Spring Blossom Read online

  Maggie had changed into her best forest-green riding habit, hoping Hunter would select a mare and want to take her for jaunt. If he wanted to ride, of course, he would need an escort; someone who knew every inch of the plantation; herself, of course.

  Coming up beside him, Maggie placed both feet on the lower fence rail and boosted herself up before turning her head to smile at him on a much more even level. “Hello,” she said. “Have you decided?”

  Hunter smiled before returning his attention to the center paddock. “The roan, I think. She appears to be healthy and strong and she has fine lines and intelligent eyes.”

  “She is not the one,” Maggie whispered.

  Her father was standing to Hunter’s right. “Good choice,” Alastair advised. “One of my finest mares and she has already given me an excellent colt. Tired and true, she is.”

  Maggie had heard her father repeat the same words a hundred times. “Would you like to take her out?” she asked. “You can better judge her temperament once you have ridden her.”

  Hunter knew her game for what is was but he played along. Besides, he enjoyed her company. “Will you join me?” he asked and drew an immediate response; Maggie raced for the stables.

  Alastair watched her run through the open doors and frowned. “That girl is something beyond me,” he said. “Last night she was a perfect lady. Today she is racing around like a hoyden. I’ve never seen her like this.”

  Hunter smiled and turned his back to lean against the wooden rails. “You have four daughters, my friend. You had best prepare yourself, for they seem to be growing up.”

  Alastair straightened away from his post and stared at the young man as if he had gone mad. “They’re babies,” he said, “each and every one of them.”

  “Not Maggie.”

  Alastair was instantly alarmed.

  “Relax, man,” Hunter continued. “I recognize puppy love when I see it.” But in his own mind, he wondered if the man’s alarm stemmed not so much from the shock of realizing his daughter was maturing, as from the knowledge that she appeared to be attracted to a man who was beneath her station and of mixed blood at that. He hadn’t seen Alastair since he was a child himself. With so little background between them, it was difficult to know the bent of the other man’s mind. Still, remembering that his father and Alastair had once been friends, Hunter wanted to give the man the benefit of doubt.

  *

  In the stable, Maggie was rushing about, finding the best and most suitable saddle for Hunter to use, even as she urged the stable boys to set a faster pace.

  When the two mounts were finally ready and led outside, Maggie followed, her heart beating joyfully until she saw the concerned expression on her father’s face. Surely he would not demand an escort for them? She stopped before the two men, looking into her father’s eyes, awaiting some word from him.

  It was Hunter who spoke first. “I’ll take care, Alastair.” He smiled when the older man looked his way. Give the girl her moment, Hunter attempted to express silently. After expressing a drawn-out breath, Alastair nodded his head in agreement.

  Maggie knew she had missed something that had passed between the two men but she also understood that an agreement had been reached. Taking that as confirmation that her father was permitting her to ride out with Hunter, Maggie turned and prepared to mount. Taking up the reins in one hand, she awaited a boost up from one of the boys and was pleasantly surprised when Hunter bent to the task. Taking her small booted foot in one hand, he put the other hand on her waist and boosted her high with ease. Once she was settled, he stepped toward his own mount.

  One of the proudest moments of Maggie’s young life occurred when Hunter turned slightly in the saddle, keeping his mount steady until she could draw up beside him. It was the first time she had actually been allowed to ride out alone with a man – although she had secretly ridden all over the county with one local boy or another – and she knew she had just taken her first step toward womanhood.

  They rode in silence for a time; and Maggie, shocked to find she was suddenly tongue-tied became unsettled. While Hunter was clearly enjoying the silent ride, she began to panic because she could not think of a suitable topic of conversation. “It’s a beautiful day!” she finally said in a rush.

  He turned his head briefly and smiled. “Yes,” he said softly.

  “Is that all you have to say? Yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are there times when you don’t like to talk?” she ventured.

  He nodded his head.

  “Is this one of them?”

  He laughed, startling the mare and having to pull her back to a sedate walk. “Are there not times when you don't wish to talk?” Hunter asked.

  “Not many,” she admitted.

  “All right, little one,” he said softly. “What would you like to talk about?”

  “Well, I have wondered…” She frowned over her hesitation. “You’re not what I expected.”

  Hunter’s smile slipped momentarily but looking into her soft questioning eyes, he decided that there was no malice in her comment. “What did you expect?”

  “I’m not certain,” she said truthfully. “I’ve never known an Indian before and I thought you would be much different.”

  “You expected me to ride in half naked and threaten to take your scalp?”

  Maggie didn’t care for his tone and drew herself up, shoulders back in indignation. “Well, if you cannot tolerate my natural curiosity…”

  He laughed ruefully at his own ineptitude; he had overreacted with a child. Curiosity was healthy as long as it was not malicious. “I apologize, little one.” He reached across the short distance between them to pat her hand to indicate his sincerity. “You may ask whatever you wish.”

  “I simply did not know what to expect, and I suppose you…surprised me,” she returned quietly.

  “Why is that?” He gave her his full attention now, turning in the saddle to face her.

  “I’m not certain,” she admitted, clearly puzzled by her inability to sort the matter out. “You….well, you have gentle ways.”

