“I know, Ches.”
The expectant look in the groom’s eyes was a demand.
“What?” Devlin asked.
“You know what.”
Devlin looked past the ring, to the mountains beyond. Was the eye contact they’d shared enough of a signal that A.J. was ready to hear him out?
He had to try.
“I’ll go talk to her.”
“About time,” Chester grumbled, leading the stallion back into the barn and leaving Devlin with a dilemma.
Having decided to take a chance and reach out, he found himself too impatient to wait for A.J. to show up the following day. And what he had to say was too important to do over the phone. He wanted to do it in person.
Then it dawned on him. It was Saturday. Her father’s birthday.
He thought for a moment. Then made up his mind. It looked like he was liberating his tuxedo from the mothballs.
Later that evening, while standing in her underwear, A.J. put the last pin in her hair and surveyed her new look in the bathroom mirror. Her thick auburn waves were twisted off her neck and piled on her head in a remarkably adept shot at a chignon. She’d been mostly interested in getting it all out of the way but the fact that the style emphasized her high cheekbones and heart-shaped face didn’t hurt.
She turned to the side, staring over her shoulder. With some eye shadow and a little lipstick, she looked like a different person. Granted, she wasn’t in jeans and muck boots, and lacy lingerie did add an allure.
A.J. heaved a sigh, and let her shoulders collapse. She didn’t feel like putting on a face and pretending to be happy. She didn’t want to interact with the kind of socialite crowd who were about to show up. She wanted to sit in her room, stare off into space, and try not to go crazy while her arm healed.
But duty called.
Resigning herself to the evening’s festivities, she went over to the dress hanging on the door. It was a filmy black creation, made of layers of paper-thin chiffon that fell from a tight, strapless bodice. She’d bought the dress for the coming holiday season, the only good outcome of an afternoon with her stepmother.
The two rarely spent any time alone and they never shopped together. Garrett, however, wanted some measure of connection between the women in his life and had a quiet way of getting his way. By playing to A.J.’s better nature and buying Regina off with the promise of a week at Canyon Ranch, stepdaughter and stepmother had gritted their teeth through a strained lunch followed by a trip to a high-profile boutique.
The gown had been heaven the moment A.J. slipped it on and now, standing in her bathroom, she felt its delicate waves go over her head again like a sigh. As she zipped up the back, she could feel the bodice clinging to her br**sts and the floor-length skirt brushing against her legs. She took a twirl in front of the mirror, thinking the discomfort of shopping with her stepmother might have been worth it.
It wasn’t like anything she normally wore, even to formal parties. If she had to dress up, she usually put on silk pants and bolero jackets or tailored floor-length skirts with simple, classic tops. With her hair done up and wearing makeup, she imagined people were going to be surprised. Staring at her reflection, she decided the look was part damsel and part seductress. It made a very feminine and powerful statement.
She wondered what Devlin would think of her.
The thought was like hitting a speed bump.
Devlin was never far from her mind and she missed him so badly it stung. Every day, when she went to visit the stallion, she knew he watched her from the kitchen window and there was a big part of her that wanted to follow the blue stone walkway up to the farmhouse, knock on the door and fall into his arms.
But she was still angry at him for lashing out at her. And she was scared. Scared by how much it had hurt to have him walk away from her. Frightened by the strength of her love for him. Terrified that he was right and they couldn’t have it all.
If she’d been just any other rider, he probably would have let her go after suggesting she see a doctor. That devastating argument would never have occurred. Instead, they’d had a blowout, she’d run away and now they were estranged. It was exactly the kind of situation he’d warned her about.
During her incessant introspections, A.J. often wondered if he was hurting as badly as she was. The need to know what he was feeling was why she’d finally looked up at him today. Across the distance that separated them, she’d seen the regret in his face and a yearning that went a long way toward making her feel better.
As she’d returned to the mansion, she’d decided it was time for them to talk. After almost a week of being away from him, she was ready. Tomorrow, she would go up to the farmhouse after she visited with Sabbath. She would tell him how much he’d hurt her and hear what he had to say.
And she prayed that whatever it was went far enough.
The idea of seeing him up close made her heart pound with a heady combination of emotions that was hard to separate. So much of her was just desperate to be with him and put the argument behind them but the rest was a jumble of unhappy contradictions.
A.J. sighed, refocusing on the full-length mirror. The woman staring back at her looked beautiful and confident.
What a lie, she thought. But let’s hear it for some damn good window dressing.
Turning away from the image, she left the bathroom and walked into her bedroom. It was an elegant space she knew well but she didn’t feel like it was hers anymore. Her childhood furniture, which she’d liked, had been thrown out when Regina arrived and redecorated everything. The baroque antiques and heavy satins that had been installed weren’t to A.J.’s taste but she’d learned to live with them. They’d been a concession so she could keep her trophies and ribbons displayed on the walls.
The only thing she still liked about the room was its bank of French doors that let in an abundance of light. Both sets opened up to a patio for her private use. Sitting there, she could look out over the magnificent sculptured gardens of the estate, four square acres of flower beds set off by blooming apple, cherry and pear trees as well as majestic maples, oaks and willows. In the distance, rising above the wooded tree line at the far end of the gardens, there was a mountain range that framed the lush flora beautifully.
Surveying her bedroom, A.J. found herself questioning its luxury for the first time. With her equestrian trophies sitting on antique mahogany and her show ribbons hanging off silk walls, it dawned on her how much she had taken for granted.
A knock interrupted her thoughts and she padded to the door in her stocking feet. When she opened it, Garrett was standing in the hall. He was looking dapper in his tuxedo and happy as he took in her appearance.