The Gossamer Cord by Philippa Carr

stood perfectly still. I slipped rather inelegantly out of the saddle and fell to the ground. I could sense the tension in the mare, but she was well trained. If she had galloped off at that time I should have been badly injured, for my foot was caught in the stirrup. Hastily I dislodged it and just at that moment I heard the sound of hoofbeats.
    As I scrambled to my feet I saw a rider coming toward me. He pulled up sharply, slipped out of the saddle, and gazed at me in horrified surprise.
    Then he cried: “Are you all right?”
    “I think so.”
    “Any pain anywhere?”
    “I don’t think so. I just slid down.”
    He looked at me anxiously for a moment. “Seems all right. Nothing broken…”
    “Oh, no. It wasn’t violent enough for that. My horse was standing still when I fell.”
    He laid a hand on Starlight and said: “She did well. Didn’t you see the tree?”
    “It fell just as we came up.”
    “That gale,” he said, and added: “Look, she’s cast a shoe.”
    “Oh, dear. What, er…?”
    “You can’t go far like that.”
    I looked at him blankly.
    “The smithy is close by,” he said. “He’d shoe her for you. It’s the only thing to do.”
    I looked perplexed, and he went on: “You’re new here?”
    “Yes.”
    “I thought so. Staying nearby, are you?”
    “Yes. At Tregarland’s.”
    “Oh.” He looked amused, and regarded me thoughtfully. “There’s only one thing to do. If you are feeling up to it, I’ll take you along to the smithy. It’s fortunate for you that you didn’t take a toss. She must have pulled up with some precision.”
    He turned to Starlight.
    “You’re a good old lady, you are. Full marks.” The mare seemed to understand. She nuzzled her nose in his hand and he patted her again.
    “She’ll be all right,” he went on. “We’ll get her to the smithy. Let’s see if you are all right, too.” He looked at me steadily. “Sure there’s no pain anywhere?”
    “No, none. I’m a little shaken, I suppose.”
    “That’s natural.”
    “You’re very kind.”
    “I’m responsible in a way. That tree’s on my land.”
    “Your…land…?”
    He smiled ruefully. “Actually, you’re trespassing.”
    “Oh…I’m sorry. Then you must be…”
    “Jowan Jermyn. You look taken aback.”
    “I…had heard your land adjoined Tregarland’s. I am so sorry.”
    “I apologize on behalf of my tree. Now, are you sure you’re all right? If so, let’s go. The sooner that mare gets a new shoe the better.”
    I took stock of him as we walked along. He was as tall as Gordon Lewyth, but he lacked Gordon’s massive frame, and was rather slender. He had regular features, merry blue-gray eyes and an easy-going, pleasant expression. I thought: So this is the enemy? How fortunate that he does not extend his venom to Tregarland guests.
    I was still shaken by my fall and this following on immediately made me feel a little light-headed.
    As we walked across the field, he said: “Something will have to be done at once about that tree. Others on the estate may be in a similar state. Very dangerous. The gales here are a menace.”
    “I imagine so. Something happened on the Tregarland farm. A roof or a fence or something.”
    “Not only theirs, I imagine. How are you feeling now?”
    “All right, thank you.”
    “You’re shaken up a bit, I expect. You need a stiff brandy; there’s an inn close to the blacksmith’s shop…appropriately called Smithy’s. We’ll look in there and get that brandy.”
    “I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you. I should have been completely bewildered if you hadn’t come along.” Then I found myself laughing.
    “It is amusing?” he said.
    “Yes. This morning, in the town, I dropped my glove and, because I picked it up myself, I was told I should meet a stranger whom it would be better for me not to. It seems like a reversal of the prophecy.”
    “Well, if that tree hadn’t fallen, we shouldn’t have met in the field. So you could say it