Tuesday's tales - 19-03-13 - Tight

Welcome back to another Tuesday's Tales This week is picture prompt week. And always includes the extra challenge for our 'tale' to remain within a 300 word limit.
I appreciate both your visit and your feedback.

This week's offering is a continuation from last week's picture prompt which is a continuation of January's picture prompt tale. I hope you enjoy it. :-)
(Please note, as I haven't found names for my characters yet, this 'tale' is full of 'he' and 'she'.)

Aladdin’s lamp?

Was she going crazy?  Immediately she focussed on her thumb still brushing the surface of the silver horseshoe in her hand, and swore. Don’t be so ridiculous, she instructed herself. This imperious stranger wasn’t some genie from a bottle, or even a lamp, and certainly not some kind of genie from a horseshoe.

She studied the tight line of his lips; the anger radiating from him and the— confusion? Was that really confusion she spotted?  If not the guy was a consummate actor. And perhaps, she studied the man’s garb again, perhaps he was an actor, but if so she couldn’t imagine the motives behind his sudden appearance.

“I don’t know who you are, or what you are doing here, but I don’t have any servants or dogs and certainly no horses, so I suggest you take yourself off and find someone else to annoy.”

She didn’t see him move, only knew his grip on her arm threatened to break her wrist if she tried to free herself.

“No horses?” he demanded. “Then what are you doing with that?”

The man tried to snatch the shoe from her, but this time instinct had her moving too fast for him, and holding it at arm’s length.

“I found it…”

Stiffening her spine she clamped her lips shut. Why the blazes should she explain herself to this arogant moron?

“Found it?” His gaze shifted from her face to the horseshoe now sparkling in the sunshine. Releasing her so suddenly she almost lost her balance, she watched the blood leech from his face. Fighting a losing battle against her rising concern she forced herself to remain still when he sought for support and dropped into the nearest chair. His throat bobbled, his mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. He drew the back of one hand over his eyes, leaned forward and balanced his elbows on his knees and brought his hands together.

Resting his head on his steepled fingers he looked up at her.

“Where did you find that—” he paused, swallowed again and continued in a voice filled with…what, she wondered? Bewilderment?

“Where did you find that, and why do you claim it is yours?”

Why did the sight of the horseshoe disturb him so? And what had happened to the burst of anger, now replaced by bafflement. And why, she wondered did she find herself anxious to explain?

“There are some old stables at the back of the house which I use for my jewellery business,” she began. “When I arrived they were falling down, so I repaired— ” more like rebuilt, she thought. “I repaired them,” she said again. “Then I set up shelves and workbenches, all of which I use constantly.”

The remembered bemusement of reaching up for her spool of silver wire only to wrap her fingers round the horseshoe shivered down her spine.

“Everything has its place and this—” Vehemence filled her voice now. “This should not have been where I found it.”

“You simply returned it to the wrong place” His cold, dismissive voice transformed her bemusement to anger.

“And how could I do that when I’d never seen it before?” She waved the offending shoe in his face then snatched it away before he could grab it. Spinning away she stared out of the window before facing him again.

A movement beyond the open door had her jaw dropping. Who, how and when had someone closed the wrought iron gates? And more to the point, how had the padlock managed to snap closed again?

 

Thank you for reading another snippet this week, and please hop on over to read everyone's offering for this week's Tuesday's Tales prompt.

Notification

There will be NO Tuesday's Tales on the 26th March (next week).

I do hope you will rejoin us on April 2nd