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Her aunt’s expression had grown serious.
    “We were young and passionate and we all three bonded with one another on that journey. At times of peril, human nature brings you closer. I was their woman, and they were as one man to me, all those years ago.”
    Eleanor had never heard the likes of it. Two men, as one? Oh yes, she’d witnessed all manner of relationships in her travels, having encountered hedonists and blue stockings – not to mention all manner of accepted practices in countries abroad. At the grand old age of nineteen she assumed there was little left in the world to astonish her. Apparently she’d been wrong. She should have looked closer to home. Two men, as one? Eleanor rode on in stunned silence as she tried to absorb the information.
    This was why being close to James was easy for Frieda. It had always been the way of it. Had her father always loved Frieda, and not her mother? Or had he loved both women? Eleanor was truly astonished and tried to come to terms with the fact she was not as worldly as she’d once thought. Eventually she found the words to ask her next question.
    “If that is the case, how did you...” Her voice trailed off.
    “How did I decide who I should marry? Is that what you are trying to ask, Eleanor?” Frieda smiled gently at her, as if it were a completely natural question and it was always the woman who chose the man.
    Eleanor frowned. “Yes, I suppose it must have been difficult if you loved them both.” 
    “It would have been impossible for me to choose. Thankfully they decided.”  Her eyes glistened with the faint hint of tears. “Your father was the eldest, and David took me aside and told me James would have to return to England, to continue the family line. If they found the new land, which they did, it would be David’s beginning. Your grandfather had encouraged them to travel in their youth, but he wanted them back. In my heart I believe they wanted to have their adventure then return home together. When they met me things became complicated.” 
    She was quiet for a while, immersed in her memories.
    Eleanor tried to organize her thoughts, unsettled by Frieda’s words and what they revealed. She realized her picture of their relationships had been incomplete. Frieda drew her horse alongside Eleanor’s and took her hand.
    “I loved them both equally. It is difficult to explain now. We three understood each other well. There was trust. Circumstances forced the hand of fate, though. If things had been different, I might have had a beautiful daughter like you, Eleanor. As it was, David and I never had children.” 
    Eleanor sighed, beginning to understand the strength of Frieda’s feelings for her father. “You must consider me your daughter, Frieda. For in heart and spirit, that is what I am.” 
    The older woman squeezed her fingers and nodded, emotion welling within her. “That makes me happy, child. With you and Rivers in my life, it’s as if I’ve a daughter and a son, for he’s as much as that to me.”
    “Does he have family of his own?” Eleanor asked, her curiosity redirected at the mention of Rivers.
    “He doesn’t have contact with them,” Frieda replied, as she urged her horse on. “He’s rather silent on the matter of his past. I think there have been dark times for him which he would rather not revisit.”
    A handsome stranger with a mysterious past?
    Eleanor was captivated, her imagination running riot.
     
    * * *
     
    Rivers walked toward the stable as the two women returned. They were deep in conversation, conspiratorial, infectious laughter escaping to punctuate their words. He paused to watch them. Frieda, as ever the strong horsewoman, was sitting elegant and comfortable on her mount, her controlling hand on the rein assured. Eleanor was more at one with the animal she rode. She responded to the rhythm of the horse, following each graceful step of the creature with her own movement. As they drew to the end of their ride, she