Rapunzelle: an Everland Ever After Tale Page 6

  And then, after he’d swung up on his own horse and clucked both animals into action, she forced herself to be positive. She was going riding! And she hadn’t even had to scheme with Briar to get out from her parents’ watchful gaze. She was going riding, and goodness horses certainly were taller than they’d appeared from the ground, weren’t they? But she was going riding, and she was determined to have fun.

  If only she was going with Dmitri, instead.

  “What is it, Meri?”

  Dmitri watched Doctor Carpenter touch his wife’s elbow, watched the older woman—still lovely, even with the lines around her eyes and mouth—turn to her husband. She was frowning, and for the first time, Dmitri realized how little Zelle looked like either of her parents. And not just because Zelle always seemed ready to break into a grin, while her mother had looked concerned since Dmitri had met her.

  Now, Mrs. Carpenter chewed on her bottom lip. “He’s going too fast. He should know better.”

  Dmitri’s attention swung back to the two horses trotting towards the meadow. From where he stood, Zelle seemed to sit straight in the saddle, but she was gripping the reins too hard. Was she inexperienced?

  “Roy Jr. should know better than to have her trot.” Max answered Dmitri’s unspoken question. “This is the first time she’s ridden, isn’t it?”

  Doctor Carpenter made noise of agreement, and Dmitri’s chest tightened. Her first time on a horse, and Max’s fool of a brother had started the animal trotting? Without thinking, he pulled himself up on the fence rail to better watch the couple. While not really paying attention to his companions, he heard Zelle’s father curse quietly under his breath.

  “She’s always looking for an adventure. But we told Roy Jr. that it was her first time on a horse. And she’s side-saddle! They should only be walking.”

  Mrs. Carpenter snorted disapprovingly, her attention still on her daughter. “He’s probably showing off how fast his mare is, when she doesn’t know the first thing about riding. He’s a show-off.” A pause. “No offence, Max.”

  “None taken. I’ve called him much, much worse.”

  Dmitri had stopped listening to the discussion when he’d seen Roy Jr. kick the thoroughbred into a canter, and saw Zelle’s horse trying to keep up. The durak probably didn’t even realize it; Zelle’s mare was well-trained to follow the lead horse’s example, if not given other commands by her rider.

  And from what Dmitri could see from his high perch, Zelle wasn’t in any state to give commands. Her frilly hat had blown off, and she’d thrown herself forward to hold the horse’s mane, rather than the reins. Had she dropped them, or just needed a better grip? He was sure she was terrified, if this was her first experience riding.

  And then he’d stopped thinking, because Roy, Jr. had kicked his horse into a gallop. Max cursed, but Dmitri didn’t see why. He’d already leapt from the fence rail and was rushing across the corral. The other mare—coiled and ready—sensed his urgency. When he grabbed her mane and swung up onto her back, she sprang forward. He’d grown up on the backs of horses, and knew how to ride without stirrups, without a bridle. And Zelle needed him.

  With an Old-Russian shout his grandfather taught him as a boy, he kicked the mare into motion, and she responded beautifully. With a powerful surge, she leapt forward. He tucked his knees up, locked his elbows in place, and leaned over her neck just as she gathered her hindquarters under her and vaulted over the corral fence.

  Dmitri heard Doctor Carpenter’s “What the—?” and Mrs. Carpenter’s scream, but then he was past, racing towards the meadow. He saw Roy Jr., a distant speck on his own mare, and Zelle behind. As Dmitri rushed closer, reveling at the power in Max’s horse, he watched Zelle swaying alarmingly from side to side. She’d never ridden before, and now her horse was moments from breaking into a gallop? He had to reach her first.

  Even the joy, the freedom, of being on the back of such a magnificent animal wasn’t going to distract Dmitri. At this moment, the only part of this horse that interested Dmitri was her speed, and he urged her even faster, not caring if his eyeballs jolted from their sockets. He had to reach her!

