None of these options were good, so I was mildly relieved and a little amused when he pulled up in front of my place in a rented carriage—with him holding the reins. The sight of him sitting in the front of the carriage muttering whoa, whoa, whoa at Old Barney was definitely laughable. Many of our five hundred horses were moved to warm, cushy stables in Manitou in October and returned to the island in April, but Old Barney stuck around all year. He was known as a reliable, easygoing horse but, like most of the equine population, if you didn’t know how to guide him, he’d inevitably take you back to the stable.
“You sure you know how to drive that thing?” I asked from my spot on the front porch.
“I’m a natural. Practically a horse whisperer, but please don’t make me climb down and help you with your coat because I’m afraid to let go of the reins.”
I chuckled as I stepped back inside, grabbed my coat and purse, and took a moment to check my reflection in the mirror by the door. Thanks to my wallet-busting shopping spree, I was sporting not only cute new jeans but also a pale blue, silky V-neck blouse that did wonders for my cleavage, and a black lacy push-up bra that did even more wonders for my cleavage. Matching black lace panties? Check. New lipstick and mascara, and freshly painted fingers and toes? Check, and check. I’d exfoliated, plucked, and waxed. I was even wearing perfume for the first time since my old bottle of J’adore had run out two years before. This girl was ready for some action. Probably.
Leo reached out a hand to help me as I clambered up into the carriage. Old Barney turned around and looked at me blandly, as if to say, I see you’re all dressed up, but I’m a horse, so I don’t care.
“Mind your own business, Barney,” I said without thinking.
“What?”
“Oh, nothing. Just talking to your one-horsepower engine up there. His name is Barney. What on earth possessed you to rent a carriage, anyway?” I couldn’t help but laugh again as Leo inexpertly shook the reins and Barney stood stock-still. Other than a tiny flick of his horsey left ear, he could have been a statue.
“I have no idea, but I’m starting to regret it. I’m feeling decidedly Amish, which is not what I was going for at all. And this guy doesn’t know how to drive.” Leo gestured toward Barney.
I reached over and jostled the reins, giving the horse’s rump a little thwack. “Git up, Barney.” He nickered softly and started to amble away from my house.
“Impressive, Mayor Callaghan.”
“Yeah, I don’t mean to be a back-seat driver, but I have had a little practice with this sort of thing.”
“I imagine. I would like to point out, however, that I did manage to get this buggy all the way from the stable to your house. Not without some mishaps, I might add, but I did get here. It only took me about four tries to get him to turn onto your street.”
It was chilly outside, and my black coat was more stylish than warm, so I pulled the wool blanket from under the seat and spread it over my legs. Leo moved a bit closer, which warmed me up faster than any blanket could. He had his brown leather jacket on with a darker brown sweater underneath, and a tan-and-white-striped collared shirt. His dark hair was a little messy from the wind and he was clean-shaven again. No scruff today, which was good because I’d gotten a little scratched up the last time.
“I’ve been looking forward to this,” he said.
“Me too,” I answered, and my shiver had nothing to do with the temperature outside.
The ride from Ojibwa Boulevard to the impressive front entrance of the Imperial Hotel took us past the turquoise-painted library, the butterfly garden that was now brown with frost, and the tall white stockade fence surrounding historic Fort Beaumont.
“Have you been to the fort yet?” I asked while trying very hard not to reach over and take the reins.
“I have. I went about a week ago. Pretty interesting stuff.”
“Does that mean that your book is still going to be about an old fort? Or did your conversation with Judge Murphy give you ideas for something else?”
Leo smiled. “If the judge had his way, my book would be about a small-town judge who metes out justice along with bits of homespun wisdom.