Free The Sister Wife by Diane Noble Page A

“Don’t complain, dear, the salt water will do your leg good. Trust me.”
    She stopped when the water covered the injured fetlock and rubbed Sadie’s velvet nose. The horse seemed to sense the need to remain still and, raising her head, shook her mane and softly snorted.
    The surf seemed rougher than usual for a warm summer’s day, almost as if a storm might be brewing. Shading her eyes, she looked west. No clouds building, but the sky had turned unnaturally dark where it met the horizon. And out a ways, a brisk wind created whitecaps.
    They left the water’s edge and stood for a moment in the warm sugar-soft sand. Enid dug in her toes, just as she had when she was a child. She closed her eyes and faced the sun, letting her face bask in its warmth.
    As always, the thought of Hosea’s ship getting caught in a storm stirred up troubled thoughts in her heart. He was an experienced sea captain, the commander of one of the finest ships—a clipper—ever designed. Besides, Gabe MacKay was with him on the voyage. If ever she could count on the sea to be wary of taking down another ship, ’twould be on this voyage—with such a fine commander and equally fine architect whose heart led him to build the safest and fastest ships ever to sail the seven seas.
    But then, one could not count on the sea for much of anything. She knew that as God’s absolute truth, as her husband knew, and especially as Gabe MacKay knew.
    She looked out at the dark horizon again and shivered. How far was the Sea Hawk from that line between heaven and earth? Three days out, perhaps, maybe four, depending on when they set sail from Liverpool? And how far were they from the storm that seemed to stir itself into a brooding brew?
    â€œMrs. Livingstone!”
    Enid turned, recognizing the boy’s voice. It was Brodie Flynn, one of a half-dozen children from a neighboring farm—the old MacKay place, which Gabe had sold to the Flynns within a year after the shipwreck that carried his parents and sister to their graves. At the time, they’d been newly arrived from the Scottish highlands, and perhaps for that reason, their brogue seemed more pronounced than most of the islanders’.
    â€œMrs. Livingstone,” the child called again, galloping like the wind on an old dun mare with a dark gray mane and tail. The boy’s short flame-colored hair, almost as red as Enid’s, stuck straight out as if uncombed for a month and perhaps last trimmed with his pa’s hunting knife.
    â€œMa says ye need to get to the harbor right away. A ship’s a-comin’ and she thinks it might be a clipper—though it’s still too far out to tell. Ma says I’m to trade ye horses. Ye’ll take Miss Minnie to the harbor, and I’ll walk Sadie back to the farm, because of her being lame.” He peered down at Sadie’s leg. “Looks good as ever to me, though. Is she healed?”
    â€œNot entirely,” Enid said.
    â€œFolks around these parts think ye part angel, Mrs. Livingstone.”
    Enid laughed. “Now, why would anyone think such a thing as that?”
    â€œBecause of yer way with animals, that’s why. Horses in particular, but there was that old sow out at the Montgomery farm—the one Mrs. Montgomery named Sweet Eliza Jane so the misterwouldn’t slaughter it for supper. Take that fetlock there; no one’s ever seen a horse mend from something so torn and ugly. Everybody says so. Ye could see clear to the bone inside ’er.” He grinned up at Enid, showing two missing front teeth. “So ye’ll take Miss Minnie, then? I’ll be careful with Sadie. Put her in yer barn, rub her down for ye.”
    Enid laughed. “The Sea Hawk is trying for a speed record, child. The captain, much as he might like to, cannot be stopping here. They plan a stopover in Halifax, then they’ll be on their way to Boston. Last I heard, it will be another few