The creaking of the hinges as the driver lowers the side door is loud as I focus on the job in front of me. Dust and the smell of horses and manure hit my nose, and the snorting of impatient horses is music to my ears. I’m already feeling a lightness, this sense that my world has tilted a tiny bit back onto its axis now that this little piece of home is so close to me.
I watch as the driver opens the first gate and leads Delilah down the ramp. He passes her off to Josh, the stable manager leading her out to one of the yards we’ve put aside for them. The pretty white mare snorts and prances, her ears pricked and nostrils flaring as she takes in all the new surroundings and the other horses in the nearby yards who have all put their heads up to check out the newcomers. Smiling for the first time in days, I turn back to the truck and walk up the ramp to take the next one off his hands. Hercules nickers when he sees me and stomps his feet, his excitement making me smile. I rub his silky nose and blow a breath into his nostrils in greeting. “Hey, buddy.”
He bumps his head against my chest as I attach the lead to his halter. Sliding back the latch, I open the sideways gate and walk the big bay warmblood down the ramp. He, too, has his ears pricked in interest and head high, but he calmly walks to join Delilah in the paddock. And that’s as long as the peace lasts. As soon as I let him go, the two of them rear and turn, racing off to the other end of the yard before skidding to a stop at the fence line. Both throw in a couple of happy bucks before racing back again.
Typical ‘I've been cooped up in a box for too long’ behavior. It’s a pain in the ass though, because now we have to get two more into the paddock while they're going crazy.
Shaking my head with a smile, I turn around to find Josh bringing out an ‘on his toes’ Zeus, who’s snorting and carrying on, but the experienced stable manager is able to get the warmblood into the paddock with the other two crazies without too much hassle. So that just leaves me with my favorite, and he doesn't disappoint. I can hear him whinnying his impatience as I climb the ramp one more time. The snorting and stamping telling me that Samson wants out, and he wants itnow. The driver heads to get him, but I wave him back.
“‘I’ll do it,” I tell him, ignoring his relieved expression as I enter the truck. The minute our eyes meet, he stops his racket. He still snorts, but all of the stamping and head tossing ceases as he waits, body quivering for me to remove him from his cage.
Samson, being a stallion, will be in a different yard from the others. One that has electrified fences around him. He’s a good boy, but mares in season are his weakness, like all horny males.Sounds sort of familiar. My mind goes back to both Oliver and Jaxon and the interactions I had with both of them. Those stolen moments obviously meant more to me than them. Wish I was like those mares who couldn't care less who mounted her.
Moving quickly but calmly, I hook him on the lead line and open his gate, talking quietly to him the whole time. His ears twitch back and forth to the sound of my voice, and I bring him down the ramp and out into the open, watching him closely. The minute his hooves hit solid ground, he screams his annoyance, and up on his hind legs he goes. Stepping back to avoid his front hooves, I let the lead line slide through my hands so that I avoid rope burn while still having a hold of him.
Gasps from behind tell me I’m no longer alone, but I can't look, my focus on the black Friesian in front of me.
“Get down here, you great lump,” I call out, rolling my eyes at his theatrics. Had I known there were people present, I might have been a little more on the ball. This damn horse loves to perform for an audience. I give a couple of tugs on his lead, and he drops calmly to his hooves, letting me guide him in the direction of his special yard. The raging stallion from before is gone, a docile lamb now casually trotting next to me.
I get him into the yard and turn to face our audience as he calmly walks off to graze on the green grass. The other three have settled and are doing the same thing, giving me an opportunity to study who’s here, a moment that I’m not entirely sure I want. When I glance back at the stables, Dad and my grandparents are waiting for me. Nana has a look of worry on her face, mouth downturned just enough to be noticeable, but Dad and Poppy have proud smiles.
Before I can join them, the sound of hooves clattering down the ramp draws my attention back to the truck.Shit, did one of the other horses get loose?But when my eyes find the driver, he’s leading in each hand a sight that makes me burst into tears.
Jenny and Devil Spawn are both pulling him, hurrying to get to me. Sobbing, I take the leads from his hands and throw my arms around my donkey, but a nip to my ass has me quickly dropping down into a crouch to throw my arms around that mini too.
“Mr. Boston said that they're to stay here with you until you’re ready to return home. He also said that you would be transporting the others to the movie set.”
His words surprise me; he usually has a trucking company deliver them where they need to go, but I can’t say I mind the extra time with my babies. “Oh, um, he didn't say anything about that to me.”
“Oh, that was me, Harlow, sorry.” My dad approaches us quickly, an apologetic look on his face that I’m sure is about much more than surprise arrangements for the horses. “I told Chuck we’d use our truck to take them to the set. It’s one of our movies anyway. He said you had your truck license, so it wouldn't be a problem.”
“Oh, no, that’s fine,” I tell him, shaking off my surprise. The driver nods his head and closes up before leaving in a cloud of dust, not caring what happens next now that his job is over.
“Who do we have here?” My dad's voice is curious, and as I turn around, I see him reaching out to pat DS.
“No!” I shout, but DS seems to be on her best behavior because she not only allows Dad to pat her, she nuzzles her little head against him.
“That’s Devil Spawn, and trust me, she isnotnormally this friendly,” I warn him as they continue to bond. He takes her line from me, and I let him lead her to the stables. Dad’s confidence assures me he can handle anything she throws at him, though it looks like that is going to be nothing today.Suck up.
“Let’s see if we can find you an apple or a sugar cube,” he coos to her, and she prances next to him in that way that only minis can. Fickle fucking creatures that they are.
Jenny nudges me with her head, and I grab one of her big ears, giving it a rub as Nana and Poppy approach me, cautious smiles on their faces.
“Jenny’s looking really good, Hally,” Poppy says as he gives her a pat. Nana runs her hand across her soft face as she studies me, her kind gaze feeling much heavier than it should.
“How are you doing, sweetie?” Her words are gentle, and the sympathy I see in her eyes is like a cold dash of water as all that has happened comes back to me. The horses had been a perfect distraction, but I guess I can’t avoid talking to them anymore.
Before I can say anything, Josh approaches us. “Shall I take her? I can find somewhere for her to go.”
“Are you sure? I know you weren't expecting to end up with a donkey and a mini,” I reply, worried about what he’ll say, but he just grins.
“Actually, I did know about them. Mr. Boston asked Mr. Summers if it was alright that he sent them, and of course he said yes. It’s not like we don't have the room. How much trouble can a donkey and a mini be?" With those naive words, my eyes widen just a tiny bit, and the better part of my nature pokes at me to correct his assumption.
“Ah, the donkey not much, but the mini... you should watch her like a hawk. She's crafty and clever, and quite frankly, she has more escape tricks than Houdini,” I warn him, but he just laughs, taking Jenny off my hands.
She trots off with him, and I’m left standing there awkwardly with Nana and Poppy. It’s awful. Never have I ever felt like this around these people, and I’m just not sure what to say. I feel like I’m a teenager again, forced to attend social outings with the Bostons where I know everyone is judging me behind the forced smiles and tight eyes. Not thattheywould judge me, just that same awkward feeling.
Nana puts her hand on my arm, and my eyes meet hers. “Come inside. We’ll have a cup of tea and talk about this.”
