Weathering Rock. Mae Clair
Sagehill without a car.
“What do you mean you don’t drive?”
“It’s complicated.”
She was about to challenge the statement when it dawned on her. His headaches. He probably couldn’t drive, doctor’s orders.
Caleb opened the barn door and she stepped inside.
The interior was murky with shadow, permeated by the smell of wood, hay, and leather. A faint odor of manure lingered on the edges. Not entirely unpleasant, it made her think of farm fields and horse-drawn carriages. Fading streams of light speared through random cracks in the walls, trapping dust motes in a sluggish ballet. Caleb activated a switch near the door and the interior was flooded with yellow light.
“Wow.” Scattered pieces of straw crunched under Arianna’s sandals as she moved further inside. Rope and tack hung from pegs on the walls, side by side with an assortment of small hand tools. She spied a dirt-encrusted shovel, rake and pitchfork. To the right, a wooden ladder led to an overhead loft, littered with straw. Of the four stalls in the barn, only one was occupied. Curious, Arianna stepped nearer.
She remembered carnival pony rides as a child, her father walking beside her as she’d sat on the swayed back of an ancient, gentle mare. This horse was different: younger, incredibly large and regal looking with a deep chestnut coat, darker mane and tail. It swiveled its head in her direction, regarding her with open curiosity.
“Say hello to Ranger.” Caleb ran a hand over the long nose of the horse and was rewarded with a soft snort and nudge in the side. “We’ve been together three years. Here.” Taking her wrist, he guided her hand to rest where his had been. The horse bobbed its head, butting against her, offering a gentle nicker as greeting.
“Lothario,” Caleb chided with affection. “He’s showing off. Flirting with you, the shameless cad.”
She smiled, enjoying the silky feel of the horse’s coat beneath her fingertips. “He wasn’t hurt, that night on the road?” In her mind, she could still see Caleb as the horse reared, his hair a blaze of pure silver in the headlights. Everything about that evening had seemed surreal, as if she’d flirted on the fringe of make-believe.
“No. The scoundrel couldn’t make it back to the barn fast enough, never mind he left me lying on the roadside.”
Arianna giggled at the memory. “You were a sight. For a moment, I thought I’d gotten caught up in some kind of time warp. Between the fog, your horse, and the way you were dressed, I thought I’d taken a turn into the Twilight Zone.”
“Twilight Zone?” Caleb looked puzzled.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Rod Serling?” Arianna blinked in surprise. “Where have you been the living for the last few decades–under a rock?”
He grinned. “Sorry.”
“You’re not one of those PBS-only people are you?”
“Excuse me?”
“Never mind.” She waved the comment aside. “I don’t know why I should be surprised, considering you were wearing a nineteenth century frock coat.”
“Very good.”
His grin was back in place, but she could tell he was starting to tire. No headache this time. It wasn’t pain, but fatigue, that made him lean into the stall door. Ranger nudged his shoulder playfully, and Caleb indulged the horse by rubbing behind its ears.
“The coat was a gift from Winston,” he explained. “I have a strong appreciation for history, particularly the Civil War era. My brother knows that.”
Arianna thought of the books she’d seen him reading at the library. He’d hit upon one of her favorite subjects, something she could talk about for hours, but didn’t want to appear eager or too friendly. She was growing comfortable with him and that bothered her. Watching how relaxed he was with Ranger made it hard to dislike him.
“Maybe we should go back to the house. You look like you should sit down.”
He arched a brow into his bangs. “Am I that obvious?”
Not quite an admission, but it was close enough. “You look like you don’t feel well.”
“Stop worrying. I might get the wrong impression and think you care.”
“I just don’t want any lawsuits. I almost hit you with my car.”
“So that’s what tonight is about–a bribe?” He was playing, enjoying himself. That much was evident in the amused glint of his eyes. “It’s going to take a lot more than dinner to influence me.”
“Caleb.” She regarded him sourly. “You are not scoring points with comments like that.”
He laughed. “Then I better stop before you storm off again. Let’s go back to the house.”
Arianna was only too happy to return to the porch. She felt safer with the open fields of Weathering Rock around her, less intimated by his closeness. She was beginning to experience the same staggering sense of attraction she’d felt the night they’d met, and mentally chided herself for being charmed so easily.
He was an attentive host, courtly and considerate even when his natural assertiveness bled through. The evening progressed at a leisurely pace, their dinner crowned by the slowly setting sun. She talked about her career and the upcoming trip to Gettysburg over baked chicken and asparagus spears. When she tried to reverse the discussion and inquire after his background, he grew evasive and changed the subject.
Determined, she set her fork down. “You retired early,” she said with a pointed glance.
“I didn’t have a choice.”
“I thought given the current state of military affairs…” She let the sentence hang, hoping he would take the hint and be as open with his background as she’d been with hers. When he remained silent, studiously carving a piece of chicken, she plowed ahead. “What exactly did you do in the Army? Or aren’t you allowed to talk about it?”
“I was in command of a regiment.”
She tried to do the calculations in her head. “That would make your rank–”
“Colonel.”
Arianna balked. At most, she had imagined him a captain. By no means was she an expert on military procedure, but she’d dated a staff sergeant several years ago and knew there were only a handful of full bird colonels in the entire state, all of them over forty. “Aren’t you awfully young to be a colonel?”
“I’m thirty-three.” Unfazed by the discussion, he took a sip of wine. “I was commissioned a colonel at twenty-eight, and no–given the circumstances, my rank was appropriate.”
“That’s impossible.”
“It’s difficult to explain.” Caleb pushed away from the table. “I’d rather not talk about it.” He offered his hand and once again she found herself accepting the invitation. While there was nothing defensive in his tone, she sensed finality. He’d ended the discussion.
Colonel! No wonder he was so damn domineering.
Together they stepped to the edge of the porch. On the horizon, streaks of magenta, melon and plum faded from the western sky, chased by the deeper violet of twilight. A bevy of fireflies heralded an array of emerging stars and the pale flesh of a full moon. Strung along the exterior of the house, a handful of old-fashioned lanterns drenched the porch in a topaz glow. Caleb’s gaze was riveted on the sky, his brows crimped in concentration. The light haloed his face, accentuating the gauntness of his cheeks.
Worried, Arianna bit her lip, tightening her fingers around his. “What’s wrong?” He hadn’t been well all evening, but looked worse than before, his face drawn and gray. “Do you have a headache?”
“No.” That strange luminescent