"Clark? Are you in here?" Lois called out to him late the next morning.
Clark picked his head up from where he was bent over, examining the shoes of Nicodemus, Lord Lane's bay stallion. He patted the horse, letting the beast know it was okay to put his foot back down.
"In here, milady," he called back. "I'm in with Nicodemus."
He heard her approaching and he stood tall, wiping his hands on a handy rag. He opened the door to Nicodemus' stall, stepped out, and latched the door again.
"Good morning, milady," he greeted her, mindful that Lord Lane was trailing along after her.
"Good morning," she offered in return. "How was your first night here?"
"Excellent, milady. Thank you," he offered sincerely. "Good morning, milord," he said as Lord Lane caught up with his daughter.
"Good morning. I see you've already delved into your work. Good man. That's what I like to see," the man said, looking pleased. "How are the horses today?"
"Very well, milord. A few of them are in need of new shoes. Nicodemus, in particular, is in desperate need."
Samuel frowned. "It seems I was right. Frederick's eyesight isn't what it once was. A shame."
"Shall I call for the farrier?" Clark asked.
"Frederick will give you the information," Lord Lane said with a nod.
"As you wish, milord."
"Any others?"
Clark nodded. "Yes, milord. I've spent all morning checking the horses, one by one. Whisper needs shoes. So do Kensington, Rose, Archer, and Lance." He paused for a moment, embarrassed by the next admission. "And Merlin."
Samuel's frown deepened. "That's a lot of horses. It seems you came along just in time to take over the duties of stable master. I thank you for the information."
"You're welcome, milord. Also, I checked on Stardance. I think she'll foal within a week or two. It's rare for a horse to give birth this late in the season, but I've seen it before."
"She's always foaled late for some reason. This will be her third."
"Fourth," Lois corrected. "The last one died during the birth, remember, Father?"
A look of sudden remembrance came over Lord Lane's face. "Yes, yes. I remember now. It was a rough birth. Both of them nearly died."
Lois nodded. "He was a beautiful little gray colt too. It was a real shame."
"I will do all I can to ensure that this baby survives," Clark vowed. "There's not much else for me to report. Everyone else seems happy and healthy. Even Merlin seems to have settled in quite nicely."
"Good," Samuel replied. He took a few seconds to take stock of his stable. Then his eyes settled back on Clark. "So, my daughter tells me that you wish to learn how to read and write."
Clark cast his eyes downward, since he was unable to read Lord Lane's neutral expression. "It would be nice, milord, though not necessary. She offered to teach me, and, with your blessing, I would love the opportunity to better myself, even in such a small way. I've always loved hearing stories. To be able to read a book of them would be wonderful. If milord approves." He knew he was babbling now, but he felt like he had to defend his desire to better himself. "And there's always a chance that I could be able to help you if I knew..."
Samuel cracked a small smile and put up a hand, stopping Clark's rambling. "You know something, Clark? I like you. You're a good, simple, honest man. Of course I approve of you learning to read and write. I must warn you, however, if I feel like you and my daughter are getting too close..."
He didn't have to finish his statement. Clark could hear the rest of it in his own mind well enough.
"Milord, I assure you I only wish your daughter's friendship," he heard himself say.
It wasn't a total lie. In his heart, he wanted to be free to love Lois and be loved by her in return. But he would never do anything to act upon his desires.
"With your permission, of course," Clark added.
Lord Lane nodded. "I've never prohibited my children from befriending whomever they deem worthy of it."
"Thank you, milord," Clark said, feeling like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
"Now then," Lord Lane said, straightening his back a touch. Clark wondered if the man had a bad back, like his own father had. "My daughter and I need a carriage made ready."
"Aren't you forgetting me?" James asked, appearing from behind his father. He grinned impishly.
"I thought you said you weren't interested in coming with us." Lord Lane shook his head, though a hint of a smile played around his lips.
"Isn't Lady Catherine supposed to be in town today?" Lois asked sweetly.
"Maybe," James replied evasively. "What's it to you?"
"James has been positively lusting after Lady Catherine ever since he first met her two summers ago," Lois hastily explained. "How many times has she turned down your offers to dance, or have dinner together, or take a walk with you, James?"
Clark could see the humor in Lois' eyes as she teased her brother. He mentally shook his head in amusement as well. Was this what it was like to have siblings? he wondered.
