Paul leaned down to give Julia a quick peck on the cheek. “Watch yourself.” He strode out into the sunlight while Julia cupped her palm over the place his lips had touched her skin.
“That Paul,” Sharon said. “He’s a pip.”
“He told me Claire has a whisper horse here.” Julia jogged to keep up with Sharon’s long-legged pace. “Could I meet her?”
“Sure, her stall’s right across from Darkside’s. I was hoping some of her calm might rub off on him.” Sharon walked back down the barn’s center corridor. Darkside’s cage was closed, but opposite his door a beautiful bay horse with a black mane poked her head over the door labeled “Willow.”
“When she arrived Willow was skin and bones and could barely hold up her head,” Sharon said, feeding the horse a carrot. “Now she looks like the Thoroughbred she is. I even use her to start off little kids with riding. They see her and all their fear just evaporates. When you think she’d be dead if two people hadn’t spent a lot of love on her…” Sharon shook her head.
Julia stroked the mare’s nose, admiring the delicate shape of her head. She found herself gazing into Willow’s eyes, deep, velvety wells filled with a spirit of kindness and compassion. As sweet as she looked, Julia felt no urge to talk to the horse. “So how does this whisper horse thing work?”
“It just does.” Sharon gave Willow a pat and headed back to her office, with Julia following. “You’ll know when you find the right horse to talk to.”
Julia picked up her tote bag, thinking of Darkside. She didn’t want to tell him things, either. She felt as though it was the other way around: he had something to say to her. After all, he’d already tried to grab her attention. “I’ll get out of your hair now, and do some sketching.”
Julia walked out of the office, closing her eyes as she drew in the smell of sweet, fresh hay and big, warm animals. She lost herself in the distinctive music of the stable: loud huffs of breath, the clomp of weighted hooves, buckles rattling against water buckets.
“You okay, ma’am?”
Julia’s eyes flew open to find a lanky young man standing in front of her with a confused expression on his face. Had she had an absence seizure? Her epilepsy hadn’t taken the form of blank staring in the past, but maybe her encounter with Darkside had triggered it. “Have I been standing here a long time?”
“No, ma’am,” he said, looking puzzled.
“Were my eyes open?”
“Not till just now.”
Relief flooded through her. He simply wasn’t used to people standing and doing nothing in a barn. “I was enjoying the atmosphere.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a tentative smile and continued on with the sack of feed he was carrying.
She gripped the handles of her tote bag as she waited for the flare of anxiety to dissipate. It had been seven years since her last seizure, including the two years since she’d taken her final dose of medication, but she couldn’t shake off the sense of dread.
At least there was one fear she could face head-on. She spun on her heel and headed back for the barn where Darkside was stabled. As she stepped outside, her attention was caught by a sudden commotion just inside the other stable’s door. Darkside exploded out into the sunlight, his black coat gleaming like watered silk in the sun, his muscles bunched in resistance. The stallion had a groom on each side of his head, the lead lines taut in their hands as they leaned their weight against his plunging.
“Vader warning!” one of the grooms called out. “Evil Jedi coming through.”
Julia caught her breath as people and horses scattered while the magnificently foul-tempered animal practically dragged his handlers across the pine bark to a paddock gate. A third stable hand swung the gate open, then latched it behind the stallion. The two grooms counted to three, unhooked their lead lines simultaneously, and bolted for the fence as Darkside bucked twice before he came after them with ears laid back flat against his neck. They slipped safely between the rails just as the stallion snapped at them.
“Better luck next time, Darth-side,” one groom said, good-humoredly flipping the bird at the frustrated horse.
The stallion gave an angry whinny and took off across the grass, half galloping and half bucking, his tail streaming out behind him like a banner of war.
Julia trotted over to the paddock fence and peered between the boards. She had seen him in her mind’s eye so often, but in the flesh, he was both more and less disturbing than her imaginary Night Mare. The sense of physical power was heightened, but she felt drawn to him rather than afraid.