by Kate Hill
“Not a problem.”
“I’m going to get her back to Terra’s,” Phillipa said. “Would you like to keep my mare to get home, Sophia?”
“No. The walk will do me good.”
Phillipa mounted her gelding and, leading both the mare and the runaway filly, left Zach and Sophia staring at one another.
“I should go, too,” she said.
“Sophia—”
“Yes?” She turned wide eyes to him.
“It’s good to see you.”
She smiled. “You, too, I— Gods! What happened?”
Zach’s gaze followed hers to his rump. Blood soaked the dark hair and the flesh swelled where the rock had struck.
“It’s nothing. Just a little accident.”
“You need to clean that. Come back to the farm and I’ll help you.”
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s a good way to get an infection. Let’s go.”
Zach’s pulse throbbed wildly when she grasped his wrist and tugged him towards the farm. The sight, scent and feel of her were enough to make him jump out of his skin with desire.
“Where’s your room so I can heat some water?”
“I stay in the barn.”
Sophia entered the barn, Zach behind her. Simon glanced over his shoulder from where he stood with a gray gelding. The animal appeared as wary as everyone else unfortunate enough to work with the farmer.
“What the hell are you doing in here?” Simon demanded. “You’re supposed to be cleaning up that mess outside and then chopping wood.”
“He’s hurt!” Sophia snapped before Zach could speak.
“Hurt?” Simon snorted. “Looks healthier than an oversized ox to me.”
Sophia turned to Zach, her brow furrowed. “There’s no bed here.”
“I never said anything about a bed. I said I slept in the barn.”
Sophia drew a deep breath and rage sparked her green eyes. Zach nearly smiled. She looked beautiful with her dander up, though he couldn’t understand what had her so angry.
“Come with me.” Sophia turned on her heel and walked to the house.
“I’m not paying you to moon over that little woman!” Simon called after them. “I’ll take this out of your wages!”
“How can you stand him?” Sophia seethed, her fists clenched. “He’s the most miserable bastard in town. Why do you stay here?”
Zach shrugged. “Work is work.”
Sophia knocked on the door and Emma answered.
“May we have some warm water and a cloth, please? And if you have anything to treat a cut, we could use it,” Sophia said.
“Someone hurt?” Emma’s eyes widened. “It’s not James—”
“No. It’s Zach.”
“Zach?” Emma glanced at him. “What’s wrong?”
“That.” Sophia pointed at Zach’s bloody hindquarters.
“Did that happen when the wagon broke?” Emma looked concerned. “Looks deep. Come in.”
Sophia and Zach stepped inside. While Emma heated some water over the fire, she pointed Sophia in the direction of a shelf containing several herbal remedies. Sophia chose a container and approached.
“I can take care of this myself,” Zach said, feeling strange with so much attention focused on him over a little cut.
“Here.” Emma brought the water and cloths to the table.
“Emma! Get out here!” Simon bellowed from the barn.
“Excuse me.” Emma rushed out the door.
Sophia’s lip curled. “Why doesn’t someone just tell him to go to hell?”
“Seems to me a man that miserable is already in it.”
She raised her gaze to his. “What does it take to get you riled?”
“More than Simon, I’ll tell you that.”
Sophia soaked the cloth and gently began cleaning the cut. He watched, tingling with pleasure in spite of how the water stung.
“I think the bleeding is slowing down,” she said, applying pressure to the wound. “I’m sorry if this hurts, but I want to make sure the bleeding stops. Gods, the swelling is awful. You must be in terrible pain.”
He shrugged. “I told you I’m not.”
“Other than Simon’s rotten temper, how do you like working here?”
“It’s work.”
She sighed. “Don’t you have an opinion about anything?”
“Yes, about you.”
“Me?” She raised an eyebrow.
He nodded.
“Well, are you going to tell me or should I guess?”
“I think…you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”
She smiled, a hint of a blush in her cheeks. “You’re probably the only man who can say that to a woman and sound sincere.”
“I am sincere.”
“You also need a good meal.” She glanced at his prominent equine ribs then his lean man-half.
“I’ll do something about that once I get paid.”
“What do you mean?” Her brow furrowed.
“Nothing.” He wondered if his disappointment showed on his face when she removed the cloth from his rump. It had felt good on the injury. He needn’t have worried. She gently bathed the entire area until all the blood was gone, except the bit oozing from the cut itself. She opened the container on the table and spread an herbal paste over the wound.
“Better?” she asked.
“Thank you. You didn’t have to bother.”
“It was no trouble.” She drew a deep breath as her gaze swept his body. One of her small hands smoothed his equine back. “You have such a fine build. I…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you like that without asking. I know it’s bad manners to stroke a Horseman without permission.”
“I don’t mind.” His heart thrummed and his skin tingled where she’d stroked him. Gods, he wanted to feel those gentle little hands on his man-half. He wanted to change to Huform and bury his aching cock deep inside her sweet pussy as he had so many nights in his dreams.
“You don’t?” She reached for him again, tentatively, her palm moving over his back. He wished his coat wasn’t so filthy with dirt and sweat from the day’s work.
