Kathleen walked back to her rooms in a daze. Her husband was indeed a man of distinct and powerful tastes, and endless surprises.
A short time later Kathleen entered the stables looking for someone to saddle the bay for her. In the far stall, she noticed a large dark horse standing quietly. Approaching closer, she saw a magnificent black stallion. By his fine head she knew he was an Arabian. Kathleen reached out her hand and stroked his soft nose. “Hello, Beauty,” she said softly. “If I were a betting person, I’d say you have to be Reed’s horse. That’s too bad, because you are just the type of horse I am looking for. Why aren’t you out in the sunshine this fine morning frolicking with the mares?” She continued to talk softly and stroke the big animal’s neck. He nuzzled her hand, blowing his warm breath in her palm.
Suddenly he pulled sharply black, baring his huge teeth and laying his ears back. Startled, Kathleen stepped aside as he lunged forward, neighing and snorting angrily.
“Miss! Miss! Git back away from dere! Massa Reed don’t cotton to folks bein’ ‘round Titan. He’s dangerous!”
“Who’s dangerous, the master or the horse?” Kathleen challenged as she turned to see the tall negro in charge of the horses.
“De hoss, ma’am, ob course.”
“Nonsense! He was as gentle as a lamb before he smelled your fear. Who cares for him while your master is away?”
“I does, ma’am.”
“Who exercises him?”
“A couple ob de field hands helps me wif him ebery week. He lets him out to pasture fo’ a day, but it ain’t easy to catch him again. Massa Reed would hab my skin if n dat hoss eber got away.”
“Saddle him for me,” Kathleen ordered quietly.
“Ma’am, please! I cain’t do that. Massa Reed will whup me fo’ shoah! Yo’ might could git kilt!” the stable man pleaded. “ ’Sides, ain’t nobody kin git a saddle on dat black debil but Massa hisself!”
“Then I’ll do it myself, but first you must leave. This horse dislikes you for some reason.” At his wide-eyed, fearful look, Kathleen added, “I will be fully responsible if either the horse or I come to any harm. Now go.”
As soon as the man had gone, Kathleen calmed the huge horse. “Titan. That’s an apt name for you, boy. How would you like some fresh air and sunshine?” Talking softly and moving slowly, she found a saddle and eased the door of the stall open. “Easy, Titan.” The big stallion balked slightly at the bit, but allowed her to saddle him. He seemed anxious to be off and running as she led him outside the stable to the mounting block.
Taking a deep breath, Kathleen drew herself into the saddle. Barely had she seated herself on the brute’s back then they were off like a shot. Seeing a fence up ahead, and sensing that Titan was going to jump it, Kathleen somehow managed to hike up her skirts and swing one leg over the horse to sit astride. Giving him his head, horse and girl sailed into the air and over the fence, racing across the grassy field. Finally Titan slowed, and Kathleen gained control and turned him toward Emerald Hill and her grandmother’s house.
Kate O’Reilly was sitting on her side veranda when Kathleen burst around the corner of the house on Titan’s back, skirts flying. After an initially startled look, Kate gave a hearty laugh and motioned for Kathleen to join her on the porch swing. “If me eyes don’t deceive me, that looks like Reed’s horse, me dear,” she said with a chuckle.
“Titan, I believe his name is,” Kathleen supplied. “He’s just the type of horse I am looking for. Such a beauty! I doubt I’ll find his equal anywhere close. You don’t suppose Reed will consider selling him to me, do you?”
“Ye’re a good judge of horseflesh, Kathleen. ’Tis the Irish in ye. Reed is sure to have a royal fit when he finds out ye’ve been riding Titan. And be sure he’ll know about it five minutes after he’s home. Which reminds me, ye’d better call me Kate or Mrs. O’Reilly around here if ye’ll keep yer secret.”
“I’ll remember that, Kate.” Looking about her, she asked, “Is it safe to talk to you now?”
“If ye keep yer voice low, love.”
“I’ve thought a lot about my disguise, and I am going to sew some shirts and breeches up, but I need some good heavy material. I can’t fight in anything flimsy. I particularly want green cloth. I’ll need to darken my hair, too, or Reed will recognize me immediately. Also, it will have to be something that will not streak in salt spray and
water, but will still wash out readily when I return to port.”
