Chapter 10 The Horseman's Magic
Evan looked in on her when she didn’t come to supper. She was peacefully stretched out on the bed and completely relaxed. He quietly pulled the heavy, down comforter out of the closet and spread it over her. For a moment, he paused, studying the gentle curve of her face. Her cheeks were full and round, framing a small, button nose perched above soft lips. A delicate dimple, nestled between her nose and upper lip, lent an irresistible charm to her mouth. Evan resisted her quiet allure, turned away, and returned to his solitary meal.
Morning found her still slumbering when he checked on her again. He had risen before the sun, tended to the horses, and finished his own breakfast. The biscuits he'd baked, still warm beneath a linen towel, sat on the counter near the stove. The rest of the meal was less accommodating to temperature. He tossed the eggs to Lucy and Sam, lingered over a final cup of coffee, and finally, with his hat in hand, stepped out the door.
He knew this way of life wasn't hers, that its ruggedness was a stark contrast to her accustomed ease. He wondered what she made of him, perhaps dismissing him as a simple, unsophisticated man. But there was little use in dwelling on it. She would be gone in a few days, and he had work to do.
Sunlight, a gentle stream, eventually crept across the comforter and touched her face. The warmth stirred her from her deep sleep. She turned, blinking her eyes open to the plain white wall. Her mind began to piece together the events of the past day and night. She knew it was morning. Still dressed, she lay on the bed, a heavy, warm comforter draped over her, his doing, she realized. He was a kind man, she thought, despite his rough, rugged, and somewhat mysterious demeanor. His lifestyle was certainly that of a "hillbilly," yet his actions spoke of a deeper gentleness.
A wave of self-consciousness washed over her. She rose, gathered clean clothes, and sought the solace of the shower. The hot water worked its magic, washing away the lingering exhaustion from her two-day sojourn in this unfamiliar place. She lingered under the spray, with no reason to rush. She was here, for she didn’t know how long, and though disappointed, she resigned herself to making the best of it.
In truth, she found herself enjoying the company of the horses and the unwavering affection of Lucy and Sam. She admitted that Evan had a certain appeal. The novelty of her experiences was exhilarating, yet a constant internal tug-of-war persisted between her ingrained sensibilities and these new realities, a testament to the ingrained nature of being a city girl, even when far from the city's embrace.
Dressed in more of the comfortable attire she'd found in the closet, she slipped on the boots. If she were to navigate the wilderness, she might as well look the part. In the kitchen, a welcome breakfast awaited: biscuits and sausage, complemented by butter and jam. She hadn't eaten since lunch the day before. The simplicity of his cooking, she found, was surprisingly satisfying. After finishing, she decided to seek out the horses.
As she made her way toward the barn, Sam and Lucy greeted her with their characteristic enthusiasm. Their unadulterated adoration brought a genuine smile to her face. She'd never considered herself a "dog person," but these two border collies were winning her over at an astonishing rate. She offered each a moment of affection, a good scratch behind the ears, and one for the belly of Sam, before they bounded ahead, clearly leading the way to Evan.
A low hum of activity drew her attention to the other side of the shed. Curious, she approached and found Evan working in a round corral with a young, spirited horse. Without a word, she leaned her forehead against the wooden fence, observing through a gap in the poles.
Evan stood in the center of the corral, his attention fixed on the horse, which, with its hindquarters pressed against the fence opposite Alexandra, stood defiant. Its feet were planted, its head held high in proud resistance. Evan raised his arms, took a slow step forward, and emitted a soft, hissing sound. The horse reacted instantly, bolting into the air and attempting to flee. Confined by the corral, its escape was thwarted, forcing it to race along the perimeter. Its wild eyes remained locked on Evan. Ears pricked, it listened to the threat in the center. The horse's initial frantic gallop soon settled into a steady pace, completing at least a dozen circuits as Evan mirrored its movements, his gaze unwavering.
Alexandra watched as the horse's pace gradually diminished. When it did, Evan moved to intercept, stepping in front of the animal. He raised his arms again and hissed. The horse veered away, initiating a fast gallop in the opposite direction, while Evan returned to the center. This turn was less violent, and the gallop settled back into that steady rhythm established earlier. Evan continued to hold the horse's attention from the center until its pace slowed once more. Again, he moved forward, raised his arms, and the horse turned, galloping away. This time, the pace was noticeably slower, and within moments, the horse's gallop eased into a trot.
Alexandra watched, captivated, as the horse began to relax. His tongue flicked out, he licked his lips, and a subtle chewing motion indicated a shift in his disposition. Simultaneously, Evan’s posture softened; he turned slightly away, his intense focus on the animal wavering. The horse, sensing this subtle change, halted its restless pacing and turned to face Evan once more. It was then that Evan, mirroring the horse’s earlier movement, averted his gaze towards the ground. The horse took a few deliberate steps, closing the distance, and then, with a gentle nudge of its muzzle, touched Evan softly on the shoulder.
The instant of contact ignited a visible change in Evan. He turned back to the horse, his hands moving to stroke the animal's muzzle as a hushed, tender conversation began. Alexandra felt a surprising sting of emotion, a smile gracing her lips as tears welled in her eyes. A profound and genuine connection had formed between them, dissolving the earlier defiance in the horse. Its eyes, once wild, now held the soft, gentle light, mirroring the placid demeanor of the other horses. Alexandra followed Evan’s movements as he continued to caress the horse’s neck, shoulders, and back, even lifting its hooves to gently stroke its legs. His voice remained a low, even murmur, the exact words lost to the distance, but the tone spoke volumes. He continued his circuit, moving towards the horse's hindquarters and then, to Alexandra’s surprise, walking calmly behind him. She had always considered such proximity to a horse inherently dangerous, yet here was Evan, moving with an ease that belied her ingrained fears.
She observed the horse’s ears, which swiveled to follow Evan’s every move, a clear sign of unwavering attention. Was it complete trust, an unimaginable contrast to the distrust from before?
Alexandra pondered the transformation, finding it nothing short of miraculous. There were no ropes, no restraints; the horse, of its own volition, had granted Evan the freedom to touch it. Wiping a stray tear, she began to question the depth of her own emotional response.
Her preconceived notions, shaped by years of cinematic depictions and romanticized tales of cowboys, painted a starkly different picture: the forceful subjugation of horses with ropes, saddles, and sheer dominance. This portrayal had always struck her as cruel and primitive. What unfolded before her eyes was the beginning of a partnership, a slow dance of understanding that reshaped her perception of Evan entirely. Indeed, this single encounter seemed to cast a new light on everything around her.