Men of Intrgue A Trilogy (77 page)

“Harry went back to the house,” he announced. “We can take as much time as we want. Harry just asked us to let him know when we’re through so he can lock up. I think he’s worried about old forty-G Dancer heading for the hills.”

“So am I. Let’s make sure we bar the door when we leave.”

Devlin hung the equipment on a nail and slipped the gate to Blossom’s stall, moving inside and talking softly to the horse. “Don’t worry,” he called to Angela, still petting Blossom. “I’m very careful about locking the barn door before the horse has flown.”

Angela was pondering the significance of that remark when Devlin slipped a rope halter over Blossom’s head and led her out of the stall. “She’s a doll, this one,” he said, smiling and patting Blossom’s velvety flank. “She’s in love with me already.”

She’s not the only one, Angela thought dryly. She watched as Devlin romanced the horse, walking her around and letting her get used to him.

“Open the door,” he said to Angela. “I’m going to try her out and make sure she has no quirks before I put you on her.”

“Sounds good to me,” Angela replied, standing aside as man and horse went past her into the yard.

“Close it,” Devlin instructed.

Angela obeyed, watching in wonderment as Devlin braced his feet and then flung himself on the back of the horse. Blossom danced a little, and then stood still.

“Good girl,” Devlin crooned, bending forward to talk into Blossom’s ear. He ran his hands over her neck, gentling her.

“You ride bareback?” Angela asked.

“That’s how I learned,” he replied, kicking Blossom’s sides with his sneakered feet. She ambled forward. “Lots of horses will take a man on the back easier than a bit in the mouth. The Indians knew that. I avoid the gear if I can, and Blossom here doesn’t need it.”

“Is that why you’re taking such time with her? Harry said she was gentle.”

“Why, sure she is, but she didn’t know me before today. Why scare her if I don’t have to?”

Blossom cantered in a circle, perfectly happy. He handles me the same way, Angela thought, not without a note of rancor. A female was a female to him, equine or human.

“I’ll just run her a little and bring her back. Wait here. I won’t be long.”

Angela nodded, and leaned against the door as Devlin led Blossom to a trail and headed for the woods. He gripped the animal’s flanks with his knees as she speeded up and took to familiar ground.

He doesn’t even know the trail, Angela thought dreamily. She wasn’t concerned. He was as at home on a horse as she was on an elevator.

Devlin returned a few minutes later and slipped off Blossom’s back.

“No problem,” he said. “She’s as consistent as sunrise. Doesn’t balk at tree limbs or stop short at ruts. She’s a lamb.”

“Okay. Let me try.”

Devlin got the saddle and harness, speaking softly to Blossom as he got her ready. She obviously trusted him, and stood docilely while he added each piece of equipment, accepting the bit without complaint.

“I’ll walk her a little. Watch me,” Devlin said.

Angela observed him as he led Blossom around the yard.

“She’ll be able to tell that you don’t know what you’re doing,” Devlin said, stopping next to Angela. “So I’ll lead you first, or she might try to take advantage of your inexperience.”

“Is she that smart?”

He grinned. “Haven’t you ever heard of horse sense?”

Angela squared her shoulders. “I’m ready.”

He cupped his hands and gave her a leg up onto the horse’s back. Blossom whinnied and reared slightly. Angela clung to the pommel for dear life.

“What is it?” she asked, panicked. “She didn’t do that with you.”

“Talk to her, touch her,” Devlin instructed. “You’re being too shy with her. Go on, now.”

Angela patted the horse’s mane gingerly, trying to relax.

“That’s good,” Devlin said. “Now take the reins. And don’t yank on them or you’ll hurt her.”

Angela accepted the leather straps nervously. “I didn’t realize that I would be so high,” she said to Devlin. “I feel like I’m sitting on an elephant.”

“Calm down,” Devlin said soothingly. “I’m right here.”

“You’re not on the back of this horse!” Angela said sharply.

“I’m too heavy to ride double with you,” he answered. “We don’t want to overburden Blossom.”

“You’re more worried about this damned animal than you are about me!” Angela exclaimed, outraged.

To her further annoyance, Devlin burst out laughing. “Believe me, Your Highness, that animal needs more protection than you do at the moment. There’s nothing worse than a frightened rookie rider.”

Angela’s mouth became a grim, determined line. “Fine. Show me what to do and I won’t be a rookie anymore.”

“That’s the spirit. First, straighten up, don’t slouch. Relax your back muscles.”
 

“How can I relax my back muscles and straighten up at the same time?”

“Like this,” Devlin said, reaching up to run his hands down her spine, then position her shoulders. “Feel the difference?”

“Yes,” Angela answered grudgingly. Damn him, he did know what he was talking about.

“Now hold the reins loosely, tight enough to retain control but not tight enough to pull back on Blossom’s mouth.”

Angela adjusted her grip.

“Good. I’m going to smack Blossom’s rump, and she’ll walk forward. Just let her go, I’ll walk beside you.”

“What if she runs off into the woods?”

“Then I guess we’ll never see each other again.”

Angela glanced down at Devlin, who was staring at her wide eyed in mock seriousness.

“Brett, trust me. This is no time to get cute.”

“All right, all right. She won’t run off into the woods unless you kick her into a gallop. Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

Devlin smacked Blossom, and she trotted forward easily. Angela hung on warily.

“Don’t bounce,” Devlin instructed. “Sit steadily.”

“How?” Angela called. “She jounces me with every step.”

“Grip with your knees. Not hard, just touch her.”

Angela did so and improved her balance.

“Is that better?” Devlin asked.

“I think so. Can I go faster?”

Devlin grinned, jogging after them. “Sure. Jab her with your heels and she’ll pick up speed.”

Angela complied, and Blossom shot forward, almost unseating her. Angela struggled to regain control as Devlin shouted directions.

