Free Tracie Peterson by Bridal Blessings

side, while what seemed to be the entire world spread out in glorious splendor on the other side. The sheer drop made Amelia a bit light-headed, but the richness of the countryside was well worth the risk of traveling the narrow granite ledge. Tall pines were still in abundance, as were the quaint mountain flowers and vegetation Amelia had come to appreciate. Whenever they stopped to rest the horses she would gather a sample of each new flower and press it into her book, remembering in the back of her mind that Logan Reed would probably be the one to identify it later.
    Soon enough the path widened a bit and Amelia kept close to Lady Gambett, hoping that both Jeffery and Logan would keep their distance. Her father was drawn into conversation with Lord Gambett, and Lady Gambett seemed more than happy for Amelia’s company.
    “The roses shouldn’t be planted too deep, however,” Lady Gambett was saying, and Amelia suddenly realized she hadn’t a clue what the woman was talking about. “Now the roses at Havershire are some of the most beautiful in the world, but of course there are fourteen gardeners who devote themselves only to the roses.”
    Amelia nodded sedately and Lady Gambett continued rambling on about the possibility of creating a blue rose. Amelia’s mind wandered to the rugged Logan Reed and when he allowed his horse to fall back a bit, she feared he might try to start up a conversation. Feeling her stomach do a flip and her breathing quicken, Amelia gripped the reins tighter and refused to look up.
    “Are you ill, my dear?” Lady Gambett asked suddenly.
    Amelia was startled by the question, but even more startled by the fact that Logan was looking right at her as if awaiting her answer. “I … uh … I’m just a bit tired.”
It wasn’t a lie
, she reasoned.
    “Oh, I quite agree. Mr. Reed, shouldn’t we have a bit of respite?” Lady Gambett inquired. “Poor Mattersley looks to be about to fall off his mount all together.”
    Logan nodded and held up his hand. “We’ll stop here for a spell. See to your horses first.”
    Amelia tried not to smile at the thought of dismounting and stretching her weary limbs. She didn’t want to give Logan a false impression and have him believe her pleasure was in him rather than his actions. Without regard to the rest of the party, Amelia urged her horse to a scraggly patch of grass and slid down without assistance. Her feet nearly buckled beneath her when her boots hit the ground. Her legs were so sore and stiff and her backside sorely abused. Rubbing the small of her back, she jumped in fear when Logan whispered her name.
    “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he apologized, “I hope you’re feeling better.”
    Amelia’s mind raced with thoughts. She wanted desperately to keep the conversation light-hearted. “I’m quite well, thank you. Although I might say I’ve found a new way to extract a pound of flesh.”
    Logan laughed. “Ah, the dilemma of exacting a pound of flesh without spilling a drop of blood. The Merchant of Venice, right? I’ve read it several times and very much enjoyed it.”
    Amelia tried not to sound surprised. “You are familiar with Shakespeare?”
    He put one hand to his chest and the other into the air. “‘My only love sprung from my only hate! Too early seen unknown, and known too late!’”
    He grinned. “‘Romeo and Juliet.’”
    Yes, I know,” she replied, still amazed at this new revelation.
    “‘Hatred stirreth up strifes: but love covereth all sins.’”
    Amelia tried to remember what play these words were from, but nothing came to mind. “I suppose I don’t know Shakespeare quite as well as you do, Mr. Reed.”
    “Logan,” he said softly and smiled. “And it isn’t Shakespeare’s works, it’s the Bible. Proverbs ten, twelve to be exact.”
    “Oh,” she said and turned to give the horse her full attention.
    “I thought we’d worked out a bit of a truce between us,” Logan said, refusing to leave her to