Thursday's Child (Out of Time #5) by Monique Martin

never abated. Rose had a minor crisis with the house staff that had to be taken care of and begged off and the rest made their way around the back of the house and through one of the gardens.
    “River Run is just under 2000 acres right now. We have one hundred field hands and can produce nearly 1000 bales of cotton per season. Although, I hope to do better,” James said as he gave them the overview of the plantation. He was particularly proud of his slave-to-bale ratio and overall crop value when it came time to market.
    Simon was about to ask a question, when he felt Elizabeth squeeze his arm. He looked down and she nodded toward a patch in the garden with the same blue flowers they'd seen at Mary's grave. Without knowing more about the scarcity of the flower, it was hardly conclusive evidence. For all he knew, those flowers could be in every garden in Natchez.
    “Of course,” James continued. “We have other holdings. My brothers grow rice in Yemassee, South Carolina and sugar over in the Ascension Parish. But my heart is here in River Run.”
    They had emerged from the garden and into a clearing with multiple outbuildings, including, Simon realized, a massive stable.
    James spoke to one of the grooms, who hurried inside. He turned to Simon and Elizabeth. “I assume you both ride.”
    “Have you met a Texan who can't?” Elizabeth said with a smile.
    What on earth was she thinking? There was reckless and then there was Elizabeth. Why did she always seem to go out of her way to find dangerous situations to explore? Simon shot her a sharp look that she studiously ignored.
    “Very good.” James said.
    He glanced at Simon who nodded, reluctantly. “Something gentle for my wife, please. Her skills are not as sharp as her wit.” He ignored the face she gave him.
    Elijah and James walked into the stables leaving Simon and Elizabeth alone.
    Simon leaned down and said in a tense whisper. “Exactly when did you learn how to ride?”
    Elizabeth shrugged diffidently, but Simon knew she was putting on an act. “I've ridden,” she said. “Some.”
    Maybe the heat had finally gotten to her?
    “My father and I used to practically live at the race track,” Elizabeth said too casually. “The trainers used to let me ride the horses all the time.”
    Simon narrowed his eyes. “A small girl on a racehorse?”
    “Okay, so they led the horse around the paddock, but technically I was riding.” She patted his arm in an attempt to soothe him.
    Simon snorted.
    James and Eli came out of the stables discussing the health of one of the horses. It seemed James' horse was nursing a sore leg and wasn't ready to be ridden yet. Two grooms led several horses out behind them.
    “If you think I'm going to be left behind, you can forget it,” Elizabeth whispered. “And I rode a pony at the fair once, too,” Elizabeth added with arched brow as she started toward them.
    “In a dress?”
    She stumbled a bit and glared over her shoulder before continuing on. Simon would have laughed if it weren't her neck on the line.
    James had chosen a handsome chestnut for Simon and a large broad-backed strawberry roan for Elizabeth. The groom led Elizabeth's horse to a mounting block. Simon saw her swallow hard as she looked at the two horned, off-center sidesaddle.
    Simon came up behind and whispered in her ear. “Put your right leg over the top pommel and the ball of your left foot in the stirrup. Keep your hips square to the horse; don't lean to the left.”
    “Right. The chalice from the palace has the brew that is true.”
    “Elizabeth.”
    She lifted her skirts and climbed up the stairs. Thankfully, the old roan was as still and as calm as could be. Elizabeth mounted and managed, barely, not to slide off the other side.
    “Easy peasy,” she said with a shuddering wiggle in her seat.
    Simon patted the horse's neck. “Let him do the work. At least he knows what he's doing. And for God's sake, be careful.”
    Finally, she seemed to hear the