“Come with me into the house, Kathleen. We’ll look in the attic and see what we can find.” Kate led the way into the house. It was cool and dark in the wide hallway as Kathleen followed Kate up the stairs. Three and a half floors up, they came to another hallway with servants’ quarters on one side and a huge attic on the other. Kate went directly to three huge trunks against one wall. Piling boxes aside, she opened the first, rummaged through, and closed it again. Out of the second trunk filled with old dresses and bolts of cloth, she selected a length of forest-green broadcloth, and at the bottom of the chest found a bolt of leaf-green canvassing. Finally, in the third trunk, she pulled out a length of leather dyed emerald. Spreading it out, she eyed Kathleen critically and said, “There is enough here, I think, if it suits yer purpose.”
“Oh, Kate! It is perfect!” Kathleen said, eyes glittering like jewels. “I’ll be the best-dressed pirate on the high seas!” she whispered with a giggle. “I’ll even make a mask of it to be sure Reed does not recognize me.”
Gathering up the fabric, Kate took Kathleen’s arm. “Come. We’ll see about a room for ye for when ye come to visit and when ye are just supposed to be visiting.” Kate grinned. “It would be safer to leave yer horse here and ride one from my stable when ye go, and perhaps color yer hair and change yer clothes here, too.”
On the second level she led Kathleen to a corner room with an outer entrance from the veranda. “Ye can come and go without notice easily from here as long as ye avoid the servants. A few I will trust with limited knowledge for yer safety’s sake and yer aid.”
“Thank you, Kate. You are a love!” Kathleen exclaimed, hugging the older woman.
“I know!” Kate laughed. “Now! To yer hair! I will look up in my books and prepare a rinse to darken it. Black would be best. A totally opposite look from yer own. What do ye think?”
“I will rely on your judgment there. Black sounds just fine.”
“Can ye stay for luncheon, lass?”
“I really should get back. When the stable keeper tells them I rode off on Titan, they will probably think I’m lying dead or at least terribly wounded. I’ve been gone quite a while.”
“I can send a boy over to tell them ye are safe—unless ye are anxious for another encounter with the darling Amy,” Kate added slyly.
“If you think Mrs. Taylor would not think me too rude, which she probably does anyway after I absconded with Titan, I would love to stay.”
“Fine! I’ll send a note explaining that I have invited ye to spend the afternoon. Since I tend to throw me weight around a bit anyway, no one will think it strange. I am usually very outspoken and apt to have me own way in the community. At my age I can get away with such things. Ye would laugh to see how I have them cowed most of the time, especially the young folk. Ye would think I was quite a fearsome old dragon who breathed fire and ate children for my dinner! Ha!”
During lunch Kathleen again expressed her desire for a horse of distinction. “I don’t consider myself an average person, and I’ll not settle for the average horse, Kate,” she declared adamantly. “Where will I find such a fine animal as I desire? Ted says he’ll take me to the races Saturday to talk to the horse traders, and there are always the horse fairs, but I could look for months before I find the right one!” she pouted.
“Well, we’ll have to see what we can come up with, won’t we?” Kate said mysteriously. “Did ye know that Reed bought Titan from us?” At Kathleen’s startled look, she laughed and said, “To be sure, lass. Besides the cotton a
nd rice, yer grandfather used to raise the finest horses in Georgia. What else is an Irishman best suited for, I ask ye? Of course, since that dear man passed away I’ve had a foreman who sees to that end of things. He doesn’t run things as well as Sean used to, but we still sell fine horses. Perhaps not the best in the state any longer, but superior stock.”
“Have you any that are outstanding?”
“Only one ye might be truly interested in. He’s a special breed that Sean worked for years to develop. He never lived to see his dream become a reality, but he felt so strongly about it, and we had discussed this idea so thoroughly, that after his death I made a special point of seeing that his final steps of breeding were continued. The result is a very rare breed called a palomino. The Spaniards developed it first, but have never done much with it. It is an unusual breed, one ye don’t see often.”
“What is he like?”
