After the muffins were done, Devlin threw them onto a plate and offered them to A.J. Taking a few for himself, he settled down into his chair, stretched his long legs under the table and rubbed his foot against her ankle. She smiled at him.
“Better eat up, girl,” Chester said. “That stallion a’ yours is goin’ to be a lot to handle today an’ breakfast is the most important meal a’ the day.”
“Hey, I’ve got to ask,” she said. “How many years have you been eating that same breakfast?”
“Since fifty-nine.”
“What’d you have before that?”
“Bananas.”
“Just bananas?”
“Yup.”
“Nothing else?”
“Nope.”
“You are what you eat,” Devlin offered.
“Have you always had such odd eating habits?” A.J. inquired.
“Like to start m’ days off simply,” Chester explained. “Life gets complicated real quick on its own. No need to anticipate chaos with a breakfast a’ confusion.”
“But you eat spicy things in the afternoon. Those chili dogs I saw you wolfing down at the fairgrounds could melt paint off a car door.”
“Look, you’re talkin’ to a man who ate white food for m’ first twenty-three years. The tan color a’ peanut butter’s about as far as I like to go in the mornin’ but I’ve got a lot of eatin’ to make up for.”
“You only ate white food? How’s that possible?”
“White bread, rice, potatoes, the insid’a apples, spaghetti, chicken, turkey. Although not the dark meat, a’ course. There’s really a lot to choose from.”
Devlin laughed. “Now, I’ve always thought of poultry as more of a bisque color.”
“I was willin’ to grant certain leniencies.”
“Generous of you.”
“No sense in bein’ rigid.”
“Of course not.”
“You’re amazing,” A.J. said.
“Don’t I know it. Almost seventy an’ in great shape. Ya find something good, ya stick to it.”
“That’s for damn sure,” Devlin said, nodding at Chester’s bowl. “You’ve been eating out of the same dish here for the past five years.”
“And a damn fine piece a’ pottery she is.”
They all laughed.
When they were finished eating, Devlin disappeared upstairs briefly and Chester leaned across the table toward A.J.
“You know,” the man said softly, “it really wasn’t the same around here without you.”
“You don’t have to say that, but thanks.”
“It’s true. He missed ya somethin’ fierce. Was a god-awful terror. You two belong together.”
A.J. smiled. “You know, I’m inclined to agree with you.”
Down at the barn, Sabbath was beside himself with excitement, unable to stand still as A.J. groomed him on the crossties. While Devlin and Chester were out in the ring, dealing with the jumps, she talked to the stallion and was struck by how much she’d missed him.
When Chester came back inside, he said, “All set for ya out there.”
“Thanks.” A.J. returned the hoof pick to the groom box. “Say, I notice that loose shoe’s looking really good.”
“Can’t say the same for the blacksmith. But then, no man’s at his best with a picture of Garfield over one eye.”
“Come again?”
“It was on the Band-Aid we gave ’im.”
“And he needed the first aid because…”
“Twinkle toes over there decided to reach out an’ touch the guy.”
“You’re kidding me.” A.J. shot the stallion a glare.
Sabbath stared back at her, the picture of innocence.
“Don’t give me that look,” she said to the horse. “When he comes back, you better behave yourself.”
“He won’t.”
“Of course he will. I’ll be here to hold his head.”
“Not the animal—the blacksmith.”
“Huh?”
“Man’s not gonna come back.”
“Ever?”
“I don’t want to use his exact language, you bein’ a lady an’ all. Let’s just say it’ll be a long time an’ a different horse before he’ll set foot back in this stable.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Wish I was.”
Devlin came into the barn. “Are we ready to go yet?”
“Just about,” Chester said as A.J. went to get her saddle and bridle.
She was muttering something under her breath about meatheaded Thoroughbreds as she went into the tack room. And walked right into a stack of grain bags as tall as she was. She poked her head out into the aisle.
“What’s all the feed doing in here?”
“I’ll get your stuff,” Devlin said, marching past her and meeting her inquiring look with one of nonchalance. While he banged and crashed around in the little room, she glanced over to Chester, who rolled his eyes.
“Let’s just say, things didn’t run so good when you weren’t around.”
“I guess so,” she murmured, trying not to laugh as Devlin took a header into a pile of blankets.
“Did you see the truck?” Chester whispered.
A.J. nodded, covering her smile with a hand as Devlin emerged with his hair messed up and hay hanging off his sweater. He looked like he’d been through a war.
“You okay there, champ?” Chester asked. “Those there grain bags can be tough when they come atchya in a pack like that.”
Devlin shot the man a look as he handed the tack over to A.J. “Say what you will. At least the stuff is dry. Now, when you two are finished giggling, you can join me in the ring. I’ll be waiting out there to get started.”
“He gets so huffy when he’s embarrassed,” Chester remarked after Devlin left. “Always has.”
“You really shouldn’t tease him.”
“It’s the only exercise he’s been gettin’ lately.”
Once the stallion was saddled, A.J. tugged on a pair of gloves to keep her hands warm and accepted a leg up from Chester. Before they even entered the ring, Sabbath started tossing his head and prancing.
“Let’s get him working on the flat,” Devlin called out as Chester closed the gate behind them. “Before he jumps out of his skin.”