Autumn by Lisa Ann Brown

said, her face suddenly suffused with heat.
                  “Hello, Miss Spade,” Eli replied with a slight, mocking bow. “You’re here awfully early; anything going on?”
                  “I came to see if I could borrow Whipsie again. As I told you last night, it’s imperative I return to the Rosewood Inn.”
                  Eli frowned. “You can’t go alone,” he stated stubbornly.
                  “I have to,” Arabel answered as he shook his head. “I’m not looking for permission,” she retorted.
                  “Let me see if I can be spared, and I’ll gladly accompany you,” Eli insisted, and this time, Arabel shook her head.
                  “You’ve got work here to do. You can’t very well lose your job because I need company!”
                  “It’s more than that and you know it,” Eli muttered, glancing around for the stable master. “I’ll just check and see,” he said and moved off with the pitchfork in his hand to seek permission to leave.
                  Arabel waited patiently with Whipsie. The honey coloured roan did seem as though she wanted to escape the stable environs, Arabel thought, and she really hoped she’d be allowed to take her. Without a horse, a journey to Magpie Moor was not going to be accomplished in one day, or at all most likely.
                  Eli returned in just a few moments, his face cast in unhappy lines. “Well it’s a good news, bad news sort of scenario,” he said glumly. “You can take Whipsie but I’m needed here today and can’t be spared.” Eli toyed with the pitchfork, raking it idly across the stable floor.
                  “I will be safe, don’t worry,” Arabel said lightly, trying to mask her disappointment. “I’ll take all of the necessary precautions. My plan is to stay for at least one night, perhaps two, and see what the crow is leading me into, or away from.” Arabel glanced up at the stable gable, looking for the bird.
                  Eli followed her gaze. The black bird swooped down, as if on cue, to land again upon Arabel’s shoulder, apparently its newest favourite perch.
                  “Stick close to her, then,” Eli directed the bird, who appeared to regard him solemnly, its head cocked to the side, peering first with one beady eye and then sizing him up with the other. Arabel laughed, the bird was comical somehow, cheeky, even. It brightened her mood.
                  Eli prepared Whipsie for the journey and handed Arabel up onto the mare’s back once she was saddled and ready to go.
                  “Be careful,” Eli said, taking hold of Arabel’s hand and squeezing it lightly. No colours, Arabel noted, with a slight disappointment.
                  Arabel made her way from the paddock out into the open field. A few of the stable boys had regarded her curiously as she had walked Whipsie out of the yard. Arabel wasn’t certain if they had seen her with Eli and if that was the cause of their interest, or perhaps it was the crow, attached to her shoulder like a burr, its speculative eyes darting everywhere, taking in all of the details.
                  The crow made small clicking sounds, as if chortling to itself and Arabel couldn’t help but grin. Even Whipsie seemed intrigued; she laid her great ears flat back, as if listening to the crow. Perhaps they could understand each other, Arabel thought. It wasn’t so far fetched really, seeing as she could understand both bird and beast, and that was probably more of a rarity than the two creatures being able to understand one another. Now if only all of the humans could make the same effort, Arabel thought wryly, then perhaps peaceful unity could one day be attained.
                  The movement of the horse and the rain lulled Arabel as she sat in the