by Ward, J. R.
Today he left it behind as he and Chester went down to the stable.
When the two men came through the sliding double doors, Sabbath was on the crossties and A.J. was grooming him.
“I’ll be groomin’ for ya now,” Chester said, stepping forward.
She smiled. “Thanks, but I’d like to do some of it. Gives this lunkhead and me a chance to get to know each other. I’d welcome some help, though. There’s plenty of surface area for two.”
“I’ll say.” The man picked up a currycomb and approached the stallion, who flattened his ears back.
“Oh, get over yourself, ya big baby,” Chester said sharply.
Shocked, Sabbath pricked his ears forward and seemed hurt at being dismissed so easily. He settled down with a sheepish look as the groom went to work.
Shaking off a feeling of nostalgia, Devlin retrieved his clipboard and reviewed his notes from the day before. Instead of throwing in a new complement of jumps, he decided to keep working the stallion over the course he’d laid out yesterday. He was hoping the continuity would help focus the horse.
After Sabbath was saddled, Chester went out to check the fences.
“Want me to bring the hose out there an’ get busy fillin’ the pool?” he asked Devlin.
“Not today, Ches, thanks. Think we’ll stick with what we did yesterday.”
Heaven knows the day before washed up in a tangled mess, Devlin thought. Why add more water to the equation?
Watching the groom amble out to the ring, he chewed on his pencil, finding familiar grooves. He was wondering how the stallion would handle water jumps. It wasn’t uncommon for high-strung horses to have difficulty with them. The shimmering surface looked threatening and some jumpers had problems with visual stimuli. He’d seen fierce creatures like Sabbath throw their riders just to avoid mud puddles. The key was knowing whether your horse was a “spook” or not. It was important information to have but, as he contemplated the day’s work, he decided they had enough to worry about. The water jump would have to wait.
With a final review of her equipment, A.J. led the stallion into the ring. The day was bright and sunny and the clear fall sky stretching overhead was a vast blanket of blue. As she and Sabbath approached Chester, who was waiting to shut the gate, A.J. thought ahead and asked the man to give her a leg up. Devlin wasn’t an option. The memory of his body stretched over hers was still vivid and she didn’t want him too close. She got light-headed just from recollections of the night before and had no intention of getting more distracted.
Once up in the saddle, she threw a smile at Chester while securing the chin strap on her helmet. Coaching Sabbath into a jog at the rail, she felt him bounce under her, his feet light over the earth, his ears flicking front and back. Devlin took up his position in the center of the ring and began calling out gaits. Surprisingly, the flatwork went well and she tried not to get her hopes up though it was hard not to get excited. Even as she urged herself to keep her enthusiasm in check, she was thrilled to get to know the stallion’s rhythms, to recognize how he felt as he changed gaits and directions. She decided that, when he wasn’t acting up, he was responsive and a damn good ride.
Soon enough, Devlin called them over and reviewed the course again.
“You ready to do this?” he prompted, noting how she was stretching out her arms. It seemed as if she was uncomfortable.
“Of course we are.”
“Your arms look sore.”
“They’re fine.”
He approached the stallion and put a hand on her leg. He imagined he could feel the warmth of her skin even through the chaps, and when she jerked her leg away, his eyes turned grim.
“A.J., talk to me. Don’t be tough. Are you strong enough to do this?”
“Absolutely. I don’t stop just because it hurts.”
“Perseverance is a good quality. So is knowing when you need a break.”
He watched as she looked around at the jumps, flexed her arms and settled back into the saddle. Sabbath stamped a hoof and tossed his head, impatient.
She said, “We don’t have time—”
“There’s always time. Trust me on this. It’s better to be clear about any weakness you or your mount might have than pretend you don’t have one.”
“I’m fine. Why won’t you believe me?”
A.J. wheeled the stallion around and he watched her go, taken by her command of the horse. And herself. She would no sooner give in to physical exhaustion than back away from a challenge. She was, he realized, so very much like himself.
Which meant he was going to have to watch her very carefully. When a competitor’s hunger was as strong as hers, good judgment could easily be a casualty. It was a lesson he’d learned the hard way. He found himself hoping he could spare her the pain of his own insight into what someone loses when they focus on a goal to the exclusion of everything else.
At ringside, A.J. stared down the course, jaw set in preparation for the battle ahead. She was so sore from the day before that brushing her teeth in the morning had been a challenge. The warm-up hadn’t been too bad but she knew what was coming. Could she hold out long enough?
The discomfort in her body wasn’t the only thing she found upsetting. Devlin’s concern for her was both touching and frustrating. Didn’t he understand the pressure they were all under? They were going to need every day they had to train the stallion. Taking time off just because of some muscle soreness wasn’t going to get them where they needed to go.
With resolve, she tightened her grip on the reins and gave the stallion some leg. He surged forward, approaching the first fence faster than she would have liked. The jump went startlingly well. Some of the smoothness she associated with his flatwork showed up unexpectedly, but then, as if he remembered he had to be a badass, he fought her at the turn, throwing his head up and sidestepping. She had to pitch her weight in the opposite direction in hopes of controlling him.
