Work-In-Progress Wednesdays #13

This week, I’m sharing a part of an anthology piece I’ve been working on with a few author friends of mine. The piece is a historical fantasy short story about two characters that will feature in a prequel series to The Gate Chronicles.

The Gate Chronicles were the first books where I started exploring the concept of Gates or Pathways. The books will, at some point, receive a serious edit and re-work, but before that, I plan to focus more on the prequel and the other series I have going. For now, let’s take a look at the short anthology piece! This selection is from the opening scene.

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RAIN began to drizzle down when Alantha pulled her horse to a stop in front of a run-down inn. A carriage rumbled up behind her as she slid off her horse, struggling not to collapse under the sudden weight of her soaked skirts. She knew she probably shouldn’t have hiked her skirts up to ride astride when a side-saddle was more appropriate, but she’d wanted to feel the wind in her face and the horse’s powerful body rippling beneath her. Was that so wrong? Every once in a while, surely she was allowed to have a bit of controlled freedom. Always controlled, but freedom, nonetheless. Her version, anyway.

She’d come here looking for an escape from her broken heart and the feelings she didn’t want to acknowledge, whatever her sister said about how unhealthy it was. Alantha didn’t want to feel anything. Didn’t want to be disappointed in Zeke for leaving instead of trying to change. Didn’t want to mourn the broken dreams of a love match that Lord Trevain’s insanity had ground into dust. And for about an hour before the rain had come pouring down, she’d found it.

She tied the horse to a nearby rail and undid the cinch on his saddle. It was heavy work for a lady, but she was no lady despite the station her sister’s marriage had acquired for them, so what did it matter? Footfalls splashed through the puddles on the cobblestones from a recent storm that had washed through before this one. That storm was responsible for her soaked garments. She glanced down at her clothes with a sigh. Why the blazes had she worn this pastel pink blouse and baby blue skirt today? Not only did it defy her mood, but now that it was drenched, it was most definitely not appropriate. Curse it all! She didn’t even have a jacket. She’d have to use the horse’s blanket. Hopefully—

“Miss?”

She jumped, nearly whacked the horse’s rump with the saddle as she spun. Her foot slipped on a moss-covered cobblestone at the edge of the inn’s small paddock, and she dropped the saddle at the man’s feet before tumbling unceremoniously onto her bum in the mud of the pasture. Wonderful. That would ruin her skirts entirely. Maybe even her chemise. She could feel the cold mud oozing through her garments and soaking clear through to her unmentionables.

The man stared down at her passively, his amber eyes calm. At least he had the good sense not to laugh. Or to stare at her inappropriately given her state of undress.

Alantha struggled to her feet and tried to brush the mud off the back of her skirts. Her hands came away coated in mud with her skirt not a bit cleaner for it. Well, forget it, then. It was no use trying to fix it now. She pulled the horse’s blanket out from beneath the saddle and wrapped it around her shoulders with a huff. “What do you want?”

A flare of amusement did enter his gaze then. Strange man. “I saw you struggling with the horse, and I thought I would offer assistance. But I see you already have it handled.”

Her jaw clenched. “Do not mock me, sir. Had you not scared the life out of me, I would not have had any issues at all.”

He stepped closer and raised a brow. “Oh? I apologize if I frightened you so badly, though you still seem rather lively to me.”

Despite the rain, her cheeks flushed with heat. And she was annoyed to discover that the heat was the result of both a visceral reaction to his closeness and frustration at his obvious mockery of her situation. This man knew nothing about her. What right did he have to behave this way? To play the rake with a woman he knew nothing of was simply not something that should be done. It defied logic, after all. “I think, sir, that your companion is waiting for you.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the other man standing in the doorway of the inn with a mulish expression on his face. “Ah. Never mind about Cassius. He’s as empty-headed as his name would imply.”

Wasn’t that a bit rude? She crossed her arms and clutched the blanket closer as he continued to stand only inches away. The rain came down harder in that moment, but she couldn’t miss the shout from the man in the doorway. “I heard that, Bram.”

“You were meant to, Cassius.” He didn’t take his eyes off her. “Here, let me help you with the saddle. And we’d better get the horse turned out into the paddock.”

She bit her lip. How had Cassius heard that? Bram hadn’t spoken loudly enough for someone to hear him from a few yards, let alone from the inn’s doorstep. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

What was she supposed to do? Logic dictated that she should accept his help. After all, she couldn’t easily put the horse out to pasture and stow the saddle out of the rain if she had to keep this blanket around her to keep herself decent. And now that there were men around, decency wasn’t something she planned on throwing to the wind. Lady or not, she had some sense of propriety. You just couldn’t parade about with your underclothes clearly visible through your blouse and skirt. It simply wasn’t done.

But even though she knew logic said that, the irrational part of her brain wanted to run from this man, screaming at the top of her lungs if possible. She didn’t know why. Aside from a serious inability to understand personal space, he hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d actually been quite kind. Surprisingly. Men were mulish beasts, from what she could see. The ones who weren’t tended to be fops or too weak-willed to assert themselves, in any case. This man didn’t seem to be either.

“No, I don’t think it will be.” He frowned at the horse. “Your gelding needs to be able to move around to make sure he stays warm enough. He won’t be happy tied to a post like this. And he needs feed. There’s a barn around the corner. If you’d prefer I put him there for you. And we can’t leave your saddle in the rain.”

A frown furrowed her brow. “You know this area well, sir?”

A slow smile spread over his lips. “You might say that. I live in the mansion a few feet up the road.”

~~~

Well, that’s it for this week! You guys know the drill. If you would like to give feedback or share parts of your own works-in-progress, feel free to do so in the comments. I’d love to see what you all are up to.