Page 13 of My Trojan Horse Majesty

“Okay.” I stop, holding my hand out toward him, palm out.

He shoves his nose against it. It’s surprisingly warm, and very, very soft.

“You’re sure sweet for someone who tried to destroy me, cover me with your sand-spray, and disappear forever, in that order.” I frown. “Repeatedly.”

He whuffles against my hand, almost like he’s trying to apologize.

“I certainly appreciate the improved manners.” I scratch under his chin.

He inhales slowly and shifts away.

Maybe that’s not his spot. I move my hand up, up, up and reach carefully behind his ears. It’s a very hit or miss spot, but when it hits. . .

He closes his eyes and stretches his whole neck out, his gigantic head reaching closer and closer until it’s nestled up beside my boob. If he weren’t a horse, I’d slap him. As it is, I just laugh. “Alright, alright.” I step back. “I have to go, now. I have some work to do in the house, on the computer. Before I start, I’ll get you the hay I promised. Why don’t you check out your new space.” I point. “Including the shelter on that end. It’s not too cold yet, luckily, but we could get a storm rolling through any day. The weather’s pretty unpredictable in Utah.”

He bobs his head like he understands.

“You donothave a winter coat yet.” I rub his cheek. “You’re way too glossy. I hope you shag out soon, or even a blanket won’t keep you warm.”

He snorts.

But this time, when I head for the exit, he stands stock still, staring at me. I can’t help waving at him.

He tosses his head.

I’ve barely left the enclosure when a car pulls up in the driveway. It’s not one I recognize, and I know most of Tim’s friends. It’s a plain, unmarked black sedan, but the two men who climb out are anything but boring. One of them’s also massively tall. He has to be over six foot five, because I’m five foot eleven inches, and he looks tall, even to me.

The other man’s very, very short. He’s also not very heavy, but he looks mean, like the pony in the pasture that you have to keep an eye on. He looks like he’d go for the knees and make it count.

Both of the men are wearing all black, including dark sunglasses. For an overcast day, it’s odd. But they also start walking toward me together, and it feels aggressive for some reason I can’t pinpoint. Maybe because I’m a girl? Maybe because I don’t know them. Maybe because I’m here alone.

I really don’t like that they’re between me and the house.

“Hey guys,” I say. “I’m just headed over to get some hay for our new horse here.” I point. “Unfortunately, Mr. Heaston’s not here. I’m just helping out with the animals until he comes back.”

I’m not sure why I say that, except I don’t want them to know any more about me than they do. I duck around the edge of the paddock and practically run to the small barn beside the two pastures. I shoot through the door and grab an armful of hay. Drago may not strictly need three full flakes, especially with as big as these are, but it gives me something to do so that I look busy.

Unfortunately, when I come out, they’re still out there.

Watching me.

“Yer Heaston’s girl,” the short one says. “I seen pictures.”

The tall one nods, but he doesn’t speak.

“We need you to call him now,” the short man says. He has a funny accent, but I can’t quite place it. Maybe it’s one of the odd New York ones I’ve only heard on television. “Heaston owes our boss a lot of money, and our boss has downright lost his patience.”

My pulse starts to pound hard enough that I can hear it in my ears.

This isn’t the time to freak out though.Focus, Izzy. “Um, that’s too bad.”

They’re both frowning, now.

I circle around them, giving them a wide berth, but they’re still moving toward me, their booted footfalls ominously loud as they crunch across the gravel. I move a little faster, my arms starting to complain about being held directly out. Why did I grab so much hay?

“How about this?” I suggest. “Once I have this horse settled, I’ll call Tim and let him know that you came by. He’s out of town, but hopefully he’ll be back soon.”

I’m almost to the paddock, but they’re moving faster. There’s only a few feet between us. As I see it, I have two options. I could chuck the hay at them and bolt for the house. My fear’s that I won’t get in and lock the door before they reach me. Or, I could head another direction. With just a few feet between me and the stallion pasture, I could duck in with the hay and hope they’re afraid of horses. With my luck, the idiot stallion’ll dart out the gate and trample me before the men even get a chance to hurt me themselves.

---