Leaping Hearts(57)

She needed his tenderness now and he was gone. She felt very cold inside, despite the bath’s warmth.

When Chester came back to the house a half hour later, A.J. was waiting on the couch downstairs. Beside her was a piece of luggage.

“I’m going to go to the doctor,” she said, looking down at her hands. The fingers on her injured arm were still numb and it felt funny to rub them against the ones that were working properly.

“Ya want a ride to an’ from?” he asked out of hope, knowing full well what her answer would be.

She shook her head. “I’m not coming back here. I’m going to take a few days off.”

“Probably wise,” he said slowly. “Ya need some time to heal.”

Wasn’t that the truth, she thought as she stood up.

A.J. bent over to pick up her bag but he got there first.

“Ya goin’ to your family’s?” Chester asked.

“I think so.” All A.J. knew was that she had to get away. The destination didn’t seem important.

Before she got into her car, she went to Sabbath’s stall. He was snoozing in the far corner but as soon as he caught her scent, he looked up and came ambling over.

“You walked him out really well?” she asked Chester, who’d followed her inside. She was running her good hand down the stallion’s nose.

“Real good.”

“Any lameness?”

“He’ll be stiff tomorrow but I’ll lunge him an’ he’ll be right as rain in a day.”

She nodded, relieved Sabbath hadn’t hurt himself, glad he was under Chester’s watchful eye. With a soft kiss on the stallion’s forehead, she left the barn.

“Ya want me to tell Devlin anythin’? He’s goin’ to feel awful about this.”

She hesitated and finally said, “Tell him I’ll be in touch. I need some time to myself.”

“All right.”

Chester put her luggage in the trunk and stepped back from the flashy red car.

“Bye,” she said.

“Come back soon.”

A.J. simply waved in response and drove away.

Out on the main road, she found it hard to drive and shift with only one arm but she didn’t take the fastest route to the doctor’s. Instead, she went along winding roads she’d learned long ago, following twists and turns she knew well. A soft rain began to fall and its delicate touch soon turned the bark on the passing oaks and maples black, making the yellows and oranges of autumn stand out like splashes of paint.

When she finally pulled into the parking lot of her doctor’s office, she was feeling more calm but no better. Even though she didn’t have an appointment, the doctor fit her in promptly. Dr. Ridley, who was by now in his sixties, had treated her family for years and always made time to squeeze in any of the Sutherlands. It was a courtesy he’d extended to her often, considering she’d been crashing into jumps since she was a teenager.

The doctor was a small, birdlike man, with a sweet, high voice and the cheeriness of a chickadee. Flitting into the examining room, he didn’t bother to sit down but hovered while he examined her arm and had X-rays taken. After eyeing the films and doing some careful prodding with his hands, he pronounced that the limb was badly sprained and had a stress fracture that would heal well enough if she behaved herself. With a flurry of activity, he wrapped her up in an Ace bandage, which started at her forearm, went over her elbow and ended in the middle of her biceps.

As she was shrugging back into her shirt, he wrote out a prescription and gave it to her with a sprightly smile.

“Ice it as soon as you get home, take this for the pain and you should be good as new in a couple of weeks.”

A.J. groaned. “Weeks?”

“You heard me.”

At her bleak expression, he said, “I’ll tell you what. You come back in a week or so and I’ll take another look at it. Maybe we can negotiate your sentence.” Dr. Ridley tried to give her a stern look but it was hard for him to pull it off because of his sunny nature. “Just remember, the more you sit still and let it heal, the faster you’ll be back in the saddle again.”

He laughed as he sang the last few words.

“Don’t look so down,” he told her. “It could have been much worse.”

“I could have fallen on my head?”

“I could have sung you something I knew more words to.”

She smiled a little.

“That’s better. You’re too old for lollipops but at least I can have you leave with some cheer on your face.”

The modest improvement in her mood lasted as far as the parking lot. She didn’t want to go to the mansion but, in the gathering dusk, she didn’t have the energy to get creative with her options. Flipping on her headlights, she drove to her father’s in a listless daze. As she pulled around the circle drive and saw the house in all its glory, she thought the glowing light pouring out of so many leaded windows was a false prophet of serenity. Between the estrangement with her father, Regina’s rigid formality and Peter’s contentiousness, the place wasn’t a refuge for her no matter how bucolic it looked from the outside.

She drove around back and pulled the convertible into its garage slip. Shouldering her bag on her good side, she entered the house through the rear entrance, which led into the industrial-sized kitchen. Dinner was in the process of being realized from its base ingredients and the cook, a European with no patience for interruptions, shot her a look of condemnation.