"I would like that very much," she said, finding it hard to look away even as he did so himself. Karen forced her gaze upon the mare. She was glad he hadn't heard her tell the mare she admired him, that would have made for an interesting situation. As it was, she was trying oh so hard not to be aware of him as a man. She was failing. She had butterflies in her belly every time he was near her, even as they tried to share a platonic meal here and there or simply talking. The widow was not blind to the widower.

She caught herself moving her gaze again to meet his, her dark ones warm and dancing in good cheer. "I am ready," she said, more to herself about something completely different than the horse but letting it sound like she meant walking. Her smile slowly died then as she realized again that she was gazing into his blues and picturing the two of them riding off into the sunset on one horse.