“It’s made for you, specifically, and for Alastar. For the pair of you.”
“But—”
“Well, I didn’t know, did I, the others would be after buying the car for you, and this was meant for your birthday.”
If he’d offered her a pirate’s chest of gold and jewels she’d have been less stunned. “You . . . You had this made for me, for my birthday?”
His brows drew together, just short of a glower. “A horsewoman of your caliber should have her own saddle, and a fine one.”
When she said nothing, he lifted the saddle, turned it over. “See, it’s your name there.”
Gently, she brushed her fingers over her name. Just Iona, she thought. Just her first name, and a symbol of flames beside it—Alastar’s name, and a trinity knot, across from it.
“I know a man who does the work,” Boyle continued, flustered when the silence dragged out. “The leather work, and the . . . ah, well, it seemed fitting to me.”
“It’s beautiful. It’s the most beautiful gift.”
“You’d sold your own.”
“That’s right.” She looked at him then, just looked. “To come here.”
“So . . . sure now you have another. And if we’re to do this tomorrow, you should have it. You and Alastar should use it.” He started to turn it over again, secure it. Iona put a hand over his.
“It’s much more than another saddle. Much more to me.” She rose on her toes, brushed her lips over one of his cheeks, the other, then lightly over his lips. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, of course, and happy birthday again. I’ve things to see to now. Fin’ll be keeping an eye out, as he let me know he and Branna are done for today.”
“All right. Thank you, Boyle.”
“As you’ve said.”
She let him go. She had a lesson to prepare for. And decisions to make.
* * *
SHE WALKED OVER TO FIN WHEN HER STUDENT LEFT. Gave a short sigh. “I didn’t give her my best today.”
“I wager she’d disagree. And if you’re a bit distracted today, there’s cause enough.”
“I guess.” She glanced toward the rooms over the garage. “And you and Branna?”
“Did what we set out to do, with little drama. That’s a blessing in itself. I’ll take you back to the stables if you’re wanting your car, then follow you home to be safe and sure.”
“Oh, thanks, but . . . I want to— I need to . . . I have to talk to Boyle. About something. He can take me home, I think.”
“All right then.” With an easy smile rather than the laugh in his heart, Fin took Alastar’s reins. “I’ll just see to our boy here.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I’ll enjoy it. And I’ll say he and I have things to discuss as well.”
“You do talk to him, and the other horses. The way I can.”
“I do, yes.”
“And the hawks—your own, Connor’s, the others. Kathel, our hound. Even Bugs. All of them.”
Fin moved his shoulders, a kind of half shrug that managed to be elegant and a little sad. “They’re all mine, and none of them mine. There’s no guide for me, as there is for you. No connection that intimate. But, well, we understand each other. Go on now, say what you need to say to Boyle.”