Midvale
was always busiest when the sun was at it's fullest. Not that Midvale
was ever that busy- it was such a small town, and although it had
some reputable farms in the surrounding areas, it wasn't exactly the
biggest deal.
But
even those smaller crowds often got to be too much for Carter to
handle. He wasn't a morning person by any means, not by choice
anyway. But he already had to get up to take care of the horses as
the sun first peered into the sky. On days he had to go into town, he
just did everything faster to beat the midday crowd.
He
had been late today after one of the mares jumped the fence into the
wrong pasture. Carter was just lucky she hadn't broken the fence, or
he would probably still be back at his employer's farm.
Unfortunately
that meant now he could hear the rising chatter from the crowds from
the centre of the village, and he could feel his palms grow sweaty.
Clearing
his throat as if to ward off the tight feeling in his chest, Carter
turned back around. In front of him stood a tall, gorgeous mahogany
bay gelding. The horse watched him with the same anxiety Carter could
feel was creeping up on him.
"Do
you think that- um. That anyone is going to, um, come back for him?"
Carter asked without taking his eyes off the gelding.
He
could see from the corner of his eyes as his best friend, Whisper,
glanced up at the gelding. They stroked his neck in a reassuring
manner, and the gelding curved his neck as if responding to their
touch.
"No,"
they responded. "I don't think anyone will. Besides, even if
someone was looking for him, would they know where to look? You said
you thought he was a French Trotter, right?"
Carter
nodded, holding out a flat palm below the gelding's nose. "Right,"
he said, as the gelding cautiously stretched his neck forward. His
nostrils flared and Carter could feel his hot breath sweep over his
hand as the gelding sniffed him.
"You
know that nobody owns or breeds any French Trotters around her,"
Whisper pointed out. Carter finally glanced up at them, and found a
smile curling at their lips. "If they did, you know that Bazzoli
would make sure to be the next one to have them."
Bazzoli
was Carter's...boss. For lack of a better word. And Whisper was
right, Bazzoli always made sure that nobody ever had any stock he
didn't.
Slowly,
so he didn't scare the gelding, Carter lifted his hand to rest it on
the gelding's nose. The horse watched him apprehensively with those
large brown eyes of him, but he was considerably less tense then the
first time Carter had done that. "You were calling him, um,
Achille, right?"
Whisper
hummed. Carter could feel their gaze on him. "You know, I'd like
you to work with him. He's flighty and spooks a lot, but he's bored
too. He needs something to do." They sent a pointed glance at
the defined muscles in Achille's neck and legs, then back at Carter.
His
head jerked to look at her and Carter blinked, almost reeling back in
surprise. "What?" he asked, before furrowing his brow and
clearing his throat again. "Why, um, why don't you? He, um, he
likes you. And if you're going to, um, keep him..."
He
ducked his head at the soft smile curling on Whisper's lips. "But
he needs the training. I can sit on him, but you know how to ride
him. He needs the exercise mentally just as much as he needs it
physically."
Once
again, Carter glanced back towards he road that led to the centre of
Midvale. The buildings seemed to loom ominously, even with their
bright, joyous colours. The cobbled street was dusty and seemed to
stretch on for a lot long than Carter remembered. He could see the
crowds now, milling through the markets and the stalls set up for the
noon bustle.
If
he worked with Achille, it meant coming into town a lot more. Maybe
daily, and probably in the evening when he had a gap between his
chores.
He
could ask Bazzoli for a place to keep Achille, but then again, he
didn't have much faith in what might happen to the beautiful gelding
if Bazzoli got his hands all over him.
Not
that he didn't want to work with him. Carter had never worked with a
French Trotter, and Achille was a wonderfully proportioned horse. He
had power, and there was nothing Carter would love more then to learn
everything he could about him. But there was also nothing more Carter
didn't want then coming into town more than he had to already.
"I
know you hate the crowds," Whisper said softly, making Carter
turn back to look at them. He fussed with his hands, rubbing at his
nails to try to steady his pulse. "I can't keep him at the city
hall any more anyway, that was only a temporary thing. I'll find a
place to board him at one of the nearby farms. You can take Reese out
then. Didn't you say you wanted to ride her around more?"
"Yeah,
but-" Carter cut himself off him a sigh, looking down at his
hands. His thoughts whizzed around in his mind wildly and
incoherently. "Do you even have the money to do that? You
already have yourself and Koshar to, um, to take care of, Winnie.
It's not that I don't want to, um, I-I just-"
"-I
know." Whisper took their free hand and grabbed one of Carter's
hands. The touch was grounding and Carter let out a heavy breath. His
thoughts eased to a less frantic racing, though he still felt jitters
running through him like he's taken a dose of caffeine straight to
his veins.
He
didn't know what he would do if Whisper couldn't understand what
Carter, especially when he was saying something without saying
it.
Or if they were too scared to touch him when he started freaking out.
"All
I'm asking if for you to think about it," Whisper assured him,
rubbing soothing circles against the back of his hand. "Ask
Shiloh about it. Maybe you can work it out if you can talk to her."
Whisper let go of his hand, and stroked Achille's neck again. "How
is she, by the way?"
Carter
exhaled again, this time quietly, relieved for a change in subject.
