by Jasmine Walt
7
Mina
This is silly, I thought as I smoothed my skirt with my left hand for the thousandth time. In my right, I gripped the reins of my single-horse cart, and I tugged left on them, urging my mare Fria onto the dirt road that led to Fenris’s home. There was no need for you to dress up. You are going to be looking at horses, not out on a date!
“Dress up” might have been overstating it a bit. I’d pulled a faded red-and-white checkered dress from my closet and had taken care with my hair, brushing it out before twisting it into a bun atop my head. I’d debated putting on a bit of makeup but decided I’d already gone far enough. At least I’d put on sensible shoes—a pair of sturdy leather boots that would protect my feet while I was examining the mare. Luckily, she wasn’t close to dropping her foal, or I would have had to take my ugly coveralls.
It would have been far more sensible to dress in my usual blouse and jeans, but showing up to my new neighbor’s house so plain, when I’d looked almost fancy the last time I’d seen him, rankled me for some reason. I could tell from the look in his eyes that he’d found me attractive, and I wasn’t quite willing to ruin that impression just yet.
Even if we were just going to be friends.
I pulled Fria to a stop outside Fenris’s house and made to get out. But before I could so much as put down the reins, the front door opened and Fenris stepped onto the porch. I blinked at the sight of him in an understated black tunic—quite different from the outfit he’d worn at the party. No one around here wore tunics—they were old-fashioned, even in a small town like this.
“Good morning,” he said, giving me a smile that sent tingles along my skin. He took a step toward the cart, and Fria snorted and stamped her foot in response.
“There now.” I hopped down from the cart, very thankful for my boots when they instantly sank two inches into the mud. It had rained hard last night. “Calm down, Fria,” I said, moving around to the front of the cart to stroke her velvety nose. “Fenris is a friend.”
“Her hesitation is only to be expected,” Fenris said, a sigh in his voice. He approached slowly, and Fria snorted again. “As I was explaining yesterday, most horses do not take kindly to a wolf shifter in their midst.”
“Well, Fria doesn’t yet know how perfect a gentleman you are,” I said lightly, still stroking her soft nose. With each touch, I pressed a little bit more magic into her—a soothing spell I often used to quiet agitated animals when my presence alone wasn’t enough. I didn’t dare speak the Loranian spell aloud, but chanting it in my head seemed to be enough. The mare quieted, nuzzling my palm.
“There.” I turned my head, and my heart jumped—Fenris was standing right beside me. His eyes were narrowed on the hand I still had pressed against Fria’s nose. “Is everything all right?”
“Hmm?” He blinked. “I’m just surprised she quieted so easily.”
“I have a deft touch with animals,” I said mechanically—my canned response whenever somebody brought this up. Which was true enough, but it sometimes took a little magic to get the beasts to do what I wanted. Breaking eye contact, I moved toward the cart. “Let’s be on our way, shall we?”
Fenris nodded, and if he was still suspicious of my actions, he didn’t say anything more about it. My palms were clammy as I gripped the reins. I had to force myself to take slow, calming breaths as I guided Fria back down the dirt road.
He doesn’t know you used magic, I told myself firmly. He can’t. He’s just a shifter, and he wouldn’t know of such things anyway.
But he wasn’t just a shifter, was he? He was also an educated man with quite a bit of money at his disposal. A true puzzle, this Jalen Fenris Shelton, and one I was itching to figure out. It was hypocritical of me to want to pry at him for his secrets while guarding my own so closely. But I’d never met someone like him before, and try as I might, it was impossible to stop wondering about his past.
As we drove, we talked about horses, and I found myself relaxing—this was common ground, and a subject I had a fair bit of experience in. “I do hope you find a suitable animal to buy,” I said as Fria and I navigated around a steep pothole in the road. “With the increased use of steamcars and trucks in the cities, and even here in the countryside, the market for horses is rapidly dwindling.”
Fenris nodded. “Very few people used horses in Barnas,” he said. “If not for the special magical charms installed on all the vehicles, the air would be constantly clogged with foul steam. And the noise…I grew used to it, of course, but the high-pitched whine of steam engines is hard on a shifter’s ears.”
