Part 13 (1/2)
He laughed. ”I knew you'd like that one. I won't tell you where I learned it, though.”
”Somehow I don't think I'd like to hear.”
”And I'm wise enough to know it.” He dumped the sacks in their wagon. ”Anything else while we're here?”
”No. I just want to go home so we can practice.”
”There's work to do first. Wouldn't want to neglect your farm.”
Sparrow smiled. At least now it was back to being her farm.
”Everybody look out!” a man's voice shouted before five horses tore through the village square.
Lock grasped Sparrow in one arm and hoisted her onto the wagon beside him before she was trampled.
She pointed to the group of horses and the man following them on his own chestnut mount. ”He comes here sometimes to sell horses. That's where we got ours.”
”He's a jacka.s.s.” Lock glared in the man's direction, but his eyes drifted to a big-boned white stallion who had just kicked over the fisherwoman's cart. The animal's eyes were wild, its dirt-stained coat damp with sweat.
Shaking her fist, the fisherwoman bellowed, ”d.a.m.n men! Every time they come to the village, they ruin something!
”Sorry, old woman.” The horseman nodded in her direction, la.s.soed the stallion, and whipped him hard across the flanks. The horse bucked, nearly kicking several pa.s.sers by.
Sparrow noted the horse's sleek coat was marked with old scars. Apparently, the horseman used his whip often.
”You can't tame anything that way.” Sparrow shook her head as the man continued beating the horse and bellowing curses. Lock stepped from the wagon. ”Where are you going? Lock!”
She hurried after him.
The horseman raised his whip, and Lock jerked it from his hand.
”Who the h.e.l.l are you?” The horseman snarled at Lock. ”Give me that whip back!”
Lock glanced at the well several paces to his left. He tossed the whip down the deep, dark hole.
”Son-of-a-b.i.t.c.h!” the horseman's teeth clenched with fury, and he slid his foot from the stirrup to kick Lock in the face.
Lock caught his foot and yanked him from the saddle. The man landed with a grunt on his back.
”I'll beat you within an inch of your life! I'll...” The man spat a mouthful of dirt, climbed to his feet, and paused in his speech as he found himself at eye-level with Lock's broad chest. He craned his neck to look into the pirate's face with its animal-like bone structure and demonic eyes. ”I'll be on my way. I don't have time for this, but the guards in Begonia will hear about it. A man can't even sell his goods without being attacked...”
”Please, Sir.” Sparrow stepped forward. She placed a hand on Lock's chest. ”He didn't mean anything. He has an aversion to whips.”
”I wonder why,” the blacksmith gloated, and Lock shot her a furious look. Sparrow's heartbeat quickened. If she didn't get him out of the village and back to the farm, who knew what else might happen?
”He's my responsibility,” Sparrow continued. ”I'll pay for the damages.”
The horseman's eyes focused on Sparrow's money pouch from which she counted several coins.
”Well, I suppose for a beautiful woman I can be lenient.” The man rubbed his stubbled jaw. ”Let's say five silver pieces and call it even.”
”That's robbery!” Lock bellowed.
”Will you shut up?” Sparrow hissed through clenched teeth.
Lock threw up his hands in disgust and walked away while Sparrow paid the horseman.
After he'd pocketed the money, the man glanced over his shoulder and noticed Lock stroking the stallion's neck. Though trembling, the horse seemed calmer beneath the pirate's touch. Sparrow almost smiled. He and the horse were so similar, both spirited, handsome, battle-scarred...
”Get your hands off that animal, slave!” the horseman bellowed. ”He's going to the slaughterhouse from here. No one's got any use for a horse that can't be trained.”
”Maybe you can't train him,” Lock said.
”Others have tried.”
”With a whip?”
”It usually works,” the horseman glanced at one of Lock's scarred shoulders, ”as you must know.”
Lock took a step toward the man, and Sparrow said quickly, ”How much for the horse?”
”Missy, you don't want him.”
”Yes, I do.”
”She has a way with wild things.” The blacksmith winked in Sparrow's direction.
”I don't know...”
”You're here to make a profit, aren't you?” Sparrow placed a hand on her hip. ”So how much?”
”That's the last time I take you to the village.” Sparrow glanced at Lock from the corner of her eye as she drove the wagon toward the farm. ”You're far too expensive.”
Lock looked over his shoulder at the while stallion prancing behind the wagon. After paying the trader, he and Sparrow had taken the horse to the blacksmith's stables where they'd cleaned him and tended his injuries. Several times the stallion tried nipping and kicking, but such behavior was understandable after the abuse he'd suffered. With proper handling, Lock was certain the beautiful horse would be well mannered and trainable. The idea of taming and riding him was almost as thrilling as the thought of sailing again.
He turned his gaze back to Sparrow and brushed a tendril of hair behind her ear. He wasn't exactly sure how to express what he felt for her or why she apparently felt so much for him. ”Why are you so nice to me?”
”What?” she giggled.
”Why?”
”I like you.”
”What's to like? I haven't treated you very well since I've known you.”
”I think you've probably treated me better than you've ever treated anyone.”