Home > Leaping Hearts(77)

Leaping Hearts(77)
Author: J.R. Ward

He paused by the polo field, A.J.’s registration papers gripped tightly in his hand. A few competitors were already surveying the course from the outside with their trainers. When one group walked past him, he could hear their voices drop to a hush. Disregarding them, he tried to concentrate instead on the way the morning’s pale sunlight felt as it beat down on his back.

Warming though it was, it did nothing to relieve the cold vise around his emotions.

Devlin was grateful for the numbness. He had a feeling it was the only way he’d be able to get through the day. He was torn between wanting to be her trainer and being her lover, between having a job to do and wanting to pack her and the stallion back up and drive them all home.

Forcing himself to focus on the jump course, he stared ahead. At first, he could see nothing but rails and grass. Slowly, though, he could recognize jumps and then find the pathways the competitors would be traveling. The course was laid out in a predictably grueling way, with towering fences set close together. Its compact design meant tight corners and no chance of recovery if a competitor hit a stride wrong or was shaken off-balance.

He thought of A.J. and Sabbath and went back to the trailer.

“Stallion all right?” he asked Chester, who was running a brush over the horse’s coat.

“Seems fine, calmer than the last time we took ’im out in public.”

A.J. came around the corner. Anxious for a read on Devlin’s emotions, she scanned his face. “Do I have a good number?”

“Sixteen.”

“The course ready for walking?”

“In ten minutes. We should head over now.”

“Okay.”

As he turned to go, she saw that his face was closed, his mouth set. Together, they walked to the ring, attracting attention they ignored as best they could.

“Sabbath seems fairly calm,” she said.

He nodded.

“Shoes are solid. That loose one is tight as a tick.”

There was no response.

“Devlin, are you okay?” When he didn’t respond, she put her hand on his arm. “Please, talk to me.”

He halted reluctantly. “I don’t think you want me to talk right now.”

“I’ve been in agony for the last two days. It’s like you’ve left me. What’s going on?”

“A.J., now is not the time to go into this.” He looked around, meeting curious stares. “And this is certainly not the place.”

He resumed walking.

Catching up with his long stride, she said, “This has got to be hard for you, being back after what happened….”

Devlin wheeled around and gripped her arms fiercely.

“Nothing matters but you, okay? I don’t care about what happened to me last year. All that I’m thinking about is you.”

“If I’m the only thing on your mind, why do I feel like you’re so far away?”

“A.J., just drop it. Let’s go and look at the course.”

“No!” she hissed, struggling to keep her voice down. “Dammit, will you just tell me what’s going on?”

Devlin’s expression grew harsh. “What do you want from me? Do you really need to hear how exhausted and strained you look? I sure as hell don’t want to bring up all the pills you’ve been taking and the sleep you haven’t been getting again. We’ve argued about all of it before and we’re still standing here, at the Qualifier. None of it has changed your mind, and courtesy of your discipline, I’m going half mad, imagining that the worst is going to happen when you get in that ring.”

He swore as he saw the looks they were attracting. Dropping his hands to his sides, he looked uncharacteristically defeated.

“A.J., you don’t need this crap right now. Your focus has to be on the course and the stallion and yourself.”

“But I don’t want you to be upset.”

“Then do something for me. Forget about anything but the event. Put all distractions out of your mind. You’re going to need to focus if you’re going to get through this in one piece and at least I’ll have some peace of mind if I think you’re concentrating on the job.” He pushed a hand through his hair. “Hell, what I should be telling you right now is that I admire your strength of character and your hard work and your determination. That’s what your damn trainer should be doing. But I think I’d rather have you safe than successful.”

“Devlin, I—”

Over the loudspeaker came an announcement that the course was open for walking.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go.”

“Wait. I—”

“You want to be a champion, don’t you?” He looked past her, at the competitors and trainers who were heading toward the jumps. “If you do, we’ve got to get moving.”

But A.J. held them in place, standing still. She was searching for words of reconciliation and reassurance, desperate for some magical combination of syllables that would put his fears to rest, and reunite them.

There were none, she realized. As long as she was going into that ring. She flexed her arm, unconsciously.

“Will you be there after this is over?” she asked. “After the round?”

He sounded exhausted. “Of course.”

“I mean, will you really be there,” she said, meeting his eyes pointedly. “Will you be with me, not just around me?”

In the long silence that followed, her heart thumped wildly in her chest.

“Yes, I will.”

Only then did she take a step forward. Devlin followed.

As soon as they got inside the ring, her feet slowed of their own volition. She’d seen the kind of courses that were set up at the Qualifier, just never from the perspective of an entrant.

“The view is a lot more attractive from above,” she said, nodding at the stands.

Devlin waited for her to get her bearings, remembering when he’d first looked at a Qualifier course from the ground. It took a little getting used to and she wasn’t the only one who was wearing a shell-shocked expression. Only two out of four entrants actually competed. In spite of a hefty registration fee, every year there was a high dropout rate after the jumps were opened for inspection.

A.J. tried to breathe. She’d seen fences of the same height and turns as tight, just not so many packed into one course. There were fourteen jumps in all, including one with water, and they were menacing-looking, done in the club’s black and green colors.

The course started tough with three oxers in a row, a brutal combination that would shake up the field from the get-go. A hard turn to the left would be needed to make the next jump, a long, low wall, which was followed by a towering upright and two more oxers. A wrenching turn to the right would have the field coming into a combination of uprights, a vast wall of bushes and then the water jump. Directly thereafter, the competitors would have to double back in order to confront a mound obstacle that the horse and rider would have to leap up onto, then launch off of, to clear a rail fence at its far edge. The last two jumps were separated by a hairpin turn.

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