“Oh aye. I know how to do that all right,” Aggie said. She looked admiringly at the pelt in her hand. It was a fine piece of fur. Pelts like this were for the gentry, for the rich. Not for poor farmers like her. “Thank’ee, Ranger Maddie. Thank’ee. This is a pelt fit for a fine lady, this is.”
She ran her work-worn hand over the soft fur. She could make a bonnet from it. Or she could trade it at the next market day for two good wool coats for her and her husband. Maddie’s gift would keep them both warm this coming winter.
“You are a fine lady,” Maddie told her. She glanced at Will. “Shall we go now?”
They rode back to the cabin in silence. Will studied the young girl beside him in some detail.
She had come to him as a bumptious, self-centred and selfish princess, thinking only of herself and her own enjoyment. Gradually, he had watched her transformation. Of course, the episode with the wine was a step back. But everyone made mistakes, he thought. Smiling, he recalled several from his own days as a trainee. But her unpremeditated gesture this evening, handing over the valuable pelt to the poor farmer’s wife, showed a growth and a maturity that gave him a warm glow. Finally, he spoke.
“That was a nice thing you did.”
She glanced at him. “Did you see her clothes? They were thin and threadbare and patched. At least now she’ll have one warm item for winter.”
He nodded. “Yes. She will.”
But the old Maddie, Princess Maddie, wouldn’t have even noticed the state of Aggie’s clothes, let alone made the connection that she would be cold in winter.
I think she’s going to work out just fine, he thought to himself.
Tug shook his mane and snorted. I always knew she would.
Twenty-eight
The little cabin in the trees was still hidden from sight when Tug raised his head and let out a cheerful whinny. Bumper looked up at the sound. Almost instantly, an answering whinny came from the direction of the cabin.
“We’ve got company,” Will said.
Maddie looked at him inquiringly but he said no more. He thought he’d recognised the strange horse’s sound but he wasn’t totally sure. No sense in voicing an assumption only to have it proven wrong.
As it turned out, he was right. They rode into the clearing and saw a bay mare standing before the porch. She turned her head as they approached and whinnied again. Both Bumper and Tug responded.
Maddie looked at her horse, puzzled. “How does Bumper know her?” she asked.
Will glanced at her. “Ranger horses tend to recognise each other. Even if they’ve never met.”
“That doesn’t make a lot of sense,” said a cheerful voice from the end of the porch. “How can you recognise someone you’ve never met?”
Will shrugged. “Why ask me? I’m not a horse.”
You don’t have the legs for it, Tug commented dryly.
Gilan was sitting at the end of the porch, fondling Sable’s ears. The dog had her head to one side, eyes closed and a blissful expression on her face. Sable loved to have the thick fur around her ears and throat patted and smoothed.
Will dismounted and glared in mock disappointment at Sable.
“Some watchdog you are. You should have torn him to pieces.”
Sable thumped her tail on the porch boards in agreement. Gilan gave her a final pat and rose to his feet.
“Hello, Maddie. How’s your training going?”
She gave him a wan smile as she dismounted. “Well, some days I think I’m getting there. Then others I know I’m not.”
Gilan raised an eyebrow and looked at Will. He had never heard such self-deprecation from Maddie before. Perhaps this idea of Halt’s was working out. Will saw the look and guessed its meaning. He gave a brief nod.
“Should I take the horses to the stable?” she asked and Gilan’s surprise went up another notch. Maddie volunteering to do menial work was something else he wasn’t accustomed to.
“Yes. If you would,” Will told her. “Blaze too.” He glanced at Gilan. “I assume you’ll stay with us? Or did you want to sleep at the castle?”
“No. I’ll stay here if I’m welcome,” Gilan said hastily. “Too much fuss and formality at the castle.”
“And we’re closer to The Heaped Platter here, of course,” Will said.
Gilan allowed himself a grin. The Heaped Platter was the name of Jenny’s eating house in Wensley Village.
“Well, yes,” the Commandant replied. “I thought I might slip over there for breakfast in the morning.”
“She’ll be glad to see you,” Will said, and for a moment, a hint of sadness tinged his expression. Jenny and Gilan might not have married, but they still had each other.
He led the way inside and moved to the kitchen bench, filling the coffee pot from the large jug of fresh water. He didn’t ask if Gilan wanted coffee. He was a Ranger. Rangers always wanted coffee.
As Will began to grind coffee beans, the rich aroma released by the grinding filled Gilan’s nostrils. His mouth watered at the thought of fresh coffee. He sat at the table, pushing aside a stack of papers that had been left there. Glancing idly at them, he recognised several of the weekly reports he sent out to Rangers throughout the country. There were several letters as well, and beneath them was a leather folder, with more papers inside. He tapped his finger on it.
“What’s this?” he asked. Will looked round and saw the leather folder. His face took on a slightly embarrassed look.
“Oh… just an idea I was working on. It’s not important now.” He took the folder and shoved it into a bookshelf along one wall of the living room. There was an air of finality about the gesture, Gilan thought. He shrugged. He had merely been making idle conversation.
“So, how’s it working out with Maddie?” he asked, changing the subject. Will, who had resumed his coffee grinding, turned to face him.
“Surprisingly well,” he said. “She’s quick and keen and she’s eager to learn. She loves the outdoor life and a little freedom. My guess is, she was rebelling against all the restrictions at Castle Araluen. Now that she’s not a princess any more, she seems to be taking more notice of people around her.”
Gilan pursed his lips with interest. “Did you use the letter?” he asked. He was aware of the letter that Cassandra and Horace had sent to Will, disinheriting their daughter.
Will nodded, turning back to the task of making coffee again.
“Had to. She needed a jolt. Needed to know she was nothing special. And it worked.”
“How so?”
Will paused to consider, while he set the pot on the stovetop. He opened the firebox and tossed in several pieces of wood, then opened the draught at the bottom of the stove.
“Well, today is a good example. A local farmer was having trouble with a marten, stealing his eggs and killing his hens.”
“So you took care of it?”
“Maddie did. Knocked it down with her sling. She’s a dead shot with that thing, by the way. Then she slipped over and skinned it in a few minutes.”
Gilan looked impressed. “Be a good pelt at this time of year.”
Will nodded as he dropped a handful of coffee into the boiling pot. “It was. It was a beautiful pelt. And that’s the thing. The farmer and his wife were as poor as church mice. Their clothes were thin and ragged. She gave the woman the pelt. Said she wanted her to have something warm for winter.”
Gilan nodded. “As you say, it sounds as if she’s taking notice of other people’s needs. Which is a good quality to have in a Ranger.”
“She’s always been a good kid at heart,” Will said. He’d decided not to say anything about the episode with the wine. “She just needed to remember it.”