Leaping Hearts(82)

“Oh, no…”

“The stables were closed down by the state two years ago. We’ve sold a lot of horses that had been trained there over the years and they’ve all had behavioral problems of one sort or another. After some kind treatment, most of them come round, though they’re never completely the same again. The abuse stays with them.”

“And no wonder,” A.J. said, putting a hand on the stallion’s neck. He turned his head to her, giving her an affectionate nudge.

It all made such awful sense. The way he got so aggressive with handlers and in the show ring, his finicky behavior about his feet that became violent if he was pressed, his suspicion of people he didn’t know. His fear of water. She’d heard of horses who were treated badly, knew some stories of abuse, but usually owners and stables took good care of their stock, if for no other reason than the vast sums of money that got pumped into show horses. Unfortunately, there were tragic exceptions.

“I think I remember hearin’ about that place,” Chester spoke up. “The guy who ran it was a real sick bast—er, man. He used to have his grooms turn hoses on the horses. Said it was a way of exhaustin’ the animals out a’ misbehavin’. If the grooms didn’t do it, they’d get fired. An’ that was early on. By the time they got closed down, the man’d gone mad. Starvin’ an’ floggin’ the stock. It was a mess.”

“I’m sorry I don’t have better news,” Margaret said.

“Me, too,” A.J. said sadly.

It was incomprehensible to her how anyone could hurt something as magnificent as the stallion who was nibbling at the edge of her jacket collar. His breath was warm on her face and his butter-soft muzzle was ever so gently brushing up against her neck. Her heart bled for the cruelty he’d suffered and for the other animals that had been brutalized. The fact the stable had been closed down would never make up for what had happened to any of them.

“Ah, lass,” Margaret said, slipping an arm around A.J.’s shoulders. “Your heart’s in the right place. This stallion was lucky to find you and you him. It’s a fine pairin’.”

Chester nodded. “Very fine.”

“I need to go talk to Devlin,” A.J. said. “Will you excuse me?”

Margaret smiled. “Of course.”

“I’ll groom him real good,” Chester said before the question was posed. “Go on, now.”

Margaret and Chester watched the young woman leave.

“That’s a fine girl,” Margaret said.

“Yup. An’ you should see her on that horse. She’s brought ’im around like ya wouldn’t believe it.”

“Amazing what a little love will do.”

They were silent for a little.

“Say,” Chester said, looking down at his feet. “You like to play bingo?”

*

“Devlin?” A.J. called out as she came in the door.

“I’m in here.”

She followed the sound of his voice to the kitchen. He was eating a sandwich and offered to make her one. She shook her head.

“Margaret Mead just stopped by,” she said.

The distress in her voice made Devlin’s eyes sharpen.

“What did she say?”

As A.J. related the news, his face grew grim.

He let out a curse after she finished speaking.

“I knew some riders at that place. The stable had a high turnover rate and for good reason. There were rumors but a lot of people assumed it was just talk from grooms who’d gotten the pink slip or riders who didn’t agree with the management. Took the state too damn long to shut them down.”

Devlin reached his hand across the table to her and she took it, holding on tight. They talked for a while about the stallion’s misfortune.

“But he’s getting better with the water,” A.J. said, getting to her feet. “I think it’s because he really trusts me. I’m going back out with him now and try to—”

“I think you better take the afternoon off.”

“Why?”

Frustration crossed his face. “You’re upset. You’re tired.”

“Devlin—”

“You need a break.”

“No, I don’t. The Qualifier is only three weeks away.” She reached her good hand back and began unraveling the braid in her hair. When she was finished, she braided it up again, securing it in a tie.

“You’re working too hard.”

“I’m f—”

Devlin exploded, crashing his fist onto the table. “If I hear you say you’re fine one more time, I’m going to put my head through the wall!”

A.J. jerked back, surprised at the depth of his emotion. His eyes glittered with anger as he looked at her.

“You’re not eating. You look like hell. You spend all night tossing and turning.” She opened her mouth. “And don’t deny it. I’m in that bed with you.”

He held up his hand before she could defend herself.

“A.J., you’re not going to make it if you don’t relax a little. You’re working yourself too hard and if this continues, you’re going to be no good to anyone the day of the Qualifier. You have to trust me on this.”

She looked away from him, crossing her arms over her chest.