Chapter 8
Eight
“Well, the bank or executor or whatever is gonna have their work cut out for them.” Sebastian stood beside Laurel as they both took in the sprawling farmhouse with the peeling paint and warped porch steps.
The whole thing had an air of sad neglect that probably spoke to the age and infirmity of Josiah Massey.
He didn’t want to think about what he was going to find in the larger-than-expected barn about fifty yards from the house.
Not that it mattered. The property wasn’t his problem. His only concern was the horse.
Hunching her shoulders against the cold, Laurel shoved her hands into her pockets and continued to study the house. “Oh, I don’t know. The place has good bones. It could be really cute with a fresh coat of paint and some window box planters. Maybe a porch swing. It just needs some TLC.”
Amused, Sebastian glanced over. He knew Laurel well enough by now to understand that, despite her upbringing, she wasn’t snobbish in the least. But her attitude still surprised him. “I wouldn’t have expected you to be into the idea of a fixer-upper.”
She shrugged. “I appreciate a house that’s really a home, not a showpiece.
The house I grew up in was featured in architectural magazines.
God forbid we leave shoes by the back door or our beds unmade.
What would people think?” She tipped her head back to take in the expanse of the house, and Sebastian could practically see her assessing, making lists of what needed to be done.
“A place like this looks lived in. Like you could kick your feet up on the porch rail and relax with a glass of lemonade or a mug of hot coffee. It’s why I’ve loved visiting Logan’s farm.
There I can relax and just be. Hanging out with the dogs, walking around in sock feet and ancient jeans and my most comfortable sweater. ”
That was the real Laurel, Sebastian realized. The one who didn’t need artifice or social graces or worry about appearances. The one who’d shared his bed last night as if she’d always been there.
When she headed toward the house, Sebastian found himself following.
Climbing the porch steps, she stroked a hand along one handrail.
“If this were my house, I’d paint it a lovely blue gray—you know that color you see in the Blue Ridge Mountains—with a nice, crisp, white trim.
I’d get those big hanging ferns for all along the front.
Maybe a couple of half whiskey barrel planters to flank the front door, filled with petunias or impatiens.
Something really bright and cheerful. The barn would be painted red. ”
Willing to play along for a few more minutes, he nodded. “Naturally.”
“I’d hang a porch swing just here. An oversized one that had room for cushions.
Or maybe one of those old fashioned two-person gliders like my grandparents had.
And every morning, I’d come out here so I could drink my coffee and watch the horses.
” She leaned against the porch rail and sighed in contentment, as if she could actually see the view.
Coming up behind her, he caged her in against the rail, loving when she leaned back against him. “There are horses in this fantasy?”
“Obviously. I mean, look at the size of that barn.” They both glanced toward the massive structure that had clearly housed far more than a single horse at some point in the distant past. “What else would I use it for?”
“What, indeed?”
As she continued to paint a picture with her words, Sebastian could see it.
He could see her here. More, he could see himself here beside her.
He could imagine waking up with her, as he had this morning, rolling over to make sleepy love to her before starting his day with barn chores and coffee and the fuel of her sweet, sweet smile.
He liked having her in his bed, in his life.
And that was a dangerous thought. No matter what else she decided to do for her career, it wouldn’t be sticking around in tiny town Tennessee to be with him.
She wanted to use that big, beautiful brain of hers, and there was no need for it here.
At the end of this trip, she’d be going back to Nashville, and from there to who knew where.
They had an expiration date. He’d do well to remember that.
Needing to get away from the mental image she’d created before it burrowed in and made a permanent home in his head, he straightened, and headed for the truck.
By the time Laurel joined him, he’d dropped the trailer ramp and grabbed a lead rope. “Let’s go meet Maestro.”
Morning light filtered in through high windows, illuminating the long aisle down the middle of the barn. It was bigger than the one at Logan’s place, with more than two dozen stalls at a glance.
“Big place.” Laurel’s voice echoed in the empty space.
“Yep. It’s old, but well-built. Looks like he or whoever came before him had quite the operation at one time.
” Curiosity stirred. At a little over two thousand people, Eden’s Ridge wasn’t big enough to justify a place like this just for boarding horses.
