Harrington got a hold of himself. He cleared his throat and said, “Demi is recovering well and the babies are healthy if a little small.”
I raised a brow. “Babies?”
He smiled then. Well, really it was more of a smirk. Just the barest hint of lifting on one side of his mouth. “Twins.”
“Congratulations. To her and your family.”
Again, he paused, as though he was surprised. “Uh, thanks. I’ll pass that along.”
Pleasantries out of the way, and reassured mother and babies were doing fine, I was ready to focus on other things. Namely the reason why I was here. This kid and I had to have a talk and set expectations. But before I could say anything, he started walking, leading the horse to the far end of the arena, toward the gate.
“I’m gonna turn this boy out and then I’ll get Ramona. Wait here.”
I almost followed him, just to be contrary. At the last second I thought better of it. Harrington already had some sort of opinion about me and I didn’t want to make it worse. Or whatever. We were going to have it out, him and I, and if I got his back up too early, he wouldn’t listen.
So I waited.
After five minutes, I started to get annoyed but tried to tamp it down. I didn’t know how long “turning out” took. And I knew Ramona was at the far end of the barn, several stalls between her and the rest of the horses. Russ had explained, when we put her away yesterday, that even though she came from a reputable place and all her tests were negative, they wanted to make sure she didn’t pick up anything on the road. Plus, she would probably settle into a new place better when she could hear otherhorses but not have strangers up in her business. Or something like that.
At the ten-minute mark, I was definitely getting pissed off. Was he keeping me waiting on purpose? I wouldn’t put it past him. He definitely didn’t have a high opinion of me for some reason, and he might be testing me. If that was the case, I’d add that to the list too. I would not be trifled with.
I stewed as the seconds ticked by, glancing at my watch every minute or so. Finally, at twenty minutes, I heard the clop of hooves on concrete. I looked up and saw Harrington leading my horse past the last stall and to the gate which he’d left open. He took off her halter, gave her a pat, and closed the gate behind her.
Some of my ire left just looking at her. She was sleek and shiny, even in the fluorescent overhead lights. Utter perfection. Almost an exact replica of the horse from my youth. I couldn’t tear my gaze away as she sniffed a pile of poop and then moseyed forward. She found a spot she liked, bent her front legs, and went down in the sand, doing that half roll thing again.
“She can’t roll all the way over?” I asked, voice low so as not to spook her. I glanced at Harrington, who’d wandered up next to me, but then returned my attention to Ramona.
“Maybe not. She doesn’t have to, if that’s what you’re worried about. As long as she…does that.” Harrington pointed as Ramona stood and shook the sand off her. He made a noise I couldn’t interpret, then added, “You don’t know much about horses, do you?”
I heard the derision in his tone. Okay, maybe derision was a bit harsh. But he was definitely annoyed about that fact.
I turned to face him fully and leveled him with a look. “No. I don’t. That’s why I hired you.”
“Thank fuck,” he muttered, so quietly I almost didn’t hear him. But I did. And it pissed me off.
“Listen, kid. I don’t—”
“I’m not a kid.” His face was flushed, but judging by the look in his eye, it was due to anger. I shouldn’t find that appealing. “And I have a name.”
“Mr. Harrington, I don’t appreciate being judged by my lack of knowledge. I was smart enough to hire the top trainer for my horse, wasn’t I?”
“That you did,Mr. Cahill.”
Oh, he was angry. But then again, so was I. Seriously, this kid needed to be taken down a peg or two. And I was just the man to do it. I opened my mouth, but then shut it and took a deep breath. I could have just gone off on him, but that wouldn’t get us anywhere. We needed todiscuss, and get our boundaries settled.
“Look, we need to—”
I was interrupted again by a high, breathless, female voice calling, “Hawk! Brubby, I need more photos for social media. The last ones…,” she trailed off as she turned the corner and spotted me. She’d been running, but she came to an abrupt stop and her eyes went wide. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can come back.”
“Don’t mind me,” I said, holding up my hands. What I had to say could wait a few minutes, and I liked her energy. I wasn’t the type to buy into the woo woo nonsense about auras and shit, but I couldn’t deny that I read people quickly and got a sense of them. Vibes, someone had once called it. Whatever it was, it had served me well throughout my life.
“Mr. Cahill, this is my sister, Fern. Fern, Carter Cahill.”
Something passed over her face, but she fixed it quickly into a neutral smile and held out a hand as she came closer. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Cahill.”
“Carter.” I shook her hand. “The pleasure’s all mine.”
Fern turned her attention to her brother. “Let me know when you’re free, okay? And don’t try to get out of it. Because social media is blowing up and you need to be a part of it.”
