She saw a man who had spent years working without expecting anyone to notice the small injuries.
He saw a woman who had grown up surrounded by luxury yet still possessed tenderness that wealth hadn't managed to destroy.
Elizabeth tied the bandage.
Then released his hand.
โThere.โ
Daniel looked down.
Then smiled.
โThank you.โ
She nodded.
For several seconds, neither moved.
Then he stood.
โI need to check the south fence.โ
Elizabeth glanced toward the window.
โMay I come?โ
Daniel blinked.
โYou want to ride out with me?โ
She nodded.
He considered the question.
โIt's rough country.โ
Elizabeth folded her arms.
โI know how to ride.โ
He smiled.
โI didn't doubt that.โ
She raised an eyebrow.
โThen?โ
He looked toward the muddy path.
โYou'll ruin your shoes.โ
Elizabeth glanced down at the delicate leather slippers she'd worn from the house.
Then looked up.
โI suppose I'll need different shoes.โ
Daniel laughed.
โYes.โ
An hour later, Elizabeth was riding beside him wearing borrowed boots and an old work jacket that hung loosely from her shoulders.
The mare carried her carefully along the hillside.
Daniel rode a powerful chestnut gelding.
They traveled beneath tall pines.
Crossed a narrow stream.
And followed a ridge overlooking the valley.
Elizabeth had ridden horses since childhood.
But her rides at Hawthorne Hall were carefully planned outings along groomed trails, usually accompanied by servants.
Here, the country was open.
Wild.
Beautiful.
And completely indifferent to whether she belonged to a wealthy family.
She felt the wind move through her hair.
She smelled pine and damp earth.
And for a brief moment, she forgot that her marriage had been arranged as punishment.
Daniel glanced toward her.
โYou're smiling.โ
Elizabeth looked surprised.
โAm I?โ
He nodded.
She laughed.
โI suppose I am.โ
He pointed toward the mountains.
โThere's a good view beyond that ridge.โ
She urged her mare forward.
โThen show me.โ
For the next two hours, they rode together.