 bad enough she had to work with him in the afternoons, when the onslaught of riding lessons descended on the barn. Did he have to come down and bother her before breakfast, too, when hardly anyone was around and she could just soak up the beauty of one of Catoctin Creek’s most beautiful farms? She was lucky to live here, lucky to be back in her hometown, lucky to be manager of this gorgeous equestrian center…so it would nice if she could just enjoy a moment of downtime without Sean once in a while.
“What do you want?” she asked, working to keep her impatience from her tone.
“The ponies?” Sean said, looking down at her. “They’re very cute.”
“The ponies are magnificent,” she retorted sharply, because calling Elmwood’s priceless pony herd cute failed to take into account how majestic, how elegant, how sought-after these ponies were in the upper echelons of the horse show market. For decades, Elmwood ponies had taken pigtailed girls and serious-faced boys to championships, their pricked ears and soft dark eyes emanating professionalism as they jumped around manicured courses, laying their polished hooves into the soft footing just so. Elmwood ponies were many things, cute included, but she wasn’t going to let Sean Casey get away with demeaning them with just one word of praise. They deserved dozens. “These ponies are way more than cute, Sean. Open up your eyes.”
She glanced sidelong at him as she spoke, unable to resist taking in the view through her thick lashes. And it was a good view, as always. Sean was blessed with the looks of a Swedish prince. Or so Nadine had heard. Nikki down at the Blue Plate Diner had once told her Sean looked like a Nordic male model, and that was the source of all his problems in life.
Nadine had found it hard to sympathize. Her pale skin didn’t win her any marks in the beauty department, especially paired with her wispy black hair that had to be pounded into submission with a round brush and an elastic band every morning, lest it puff up from her ponytail and get in her eyes while she was leading horses or mucking stalls. She had good green eyes, dark as forest leaves in midsummer, but no one else noticed them enough to remark on them, so she supposed it was probably just a personal preference, her own little vanity. Sean’s eyes were a particularly shimmering ice-blue. Not that she ever looked at them, and—
He was grinning at her.
Grinning at her? He ought to be frowning at her. Why couldn’t he just wake up and realize when she was insulting him? So frustrating. It was so difficult to throw Sean off his game. He was cheerful, chipper even, through the most challenging days on the farm. Even when their boss, Caitlin was being her usual chaotic self, Sean just carried on as if she wasn’t making them crazy at all…
“I know they’re good ponies, Nadine,” he replied now, his voice amused. “I rode an Elmwood pony when I was a little kid, you know. Elmwood Bowtie. She was a leadline champion at Devon.”
She hadn’t known that. If she had, she would have hated him a lot more by now—something Nadine didn’t even think was possible. Because oh boy, did she hate Sean Casey. Even if hate was a strong word, as her mother used to chide. Fine, Mom. She couldn’t stand him. Did that get across the point?
Such a lying snake. Lying, flirtatious, cheap, lazy, good-for-nothing—just like every other man Nadine had been forced to work with. Ten long years of trying to make a career for herself as a professional horsewoman, and when she finally had the plum spot she’d always wanted, her boss had to go and hire Sean.
“You did not have an Elmwood pony,” she huffed, turning her back on him and the landscape behind her. She hated to leave behind the galloping ponies, the flower-soaked breeze, but it was time to head back into the barn. Time to work. Anyway, the first blush of the beautiful morning had passed. There were high, icy clouds taking over the blue sky, and that lushly floral wind was growing a bit stiffer, too. There was a cold note to it which gave her the shivers. “Stop lying about your ponies. I’m going in to work on stalls.”
“I’ll help you.” Sean tripped after her, taking care that his polished black field boots found all the dry spots in the muddy parking lot. “I have nothing else going on this morning. Just a couple horses to ride this afternoon before lessons.”
Nadine kept her eyes resolutely forward. The big barn complex, with its double aisles and massive indoor arena attached at one end, loomed in front of them like an airplane hanger. “I have Richie and Rose to help me,” she reminded him. “Three people’s plenty to get stalls cleaned. Go do something else. Go polish your saddle.”
“Three’s plenty. Four’s even better. Just let me get out of these boots.”
She eyed his beautiful riding boots. Nadine was deeply covetous of those boots, which Sean kept in perfect condition even when the rest of his tack could sometimes fall into deplorable condition. She knew it was his best pair, not his everyday boots. “Why are you even wearing your good boots out here?”
“I was going to ride the new horse first thing this morning, and Caitlin was coming to watch with the owner. You know she likes to see me turned out all polished for clients. But it turns out he isn’t coming until this afternoon, so there won’t be time to ride him. All dressed up for nothing.”
“Oh, right. Rosemary’s horse. I’d literally forgotten about it.” Yesterday, Nadine had prepped the last empty stall in the back aisle for Rosemary Brunner’s incoming sales horse. Then a million other things had happened, in the course of a normal barn afternoon, and the new horse was crowded out of her brain. “Caitlin shouldn’t have asked you to ride him as soon as he arrived, anyway. He should have time to settle in. I wouldn’t ride him before Wednesday, at the earliest.” Today was Monday; two days would be plenty of time.
Sean shrugged. “Caitlin said Rosemary wants him sold quickly, so the sooner I know what we’re dealing with, the better. He could be very green, y’know? Rosemary gets her horses from auctions, so he doesn’t come with any history.”
“That’s an even better reason not to push the poor horse.” Nadine stopped in the barn entrance and peered down the front aisle, wondering if Richie and Rose, the grooms, had started mucking out yet. The big barn took several hours of hard work to clean each morning. They always started on the front aisle—so-called because it was the main barn aisle, lined with stalls housing the boarders, the paying customers. The “back aisle” was a little shorter and less trafficked, home to the farm horses and ponies, and dead-ending into storage below Nadine’s apartment, while the front aisle led directly to the indoor arena, the barn offices, and the tack rooms.
She narrowed her eyes at the condition of her barn. The front aisle was a mess this morning. Blankets needed rehanging on their bars—Nadine liked them hung with hospital-like precision in perfect rectangles, their buckles tucked away out of sight—and that lovely spring wind had scattered hay everywhere. A bit of a mess while cleaning stalls was acceptable, but this was beyond normal limits. If Caitlin came down before they’d finished morning chores, she’d have a mini-meltdown. Nadine decided to ask Richie to use the leaf-blower to clear the aisle before they did stalls, while she fixed the blankets.
Assuming Sean went away. Why was he still hovering alongside her? Barn work wasn’t his problem. He rode horses and taught riding lessons, and right now he didn’t need to do either. Instead, he was still bleating at her about the new horse. The one who wasn’t even here yet.
“I’m not going to push the horse, Nadine. Maybe have a little faith in me? Have I been hard on any of the other horses I’ve trained here?
Maybe he hadn’t, but none of those horses had been challenges. Nadine knew tough horses, but she wasn’t so sure Sean did. He rode with a stiff, elegant posture which told her he was more about theory than practice—more about looking pretty than riding effectively. Just the opposite of Nadine, as he was in every way imaginable. She sighed and turned back to him. “I’m just saying, you don’t even know this horse. He could have been bouncing from barn to barn for months. He might be tired and miserable.”
Sean raised a lazy eyebrow at her. “It’s touching to see what faith you have in me. Nadine. I promise to be good to this tired, miserable, pathetic horse-tragedy you’ve built up in your mind. But, I still have to