“Sit down!” he yelled. “Don’t lift out of the saddle. Grip the reins. Don’t yank on them!”

Angela brought the horse to a stop, and then turned on Devlin. “Stop yelling at me! I’m doing the best I can.”

“You’re doing fine; nobody said you weren’t,” Devlin replied calmly, striding over to stroke Blossom’s flanks.

Angela looked at him. “Am I really doing fine?”

“Certainly.”

“It didn’t sound like you thought I was.”

“I was just trying to bail you out of trouble,” Devlin said, rubbing Blossom’s nose. “You’re eager and getting ahead of yourself.” He looked up at Angela, astride the horse, and his eyes were candid. “You’re no coward, Angela.”

Angela waited a moment, then cleared her throat. “That’s a very nice thing to say.”

“It’s the truth. You were afraid to do this but still went through with it. Courage isn’t the absence of fear, you know. That’s stupidity. Courage is being afraid, and going ahead and doing it anyway, because you think you must.”

“You sound like you’re talking from firsthand experience.”

“Everybody on earth has been afraid at some time or other.”

“What scares you, Devlin?” Angela asked, watching his reaction.

“Maybe just losing the good opinion of a certain red-haired girl,” he replied, not looking at her.

Angela held her breath. What did he mean? She waited for him to go on, but instead he said, “A few more turns around the yard on your own and then we’ll give old Blossom a rest. Next time we’ll go out on the trail, and I’ll take another horse and ride along with you.”

Angela trotted off happily. There would be a next time.

Clouds were gathering as she continued her ride. Devlin looked on as she passed in front of him, and he glanced up at the threatening sky.

“Hurry up,” he called, cupping his hands to make himself heard over the rising wind. “It’s going to rain.”

Angela ignored him, entranced with her achievement. She kept going until the first large drops fell, plopping onto the dry earth.

“That’s it,” Devlin yelled, waving her in to him. “The horse will take cold.”

The horse will take cold, Angela thought grumpily, lowering her head against the now steadily falling rain. I could get pneumonia. She pulled on the reins to slow Blossom down, halting in front of Devlin, who grabbed for the pommel. He steadied the horse and then reached up for Angela as she slipped off Blossom and into his arms.

She was clasped for an instant against his chest as they stood fused in the drenching rain. Then he turned her face up to his and smiled at her.

“You are one soggy equestrienne,” he said softly. “Let’s get you and this wilting Blossom in the barn to dry off.”

Angela unbolted the door and Devlin led the horse inside.

“I’ll have to rub her down,” Devlin said. “I can’t put her up wet or she’ll get sick.” He surveyed Angela, who looked no better than the horse. “Let me see what I can find for you to change into. Your clothes are soaked.”

The intercom on the wall buzzed, and Angela answered it. She had a short conversation while Devlin rummaged in a wooden chest in the tack room.

“Was that Harry?” he asked, emerging with a bundle in his arms.

“Yes. I told him that you would take care of Blossom. He asked if we needed anything and I told him we were okay.”

“You could have used some dry clothes from his wife. This was all I could find.” He held up a scratchy horse blanket that had definitely seen better days.

“No use in bothering Mrs. Colebrook about it,” Angela replied. “She’d only get wet bringing the stuff over here. It’s pouring out there.”

Devlin shrugged. “Okay,” he said, handing her the blanket. “Just wrap up in this and spread your things on one of those hay bales to dry.”

Angela obeyed, draping her jeans, sweater and underwear over the block of straw and cuddling into the blanket. It was rough but warm.

“How do you feel?” Devlin called from Blossom’s stall, where he was rubbing her down.

“Wonderful,” Angela called back, sitting on the bale next to her clothes in the empty stall. “But tired.”

“You’ll be sore tomorrow,” Devlin observed.

“Thanks for telling me,” Angela said, settling down sleepily. “I’ll have that to look forward to in the morning.”

There was silence for a while as Devlin dried and curried the horse, shrugging out of his damp shirt as he warmed to the work. He hummed under his breath, enjoying the feel of the animal’s body under his hands. It took him back to his boyhood on the farm. Sand Dancer watched him impassively from across the barn.

Devlin finished his task and got Blossom water and some oats. He left her munching in quiet contentment and went to get Angela.

He found her in the stall near the door, fast asleep.

Devlin leaned against the wood frame, his arms folded, watching her slumber. The blanket had slipped in her sleep to expose one creamy shoulder, and her hair fanned out from her head like a vivid stain on the pale hay. She was sprawled carelessly in the limp, boneless manner of an exhausted child.

Too much activity on two hours sleep, Devlin thought. He was feeling pretty beat himself, since he’d had even less sack time than Angela. He turned away and went to the small window next to the door. The rain pelted down in sheets, limiting visibility to a few feet. He glanced back at Angela, who slept on, heedless of his scrutiny.

He might as well let her sleep. Driving would be difficult now anyway. Angela could take a nap while the storm blew itself out, and then he would take her back to the city.

Devlin walked back to her side, studying the slight rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. He sighed. The sound caught in his throat, like a smothered sob.

What a mess. He loved this girl, and he was in real danger of losing her once the true reason for his presence in her life was revealed. He wished he could take her away now, anywhere, just someplace where his job and the responsibilities it imposed on him could be forgotten.

But there was no such place. His conscience followed him everywhere. And who deserved the greater loyalty, the government and the people it served, or this pale, fragile young woman who slept so peacefully a few feet away from him, unaware of his inner turmoil? No one should have to make such a choice.

He ran his hands through his hair, tempted to join Angela on her bed of hay. He moved toward her slowly, trying to talk himself out of it. But he couldn’t. What the hell. An hour or so of holding her close couldn’t do any harm and he felt that it would do him a great deal of good.