  When he was close enough to call to her—which he did—Zelle’s own horse gave into her rider’s mixed commands, and began to gallop. When he was close enough to see her tension in her shoulders, Zelle began to tilt too far to one side. And when he was close enough to grab her, she lost her grip on the mare, and was launched through the air.

  It was simultaneously the most thrilling and most terrifying thing she’d ever done. Who would’ve thought that riding a horse—something that everyone around her seemed to do on a regular basis—could be so stimulating? At first, Zelle had just enjoyed being so high up, feeling the gait of the animal beneath her, getting used to the strange rocking motion. But when her horse began to jog—and why would it do that, without her telling it to?—she became less at-ease.

  She considered calling to Roy, Jr., to tell him to slow down. It didn’t take long to realize that her horse was following his, and that he was intent on showing off. Maybe he thought that Papa still wanted to buy it? But then her animal began to jog harder—or whatever the horsey name for this jolting irregular motion was called—and she forgot about chastising him. Forgot about everything except holding on for all that she was worth.

  The faster she sped across the meadow, the harder her heart raced. This would be ideal, would be one of the highlights of her life, were she not so scared. Realizing that, she laughed aloud, which seemed to startle the horse into going even faster. That’s when she exhaled, closed her eyes, and began to pray.

  The horse rocked her from side to side, and she felt her knee—why did someone think that sideways was a good way to ride a horse?—losing its grip, and scrambled to hold on… And then a mighty jolt, and her foot came out of the stirrup. With deepening dread, she felt herself leaning too far to the right, away from that silly little horn her leg had been hooked around. She swallowed her scream as she slipped off completely. A moment of weightlessness…

  She slammed into something hard. The ground? Then why did she still feel like she was flying?

  Zelle opened her eyes to find herself staring up at Dmitri’s chin. He’d pulled her from her horse? She was sitting in his lap, still sideways, but infinitely more comfortable. His thighs cushioned hers better than that stupid saddle had, and his arms cradled her. He was bent forward, intent on whatever was ahead of them, but Zelle didn’t care. She wanted to touch him, to thank him for saving her.

  He was her hero-prince.

  With a sudden laugh at her foolishness, she turned to see what had caused that little frown between his eyes. And caught her breath. He was riding without reins, without a bridle. His fingers were wrapped through the mare’s mane, and he was gently turning her back towards the DeVille ranch using only his touch. His gentle, compelling touch.

  He’d ridden to save her, and now she felt utterly, utterly protected. She was having an adventure. With another laugh, she threw her arms out and leaned back against him and kept laughing. The wind whipped the little hairs around her face, pushing them back with their much longer neighbors, and she grinned just to feel the rush of cold air on her teeth.

  How amazingly thrilling.

  This was riding, this was an adventure. The way she felt here, being held by him, riding with him, was much, much better than anything she could’ve felt alone on that silly horse. Anything she’d felt before, ever.

  She’d have to ask Briar if it was normal to feel this breathless atop a horse, or if it was just because she was in his arms. Zelle was pretty sure she already knew the answer.

  Laughing again, she pressed herself back against his strong chest, felt the muscles of his upper arms tighten around her, and reveled in the marvelous excitement, the perfect safety, she felt in his arms.

  She was breathtaking. From the moment he’d pulled her off her runaway horse and onto his lap, Dmitri had felt a rightness. He tried to tell himself that it was ju
st the aftermath, knowing she was safe after so many heart-pounding moments when he wasn’t sure if he’d get to her in time. But no, he knew the truth; having her here in his arms was what made his heart slow, his shoulders relax, his head clear. Taking a big lungful of air scented by her strawberry goodness, he knew.

  It was her. She was the one who made it feel so right.

  Did she know how close she’d come to disaster? Being thrown from a galloping horse was no joke; he’d seen men die that way. But either she didn’t know, or didn’t care, because practically the first thing she did after landing in his arms—after looking up at him like he was her savior—was to laugh. Laugh, and throw her arms wide open and face the racing wind and revel in it.

  Her sheer joy left him breathless. She had no idea how hard it was to control a spirited animal without stirrups, without a bridle; had no idea how he was struggling to keep his weight even and centered while he slowed the mare to a trot. All she knew was joy. And having her pressed against him, knowing that he could keep her safe and happy…that caused an odd sort of joy in him, too. One that he’d never experienced before.