A.J. succeeded in muscling him into the next jump, a low-slung wall that he cleared as if it were big as a barn. He fought her through another turn and, when he was confronted by the oxer combination, he took the bit and plowed through the jumps like a wrecking ball.
“Halt,” Devlin called out. Normally, he would never have interrupted a rider’s concentration in the middle of a course but he didn’t want them going any farther. The horse was out of control and they’d only be letting him get entrenched in bad behavior if the round continued.
A.J. curbed the stallion with a mighty pull while Devlin approached on foot. She was panting as if she’d run a mile.
“You want to rest?” he asked.
“No.”
He hesitated. “All right, let me know when you do.”
She nodded but he knew the idea had been tossed out.
Devlin said, “I think we need to school him over some singles. The course is too much right now. He’s just going to keep fighting you, first because he’s testing you and then because he’s used to doing it.”
Devlin pointed to the left.
“Let’s start with that first upright. Just run him over it once and bring him to a halt. We’re going to get this animal so bored, he’ll be too numb to fight.”
The rest of the training session was spent leaping over the jump and coming to a full stop until A.J. thought she was going to go mad. It worked, though. By the end of the morning, the stallion was clearing the one fence and coming to a halt without turning it into a battle.
“I think that’s enough for today,” Devlin called out.
A.J. didn’t bother to hide her relief. She was always willing to work hard but the two extremes of constant vigilance and mindless tedium had begun to wear on her. The stallion seemed likewise exhausted.
“Hypnosis takes over where the battle leaves off,” Devlin said with satisfaction as they walked toward him. Both were glassy-eyed.
“Is it me or has there been some improvement?” A.J. asked.
“By the end, he seemed to be coming
around.”
“Thank God.”
Even though Devlin wanted to, he didn’t ask about how she was feeling. Besides, with the way she was looking, he knew. Her features were pinched and her eyes dragged down at the corners. Neither was a good sign.
“Let’s cool him down and have a strategy session over lunch,” he said.
“Good idea.”
While she coaxed the stallion into a slow walk at the rail, Devlin went over to Chester. “What do you think?”
“Stallion’s a natural but a pain in the neck.” The man scratched his chin. “Girl’s a gem. Rides like a lady but’s tough as old shoe leather. She’ll win ’im over in the end but it’s gonna take the starch outta both of ’em.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Sabbath and A.J. walked by slowly, looking like a couple of worn-out boxers.
“Shootin’ for the Qualifier, are ya?”
Devlin nodded.
“It’s two months away.”
“Don’t I know it.”
“Ya gonna test ’em out in competition aforehand?”
“We’ll have to. There’s an event coming up in two weeks. Some good competitors will be in the ring but it won’t be covered heavily by the press because the purse is small. We can let them cut their teeth in relative peace. I just hope there’s enough time to get some kinks worked out. I don’t want her getting discouraged by a bad showing early on.”
“They’re gonna make it,” Chester pronounced.
Devlin cracked a grin. “I love it when you agree with me.”
“Two weeks!” A.J.’s turkey sandwich hit the plate and bounced apart. “Are you out of your mind?”
“We need to get the two of you into competition as soon as we can.” Devlin’s eyes were steady across the table.
“I agree, but in case you haven’t noticed, that horse and I can barely make it over one upright without turning it into armed combat. How are we going to get up to speed over a whole course in two weeks? Much less go into a competition?”
“I’m not saying you two will be polished or that I expect you to win.”
“That’s a relief. Because I’d hate to let you down when he ditches me and tries to herd the crowd again.”
“Not much chance a’ that,” Chester piped up as he came into the kitchen. He went straight to the luncheon meats on the counter. “The animal likes you too much. And y’re too good a rider to let ’im get away with it, anyway.”
A.J. shot the man a grateful smile and Devlin felt like he’d been pricked by a needle. There was something about seeing her look at Chester with such affection that irked him.
He said, “We’re going to use the next two weeks to get you as buffed up as we can.”
A.J. groaned and Devlin got lost looking at her. Sitting with her back to the sun, there was a halo around her that made her hair glow with the deep red of coal embers. Its warmth gave her flawless skin the luminescence of pearls and, when she flashed her eyes back to him, Devlin caught his breath.
“Is there anything we can do to fast-track the training? Assuming you don’t have a time machine hidden somewhere around here?”
There was a long pause as she waited for Devlin to answer, and Chester smiled. While putting together his sandwich, he’d been looking at them and chuckling to himself. He’d been with Devlin McCloud a lot of years and there wasn’t much about the man he didn’t know. Working in intense situations brought out the good and bad in people and Chester had seen his friend in a lot of different moods. Nothing compared to the effect the woman had on him. The guy looked like someone had come up the back side of his head with a broad board.
Ever since the accident, Chester had watched as Devlin retreated into himself and closed off from everything. Now, though, that angel with the dark red hair had come down and there was light in his friend’s eyes again. Of course, Devlin was too obstinate to realize his salvation had arrived and he’d fight the redemption tooth and nail all the way. But that was his nature. After all, you can’t be surprised when a hardwood tree sprouts up from a chestnut.