His sister was another thing that anchored him back down, even if it
was just talking about what Shiloh had cooked for dinner.
"She's
good." Carter glanced at Achille, who seemed a little braver now
as he leaned his neck forward to sniff Carter's shoulder. Carter
smiled, but it only lasted a moment before his brows knitted again.
"I, um. I don't think it's anything to, um, worry about,"
Carter started, which was completely a lie because he was
worried
about it, "but she's been kinda. Um."
Whisper
watched him patiently with warm brown eyes. Achille nudged his
shoulder and immediately pulled back again, ears straight forward, as
if testing Carter. Carter reached out to give himself something to do
with his hands other then wringing them together, and rubbed
Achille's nose.
"You
know how, um, Shiloh's really bad about surprises and, um. Keeping
them a surprise. When she gets-" Carter gestured vaguely, but
Whisper nodded reassuringly.
"She's
probably trying to do something nice for you. Didn't she say that her
new job working with the caravans is going well?" Whisper asked,
gently steering the conversation into clear waters.
A
group of people walked by, and Carter suddenly realised that he had
to get back to Bazzoli's, his own aversion to people or no. Bazzoli
would get angry at Carter. And he'd already been mad earlier after
one of his prize mares jumped the fence.
"Yeah,"
Carter replied absently, still petting Achille. "Um, hey Winnie,
I-"
"-It's
okay," Whisper cut him off, and he sent them a grateful look.
"Go. I have to check on Koshar anyway. He's been pushing his
limits recently. You should stop by soon, he misses you. Sometimes I
think my cat loves you more than he loves me."
They
gently pulled on Achille's lead rope and the gelding stomped the
ground, before turning into the gesture. Carter picked up the basket
full of horse feed bags and hauled it over his shoulder onto his
back.
"Send
Shiloh my good wishes," Whisper called as Carter turned away. He
sent them a half-hearted wave.
A
sort of heaviness settled over him at the thought of returning back
to Bazzoli's and no doubt facing the consequences of his delay.
"Oh,
Carter?" he paused to look over his shoulder at Whisper, who
sent him a sweet smile that took some of the weight off his chest.
"Take care of yourself."
Carter
lingered for a moment, watching Whisper turn away with Achille and
headed down the cobblestone road. He could hear Achille’s
hooves clicking against the newly-redone street over the din of the
crowd. He could see onlookers turn their hands too,
He
turned back away, a strange and uneasy weight settling into his
stomach. Not that it was a new occurrence, Carter always felt uneasy.
But it was a different sort of feeling. He started rubbing his
fingers against his nails again.
The
smarter thing to do would have been to walk through the centre of
town, through the markets, and walk straight to the gates of Midvale.
It’d
be shorter too. But of course, Carter couldn’t
do anything the easy way.
It
made Shiloh worry, when Carter walked through alleyways. She always
warned him something was going to happen on day, when she wasn’t
around to protect him. Carter just made sure she didn’t
find out any more. He hated making her worry.
Besides,
everyone was in the market centre today. If there were any bandits,
wouldn’t
they be picking pockets in the market? What good did lingering in
alleys do for criminals anyway?
He
knew it was dumb of him to go through the alleys, he knew the kinds
of people they attracted. Especially since rumours of one of the
coteries in the area had been buzzing around town. But what could a
coterie want with a silly little town like Midvale?
A
lump rose in his throat as he walked through the narrow path,
squashed between the two-story houses and buildings. He kept his head
down, as if not seeing a threat might protect him from it.
He
came out on the southwest side of the market. A couple of people
drifted past him, and Carter instinctively curled in on himself
before glancing towards the market. He knew the best choice would be
to go through the crowds, but that didn’t
mean he wanted to.
But
he also didn’t
want to want to be later then necessary to find out how Bazzoli would
react. You’re
just overreacting. Nothing’s
going to happen if you go through the market. Look at all the people
walking through it right now. Stop being such a baby about it.
Carter
picked at the edges of his fraying shirt. Did he fear the crowds
more, or Bazzoli? He hunched his shoulders and pulled at a thread on
the hem of the shirt. He decided that, while there was more certainty
surrounding Bazzoli, there was also more fear buzzing like flies in a
cloud around him.
He
took a hesitant step towards the fray of stands so colourful it felt
like an assault on his eyes, towards all the people of different
class and colour. His heart crawled into his throat and thumped
wildly, like a wild animals trying to escape.
Everything
was twice as loud as he made his way through the crowd, twice as
bright, twice as hot. All the different scents of all the different
foods made his nose hurt, the taste of the hot and sticky air making
his throat clog. He tried to swallow around it several times and
failed.
His
body was so tense it made his muscles ache, and Carter flinched every
time someone touched him. He could see the end of the market place
however. He knew that just near the eastern entrance to Midvale, his
mare, Reese, waited patiently for him to return. That made him feel
marginally better.
All
he had to do was squeeze the rest of the way through the crowds, and
then it would be all over, and he could go back to the stables and be
with the horses. And then Shiloh would be home and they would have a
nice dinner and Carter wouldn’t
have to worry about rowdy crowds or Bazzoli’s
shouting.
It
would just be the two of them, just as it always was.
word count: 2,151
Points: 636
Reviews: 29
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