Red Roses Mean Love

herself, let alone four children. Callie was only six! And Nathan and Andrew needed her. Pamela, too.

The shadow moved closer and her entire body went liquid with relief. A horse, she realized. It was merely a horse.

Winston laid a callused hand on her shoulder. 'Don't you worry none, Miz Hayley. If there's somethin' evil afoot here, I'll not let any harm come to ya. I promised yer Pa, God rest his soul, that I'd protect ya and protect ya I will.' He puffed out his massive chest. 'If there's a bandit about, I'll break his scrawny neck. I'll yank out his gizzards with me bare hands and tie the blighter up with his own innards. I'll-'

Hayley cut off the grisly diatribe with a dry cough. 'Thank you, Winston, but I don't think that will be necessary. In fact, it appears our 'bandit' is nothing more than a riderless horse.'

Grimsley scratched the top of his head and discovered his glasses perched on his bald pate. Adjusting the spectacles on the bridge of his nose, he peered once again into the darkness.

'Why look at that. A horse. Standing in the middle of the road. Imagine that.'

'Miz Hayley just said that, ya cretin,' Winston grumbled. 'Although I'm surprised ya managed to see the beast before it bit yer bony arse.'

Almost giddy with relief, Hayley smothered a chuckle and chose to ignore Winston's language. Before either servant could assist her, she jumped down from her seat and approached the animal with caution. He was huge, but she had yet to meet the horse she couldn't charm. When she reached his side, she grabbed the reins trailing over his saddle.

'How beautiful you are,' she crooned, reaching out to stroke the stallion's velvety nose. 'The finest horse I've ever seen, and I've seen and cared for many. Why are you out here all alone? Who do you belong to?'

The animal nuzzled her palm and nickered. She stroked the magnificent beast's glossy black mane, allowing him to get used to her scent.

When the horse's breathing slowed, she called softly, 'Grimsley, bring a lantern, if you please. And Winston, hold the reins while I look the animal over.'

'Look here,' she said moments later, crouching down. 'His right foreleg is bleeding.' Hayley touched the injury, with gentle fingers. The stallion jerked his head up and down and tried to step away, but Winston held him fast.

'Is it bad?' Grimsley asked, peeking over Hayley's shoulder.

'No, thank goodness. He needs treatment, but his leg is not broken.' She straightened and took the lantern from Grimsley. A series of scratches ran along the horse's left flank, and his tail was full of leaves and twigs.

'It looks as if he ran pell-mell through a thicket,' Hayley mused. 'He's a beautiful animal, and obviously well cared for. These scratches are fresh and he is saddled, but there are no homes for miles around. His rider must have been thrown.' She turned toward the woods. Peering into the inky darkness, she pressed a hand to her knotted stomach and forced back her apprehension. 'We must search for this fellow. He could be seriously injured.'

Grimsley's eyes widened behind his spectacles. He swallowed audibly. 'A search? Here? Now?'

'No, ya moldy old coot,' Winston said with a snort. 'Next week.'

Grimsley ignored him. 'But it's so dark, Miss Hayley, and we're already hours late getting home because we had to fix the gig's wheel. Everyone's probably worried-'

'So another quarter hour will not matter,' Hayley broke in, her tone crisp. God knew she wanted nothing more than to get home, but how could she leave, knowing someone may need aid? She couldn't. Her conscience would eat her alive.

Filled with resolve, she asked, 'How can we possibly leave without checking? The fact that such a fine animal is wandering about, scratched and bleeding and riderless, is a sure indication that something is amiss. Someone may be in desperate need of help.'

'But what if the horse belongs to a murderer or robber?' Grimsley asked in a weak, quivering voice.

Hayley patted the old man's hand. 'I doubt it, Grimsley. Murderers and robbers rarely possess such fine horses. And who would they hope to murder or rob on this deserted stretch of road?'

Grimsley cleared his throat. 'Us?'

