Steven waited alone with the horses in the stable while he waited for Randy to take him to his room. The air smelt like everything he was used to: hay, dirt and horses. For a moment, he felt safe. It was almost like T. E. and the awful visions of blood splattered on the ground were from another life... maybe even a bad dream.
He was jolted from his thoughts by a soft rustling in the stalls and then the whisper of a child. Wondering who it could be, he got up from the bench and walked over to where he'd heard the sounds.
Reaching up to pet a big brown horse's nose was a little girl with dark hair. She gasped when she saw Steven.
"Who are you?"
"I was going to ask you the same question," Steven replied. "I didn't know any girls worked in the stables."
"I don't," she told him. "Promise me you won't tell my father that I'm here."
Steven smiled. "You must be Miss. Bethany's little sister."
The little girl nodded her head. "Promise you won't tell on me. If Daddy found out I was in with the horses-"
"Don't worry, I won't tell," he assured her. "I'm Steven and your father just hired me to help with the horses. What's your name?"
"Jamie," she said quickly, reaching back up to the horse. "My father isn't coming, is he?"
Steven looked back toward the door. "No. It's only the two of us in here... well, besides the horses."
Jamie giggled. "I just love horses," she sighed. "They're so big and gentle. I wish I could ride them."
"Why can't you?" Steven asked as he leaned against the wooden gate separating him from Jamie and the brown horse. If Jamie's father owned so many horses, how come she'd never been able to ride any of them?
"My father won't let me," Jamie answered in a disappointed voice. "He says that girls shouldn't ride horses."
"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."
Jamie looked at Steven, her eyes widening. "It is?"
"Why shouldn't you be able to ride the horses?"
Before Jamie could answer, the two of them heard the creak of the outside door opening. Steven turned to look while Jamie moved to the back of the stall and sank to the hay. When Steven looked back at her, she put her finger to her lips.
A middle aged man of average height was walking toward him. "You Steven?" he asked, pulling on the end of his graying mustache. "The boss says I'm to take you to your room." He didn't give Steven a chance to reply. "You coming?"
After another quick glance in Jamie's direction, Steven nodded and followed the man out of the stables.
Bethany trudged back to the house, complaining the whole way that her shoes were not made for walking on the grass. It was a shame there was no one there to hear her.
"Stupid shoes," she hissed, grabbing them from her feet and carrying them the rest of the way. "I swear, I try to do a good deed and what do I get? Sore feet!"
"Do you always talk to yourself, Bethany?" A deep voice asked as she turned the corner. Standing there, was William, with a silly smile plastered across his handsome face.
"Do you always spy on people?" she threw back at him.
"So," he asked, taking her arm and leading her the rest of the way. "How was your new boyfriend? Did he take you on a nice roll through the mud or did he surprise you with the grand roach he keeps in his pocket?"
"You of all people should know he's not my boyfriend," she insisted as she pushed his arm away from hers. "I was only doing a good deed for someone who's not as fortunate as we are. You should take my example."
"Oh, hail the great Bethany," William said as he opened the front door for her. "I shall walk this great state in search for needy servants and offer them to work on my land."
"Stop mocking me before you regret it. I was not insisting that you go out and look for these... people, but rather give them a hand when they come to your door. It's the least you could do."
She caught him rolling his eyes at her. "Quit with the preaching," he sighed. "If I decide to hire someone, then they're lucky. If I don't, then they'll find work elsewhere. It's as simple as that."
"As simple as that," she repeated. "If that's what you'd like to think."
"What are you? The advocate for the poor?"
"I'd rather not continue this conversation at the present moment," she decided. "Are you going to take me to dinner or are you going to stand there and argue with me?"
"Dinner?" He looked confused. "I guess I could do that... but only if we go to my favorite restaurant."
Bethany wrinkled her nose. William's expensive tastes sometimes gave her a stomach ache. She could only eat so much caviar before she felt like throwing it up. "Okay, fine." she gave in. "Let's go."
Steven sat alone in his tiny room, just looking around and taking his new surroundings in. This room was by far nicer than his last one, but something was missing... his things. He had nothing. No pens, no paper... not that he had anyone to write to in the first place, but he liked to have them just in case. He was also missing bed sheets. The mattress he sat on was bare and the springs squeaked every time he moved. The only other piece of furniture in the room was a small dresser... though he had no clothes to put in it.
He sighed and attempted to lean back on his pillow... but then he remembered he didn't have a pillow. His head hit the rubber mattress with a soft thump.
Sometimes, when he sat alone in the silence, and when his head was too heavy from the worries of his life, he couldn't help but think of his mother and their little house by the river. When he was a small boy, she would sit on the edge of his bed and sing him lullabies until he fell asleep. Now, there wasn't anyone to sing to him... he didn't even have anyone to talk to. After she died, he had moved far away to try and find a better life. And where had that road taken him?
Right here. Some dream he was living...
"That new boy... the one with the reddish hair... have you seen him?"
"Yeah, he looked pretty rough. Where do you think he came from?"
