Country Roads(27)

“No, I mean you can trust me as one human being to another.”

She swallowed a couple of times. “That helps.”

“We’re here,” he said, aiming the car between two handsome brick pillars with wrought-iron lamps atop them. On one pillar, a white sign with simple green block letters read “Healing Springs Stables.”

“Sharon’s a world-class equestrian,” Paul said. “People send their horses from all over to train here. Which is why we keep her whole whisper horse idea sort of quiet.”

“Horse whispering is considered perfectly legitimate nowadays,” Julia pointed out.

“Yes, but this whispering goes from horse to human.” They rumbled up a gravel road between immaculately painted white fences. On either side rolling fields were dotted with grazing horses. He neatly slotted the ’Vette in between a green pickup truck and a silver Mercedes SUV. Julia got out, taking with her the recently purchased tote bag containing her sketchpad and pencils. She’d also brought a point-and-shoot camera to capture colors.

And the colors were spectacular. Redbrick barns with bright-white trim. All the varied greens and blues of row after row of mountain ranges receding into the distance. The gloss of horses’ coats in every shade from dapple-gray to darkest bay. Even the stable hands contributed to the display, sporting multihued T-shirts that cheered on the WVU Mountaineers or announced the West Virginia State Fair was “bigger and better.”

Taking it all in, her fingers twitched with impatience as she followed Paul into the dimness of one of the barns. It felt good to be back with her favorite subjects, like coming home.

“Hey, Taggart, out of my way! You wouldn’t want any of this on that pretty suit of yours,” a stable hand with a blonde ponytail ribbed as she pushed a wheelbarrow of manure past them. “Sharon’s in the office, if that’s who you’re looking for.”

“Thanks, Lynnie. Good to see you!” Paul said in his smooth ex-mayoral way.

The young woman paused. “Hey, did Eric get his horsemanship badge?”

Every angle in Paul’s face seemed to soften as a grin of pride spread across it. “He sure did get that badge, thanks to you. He was the youngest scout in his pack to earn it. In fact, they had to make a special exception to give it to him because he’s only ten.”

“I’ve never seen a kid so determined to do everything on that list of requirements as fast as he could.” Lynnie gave the wheelbarrow a nudge to set it in motion again. “He’s something.”

“That’s Eric, all right. When he gets an idea in his head, he’s unstoppable.” Paul’s grin remained as he led Julia toward the other end of the wide corridor between the stalls.

“Who’s Eric?”

“My nephew.”

This facet of Paul was unexpected. He seemed so much the urbane man-about-town; she couldn’t picture him enjoying an “unstoppable” ten-year-old boy. Yet his expression said he adored the kid. “I didn’t know you had a nephew.”

“He’s my brother’s son.” His smile vanished, and she wondered what she’d said to wipe it away. “Here we are,” Paul said, pushing open a door and waving her through. “Sharon, meet Julia Castillo, your favorite horse painter.”

Julia hesitated a moment, feeling shy. Paul gave her an encouraging smile. She stuck her head in to find a red-haired woman sitting with her booted feet propped up on her desk, drinking a diet soda. As Julia came in, Sharon brought her boots down to the floor and stood up, saying, “Well, I’ll be. Claire’s artist is right here in Sanctuary. Real nice to meet you.”

She held out her hand, but Julia was staring, wide-eyed. Sharon looked like a flame-haired Amazon warrior princess. Every inch of six feet, she was solid muscle from the biceps swelling under her polo shirt’s sleeves to the cut of her thighs under the snug riding breeches.

Paul gave Julia’s elbow a little nudge, making her start and hold out her hand.

Sharon gripped it enthusiastically, saying, “You sure know how to make a horse look like a horse.”

Unease speared through Julia. “You may not like my new paintings, then.”

“If Claire likes ’em, I figure they’re darn good. Have a seat.” Sharon sat back down in her desk chair as Paul and Julia took the two wooden chairs across from her. “So you want to use some of my horses as models?”

“I’d love to,” Julia said, “but I also want to meet Blake the farrier. I like his sculptures.”

“Oh, so you want to talk artist-to-artist like.” The horsewoman consulted a computer sitting on the desk. “He’s due here on Tuesday.”