  He smiled again, patiently. “You don’t know many men who have gentle ways?”

  “Some,” she said after a moment’s thought.

  “And do you not consider an Indian a man?”

  Blushing furiously, she burst out, “Of course!”

  He laughed softly and reached out, this time touching her cheek. “There, little one. You have addressed your own concern.”

  “I feel silly,” she confessed.

  “Don’t, Maggie,” he said firmly. “Not with me.”

  Maggie stared at him, swallowing heavily as her mind raced around the possible meanings of his statement. But he had turned back and was facing straight ahead as he encouraged the mare into a gentle canter. She could not see his eyes, could not guess the true intent of his words, but Maggie hoped he meant she held some special place within him…just as he held a special place within her.

  She did not understand this attraction, this feeling of being drawn toward him, for it was all very new to her; new and unique.

  Urging her mare forward, Maggie caught up and turned the conversation toward something with which she was more comfortable. “I have a new calf,” she said “Would you like to see her when we go back?”

  How could he refuse?

  *

  Maggie had difficulty maintaining her adult calm and reserve as she pictured her new friend’s possible reactions to the clever little calf that was her pride. The Downing girls did not lack for much but Alastair insisted they attend to their studies each day and be responsible for the things he entrusted into their care. And he considered pets an excellent means of teaching responsibility.

  Most girls would have requested a kitten or a pup, but Maggie had insisted she could care for the calf from the moment the creature was old enough to leave its mother’s side. And, secretly, she looked upon the animal as a way to demonstrate her own cleverness. />
  “I’ve spent hours with her,” she boasted now as she led Hunter down the long, dim stable corridor. “And she’s very clever,” she added as he smiled indulgently.

  Maggie stopped at the last box stall in the row and reached up to remove a lead rope from a nail beside the door. She peeked over the top of the closed lower half of the door before allowing it to swing open. “Hello, Boxcar,” she called, entering the dusky stall. “I’ll bring her out,” she called.

  Hunter stepped forward, resting his elbows on top of the gate-like door, knitting his fingers together as he grinned. “What did you call her?”

  Maggie wrapped her arms around the small light-brown and white calf’s neck. “Boxcar,” she said, kissing the calf gently above its left eye.

  He laughed. “Where on earth did you get such a name?”

  “From trains.” She snapped the lead onto the calf’s halter. “You’ll see when I bring her out.”

  Hunter could see them in the dimly lit stall, but Maggie and her calf were not about to make an entrance into the brighter light of the corridor. The heifer had planted her forefeet wide and was bawling miserably as Maggie pulled on the rope, attempting to get the animal to move. “She does walk on lead,” Maggie insisted. “I just have to get her started.”

  He laughed softly, not wanting to dampen the girl’s hopes; that calf was not about to budge.

  Looking around, Hunter spied a wide harness strap hanging from a peg on the wall. When he had it in hand, testing its length, he entered the stall and stepped to the animal’s side as he studied the stubborn creature. “I believe she needs a little nudge,” he said. “Leave the lead draped over her neck and go around her." As Maggie complied, the calf turned her head to stare at Hunter. “Boxcar, you are a stubborn girl,” he said. The calf turned her head back to face the open stall door and quietly chewed her cud.

  Hunter passed one end of the length of harness across Boxcar’s back. “Take this,” he directed his accomplice. “We going to put in around her rump and see if we can nudge her forward.”

  Maggie nodded and did as he directed. When the wide leather strap was in place, Hunter and Maggie stood on opposite sides of the animal’s head. “Hold tight to the strap,” he said and Maggie, understanding his plan, smiled.

  “It’s like putting her in a sling!” she said gaily.

  But Boxcar did not care for this treatment at all. Almost as soon as she felt the pressure on her hind end, the calf bolted forward and out the open door.

  With immediate loss of tension on the strap, Maggie stumbled and Hunter laughed as he, too, had to regain his balance. But he simultaneously managed to reach for Maggie’s upper arm and saved her from going down in the straw.

  They were both laughing now, and Boxcar was free.

  As soon as Maggie realized her pet had bolted far beyond the stall door, she was on the run. “I’ll get her,” she called.

  Hunter smiled as he gathered the harness strap and stepped into the corridor. Maggie was racing out of the stables.

  A moment later he joined her in the noon sunshine, where she was proudly promenading with the calf on a lead.

  She smiled as she walked toward him, leading the now cooperative calf. “I told you she could do it,” she said.

  Hunter laughed, shaking his head at his own ineptitude. “I apologize for setting her free. I confess to being knowledgeable only about horses.”

  Maggie merely smiled up at him; nothing he could do would be wrong in her eyes.

  “So, tell me,” Hunter questioned as he placed his hands in the pockets of his breeches. “Why do you call her Boxcar?”

  The mischievous twinkle in her eyes made him ways but Hunter complied when she said, “Walk around behind her.”

  He stood there, feeling a bit foolish as he stared at the calf’s rump and high, bony hips. He looked at Maggie, who was laughing, and then he looked again at the high, protruding hipbones. Suddenly he understood; the calf was square!

  “See?” Maggie crowed.

