“Hm?”
“You show up the day after Wilbert’s boy checked in.”
Easton stopped cold.
“Danny?” he asked, his voice low.
She nodded. “He’s here for a month. Butterflies program.”
For a moment, the air between them thickened with memory.
“What are the odds,” he murmured.
Nanny J didn’t answer. Just slipped her arm through his and walked the rest of the way beside him in silence.
Chapter Three
On the right, a trio of goats called out from behind a painted fence. Clancy was still there, no doubt the one whose bleat had startled him. What had been a plain goat pasture now had an elaborate climbing structure. It was built from polished logs and arranged like a preschool jungle gym. Ramps, steps, and platforms rose toward a napping area where a goat stood surveying the land like a smug monarch. Another flopped on a nearby ledge, lazily chewing its cud.
That definitely hadn’t been there before.
The barn was warm with the breath of animals, despite another inch of snow from last night outside. Sunbeams sliced through high windows in golden shafts that danced with dust motes. Somewhere behind him, a goat bleated with indignation, but mostly it was silent except for bird song, the rustle of wind, and the occasional hoof scuffle or horse snort.
Darian didn’t look away from the horse in front of him.
Starling stood perfectly still in the stall, one back hoof cocked lazily. The paint gelding’s black and white coat looked like someone had splashed ink on snow. The horse was absolutely stunning, especially in the filtered stable light. His mane waslong and thick, and his wide eyes blinked slowly as Darian moved the oval massage curry in steady circles along his flank.
The work was soothing. Even if the horses reminded him of rides with Wilbert. He inhaled sharply and focused on the soft rasp against warm hide. Letting out his breath slowly, he pulled in another lungful of air and concentrated on the earthy scent of straw and animal musk. He could get lost in it if he let himself.
Starling’s white muzzle nudged his shoulder gently. He lowered the curry and stroked the soft velvet. He followed the path of his fingers with his eyes. The horse had a black patch on his upper lip that looked like a mustache and gave him a certain dapper dignity. Starling sighed and leaned his forehead against Darian’s shoulder, and he had to brace himself. As Darian stroked his face, Starling slowly blinked. Those eyes were stunningly blue and vivid and full of more patience than Darian felt he deserved today.
He sighed and leaned into the horse. “You’re too good for me, Star.”
From the aisle, the quiet scuff of boots drew his attention. Travis tipped his chin in greeting, a rake in one hand and his other braced on the stall door as he leaned against it.
“Morning,” he drawled. Like the rest of him, his voice was deep and calm but somehow quiet. “You’ve got a good touch. Starling usually fidgets when dealing with newbies.”
“I’m not that new.” He kept stroking Starling’s face. “But thanks.”
Travis’s eyes narrowed. “Been here before, huh?”
He nodded. “A while ago. Just… needed to come back.”
“People say that a lot.” Travis shrugged and shifted the rake from his right hand to the other and dug the free one into his coat pocket. “There’s something about this place that doesn’t leave you alone once it’s got its hooks in.” He offered Starling a chunk of apple on a flat hand.
Darian watched as those velvety lips took the offered treat with the utmost care. “Yeah. I remember.”
They lapsed into silence, only the chomp, chomp of Starling chewing the apple and the rhythmic swish of his tail filling the space between them. Travis eventually moved off, muttering something about Wren and a hay delivery running late. Darian happily returned to brushing the horse. He had enough on his plate without chasing friendly conversations.
Dr. Sam Denten was expecting him in an hour.
He swallowed hard. He’d met the therapist yesterday for intake and still couldn’t decide if the warmth in his eyes was reassuring or terrifying. Like Wilbert, the man had a kind and measured voice, and he only spoke after careful deliberation. But Darian had been mesmerized by his strong hands that looked like they could fix a lot more than broken psyches.
It had been too long since he felt a firm hand coming down on his butt as he was bent over muscled thighs.
But he’d seen the wedding band and hadn’t that been a relief. Because if Sam hadn’t been married, Darian’s Little would’ve already added him to his very long list of inappropriate crushes. Darian knew better than to fall for the guy.
He closed his eyes for a moment and rested his forehead against Starling’s shoulder. The horse didn’t move an inch. Just breathed with him.
