The Spinster (Emerson Pass Historicals 2)

“Not on Oz or Willie,” Josephine said. “They’re well-trained and know what to do. You really only need those for horses that are slow. Anyway, the whip doesn’t hurt them. Not the way we use it, anyway.”

On the road, we traveled in the icy ruts made by other sleighs. The horses snorted and increased their pace. “Do you see how much they love it?” Josephine asked. “Harley trained them himself just for this purpose.” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Are you ready to take over?”

“Not really.” From this angle, the horses’ back ends seemed massive. What if I lost control and we all tumbled off a cliff? “One thing. What happens when I want them to stop?”

“Tug lightly on both lines. They’ll know what that means. Even if I weren’t here with you, you would be fine. They know all the routes anyway, so they’re practically driving us.”

I took the reins, one in each hand. The power of these magnificent creatures traveled into my hands. Oz and Willie continued at a trot. “Are we going too slow?”

“No, this is fine. We’re enjoying the day.”

“It’s a beautiful day.” Josephine was by my side. The bells hooked to the horses’ necks tinkled merrily. We stayed within the icy grooves, sliding along easily. The snow fell in lazy drifting flakes as if compelled by the slow, steady rhythm of the bells and stomping of the horses’ hooves to meander along rather than rush. The snow-covered bare branches of the aspens that lined the road seemed spun from sugar. Their spindly trunks of white peppered with gray stood straight and tall. A lacy cloth of fresh snow covered the firs and pines.

“You’re doing well,” Josephine said.

“This isn’t as hard as I thought,” I said. “I can feel the power of their muscles, yet they’re restrained. As if serving us is their only mission.”

“They’re gentle souls who love us. That’s what you’re feeling.” Josephine let out a sigh and raised her face to the sky. “We can travel along the river. Just turn at the fork in the road up ahead.”

I was surprised by this, having no sense of where we were. Out here, the snow and mountains were vast, giving me little to anchor to as far as direction. In the city, everything was marked with street signs. On the Western Front, we’d simply followed orders en masse.

I yanked gently on the reins, and the horses turned left into fresh snow.

“This is a meadow during the warm seasons,” Josephine said. “Wait until you see the wildflowers in spring. They’re my favorite sight in all the world.”

We traveled across the meadow until we reached the river.

“We can start to follow the river here, which will take us to their farm,” Josephine said.

The river was not frozen over like the pond. Instead, batches of snow and ice were scattered over the surface in a patchwork design. Rich brown winter cattails sprang up in clumps along the bank.

“Balm for my soul,” I said. “All this.”

“Yes. For me too. I’m glad you feel the same.”

“It’s enough to take away all the images from the war I carry with me.”

She reached over and brushed her knuckles against my cheek. Even through her gloves, the warmth of her skin penetrated mine. “I wish you didn’t need a balm. I’d take every one away if I could.”

A lump fo

rmed in the back of my throat. I took her hand to my mouth and gave it a light kiss before letting it fall back to her lap. “If I could look at your face every day for the rest of my life, that would be enough.”

A smile lifted the corner of her pretty mouth. “You might just have the power to make me forget what a fool I was to fall for such lines.”

“In this case, it’s not a line.” I glanced over at her.

“I’m beginning to believe that you’re truly as good as you seem to be.”

“I’m a good man,” I said. “But that doesn’t mean I’m worthy of you. I can’t give you what your father’s been able to provide. Not yet anyway.”

“Would you believe me if I said I have every faith in you?”

For the second time in as many minutes, my throat ached. A buzzing started between my ears like the happy hum of honeybees. “You make me believe it, too.”

In the distance I spotted the stark white farmhouse. It looked lonely and too small here in the vastness of the meadow and the white mountains on either side of us. A plume of smoke was the only evidence of living people.

“I’m excited for them to see what you made.” She practically knocked me out of the sleigh with her radiant smile. My heart surged with love. What would I do if she ever turned me away? I’d fallen into the well that was Josephine, and I might drown if she didn’t return my feelings.