Page 11 of The Defiant Governess
There was another pause until finally he blurted out, “A horse killed my Mama. And my Papa.”
Jane pulled him closer while making a note to ask Mrs. Fairchild what had happened. “Oh, how terrible, Peter. I’m so sorry. But it must have been a terrible accident—horses don’t mean any harm. They are quite fun, actually. Would you at least walk there with me so I can see them?”
Peter stayed pressed to her chest. “Uncle Edward thinks I’m a very poor-spirited boy not to want to ride,” he said, fighting back tears.
Once again, Jane felt a wave of anger towards the callous guardian who was too insensitive to understand the boy’s natural fear for what it was, and help him overcome it.
“Well, I think your uncle is a complete gudgeon,” she snapped. “Of course you don’t like horses—I wouldn’t either, unless someone took the time to show me they aren’t all bad.”
Peter looked at her in surprise and a bit of awe as she spoke. Then in a small voice he said, “You wouldn’t?”
“No. But I’ll show you some very special tricks for making them your friends, if you like. Maybe you’ll change your mind. What do you think?”
He looked at her doubtfully.
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, and I will certainly not think you poor-spirited. In fact, I would think you very, very brave to even take a look at them.”
He put his small hand in hers. “Very well. If you stay with me.”
The stables werean impressive set of buildings arranged around a central courtyard. To Jane’s experienced eye it was obvious that they were well-tended by someone who knew a thing or two about horses. There wasn’t much activity at that time of the afternoon. A few nickers were heard from the horses inside their stalls and a stableboy could be heard whistling as he swept out the tack room. In an adjoining paddock, one lone horse stood placidly by the fence, twitching at the spring flies with its tail and browsing for bits of hay in the dirt.
Jane was relieved to see it was an old mare, one whose disposition was likely to be as gentle as it appeared. She stopped, already sensing Peter’s fear, and felt in the pocket of her gownfor the apple she had saved from lunch. She took it out, along with a small penknife and carefully cut it into quarters. She kept one out and put the rest back in her pocket.
“I’m going to make friends with this old mare,” she said. “One bite of apple and she’ll look forward to seeing me again! Why don’t you stay here and watch.”
She walked towards the fence holding the apple outstretched in her hand. The mare pricked up her ears at the scent of food and gave a little whoosh of breath as she sidled right up against the rails. When Jane reached her, she eagerly gobbled the treat as Jane stroked the white blaze on her nose and tickled her behind the ears.
“Would you like to give her a piece? Her mouth feels like velvet rubbing against your palm.”
Peter hesitated as he eyed the animal with some trepidation.
“It’s quite alright if you’d rather not. She is rather big, isn’t she. But she’s also very friendly, as you can see.”
The horse was now snuffling Jane’s cheek and she couldn’t help laughing at the tickling sensation.
That seemed to reassure the boy and he took a few tentative steps towards them. “You’ll stay right beside me?”
“Of course I will.”
That settled it. He came right to Jane’s side, shying back a little as the mare poked her nose inquisitively down towards him.
“Hold the apple flat in your hand, like this,” said Jane as she placed a slice in his palm. “Then reach out so she can see it.” She put her hand on his shoulder to encourage him as he slowly lifted his hand. The horse dipped her head and gently took the proffered fruit between her lips.
“Ooooo,” exclaimed Peter, jumping back. “It … tickled!”
“It does, doesn’t it,” Jane answered. “Do you want to try it again?”
Peter took another piece and this time he didn’t flinch when the mare took the treat. He even rubbed the tip of her nose as she chewed contentedly.
“It’s very soft,” he murmured.
“If I lift you up, you could scratch her ears.”
“V-very well.”
Jane gathered him up and held him steady on one of the rails so he could reach the mare’s neck and head. He patted her forehead and ran his fingers through her mane. The mare turned and nuzzled his cheek.
“You see,” laughed Jane. “She likes you!”
