Ella and Ash

by K. A. Last

  I clutch my pendant and close my eyes, recalling my mother’s face, and pretending she is with me now. I feel the essence of the willow tree reach out to me and warm my soul.

  “Eleanor,” a voice says.

  I open my eyes, and Ash is standing a few metres away. I scramble to my feet, a hot blush creeping up my neck and into my cheeks.

  “Hi, Ash,” I say.

  “I haven’t seen you all week. Where have you been?” He has his hands in his pockets, like he often does.

  “I just haven’t had the time to get here the past few days. It’s nice to see you.” I smile.

  “Are you looking forward to tomorrow night?”

  My smile widens into a grin. “Yes, I am. That is, if you still want me to come?”

  “Of course.” He pulls his hands from his pockets, and in one of them is a folded piece of parchment. “I thought I should do the formal thing and actually give you an invitation. I’ve been trying to get it to you all week, but I haven’t been able to find out where you live.” He holds the parchment out to me.

  Without offering a reply, I take the invitation from him and unfold it. It’s identical to the one my stepsisters received, only my name is penned in a pretty script at the top.

  “Thank you,” I say. “I’m looking forward to attending.”

  Ash stuffs his hands back into his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels. “Are you busy this afternoon?” He asks. His cheeks redden, and he glances at his feet.

  A smile plays at my lips. “I don’t need to be anywhere in particular.”

  Ash looks up. “In that case, would you like to spend the afternoon with me? We could go to Chethan Manor and ride the horses.”

  “It’s been a while since I’ve ridden a horse.”

  “Then you should have a wonderful time.” He laughs. “I have a carriage waiting at the main gate. Will you join me?”

  “I would love to,” I reply, excitement filling my stomach with butterflies.

  Ash and I walk down the hill together, towards the main part of the cemetery. I follow him as he weaves between the graves, which are far closer here than they are up the back where Mother is. We reach the section where Ash’s family members are buried.

  “Can you take me to see your brother?” I stop at the gate leading into the Chethans’ private cemetery. “I’d like to pay my respects.”

  Ash nods and opens the gate for me, then I follow him past a few old graves to the centre of his family plot, marked by a round mausoleum with thick columns and an intricate iron gate. Through the cut out sections, I can just make out the edges of a marble tomb. Ash unlatches the gate, and the hinges squeal as he opens it. We step inside, greeted by the cool air in the dimly lit chamber.

  “That’s my great, great, great ... great grandfather in the middle.” Ash points to the large marble resting place in the centre. “Some family members are in caskets under the floor.” He looks down at a bronze plaque. “Others are in the nooks.” He gestures towards the evenly spaced alcoves set into the curved wall. Not all of them are occupied, but each has a space at the foot of the casket for a vase to sit.

  I step slowly towards the one that has the freshest flowers, a bouquet of peonies and roses, reaching out to touch the colourful petals lightly with my fingertips. Above the alcove is a plaque that reads, “Torin Chethan, loved beyond measure”.

  “I brought them today,” Ash says. “Mother likes me to bring flowers whenever I visit.”

  “They’re beautiful,” I whisper.

  “The doctor said he died quickly. He didn’t ... suffer.”

  I stay silent, staring at the flowers, and waiting for Ash to continue. I already know that Torin Chethan died from a terrible accident, falling to his death from a balcony at Chethan Manor. It was all my stepsisters could talk about at the time. But I don’t want to interrupt Ash. When my mother passed away, all I wanted was someone to talk to about her. Someone to listen to me.

  I had no one.

  When Ash doesn’t continue, I turn and face him. “You must miss him very much.”

  Ash smiles sadly. “Yes ... and no. It’s a terrible thing to say, but ... I was always second best when he was alive. It’s as if I never really existed until he died. Now he’s gone, I want nothing more than to be in his shadow again.”

  “I can’t pretend to know how you feel,” I say. “But I know how hard it is to lose someone you love.”

  “Your mother ... how did she die?”

  I take a deep breath, and look at my hands, twisting them together. “She was very ill. She died slowly. And I would give anything to have been able to make it less painful for her.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ash says.

