Page 16

Hepeeked around the stall’s door.

Althelia, holding what appeared to be a bowl of milk, strode toward her beloved puppies.

Inezrecognized her tread or perhaps smelled her, and a happy whine echoed from the puppy pen.

“Hello, my love. Forgive me for not greeting you and the darlings this morning. I’ve brought you warm milk.”

Noisyslurping commenced as Inez enjoyed her treat.

Altheliachatted on as if the dog was her dearest friend. “I’ve had trouble sleeping. Dreams of our visitor disturb my sleep most of the night. He’s quite the most enigmatic man I’ve ever met.”

Sheslipped inside the stall.

Altheliahad dreamed of Owen?

Adecidedly idiotic grin split his face.

“Sampson, my friend. Will you excuse me?” He kissed the gelding’s soft nose. “I have the most curious pressing need to say hello to Althelia.”

Sampsonblew out a horsey breath which Owen took as an affirmative response.

Perchance, he should also consider getting a dog?

He’dbeen lonely for a long time. A dog might be just the thing.

Castinga scorching glance ceilingward, he scowled.

OwenJamesPatrickLockington. Stop with these domesticated musings.

A horse?A dog?

Fancifulnotions about a nymph of a woman?

Nevertheless, his feet took him to Inez’s stall.

“Hello, Althelia.”

Acleverer greeting escaped Owen.

Noone would ever accuse him of waxing poetic.

Sittingcross-legged in a pretty rose and green gown, she glanced upward with an inviting smile.

Didshe suspect he’d overheard her chatting with the dog?

Ifso, he couldn’t detect any chagrin.

Althoughshe’d always been open and welcoming with him, he still braced himself for the expected awkwardness and rejection his presence usually elicited with females.

“Come in, Owen.”