Leaping Hearts(24)

A.J. nodded and directed Sabbath to the perimeter of the ring, keeping his stride at a trot. He fought her for his head with every footfall and she began to feel like she was in a tug-of-war. The stallion was testing her strength, assessing her determination. She just hoped he’d get over it before her arms were stretched so far her knuckles dragged on the ground.

Devlin watched as she let the horse work out his initial enthusiasm at being in the ring. Her hands were firm but gentle and she sat up in the saddle with the comfort and poise of a natural. Together, the two looked good, even though it was their first time together and the horse was pulling at the bit like the reins were made of taffy. The stallion’s height and obvious strength meant he carried A.J.’s long body with ease and her calm confidence was the right match for his itchy high-stepping.

They just seemed to fit.

He thought of Mercy and, to avoid his feelings, he began calling out gait and directional changes. A.J. and the stallion spent the next hour going through a gradually escalating workout. When he was satisfied with their efforts, Devlin called them to the center of the ring.

A.J.’s smile was as blinding as the afternoon sun. “Isn’t he wonderful!”

“He has his good moments but there’s a lot of work ahead of us. That horse has his own ideas of how things should go and he’s got to learn to be more disciplined.”

“On the bright side, he hasn’t tried to ditch me for over an hour.”

“He puts up quite a fight, doesn’t he?”

She nodded.

“How’s he feel?”

“Smooth as water,” A.J. said, taking her helmet off and brushing some hair from her face. “It’s like swimming. As long as he isn’t fighting with me.”

As he looked at her, Devlin realized he loved watching her move. There was something innately fluid about her strength, something womanly and totally appealing. She might be lean but she was tough and resilient and yet still very feminine.

He smiled. “When he hits his stride, he’s quite a looker from ringside.”

And the horse wasn’t the only appealing thing to look at, he thought.

A.J. grinned down at him as she replaced the velvet helmet. “Maybe he just gets bored easily.”

“Then let’s give him something to think about.”

Devlin held up his clipboard and described a course of jumps. His sequence started with some straightforward uprights of low height and increased in difficulty. The most challenging of the group was an oxer combination. Each single oxer was made up of three upright rail fences that gradually got higher and tested height as well as distance. A combination meant that there were two or more of the same jumps separated by a single stride between them.

“I would have you try the water jump but I didn’t have time to fill it,” he said. “If Chester comes, he’ll get it set up.”

“Chester?”

“An old friend,” Devlin replied, and changed the subject.

A.J. shrugged off her curiosity and asked for some clarification on distance and strides. He answered her questions and told her what he was looking for. Each jump was a test of a particular skill, either for her or the horse, and she was impressed with his thinking.

Harebrained scheming aside, one thing was clearly in her favor, she thought, turning the horse around. Her trainer sure as hell knew what he was doing.

A.J. set Sabbath into a light canter at the rail and they approached the first fence tensely, both battling over the reins. Sabbath won and took his head, galloping over the simple upright with a huge leap and clearing it with far too much room to spare. They landed like a sack of oranges hitting the floor. Charging around the ring, the round went from bad to worse, and by the time they cleared the final oxer, A.J. felt like she’d been in a paint mixer.

When she directed the stallion over to Devlin, she felt defeated, ready for his criticism. “So much for smooth as water. I think my molars are loose. That was a travesty.”

A.J. frowned as she saw his expression. “Why on God’s green earth are you smiling?”

“He’s a temperamental giant. And he’s rough around the edges but he’s got a great stride and he’s fast as a hot rod. He could be one of the great ones.”

“Are you out of your mind?” she said, her arms feeling like noodles from fighting the stallion’s mouth. “I might as well have been on the ground doing commands in semaphore for all he listened to me.”

“We can teach him to pay attention to you.” Devlin’s hazel eyes were rapt. “What we can’t do is motivate him. This horse is thirsty to feel air under his hooves and he’s taking these fences like they’re flat as mud puddles.”

“I think it’s a case of too much air between the ears,” she muttered. “He takes his head all the time. I’m just luggage on his back.”

“That’s what training’s for.” Devlin nodded to the jumps. “Now do it again.”

It was growing dim by the time A.J. put her saddle away in the tack room and paused to watch Sabbath munch on some hay in his stall. Her arms were numb, her hands were throbbing and she felt the beginnings of a headache. It was as though she’d been on a speeding train all afternoon and, even though her feet were now on solid ground, she still thought she was moving.

So much for a strong start, she thought, arching her back and feeling nothing but aches and stiffness.