“I can imagine.” So he’s from Barnas. I slanted a look at him out of the corner of my eye. I hadn’t really thought too much about how his heightened senses would affect him—I’d always assumed they were an advantage for shifters, but perhaps that wasn’t always the case. “I’ll tell you what. If you promise to pay fair value for any animal you purchase here in Abbsville, I will throw in six months of veterinary services for free.”
Fenris’s eyebrows rose. “A very generous offer, but I assure you it isn’t necessary. I am happy to pay fair value both for horses and your services.”
I smiled. I didn’t know very many people who would have refused an offer like that—but then again, he was well-off. Perhaps he didn’t feel it was fair to take advantage of me, especially since it must have been obvious I was barely making ends meet, like most Abbsville residents.
“I don’t mind doing a favor occasionally,” I said as the gates of Handmar Farm came into view. “You did help me out the other night when Roor was pestering me.”
Fenris’s expression darkened. “It seems like that wasn’t the first time something like this has happened,” he said. “How long has he been harassing you?”
I shrugged, uncomfortable with this turn of conversation. “He only really noticed me in the last year, when I treated his dog for food poisoning. And this was the first time he’s been that aggressive…normally he presses me into a dance or two, tries for a kiss, and leaves me alone if I refuse him.”
“It doesn’t appear that he’s gotten the hint,” Fenris said, and I was surprised to hear the anger in his voice. “I would suggest you take precautions at home, in case he comes calling.”
My skin went cold at that. I hadn’t considered that Roor might come to harass me at my own home, but after the humiliation from the other night, he might very well try. I would have to do a better job of keeping my door locked, and perhaps find a weapon to defend myself with.
Is this really what my life has come to here in Abbsville? I thought miserably as we drove through the gate. Being forced to fend off brutish men was the exact reason I’d run away from home in the first place.
“There you are, Miss Hollin,” Mr. Handmar cried as he strode out from one of the paddocks. I parked the cart outside the corral, then unhitched Fria. I usually let her loose while I was here so she wouldn’t have to suffer with that bit in her mouth while I was doing business. It was a half-spoon bit, not those horrible things that cut into horses’ mouths, but I didn’t like forcing horses to wear them any longer than necessary.
“Good morning, Mr. Handmar,” I said as the breeder came up to greet us. Fenris rounded the carriage, and I introduced him. “This is Mr. Shelton, our newest resident here in Abbsville.”
“Ah, yes, I’d heard that a shifter had moved into town.” Mr. Handmar eyed Fenris curiously as he held out a hand for him to shake. “What brings you here to my farm?”
“I am looking to purchase a couple of horses, actually,” Fenris said. “Miss Hollin here says that you might have some of even temperament that I can train to get used to me.”
“Hmm.” Mr. Handmar looked doubtful. “Why don’t we get Miss Hollin’s horse settled, and I’ll see what we might have for you?”
Fenris and I exchanged glances as Mr. Handmar took Fria and led her to the corral. Once he’d relieved her of her tack, we headed toward the paddocks.
“On second tho
ught, it might be better if I bring the horses out,” Mr. Handmar said, hesitating. “Don’t want to have you walk in there and spook them all at once.”
“Mina,” two youthful voices cried, and I smiled. We turned around to see Kelton and Hartley, Mr. Handmar’s sons, sprinting from the house toward us. The twins had tanned skin, mops of curly brown hair, and identical smiles that melted the hearts of every woman around. No one could resist them, not even me.
“Hi, boys.” I giggled as they pounced on me at once, wrapping me up tightly in hugs. “What have the two of you been up to?”
“Math.” Kelton screwed his face up in distaste. “Ma says that just because we’re farm boys doesn’t mean that we can’t get a ‘good education.’”
“And she’s quite right,” Mr. Handmar said sternly. “Now have you noticed that we have a new guest?”
The boys instantly released me, spinning around on their heels. “This is Mr. Shelton,” I said as Fenris gazed down at them, a bemused look on his face. “He just moved to Abbsville this week.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Fenris held out his hand, and both boys shook it, wide-eyed.
