“What was that?” I asked.
Malachi looked around me and shook his head. “That’s just Lady.”
I watched as the mount Tonya had been riding lipped at the top fence rail, bit down with her top teeth, arched her neck, and sucked in a huge lungful of air. “What’s she doing?”
“She has a bad habit of cribbing.”
I looked back at him. “Before I go making wild assumptions about baby beds like I did with the worming, you want to explain to me what that is?”
His mouth hitched. “Mostly, cribbing is a bad habit in some horses. Whenever she sucks in the air like that it releases endorphins in her brain and gives her a bit of a high.”
Another deep, throaty sucking sound rent the air. Wait a minute. “Are you telling me that horses can become addicts?” He had to be trying to pull my leg.
“Well, not like drug addicts. Unless the drug is air. Then”—he shrugged—“I guess you can say that.”
Lady pulled back again, lapping in oxygen like a snorting heroin addict. “Is there a horse rehab for this particular vice? I mean, can she overdose on air?” I never would have imagined the things that had come out of my mouth in the last thirty minutes.
Malachi looked at me like I imagined Molly would look at her preschool students when they asked a ridiculous question—thearen’t you cute?andI’m trying not to laugh while answering you seriouslylook. “No, there isn’t a horse rehab, but like any addiction, once a horse starts cribbing, they usually don’t stop. Windsucking can lead to colic, which can be serious, but the gulping of oxygen she does isn’t going to make her OD.”
My lips pushed up. “Is this one of the most ridiculous conversations you’ve ever had with a guest?”
He rubbed at his jaw. “I’m not sure I’d say that. But I would have to say, out of everyone,youhavesurprised me the most.”
10
Malachi
“No.”
My pulse throbbed in my throat. I’d relived that moment this morning with Jocelyn a million times over in my head, and with every repetition, mortification cinched my ribs near to bursting. I’d winked—winked!—and called her darlin’. “I’m not asking you, Nate. I’m telling you.”
My little brother’s infernal lips curved in an arrogant smirk. One that should have landed him a record deal and caused all the ladies to swoon at his feet but which just made me want to wipe it off his smug little face.
“And I’m telling you no.”
“What is going on out here?” Gran stormed out of the back door, hands on her hips and thunder in her eyes. “Because I’m sure-as-shootin’ certain it isn’t two grown men bickering like hens in a chicken coop.”
I lowered my chin so she couldn’t see the frustration in my eyes. Gran didn’t deserve my annoyance. That was all directed at my dumb brother. “No, ma’am.”
“Mal’s shirking his duties, Gran.” Nate tattled like we were kids again—amusing himself by getting me in trouble.
Gran had liked to quote Vidal Sassoon to us growing up:The only place where success comes before work is in the dictionary. And if she’d needed to punctuate that quote with a swat on the backside for motivation, she’d done that too.
Gran shifted her regard to me. “That doesn’t sound like Malachi.”
An entire lifetime of sweat, sore muscles, and calloused hands proved I wasn’t afraid to do what needed to get done.
“He’s trying to foist all the responsibility of dealing with the corporate group on me.” Nate rolled onto the balls of his feet. “There’s a certain young lady who I think he’s trying to avoid.”
Gran’s hands fell from her hips. “Nowthatsounds like Malachi.”
My head snapped up. “Hey now. That’s not it—”
She gave me herwho do you think you’re trying to pull one over on?look.
“—entirely.”
“Mmmhhhmmm.” Her eyes fell from me and narrowed on Nate. “Stop teasing your brother. You two are peas from different pods. What comes naturally to you, doesn’t so much for him.”