“No,” he breathed, almost wishing to close his eyes to better enjoy her touch. “If you don’t mind the scars. They can’t be nice to stroke.”
“I think you’re very handsome. I…” She paused suddenly, pushing at the harness swathing his belly. “Gods, what’s this? Take this off.”
He hesitated. Though he longed to discard the harness, he didn’t relish the idea of exposing the sores beneath. He looked bad enough as it was.
“I have to get back to work,” he said.
“Not until you take this off!” She began unbuckling the girth, but he grasped her wrists.
“Don’t.”
She held his gaze, concern in her eyes. Though he sensed her rage, she spoke calmly. “I know you’re hurt.”
“It’s just a little irritation. That’s all. As soon as I can afford my own tack, it’ll be fine.”
“He shouldn’t ask you to use ill-fitting tack and you should know better than to use it!”
“I need the work and a little discomfort never killed anybody. Believe me, there’s a lot worse.”
“Zach, you’re not in the mines anymore! Terra and Moor told me what you went though, but it’s over now. You’re not Simon’s slave!”
“I know, but there must be a compromise until I earn enough to make my own way.”
“The compromise is your skin!” she snapped, trying to tug away from him. “Let me go!”
He released her and she stood, her breasts rising and falling with agitated breaths, her eyes fixed on the strap. “If you won’t let me help you, then at least treat those injuries yourself. And don’t wear that damn strap again!”
“There’s no need for it now. The wagon broke this morning.”
“Good!” she said through clenched teeth. “I wish it had broken with Simon beneath it!”
“Fe
isty little thing, aren’t you?” A grin tugged at his lips, but he didn’t allow it to spread. He unfastened the strap, the release of damp leather smarting his raw flesh. He dropped the strap on a chair as he inspected as many of the sores as he could see, difficult since most of them were on the underside of his belly. They looked as bad as they felt. He suddenly imagined being back in the mines instead of free. Maybe Sophia was right. If he wanted to be treated as a free man he needed to act like it.
* * * * *
Sophia drew a trembling breath, anger and concern clogging her throat and momentarily darkening her vision as she looked at the enflamed welt across Zach’s equine-belly. The beautiful molasses-colored coat had been rubbed raw and oozed bloody pus. Some surrounding places were dried and crusty, indicating several days’ worth of chaffing. She hated Simon. She hated the slavers who’d tormented Zach for so many years that he believed such injuries were an acceptable trade-off for work. She even hated Zach for not standing up for himself against Simon’s cruelty. Hate might have been the wrong word, though she was mad at him. She wouldn’t feel so sorry for someone she hated.
After talking with Terra and Moor, she finally understood her dream lover’s reluctance to tell her about his scars. She even understood his reason for rejecting her on the first day they’d met—not that she agreed with him. She didn’t care if he had land or money. He had time to gain all the things he’d missed in captivity. Why couldn’t he realize she just wanted to be with him and help him explore his newly discovered freedom?
He was a man. A Horseman. They were proud by nature. The power and dominance important to all males were twice as important to Horsemen. The only way she could hope for a chance with Zach would be to convince him of her love and respect. She did respect him, and so did many of the villagers who knew his story. He probably had no idea how much people admired the battle he’d fought and won and the stand he’d taken in a world that had sought to break him.
Sophia poured fresh water and dipped in another piece of cloth. She approached, holding his gaze. There was a flicker of obstinacy in his eyes, yet he didn’t stop her when she began cleaning the welt.
“I wish you’d come work for me,” she said. “I need the help badly.”
“It’s kind of you, but—”
“It’s the truth.” She tilted her face up to his. “I know you’re too proud to accept charity from anyone, even if you needed it. And I wouldn’t offer you charity, anyway. I have work. If you want it, it’s yours. I’ll say no more on the subject.”
For the next few moments, she worked in silence, washing his raw flesh. She cleaned her hands thoroughly before dipping her fingers into the salve and spreading it over the sores.
“Poor thing,” she murmured, tenderly stroking the undamaged flesh close to the welt. She paused, hoping she hadn’t insulted him.
He grasped her upper arm and tugged her in front of him. His gaze held hers, calm on the surface but burning with passion beneath. Cupping her chin in his callused hand, he tilted her face up to his and bent, his lips covering hers. His kiss was warm and moist. Her lips parted against the gentle probing of his tongue. She was being kissed by a handsome giant, all hot, hard-muscled power leashed only for her. Slipping her arms around his neck, she moaned softly.
The door burst open and Simon stomped inside, Emma and James behind him.
“What the hell are you doing in my house?” he roared. “I don’t want any dirty Horseman clomping around with his muddy hooves in my home! Why aren’t you working, you good-for-nothing—”
“Because.” Zach reached Simon in two strides, balled his fist in the front of the farmer’s shirt and lifted him off the ground so they were eye-to-eye. “I quit!”
Zach dropped Simon hard, grasped Sophia’s hand, and swept out the door. He nodded at Emma and James. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re going?” James tried chasing Zach, but Emma held his arm. “But you’re my friend!”
“I always will be, little one.”
