Leaping Hearts(77)

Or not paying, as the case may be.

As she confronted a stiff bill with a sagging wallet, she was determined to carry her own weight and not ask Devlin to suck up her expenses. He wasn’t earning any income now that he wasn’t competing and she had no idea what his net worth was. Anyway, even if he had deep pockets, he didn’t owe her a living. She would have to find a way to pay her own way.

And A.J. was determined not to throw herself on her father’s financial mercy. She wasn’t going to compromise her newfound independence from him simply because of money.

With a flash of insight, she realized how easy she’d had it while under her father’s wing. Even though she’d never been paid anything for her work at the stables, there had always been plenty of money. Her father was generous with cash and had covered all her expenses, in school and out. All her clothes, her tack, the horses she rode, the cars she drove, the meals she ate and the vacations she went on…Garrett took care of it all. She had no credit cards in her own name, had never paid a phone bill, couldn’t remember the last time she’d written out a check to some kind of vendor.

Sure sounded like the life of a princess, she thought, struck by what a bizarre existence she’d had. Between Peter running the business of Sutherland Stables, and her father taking care of her so well, she’d become completely divorced from her own finances. Why hadn’t she noticed before now?

Because she’d never actually paid for anything until now, A.J. thought, her fingers seeking out the solitaire and rolling it around.

So how was she going to cover her debt?

Maybe she could just sell something.

The trouble was, she didn’t really own anything. Which she guessed made sense considering she’d never really bought anything with her own money. Well, except for wildly unpredictable Thoroughbred stallions with water phobias and the predilection for torturing blacksmiths.

Why couldn’t she have started out with something a little less ambitious? Like a goldfish?

She mentally thumbed through the things she used on a daily basis. The convertible was in Sutherland Stables’ name for the write-off; her furniture back home was more the mansion’s than hers; her clothes had been bought on credit that her father covered. Besides, she didn’t imagine there was a huge market for used barn boots.

What was she going to do?

Her fingers stilled, the solution painfully clear.

God, growing up hurts, she thought, dropping her hand to her lap.

Chester showed up for breakfast the next morning with a saucy grin. Devlin and A.J. were just sitting down when the man walked in.

“Good mornin’! Good to see ya set m’ place at the table. Didya miss me?”

“Welcome back,” A.J. said, smiling up at the man.

“How’re you feeling?” Devlin asked suspiciously.

“Right as rain. Fit as a fiddle. All the usual.” Chester slid into his chair and picked up his spoon. “I’m ready to get back to work. Couldn’t stand kicking around the house yesterday. Hey, listen. After the trainin’, I was thinkin’ I could retrofit those water pipes that busted. The plumber said he fixed the line but—”

“You’re doing nothing but the bare minimum today and I’m going to be watching you,” Devlin said. “If you’re not on good behavior, you’re back on the bench.”

Chester opened his mouth to argue but obviously thought better of it.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “If the two a’ you want to play nursemaid, that’s your business.”

“Glad you see the light,” Devlin said with a grin.

Down at the barn, they fell into their regular rhythm of work but it was strained under the surface. A.J. had to perform many of her tasks with one hand, which meant she was slow and dropped things. The worst for her was picking out Sabbath’s hooves. She had to use her arm to do the job, and, by the time she was finished, beads of sweat were dotting her forehead from the pain. She was forced to sit down and recover, cradling her arm in her lap while pretending to make small talk with Chester. After a while, the pain passed but it took longer than the day before.

Devlin had his own concerns. He was worried Chester would overdo it and unsure how much lifting and pulling was safe for the man to do. The groom behaved himself for the most part, but when he came down from the loft with a heavy load of hay, Devlin had to step in.

“You sure you should be carrying all that?”

“Humpin’ bales a’ hay is what they make men for.”

“It’s what they make wheelbarrows for.”

“Aww, come on. I’ve been toting this kinda load for years.”

“And maybe it’s time you eased up.” Before the man could argue, Devlin pointed a finger to the back of the barn. “You know where it is.”

Moments later, Chester showed up grumbling but pushing the wheelbarrow.

“Much better.”

“Hate this thing,” Chester grumbled. “Wheel’s bent cockeyed an’ the barrel’s too shallow.”

“So buy a new one. You’re going to spend a lot more time using the thing, so you better like it.”

Chester looked as if he was going to squabble.

“Tell you what,” A.J. offered. “I’ve got some errands to run today. We’ll hijack the truck and pick up a new one together.”