Chapter Twenty
CHAPTER TWENTY
On the drive back to the ranch Devlin noticed Portia was unusually quiet. When he asked if she was okay she nodded and smiled, and though he sensed there was something on her mind he didn’t push. As he stopped outside his house and they climbed from the truck, Jethro and Jezebel raced up to meet them with Sammy jogging along behind them.
“Hey, Devlin,” the young man panted as he approached, “I’m glad you’re back. I was about to call you. There’s something up with that new chestnut. He’s real edgy.”
“Ah, yeah, thanks, Sammy. Portia, come with me, you should see this,” Devlin said briskly as he headed to the barn.
All the stalls had spacious attached corrals, but the horses spent their days in paddocks. The gelding had arrived the previous week. His name was Sandman, Sandy for short, and Devlin was letting him settle in before deciding on his pasture.
“See, he’s walkin’ in circles and doesn’t want his hay,” Sammy exclaimed. “He’s been whinnying as well.”
Devlin immediately understood why the horse was agitated. Grabbing a halter and rope, he opened the stall door and walked in.
“Easy, Sandy, I know,” he murmured, deftly slipping the halter over the horse’s head and leading him out.
Though the horse was prancing Devlin kept calmly walking, but as they left the barn Sandy whinnied loudly.
“What’s wrong with him?” Portia called, keeping up but at a safe distance.
“Even though he can see the paddocks and the other horses from his corral, he’s already bonded with the two on either side of him. Watch as I move him closer to their paddock. He’ll start to settle.”
As Devlin predicted, Sandy continued to whinny, but appeared to calm down.
“Are you going to let him join them?”
“Yep, I can now, but I’ll stay with him for the first couple of minutes.”
“Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Only if you don’t know what you’re doin’,” he replied with a wink. “Close the gate behind me.”
But as Sandy’s two new friends ambled across to greet their new stablemate, Devlin knew there’d be no issue and slipped the halter off his head.
“That’s a good boy,” he murmured, stroking the horse’s neck. “You can relax now.”
“How did you know?” Portia asked as Devlin walked out the gate.
“Separation anxiety is pretty easy to identify, but I had to make sure they’d get along before turnin’ them out together. He’s only been here a week or so, and it usually takes longer for horses to become friends, but they can surprise you. Remember I told you about Marge and Belle?” he continued, pointing to another paddock where the two mares were grazing. “They’re attached at the hip. If I take one of them out and leave the other, they start yellin’. I rescued them from a feed lot and I think they must’ve been together a long time.”
“That’s so sweet.”
“Yeah, though it can also be a problem. But I’m happy leavin’ things as they are between them. They don’t compete in the show ring anymore, but sometimes I use them for lessons. You’ll learn how to ride on Marge. She has the smoothest gaits.”
“I’m going to learn to ride?”
“Sure. You’ll be here a month. All work and no play is not a recipe for success or happiness, and you looked comfortable on her. You sat really well.”
“I did? Wow, thanks. I was surprised how much I enjoyed it. So…what now?”
“You should unpack, then meet me in the barn.”
“But…uh…where?” she asked, lowering her voice.
Devlin stared at her for a moment, then frowned.
“Ah, I see what you mean. Where do you want to be? You can have your own space at the cabin, or you can hang out with me.”
“You wouldn’t mind?”
“Let’s see…would I mind havin’ your gorgeous body in my bed every night,” he murmured, feigning a frown. “Hmm, now that’s a tough decision.”
“You’re a beast,” she exclaimed, punching his arm.
“Guilty, and you don’t know just how much of a beast I can be.”
“Will I get lucky and find out?”
“You are one sassy girl. Come on. There’s a guest room with an empty closet and dresser. You can put your stuff in there.”
* * *
After Devlin had carried Portia’s bag inside and placed it on the bed, he kissed her lightly on the cheek then headed off. Moving to the window, Portia watched him march towards the barn. His shoulders were squared, and she could imagine him as a sheriff in the Wild West wearing a gun belt around his hips about to face down an outlaw. With the image making her grin she began to unpack. But it was only a few minutes later her cellphone chimed, and when she glanced at the screen she saw it was him.
“Hi, this is a surprise. Do you miss me already?”
“Of course, but that’s not why I’m callin’. I just spoke to Pete, my vet. Your coffee was spiked with Rohypnol, otherwise known as the date rape drug.”
“Oh, my gosh,” she muttered, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I knew he’d done it, but hearing that has made me feel a bit weird. What should we do?”
“I’m not sure. We can talk about it more tonight. Maybe we should let sleepin’ dogs lie, but I don’t like the idea of him on the loose. There are other vulnerable women out there.”
“Yeah, I know. But at least he can’t get to me here.”
“Not a chance. Now finish unpackin’ and get over here. I’m in the feed room and we have work to do.