Romancing Her Rival - Joanna Barker Page 0,16

the rickety bridge spanning the stream and then cut across the field, the grazing sheep paying her no mind. Eventually she came upon a wooden fence, an enclosure that had been part of the Williams farm until the old man had moved to a pensioned cottage, unable to care for the land. As far as she knew, the pen had been unused for going on two years. If she cut across it instead of going around, she’d reach the east pastures—and Cole—much faster.

Though perhaps a slower walk was better, considering she hadn’t any idea what she would say once she found him.

Daphne exhaled. No, she couldn’t procrastinate. She knew herself too well—once she put it off a few minutes, she would put it off a few days. This needed immediate attention. She found the stile steps and carefully climbed over the wooden fence, starting across the low grass as she clapped a hand to her bonnet in the breeze. At least the birds had stopped their incessant chirping.

But then a strange, inhuman cry met her ears.

Daphne whirled. An enormous goat stood across the enclosure, ivory horns curled back over its head, covered in thick brown hair with a white streak across its nose. But these details fled from her mind as the creature bent its head and charged.

Daphne shrieked and stumbled backwards, pulse pounding in her ears like a thunderstorm. Her eyes darted about the enclosure, but the stile she’d climbed was too far, much too far. She ran toward the nearest fence, but how she’d climb it in time was beyond her. The goat’s hooves thumped into the grass behind her, and the animal let out another horrible screech.

“The gate!”

Daphne nearly tripped on her skirts as she whirled to her right. A horse was running parallel to the far fence, the rider looking over at her with wide, gray eyes. Cole.

“The kissing gate,” he shouted again, pointing behind her.

She spun. How had she not seen it before? She snatched up her skirts and sprinted for the gate, her vision bouncing, and she tried to hear the goat over her own footsteps in the grass. Throwing a glance over her shoulder, she yelped. The creature was nearly upon her, beady black eyes fixed, horns lowered.

“Here!”

Cole jumped from his horse the same moment she scrambled into the u-shaped gate. He pushed the swinging door closed just as the goat arrived, and it butted its horns against the wooden beams, letting out a bellow to display its frustration. The door of the gate moved back toward her, since of course there was no latch. It was only supposed to keep animals from crossing to the next field, since they couldn’t fit in the space she now occupied.

“Come away from there,” Cole said, taking her elbow. “That fellow is nasty on a good day, and I’m quite certain today is not a good day.”

Daphne lurched after him, her pulse still flying through her body, her chest heaving. “When—when on earth did we start housing goats in that pen?”

“It’s just that one there,” he said, leading her to a low stump in the grass and making her sit. “He is so ornery we can’t keep him with the others.”

“I can see why.” She had to shake her head and breathe a few times, her voice hiding somewhere deep in her chest. “I thought he would gore me to pieces.”

The goat gave one last irritated bellow then trotted off. Cole hardly seemed to notice, looking down at her with a slight lift to his lips. “I daresay you would have put up something of a fight.”

“Not likely,” she said. “I’m afraid I do not make a habit of crossing irritable livestock.”

Cole laughed, that full, unrestrained laugh that came from the center of him. His light hair had been tossed askew during his ride and his eyes crinkled at the corners. Daphne couldn’t help a grin.

Until she remembered why she’d come, and everything that was between them. Her grin slipped, and Cole’s laugh faded.

She cleared her throat, standing and brushing her skirts. “Thank you. For helping me, that is. I’d forgotten about that gate.”

“Of course.” Cole stepped back, hands in the pockets of his jacket. “I could not stand by and watch you meet your end at the hands of a goat.”

She wanted to smile again. He’d always used to tease her, and she’d forgotten how it felt. Like he saw more of her than others did. Like he actually enjoyed being with her.

How much of