"I'll have your carriage ready in just a few minutes," Clark promised, slipping away before James could make a retort.
He chose the enclosed carriage for Lord Lane and his children. Though the sun was unseasonably warm that day, the wind was getting brisker by the hour. He thought the walls of the carriage - as opposed to an open-air carriage - would be appreciated. Orpheus and Tango were hitched up to the carriage and Clark alerted Donovan, the driver, that his services would be needed. And not a moment too soon. Lord Lane strode out into the courtyard just as Donovan was climbing into his seat.
"Not bad," he said with an appraising eye. "You truly do have a way with horses, Clark. I've never seen a carriage readied so quickly."
Clark bowed his head in acknowledgement. "Thank you."
Clark watched discreetly as the carriage drove off. Then he busied himself with other tasks, hoping to make the day fly by. He wanted nothing more than for the sun to go down so he and Lois could begin the process of teaching him how to read.
Reading!
He could scarcely believe that he would soon be unlocking the secrets of letters he barely understood. He was going to receive an actual education - even if only a partial one. It was still more than he could have ever have dreamed for himself. He knew his parents had hated the fact that they couldn't provide him with an education. There was always something to be done around the farm and never enough money to go around. An education had become a luxury that was outside of their reach.
"Things are really turning around for me," he whispered to himself in the empty barn, but the words were more for his parents than for himself.
He hated to admit it, even to himself, in the privacy of his own thoughts, but perhaps being sold into slavery was one of the best things that could have happened to him. Especially given his lack of prospects after the raiders had shattered his future.
So Clark worked hard, and was happy to do so. After all, how could he complain? He loved horses - working with them was a dream. He had a place to live. He had all the food he could wish for - never again would he be forced to go hungry. He had free access to being Lois' friend. That, more than anything, made the hard labor easy to bear and even enjoyable.
Lord Lane and his children arrived back home just as the sun was setting. Clark had finished his labors for the day and was simply enjoying brushing down Rose - Lady Ellen's tan and white mare. He left off the brushing and focused his attention on the two horses hitched to the carriage. By the time he was done seeing to their needs, dusk had fallen. Clark closed the stable doors and headed back to his own chamber to wash up before eating.
He had an enjoyable dinner with some of the other servants. He was already beginning to like having meals with the others, and was already getting to know their various personalities. Francois, the chef, was a particularly jovial man. Clark liked his company a lot. Lisette, one of the scullery maids, had taken an instant liking to Clark and had promised that if ever he wanted more than his fair share of food, she would slip it to him. And Johan, the groundskeeper, was a natural comedian who kept everyone laughing whenever he was nearby.
Clark was just poring over the illustrations in the book Lois had given him for the second time when she knocked on the door, calling his name in the same moment. Any tiredness sloughed off Clark as he sprang off the bed and dashed to the door. He opened it to find her shyly smiling at him. A wooden box was tucked under one arm.
"Lois," he breathed, in awe every time he saw her. "Come in."
"Thank you." She made her way into the room and to the same spot on the bed that she'd occupied the previous night. She set the box down beside her. "Are you ready for your first lesson?"
Clark nodded, swallowing hard. He hadn't thought he'd be nervous, but here he was, his heart hammering, his palms moist with sweat, and butterflies in his stomach.
"I think so," he replied.
"Are you okay? You look a little...well, nervous," she observed.
"I guess I am. I'm not sure why. This is....it's a dream come true. Learning how to read...spending time with you." He clamped his mouth shut, horrified at the words that had come spilling, unbidden, from his mouth. "I'm sorry," he immediately apologized. "I didn't mean to overstep my bounds like that."
But Lois shook her head. "No, don't apologize. The truth is, teaching you how to read, it's a great excuse to get to spend time with you too." She smiled and took his head. "Don't be nervous. It's just you and me, that's all."
You and me. That's is exactly why I'm nervous, he thought to himself. I didn't know love could do this to a man.
"Right," he said instead, agreeing with her. "Just you and me. I just hope..." He closed his eyes and took a breath before his confession. "I just hope I don't completely embarrass myself as you try to teach me."
"I'm sure you'll be fine," she encouraged him.
"I hope so," Clark replied, trying to will his nerves to be still.
"Before we start, I wanted to give you something. Here," Lois said, patting the wooden box next to her and pushing it in his direction. "I think you'll like this."
"Lois, you've given me more than enough," he said, wondering what she could possibly be giving him now, and how he could ever repay her for everything she'd already done for him.