  I shake my head, and look up. “Don’t be. I’ve made peace with it.”

  And I have. I’ve come to accept my lot in life, living for the little moments that make it all worthwhile. Like the way Ash is looking at me now, his head tilted, and a gentle smile on his lips.

  “How about that horse ride?” Ash says.

  I nod. “Sounds perfect.”

  I follow Ash back out into the sunshine, and to the carriage waiting at the main gate. Two beautiful white horses stand patiently. The driver nods as we approach.

  Travelling in carriages is not something I’m accustomed to lately. Lady Roche would never allow me to use the ones at Roche Manor. If I go anywhere, I walk. Ash opens the small door, and holds my hand as I step up into the carriage.

  Ash climbs in beside me, and taps on the roof. “Home, please.”

  “Yes, sir,” the driver says, and we pull onto the road.

  I let out a startled cry as one of the carriage wheels hits a ditch.

  “Everything okay?” Ash asks.

  “Yes. I’m fine. Thank you.” I’m not about to admit it’s been a while since I’ve ridden in a carriage, and I’ve forgotten what it feels like.

  Ash reaches over and takes my hand. I let him hold it, but I look out the window, because I don’t want him to see how red my cheeks probably are. His touch is warm, and I have to remind myself that his artefact will make me tell him the truth if he asks me anything while he’s touching me.

  It takes about fifteen minutes to reach the outskirts of the village. The carriage winds through the main street, and I watch people walking about, coming in and out of shops and cafes. Some stop to wave at Ash, and others stare with questioning looks. They’re probably wondering who is travelling with the county’s richest boy.

  I haven’t ventured into the village since before my mother died, and there are so many things to see, I don’t know what to look at first. I wish I was able to come here more often.

  Before I know it, we’ve passed through and are out the other side, surrounded by rolling green hills, and the countryside that is more familiar to me. Chethan Manor is at the opposite end of the county to Roche Manor and the cemetery. I have not been out this way since I was a little girl.

  The carriage rocks as we follow the road. I concentrate on the feeling of Ash’s hand in mine. We pass another carriage, then Ash points out the window at a huge house in the distance, nestled between two hills and surrounded by manicured pastures.

  “Chethan Manor,” I say. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Not as beautiful as you.”

  I glance at Ash then look to our clasped hands, unsure how to reply. He gives my hand a gentle squeeze.

  “Take us to the stables, please,” Ash says to the driver.

  “Yes, sir.” He turns off the main road and heads up a long drive. It takes another five minutes until we pass the huge front entrance to Chethan Manor, continuing along a private road to a stable big enough to house fifty horses. It’s far bigger than the ten-berth stables at Roche Manor.

  When the carriage stops, Ash jumps down and holds the door open, offering me his hand. I’m not accustomed to people doing nice things for me, and his gentlemanly actions warm my heart.

  “My lady.” Ash grips my fingers.

  “Tha
nk you,” I say, allowing him to help me from the carriage.

  Ash leads me into the stables, and the smell of damp hay hits me. A horse neighs. And then another. I smile at the sounds of them talking to each other. It was sad to see Smokey on his own the other day. Animals like company just as much as humans.

  Of the many stalls in the stable, about half of them are occupied. At a quick glance, I count around twenty horses. They are all different and all equally magnificent, but a striking grey mare catches my eye. She brays and tosses her head. Her nostrils flare.

  I walk up to her slowly with my hand out, and she nuzzles my fingers. Her soft lips tickle my skin, making me giggle. She tosses her head again and neighs, before letting me stroke her nose.

  “Hello there,” I say.

  Ash stands beside me. “This is Mariah. And you’re the only person in a long time who has been able to do that.”

  “What do you mean?” I look at him. “Pat her?”

  “Mariah doesn’t usually like being touched. It takes great effort to get a halter on her these days. So she mostly hangs out in the stables.”

  I turn back to the grey mare. “When was she last ridden?”

  Ash is silent for a moment. “Before my brother died. She was his horse.”

  “Oh.” I stare into the horse’s eyes.