“Are…are you a shifter?” one of them asked, awe in his voice. “You’ve got those freaky eyes!”
“Kelton,” Mr. Handmar scolded, but Fenris only laughed.
“They are a bit freaky,” he said, “but they help me see better when it’s night.”
“Can you transform?” Kelton asked eagerly, bouncing up and down on the heels of his mud-spattered boots. “Oh please, say yes!”
“Shifters only transform during the full moon—” Mr. Handmar said, but there was a flash of light. Suddenly, a huge wolf with coarse brown fur was standing before us. The twins screamed, scrambling back, but Fenris rolled onto his back, letting his tongue loll out. Submissive behavior, I thought wonderingly, to let the children know they were safe to approach.
“He wants us to rub his belly,” Hartley shrieked, beside himself with delight. The two boys rushed over to Fenris, who began wiggling around in the dirt as the boys petted him. I grinned at the oddly domestic sight—this was a side to Fenris I had certainly not expected to see when I’d brought him here. I didn’t know how much of this was an act for the children, and how much was animal instinct, but I was very happy to see that he was playing along.
“All right,” Mr. Handmar finally said after a few minutes of this. “Time to let Mr. Shelton get back to business.”
“But, Pa,” the boys whined.
“No ‘buts.’ We’ve work to do.”
Grumbling a bit, the boys got to their feet. Mr. Handmar told them to stand by—they were experienced riders and would help demonstrate any horses Fenris was interested in. Fenris got to his feet. After a quick shake, he changed back into human form in a flash of light.
We all stared—we expected him to be covered in mud, but he was immaculate. “What happens to your clothes when you…when you transform?” Mr. Handmar asked.
Fenris shrugged and pulled out a tiny stone from his pocket. It sparkled as he held it up in the sunlight, and my eye was drawn to the layer of shimmering iridescence. “There are charms one can buy in the big cities that help with that sort of thing,” he said, then tucked it back into his pocket. “Now, you said you had a horse to show me?”
As Mr. Handmar went into the stables to fetch some horses, I chewed on my lip, deep in thought. Fenris was certainly nothing like I’d expected. He was well-mannered, educated, good with children, and it seemed he wasn’t averse to using a little magic, when most shifters hated and feared it. What other surprises were wrapped up in the handsome, eclectic package that stood beside me?
“This is Makar,” Mr. Handmar said, leading out a dappled gray gelding. “One of my more easygoing horses, so I’m hoping he takes to you.”
“He’s beautiful,” Fenris murmured, taking a step forward. The gelding tossed his gray mane as Fenris approached, but otherwise did not react when the shifter pressed a hand to his hide. Fenris did a careful inspection, checking the horse’s teeth and hooves and running an experienced hand along their legs.
Finally, he stood back and nodded with satisfaction. “I am interested in this one,” he said.
Mr. Handmar brought out three more horses for Fenris’s inspection, and he selected a dark-colored stallion called Midnight for further inspection. We led his two selections to a paddock near the farmhouse that Mr. Handmar used for demonstrations, and the boys saddled up the two horses to put them through their paces.
“Impressive,” Fenris said as Kelton guided Midnight through the obstacle course set up in the paddock while Hartley rode the gelding. In addition to the hurdles of various heights and forms, there was a sand pit and a small waterhole. “Your boys are excellent riders, Mr. Handmar.”
The breeder beamed. “Been in the saddle from the moment their ma let me take them out of the house,” he said proudly as the stallion made another jump. “Gotta start them young.”
An irritated neigh had us all whipping our heads back to the paddock just in time to see a magpie dive close to the stallion’s face. My heart leapt into my throat as the horse swerved and missed his footing as he came down from the jump. Mr. Handmar gasped in horror as the horse’s leg went sideways with a loud crack, and the animal let out a shrill scream of pain that cut me to the bone.
“Kelton!” Mrs. Handmar screamed, rushing out of the house as her son tumbled from the horse’s back. The boy managed to roll free before the horse crushed him beneath its weight, then lay on his back in the dirt, eyes glassy with shock.