"I have no idea, but I do know that he came with nothing but the clothes on his back. I bet something happened to make him leave where ever it is he came from."
"What do you think it was?
Bethany closed her bedroom door tight and then climbed back into bed. She usually didn't spend her time eavesdropping on the servants, but when her room was quiet and they were talking so loud outside her door, she just couldn't stop herself. Besides, they were talking about Sam, or Sean, or whatever his name was.
She pulled the blankets up around to her neck and shivered. If it was cold inside the mansion, then it must be freezing out there... and in the servants quarters. The new boy didn't have one blanket to cover up in. All he had was the threadbare shirt on his back and his worn out jeans.
She was surprised she even remembered what he was wearing.
Doors outside her room shut and she let out a breath she hadn't even realized she was holding. How could she sleep knowing he was freezing? With a sigh, she threw off her covers and slipped on a robe and a pair of sandals, grabbing a blanket and pillow on her way past the massive linen closet. Quietly, she crept out of the house and made her way quickly by the stables and to the servant's quarters.
Unlike the mansion, the old wooden door, barely hanging on by a hinge, was unlocked. She let herself in. The inside looked worse than the outside. Though clean, boards were loose and nails stuck up from the floor. She was glad she didn't come barefoot.
Before she could take another step further, Eliza appeared in front of her out of nowhere. She gasped. "Eliza! Don't do that! You almost gave me heart attack!"
"Miss. Bethany, how come you're wandering the grounds? Shouldn't you be in bed?" Eliza demanded.
"I'm looking for the new stable hand. I heard he doesn't even have a blanket."
"Go back to bed!" Eliza warned, the look in her dark brown eyes going cold. "This isn't the place for you!"
"How dare you tell me where I can and can't go on my father's property!" she almost yelled. "This building belongs to my family, not to you, so please get out of my way before I tell my father how you've treated me."
Reluctantly, Eliza stepped aside, and let Bethany pass. Bethany had taken two steps when she realized she needed Eliza's help. "Eliza, I wanted to ask you-" she started, turning around mid sentence, but when she looked back at where the woman had once been, she found no one. "where the new boy is..." she finished quietly.
Still determined, she took another few steps down the hall. This time, a little boy with curly brown hair stuck his head out of a door and grinned at her. He was missing most of his teeth. Wordlessly, he gestured towards the end of the hall.
Bethany smiled at him, and then went on her way. She was at the very last door and about to knock, when it flew open and she fell inside, following her fist. Though the pillow and blanket fell to her feet, thankfully, a pair of strong arms caught her before she went down with them. When she looked up, blinking in surprise, she saw a set of bright green eyes looking back into her own.
Hastily, she pushed her savior away. "I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't know you'd be opening the door just as I knocked."
"Miss. English? Is that you? What are you doing in here? Shouldn't you be tucked inside your bed up at the house?"
Now, in the glow of the candlelight, Bethany recognized him as the same man she'd led to her father earlier that day. "I would prefer it if you didn't tell me where I should and shouldn't be, thank you."
"I'm just shocked that you're here." He looked down at the blanket and pillow. "Did your father kick you out?"
"Father? Kick me out?!" she asked, as if appalled that he'd even thought about it. "Of course not. I brought these for you since you have nothing."
"With all of my respect, Miss. English," he started, picking them up and placing them back into her arms. "I've slept outside in the middle of winter. I can handle sleeping in a warm room on an empty cot, trust me."
Bethany felt her face heating up. If she had bothered to walk all the way across the property, put up with nosy servants, then he was going to take the pillow and the blanket, and he was going to use them! Angrily, she shoved them into his chest. "Take them," she demanded. "You mustn't argue with me."
"I don't recall that as part of the job description," he replied, putting them once again her arms. "I don't need your sympathy, and I most certainly don't need your extra blankets. When I get my wages, I'll buy my own. Until then, I'll be fine. Besides, are you forgetting it's summer?"
"Of course I know it's summer," she told him, and that time, she walked over to the cot and placed them in the middle. "But I also know how chilly it gets at night."
"Let me guess... you couldn't sleep in your cozy bed thinking about me freezing out here. Oh, how you rich suffer... the guilt must be unbearable."
"That's it, Sam" she growled, walking back over to the bed and taking the blankets back. "Now you're not getting them at all!"
"Good, I don't want them... and my name is Steven, not Sam."
Bethany stared at him. The nerve of this man to refuse her good will and then insult her! "I'll call you whatever I want!" she yelled. "And you better pray to God I don't tell Father on you!"
Steven actually smiled. "Oh, don't worry, I will. Your father said I had to put up with the horses, not his snooty daughter!" he told her, putting his hand on her shoulder and turning her around the face the door. "Now go back to your mansion and leave me alone."
"Don't you dare call me snooty!" she screamed, but when she turned around, she realized he had already shut the door behind her.
No one had ever treated her in such a way, and she didn't know how to react. For a good minute, she just stared at his door, unable to believe it had actually happened. Then, she threw the blanket and pillow on the floor and stomped back down the hallway. She'd show him what it meant to be disrespectful toward Bethany English!
Chapter 3
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