She laughed lightly, a sound more precious to Clark than all the riches in the world. "Just open it," she encouraged.
"All right," he acquiesced. He took up the box, opened the lid, and gasped. "They're beautiful," he said in awe.
Nestled in the box were half a dozen different woodworking tools. Clark reverently took the finest of the knives out and examined it. It was a work of art, in and of itself. The bone handle fit perfectly into his calloused hands. The blade gleamed with newness and looked sharp enough to slice translucent slivers out of wood. The weight felt perfect as he hafted the knife - not too heavy and unwieldy, not too light and flimsy.
"You really like them?" Lois asked, shyly hopeful.
Clark nodded. "They're the finest tools I've ever held in my hands. I'm so used to tools that are merely functional - the same knife I used to use to shape my animals I also used to use to cut leather, skin pelts, and any number of other tasks. To own something like this for just one purpose...it never even crossed my mind. Thank you, Lois."
"I'm glad you like them. When Father and I went into town today, getting these knives was the first thing I did. As soon as I saw them, I knew they had to be the ones I bought for you. I could just see you using them to make more of your figurines." She was almost babbling as she blushed.
"They're perfect," he assured her, deeply touched that she'd taken pains to pick knives she thought she could see him liking. "I can't wait to use them."
"How does that work, exactly?"
"What do you mean?" Clark asked.
"The carving," Lois elaborated. "How do you choose what to carve?"
Clark smiled and chuckled a little. "It's a little hard to explain. But, well, sometimes, when I pick up a piece of wood, I can see an animal inside, just waiting for me to cut it out."
"I'm not sure I understand," Lois admitted.
"Let me try to show you."
Clark stood and crossed to the hearth. Beside it, a large metal semi-circle held a supply of wood. Clark picked up a couple of pieces that were on top and brought them over to the bed. He held them out to Lois.
"Here. See this one? See the ridge here? It's the top fin of a trout. And this one? That long, squiggly piece at the end is the tail of a cat. And this? See how it has the basic shape of a skunk?"
He pointed out each of the distinguishing features on each piece of wood as he showed them to her. She peered at them for a moment before finally nodding.
"Yes," she said slowly. "I think I do see what you mean." She ran her finger over the ridge that would soon become the fin of a fish. "Especially the trout." She looked up and gave him a bright smile. "I'd love to see them, once you've had a chance to carve them."
"Absolutely," he agreed enthusiastically, as he took the wood back and put it away, where it was sure not to be mistaken for firewood. "It's the least I can do. After all, there would be no more animal figurines if not for your generous gift." He gestured to the box containing his brand new knives.
He rummaged through the pile of wood, selecting a few fat logs, in which he saw no potential animals lurking. He carefully situated them on the fire so that they easily caught and began to burn. The light leapt higher in his chamber, and it grew warmer. He wiped his hands on the rag he used to dry his hands after washing up, then he returned to the bed, sitting in the spot he'd commanded earlier.
"Shall we begin?" Lois asked.
Clark nodded. "One thing before we start. I wanted to say that you were right. I do love the paintings in the books. They're gorgeous."
Lois visibly brightened even further. "Oh, good! I'm so glad you liked them!"
"I do." He nodded and took a deep breath. "All right, I think I'm ready now."
And so, Clark's first lesson began. At first, he wasn't so sure that agreeing to Lois' lessons in reading was a good idea. It was difficult to get a handle on how the letters interacted with each other to form the words that were so familiar to him. But Clark had always been a fast learner, and by the end of those first two hours, he could already point out several words he'd come to memorize. He had to thank his poor, farm life upbringing for that. From an early age, he'd been forced to memorize everything. He and his parents were simply incapable of writing down lists of things they needed when they were in town. If they wanted to make sure they picked up everything they needed without having to make a second, long trip into town, they would have to remember it the first time. As a result, the three of them had trained their minds as much as the hard farm work had trained and strengthened their bodies.
"I think that's a good place to stop for the night," Lois said as they came to the end of a chapter. "You did great, Clark. I'm really impressed. How did you like it?"
"Honestly? I thought I'd made a mistake in agreeing to this at first. I've never felt so...so stupid and clumsy in my life. But now? I really love it, Lois. I love reading. Or, rather, I will, once I learn more so that I truly am reading on my own."
