The Richest Heart

Chapter 6

Emma huffed and puffed. The road was steep, and the air was cold. She always climbed that hill in the evenings. It wound up and up to a little house in the woods. But today, she was more tired than usual. Mother was still in her cleaning mood. And for a couple of days now, she and Lizzy had worked extra hard getting the house sparkling clean. Now, the girl was heading up to the home of an old lady to help her with some more chores.

Emiline let out a weary sigh. All she really wanted to do was go home and curl up with a good book. But she had just finished her last novel, and now she was unbearably bored.

Susan will have to lend me another book! she thought excitedly. Maybe another book of poems or a mystery! She shivered and folded her arms to keep warm. I sure hope Mrs. Winston's house is warm. I'm freezing!

Suddenly, the distant sound of horse hooves caught her attention.

"Who would be riding a horse up here?" Emiline asked herself aloud.

The road came to a dead end at Mrs. Winston's house, and it was rare for the old lady to get visitors. Now, the girl's mind buzzed with curiosity. Who could it be? Was it a knight in shining armor? Or a gentleman out for an evening ride? Her heart gave a happy leap as a wonderful thought came to her. "Whoever it is, maybe he'll give me a ride!" she exclaimed. She was so tired of walking. "After all," she added hopefully, "that's what all good gentlemen do."

She stopped and waited expectantly. Before she knew it, the horse's footsteps were thundering closer and closer. But instead of slowing its pace and coming to a majestic halt before her, the horse raced past without a moment's pause. Mud clods flew through the air. Emiline gave a startled scream and covered her face as the sludge splattered against her dress and arms.

"Whoa!" she heard the rider's voice cry. At the sound of Emiline's shriek, he gave his reins a tug, and the horse stopped with a wild whiny.

Emma gasped in horror as she looked down at her mud speckled clothes. She was filthy! How could anyone be so careless?

"Sorry Emma!" a boy called. "I didn't see you there!"

Emiline looked up with a frown. There, sitting tall on the strong stallion's back, was Peter McDougall. She should have known it would be him. Every evening, he met her on the road to Mrs. Winston's house. The lady had hired Peter to do some of the jobs that were too hard for Emiline.

"That's because you were going too fast!" Emma said in a pouty voice. "You and that horrible horse could have trampled me!"

Peter laughed, as if she was joking. "That isn't likely," he said. "You would've moved outta the way. Besides, it wouldn't have been my fault," he added, pulling the reigns back tighter. "Storm's the one who keeps runnin' so fast." The horse was moving around impatiently, as if he wanted to be free from his rider and saddle. His eyes flashed with a furious rebellion as his young master tried to keep control. For a moment, Emiline didn't say a word.

"Come on Emma," Peter laughed. "You can't be angry over a little mud!"

A smirk took away the frown on the girl's face. She really couldn't be mad at Peter. He was as wild as the horse he was riding, but he always meant well. Now, his voice called in a coaxing way.

"If you hurry, I'll give you a ride to Mrs. Winston's house!"

Emiline's eyes widened with a little fear. She didn't know if it would be safe to ride such a bad-tempered horse. But she was still tired, and she didn't like the thought of walking the rest of the way. After a moment, she hurried forward.