White Gate Heart

•Chapter Six•

My breath and pace quickened as the barn came into sight. The evening's lights were dimming in the sky, and I was intending on finishing my job. 

Jamie whinnied and rolled her eyes at the sound of my thudding footsteps fast approaching. It reminded me to slow my pace around horses, especially a frightened one as Jamie. 

Grasping the thin rope resting on the fence board, I opened the gate slowly, my heart throbbing in it's chest. The panic in Jamie was obvious, as she snorted and pawed the ground, backing herself into a corner of her paddock. Yet again, I was faced with an exhausting task that involved Jamie. The mare attempted to push her rear into the fence. It was as if she thought she could dissapear by backing up as hard as she tried.
"Shh, Jamie. This will not harm you. I won't harm you, ever," I whispered softly. I felt a spark of hope ignite in myself as she quit flattening her ears. Her body remained tense, glued to the fence post, however.
Her heavy snorts of panic calmed to a mere sigh here and there. I outstretched my hand slowly, the knots of nerves twisting and writhing in my stomach.
Jamie's front hoof took a positive step towards my hand, investigating it from a ways away.
Suddenly, the horrific sound of a dog's bark destroyed any hope I had of placing a rope around Jamie. Without warning, the mare spasmed and lashed out with her front legs. Her pinned ears and wide eyes came within inches of my face, her snorts threatening and quite frightening. I backed away slowly, but not quick enough to move out of a panicked Jamie's path.
Charging, she bumped her rough shoulder blade into mine. The pain took my breath away. I could almost feel a bruise forming on my bony shoulder, and shocks of flashing, hot pain omitted from it. Looking up from my shoulder, I saw an empty paddock. Jamie had jumped the fence and fled. I glanced upon the farm fields, hoping desperately that she would be able to find. With my great misfortune, she wasn't.

"Well isn't that terrific!" I huffed to myself.

"What is?" a curious voice questioned behind me.

There stood Mark Adams, this time irking my nerves. I stomped over to where he sat lazily on the fence board.

"Get back in the barn, if Father finds you, both you and I are better off dead!" I whispered angrily. If one of the servants happened to hear me talking to myself loudly, it'd be far too suspicious. 

He grinned at my fluster. Does he think that I would fool about a situation as dangerous as this? He was a patriot and we were a loyalist family, my Father could punish him for anything he pleased, and I wouldn't hear the end of it.

"You don't think I know that your father would be angered by my presence? Trust me Bekah, I know he would. You can't expect me to sit up in a barn loft without moving or talking to anybody," he replied, chewing on a straw, twiddling it between his thumb and index finger.

"I expect you to stay silent, yes, because it'll be grave consequence to me, not just you. So if you value a friendship with me then you would march yourself back into the barn's loft and leave in the morning without a peep! Understand?" After the last sentence, I took a deep breath. Mark's face contorted into hurt at first, but he ducked his head with a smile.

"Yes mad'am," he bowed mockingly, then ducked into the shadows of the barn silently, leaving me with my own frustration. 

 Restraining myself from growling, I stomped out of the paddock. There was a much bigger problem than Mark; Jamie had escaped. Silently praying for her to appear in my sight soon, I set a quick pace. The night was closing in on the day, and being out past my curfew had large consequences from Father. 

 Sighting Lydia taking in the laundry basket, I called her name desperately. 

"What's wrong?!" 

"Jamie! She fled the paddock and the Lord only knows where she has run off to," I said panicked. 

Her eyes widened and she huffed.

"I told you that horse-" she tried to say, before I interrupted her.

"We can stand here and argue over who was right, or we could prevent a dangerous horse from hurting herself and other people."

At that note, Lydia called over to one of the servants to return the laundry to the house and complete her chore. Thanking her gratefully, she turned back towards me and made her way to where I stood, atop the hill. 

"Alright, quickly, let's not speak of this to anyone and find her before curfew," Lydia spoke, then stroked my head gently, attempting at reassurance. 

Although I was grateful for her attempt, I was still nervous and my stomach churned at what Jamie could possibly have done and where she had fled.

Breaking from her embrace, I sighed yet again. I've honestly lost track of how many time the huffs and sighs had escaped my mouth that one day. There was so much frustration I had portrayed and I never realized until now that it was so. 

"We can't follow her, she's far too fast. We must go by either carriage or horse-back," Lydia noted. This predicament, I never thought through. 

"Oh no! How ever will we use a carriage?! Father will find it more than suspicious, especially at nighttime. We can't wait until tomorrow, he'll notice the absence of Jamie!" I babbled without pause. This time, the tears that had been stinging the back of my eyes did not yield their flow. Allowing them to dance down my cheeks, I sniffed and cried silently. Lydia moaned, realizing the urgency and danger of the situation I was in. 

She paused, then began pacing in front of me, which was no help to cease the chaos I felt. Her mind's process was working, it was obvious. While she paced endlessly, I sat down on the cold grassy ground and prayed silently that Jamie would just appear unto us. 

Lydia stopped suddenly, and glanced up, her eyes widening at a presence I was unaware of. Turning slowly around, my upper body twisted to face whatever Lydia was gaping at. 

There astride a white stud was Charles Poppenburg, glancing down at my tear-streaked face with empathy in his.