“Are you hurt?”
“No.” Subtly she touched her ears, relived that her earrings were still in-situ.
“Oh Ron, yet again!” He growled.
“It was my fault entirely, I wasn’t looking where I was going, and I should have been.”
“Don’t make excuses for him, he should know better.” He looked back at her, his eyebrows rising. “Oh no, your jumper.”
It was only then that she noticed the pure white wool of her jumper was caked in dirt.
“Oh.” She laughed softly. “No harm done.” Carefully she picked straw from her hair.
“Are you alright, love?” Ron sauntered over, cheeky smile in full bloom.
“You’re an idiot, Ron.” Steve snapped. “What the blazes did you think you were doing?!”
“Gentlemen, please…”
Ron, at recognising Serena too, was immediately apologetic. “I didn’t mean it or nuffink, I didn’t see ya.”
Serena shook her head. “As I say, no harm done; it’ll dry and brush out, I’m sure.”
“How many times has the Colonel warned you about bringing that blasted thing through here?! You know it frightens the horses!”
Ron bowed his head slightly. “Sorry again.” He spoke softly to Serena before glaring at Steve and skulking away.
“He never learns.” Steve shook his head in disbelief.
“It was an accident.” Serena went to brush some grit down and off her sleeve.
“Careful.” He stopped her. “You’re bleeding.”
She raised her eyebrows at the long, bloodied graze on her right arm, through the
plucked stitches. ”Ah. It’s nothing, just a little scratch.”
“We need to get something on that right away.”
“Really, there’s no need; I do not wish to inconvenience anyone.” She’d barely finished the sentence as Steve led her into the farmhouse; she turned her eyes skyward. “Oh help me.” She begged inwardly.
“Sluggs?” Steve called.
“Please, this really isn’t necessary.”
Slugger appeared in the kitchen doorway. “What’s the matta, son?”
“This is Serena, she’s hurt her arm; Ron practically knocked her over coming through the gate.”
“It’s just a scratch, really.”
“Sit down here.” Slugger motioned to the chair in front of him. “Sorry about Ron, miss…’e don’t me no ‘arm.”
Despite her unease, Serena smiled. “Serena, please. I realise that, it was my doing at any rate. You’re so kind to be doing this.”
A few minutes later, Serena, (arm cleaned and a coat of Germolene applied!), was back outside with Steve. She had taken her place in the nook by the donkey pen and was sweeping as they talked, despite Steve’s protests that she needn’t do so, it wasn’t her job but Serena assured him otherwise, claiming that if her jumper did get any dirtier no-one would notice!
“I live in London; I’m from around here originally.” She named the tiny village next over from Tockwith. “Just visiting for a few weeks, family.” She sighed wistfully. “The hills are so beautiful; I spent many a day walking them over the years.”
“I‘ve noticed you up here a couple of times with your dog.”
“Meg? Yes, usually she doesn’t follow me all the way; she did the other day but well...”
She smiled apologetically as she looked up at him. “What happened to that horse, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“He died.”
Serena’s lips pursed sympathetically as she paused in her work and absently stroked Smokey. “I am sorry.” Her eyes flashed with a sort of angered sadness. “I heard the young lady saying at the time he was suffering. How could anyone allow it, it’s beyond me!”
“I know.” He looked up at her, recognising the same expression of incredulity that both he and Dora were known for.
They continued to talk for some time mostly Follyfoot and other neutral subjects, briefly touching on Steve’s working there and his zeal in regards to horses though nothing more; Steve was usually guarded around people but there was something about Serena that put him at ease, they actually seemed to have something in common.
“It’s nice, you know?” She looked up at him, briefly resting her chin on her hands that lay curved across the broom handle’s top. “To hear that someone cares for them; so many just…throw them away, for wont of a better phrase, when they are deemed useful no longer.” Her heart squeezed as a memory and feelings collided in her chest.
“A second chance, as Dora says…well, we all do.”
“Well, thank goodness for that is all I can say.” She smiled, pushing the flash of melancholic thought aside.
Serena, too, felt at ease with this wise stable-hand; she cocked her head and watched him for a moment. She could not fathom it at all but this place, him…it was oddly natural, calming her in a way she’d not felt for…well, a long time.
Her sixth sense came to life then and she twitched protectively then a few minutes later,
her ears pricked up at a distant sound that reminded her of how things were different now…
“I should get back.” She leant the fork and broom up in their places again.
“Okay. Thanks for your help, you didn’t have to. Sorry again about earlier.”
“I didn’t mind at all and please don’t apologise.” Steve walked her to the gate; she carefully helped him close it behind her. “Actually, I should be thanking you for everything you did and for letting me help.”
He smiled bashfully. “Would you come back?” He asked softly, surprising both himself and her.
She looked back at him. “I’d like that.” A shy, sort of half-smile crossed her mouth. “See you soon, then.”
As she left, Steve turned thoughtful; what had made him ask something like that, that was most certainly out of character for him and something else had caught his eye. Earlier on, he had noticed the subtle gesture…she was a mystery alright.