  I’m lost for words. There’s nothing I can say that will make Ash feel better about Torin’s death. I didn’t know him. And it’s not my place to pretend that I did.

  I stroke Mariah’s nose again, then run my palm over her cheek and down her neck. She tosses her head and brays, before settling and nudging my shoulder.

  “I bet you would love to go out. Can I ride her?” I turn to Ash.

  He raises his eyebrows. “If you have a death wish. You said you haven’t ridden for a while.”

  “I’m sure I’ll remember how. And she can’t be that bad. She’s perfectly calm at the moment.” I continue to stroke the horse’s neck.

  “She used to be like this all the time.”

  “Then what are you worried about?”

  “Only that you just said it’s been a while since your last ride. And Mariah has been quite skittish.”

  I lean over the stall door, and press my cheek to Mariah’s neck. She dips her head, resting her chin on my shoulder.

  “But ... she seems to like you,” Ash continues. “If you can get a bridle on her with no trouble, I’ll saddle her.”

  “Thank you.” I smile.

  Ash walks along the central corridor of the stables, and stops a few stalls down. There are ropes and leather straps of all kinds hanging from hooks on the wall. He takes down a bridal. I haven’t ridden a horse since before my mother died, but I know enough about the equipment needed. The stables at Roche Manor are one of my favourite places. I really should go and see Gerald more often.

  When Ash returns, he holds the bridal up, letting the reins hang to the floor. “This is the bit.” He points to the metal part. “You need to get it in her mouth, put this top strap over her ears, and buckle it under her chin.”

  I’ve seen Gerald do this a hundred times, and my father a hundred times before that. He used to let me tack the horses when I was younger, but I don’t tell Ash. I take the bridle from him, and hold it in both hands.

  “Are you ready, girl?” I say to Mariah. The horse flares her nostrils. “I’ll take that as a yes.” I move slowly towards her, the bit in my left hand, and the top loop of the bridle in my right. When I lift my arms, she tosses her head again. “Easy, girl. I won’t hurt you.”

  Mariah settles, and I push the bit into her mouth. She bites down on it as I slip the bridle over her ears and fasten the strap.

  “You made that look very easy,” Ash says.

  “All you have to do is talk to them nicely. And I have bridled a horse before.”

  Ash grins. “I’ll grab a saddle. You can go in.” He opens the door at the end of the stall. “Back in a second.”

  Ash walks to where he retrieved the bridle from, and disappears through a doorway. I enter the stall then walk around to Mariah’s head to hold her reins, running my hand along her smooth coat—a beautiful mottled grey. Ash returns, lugging an intricately embossed, brown leather saddle.

  “She seems to be really comfortable having you here,” Ash says. “Just hold her reins while I put this on.” I nod, and he heaves the saddle onto Mariah’s back. She jostles on her feet, but doesn’t otherwise protest. Ash shakes his head. “What is it about you? The last time I did this, she tried to kick me.”

  “I have a way with animals.”

  Ever since I was little, I’ve talked to animals. Birds, mice, horses—I love them all. They listen without judgement. But I can’t tell Ash that, he’ll think I’m crazy.

  “You certainly do.” He reaches under Mariah’s belly and buckles the saddle, pulling tight on the straps. “You can lead her outside if you like.” He holds the stall door open. “I’ll saddle Storm, and be with you in a few minutes.”

  I lead Mariah into the afternoon sunshine to wait for Ash. From the stables I look out over Chethan Manor. The grounds are vast. Far bigger than Roche Manor. The house stands to my right, surrounded by manicured gardens that sprawl from the majestic home.

  I try to picture what the ballroom might be like, but I have nothing other than the ballroom at Roche Manor to go by. I have a feeling the ballroom at Chethan would be far grander, and I’m excited that I will be able to see it firsthand tomorrow night.

  To my left the grounds spread as far as I can see. Rolling hills, and dipping valleys of green. I’m anxious to get going. To have the wind in my hair as Mariah gallops.