A facility this size had to have been used for breeding or training. Tennessee Walkers? Quarter Horses?
“I wonder why Mr. Massey was down to the one horse.”
“Couldn’t keep up with more than the one I guess.”
At the head of the row, a hoof gave a sharp rap against a stall wall.
“Impatient,” Sebastian murmured.
“I don’t blame him. Didn’t you say he’d been on his own for several days until yesterday? I’m surprised Ty got him back into the stall.”
“Yeah. I want to get him out, look him over for any injuries. Ty’s not experienced enough to notice anything that’s not major. There’s a good chance he might’ve hurt himself trying to get out when he got hungry enough.”
At the stall door, Sebastian got his first look at Maestro. At a solid sixteen hands, the Appaloosa was a dark gray, stretching back into a spotted white that was characteristic of the breed. Or he probably was under the dirt. “Well aren’t you a big, beautiful bastard?”
The gelding snorted in irritation, tossing his head as if to say What took you so long?
Sebastian fished one of the carrots out of his coat and held it out on the flat of his palm. Maestro neatly plucked it up, inhaling it in three, quick bites before shaking his head and turning a restless circle.
“You like that, huh? How about another?”
They went through the routine twice more before Maestro tolerated a stroke down the nose.
“Let’s get you out and see what’s what.” Carefully, Sebastian unlatched the stall door and eased it open.
Something darted past his feet with a yowl.
Laurel jumped and screamed. “What the hell was that?”
They both stared at the pile of hay where the creature had disappeared. “Not sure.”
Her cheeks paled. “Rats don’t make that kind of a noise, do they?”
“No. At a guess, I’d say a cat. I guess our boy hasn’t been here all alone after all.” Turning back to the stall, Sebastian slipped inside, automatically latching it behind him as he turned to wait for the gelding to come to him.
It didn’t take long. He let Maestro sniff, stroking down the strong neck. This horse definitely hadn’t been neglected beyond the past few days. He wasn’t skittish or ill-tempered. It was a refreshing change to what he usually faced with a rescue.
“Open the door for me, will you?” Clipping a lead rope onto Maestro’s halter, Sebastian led him out of the stall and out into the brisk winter sunshine.
In the corral, he tied the gelding to a rail and carefully ran his hands over every inch, checking for heat or other signs of injury or infection. Maestro tolerated the inspection, shifting occasionally and swishing his tail, but otherwise minding his manners.
“He’s in good shape. Could use a good grooming, but otherwise, he’s no worse for wear.”
“What will happen to him?”
“I’ll take him for now. But after that…it’ll depend on what happens with Massey’s estate.
From what Ty said, there was no next of kin to inherit.
I don’t know what was in the old guy’s will, or even if there was a will, but I expect the property will be sold to pay off any debts against it.
The horse might be considered part of that.
Depends on what the executor says, I guess.
We’ll see he’s taken care of in the meantime. ”
Laurel stroked the horse’s neck. “Then let’s load him up and take him home.”
Hearing her call the farm home gave Sebastian another moment of pause. A tiny flicker of hope began to flare that maybe…just maybe…
Don’t be a fool.
He understood the parameters of this thing between them, and forevers weren’t a part of it. The sooner he got that through his thick skull, the better.
Clucking, he tugged his new charge toward the trailer.
At the ramp, Maestro balked. “Come on now, bud. You can’t stay here.” Sebastian circled him around and tried again with the same result.
“We’ve got company,” Laurel said in a low voice.
Sebastian glanced back to see a scruffy gray tabby cat bellying out of the barn. The animal was missing most of one ear and had a scar beside its left eye that gave the thing a piratical look. Maestro bobbed his head and the cat rose from its crouch to prowl a few steps closer.
“Guess they were barn buddies,” Sebastian said.
“We can’t just leave him here.” Laurel crossed toward the cat, dropping into a crouch when the thing flattened against the ground. “Come here kitty. Come here baby.”
Sebastian had his doubts about whether they’d actually be able to catch the tomcat. “Let me load up Maestro, then I’ll help you round up the cat.”
This time, when he led the horse to the trailer, he clopped right on up the ramp. “Good boy.”