"Is William Devers a bad catch then?" Fortune asked boldly.

Rory chuckled again. "Nay, my lady. He's considered quite the pick of the district. Tall and handsome, he is, with a fine estate up in Lisnaskea which will one day be his own. Not as big as Maguire's Ford, mind you, but more than respectable. There'll be a lot of disappointed lassies the day he picks a wife and marries, I'm thinking."

Fortune grew silent now. So William Devers was considered desirable by the ladies. He probably had a large head to go with his large estate. She walked across the dock to where the gray gelding stood stamping his feet with impatience. Taking the animal by his bridle she looked directly into his eyes, her other hand rubbing his velvety muzzle. "Well now, laddie, you're a handsome fellow. I do believe we'll get on just fine. Ready for a good long run? I surely am, but you must behave yourself until we get out of the town and onto the high road. Then we'll race the wind, you and I!"

Rory Maguire watched the girl speaking softly with the horse. He had felt a strange feeling when he had first looked upon her. It was as if he knew her, and yet that was not possible. He had not quite yet shaken off the sensation but he approved her actions with the animal. Cupping his hands together he helped her to mount Thunder. "Up you go, my lady." Only as he boosted her was he suddenly aware that the horse did not have a lady's saddle, but the girl mounted astride, obviously used to riding that way. He untied the animal from its hitching ring.

Thunder danced a bit as he accepted the new weight upon his back. He tossed his head to test her mettle, but she held him firm, her hands resting with seeming lightness upon the reins, her knees pressing against the horse's sides, warning him, guiding him. "Easy, laddie," she soothed him, and his ears pressed back, listening to the soft voice, new but a moment ago, now familiar. He quieted.