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“Everyone?” he asked, noticing the cleft between her breasts, visible in the open collar of her blouse.
“Nova, for one.” Trudie was teasing him, but he looked over his shoulder at the row of stalls and noticed the buckskin had stopped eating. His ears were flat against his head, and he was backing up, snorting and shaking his big head.
Ned started to laugh, was going to chide the horse for being a prude, but its change of demeanor registered. Something was wrong. Was it a full moon? First the dog, and now Diego—
Frida, too, had turned her head, ignoring her feed, and Nova let out a nervous nicker, her coat quivering, her nostrils flared.
Ned froze.
Trudie was still giggling, nibbling on his neck while, closer now, Copper was still barking. Sounding an alarm.
Ned had a quick premonition of danger. The hairs on his nape stood at attention. “Shhh.”
“Why?” she said and laughed. That glorious sound he usually loved. He placed his finger over her lips, and she started to nibble on them.
“No,” he whispered, and she stopped just as he heard the creak of old hinges. The slider door at the rear of the stables.
Shit. A damned intruder? Thief? What?
“The horses don’t—”
He placed the flat of his hand over her mouth and stared at her hard. Every muscle in his body tensed.
She got the message. Beneath him, her eyes rounded.
Was that a footstep? Was someone actually in the stable? He strained to hear or see anything out of the ordinary, as he moved all but one finger from her lips. He told himself he was overreacting. That he’d been tense lately. Jumpy. But he’d been around animals all his life, and the horses were spooked. By something. Maybe something as insignificant as a rat slipping through the straw, but he didn’t think so. They’d all stopped chewing, and three pairs of equine eyes were studying the back of the building, all looking deep into the umbra where, behind a half wall, equipment, including the old John Deere, was stored.
He saw nothing but the shadowy images of the machinery.
Half lying over the stack of feed sacks, Trudie was staring up at him.
Slowly, he removed his finger from her lips.
Her eyes rounded in newfound fear, she mouthed, You’re scaring me.
Nodding sternly to indicate she should be alarmed, Ned whispered, “Phone,” and hooked his hand to his ear, thumb and pinkie extended, middle fingers curled to indicate the silent “call me” message. In this case, he wanted to phone the police.
She shook her head and mouthed, in the house.
With his. Charging on the desk, side by side. He remembered.
He heard it distinctly then. Definitely the pad of a footstep on concrete. Inside the stable. But the intruder hadn’t yet come into the light, was still hidden in the back, as Ned had only hit one switch when entering the building.
Who the hell would be trespassing?
No one with any good intentions.
Maybe it was just a kid, but he didn’t think so. Should he yell at the person? Demand for him to show himself?
Something told him that would be a grave mistake.
The stable was open air, no glass in the windows. There was nothing worthwhile to steal except maybe the horses, but then a person would need a truck and a trailer and . . .
Another footstep.
He couldn’t take a chance. Not with Trudie’s safety.
Silently he motioned for her to get up.
