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Maybe that’s why she was banging the landscaper while I was away.
Because things weren’t exciting or romantic anymore.
Regardless, she clearly wasn’t the love of my life, but maybe I owe her the courtesy to say what’s on her mind.
“We don’t need to meet for you to apologize, Adriana. I’m here now and listening.”
“But I thought in person would be better.”
She thinks in person, she might talk me into forgiveness and taking her back. “Right now is just fine.”
“Oh… well, okay.” I can tell she’s flustered, that she wasn’t expecting to have my ear for very long. She sucks in a loud breath. “Kellen… I’m really so sorry for betraying you like that. I don’t even have a good excuse. You were so good to me, and we were so good together. I think maybe I was just lonely with you being in Pennsylvania, and—”
“Stop. You apologized, and I don’t need to hear excuses about loneliness. I was lonely, too, but I didn’t fuck around on you. Let’s just agree that you’ve apologized, and I’ve accepted it.”
“But maybe—”
“No maybes. Send me the paperwork for my attorney to look over, and I’ll be in touch.”
I should have anticipated the outburst, yet I’m still surprised by her rapid turnaround. She screeches, “God, you’re an asshole. I don’t know why I was ever with you to begin with. You can’t even give me an inch, can you? Well, fuck you, Kellen. I’m not paying you a damn dime.”
She continues on and on, and I listen as I navigate through downtown and onto I-79 to take me back to Washington. When she runs out of steam, I’m surprisingly chill. “If you refuse to pay me what you owe for the business, I’ll have the courts step in. They’ll dissolve our partnership, force you to sell the business, and pay me half of the proceeds. If that’s the way you want to handle things—”
The line goes dead.
Chuckling, I crank the music and bop along to Eminem. I stop at a sandwich shop in downtown Washington and grab three Italian subs and chips. I then make my way out to Cove Road, arriving at the clinic by one thirty.
There’s only one car in the small gravel lot, same one that was here when I brought Bubba in and picked him up. Presumably Christy’s, since I know Abby lives in the garage apartment at the main farmhouse.
I grab the food and head inside.
Christy is behind the desk, and her face lights up when she sees me. “Hi, Mr. McCord.”
“Hey.” I set the bag on the desk and pull out a sub and bag of chips. “Brought you and Abby lunch. And it’s Kellen, not Mr. McCord.”
“Oh gosh, this is so nice. Thank you.”
She takes the proffered food, and I nod toward the swinging door. “Abby back there?”
“Actually, she’s down at the paddock. She usually rides on her lunch hour.”
My eyebrows pull inward from confusion. “Paddock?”
“Yeah… Dr. Schoen has horses, and Abby boards her own here. She cares for all of them in exchange for the apartment.”
The riding part doesn’t surprise me—I know she comes from a horse family—but I didn’t realize Dr. Schoen had horses. It’s a huge property, though, and you can only see so much from the road or the clinic parking lot.
Christy throws a thumb over her shoulder. “There’s a path behind this building. It leads around those big rhododendrons and then you’ll see the barn. Go through the back and out the rear door, if you want.”
I don’t question Christy’s decision to let me wander freely around the building. I guess I’ve built up trust by running Levi Hellman off and being complicit in the stealing of his dog.
“Thanks.” I grab the bag with the rest of the food and head off in search of Abby.
CHAPTER 7
Abby
I’m wearing a sleeveless shirt with my jods, and I can feel my shoulders burning in the midday sun. So much for my mental note to put on sunscreen. And the riding ring isn’t close to a single tree that might provide some shaded relief.
This is actually good, though, as Lunar tends to spook when he sees dappled light on the ground. While it would take a lot to throw me from his back, I don’t feel like working hard today. These lunch break rides are for pleasure only. I’ve left my training days far behind.
It was an escape for me when I left Kentucky, running from family obligations and show expectations. When I left the complex world of saddlebreds, there was no way I could leave Lunar behind. He’s fifteen now, his showing days long over. He could’ve led a life of retirement luxury at Blackburn Farms, but he can have that same life here with me.
I don’t ride him every day, but the days I do, my world is infinitely better.