'Well, if he is hurt, he cannot do much damage, and if he is unharmed, we shall simply return his horse to him and be on our merry way.' She leveled a meaningful, penetrating look on her companions. 'Besides, after what happened to Mama and Papa, you two know better than anyone that I could never forgive myself if I left someone who is sick or injured.'

Winston and Grimsley both fell silent and nodded. Turning her attention back to the stallion, Hayley ran her hand down the animal's sweating neck.

'Is your rider here? Is he hurt?' she asked softly. The stallion pawed the ground and whinnied, his nostrils flaring. She glanced at Winston and Grimsley. 'Horses have very good homing instincts. Let's see if he leads us anywhere.'

Before either man could stop her, Hayley hitched up her skirt, placed her booted foot into the stirrup, and swung into the saddle. It was a good thing she was taller than most men as the horse was the largest she'd ever encountered.

'Please fetch the supply bag from the gig, Winston. We need to be prepared. Grimsley, you carry the lantern.'

With the ease of an accomplished rider, Hayley touched her heels to the horse's flanks. The animal seemed to have a definite destination in mind and showed no hesitancy. They traveled parallel to the road for approximately half a mile, then turned and moved deeper into the dark woods. Holding the reins loosely, Hayley surveyed the area with sharp eyes while Winston and Grimsley followed behind, arguing all the while.

'Fling me on the poop deck and strip me to my skivvies,' Winston growled. 'Step up the pace, ya old bag o' bones. I won't be stoppin' to haul yer wheezin' arse along. I'll be leavin' ya here to rot.'

'I can keep up just fine,' Grimsley puffed. 'I am simply minding my new footwear.'

'Don't want no scratches on yer prissy shoes, do ya?' Winston sneered. 'God save me from fussy old butlers. Worse than bleedin' babies.'

'I was Captain Albright's personal valet-'

'Yeah, yeah. And I was 'is right hand, God rest 'is soul. You tell me which is more important.'

'A valet, of course.' He sniffed loudly. 'And at least I don't smell.'

A chuckle escaped Winston. 'You do now, old Grimmy. Best mind yer shoes a bit better when yer walkin' behind a horse!'

Their voices droned on, but Hayley ignored them and concentrated on her surroundings. The forest was darker than the inside of a cloak. Leaves crunched beneath the horse's hooves. An owl hooted nearby, nearly stopping her heart. Surely she must be mad to have embarked on this excursion. But what choice did she have? She closed her eyes and imagined Nathan or Andrew, hurt and alone. God knows she'd want someone to aid her brothers. She couldn't leave until she knew if anyone needed her help-even if the effort scared her witless.

Several minutes later the horse stopped. Nickering softly, he pawed the ground and laid his ears back. Hayley dismounted, took the lamp from Grimsley and held it aloft, bathing the surrounding area with a soft, golden glow. They stood on some sort of precipice. She walked to the edge and peered down, her gaze traveling the length of a steep rocky slope. The gentle gurgle of a stream rose from below.

Grimsley peered over her shoulder and gingerly wiped his shoe on a patch of grass. 'Do you see anything, Miss Hayley?'

'No. There's a steep bank and I hear a stream…' Her voice trailed off as a low groan drifted up to them.

'Wh-what was that?' Grimsley whispered in a shaky voice.

'It's just the wind, ya crusty old coot,' Winston said, his voice laced with disgust.

Hayley pressed her hand to her stomach and shook her head. 'No. Listen.'

Another groan, barely audible but still unmistakable, floated up from the darkness below.

'There's someone down there,' Hayley said, her voice grim. Without a thought for herself, she started down the steep slope. Halfway down she lifted the lantern, arcing a beam of light toward the stream.

And she saw him.

Lying facedown, the lower half of his body submerged in the water, was a man. A cry of alarm escaped her. Hayley half ran, half slid down the slope, ignoring the sharp rocks and twigs tearing at her clothing and skin.