  One that he wanted to experience again.

  He wanted to give her adventures. He wanted to show her things that would make her this joyful, in the hopes that some of it would be shared with him. He wanted to bring her joy.

  He exhaled when he realized what he was thinking.

  When the horse had slowed enough that he could point her back towards the cluster of stables and barns, Dmitri glanced behind him, enough to discover that Roy, Jr. had peeled away in the opposite direction, and Zelle’s horse had followed behind. His own thoroughbred would make it back to the corral in excellent time, and he could drop her off with her parents and send them home before he got any other crazy ideas.

  Doctor Carpenter had no suggestions about the next step in Dmitri’s search. There was nothing more for him to learn here in Everland. He’d failed his father, failed in the mission, unless there was anything left to be learned in New York City. Either way, he’d be leaving Everland soon. Forever.

  If only her father had given him some news, some hint, some lead. Something to keep him here. But no, there was no reason for Dmitri to stay.

  Nyet, there was one very good, very compelling reason to stay, and she was sitting on his lap reveling in the freedom of being atop a powerful horse. But it wasn’t enough; as much as he wanted to stay in Everland, to spend time with her, to make her joyful, to compromise her, it would be wrong. He had to go home, to his horses.

  To his father’s dead dreams.

  He couldn’t spend any more time with her.

  “Come walking with me tomorrow?”

  Had he imagined her question? He’d been caught up in his own thoughts, convincing himself why he couldn’t court her. But had she just invited him out instead? So his “Chto?” probably sounded a little confused. “I mean, what?”

  “Will you come walking with me tomorrow afternoon? I can see Papa and Mother from here; they’re frowning. They’ll bundle me into the surrey before I even have a chance to retrieve my bonnet, I’ll bet, and I won’t have a chance to talk to you. But I want to!” She took a deep breath, and he tried not to feel the way her sides—the thin cotton and the corset beneath—pressed against his upper arms tantalizingly. “I want to ask you all about horses, and your farm back in Russia, and your search here, and… Oh, everything!” She peeked up at him, her cheeks dimpling slightly. “And I can’t do that, unless you come walking with me. Tomorrow afternoon. I’ll meet you at the inn.”

  And looking down at her, there was absolutely nothing Dmitri could say besides, “Da. All right.”

  Her smile made any confusion worth it, and he knew he’d made the right decision. And after he’d swung her down into her mother’s arms and her father’s stern gaze, and watched them hustle her into the carriage, and clucked at the mare to return to the stable, he was glad that she’d asked. Because suddenly, he wanted to talk to her, to spend time with her. To have something to think about besides how perfectly she fit in his arms. To see other examples of how she so joyfully embraced life.

  He couldn’t wait.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “What an ordeal!”

  “It wasn’t an ordeal, Papa, it was an adventure.”

  “Still, I think you should go upstairs and rest for the next few days.”

  “What? I’m not a child. I don’t need to rest for a few days. You’re just trying to lock me away again.”

  “We worry about you, Zelle. It almost killed your father to see you in that much danger.”

  “Mother, I—“

  “And I won’t have you around that man again.”

  “Roy, Jr.? I don’t particularly want to be around him again either. He’s a braggart.”

  “I mean that Russian. I saw the way he looked at you, and he was holding you entirely too close.”

  “Dmitri? He saved me! Mother, talk some sense into—“

  “You’ll not work us against each other, young lady. I think your father’s right. Upstairs, this instant.”

  Zelle had only sighed and managed not to stomp up the stairs. And once she was in her room, she very carefully did not slam the door, no matter how much she wanted to. She was going to be eighteen soon. She was a grown woman, and her parents had no right to order her around like this.

  Oh the other hand, she did live with them. It wasn’t like she had her own home, or even—she sighed again as she pulled off her shoes and threw herself facedown across her bed—a husband and family. She didn’t want a husband and family…she just wanted a little freedom. A chance to come and go as she pleased, like Briar did.

