Misplaced (78 page)

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Authors: SL Hulen

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W
ell, that’s a first.”

“What?”

“A woman with nothing to say.”

She
w
as confounded. “I came to see the horses.”

He
pointed
to
Almos.
“His
name
means
‘The
Dreamt
One.


The
big
bay
tossed
his
head
at
the
sight
of
the
bag
of
oats
slung
o
v
er
Oli
v
e
r
’s
shoulder.

Y
ou
must
be
a
friend
of
Celeste’s,”
he
commente
d
a
s
h
e
mo
v
e
d
to
w
ar
d
th
e
stall
,
fillin
g
th
e
bucket
wit
h
oat
s
whil
e
Khar
a
admire
d
ho
w
hi
s
presenc
e
seeme
d
to
comfort the horses.

“I’m a friend of her niece’s. Do you know Bea?”

Only by reputation. She’s the apple of her auntie’s e
y
e.”

She
stroked
the
horse’s
neck.
“Chris
is
going
to
teach
me
to
ride.”

“I
coul
d
sho
w
you,

h
e
rushe
d
t
o
say
,
an
d
the
n
laughed
nervously.
“I
mean,
Chris
is
al
w
ays
so
busy.
W
e
could
go
this
mo
rning,
if
y
o
u

d
like.
I
pr
om
i
s
ed
Cele
s
te
I

d
ti
d
y
the
arena,
but
I can do it later. It’s a good morning for a ride.”

“I
n
Egypt
,
w
e
d
o
no
t
rid
e
horses,

sh
e
explained
,
looking
sheepishl
y
a
t
th
e
strong
,
cur
v
e
d
back
s
o
f
th
e
animal
s
and
wondered
how
the
idea
had
escaped
them.
A
w
are
that
Oli
v
er
w
as staring at her, she suddenly felt
w
arm. “
Y
ou look different
from the others here.”

“M
y
mothe
r
i
s
Mescaler
o
Apache

h
e
admitted
,
hi
s
face
seemin
g
t
o
ligh
t
fro
m
within
.
“M
y
grandmothe
r
say
s
I
ha
v
e
my
mothe
r
’s
features
and
my
fathe
r
’s
coloring.
The
only
thing
harder
than
being
Nati
v
e American
is
to
be
only
half,”
he
told
her
,
almos
t
apologetic
.
“Bu
t
it’
s
no
t
lik
e
yo
u
ha
v
e
a
choic
e
in
these things.”

“The
combination
suits
you.
V
ery
w
ell,
in
fact.”
She
found
it impossible to keep from staring into his e
y
es. “I am Khara.”

“That’
s
a
sombe
r
nam
e
fo
r
suc
h
a
beautifu
l
girl
.
Ar
e
you
serious about taking your first
riding lesson?”

Sh
e
nodded
,
an
d
Oli
v
e
r
grinne
d
an
d
le
d
th
e
ba
y
ou
t
o
f
th
e
stall
.
Grabbin
g
a
blanket
,
h
e
tosse
d
i
t
o
v
e
r
Almos’
s
back
,
and
then
slo
w
ly
ran
his
rough
hands
up
and
down
each
of
the
horse’
s
leg
s
i
n
a
manne
r
tha
t
fille
d
Khar
a
wit
h
unspeakable
envy
.
W
it
h
a
slow
,
cal
m
voic
e
h
e
quiete
d
th
e
anima
l
and
lo
w
ered the heavy saddle onto its back.

“It’s
been
a
while
since
I’
v
e
taken
him
out,
so
w
e

ll
let
him
fee
l
th
e
w
eigh
t
o
f
th
e
saddl
e
o
n
hi
s
bac
k
an
d
ge
t
use
d
t
o
us.
Apache
don’t
use
saddles,”
he
said
of
the
wonderful-smelling
leather contraption.

Oli
v
e
r
sho
w
e
d
he
r
tha
t
tw
o
finger
s
w
er
e
use
d
t
o
measure
if
the
saddle
had
been
pulled
tight
enough,
and
how
she
must
al
w
ay
s
approac
h
fro
m
th
e
left
.
H
e
swun
g
himsel
f
int
o
the
saddle to show her how to get up.

“I wish to try,” she insisted.

“No
t
o
n
thi
s
ba
d
boy
.
I
don’
t
w
an
t
t
o
thin
k
wha
t
Celeste
would
do
if
anything
happened
to
you,”
he
admitted,
looking
down as color flooded
his cheeks.

Are you staying long?”

“A few days, perhaps.”

“Too
bad,”
he
said
quietly.
“I

ll
saddle
Lucy
up
and
w
e

ll
be
on our
w
ay.”

Whe
n
Oli
v
e
r
w
en
t
t
o
anothe
r
stall
,
Khar
a
bat
t
le
d
th
e
sudden
urg
e
t
o
follo
w
him
.
Instead
,
sh
e
mo
v
e
d
outsid
e
th
e
bar
n
to
imprint
fore
v
er
on
her
mind
the
penetrating
green
of
the
trees,
the oculus of blue they formed o
v
erhead.

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