"I'm glad," Lois replied, patting his knee affectionately. "You're catching on fairly quickly. I can't believe how many words you picked up tonight. You'll be tearing through books on your own in no time, I'm sure of it."
"I hope so. There's so much out there that I'd love to learn about. Things I've only ever heard about in passing. Thank you for taking the time to teach me."
"You're welcome. And now, I really should get going."
Clark nodded. "It's getting late. I'm sure you have plenty of things to keep you busy tomorrow. And I have the farrier coming to shoe the horses, first thing in the morning. I should get some sleep."
Lois stood. "Goodnight, Clark."
"Goodnight, Lois."
He saw her out of his chamber and leaned against the door once it was shut again. His heart ached at having to say goodnight to her. Once again, he mentally admonished himself for having fallen in love with such an unattainable woman. He made himself ready for bed, but knew sleep would not be coming just yet, so he pulled out one of the pieces of wood he'd set aside. Trying out his new knives, he soon had the rough shape of a trout in his hands. He set it on the mantle and put away the knives when he was done for the night. The wood shavings he'd created were carefully swept up and thrown on the fire, since there was no use in wasting perfectly usable wood. Then he went to bed, visions of Lois dancing through his dreams.
***
"How did the first lesson go?" Lucy asked with interest when Lois went by her room later that night to check on her.
"Really well. He's smart, Lucy. Very smart."
"And handsome..." Lucy prompted.
Lois sighed dreamily. "Yes, he is. Very handsome."
"So, when do you think Father will take me into the market to find myself a little toy of my own?" Lucy teased her.
"He is not my toy!" Lois defended herself. "He's a friend," she added in a softer tone.
"Right," Lucy said. "Just a friend."
Lois knew her sister well enough to know that Lucy wasn't convinced. She let it slide, however, not wanting to get into a discussion about what secret desires her heart may or may not have had.
"I gave him the woodworking tools I picked up in the market today," she said instead. "I think he's eager to get back to his carvings. You should have seen the way he was beaming with happiness."
"I can imagine," Lucy replied with a grin. "I imagine he looked a lot like you do right now."
"Lucy!"
"What? It's the truth."
Lois sighed again. "Is it really that obvious?"
"Only...a lot. You have to make sure Father and Mother don't figure out that you're falling for the help. And a poor slave at that."
"He's not a slave. Not anymore," Lois said quietly. "And he won't ever be again. Not if I can help it."
"Lois, listen to yourself! What is it about this guy?"
"Clark? Clark is...it's hard to describe. Ever since he helped us get back home a week or so ago, I can't get him out of my mind. It's like some force is pulling me toward him. I can't describe it. It's almost like I've always known him."
"I think you had too much wine with dinner," Lucy tried to joke.
But Lois shook her head. "It's not the wine. It's just...a gut feeling around him. Like we're supposed to be in each other's lives."
"I just don't want to see you get hurt," Lucy said tenderly, taking her sister's hands in her own. "Especially given the fact that Father seems bound and determined to see you wedded to Lord Luthor."
Lois scowled. "I know. Don't remind me," she said sourly.
"Look, Lois, I don't want to be the one to ruin your happiness, no matter what that happiness might entail. I just...I worry about you."
Lois smiled tenderly. "I appreciate it. But I'm your older sister. I should be the one worrying about you."
"We're sisters," Lucy replied. "It doesn't matter who is older. We both look out for each other."
Lois smiled again and nodded. "You're right." Then, to change the subject, "How's your leg feeling?"
Lucy shrugged. "Not bad. I can't wait until I'm fully healed. I mean, I'm grateful that I can get out of my room a little bit during the day, but I'm going stir crazy in here."
"Tell you what. Tomorrow after breakfast, I'll bring you some books and maybe we can even play a game or something," Lois promised.
Lucy nodded. "I'd like that. You sure your boyfriend wouldn't mind?" She was teasing, Lois knew.
Lois stood from her seat on the edge of the bed. "Goodnight, Lucy."
But the conversation with her sister stuck with Lois all night long. She wished she knew why she was so drawn to the former farmer and now stable master. Yes, he was young and handsome and well built. And yes, he was sweet and kind and honest and open. But that, on its own, couldn't explain the soul-deep connection she felt to the man.
Forget him, she told herself as she slipped beneath the warm blankets on her bed. You can never be with him.
But her heart laughed at her mind and she dreamed of making a life with Clark.
To Be Continued...
