A Brooding Beauty by Jillian Eaton

deliberately speaking in a low voice.
    “Yes, of course,” the rider said in a short, clipped tone. “And have him tacked again in an hour. I will not be staying here long.”
    “Might I ask why?”
    The rider turned and leveled dark green eyes at her. Margaret held her breath, waiting for him to recognize her, but he merely reached in his pocket and tossed her two coins which she reached out to catch automatically. “Cool him out, groom him, and feed him. I will be back in an hour.”
    Without another word he walked away towards the house. Margaret stared after him in wordless disbelief, certain at any moment he was going to turn around and come back. When the front door slammed behind him, she shook her head.
    “Can you believe that?” she asked the bay. The horse regarded her stoic silence. “Yes well,” she continued, grunting a bit as she loosened the bay’s tight cinch, “you have to be loyal to him. You’re his horse. But I’m just his wife, and I don’t like him a’ tall.”