help grinning back. She saw that Nick was smiling as if at a fond memory, and she became newly aware of how much in love these two still were. It was the kind of love she yearned to experience herself. She and Gerald would have that kind of love someday, she promised herself.

Edward just shook his head and shrugged. “I suppose that would be all right, but don’t plan on bringing these hoydenish Texas ways home with you, Violet.” His lips curved upward, though, as he nodded toward Milly, which softened his words.

“I can’t wait to try her. Might I do that this morning, Raleigh? If I’m not keeping you from things you need to attend to, that is?”

He nodded. “The boss gave me the morning off. There’s nothing that can’t wait. I’ll just take her out to the barn and tack her up while you change your clothes.”

“Oh, no, I want to saddle her,” Violet said. “I don’t wish to cause you more work, and a proper horsewoman prepares her own mount. I merely need you to show me where everything is kept in the stable and make sure I do it correctly the first time, since it’s a new type of saddle to me.” She’d done her own saddling and bridling at Greyshaw once she persuaded the stable boys her brother would never know. She realized that by saying so, she revealed the fact that she had taken over the stableboy’s job at home, but it was too late to retract her statement now. And seeing the approval in Raleigh’s eyes, she didn’t even want to.

“I’ll just be a moment,” she said, taking the skirt from Milly.

Half an hour later, wearing the divided skirt and a floppy-brimmed straw hat Milly had loaned her to protect her complexion, Violet had bridled and saddled Lady herself under Raleigh’s tutelage. She’d found the Western saddle a lot heavier than its English counterpart, and harder to lift gently onto the mare’s back, but Lady stood calmly as she did so. She patiently swished her tail as Raleigh taught Violet how to tighten and secure the girth, then she dropped her head and accepted the bridle with grave dignity.

“Oh, you are a lady, aren’t you? I can see how you got your name,” Violet cooed at her, and Lady again favored her with a friendly look from her deep, dark eyes. Violet was already halfway in love with this horse, and if the mare’s manners when ridden matched her behavior when merely being petted, she’d be a fabulous mount indeed.

“This mare has a soft mouth, Miss Violet,” Raleigh said. “You’ll never need a whip or spurs with this horse, just your knees and heels, and not much of the latter. Western horses usually neck rein, rather than bit rein,” he added, making gestures to show her that she’d hold the reins in one hand instead of two, with the pressure against the neck of the horse, rather than pulling the rein in the direction one wished to go. “That’s because cowboys often have to use the other hand to throw a rope, or shoot a gun,” he added matter-of-factly.