“I didn’t mean for this to become a shrine,” he said, glancing around. “I had to put all this stuff somewhere as it accumulated, and my need for order turned it into one. Now it’s more a mausoleum than anything else.”
“All these pictures,” A.J. marveled, focusing on one. It was of Devlin and Mercy at one of the Qualifiers. She remembered having watched them from the stands. “I was there for this one.”
He joined her. “That was a lot of years ago. A lifetime ago for me.”
“And I saw you win this,” she said, going over to one of the framed medals. It was like seeing part of her own history. “I was enthralled watching you and…”
A.J. stopped talking but kept looking.
When she’d surveyed the contents of the room, she said, “Thank you for showing me this. I’d always wondered where it had all gone.”
“This is the first time I’ve been in here in…God, it seems like forever. For a long time, I could barely stand walking by the door.” Devlin went over to the splayed saddle and picked it up off the floor. “I can’t tell you how much time I spent in this.”
He dusted it off and repositioned it carefully.
“This was my whole life,” he told her. “From daybreak until well into the night, the riding and competing was everything. Nothing else mattered.”
When he looked at her, his voice took on a strident tone. “Which is why I’m telling you to back off.”
A.J.’s brows crashed down over her eyes. “You didn’t get all these trophies and ribbons because you gave up. You worked hard. You made sacrifices.”
His laugh was harsh. “I sure as hell did. I sacrificed my goddamn partner.”
“Don’t say that.”
“It’s the truth. That morning when the accident happened, I took Mercy out for a warm-up I knew damn well she wasn’t fit for. She’d cracked a rail the day before and landed funny but I told myself she was fine.” His voice thinned. “I made the choice to press her because all I wanted was to win that goddamn cup again. I killed her for a goddamn silver cup.”
Devlin’s eyes shot over to the four sterling-silver Qualifier trophies that were mounted on the wall. A cold emotion, something close to hatred, settled into the lines of his face as self-blame washed over him in a wave.
A.J. went to him, stroking his arm.
He told her, “I can tell you it wasn’t worth it but I know you won’t believe me.”
“Of course I do!”
“Then you’re lying to yourself. Every day, when you get in that ring with Sabbath on the verge of exhaustion, you’re taking a dangerous sport and making it worse.”
She took his hands and brought them to her lips. “I don’t want you to worry. I can handle it.”
“I’m not just worried. I’m frustrated and I’m angry because I’m trying to save you from yourself.” He expelled a breath harshly. “Which is pointless. If someone had tried to put the brakes on me, I wouldn’t have listened, either.”
“Devlin, I’m strong and determined but I’m not reckless with that stallion. I’m scrupulous about keeping after his legs. I’m so careful—”
He was shaking his head. “You just don’t get it, do you? It’s not just about Sabbath. It’s about you.”
“And I need to do this.”
“If you don’t make it to the Qualifier, what do you think is going to happen? There won’t be any more trophies to win? No more events? Don’t get so fixated on three weeks from now that you forget there’s a whole damn calendar year full of rings to compete in. It doesn’t have to happen all at once.”
“But you’re the one who told me not to pull back at the fairgrounds. You were the one who refocused me after Marceau jumped all over us. Why are you telling me to turn back now?”
“Because you don’t look well.”
“Thanks,” she said gruffly, and pulled away. “Just because I’m not in show clothes, you don’t think I can take it.”
“That’s a cheap shot and you know it. Besides, what I’m telling you is to slow down, not walk away.”
Their eyes met and he hoped he’d reached her but when A.J. turned toward the windows, he knew she wasn’t going to change her course.
“What will you do if I keep going?” she asked finally.
“I love you,” he said to her back. “And I made a promise to you. I’m not going anywhere.”
He watched as her shoulders relaxed.
“I can’t get through this without you, Devlin.”
“Then don’t ask me to sit back and watch you self-destruct.”
“I’m a lot stronger than you think.”
She came over to him and he felt her arms come around his waist. He accepted her body against his, tucking her into him, wishing he could shelter her.
In Devlin’s heart, he prayed that getting her to the Qualifier wasn’t going to tear them apart.
Devlin and A.J. returned to the barn in a tense silence they tried to camouflage with banal conversation. Chester had just finished grooming the stallion and was putting the brushes away.
“It’s back to the pool for you,” A.J. informed Sabbath. “And this time, you’re getting your feet wet.”
“You’re going to try and get him into the water?” Devlin asked.
“That’s what I’ve been shooting for. The more exposure he gets, the better. What could be closer than getting four hooves in the jump?”
“But it’s cold out there.” Devlin was silent for a moment. “Wait. If you’re going swimming, I think I’ve got what you need.”
“Oh, no,” Chester said. “Not the Swamp Thangs.”
A.J. shot the man a curious look. “What’s a Swamp Thang?”
“They’re pretty indescribable.”
Devlin returned with the ugliest, most misbegotten set of rubber waist-waders A.J. had ever seen. They were big, they were motley green and they smelled awful.
“You’re kidding me.”
“These are no laughing matter.”
“You got that right.”
“They happen to be specially made.”
“Out of old trash bags?”
“You’ll thank me later,” he said, holding them out.
“Only if you make me.”
A.J. put them up against her and then went to step into one side. It was like volunteering to go into a mudhole.