Chapter Nine

Bay

I wake up the next morning to muted light filtering through Sean's window. The sky is covered with a thin layer of clouds. I glance at my watch. It's just past eight in the morning. The flat is completely empty. Sean's already at work. His boots and jacket are gone and the blanket he used last night is crumpled in the corner of the love-seat. I get up and rummage through his cabinets for a bit of something to eat. I find some bread and make some toast. After pulling on my boots and my jacket, I walk downstairs to the stables with my toast. A quick walkthrough shows me Sean isn't here either, but Corr is, so Sean isn't far. I walk outside into the brisk wind and the smell of rain. The Malvern Yard is quiet; I doubt that either Mutt or Benjamin Malvern is awake yet—not this early on a Sunday morning. Most of the grooms have already started work and are out and about with the horses. I catch sight of Sean heading toward the gate leading out of the Yard. Walking beside him and talking amiably is a blonde man of about thirty. He's dressed in crisp khaki pants, a white sweater, and has a ridiculous red hat perched on his wavy hair. He's not from Thisby. If I had to guess, I'd say he's American. He must be a buyer who's come to see Malvern. Though I don't even know him, I frown at him. I had been hoping to talk to Sean alone. Putting on a smile, I walk toward them just as the man unlatches the gate for Sean, who carries two buckets, one in each hand. The man looks back across the Yards and catches my eye as I walk up to them.

"Ah, is this your girl, Sean?" he asks jovially, as if recalling some earlier conversation. I blush, unsure of how to answer such an open question. The American (his accent confirms it) makes it sound casual, inquisitive, and...friendly somehow. But I don't know what he means by it.

"That's Bay," Sean says, though he doesn't elaborate. He acts like the American's question is completely expected. But he doesn't offer to explain it to me as he introduces us. "Bay, this is Mr. George Holly. Mr. Holly, Bay Fisher."

Holly holds out his hand and I take it. He's got a strong grip and a pleasant smile. "Good morning, Ms. Fisher." He grins. "You look like a properly adventurous young lady," he says.

"Um, thank you, Mr. Holly," I say, not quite sure how to respond to that. "I trust you find Thisby a properly adventurous place then?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Thisby, the water horses, and everybody on this charming rock," he replies. "Mr. Kendrick's introduced me to the finer points of all three." With a wry smile he continues, "I believe you people have enough adventure to fill a thousand lifetimes."

"That we do," Sean agrees quietly as he steps through the gate. Holly follows him and holds the gate for me then latches it behind us all. He and Sean start down the road toward the cliffs, but I turn back toward Skarmouth. There are things I want to do, but something in me also shies away from Holly and his open friendliness. Something about Holly seems invasive to me, but I can also tell Sean is friendly with him.

Just like he's friendly with Puck Connolly, a little voice in my head whispers. It puts a dark twist on my mood that surprises even me. Sean suddenly notices that I'm not with them. He turns back and catches my eye, eyebrow raised inquisitively.

"I'm headed home," I explain. "I need to make my deliveries so I can take Tempest out later." Then in a softer voice I add, "While he's still mine."

Sean nods understanding. "Good luck," he smiles, but whether he means with my deliveries or with Tempest, I'm not sure.

Holly raises an eyebrow at the exchange but neither of us offers to explain. Sean turns away and starts walking again.

"Pleasure meeting you!" Holly calls to me as he catches up to Sean.

I wave back to him, then set my mouth in a grim line and point my feet toward home.

Sean

Holly walks beside me in silence as we head toward the cliffs, a stiff breeze spitting in our faces. I duck my head to my chest as the wind slices across my body, bringing the scent of salt and rain with it. The storm-scent of the air brings me to the task at hand. The buckets I carry are filled with Corr's manure and though the smell is rank and the task unpleasant, it's part of my job as the foreman of Malvern's Yard. Spreading Corr's manure on the cliffs will help repel any capail uisce that climb from the sea in this upcoming storm. Especially the stallions. When they encounter Corr's smell, I want them to think that they're entering another stallion's territory and that they'll have Corr to contend with if they venture too far. About halfway out to the cliffs Holly reaches out and takes a bucket from me. He grunts in surprise at the weight of it and I'm glad that he took it, but I don't let on. We reach the end of the Skarmouth road and I tip up the bucket in my hands, dropping some of its content on the grass. Then I pull salt and iron shavings from my pocket and spread them around too. Holly watches me in silence for a moment then he picks up our conversation from earlier this morning right where he left off, "If Bay Fisher is just a friend, then what's Puck Connolly?"

"A girl," I say as I begin walking again.

"Well, she's very obviously that," Holly laughs. "But what is she to you?"

"A Scorpio Races jockey who just needs a little help."

"So, what makes you, the four-time champion of these races, want to help a no-account rookie like Connolly?" Holly wonders.

"Kate Connolly isn't no-account," I find myself answering defensively.

"Oh?" Holly prods me.

"She just needs a little help," I repeat, stopping once more to tip my bucket and scatter salt and iron.

"From you," Holly says and I look up at him sharply. Another meaning hides behind his open words and smile, but I can't quite pull it from him. He innocently turns and dumps the contents of his bucket farther along the grass at the cliff edge. Holly doesn't talk anymore as we finish up the job, probably because he can sense that I won't answer him. But as we start back up the Skarmouth road for the Malvern stables, he decides that I'm at least ready to listen again.

"I can see what keeps you on this island, Sean Kendrick," he says. "But, I'm curious, what keeps you working for Benjamin Malvern?"

Corr is the first thing that comes to mind, but I don't answer right away. His question touches a deep, quiet doubt I've been harboring for some years now. What keeps me with Malvern? It's not much of a future, and I really wish to be free of him and return to my old home and have a farm again. Deep inside, I think I know the answer to the question, but I don't want to admit it to anyone, least of all myself. Holly ventures a guess when I remain silent.

"It's the red stallion, isn't it?" he asks, a sly grin on his face.

"You could say that." I don't look at him when I answer.

"Why don't you buy him from Malvern?" Holly inquires.

I give him a sideways glance. "You think I haven't tried?"

"Ah." Holly nods his head as if that makes everything clear. "He won't sell?"

I shake my head. "And it's not just me; he won't sell Corr to anyone, no matter the price."

"You've got the leverage to jack the price up, Mr. Kendrick."

I look at Holly, one eyebrow raised in question. I'm not penniless, but I'm far from rich and I have nothing to offer Malvern that he doesn't already have. Holly waits a moment before explaining himself, as if giving his words a chance to sink in.

When I don't say anything, he says, "You can always quit."

I could. But, to be honest, some part of me is afraid of what that might mean. If I quit, it would mean letting go of everything I've held onto for the past nine years of my life. It would mean letting go of Corr if Malvern doesn't want to keep me more than the horse. It would also be an assessment of my exact worth in Malvern's eyes and though I despise the man more than anything, I'm not sure I want to face the results of that assessment. Because then what does that make me? Just plain Sean Kendrick. Not the foreman of the Malvern Yards. Not the winner of the Scorpio Races. Just Sean. And I'm not sure I can live like that.

By now we've reached the Malvern Yards again and Holly turns toward the house as we enter the gate.

"If the big man's not awake by now, he's going to make this buyer more than a little put-out," Holly says to me with a conspiratorial grin. "Malvern's going to get out of bed whether he likes it or not."

I smile as Holly walks off with a determined step. Just before I get to the stables, he calls my name. I turn back to him.

"Will you set your price, Mr. Kendrick?" he asks.

"Maybe, Mr. Holly, maybe," I answer as I duck into the comforting semi-darkness of the stables.