“You bastard! You stay away from my boy and my farm!” Simon roared, limping after Zach and Sophia. “Do you hear me? Stinking Horseman!”
“I have to give him a piece of my mind!” Sophia snapped, turning on her heel.
Zach caught her arm. “Don’t bother with him. He’s not worth the breath it would take to yell at him.”
“It might make me feel better!”
“Yes, I was right.”
“About what, damn it?”
“You are very beautiful when you’re angry.”
Sophia’s rage faded a bit and she fell into step beside him. “You should have dropped him harder.”
“I should have quit sooner.”
“That, too.”
She smiled at him. He glanced at her, his lips grim, though his eyes gleamed with underlying mirth. Zach had seemed like a difficult man to reach, but she had stumbled upon the answer. Affection and kindness. He responded well to both, and she had an abundance to offer him, this man of her dreams.
In the barn, Zach gathered his few belongings—trousers, a shirt, and boots for when he changed to Huform, a comb, a container of ointment, a stone pick, and a leather pouch to carry them in.
“Before we go home, I want to stop in the village,” she said.
“Whatever you like.”
Side by side, Zach and Sophia walked the three miles to the village. Sophia couldn’t keep from staring at him. After so long they would finally be together, living under the same roof.
Still, she’d need to find a way to lure him into her bed. In spite of the near-painful desire between them, he would refuse her to suit his principles. Sophia simply couldn’t wait a moment longer for his male pride to crack under the pressure of their passion. She’d devise a way to kick it into breaking.
It probably wouldn’t be all that difficult. She noted with satisfaction that his gaze scarcely left her. Quite often his breathing seemed to increase as his eyes darkened with sexual intensity. There was no doubt he wanted her, and never in her life had she wanted a man so much.
“What kind of work do you want done?” he asked.
“There are plenty of trees on my property. Several of the villagers have been asking for firewood and builders need lumber. I’m a seamstress by trade, and besides I couldn’t do all that chopping and hauling alone. I’m not interested in groups of men working on my land. I like it quiet.”
“So do I.”
She smiled at him. His eyes brightened but his lips didn’t move. Didn’t the man ever lose his sullen expression? Even in their dreams she never recalled him laughing or smiling.
“I thought if you did the work, we could share the profit,” Sophia said.
“Share it?”
“You’re doing all the work, so I thought twenty-five percent for me and seventy-five percent for you. Of course there’ll be planting to do as well. We want to replace the trees we take.”
“All you want is twenty-five percent? It’s your land.”
“It’s your back. I’m certainly not going to stop my sewing to chop wood, hitch on a strap, and haul a wagon.”
He laughed at the notion. At least something made him smile.
“I don’t think a little human like you would get far toting a wagonload.” He winked. “Besides, there are better forms of exercise I can think of for you.”
“Zach!” She blushed a bit, more from the desire to try the exercises he’d insinuated than from embarrassment. “I like swimming and walking every day. I loved riding, too, but my mare died last spring. She was almost twenty.”
“I’m sorry.”
“She was a good horse. From what I’ve heard, though, riding a Horseman is nothing like riding a true-horse, especially with lovers.”
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been ridden by a lover and I never intend for anyone to ride me.”
Sophia felt embarrassed and disappointed. Perhaps it was stupid of her to suggest riding him. “I’m sorry. That was impolite of me, wasn’t it?
”
His brow furrowed as he took her hand and squeezed it. “No. I was impolite, not you. I’m sorry. The experiences I’ve had being ridden in the mines weren’t good. I need to stop thinking about how life used to be.”
“That’s hard to do.” Her hand tightened on his.
“Tell me more about you. Have you always lived in Hornview?”
“No. I was born and raised in Midnight Cove. About a year ago my aunt died and left me her cottage here in Hornview. I liked it so much I moved in and started my own tailoring business. My parents think I’m crazy living alone, but I’m glad I decided to move here. Otherwise we might have taken years to find each other.”
“I almost wish it had taken years,” he murmured. “In a few years I’d have more to offer.”
“Material things aren’t all a man has to give a woman.”
“You need them to survive.”
“I don’t doubt your ability to earn a good living, but I’m already secure, Zach. I want someone to love and respect me.”
He stopped and caressed her cheek, his eyes warm and filled with emotion. “Any man would consider himself lucky to love and respect you.”
Sophia stared into his eyes, her pulse racing and lips parted. Was he going to kiss her again? He edged closer then pulled away and continued walking.
In the village square, she led the way to the blacksmith’s shop. He also sold supplies for Horsemen. Moor was examining a new harness. He smiled and greeted them. His brow furrowed. “You look rough, Zach. What happened?”
“That bastard Simon shouldn’t have anyone working for him!” Sophia snapped.
“Sophia.” Zach rested a hand on her shoulder. “It’s all right.”
“No, it’s not! He treated you miserably and is just as nasty to everyone else! I’m so glad you finally quit.”
“I’m very sorry.” Moor shook his head, his dark eyes reflecting guilt. “He used to be decent. He was with our Gathering parties for years, but I guess he’s still not over his accident. I should have noticed that before sending you to work there.”