“I’ll try not to make a habit of it,” she said, pushing the bag into his hands. “But I didn’t want you to starve either. We have a full staff in the kitchen in the mornings to prepare breakfast for our guests, so there’s always a ton of food. If you’re ever in a pinch, just drop in. We’ll happily feed you.”
“I appreciate it. Really.” His stomach rumbled loudly in agreement, and Megan laughed. The sound did funny things inside him, making his pants tight and his heart light. His gaze dipped briefly to the silver pendant hanging between her breasts, the Tree of Life. She’d been wearing it yesterday too.
“How are the horses this morning?” she asked.
“I’m headed down to check on them in just a few minutes.”
“Okay.” She stepped back, turning to leave. “I’ll let you get to it.”
“Thanks again for breakfast,” he said. “I’m going to turn the horses out to enjoy the sunshine, so come down later this morning if you want to see them.”
Her eyes gleamed as she smiled again. “I’ll do that. Thanks, Jake.”
“Welcome.” He watched for a moment as she walked away, still fighting a mixture of lust and warmth, that irresistible combination Megan always stirred in him. Then, he ducked back inside and stood at the kitchen counter to pour himself a cup of coffee. He opened the paper bag and pulled out the muffin she’d brought. Damn, it looked good.
He took a big bite, and hallelujah, it tasted even better than it looked. Cinnamon and sweetness exploded on his tongue, almost like coffee cake, but in muffin form. He’d have to stop by the castle later to thank Beatrice. He inhaled the muffin and sucked down his coffee, wiped down the kitchen, and headed for the barn.
As he walked toward it, the knowledge swelled inside him that this was his. Twister was inside that barn.His horse in his barn. The culmination of all his hard work stood before him in the red-painted structure resting in front of the lush green fields beyond. He’d get to flex his muscles training horses and then flex his mind writing books. The spare bedroom would make a perfect office, and he couldn’t wait to get it set up.
He pushed the door to the barn open and was immediately greeted by a friendly knicker from Twister. The smell of hay and horse greeted him as he stepped inside, the familiar shuffle of hooves over shavings and a snort from one of the rescue horses.
“Morning, buddy,” he said as Twister’s chestnut face appeared over the entrance to the stall. He reached out and stroked the horse, earning himself a good-natured headbutt.
He’d owned Twister for about five years now, since he was just a colt. Twister was one of the first horses Jake had trained, back when he was still learning the ropes himself. “Did they behave themselves last night?” he asked his horse, gesturing toward the two mares across the aisle. Twister snorted, dropping his head to check Jake’s pockets.
“Sorry about that. I’ll make sure to get apples when I go shopping later.”
He gave Twister another pat before heading over to check on the foster horses. Both of them eyed him warily. As he approached, Dusty Star’s eyes widened until he could see the whites, ears pinned against her head.
“Easy there, girl,” he told her. He walked to the feed room and grabbed a handful of grain, which he offered Dusty as a token of his goodwill. She took it hesitantly from his palm, and then he stood by her stall, talking quietly until her stance had softened. She pressed her nose against the bars, sniffing at him. “You’re in good hands here,” he told her. “You’ll see.” He stroked her nose through the bars as her ears flicked rapidly.
In the next stall, Bug stood quietly facing the window at the rear, her dappled coat dotted here and there with purple antibiotic spray to treat her wounds. He slid her stall door open, talking gently to her. Almost immediately, she shuffled around to face him, ribs rippling beneath her ragged coat as she moved. Anger curled in Jake’s gut to think someone had allowed her and Dusty Star to live like this, starved and filthy.
Still talking quietly to her, he allowed her to sniff him before lifting a hand to stroke her neck, staying well away from her wounds. Bug was jumpy, skin twitching beneath his fingers, eyes wide and wary. These horses didn’t seem to have had much handling, and what interactions they’d had with people didn’t seem to have been pleasant. He’d do his best to help change that before they went to their future homes.
Even though he hadn’t known of their existence until yesterday and had initially not been thrilled about having them here, he was committed now to helping them any way he could. To that end, he treated Bug’s wounds and gave her and Dusty each a flake of the hay the humane society had sent over for them, a special blend that would be easy for them to digest. Colic was always a threat.
Twister hung his head over the stall door, stamping his displeasure at having been left out. “Jealous?” Jake asked. “Don’t be. You’re about to go graze on all the grass you can eat.”
Jake gave his horse a rub and then walked out to survey the available pastures. He would turn Twister out separately from the rescue mares. The back pasture seemed to be the largest, so he’d let Twister stretch his legs there. Bug and Dusty wouldn’t be able to handle much grass in their condition, so he’d put them out in the dirt riding ring today with more hay to munch on. Later, he’d give them a few minutes in one of the front pastures to graze. Gradually, over the next few weeks, he would increase their pasture time.
He spent some time familiarizing himself with the pastures and making sure there weren’t any holes or other hidden dangers for the horses, then filled the water trough in the back pasture and dragged an empty trough to the riding ring, where he filled it for the rescue horses.
He brought Twister out first. The horse lifted his head as he walked out of the barn, ears pricked, nostrils flared, taking in his new surroundings. “You’re going to enjoy this,” Jake told him. He led Twister through the open gate and unclipped his lead line. Twister paused for a moment before setting off at a jog, chestnut coat gleaming beneath the sun.
Jake leaned against the fence, watching his horse explore the new pasture. Twister went for a run, stretching his legs and kicking up his heels, before settling down to the ever important task of grazing on the thick, green grass at hand. After a few minutes, Jake went back inside the barn. He set up the tack room and mucked Twister’s stall before bringing the mares outside.
They stood in the sunlight, looking around uneasily before beginning to munch on their hay. Twister whinnied a hello from the back pasture, but Dusty and Bug ignored him for now. Jake turned to see Megan walking toward him on the path from the castle.
“How are they doing?” she asked.
“As well as we could hope for, I think,” he said. “They’re pretty wary of me at the moment, but I think they’ll settle down now that they’re here.”
“Why’d you put them in the riding ring?” She looked over at the empty pastures next to the one where Twister was grazing.
“Too much grass could cause them to colic or founder. I don’t want to make them sick.”
“Thank goodness you’re here,” she said quietly, coming to stand beside him at the fence. “We wouldn’t have had the first clue what to do with them without you.”