  CHAPTER 4

  The days of Hunter’s visit at Treemont flew by until they numbered seven.

  On the eighth day he would be leaving to travel to his own home.

  At dawn of the seventh day, Maggie had stood at the foot of his bed, dressed only in her nightclothes, breathlessly asking that he ride with her.

  Hunter had stared into her earnest blue eyes and wondered if he had miscalculated. Had he overstepped the bounds? The last thing he wanted was to hurt her, but Maggie needed to understand that hers was merely an infatuation. And yet, to tell her so would wound the tender heart that tried so hard to beat like that of a woman.

  Perhaps it was unwise, but he decided to ride with her one last time before he left. Within months she would no doubt forget him.

  He found that thought caused him some dismay. He had stared at the pretty young girl who promised to reflect her mother’s beauty in the years ahead. It would be interesting to see how she turned out, how her youthful spirit matured. In fact, as his dark eyes roamed over the untamed fair hair that flowed over her thin shoulders his thoughts had begun to gel. He had given considerable thought to his frequent encounters with her since his arrival. He had enjoyed her company immensely on each occasion. Her youthful nature was charming, her sense of humor infectious, and her more serious side revealing. Her youth did not negate her sense of responsibility which she had demonstrated on more than one occasion. She was, in fact, the promise of a woman who would one day be exceptional and he had begun to wonder if Alastair would be amenable to his possible return in two or three years.

  Now, as he prepared for the day, he threw off the thought, more concerned with the problems currently surrounding his leave-taking. He had smiled at Maggie, agreeing to her request before she had happily raced out of his room. By the time he had emerged from the house, she was waiting at the stables with the roan mare he had purchased ready to ride, standing beside Maggie’s own little mare.

  *

  At the moment Maggie was obsessively happy, blatantly ignoring the fact that he would be leaving in the morning and might never return. This was their last private time together and she intended to enjoy each moment for she felt an important, and painful, phase of her life fast approaching.

  They had ridden some distance from the house before either spoke but Maggie had become more comfortable with these periods of silence between them. It gave them time to enjoy the things around them, each enjoying their individual appreciation of the breathtaking beauty of nature. She actually felt that finding companionship in silence between two people was a very adult thing.

  It was Hunter who broke the spell. “Maggie,” he said softly, “we must talk,”

  Shaking her head in a fashion that reminded him of her youth, she refused to look in his direction. “I don’t want to talk,” she said firmly.

  He smiled sadly, understanding. “I know.” And then, spying a pretty pond, he led her in that direction and dismounted at the water’s edge.

  Maggie’s mare stopped beside Hunter’s mount without any signal from her rider; but Maggie kept her seat, refusing to join him.

  “You cannot avoid the inevitable, Maggie, my girl,” he said firmly as he stepped up beside her mare and reached up to grasp her waist with both hands. “Come down now.”

  Maggie had no choice but to turn, leaning toward him and bracing her hands on his shoulders as she stared into his dark eyes. “I know what you’re about to say and I don’t want to hear it.”

  He laughed shortly and lowered her to the ground. “And what am I about to say?”

  “That I am just a silly girl and you are a man.”

  The small pout that had formed around her mouth made him smile. “You are not a silly girl, little one. You are a delightful young woman.”

  “But too young,” she whispered.

  “Yes, too young for some things.” He cupped her elbow in one hand and led her toward a fallen tree.

  When they were seated side by side,
Hunter leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and thoughtfully lacing his fingers together.

  “I shall wait for you, you know.”

  With that firm comment, he suddenly realized her infatuation was even stronger than he had suspected. Hunter turned his head until he could see her profile. She refused to look at him; instead she was sadly staring across the pond.

  “You will soon be meeting many, many young men, Maggie. You will go to parties and picnics and make many more friends as you grow up. You’ll soon forget me,” he added gently.

  She turned her head abruptly and he could see moisture gathering in those bright blue eyes. It was a look that would haunt him, Hunter was certain.

  “I will never forget you,” she said adamantly. “You must promise to come back.”

  “I have enjoyed my time at Treemont, Maggie,” he said evasively. “And I shall miss your company. But now it's time for me to go.”

  “Why did you stay in England for so many years?” she asked, blatantly changing the subject.

  He straightened, studying her expression in hopes of gleaning some purpose to the question. “I was getting an education.”

  “And after that?” she asked, returning her gaze toward the pond. “You stayed for many years after that.”

  Clearly perplexed, Hunter responded warily. “I visited farms to learn about planting various crops and their advantages, and about breeding fine horses.”

  “You have been away from your home for many years,” she said quietly.” A few more days will not matter.”

  “Oh, Maggie.” The tender way he spoke her name seemed to be more than she could bear.

  She jumped to her feet and moved quickly away to stand staring out over the small pond, although seeing nothing. “This was one of my mother’s favorite places.” She flinched when his hands settle lightly on her shoulders

  “Maggie, look at me.”

  “I know it’s hopeless,” she whispered as her head fell forward, “and I’m sorry, Hunter. You think I’m just a girl but I don’t feel like a girl. This is all very confusing. I’ve never felt this way before about anyone and I can’t seem to help myself.”