Leaping Hearts(12)
Author: J.R. Ward

Her heart ached for him.

“You can put him in here,” Devlin said, sliding open the gate to one of the first stalls.

She led the stallion inside and removed his halter, noting that there was fresh dirt on the floor but no water or feed.

“I’ve got some hay in the trailer,” she said, going out into the aisle, “and if you show me where the hose is—”

“I have an automatic watering system,” he replied, shutting the bottom half of the door. “But you’re going to want to bring in some feed.”

She headed outside.

When A.J. returned, she saw Devlin and Sabbath measuring up each other like two boxers in a ring. The stallion’s head was out of the stall and he was fiercely meeting the eyes of the man who stood, still as a statue, inches away. She slowed down, waiting to see what was going to happen.

Sabbath snorted against the jacket Devlin was wearing and stomped a hoof. Concerned he was going to bite, A.J. rushed forward, only to be halted by the sound of Devlin’s voice.

“Stay back,” he said. “This is between him and me.”

Feeling at a loss, she did as she was told.

The stallion breathed in a barrelful of air and threw it at Devlin. The man remained standing, his cane cocked at an angle as he braced himself against the force that hit him. Like his body, his eyes were steady, never wavering, even as Sabbath kicked the side of the stall and threw back his head, letting out a roar.

A.J. dropped the hay and ran ahead, only to stop in surprise. After the fuss was over, the stallion’s ears relaxed and he pulled back into the stall on his own.

“Round one is a tie,” Devlin said, a smile playing behind the straight lines of his lips. “And that’s one hell of a horse.”

A.J. found herself returning his grin as she tossed hay into the stall. Satisfied Sabbath was comfortable, she shut the top door and they walked back out into the night air.

“Thank you,” she said, pausing in front of the trailer.

He shrugged. “He’ll be comfortable for the night.”

“I appreciate it.”

“When will you be back tomorrow morning to pick him up?”

“Actually, do you mind if the rig takes up some of your driveway space tonight?”

“Of course not. But how are you going to get home?”

“I’m not going home.”

With that, A.J. wrenched open the driver’s-side door and crawled in, so tired she hurt.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m exhausted and, as you and just about everyone I’ve run into today has pointed out, not thinking all that clearly. If you don’t mind, I’m just going to spend the night here.”

“You can’t be serious.”

She shut the door and rolled onto her side, tucking an arm under her head. Abruptly, she found herself on the verge of tears.

A sharp rap sounded against the window.

A.J. put her other arm over her ear, trying to block out the noise. The last thing she wanted was to cry in front of him.

The butt of the cane continued knocking.

Bolting upright, she cracked open the window. “What?”

“You can’t sleep out here.”

“As long as you keep making noise, you’re right about that.”

“You’re not sleeping out here.”

“Why? You can’t have big plans for this patch of dirt tonight.”

“It’s cold and I’m not in the habit of letting people freeze solid on my front lawn.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“Come inside.”

His voice was gentle, as if he knew she’d reached the end of her rope. Unfortunately, his concern just made her more upset.

“I’ll do just as well out here.” The words were choked and she fumbled with the window. Once it was up again, she lay down and put her arm back over her ear.

The rapping resumed.

“I’m ignoring you,” A.J. called out.

“And I’m not stopping until you come inside.”

“Your arm will give out before I do.”

“Don’t be so sure about that,” she heard him say.

It turned out Devlin was right.

A few minutes later, A.J. emerged from the cab. Tired and frustrated, she didn’t trust herself to say anything so she crossed her arms over her chest and stuck out her chin. Devlin led the way to the farmhouse.

3

THE CHILLY night air and a desire not to appear weak in front of him made her feel more in control by the time they got to his front door. Following him inside, A.J. found herself in a foyer with a staircase ahead and a kitchen beyond. To the left, a modest living room was furnished sparsely but glowed with the warmth of cherry paneling and some embers that were dying in an old stone fireplace. On the opposite side of the entrance hall was a dining room with an exquisite antique table in the center and a set of carved chairs pressed in tight around its flanks.

Throughout the rooms, oriental rugs covered wide oak planks, and the ceilings, lofty and creamy white, provided fair skies. Everywhere she turned, there were banks of windows stretching from the floor to above her head and she knew light would flood into the rooms during the day. With spectacular views and antique details, it was a gorgeous house but there was something sterile about it. She noticed that there were no family pictures, no snapshots of friends, no random trinkets from vacations. And where were all of his trophies and medals?

“You’ll have to sleep on the couch,” Devlin said, indicating the navy blue slipcovered sofa. “I use the other bedrooms as an office and…for storage.”

She looked up at the hesitation but his face gave away nothing as he put his cane in an umbrella stand and hung up his coat. She followed his lead, taking off her barn jacket and putting it on a peg on the wall, next to his. Side by side, their coats hung tightly together, the sleeves mingling. She found the sight appealing and, as she got her bearings, she felt an air of tantalizing pleasure just being in his home.

Devlin disappeared down the hall and returned with a freshly laundered men’s shirt, still warm from the dryer. “I’ll be back with some pillows and blankets.”

Holding his shirt in her hands, she watched him tackle the stairs with the caution of someone twice his age. Each time he put up the foot of his injured leg, she couldn’t keep herself from wincing. Even though his face remained impassive, she could tell the strain he was under. It was in the flush that covered his face and in the ironfisted grip he had on the railing.

On impulse, A.J. put down the shirt and went after him. At the top of the stairs, she saw several doors and quickly put her head inside one. With only the dim light of the hall for illumination, it was too dark to see anything but odd shapes in the room.