Come, Josephine

Chapter 39

   1928
   The horse rolled over, stumbling to its feet. It was a large beast, tall and strong, like the ones Jack used on the farm. It was a beauty, but a bold one. Unlike most other farm horses, it was sharp, wild eyed, and moved with surprising speed.
   As the horse stood, the rider wiggled about under him. Hands clasped as his stomach, the rider squirmed about uncomfortably, as if convulsing in pain.
   My stomach burned as I watched him. What had I done? The horse had rolled over him, no doubt crushing his ribs. I could hear the sharp crack of his ribs or the crunch of cartilage squeezing past bone, pinching flesh.  What if I had killed him?
   "Easy, girl," I kept my voice low, edging nearer the horse. If I could only grab it's reins- I raised my hand, slowly, steadily, "whoa, steady on."
   The horse met my eyes with surprising awareness. She glanced at my soul, saw what it could not abide by, and flipped her head. She went to go up again, her hooves clattering on the road. I raised my hands once more, repeating my feeble words like a lullaby or a chant. The horses hooves hardly miss the man on the floor, one missing his head by inches.
   As the horse rose up fully, I launched forward and grasped the reins. She came down, a little heavily, and tried to pull away. Again, she narrowly missed the man. I spun her away, pulling her towards myself.
   I struggled to hold onto the horse, but led her to the grass verge in the hope that the grass would calm her. It did little, and she refused to so much as glance at the grass. She kept all eyes on me, and I resorted to tying her to the fence. When I retreated, she put her head down and began eating.
   I returned to the man on the floor, and crouched down by his convulsing form. I leaned over, a little afraid.
   "Are you alright?" I asked, my voice moving, "I'm so sorry..."
  "You should be," he hissed. His eyes met mine, and I saw nothing but pure hatred.
   "It's your fault really," I retorted, "riding down the road like that! You were moving so fast I didn't have time to move- and taking up the whole of the road!"
   He looked at me, hard, and then tipped his head back and laughed.
  His laugh was hearty and deep, and of the most genuine kind. He laughed and laughed until he hit a particularly loud chuckle, and gasped.
   "You've definitely killed me," he said, not completely serious, "I've probably broken every bone in my body."
   "Well, your jaw is completely fine," I said, trying to hide my smile, "here, I'll help you up."
He took my hand and stumbled to his feet with less grace than his horse. His face contorted, and I could see the pain in his eyes, but we both knew he was lucky to be able to stand after such a fall.
   He was only a little taller than me, perhaps by a few inches, and his tawny head was hardly higher than mine. He was handsome too, even when pulling that face, and he had the most brilliant green eyes. A face, young but weathered from the sun, and permanently stained with dust.
   "I'm usually a better rider than that," he joked, "but you caught me by surprise."
   I didn't respond. I felt a little awkward in my role of the culprit. I had seriously hurt someone, purely because I had been absorbed in my own silly life and my longing for Nick. How could I be so oblivious? I was ridiculous.
   "You alright?"
   "I should be asking you that- my grandmother's place is just over there. She's incapacitated but I'm sure my mother and father would be happy to let you rest for a while if you can't ride home straight away."
   "Lucky for you," he said, "I live just over there, look," he pointed over the stone wall to a small cottage and a row of stables. It was homely, well kept, and brightened by wild flowers that spread across the lawn and up the side of the buildings.
   "I run a stable yard," he said, "with my pa, but out of town for a few days. I was just taking Duchess for some exercise when we, um, bumped into you."
   "Oh," I said, "is she your's?"
   "Unfortunately," he grinned, "we ought to be heading off. Once I get her settled I suppose I'll call for the doctor."
   "Are you sure you don't want my help? I can unsaddle her."
   "I don't trust her with a pretty girl like you," he winked, and turned and left.
   I stood in his wake for a moment, a little shell-shocked, before I remembered that I hadn't asked for his name.