Chapter Eleven: Clark’s Heart Begins to Stir

"Lana?"

"I'm here, Aunt Nell."

Six-year-old Lana poked her head out from the stables. She wore a low-brimmed hat, but even that could not conceal the natural beauty of her sun-kissed, wheat-toned skin.

"I'm feeding Tyson. He's been in a bit of a bad mood lately."

Tyson was a young foal on the ranch, and Lana loved to ride him around the grounds. Aunt Nell, however, always reminded her that she was too young for riding.

"You can give him some soybeans, but I already fed him this morning," a young woman said as she stepped out of the room. "I've been up since 6:15 to shovel manure, change the water, and feed the horses. It’s not easy work."

"That's why I can help you with some of the chores, Auntie," Lana said sensibly.

"No, you're still just a child. You should be enjoying a carefree life," Nell replied, walking over to pat Tyson on the rump. "You should be reading books or playing at the playground."

"I don't like those things. I like riding."

Nell smiled at her niece. "Riding isn't easy. Horses can be stubborn, crude, and timid animals. You spend a long time trying to teach an animal that cannot understand your inner anxiety, and sometimes, the horse will just kick you off."

Lana bit her lip. "Tyson isn't that kind of horse."

"Animals all have similar temperaments." Nell didn't pursue the topic further. Instead, she asked, "Your cold just cleared up; you should be resting in your room."

Though Lana desperately wanted to take Tyson for a secret ride, she swallowed her words when she saw the stern look on her aunt's face.

At noon, once her aunt had gone for a nap, Lana snuck into the stables and untied Tyson’s reins. Feeling satisfied, she rode the foal in circles around the ranch, imagining herself as the knight from her picture books—clad in a shirt, jeans, boots, and a cowboy hat.

Soon, the "young knight" was no longer satisfied with circling the ranch. She rode Tyson out of the gates and onto the town road. Despite being only six, she handled the horse with remarkable skill.

After circling the nearby roads a few times, Lana prepared to head back. Unexpectedly, one of Tyson's legs became entangled in a piece of string on the road. Startled, the horse let out a panicked whinny and bolted forward. Terrified, Lana hunched down, gripping the reins with all her might.

"Bang!"

The spooked horse dashed into the fields, and Lana, clutching the reins, was nearly thrown off. With her mind gone blank, she forgot every precaution her aunt had taught her about handling a frightened horse.

Nearby, Clark and Zod watched in horror as the horse bolted and Lana clung to the reins, swinging precariously. Zod looked at the broken kite string in his hand and then at the string tangled around the horse's hoof; he realized immediately that he had caused this. His kite string had fallen from the sky, snagged the hoof, and panicked the horse. He had ridden with his father and knew exactly what happened when a horse got spooked.

Swallowing hard, he shouted at Lana, "Hold on to the reins! Don't let go!"

Clark, meanwhile, stared at the scene in a daze.

"Crash!"

The panicked horse tore into a grove of trees. Lana kept her body pressed tightly against the horse's back, but she was still being whipped by branches. The jolting and the sensation of weightlessness made her feel as though she would be thrown off at any second. Scared out of her wits, tears streamed down her face.

Just as she felt she was about to be flung from the saddle, a figure suddenly darted into the woods.

"Thud!"

The moment Lana loosened her grip, the stranger leaped onto Tyson, grabbed the reins, and pulled Lana into his arms. Peter, having jumped onto the horse's back, gently pulled the reins to one side while reaching out with his other hand to steady the horse's mane. Feeling the tension, the horse tipped its head, gradually calmed down, and slowed to a halt.

Having regained control, Peter rode out of the woods. He had spent years living on the farm and had ridden plenty of horses. To a ranch cowboy, this was nothing more than a basic maneuver.

"Lana? Are you okay?" Peter asked, looking down at the little girl curled up in his arms, shivering with fright. He recognized Ms. Nell's niece. They hadn't seen each other in half a year, and he was surprised by how much she had grown.

Lana looked up, her eyes filled with tears. "Uncle Patrick?" She wiped her face, staring at him in amazement. She was still reeling from how Peter had suddenly flown in like a bird to mount the horse and restrain Tyson.

"Uncle Patrick, are you... are you a bird?" she asked, stuttering, having forgotten her fear for a moment.

"I'm no bird. I'm a knight who can fly," Peter said, patting her hair.

Girls were definitely different from boys. He found himself wishing that the infant from the spaceship that had crashed years ago had been a girl. Raising a girl would surely be less of a headache. They might still get into trouble, but they wouldn't be constant disasters like Zod and Clark.

He glanced down at the kite string still snagged on the horse's hoof.

Hearing Peter call himself a flying knight, Lana immediately thought of the handsome knights in her picture books. The image of those knights was quickly replaced by Peter's face. Her cheeks turned crimson.

Peter rode Tyson, holding Lana, as they emerged from the woods. Seeing Peter, Zod immediately ran over, clutching the kite. "Dad, you were so cool just now!" He had seen Peter subdue the spooked horse and thought his father was the coolest person alive.

"Is that so? Then who was it that spooked the horse?"

Under Peter's stern glare, Zod immediately shrank back. "Sorry, Dad. I didn't mean to," he apologized guiltily.

"Godfather, it was my fault. I was flying the kite and the line snapped," Clark confessed. He glanced at Lana in Peter's arms, his face turning bright red, and he looked down, mumbling, "It wasn't John's fault."

"Hmm?" Peter looked at Clark. *Why are you blushing?* He glanced suspiciously at little Lana in his arms, then noticed Clark sneaking glances at her.

"Sigh..." Peter took a deep breath. *Don't tell me this kid is already having his first crush? You're only six!*

He had always thought Zod was the little pervert—after all, in his past life, that kid had been a master of all trades and constantly challenged various "high-difficulty" maneuvers. He never expected that the seemingly honest and loyal Clark would be the little pervert instead!