Today's Reading
They paused outside a row of stalls with a dozen pregnant mares casually looking on. The scent of straw, hay, and horse comforted her.
The familiarity of the setting did little to ease the effect of Bret's piercing green eyes. As she studied him further, a fresh scar along his jawline stood out, the pink edges of the wound indicating it had healed only recently. A matching scar peeked out from the hairline on his forehead. She didn't recall seeing that back in July when he'd asked her to dinner.
"Won't you allow me to apologize?" The frown at the edges of his lips and the crinkle between his eyes lent credence to his genuine regret.
But she'd spent weeks burying the memory and pain of being jilted at the restaurant. What good would come from dredging it all up?
"We have bigger worries now, Mr. Conway." She straightened her shoulders, pushing away the ache and stiffness. "Thank you for seeing us home. I'm certain Filip, the director, will provide you with a vehicle to get back to town—"
"What is going on here?" a heavily accented voice cut in, loud boot steps echoing down the paved aisle.
Bret and Adia turned at the same time. Adia stepped toward her employer and mentor. "Director—"
Filip held up a hand. The man, though in his sixties, was tall and lean and carried himself as confidently as a young international show champion—which he was several times over. His skin was darkened and freckled from years of working in the sun.
His gaze narrowed on the British man beside her. "Conway? What are you doing here?"
"Director Maier." Bret stepped forward and held out a hand in greeting.
The older man's face burst into a rare, enthusiastic smile, and he gave an even rarer jovial laugh. He pulled Bret into a hug and slapped his back. "It's been too long, my friend."
Adia glanced between them, and her heart sank. Janow and the nearby towns were a tight and small community, so how was it these two men knew each other when she'd known nothing of this Bret Conway?
She cleared her throat. "You're acquainted?"
Filip turned to her with a tilted grin and sparkling gray eyes. "Mr. Conway here has done several stories on the farm over the years. He's a big proponent of our work and quite an accomplished horseman himself."
That last little bit caught her attention, but she smothered her interest. No more distractions.
Filip crossed his arms. "As happy as I am to see you, why are you here?"
Bret glanced at Adia. "Just helping your trainer and her assistant get home from the market."
Filip angled his head at her. "What happened to your forehead?"
Adia shook the question off, ashamed enough by the incident. She didn't need Filip to learn that Lyra had bested her. "Filip, the Germans are close. We need to move the horses out of here."
Filip's smile faded, the light in him extinguished. He looked at Bret. "Is this true?"
Bret put his hands in his pockets. His jaw flexed. "We've seen an increased number of reconnaissance planes. The armed forces have settled in Danzig, but they'll most likely advance south over the next few days."
A flutter filled her chest as everything he said only validated her plan. But as he continued, her hope flew away.
"Your horses aren't any safer on the roads." His voice was deep and foreboding. "You'd best tell any nonessential staff to leave while they have a chance. Then hunker here with the horses and a select few men." He sent Adia a pointed glance.
She straightened her spine and shook off his words, stepping close to Filip. "You know what happened to the horses in the Great War. We can't just sit here and let that happen once more."
"You needn't remind me." Filip tensed and anger flashed across his features. "I bear the scars—same as Janow, same as the meager herd I have cobbled together over the past twenty years from the ashes of that war."
Bret shifted. "I was not aware you were here during that time, Director."
Filip glared at them both. "I, like the entire stock of Janow, barely survived. You don't need to tell me the stakes. Even so"—he looked at Adia—"I'm not sure how we could manage two hundred and fifty horses on the road, even with a full staff, which I doubt we'll have after news of this invasion spreads."
"We can offer more money, use family members to help corral the horses." Adia held out her palms in desperation. "The foals will stick with their mothers. We can herd the stallions in a smaller group a fair distance behind. I've already reached out to Antek Dabrowski. He lives near the Soviet border, southeast, near the marshes. His farm can accommodate all our horses."
Bret shook his head. "A herd of horses is too big a target from the air—you might never reach the Bug River. There are rumors of hundreds, even thousands of German planes. Fighters and bombers. This won't be like anything seen in the Great War."
It would be far worse.
This excerpt ends on page 33 of the paperback edition.
Monday we begin the book ACROSS THE AGES by Gabrielle Meyer.
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