“He’s a beauty, Kathleen. He is a pale gold Arabian with a white tail and mane, four white socks, and a white blaze down his face. He’s a powerfully built three-year-old stallion about fifteen hands high, smart as a whip, fast as the wind, but wild as a banshee,” Kate explained with pride. “Yer grandfather, if he could see the result of his years of loving labor from heaven, would be so proud!”
“He’s not been broken?” Kathleen asked, her curiosity fully aroused.
“Nay. Not that many have not tried, Reed included. He’s thrown them one and all. Reed was sure he could break him if he had time. He planned to try again this summer, but has been too busy. Now I know what kept him so occupied!” Kate commented with a wink.
“May I see him. Gram?”
“Kate,” her grandmother reminded her.
“May I, Kate?” Kathleen repeated excitedly.
“I’ll have him brought up to the paddock for ye.” Kate smiled.
The palomino was indeed a majestic sight to behold, his golden coat shining in the sunlight like a newly minted coin. He trotted around the paddock, his head held proudly as if he were aware of how special he was.
“He’s a truly glorious sight!” Kathleen sighed ecstatically. “I’ve never seen anything like him!” Turning to Kate, she asked, “If I break him, will you sell him to me?”
“Ye wound me, Kathleen. I will not sell the horse to ye.” At Kathleen’s crestfallen look, she continued. “I can think of no one I would rather see riding Sean’s pride than ye. I will not sell him, rather, I’ll give him to ye in exchange for a promise.”
“What would you have me promise?” Kathleen inquired warily.
“First ye must care for the horse as yer grandfather would have wished. Secondly, ye must never sell him or give him to anyone outside the O’Reilly family. Third, I must have him available to service the specially selected mares here so that we can produce more of his line. He must not be gelded.”
“You have my word, Kate. I agree to all you ask.”
“Now, lass, I have one more request that does not hinge on yer ownership of the horse.” Gazing lovingly into Kathleen’s shining emerald eyes, she said, “Since ye are me only grandchild, I will naturally bequeath all this to ye alone.” She waved her hand wide, indicating her estate. “I would like for ye to come often and begin to learn horse breeding. ’Tis an art, and one that involves many years of learning. You cannot learn it overnight, and I cannot bear to see all Sean’s efforts go for naught.”
“I’ll come as often as I can sneak away or visit and not arouse suspicion.” Returning her attention to the horse, she announced, “He looks like a great golden god! I’ll call him Zeus!”
“An apt name for him, to be sure. Now all ye have to do is break him. Ye’ll need a bit of luck there, darlin’.”
“Nay, Kate. Skill and the right approach is all I need. This is Thursday. I’ll wager I’ll be on his back by Sunday, and not for just a second or two before my rear hits the ground. He’ll not throw me.”
For the rest of the afternoon Kathleen tried her strategy. Slowly, gradually, she moved from her place atop the railing into the paddock. She walked slowly about, talking or singing softly to Zeus, letting him get used to her presence. After a time, she sat on the ground and waited patiently, a lump of sugar held in her open palm near her knee. It seemed an eternity before the palomino’s curiosity overcame his wariness. He approached Kathleen from the rear. When she did not move, he nudged her coppery head with his nose. Not turning, she slowly raised her open palm, offering him the sugar. She smiled slightly as the soft velvet of his nose touched her palm. As he took the sugar lump, she talked soothingly to him. As she turned toward him, he bolted away to the far end of the paddock.
Kathleen rose and walked leisurely back to the fence. Leaning against it, she drew a carrot from her pocket and broke it in half. Holding it out to him, she waited. Again the golden giant approached cautiously as Kathleen urged him on in a low voice. As he accepted her offering, she stroked his neck and forehead gently. He quivered slightly, but allowed her touch for a short minute. When she stepped toward him, he fled. Once again she produced a piece of carrot. This time she let out a loud whistle for him. Zeus jerked up his head and listened. Again she whistled. He eyed her apprehensively, but sighting the carrot, decided to chance it, and trotted up to her.
