Page 9 of Lost with a Scot
“Ye sold it to me first, if ye’ll recall,” Aiden growled.
“And I found a better price. I want it back.” McPherson thrust out the bag of coins that Aiden had given him. Aiden made no move to accept the bag. He kept his hands at his sides, clenched into fists.
“We had a deal, McPherson. I willna take back any money for the beast. The horse is mine. I dinna care how much the butcher gave ye. Ye can sort it out with him.”
McPherson grabbed Aiden’s arm when Aiden made to pass by him to go to the stables. “How dare ye—”
Aiden whirled, his fist connecting with McPherson’s nose. The man hit the ground on his back, crying out in pain as he clutched his bloody nose.
Cold fury rippled beneath his skin, but he kept a rein on it as he’d always done. Aiden had never struck a man who didn’t deserve it, but this bastard certainly deserved it.
“Come here again and it will be more than yer nose I break,” Aiden said. His icy tone sparked fear in the man’s eyes. Aiden walked past him and went into the stables. The scent of hay and horses soothed the furious beast that paced inside Aiden. Abuse of others, especially the weak and helpless, was one of the few things in this world that could arouse his fury. McPherson was lucky, luckier than he knew, to be walking away with only a bloody nose.
“Ye drew his cork!” the stable boy crowed with glee, and Aiden glanced toward the loft, where the boy peered over the ledge at him.
“Aye,” Aiden agreed solemnly.
“Ye shoulda killed him.” The boy climbed down the ladder near him and jumped the last step with the rambunctious energy only children ever possessed.
“No, lad, he’s not worth the blood I’d spill if I did.” Aiden ruffled his hand through the lad’s hair and noticed the boy flinched at his touch and then relaxed. His heart sank as he recognized the signs of a beaten child. He’d once been just like this boy, flinching at every touch, good or bad.
“How are the horses?” Aiden asked.
“Thundir’s good. Bob’s doing much better.”
“Bob?” Aiden asked as the boy kept pace with him. They walked down toward Thundir’s stall.
“Bob’s the one with the bad leg. I think he looks like a Bob, so I named him Bob.”
Aiden smiled. “Bob it is, then. But there’s just one problem.”
The little boy’s eyes widened. “What’s that?”
“Bob’s alass.”
“Oh...” The boy’s smile faded. “Bob’s a lass?”
“Aye, lad, afraid so. Ye dinna ken the difference between a male and female horse?” Aiden studied the little sandy-haired boy. He was thin, likely malnourished, but his eyes were bright with a keen intelligence.
“I guess not. I’ve only been here a week,” the boy admitted.
“Then I’m happy to teach ye all that I ken about horses. Yer first lesson is this: mares like Bob are stronger than ye might expect. They may not be as large as some of the stallions or geldings, but they can run longer and are tougher than ye’d expect. Never underestimate a female, no matter the species.” He couldn’t help but think of Anna as he said this. She’d survived a shipwreck and had nearly drowned but was already recovering. If that wasn’t strength, he didn’t know what was.
“Like the pretty lady ye brought to the inn? The one they’re saying ye found in the sea?” The boy climbed up on a nearby barrel to better look at Thundir while the gelding ate his oats. Thundir poked his head out of the stall, chewing contentedly.
“Aye, she’s very strong, just like Bob,” Aiden agreed sagely. “Let’s go check on her, eh?” He lifted the lad down from the barrel, and they moved to the next stall, where the mare was being kept.
Aiden’s mind returned to the mystery woman lying in his bed. He wondered if anyone else had survived the shipwreck. When he’d found her, she’d been drifting near a broken mast, with ropes lightly wound around her as though at one point she’d been tied to it. She was strong, of that he had no doubt. He only wished he knew who she was so he could better help her.
It was clear she was from the Continent. She had spoken in a language he thought he recognized as Danish, but she’d also spoken English as well as any Englishwoman when he’d asked her if she could. Once he was done checking on the horses, he would pay a call on the doctor and see what he thought of the woman’s memory loss.
Bob was in the stall on the opposite side of Thundir, and the horse eyed Aiden warily as he approached. She lifted her head a little, drawing back, her eyes full of suspicion.
“Easy, lassie. That fat fool is gone. He willna take ye anywhere.” Aiden curled his hand in a loose fist as he extended it toward the mare. Bob took her time and eventually came to him and ate the lump of sugar he had hidden in his curved palm when he turned his hand over to her exploring nose.
“Will ye let me look at yer leg?” he asked.
She huffed and backed up from the door so he could enter the stall.