  Buuuuuttttt… On the other hand, the reason she had no interest in getting married was that she’d never met a man she wanted to marry. Because she hadn’t been allowed to. Even at the weekly church picnics—which she could only attend if one of her parents went—Papa loomed over her, making it difficult to talk to any boys. Max DeVille wasn’t intimidated by her father, but he didn’t count; he teased and charmed and treated her like a little girl as well. For goodness’ sakes; Merrell Gruff had been her ideal, in terms of kissability!

  But then she’d met a Russian duke. Prince. Whatever.

  And he’d kissed her…or she’d kissed him. And then she spent time talking to him, and again in his arms. And now… Goodness. Now she just didn’t know what she thought of marriage. The good Lord knew that she didn’t mind spending time with Dmitri; she’d spent every evening thinking about the tall, handsome Russian man.

  Zelle groaned and rolled over, pulling her braid out from under her rear end and throwing her forearm across her face.

  Now that Dmitri knew that Papa couldn’t help him, he’d surely be going back East. That’s what he’d said to Max. So it wasn’t like she had a chance at a future with him, anyhow. It was just that meeting him had shown her that maybe marriage was a viable option when it came to finding ways to get out from under her well-meaning parents’ well-meaning control. Maybe marriage—if it was to the right man—could be an adventure greater than she’d ever imagined?

  Maybe that was her answer.

  She had to chuckle at herself. A few days ago, she’d been convinced that to kiss Merrell Gruff would be the greatest adventure, and now look at her! She was considering finding a boy to marry.

  It was that thought—marriage—that had her pacing the rest of the afternoon. Her mother came upstairs before dinner with a tray, and mentioned that both she and Papa had been called by patients. Mrs. Muffit had finally begun to labor, and Mr. B.G. Foote at the livery needed something for his gout immediately, so they didn’t know how long they’d be gone.

  Mother didn’t seem surprised to see Zelle curled up in the window seat with her herb journal and calendar, plotting out next season’s plantings. She was smart enough to know that a strong young lady wasn’t going to languish in bed all day just because she’d been saved from a runaway horse by a brave hero-prince. But
Mother did place the tray on the desk, and come over to squeeze beside Zelle. When she put her arms around Zelle’s shoulders, the girl leaned into her embrace.

  After a long moment, Mother kissed the back of her head. “I remember when I first realized how fast your hair grew. I couldn’t believe it. You were helping me make biscuits the first time I braided it.” Zelle’s parents had never made any secret of the fact that Mother hadn’t actually given birth to her, but they’d long ago told her that they didn’t want to discuss their pasts. So Papa’s first wife remained a mystery, but Zelle didn’t care. Mother was her mother in every way that counted.

  “All I can remember is screaming when you used to plait it.”

  A little chuckle. “It certainly was a blessing, once you got old enough to brush your own hair.” She stroked Zelle’s long braid. “And soon it’ll be time to cut it again.” Her mother cut her hair every year on her birthday, the first of August. Chop it off at her shoulders, send the braid off to a wig-maker, and it would be near her rear again by the following year.

  But Zelle was realizing that she’d go batty if she had to live here, with their loving, over-protective ways, another year. “I think that next year, I’ll cut it myself.”

  Mother seemed to understand. She always did. “So this is my last year cutting my little princess’s hair?” She sighed, and then pulled Zelle closer. The girl didn’t mind, and rested her head against her mother’s shoulder. “I’ve been dreading that day, honeybear, but knew it would come.”

  Her mother’s old nickname for her made Zelle smile. “I have to grow up sometime, Mother.”

  “I know. We know. Your father and I… We’ve spent so many years worrying about you.” But why did they seem to worry more about her than other parents worried about their children? “The worry, that concern, is such a big part of our lives, that it seems…odd to think of you as all grown up.” Mother sighed, and it reminded Zelle of all the childhood evenings she’d spent curled up on her mother’s lap, listening to her heartbeat. “I suppose soon you’ll be thinking about getting married and starting a family like all the other girls your age.”