  “You’ll be kind to me, won’t you?” I stroke her neck. “You’re such a lovely creature. And I can feel how sad you are. Being outside will be good. For both of us. I haven’t done this in a while. I’m trusting you to take care of me.”

  “I hope she will,” Ash says. “She was such a wonderful ride before Torin ...”

  I look around Mariah to Ash who is standing with a black stallion.

  “Storm is the perfect name for him,” I say, to take his mind off his brother. “He’s magnificent.”

  “He’s a loyal steed. Would you like help getting on?” Ash points to Mariah.

  I glance at the stirrups. Mariah is a decent sized horse, but I should be able to pull myself up. “I’m not sure.”

  “Hold the reins, and grab the saddle. Then right foot in the stirrup. Left leg over.”

  “I remember,” I say, giggling.

  But I fail my first attempt.

  I try again, laughing harder when Mariah takes a couple of steps forward, and I almost fall over. “She is quite tall.”

  “Let me help.” Ash puts his hands on my waist from behind. “Pull on the saddle, then leg up.”

  The warmth of his touch seeps through my thin cotton top. I glance at him over my shoulder, and his face is close enough I could kiss him. For a moment, I’m frozen, hoping he will do just that.

  Kiss me.

  Then he’s lifting me, and I’m in the saddle, looking down at his handsome face.

  “Are you positive you’ll be okay?” Ash stares up at me.

  I grasp the reins in my left hand and lean forward, rubbing Mariah’s neck with my right. “I’m sure.”

  “Okay, then.” Ash mounts Storm. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”

  He jabs Storm in the sides with his heels, and the stallion takes off. Mariah follows without any guidance from me, and I cry out in surprise.

  “Look after me, girl.” I twist my fingers into Mariah’s mane, and press my knees inward.

  Within minutes we’re at a full gallop, the two horses flying over the hillside. Mariah follows Storm, and I hang on as tight as I can. Mariah and I fall into a rhythm. It feels great to be on a horse again, but then she missteps and I jerk in the saddle. Fear rises into my chest. I don’t want to fall off.

  Ash and Storm come to a stop up ahead. I pull back on Mariah�
�s reins. She tosses her head, finally coming to a jerky halt a few lengths past Ash. My heart races as I take short breaths, trying to calm myself.

  Ash laughs. “Too much?”

  “Fast,” I say. “They can certainly run.”

  “How about we walk for a while instead? We can go down to the river.”

  “Sounds nice.”

  Ash manoeuvres Storm until the stallion is beside Mariah. They nuzzle each other, and my heart fills with warmth.

  Then Storm brays loudly and rears up, his front hooves scrambling in the air. Ash fumbles with the reins, his eyes wide. Mariah shies away. Ash hits the ground. Storm bolts as Ash rolls and gets to his feet.

  “What happened?” I ask.

  Ash brushes himself off. “I have no idea. But something spooked him.”

  “Look out,” I yell, pointing at the grass. “Snake!”

  The tall blades sway a couple of metres from Ash’s feet. He stands still, his knees bent and his hands away from his sides, ready to run. The snake rears up and hisses.

  Ash will never be able to move fast enough.

  “Don’t,” I say. “If you run, it will strike.”

  Mariah neighs, and the snake turns its attention to the horse. She stamps her hoof, and tosses her head so roughly I lose my grip on her reins.

  “Pull back,” Ash says. “Pull the reins and she’ll walk backwards.”

  I fumble for them, but the snake is moving towards Ash. It rises higher.

  Then it strikes.

  “No!” I lean forward and stretch out my hand.

  My pendant sways, and the stone glows. Blue light streams from my fingertips, forming a barrier between Ash and the snake. The reptile hits it and falls to the grass, slithering away. Ash steps backwards and trips, landing on his back in the grass.

  He stares up at me from the ground. “Thank you.”

  I smile, but it falls away when I look at Storm. The beautiful black stallion is writhing on the ground, frothing at the mouth.

  “You can thank me when we save your horse.”

  Ash follows my line of sight. Then he’s up on Mariah’s back, sitting behind me, in one smooth motion. He reaches around me and takes the reins. Mariah jolts forward towards Storm.