“Damn,” Mr. Handmar swore as he flung open the paddock gate. He and his wife gathered up their son and rushed him out of the paddock toward the house while the horse still lay helpless on the ground. Hartley jumped down from Makar and held the gelding’s reins in his small hands, his face pale. Now that Kelton was safely out of harm’s way, I approached the stricken stallion, dread sitting heavy in my chest.
“His leg is broken,” Fenris said softly as I knelt in the mud.
Yes, it is, I agreed silently as I inspected the leg. A clean break. But I couldn’t say that aloud. “It is not broken,” I lied firmly, waving him away. “The injury is treatable. Please,” I said, dropping my voice. “Please go distract Mr. Handmar and his family while I tend to this. I don’t want them to panic.”
Fenris stared at me. The moment stretched out, and I was worried that he would balk. But he nodded, then went to Hartley, who was standing at the gate with Makar. Tears shimmered in the little boy’s eyes, and I was struck by the urge to comfort him. But my duty was with the horse, who needed my comfort far more than the little boy. Fenris gently put his arm around the boy while taking the reins, and I knew Hartley was in good hands.
Sucking in a breath, I turned back to the stallion, who was trying, futilely, to stand back up, panicked snorts emitting from him. Struggling would only compound the damage, so I used my strongest calming spell to keep him prone. As Fenris directed Hartley to find compresses and liniment, I gently pressed my hands to the horse’s leg. The animal quivered beneath my touch, his eyes rolling with pain and fear.
“Shhh,” I said, then chanted a painkilling spell underneath my breath. If I’d had the time, I would completely numb the leg and induce the horse into a stupor, but I knew it was only a matter of minutes before the Handmars came back, and I couldn’t let them see what I was doing. Gritting my teeth, I grasped both ends of the leg, then set it in one smooth motion. The horse whinnied, but it was not the pain-filled scream he would have made without the spell. Praying to the Creator that Fenris would distract them long enough, I closed my eyes, then pressed my hand on the break and silently intoned the healing spell.
As the magic seeped into the broken bone, pain hit me, and I had to clench my jaw against a whimper. The cost of healing an injury, I had discovered long ago, involved drawing the pain into oneself so that the magic could do its work. My shin began to throb with agony, just as if I had been the one to break it,
and I held back tears. The agony stretched on for several minutes before it began to subside, the magic finally done with the brunt of its work.
A rivulet of sweat ran down my spine, and I could feel perspiration gathering at my brow. Opening my eyes, I ran a hand across my forehead and met the horse’s gaze. His large brown eyes were pain free, and I exhaled in relief. A wave of tiredness hit me—healing such a large injury so quickly had sapped quite a bit of my magic. But it was worth it, if I could save the horse’s life.
“Come on, boy,” I said, getting to my feet. “Let’s see if you can stand.”
As I gently coaxed the horse to his feet, the front door banged open. The Handmars rushed down the stairs. “My word,” Mr. Handmar said, and I turned to see him and his wife heading toward the paddock, their arms full of the supplies Fenris had requested. Fenris and the children were right behind them, and my breath froze in my chest as I met the shifter’s yellow eyes. Was that a knowing look in them? But no, I must have imagined it…
“I was certain Midnight’s leg was broken,” Mr. Handmar said, his eyes wide with astonishment and relief. “How in Recca is he standing again?”
“The injury wasn’t as bad as it looked,” I said casually, patting the horse’s side. “The leg is just bruised, not broken. A little massage and encouragement was all it took. Even so, I’d advise you to have him take it easy for the next couple of days,” I said sternly. “It was a very near thing.”
“I’ll say,” Mrs. Handmar said, beaming.
The boys broke free from Fenris’s side and rushed into the paddock to hug me. “Thank you for saving him, Mina,” Kelton said, his voice teary as he pressed his face into my belly. “I felt so awful when I thought I might have killed him.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” I said gently, brushing my hand against his mop of curls. “Accidents happen to everyone. Even your pa.”
