Leaping Hearts(21)

To get her and the horse ready for the Qualifier, he was going to have to work the pair over a variety of jumps and combinations, and that meant there was going to be a lot of shuffling in that ring. Much as he hated to acknowledge his injury, he had to admit he couldn’t handle the job efficiently. It would save them a lot of downtime to have someone around who could reset the jumps if the horse faulted, change the combinations and haul feed. It looked as if he was going to have to call Chester.

Never thought I’d need to, Devlin marveled, shaking his head.

He and Chester had been together since Devlin had started out as a stable boy himself. The old man had great horse sense and was a tireless worker, and the two had been a terrific team. Letting his dear friend go after the accident had been one more loss for him to bear but Chester had always said he’d be back. Devlin hadn’t believed him.

Now things were different, he thought, hearing A.J. moving around outside.

Leaving the room, Devlin caught sight of her coming out of Sabbath’s stall and leading the stallion out to the crossties. She was wearing well-worn jeans that hugged her thighs and hips like a second skin. The sight of her legs flashing underneath his shirttails came to mind and he sucked back a groan of need.

It was going to be a long two months, working with someone he wanted so badly. And there was no doubt that they needed to keep things professional. He knew pursuing a relationship with her would put them both in a difficult, if not impossible, situation. The training they needed to do with the stallion was going to mean a grueling schedule of workouts and long hours. He was going to have to be objective about her riding and her efforts and they were both going to need to keep level heads, something that would be impossible if they became passionately involved. And passionately was the only way they’d become involved, given the explosion that had happened in front of the tack room.

Keep it down to business with her, he told himself as he went out to get another armload of gear.

Good luck, an inner voice taunted.

After Devlin finished unpacking the car, he picked off a battered clipboard from a hook on the wall next to the tack room. It had been as integral a part of his former training as his saddle and his boots, the place where he scribbled his thoughts and his plans. Cradling it for a moment in his hands, he was struck by how odd the familiar weight felt. He’d never thought he’d be holding it again. Sliding the stub of a pencil free from its top and feeling the rough texture where his teeth had chewed the wood ragged, he felt disconnected with his own past. How much time had he spent with the clipboard on his lap, deep in thought, planning his attack on another course? Laying siege for another victory.

More hours than the night has stars.

Devlin leaned up against the main door of the stable, once again putting lead to a page. He became lost in his thoughts, seeing jumps in his mind and transcribing the pathways of flying hooves. Frowning in concentration, he was carried away, back to a world he remembered so well. And had missed so badly.

From under Sabbath’s belly, where A.J. had wedged herself to pick out one of his hooves, she glanced at Devlin. Her body was still raging like an engine on overdrive and she felt like she’d been marked indelibly by their kiss. It was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before, as profound as it was frightening.

Even though his words afterward stung, she had to agree that keeping some distance between them was the right thing to do. If they did get involved, it wasn’t going to be casual. That kiss had been too electric and she already felt an emotional connection with him because of their conversation in the morning.

She came here to ride and to win, she reminded herself. Not to get entangled in an affair that could get her seriously hurt.

A.J. moved over to the stallion’s other foreleg. He protested when she asked him to lift it and she had to lean into him to get it off the ground. Sabbath, she was learning, had very sensitive feet. He flinched as she dug the pick in to free the impacted dirt but she ignored him as she thought more about Devlin’s kiss.

That kiss.

She could still feel his lips against hers and she wondered whether he was as amazed by what flared between them. For her, it was something uniquely powerful. Did he feel the same way? Or was he just a passionate man?

Come on, A.J., she told herself. You smell like a horse, you’re wearing the same jeans you had on yesterday and the only makeup on your face is moisturizer. Not exactly the trappings of seduction men respond to. Or do you think all those posters of babes in bikinis are there for the bathing suits?

She looked over at him again.

Devlin was leaning against the doorway, the sunlight tripping across the strong lines of his face and falling down over his arms and onto his hands as he worked. She wondered what they would feel like traveling over her skin.

“What are you staring at?” he asked, without looking up.

“Nothing.” She flushed, looking away.

Sabbath yanked his leg away and she let him go. As she stood up, she caught sight of her car, which was now empty except for her luggage. Seeing the duffels, she remembered that she still needed to find a place to stay. And, with a flush, she realized Devlin’s couch was now far more than simply a cheap solution to her housing problem.





4


WHEN SABBATH was tacked up, A.J. stood back and looked at him with satisfaction. She was the one who had fed him, groomed him and mucked out his stall. Her fingers had carefully fit the bridle and bit to his head. Her saddle was on his back and soon he would be carrying her weight. He was her horse. Hers alone.