Past Destinies. Constance Ruth Clark

choking her voice as she revealed the only secret she’d ever kept from her best friend. “He died during the war.”

      “Elizabeth, that’s horrible.” Sarah hugged her friend tightly from behind. “Are you saying you had a beau, and now he’s gone?”

      Elizabeth shook her head and blinked hard to clear her eyes.

      “No, that’s just it, I never had him.” Swallowing down the lump in her throat, she continued. “The gypsy showed him to me again. She told me he was in the future, and she’d fetch him back for me. Every time I think about what she said and what I saw that day, I think I must be touched in the head. But it happened, Sarah, it did.” Elizabeth swiped at her unwanted tears.

      “If you say it happened then I believe you,” Sarah said with a best friend’s devotion. “But that’s good news. It means you do have someone out there, after all.”

      “And it’s not Mr. Carver,” Elizabeth said with a laugh. “She was most emphatic about that.”

      “Oh, I do love a good intrigue!” Sarah clapped her hands in excitement. “We shall have to explore this mystery further.”

      Elizabeth reached over and hugged her dear friend tightly.

      “Another time. I’m afraid. I must be going,” she said regretfully. Yet, she felt strangely relieved. “Aunt Mabel wants me home on time to help with supper tonight.”

      “All right.” Sarah’s disappointment was evident as she walked her friend downstairs.

      Outside, Elizabeth mounted her stallion confidently, in spite of Sarah’s trepidation. As she often told Elizabeth, Sarah didn’t like riding at all, preferring to drive a carriage. She claimed it was safer than being on top of ‘one of those beasts!’ Elizabeth disagreed and rode as much as possible, being a superb horsewoman. She had raised and trained her stallion from the time he had been weaned. As a result, he was completely devoted to her.

      “I’ll see you sometime next week,” Elizabeth called as she slowly walked Black across the barnyard toward the road.

      “Be careful riding that beast home!” Sarah called back.

      “Aren’t I always?”

      “So you say!” Sarah laughed as she waved. “Goodbye!”

      Elizabeth waved back and set off at a relaxed jog down the road toward home. Cutting across the fields, she slowed Black down to a walk as she mused over what Sarah had revealed to her. Kissed by a boy! No, Billy was a man now. Since the erotic dreams had started, Elizabeth had often thought about what it must be like to be kissed, but she couldn’t quite imagine it. It always seemed so wonderful in books and poetry, but nothing was ever as good in real life as in books. If it was, what would be the sense in reading at all?

      Lost in her thoughts, Elizabeth was caught unaware when Black reared in fright without warning, pitching her to the ground before galloping off across the fields. She barely had a chance to register the snake that had frightened her horse before her head hit a hidden rock in the grass, and she lost consciousness.

      She awoke feeling hot breath on her face, Black’s velvety nose nudging her gently as he snorted his concern. He had come back for her despite his fears, and she opened her eyes, wincing at the pain in her head.

      “Foolish horse,” she chided softly.

      He nudged her again, as though not satisfied that she was all right until she put her hand on his nose. Then he stood impatiently, waiting for her to rise to her feet and remount. It took her much longer than it normally would have because her head was pounding as if a thousand cattle were stampeding over it. Putting a hand to the back of her head, she was a bit alarmed to feel blood trickling down her neck.

      Finally she was standing, if a bit unsteadily, and became instantly sick, making Black sidestep. She wasn’t sure how much longer she’d be able to keep herself upright, and moaned in pain as she concentrated on mounting Black.

      She managed to grab his mane, and he stood perfectly still as she carefully lifted her foot to the stirrup. That was a first for him. Usually she had to practically jump on his back without the stirrups. Black seemed remorseful, if a horse can feel that emotion, and seemed to know that his mistress was hurt.

      Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to get her suddenly-heavy body on his back. Was a head injury supposed to bleed this much? Sinking back down to the ground next to him, clutching the reins, it was the last thought she had before she again lost consciousness.