then, in a movement that startled Neufeld, he pressed his chest against the gate so he could stretch out his neck and drop his head into Annis’s waiting hands.
Annis slid her hands up over Black Satin’s cheeks and onto the arch of his neck. She pressed her forehead to his, and the two stood there for a long moment, the beautiful black horse and the tall, slender girl. It was an embrace between two creatures devoted to each other. Harriet could have shed a tear or two herself.
Neufeld was not so sensitive. He cleared his throat and tugged his jacket over his protuberant belly. Harriet guessed he wanted to intervene but was wary of offending the daughter of George Allington, soon to make a brilliant marriage.
Nervously Neufeld turned to Harriet for reassurance. She gave him a frosty nod, even as she saw, beyond his shoulder, Annis stroking a palmful of their salve onto Black Satin’s neck, beneath the fringe of his mane.
Annis, as they had planned, took charge. “Mr. Neufeld, I believe there is a scratch on Black Satin’s neck. A wound, perhaps from a protruding nail or a splinter. It might be bleeding. Have you ascertained the safety of this stall?”
Neufeld, with a grunt of anxiety over the condition of his expensive purchase, reached to examine the spot Annis had just smeared with their salve. He slid his hand beneath Black Satin’s mane and ran his fingers along the horse’s neck. Neufeld stepped back, looking curiously at his fingers. They shone, as if with sweat, or oil.
He said, “I don’t find any wound, Miss Allington. This is not blood, but—well. I don’t know what it is. It is very hot today, and perhaps…” He rubbed his fingers together, then wiped them on his trousers.
“Oh, what a relief,” Annis said coolly. Still with one hand on Black Satin’s neck, she said, “Mr. Neufeld, please. Will you consider selling my horse back to us? My father misunderstood my situation. I want to have Bits back in our stables. Black Satin, I mean.”
Neufeld licked his lips uncertainly. “I don’t—Miss Allington, this is—does your father—”
As the salve took effect, the change in Neufeld was neither subtle nor slow. His frown of confusion transformed into a genial, avuncular look. His eyes brightened, and his brow smoothed. He said, as if it gave him pleasure to do so, “But of course, Miss Allington! Anything I can do for the bride-to-be! Anything that will make you happy! There’s to be a title, I understand? Now, I am sure we can come to an arrangement that will please both you and Mr. Allington, and—”
He burbled on for a bit, happy now that his anxiety had eased, eager to do anything Miss Allington asked of him. Harriet stood silent as Annis made the arrangements.
A plan was easily agreed to. Black Satin, and Sally as well, would be delivered to the Allington stables the following morning. The payment for the horses would be refunded by Mr. Allington, with an allowance for their care and feeding during the period of Mr. Neufeld’s custody of them. Miss Allington, of course, would recommend Neufeld’s carriages for hire to all her friends and wouldn’t dream of using any others for her wedding arrangements.
They stopped for a brief visit to Sally before making their way out of the stables, Neufeld making jolly comments all the while. The alteration sat oddly upon his thick features and stolid manner, like a costume that didn’t quite suit. Harriet contained her amusement until she and Annis were safely in the privacy of their hired car.
Once the carriage horse had begun to trot northward, she began to chuckle. “You, Annis Allington,” she said, “were born for this! You must have confidence in our work now, I hope?”
“I do, Aunt Harriet, I do!” Annis glowed with relief and joy over her reunion with Bits. “Mr. Neufeld seems perfectly happy, and as you say, he has a stable full of other horses! I will see to Papa’s dose of our salve the moment we’re home.”
“I wish you good luck with that. We’ll drop you there, and I’ll go on to the Dakota.”
Annis turned glowing eyes to her. “When do we begin my apprenticeship, Aunt Harriet?”
“Why, my dear Annis,” Harriet said, still smiling, nearly as joyful as her great-niece at the success of their mission. “It has already begun.”
39
James
Autumn wound to its close with clement weather that brought
an abundant harvest from every sun-drenched Seabeck farm. The spring foals were thriving, bounding around