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Or maybe I’d just been focused on forgetting about Jillian.
After Kim left, I texted Gordon. He arrived a few hours later with a suitcase, three packs of beer, and a bottle of scotch. “No plans for this weekend?” I asked dryly as I let him in.
“Of course I had plans,” he snorted. “Two dates with two fetching ladies. I had fantasies of having those dates overlap, but now I’m stuck with you. Are we drinking on the porch or in the kitchen?”
“Neither,” I said grimly as I took the bottle from him. “Put the beer in the fridge and come with me.”
He didn’t say a word as we walked outside and headed to Silva’s stall. Although the stallion wasn’t as bad off as before, I could see that he’d lost some weight, and I cursed myself.
“Wonderful. Drinking in a barn,” Gordon sighed.
Kim and Debra had apparently already moved Darling to the mare’s barn where she’d have the bigger stall. With her previous pregnancy, Darling had proved to be a protective mother and tended to be a little more aggressive. She needed her privacy, but that meant that Silva was all alone. With Jillian gone, he’d apparently lapsed back into his depression.
I should have seen it coming. The stallion and I had something in common.
“Quit whining.” I opened the gate and went inside to check him out. I wanted to make sure there wasn’t something else responsible for his eating habits. “Hey, boy. I hear that you aren’t eating. That just won’t do.” Running my hands along his body, I kept one palm flat up against his flank to see if it tensed or quivered. He patiently stood still while I checked him over, but I found no outward injuries.
“We’re going to drink in a barn and talk to a horse.” Gordon leaned against the gate and stared at me. “Is this the same horse that Jillian therapized?”
“She didn’t counsel him,” I said, irritated. “She just kept him company. He likes females.”
“Well, maybe you should invite her up here because neither one of us are female.”
There was a cough and a quick bark of laughter. “That’s good to know,” Harry wheezed. His cane struck the floor as he entered.
Exchanging a look with me, Gordon immediately unfolded a chair for the old man. “Mr. Blackwell. I didn’t know that you were coming by tonight.”
“Hadn’t planned on it. Got irritated when Brendan didn’t answer my calls this week,” he said as he sat down. “Figured I’d come down here myself and see what was going on. Saw the light on at the barn. Is that scotch?”
“It is.” Gordon held it up. “Really nice scotch. Not the kind that you drink in a barn, but here we are anyways. Want me to pour you a glass? I think Brendan keeps some real classy mason jars around here somewhere.”
“You know, there was a time when you mucked shit out of a stall too,” I growled as I patted the stallion’s neck. “Just because you moved to the city and decided to be some slick lawyer doesn’t mean you forget where you came from.”
“I’m here, aren’t I? Putting up with your abuse. It’s like déj vu.” He pulled a few glasses down from the cabinet and poured. “I don’t know if you know this, Mr. Blackwell, but Brendan stayed with me after his fake divorce. He was just as surly then, although I think he drank more. I guess responsibility has tempered him a bit. He also slept around a lot. I’m happy to see that has changed as well. I didn’t really love that there was a new girl naked on my couch every weekend.”
“Gordon,” I said sharply. “What the hell is wrong with you, man?”
The older man accepted the drink. “If we’re drinking expensive scotch in a barn and reminiscing about the past, please call me Harry. And continue. I find this story to be quite interesting.”
I shot Gordon a look as he handed me a glass. “I was twenty-two and had a broken heart. Now I’m not twenty-two, and I don’t have a broken heart. The only similarity is that Jillian is gone.”
“You don’t have a broken heart?” Gordon barked in laughter. “Your sister called me three days ago in tears because you told her to quit training horses and stick with what she was good at. I booked her a hotel and spa treatment in the city because she needed to spend some time away from you.”
Inwardly, I winced. I did vaguely remember that conversation. “She’s okay at training horses, but she’s no Debra, and I need her focused on other things.”
“She’s no Debra because Debra has at least a decade of experience behind her, and both Debra and Ben have admitted that one day, she’s going to be good. Really good. The kind of trainer that ranches fight over, and you’re throwing that away because you want people to be just as miserable as you. But, yeah. Your heart isn’t broken.”
