Lost Island by Phyllis A. Whitney

Author:Phyllis A. Whitney
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Road Media Romance
Published: 2017-09-28T14:08:15+00:00

8

When we got back to Sea Oaks we found Richard on his pony, Starlight, with Aunt Amalie putting him through his paces. She stood at the side of the practice ring that had been cut out of trees at a little distance from the house, and directed the young rider with crisp, no-nonsense orders. There was no indulgence, it seemed, when it came to something like being a good horseman.

Nearby Floria and Paul stood watching. Floria wore slacks and a cotton blouse of a particularly poisonous green. Giles and I joined them, and she threw us a quick searching look. Aunt Amalie greeted us with a smile and then returned her interest to Richard and his pony.

For me the scene was achingly familiar. When I was young, the one thing I had hated about Hampton Island was the riding. Everyone there rode well, except me. My mother had ridden when she was young, and she had considered it a disgrace that I was slightly afraid of horses. Amalie had always been the best horsewoman, with Elise running her a close second, even as a young girl. No one could quite match Aunt Amalie in a saddle. She looked marvelous on the back of her mount, and she was always in full command. Floria was expert too, but she rode recklessly to suit herself.

“Sit up straight,” Aunt Amalie called to Richard. “And don’t forget to keep your heels down and away from the pony.” She turned to Giles impatiently. “The boy doesn’t take to the simplest fundamentals. He seems to forget from one lesson to the next.” Then she turned back to Richard. “Let’s see you trot around the ring now. And I want some good posting.”

Richard rode grimly, as if he hated it. His grip was too tight on the reins, and his posting unrhythmic, uncertain. How well I remembered! Aunt Amalie’s training had made a moderately good rider of me, but I’d never really enjoyed it, and now Richard, growing up in the midst of everyday riding, was taking after me.

He trotted all the way around the ring, and then tried, a simple canter, looking as though he was terrified of falling off.

Paul had drawn Giles away from the ring and was talking to him about some matter at the plant. Aunt Amalie was concentrating solely upon the young rider and his pony. I stood alone with Floria.

“Why did you run away from us on Palmetto Island?” I asked.

She thrust her thumbs under her leather belt and turned slowly away from the ring to look at me. “So it was you who came into the Barretts’ cabin? You and Giles, I suppose?”

I nodded. “He took me there in his boat. He wanted to look in on the house while the Barretts were away.”

“I didn’t know it was you,” she said. “Though I think I’d have tried to get away anyway. Don’t say anything about my being there, will you?”

“Not if you’d rather I didn’t,” I agreed. “Though I don’t understand why.

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