and one that could fortunately be explained as a shortened version of her name. Only her mother called her Alyson and would have loved her, Aly knew, if she had not proved to be a book too complicated to read. In time she was set aside and rarely picked up again. Aly watched as her mother turned her time, energy, and hopes to her other, less provocative children. But her father, a perceptive, astute man, was a different matter. As Aly drove out to Cedar Hill, she was thinking that he read her with perfect understanding and disapproved of the text.
Chapter Five
A ll right, young lady, I’ve assigned you to Joe Handlin here. He’s our stable manager, and you’ll be taking your orders from him.” Matt Taylor indicated a tall, rangy young man Aly guessed to be in his early twenties. He also looked vaguely familiar. His hair—what could be seen of it below a battered cap bearing the logo of Green Meadows—was the reddish brown hue of the large round freckles dotting his friendly countenance. “Joe, this is Aly Kingston. She’s taking Benjy’s place, as I told you. You’re supposed to teach her everything you know about running the stables.”
The other eight members of the staff, gathered for a quick Monday meeting in Matt’s office, looked on in amusement as Joe stuck out a large, freckled hand. “Lord have mercy, Matt—in just a week?”
Aly looked puzzled. “A week? Are you going somewhere?”
“No, but you are.” Joe grinned amicably. The eyes, Aly could see, were not friendly at all. “I figure a week of the kind of work you’ll be doing will just about do it before we see the last of you and that little sports car out there.”
So that was it, thought Aly in quick understanding. She glanced quickly at Matt, wondering if he had apprised his manager of their bargain. Reading her query, the breeder shook his head almost imperceptibly. Aly withdrew her hand and gave Joe an unperturbed smile. “Don’t place any bets on it,” she said.
The meeting over, Aly followed Joe out to the large complex of stables and listened carefully as he explained her main responsibilities. She had already gathered from Matt’s briefing that the busiest time of the breeding season was over and now the staff was mainly engaged in taking care of the pregnant mares, supervising the foaling, and caring for the newborns.
“You can rest easy if you’re worried about having anything to do with the breeding operation,” Joe explained. “That’s left for the experienced horsemen. What you’ll be doing is mucking out stalls, grooming, watering, and feeding the horses. It’s a full-time, never-ending job, with no glory to it and little reward except knowing that the finest four-legged creatures on God’s earth have good food, fresh water, and clean stalls. If I ever find a horse in your care lacking any of the three, you can bet I’ll ask Matt to can you. Benjy may be a drunk, but I could count on his affection for horses. I don’t know that I can yours. Matt tells me you barely know one end of a horse from the other. That so, Miss Kingston?”
“That’s so, Joe,” Aly puffed, nearly having to run to keep up with him. “But I’m a fast learner and a hard worker. Please call me Aly.”
“I call only my friends by their first names, Miss Kingston.” Joe pushed open both halves of a wide Dutch door and entered a large barn. Aly, her cheeks warm from the rebuff, followed Joe’s rangy figure down an immaculate concrete corridor to a small glass-enclosed office on the right. Joe stepped inside and pushed a button. Instantly soft music flooded the barn and equine heads began to appear over the tops of stall doors.
“Horses like music,” he explained, going back to the first stall. The quarterhorse inside was wide awake and happy to see Joe. She nuzzled Joe’s shirt pocket as he slid his hand along the well-muscled neck. “Don’t have no sugar for you this morning, sweetheart,” he said. “I brought you something
Chapter Five
A ll right, young lady, I’ve assigned you to Joe Handlin here. He’s our stable manager, and you’ll be taking your orders from him.” Matt Taylor indicated a tall, rangy young man Aly guessed to be in his early twenties. He also looked vaguely familiar. His hair—what could be seen of it below a battered cap bearing the logo of Green Meadows—was the reddish brown hue of the large round freckles dotting his friendly countenance. “Joe, this is Aly Kingston. She’s taking Benjy’s place, as I told you. You’re supposed to teach her everything you know about running the stables.”
The other eight members of the staff, gathered for a quick Monday meeting in Matt’s office, looked on in amusement as Joe stuck out a large, freckled hand. “Lord have mercy, Matt—in just a week?”
Aly looked puzzled. “A week? Are you going somewhere?”
“No, but you are.” Joe grinned amicably. The eyes, Aly could see, were not friendly at all. “I figure a week of the kind of work you’ll be doing will just about do it before we see the last of you and that little sports car out there.”
So that was it, thought Aly in quick understanding. She glanced quickly at Matt, wondering if he had apprised his manager of their bargain. Reading her query, the breeder shook his head almost imperceptibly. Aly withdrew her hand and gave Joe an unperturbed smile. “Don’t place any bets on it,” she said.
The meeting over, Aly followed Joe out to the large complex of stables and listened carefully as he explained her main responsibilities. She had already gathered from Matt’s briefing that the busiest time of the breeding season was over and now the staff was mainly engaged in taking care of the pregnant mares, supervising the foaling, and caring for the newborns.
“You can rest easy if you’re worried about having anything to do with the breeding operation,” Joe explained. “That’s left for the experienced horsemen. What you’ll be doing is mucking out stalls, grooming, watering, and feeding the horses. It’s a full-time, never-ending job, with no glory to it and little reward except knowing that the finest four-legged creatures on God’s earth have good food, fresh water, and clean stalls. If I ever find a horse in your care lacking any of the three, you can bet I’ll ask Matt to can you. Benjy may be a drunk, but I could count on his affection for horses. I don’t know that I can yours. Matt tells me you barely know one end of a horse from the other. That so, Miss Kingston?”
“That’s so, Joe,” Aly puffed, nearly having to run to keep up with him. “But I’m a fast learner and a hard worker. Please call me Aly.”
“I call only my friends by their first names, Miss Kingston.” Joe pushed open both halves of a wide Dutch door and entered a large barn. Aly, her cheeks warm from the rebuff, followed Joe’s rangy figure down an immaculate concrete corridor to a small glass-enclosed office on the right. Joe stepped inside and pushed a button. Instantly soft music flooded the barn and equine heads began to appear over the tops of stall doors.
“Horses like music,” he explained, going back to the first stall. The quarterhorse inside was wide awake and happy to see Joe. She nuzzled Joe’s shirt pocket as he slid his hand along the well-muscled neck. “Don’t have no sugar for you this morning, sweetheart,” he said. “I brought you something
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