Page 81 of Stables

“I’ll go check on that if you want to put her in her crib, please? There’s a gate that always blows loose in the wind.” She drops her purse just inside onto the end table, and begins moving across the yard.

My guts turn watching her walk away, but there’s not much I can do with a toddler in my arms.

Gently, I tug the damp coat off her tiny body, then lay her down on the small mattress.

With a sigh, she rolls onto her side and curls around a stuffed teddy bear, then settles back.

Char should have been back by now.

I’m torn between leaving Paisley alone in the house, and checking on Char.

I have to know.

Jogging through the renewed rain, water cascades from the brim of my hat until I reach the overhang of the heavy door to the stable.

“Char?” I can’t see her. My heart begins to race.

“Where are you? Answer me!” Fighting the panic from my voice, I try to glance into each stall as my pace quickens.

Then I see her, crumpled in the mud near the water trough, bowed over her knees clutching a piece of paper, her back shuddering in sobs.

Chapter 21

Char

I keep meaning tofix that darn gate. But I know I’ll have to sink a new post to do it.

Now that I’m pretty much healed up, I might move it higher up my priority list.

Buddy sticks his dark nose out of his stall and nods his head up and down as I pass through the dim barn.

I have this place memorized, so I don’t need the lights. The soft glow of the huge halogen out front casts enough illumination I’ll be able to see.

The dark void of several stalls pass me.

Weird, they usually come up to greet me.

Maybe it’s because Dixon has been feeding them the last few days.

Oh, there’s Juniper. And Ginger.

“Hi, babies. I’m sorry, no grain tonight.” I’m going to have to move Jade to the maternity ward soon along with Sammy.

Where is she?

Huh. The gate that usually falls open is closed up tight. Where is the thumping coming from?

Following the sound, I find the main pasture closure hanging wide open, with something white fluttering on the front.

My stomach drops when I see a knife holding the paper to it.

What the fuck?

Grabbing the handle, I yank out the blade, then squint to inspect the faded copy.

A registration form for Whiskey.

With Matt’s name still on the bottom beneath mine.

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