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The meadow glowed green, soft with the touch of spring and speckled with the first buds of wildflowers, which promised to turn the open land into a colourful carpet soon. Above, a red kite glided lazily across the sky, its eyes trained on the ground, poised to swoop for any unwitting prey. Only a lone rider and his horse disturbed the silence of the landscape, moving with a steady, purposeful grace.
As he surveyed his new property, Darcy had to shield his eyes from the intense rays of the spring sun. The land stretched endlessly, its fertile fields and promising vistas assuring him that he had made the right decision. He perched high on his faithful friend, Devil – a beautiful, high-spirited stallion, sleek and black as midnight, standing over sixteen hands high. The animal had the cunning ability to read Darcy’s moods, and this time was no exception; he remained motionless, mirroring Darcy’s solemn, reflective state as he gazed across the vast land now under his care.
After a few moments, Darcy’s gloved hand moved quietly, comfortingly, patting Devil’s neck. He dismounted with a swift, practised move, landing lightly on his feet, his boots pressing into the damp earth. He took a few steps and knelt on the ground. Letting his fingers trace the contours of the soil, his touch reverent, almost meditative, he caressed the earth with one of his hands, then ran his fingers through the earth. Scooping up a handful, he raised it to his nose. Deeply, he inhaled the thick, familiar, earthy aroma and examined the sample. He made the soil crumble between his fingers and nodded in satisfaction. The earth was good, as he remembered.
Darcy stood, dusting off his gloves, and called Devil, who went to him immediately. He nudged him with his head, and Darcy reacted as always by scratching behind his ears and stroking the animal along his neck with a smile that reached his eyes as his gaze drifted back over the meadow while he stroked Devil’s neck.
“What say you, my friend?” he murmured. “Shall this land suit your liking?”
Devil snorted in agreement, drawing a smile from Darcy.
His smile faded as he cast another glance around the meadow and then turned his gaze westward. Though the dense canopy of the treetops obscured the view, he knew precisely what lay beyond those trees that framed the edge of the property. His heartbeat quickened, a sensation he both relished and resented for its lack of control. Of course, he knew – he saw it with his mind’s eye – her home was behind the treetops in that direction. He imagined the path winding from the meadow, cutting through the woods, and emerging at the grounds of the house. He could be there in less than half an hour if he walked swiftly, a mere quarter of an hour if he rode on Devil.
He remembered her as one remembers the sunlight breaking through spring foliage: clear, unexpected, and irrevocable. A single word, a single glance had been enough to burn her image into his memory forever.
The urge to see her, to be in her presence, tugged at him, and he closed his eyes against the longing. To ride there, unannounced, would be absurdly impulsive and reckless – a stark contrast to his character. Even unwise and indecent. Still, the thought remained, tempting him.
He shook his head to push the impulse to visit her aside.
With a deep breath, he mounted Devil once more, his hands sure on the reins. After a few steps, he paused, eyes still fixed on the distant treetops, his gaze lingering in the direction of her home, feeling the invisible pull. While still looking in that direction, he made his animal turn. He rode with renewed energy, enjoying the soft breeze sweeping across his face as if it carried a faint whisper of the promise before him.
As he rode on, only one thought occupied his mind, pressing with a peculiar weight upon his heart. The wind whispered as it brushed past, as though bearing the echoes of what could be – a future neither assured nor denied.
How might she react upon learning of his presence? So near? Would her face soften with pleasure, or would that arched brow rise in disapproval? Would she understand what had brought him so close or dismiss him as simply an uninvited neighbour, a bad memory from the past?