Leaping Hearts(18)

She felt herself becoming breathless. “My eyes?”

He nodded. “I’m usually wary of people. But it’s hard to be suspicious of the clear blue sky.”

A.J. gulped, feeling as if she were on the edge of a cliff. And that leaping off was a really great idea.

Devlin continued. “I stayed with Mercy when the vet gave her the shot. Her head was in my lap as the light went out of her eyes. I told myself that the pain was leaving her, draining away as the beat of her heart got slower and slower. That her agony would soon be over. It didn’t really help.” His eyes drifted out of the bank of windows. “I feel selfish about that. That I wanted her to stay even though she was suffering.”

“She was your partner. Of course you didn’t want to lose her.”

His gaze shifted back to her and then he moved. She thought he was going to stand up, but instead she felt the touch of his fingers on the top of her hand. She froze. Slowly, he traced the fine blue veins that ran just under her skin. It was the softest of contact, barely more than a brush of air, but it devastated her. She felt as though he had reached in and taken her heart into his palm.

They stayed there at the table, linked by his gentle explorations, until the grandfather clock in the hallway sounded eight o’clock. The chiming broke the mood and they came back from the place where their hearts had been linked.

“Well, I guess I better go,” A.J. said. She didn’t bother to hide her disappointment.

“Where are you headed?” He sat back and the contact of their hands was broken.

“I don’t really know.” A.J. stood up. Taking her mug to the sink, she rinsed it out and put it on the counter. “Thanks again for the stall and the couch.”

“You’re welcome.”

She paused on her way out of the room, hoping he’d say something or come and see her off. He just stayed at the table, though, drinking his coffee as the sun poured into the kitchen. She lifted her hand in a wave she wasn’t sure he saw, and left.

While she walked down to the barn, she wondered if she’d ever get the chance to see him again. She didn’t think it was going to be soon and she knew it wouldn’t be in the quiet intimacy of his kitchen. Both were, she thought, losses to mourn over. All it had taken was twenty minutes in the morning glow with him and she felt like she had a sense of what true love could feel like.

Sabbath greeted her with a whinny when she stepped inside the barn.

“Time to get you back in the trailer,” she told him, feeling depressed. “No use having you get used to this roomy stall when I’m going to have to vacuum-pack you like peanuts in a jar for the foreseeable future.”

She picked up his halter and was slipping it on over his ears when she heard Devlin come into the stable.

“We’ll be out of your hair in a moment,” A.J. said, without looking up. She led the stallion out of his stall.

“I’ll get you and the horse to the Qualifier but that’s as far as I’m going.”

A.J. stopped short. “What?”

“You can board him here for the going rate and I’ll charge you a fair trainer’s fee.”

She couldn’t believe what he was saying.

“Really?”

He nodded.

“That’s fantastic!” Her heart pounded with happiness and she wanted to throw her arms around him. “But why the change of heart?”

“I think I’m ready to…” He didn’t go any further. “We’ll start today. Where’s your tack?”

A.J.’s mind started spinning. “At the Sutherland compound. And I need to return the trailer.”

“Fine. Take it back and be ready to ride in one hour. I’ll meet you in the ring.”

Devlin left and she looked at Sabbath. The stallion returned her stare quizzically, as if he knew their direction had taken a sharp turn.

“It looks like you have a home after all,” she said, grinning. “At least for the next two months.”

She put the stallion back in the stall and checked a clock hanging on a side wall. If she rushed it, she could get over to Sutherland Stables, pick up all her things and still not have to deal with Peter. He’d be playing squash at his racquet club and wouldn’t show up for work until later in the morning.

When A.J. drove up to the compound, she was relieved that his sleek sedan was indeed nowhere in sight. In a smooth motion, she pulled the eighteen-wheeler into its parking space and hurried into her private tack room. In the course of packing up her gear, other riders stopped by, their curious eyes telling her that many had no idea why she was leaving. She found it difficult to answer their inquiries with anything other than shrugs and wobbly smiles. Her own complicated feelings did not fit easily into simple answers.

When there was a leaning pile of tack and supplies stacked up in the doorway, she brought around her car. The cherry red Mercedes convertible had been a birthday present from her father and, if truth be told, she didn’t like it very much. The slick European design and racy engine were all well and good if you were just going out for lunch but they didn’t mean squat when you had to move an entire horseload of stuff. What she really needed was a wide-bed truck but she knew it would have broken her father’s heart to give his gift back, so she’d kept the car.

Measuring her load of gear and the size of the backseat, A.J. shot an envious look at a pickup parked across the way. She quickly realized the only way everything was going to fit was if she put the top down. When she finished, there were horse blankets, leg wrappers, saddles and bridles sticking out of the backseat and draping over the sides of the car.