At the front of the stable Dugger could be heard unharnessing the horses.
At last Nash carried the pail in for Ruby, and together they watched the animal lower his head to the slop and eat.
“And he can have grass, too?” she asked.
“Hay, grass, alfalfa,” Nash said. “You can’t let him out in the pasture for a couple of weeks. His intake has to be moderate until he’s doing well with this.”
She met Nash’s eyes. “You sure know a lot about how to take care of him. I would have done it all wrong and caused him harm.”
Her comment flustered Nash, but he didn’t let on. “Tomorrow you can wash him down. Then treat those sores.”
“Thank you, Nash.”
He never knew what to say to her. He had trouble acknowledging her, accepting her presence... Looking at her square on, he found she was nothing like he’d imagined or expected. Ruby was unusual. Provoking at times. But she wasn’t a monster, and he hadn’t wanted to admit that. Still didn’t. He stepped out into the corridor between stalls. “You did the right thing.”
Her eyes widened.
He turned and went back to work.
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