“By giving him what he needs. By kindness rather than the noose. No,” she insisted. “I am not speaking of ideals. I will do it, like this.”
Without haste she returned to the door of the hut, and went inside. Her mother sat staring blankly at the fire, though Mary had little doubt that she had moved there but recently, and had heard, if not seen, all that had taken place.
“Mother, may I take some apples?”
“They are in the basket, as you know for yourself.”
“Thank you.” There was no time to wonder what her mother was feeling, if anything. She
strode up and kissed her quickly, then took two of the apples and went outside.
There both man and beast looked back at her. With neither haste nor hesitation, she took a bite of the first apple, and, as if the man did not exist, walked directly toward the stallion. It craned its neck at this, and looked cautiously back at its master. But as he made no move, it turned its large, animal eyes back to the girl.
She did not hold the apple out enticingly, or make the cooing sounds of entreaty which she knew it would instinctively mistrust. She simply advanced, acting as if the reins did not exist, paused, came closer, then stopped carelessly perhaps ten feet away. She took another bite of the apple, then laughed as the creature snorted impatiently, and at last came up to her. She reached below its head with one hand, and fed it the apples with the other.
The reins were in her hand, and the animal ate greedily. Then all at once she burst into tears, and hid her face against its long and beautiful neck.
Together they rode across the wide and wild moors, past stark mountain ridges, and lochs many thousand feet deep. All beneath a warming sun and mild, caressing wind. They spoke quietly or not at all, taking in the broad magnificence around them, each thinking their own thoughts, alone, and yet in the deepest sense, together.