Free Fate's Intervention by Barbara Woster Page A

by a good six or seven inches and his skin was a deep bronze, which bespoke of many hours working out of doors. Splendid. No fop here , she thought. His dark black hair fell in gentle waves to his shoulders , but his eyes were what ensnared her mind. They drew her to him like nothing she ’ d ever encountered. It was as if there was a magnet behind the large blue orbs , p ulling her closer. Fortunately, she had the maturity to resist.
    She smiled, and then turned back toward the stallion, outstretching her hand again to stroke his jaw. She may have the maturity to resist his obvious charms, but she simply didn ’ t trust her voice to speak maturely. At least not until all her body parts returned to an even keel.
    Matthew watched the struggle play across the strange woman ’ s features before she turned away and hoped he hadn ’ t made a blunder by approaching her. She was young, to be sure, but so young to never have received male attention? Young, maybe, but definitely old enough to have wed and popped out several children by now, surely.
    Still, she didn ’ t have the haggard appearance of a woman who spent time raising youngsters. Even his beloved Melody had aged beyond her years when she gave birth to his twin sons. A dmittedly , though Melody looked as if she c ould fall apart under the daily strain of raising two active boys, her beauty never diminished in his eyes.
    This lady ’ s shock when he spoke to her, however, shouted inexperience with men. His eyes glanced over her body and he smiled approvingly. God definitely built her for a man ’ s attention , he thought, admiring the smallness of her waist and the curve of her hips. Still , if she was an innocent, no matter how old she looked, he reason ed, it was probably best to walk away.
    He should, but he didn ’ t.
    “ His name is White Star, ” Matthew said instead, placing a foot on the bottom rail and leaning forward to add his affectionate attention to those lavished by the lady.
    “ You know this magnificent animal? ” Marcelle was careful to keep her gaze averted. If she looked at him again, she wasn ’ t certain whether she could maintain the ability to speak coherently and couldn ’ t guarantee that her legs would remain a solid mass strong enough to hold her upright. As long as she kept her attention on the horse and kept her mind focused on its obvious high quality, she felt on safe and solid ground.
    “ Hear that, boy? ” Matthew asked, rubbing his hand down White Star ’ s muzzle. “ S he thinks you ’ re magnificent. ” The horse whinnied and Marcelle giggled. “ Yes, ” Matthew continued, again addressing Marcelle, “ I know this big hulking beast. I trained him. ”
    “ Really ? ” Marcelle forgot her dictate not to look at the man, and brought her gaze to bear on his. He grinned, and just as she feared, her ability to speak fled. She quickly glanced away. Stroking the horse with one hand, she gripped the railing for dear life with the other as her legs began to wobble.
    Focus on the horse . She repeated the mantra until her mind calmed and her legs stilled, and then breathed a sigh of relief as a feeling settled over her that she could possibly make it through this brief period of conversing with her dignity intact .
    She detached her other hand from the railing and stroked White Star ’ s muzzle determinedly, not that the horse appeared to mind. In fact, he looked as if he were lapping up every bit of the attention .
    “ It couldn ’ t have been too difficult a task, ” she said after a moment, pleased that her voice didn ’ t quaver.
    “ What couldn ’ t have been too difficult? ”
    “ Training him. ”
    “ Why ’ s that? ” Matthew asked.
    “ He ’ s an intelligent animal. Even a monkey could have trained him. ”
    Matthew started at that, “ Sure ly you ’ re not suggesting what I think you are. ”
    “ A nd what would that be? ” Marcelle said, her tone teasing.
    “ That my abilities rank the equivalent