Free A Thousand Little Blessings by Claire Sanders Page B

into his halter, and then returned to the stable to tie Antares to the hitching post.
    Etta came out of the stable office with two small crockery bowls wedged in the crook of her arm. “Don’t tell Papa,” she said with an impish smile as she placed the bowls on the floor.
    Gabriel placed the saddle blanket on the stallion’s back. “Don’t tell him what?”
    Etta retrieved a waxed paper package from the office. “Don’t tell him I feed the cats. He says barn cats aren’t pets and that if I feed them, they’ll stop hunting the rodents that steal the horses’ food. Besides, I’m just giving them a little leftover chicken.”
    “Your secret’s safe with me. Besides, I haven’t seen your Papa since before I went away.”
    Etta bit her bottom lip. “I’d bring you to visit, but now isn’t a good time.”
    “Of course not. I’ll pay my respects when he’s feeling better. How’s he doing?”
    Etta gazed out the open stable door toward the house. “I hired a former Army medic to help him. Dr. Russell said Mr. Simpson was trained as a reconstruction aide in the Army. Have you heard of that?”
    “There were several medics who did that kind of work in the hospital in France. They help men with head wounds.”
    “Hospital? Were you wounded?”
    Gabriel shrugged one shoulder. “It wasn’t much of anything. Especially when you consider what some men are going through. But that’s why I got discharged early. The rest of my division will probably be home this summer.”
    “Lots of mothers will be glad when that day comes.”
    And others would grieve for sons who would never return.
    Etta mounted her mare and rode through the open doorway.
    Gabriel finished saddling Antares and led him into the afternoon sunlight.
    Etta twisted in her saddle and patted the canvas saddle bags that rested behind her. “I brought some lemonade and sandwiches in case we get hungry.”
    “Good thinking. My mother used to say I ate more than Sam Houston’s army.” Gabriel straightened in the saddle and lifted his face to the sun as a gentle breeze ruffled his hair. It seemed as though every part of nature had joined together to form the perfect spring day. He lowered his head and looked at Etta. She watched him with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. “Take the lead, Miss Davis, and I’ll follow.”
    Etta directed her mare down a well-worn path. Gabriel let her set the pace, keeping his horse close, but not interfering with her. She was an expert rider, commanding the horse with subtle movements. Her braid bounced in rhythm as the mare traveled across the sloping terrain that led to Hamilton Creek.
    How often Gabriel had thought of such a day when he’d been in the hospital. He’d will himself away from the smells and noise of wounded men and into the clean, refreshing countryside of his boyhood. He pulled his mount to a stop and breathed in the scent of wild cedar. This was no dream.
    Etta turned and rode back. “Is everything all right?”
    Gabriel leveled his gaze at the lovely young woman. “Better than it has been in a long time.”
    A daring glint lit her eyes. “How about a race?”
    “Are you prepared to lose?”
    Etta’s face shone with humor. “You may have the bigger horse, but Mira can hold her own.” Etta pointed to the right. “See that live oak standing by itself? Last one there has to clean the boots of the winner.”
    Gabriel squinted into the horizon. The finish line was at least five hundred yards away, far enough for Antares to work up a fast gallop. “You’re on,” he said as he slapped the stallion’s sides.
    “Hey!” Etta laughed and urged her mare to follow.
    Within seconds, Etta was at his side, her head level with her horse’s neck, the wind rippling her blouse. Gabriel knew his stallion could win, but he kept the pace steady. Cleaning Etta’s boots was a small price to pay in return for watching her. She was joy and purpose and pleasure all wrapped up in one.
    But fifty yards