Page 26 of Second Time Around
As they toured the stable yard, Schuyler shared little sketches of information about each horse, her deep love for them clear in the way she touched and talked about them.
“Did you ever consider being a professional equestrian?” Kyra asked her.
“When I was a kid, sure,” Schuyler said with a shrug. “But when Will ditched law school, I had to step up.”
She threw her brother a teasing glance but his lips were drawn into a tense, flat line.
“Lighten up, Will,” his sister said, giving him a nudge on his shoulder before she turned to Kyra. “Honestly, lawyering is in the Chasegenes, so I’m happy with my chosen field. I just sometimes wish I could use my skills for something more ... meaningful.” She shrugged again. “Listen to me, sounding New Agey.”
“I get it,” Kyra said. “That’s why I work with the kids at the Carver Center. It balances my other job.” And her laser focus on paying off her debt, which made her feel mercenary at times.
A dark-brown horse stretched out his neck to lip Kyra’s hair into his mouth and give it a gentle tug. “You’re a playful fellow, aren’t you?” she said with a startled laugh, stroking the hard, graceful curve of his neck.
“That’s Will’s horse, Bucephalus,” Schuyler said, feeding the friendly creature a carrot.
Will shook his head. “Not mine anymore.” But he stroked the horse’s nose and scratched behind his ears. “How are you doing, old man?”
“Alexander the Great’s steed,” Kyra said. “You named him?”
“With an utter lack of modesty,” Will said, still petting his former mount.
“Do you ever ride him?” Kyra asked.
“No, and I feel guilty about it. The grooms exercise him,” Will admitted. “But I’m too sentimental to sell him. Horses aren’t always treated well when they get sold on. I owe Buccy a happy life, even if I can’t be part of it.”
She’d never seen Will around an animal before. His affection for the horse made her heart twist.
Schuyler took a sip of champagne. “I didn’t hear any explosions so I assume you managed to avoid Petra.”
“Only by Farr’s intervention,” Will said, the muscles in his face tightening again.
“Headed her off at the pass, did he?” Schuyler said. “He’s a good friend.”
“One of the best,” Will agreed. “Why don’t you go out with him, Sky?”
Schuyler gave her brother an odd look. “He’s not interested in me.” She tossed back the rest of her drink. “I’m going to return to the fray. The stable office is unlocked but I recommend lounging on the hay bales in the feed storage room. It smells nicer.”
“Office or hay bales?” Will asked Kyra, as Schuyler climbed into her Mustang golf cart.
“Definitely hay bales,” Kyra said. “I can pretend I’m a horsewoman.”
“First stop, the tack room then. I’ve learned that rolling in the hay isn’t as comfortable as it looks.”
Will led her into a room filled with racks of gleaming saddles and neatly hung bridles with shiny bits, all overlaid by the rich smell of leather polish. Handing her his champagne glass, he flipped open a trunk and pulled out a couple of burgundy horse blankets. “This is where they keep the clean ones,” he said, a glint of humor in his eyes.
He seemed to have recovered from his sister’s mention of Petra, much to Kyra’s relief. Strolling back through the stable yard, she inhaled deeply and looked around with avid attention. She didn’t belong here, would never belong here, but she wanted to remember it as vividly as she could.
“No wonder Schuyler likes the stables,” she said.
“It was her escape when the parental pressure got too overwhelming,” Will said. “Jump on a horse and ride away from it.”
“Did you try to sail away from it?”
He shook his head. “My heart wasn’t in sailing. My escape was books. Mostly my parents were impressed with my reading, which meant I could do so with impunity.”
“You were lucky. My parents thought I was wasting my time reading Victorian novels.”
Will put down the champagne bottle and shook out the horse blankets, settling them over a mound of loose hay. “That’s why I chose the Greek and Roman classics; I could claim I was prepping for readingthem in Latin, so Dad left me alone.” He held out his hand. “Have a seat.”