Chester pitched a pickle onto his plate and poured himself an iced tea before taking the seat next to A.J. She was still waiting for a response and he figured he’d better answer, because the man on the other side of the table was too addled to do it. Although it wasn’t the first time he’d rescued his friend in some way, having a woman put Devlin McCloud out of his wits was a new one.
“Ya can’t rush the trainin’,” Chester said to her. “But ya don’t need to.”
A.J. looked at him, doubts hovering in her eyes.
“Ya can do this. Ya just need to work with ’im. That stallion’ll come around,” he affirmed before wrapping his jaws around the sandwich and chewing.
“But all we did today was—”
“Y’ve got to let go a’ the disbelief in your head.”
“I can’t.”
“Then y’re focusing on the wrong place. The strength’s in your heart, not your head.”
“Right now, all I can see is failure.” A.J. pushed her plate away.
“Them thoughts are only as strong as ya let them be.”
Devlin came out of the spell and saw A.J. was looking at Chester as if the man were the source of all knowledge.
“You done, Swami,” he said dryly, “or do you want to hop up on the table and do a few yoga postures?”
“Just sayin’ what I think. I have faith in her.”
Devlin let out a snort as A.J. smiled at his friend. Feeling like someone left out of the loop, he got to his feet. “I hate to miss more of the glowing admiration between you two but I’m going to get some work done.”
Chester rolled his eyes with a good-natured grin. “I guess this table’s not big enough for both of us, Pilgrim.”
He got a grunt in return.
Devlin knew he was behaving like a five-year-old but he couldn’t pretend any differently. Putting his dishes in the sink, he left the house, only to realize he didn’t have a clue what he was going to do with himself. His study was always ripe for attention but there was no way he was going to march past the two of them again. Not after he’d left in such a huff.
Hoping to trip over some kind of purpose, he headed down to the barn, where he found Sabbath napping. One black hoof was resting on its tip and the horse’s ears were lolling lazily. They pricked up as Devlin leaned on the front of the stall.
The stallion, for once not taking a combative stance, ambled over. His eyes flicked over the discontented man at his door and he seemed to offer his condolences.
“I look at that woman and all my neurons start firing at once,” Devlin said. “My head shuts down and that’s not the worst of it.”
But he wasn’t about to describe the effect she had on his body. Even if the stallion was looking particularly supportive. The memory of A.J. in his arms was potent enough without adding to it the power of words.
“What the hell am I going to do?”
If the stallion had an answer, he wasn’t sharing, and Devlin pulled away from the stall with a frustrated groan.
“To top it off, she’s got me turning to a horse for advice.”
6
THE TWO weeks before her first competition on Sabbath passed in a blur of early mornings, hard labor and relentless training. As A.J. brushed her teeth the night before the event, she felt ambivalent. They’d made some progress with the stallion but it didn’t seem like enough. Although she and Sabbath had graduated from the crushing repetition of doing single fences to tackling courses, the battle of wills continued in the ring.
She sighed and took out her hairbrush.
At least everything wasn’t acrimonious between them. Miraculously, the disobedient jumper had turned out to be a real charmer when he wasn’t going over fences. Every time A.J. came into the stable, his head popped out of the stall and he nickered a greeting. He was always ready for a rub behind the ears from her and he repaid the effort with a muzzle nudged under her arm or a sn
uffle across her shoulders.
Gradually, the stallion had learned to tolerate Chester and Devlin but he was A.J.’s horse. Or, more accurately, he’d decided she was his person. This meant, when it came to his many idiosyncrasies, A.J. had to be the one on deck or things went bad fast. The stallion was especially finicky about his feet and only A.J. was allowed to pick out his hooves. Chester had tried once and Sabbath revolted so violently, he yanked one of the crossties out of the wall. And when it came to getting shod, if A.J. wasn’t standing by his head, the blacksmith refused to get within two yards of the stallion with a horseshoe. No one blamed the man. Left to his own devices, Sabbath had tried to make lunch out of the man’s overalls, starting with the back pockets.
When it came to real feed, the kind he was supposed to nibble on, the stallion had a funny quirk. He hated being alone when he ate. If A.J. wasn’t around, the oats or hay went untouched. Only when she was leaning against the stall door, looking over him and talking quietly, would Sabbath dip his muzzle down and start chewing.
Between his phobias, bizarre habits and the way he behaved in the ring, it was easy to see why Sabbath had been passed from owner to owner. If it weren’t for his obvious and overwhelming affection for her, A.J. thought they all would have lost patience with him by the end of the first week.
She finished untangling her hair and put the brush back in her toiletries bag. Then she slipped on a pair of thick socks to keep her toes warm and picked up her small bag. She was on the way downstairs, running through the checklist of things to do in the morning before they left for the show, when she heard cursing. Curious, she followed the expletives into Devlin’s study. He was crouching in the corner of the room, frustrated.
He looked up as he heard her approach. Their eyes met in the dim light, and the flash of attraction, which always flared whenever they were together, made her feel warm inside.