“Good boy, Zeus,” she said as she patted him lovingly. “Pretty boy. You are such a smart fellow.” Unlike before, Kathleen started walking away from him, calling him as she did. “Come, Zeus. Come boy.” The big animal trotted after her like a tame kitten. Periodically she stopped to stroke him, running her small hands along his neck and shoulders and finally his back and flanks, getting him used to her touch and her voice.
Kathleen climbed from the enclosure and walked around the corner of the stable out of sight. Entering the stable, she found a rope halter and lead. When she was sure that Zeus had wandered away from the fence, she reappeared. She hung the halter on a post and whistled for the horse. His head flew up, as did his ears. He hesitated only a moment, then trotted up to Kathleen, confidently searching for his reward. She gave him a palm full of oats. “Don’t get too used to expecting sweets, love,” she told him. “You’ll get spoiled and absolutely useless.” Zeus whinnied, shook his proud head, and ran off.
At her next whistle he came readily. Talking calmly to him, she carefully fitted the halter over his head. He pawed the ground and tried to pull away, but she held him firmly, constantly speaking softly to him. When she had the halter adjusted, she rewarded his trust with another bit of sugar, then spent three-quarters of an hour leading him in all directions inside the paddock. At last she led him into the stable stall, rubbed him down, fed and watered him, and left.
When Kathleen rode into the stable yard at Chimera on Titan, Ted ran out to greet her. He followed her into the stable where she unsaddled the black Arabian and quartered him in his stall, standing a safe distance away as she curried the horse. “Kathleen! You had us all scared to death when Gus came to the house and told us you had taken Reed’s stallion. We could imagine you broken and bleeding out there someplace!”
“Calm yourself, Ted. This horse is a lamb!”
“Well, I’ll tell you, Reed will not be happy at all to find out you have been riding his prize stallion! No one else has ever dared mount him but Reed.”
“And the horse has been made to suffer because of it! Ted, I know it was presumptuous of me, and Mrs. Taylor must think me horrid, but this animal needs to be properly exercised regularly during his master’s long absences. He cannot be shut up in a stall, let out to pasture occasionally, and never ridden. No doubt Reed must break him all over again each time he returns!”
“You are right in that assumption,” came Mary Taylor’s voice from the stable door.
Startled, and feeling suddenly very guilty, Kathleen said apologetically, “Mrs. Taylor! Please forgive me for my actions today. It was impulsive of me and terribly rude. No one was about this morning or I would have asked your permission and told you where I was going. And when I saw this gorgeous
creature shut away in a stall because everyone was in fear of him, the temptation overcame me. I’m truly sorry for worrying everyone or taking advantage of your hospitality, but I cannot honestly say I am sorry Titan and I got our exercise, and I would like to continue to do so in your son’s absence for the horse’s benefit.”
Kathleen looked at Mary Taylor hopefully.
“I will not forbid it. However, the horse belongs to Reed, so the permission to ride him is not mine to give, Kathleen. If you decide to continue doing so, you must answer to Reed when he returns,” Mary said firmly, but kindly.
“Thank you, Mrs. Taylor. I appreciate your understanding.”
Mary smiled and said, “You are not to feel restricted here, Kathleen. The house and grounds are open to you as a guest. Please feel free to come and go as you wish, but leave a note or word with a servant. You will not be required to dine with us or attend the social functions if you do not wish to, but we are anxious to get to know you and will welcome your company at any time.”
Kathleen returned the smile and replied, “You are very kind, Mrs. Taylor. I did not really know what to make of everything here or what would be expected of me altogether. It is all so new and different to me—the homes, the people. I know so few people as yet, and though I’m not normally shy, I feel out of place. At least the horses seemed familiar ground.”
“Yes, and unlike people, they never comment on your dress, or hair, or manners, or your tan,” Mary answered with a wise look. “Don’t worry, Kathleen. Amy’s opinion of you will not color anyone else’s judgement. From your lunch invitation today with Kate O’Reilly, I would say you are well on your way to charming all of Savannah. With Kate’s open endorsement, which is a miraculous feat in itself, invitations will be forthcoming from the finest homes in the county. You need not worry about being accepted into Savannah’s elite society. You already have your pretty little slipper in the door, and Barbara and Susan and I will be there to help you along.”
Fire and Ice Page 21