The mare leaned her head over the gate, whickering softly, and allowed her ears to be scratched. Alexander's grip tightened on the feed pails he carried. There might be nothing in it except a girl's fondness for her horse, or it might be Miss Brinsby's way of asserting her mastery of the situation between them. She could come and go freely, step in and out of his realm as her whim moved her. He could only stand and serve.Alexander gathered the tack and opened the stall, moving in a smooth, automatic sequence he knew by heart. Miss Brinsby stepped in after him and the stall enclosed them in warm, hay-scented air in which there was some indefinable influence of her presence. He paused for an instant, forgetting what came next. She took the bridle from his unmoving hands and turned to Shadow, murmuring softly and rubbing the mare's neck and ears.Alexander blinked, recovering the faculty of motion, and laid the blanket on the mare's back,A tiny "mmm" from Miss Brinsby made him glance her way."Are you sure she has no bruises or tender spots?"Their eyes held, hers testing not his competence, but his patience.
