Leaping Hearts(3)

“Straight to hell if I get to pick where to send him.”

After another ten minutes of people trying to get control of the horse and failing, A.J. tugged her baseball cap down tight and stepped into the ring. She caught the stallion’s eye immediately. Pegging her with a dark look, he rushed at her, only to come to a screeching halt a few yards away when she refused to move. Dirt kicked up around him in a cloud and he pawed the ground in warning, throwing his head up and down.

Instead of showing fear, A.J. put her hands into the pockets of her jeans. A silence fell over the crowd.

She could see the horse mulling over his options. Someone standing their ground in front of him was something new and he seemed confused.

“All right, you’ve had your fun,” A.J. said in a low voice. “Now it’s time to behave yourself.”

As if he understood her, he shook his magnificent head and whinnied a loud denial. He was breathing heavily, his nostrils flaring widely, but she knew it was more for drama than from exertion. Even after bolting around the ring like a madman running from sanity, he hadn’t broken a sweat across his gleaming black coat.

While they squared off, A.J. was looking at him with a calm disregard, as if he were a temperamental two-year-old. Inside, however, her instincts were sharp. She tracked every movement he made, noting the subtle twitching in the muscle fibers of his deep barrel chest and the beat of his heart in the veins just under his slick coat. She was searching for any advance warning that he was going to lunge at her, any hint as to what his next move might be.

After all, she might be daring but she wasn’t stupid. It didn’t take her years of experience with horses to know she had to be extremely careful when staring down an animal like Sabbath. A half ton of stallion backed by the personality of a pro wrestler didn’t make for safety. It was a dangerous situation. And a thrilling one.

“You know, you may have missed your calling.” She took a step forward, continuing to talk. “You’d make an excellent steamroller.”

Sabbath snorted and reared up on his haunches for show.

“I’ll make a deal with you,” she said, stopping when she was only a couple of feet from him. “You calm down and come with me and I’ll help you put all that energy to more constructive use.”

She smiled at her own words, thinking it was probably like asking a rugby player to turn in his cleats for a pair of tap shoes.

While the horse seemed to be considering her proposal, A.J. pictured herself saddling him up and mounting him for the first time.

“It’s going to be a long way to the ground if you throw me,” she said softly. “Fortunately, I tend to bounce.”

Sabbath let out another ferocious roar. Her smile deepened.

“So do I take that as a yes? Are you ready to try a little tap dancing?”

Suspiciously, the horse moved his head forward, putting his black muzzle up to her face. He took in a huge lungful of air, drawing her scent through his nose. Then he blew it back at her, sending her baseball cap flying.

A.J. shook her head. “If you want to impress me, you’re going to have to do more than play bowling ball to a crowd of people and knock off my hat.”

Sabbath reared again, his mane streaking through the air, hooves pawing the space between them. Then, looking bored, he abruptly dropped his neck, lowering his head.

After a moment, A.J. cautiously reached forward and took his lead in her slender hand. When the stallion tolerated it with only a flick of his ears, she moved to the side and went forward. Together, they started to walk out of the arena.

One of the stable hands approached tentatively. Without words, he pointed out where the stallion had been housed and then scurried away. Left to handle the horse alone, A.J. led the way into the stable area and approached the stall Sabbath had been in.

“You don’t know this yet,” she whispered, leading him inside, “but you and I are going to make a great team.”

Still watching him closely, she took off his halter and then shut the half door, leaning on it.

As he bent down and nipped at some hay in the corner, A.J. sighed. “We’re just going to have to teach you some manners first.”

From the fringes of the crowd, Devlin McCloud watched the scene unravel with cynical eyes. He’d known exactly when the horse was going to bolt. The stallion’s massive haunches had tensed hard before the animal sprang forward and he picked the perfect time to make his move. At that exact moment, the groom holding the lead had let his attention lapse, looking in the opposite direction and laughing at someone behind him. Like a flash, the horse took off and, courtesy of his distraction, the young hand had been dragged through the dirt and almost trampled. By the time the kid let go of the lead, he looked like a breaded cutlet.

All around, people started scrambling to get out of the way, but Devlin, with his bad leg, wasn’t able to move as fast as the rest of the crowd. Relying on his cane, he made his way to the edge of the ring in the awkward gait he despised, all the while keeping his eye on the horse.

He didn’t stare just because he wanted to avoid getting run over. He was captivated. The stallion moved with a grace and force Devlin hadn’t seen in a long time. It reminded him of—

He blocked the thought of Mercy. It had been almost a year since the accident, nearly a year since he’d had to put her down, but the pain was still unbearable. Once more, he wondered how long it was going to take to get over his grief, and feared the ache in his chest, like the one in his leg, was never going to go away.