White Horses. Joan Wolf

as they arrived at the field. “There is a stream just inside the woods over there. We can bring the horses to the water instead of always having to drag the water to them.”

      She watched as Leo looked around. It looked like an ordinary field to him. “Very nice,” he said.

      Gabrielle said briskly, “Well, before we can go to our lodgings we have to make certain the horses are comfortable. Get down, Leo,” she ordered. “There’s work to do.”

      All of the wagons had emptied by the time Leo and Gabrielle reached the ground, and all the circus members gathered around her. She issued her orders.

      “You know the routine,” she began, looking at each person in the group. “First we have to get the horses settled. Mathieu, Albert, Jean, Cesar, Leo and I can put up the corral. Then we’ll unharness the horses and take them for water. The rest of you can help with the tents.”

      Most of the assembly turned and started to walk toward the wagon in which the tents were stored. Gabrielle went to open the back door of her wagon to let Colette out and her brothers and the grooms headed in the direction of the wagon Mathieu had been driving. After a moment’s hesitation, Leo followed them.

      Mathieu climbed up into the driver’s seat and drove the wagon to a place a few hundred feet from where all the other wagons were parked. When he stopped, the two grooms jumped into the back of the wagon and started handing down long pointed wooden poles to the rest of the men who stood on the ground. When they had all been unloaded, they were followed by four heavy wooden mallets.

      “We put the stakes into the ground and then we put up a rope to make a corral,” Albert explained to Leo.

      “Surely you can’t put all the horses in the corral together?”

      “The corral is only for our horses. The rest of the circus pickets their horses for the night under the stable tent. Gabrielle likes to give our horses a chance to lie down.”

      “They don’t try to get out? A rope corral isn’t that sturdy.”

      Albert shrugged. “If they wanted to get out they probably could, but the corral is where they are fed, and besides, they are used to it.”

      Something rustled in the trees and the greyhound was off like a shot.

      “Good God,” Leo exclaimed. “She moves like the wind.”

      “Colette can run,” Albert agreed.

      “I’ve never seen a greyhound run. They really are amazing.”

      “What kind of dogs did you have in England?”

      “My family had mostly spaniels and retrievers—hunting dogs.”

      Albert said, “Greyhounds are hunters, too—they are sight hounds, not nose hounds—but Colette is a pet.”

      “Most of the ladies in England have little dogs for pets,” Leo said. “Pugs or King Charles spaniels.”

      “Gabrielle has always liked big dogs. Colette is her second greyhound.”

      Mathieu came up to them and handed Leo a mallet. “Here you go, Leo,” he said. “You look like you’re strong. You can pound the stake while Albert holds it.”

      The men had pounded the stakes in the ground more quickly than Leo would have believed, then two lengths of thick rope were looped through holes that had been drilled in the posts.

      “Very neat,” Leo remarked, impressed despite himself.

      Gabrielle came up to her brother and Leo. “Emma and I will start to untie the performance horses and take them down to the stream for water.” she said.

      She favored Leo with a brief smile. “See how you can make yourself useful?” she asked. “There is always something to be done in a circus.”

      He nodded but did not reply.

      When the performance horses had been corralled, Leo helped unharness the wagon horses and take them for a drink. By the time they had finished with the horses, the circus tent was up. Leo looked at it and was impressed.

      “I’ve never seen a tent like that,” he said to Mathieu.

      “It was Papa’s invention, the round tent. It makes for good viewing from all sides and you can get more people in.”

      “And you put it up in so short a time!”

      “It’s simple, really,” Mathieu said. “First we put up the center pole, then we lace the canvas pieces together and drape them over, then the quarter poles are put in to hold the tent out, and voilà, we have a tent.”

      “Very efficient,” Leo said.

      “Don’t you have tents in the army?” Mathieu asked.

      “Actually, Wellington has ordered tents for this last campaign. Until now the men have bivouacked in the open.”

      Mathieu said, “We have two more tents to put up, the stable tent and the dressing tent. Then we will be done for now.”

      Gabrielle came up to them, her greyhound at her heels. “We need to hay the horses,” she said. “Leo, you can help Mathieu.”

      More orders. He replied as calmly as he could but knew his temper was showing. “Very well.”

      Gabrielle stood and watched as he went off with her brother, but not before he noted the speculative expression on her face.

      Seven

      “When were you married, Gabrielle?”

      Leo could see Luc’s question had taken her off guard. They had left the animals fed and watered back at the field, and were now piled into the Robichons’ two painted wagons to make the short journey to their lodgings in town.

      Leo ended up sharing a front seat with Luc Balzac and Gabrielle. Luc started asking questions as soon as Leo put the horses into motion.

      “Oh, a few weeks ago,” she replied, too nervously for Leo’s taste. “It was quite a whirlwind romance, wasn’t it, Leo?”

      He looked at her. Her large brown eyes were anxious. “Yes,” he said warmly, hoping to help the charade. “It was quite a romance.”

      “And what do you do, Leo—or what did you do before you had the luck to marry a circus owner?” Luc’s voice was tinged with sarcasm.

      Leo had already thought this out so his answer was prompt. “I bought and sold horses in England.”

      Gabrielle said with annoyance, “Leo would not have married any circus owner, Luc. He married me. Isn’t that true, Leo?”

      “Completely true, my sweet,” he said, then took her hand in his and kissed it.

      It was not the smooth, soft hand of a lady. It was a strong, competent little hand whose skin was slightly chapped. Touching it, he felt a shock streak from his lips to his loins. He dropped her hand as if it had burned his mouth.

      Gabrielle looked startled. He didn’t know if it was because he had dropped her hand so suddenly or because she, too, had felt the same shock that had leaped between them.

      “You’re English,” Luc continued, not noticing Leo’s reaction. “What were you doing in Brussels?”

      “Selling a horse,” Leo replied shortly.

      “How did you meet Gabrielle?”

      “Really, Luc,” Gabrielle said. Her husky voice sounded a little breathless. “You sound as if you’re conducting an inquisition. Leo and I met by chance and fell in love. That’s the whole story.”

      Luc scowled. “I thought you were still mourning your beloved André.”

      The faintest flush bloomed on Gabrielle’s cheeks. She has beautiful skin, Leo thought.