Dinah was right and Flynn should give Ace another chance. Each of the Hart children bore scars thanks to their father’s actions.
Was Flynn any different? Her own mother’s abandonment had damaged her every bit as much as John Hart’s betrayal did Ace.
No wonder her and Ace’s relationship was such a mess.
* * *
“ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THIS?” Ace’s mother asked, trepidation lending an unevenness to her voice.
“I don’t think we have a choice,” he answered. “We need to know one way or the other if we can use him, and we need to know before breeding season is in full swing.”
Yesterday, Midnight had been moved from the pens at Ace’s clinic to his permanent location in the stud quarters. His spacious stall opened out into a paddock. From there, he could see horses grazing in the near pastures and cattle in the far ones.
Gracie had been assigned the task of exercising Midnight an hour or more every day in the round pen. For some reason, he tolerated her better than Ace or any of the other ranch hands, allowing her to lead him to the pen and put him through his paces.
It was a development Ace found interesting and relevant. More than ever, he was convinced Midnight had been treated poorly at the hands of the livestock foreman and, as a result, distrusted people. Men in particular. Rehabilitating the horse, if he was indeed capable of being rehabilitated, would require time and patience and careful strategy.
A woman handler might provide the key.
Ace preferred not to isolate Midnight from his brethren. Horses were normally social animals. But until he could be handled without worry, they were better off safe than sorry.
There was, however, one exception.
Midnight was being put to the test for the first time.
Ace and his mother waited in the breeding shed for Gracie to retrieve Midnight from his quarters, connected to the breeding shed by a corridor. Ace had designed the facility himself as well as developing the stringent guidelines for their breeding program. An established routine and contained environment were both essential components of that program.
“How’s Flynn?” His mother asked the question daily.
“Working too hard.”
“At the clinic?”
“And for her dad. I wish she’d take it easier.”
“Flynn’s always been a go-getter. Has she had any luck enrolling in nursing school?”
“Not that she’s mentioned.”
After their disagreement last week, Ace and Flynn were back to communicating mostly by phone. He didn’t pressure her, but she could only put him off so long. Her next doctor’s appointment was in less than two weeks, and he would be there with her.
“Do you think she and Earl would come to Sunday brunch if I invited them?”
“You can ask.” Ace liked the suggestion. Refusing his mother would be much harder than refusing him.
“She still resisting your charms?”
“Hard to believe, I know.”
“Not that it’s my business, but has it occurred to you that marrying her might not be the best idea?”
“What? I thought you were gung ho about all us kids being married first.”
“That would be best, ideally. But I’m concerned if you somehow convince Flynn to marry you, you’ll wind up alienating her.”
“I’ve already promised her I’d try and cut back on work.”
“I’m not talking about work. I’m talking about love. Flynn is a romantic. She isn’t interested in marrying because it makes sense or is the right thing to do.”
Ace was still digesting what his mother said when a loud banging came from the direction of Midnight’s quarters.
“Everything okay?” Ace hollered.
“We’re good.” Gracie’s confident reply carried down the corridor.
“Aidan,” his mother said. “She needs help.”
“Gracie knows what she’s doing.”
Like him, his mother was nervous.
He debated going to investigate, prepared to step in at the first sign of trouble. But he’d rather not agitate Midnight if at all possible. They had a lot riding on today’s outcome.
After double-checking Miss Kitty’s lead rope, he craned his head to peer down the corridor.
What was the holdup?
He absently patted the mare, a rangy bay that had once been part of Wally Dunlap’s string. She flicked her ears, her only sign of anticipation. None of this was new to her, she’d already borne two foals by Midnight. She was also fully in heat and receptive.
All things considered, she made a perfect candidate.
It was Ace’s hope Midnight would get the job done without a fuss and without caring who else was in the breeding area with him.
A clattering of hooves on the concrete floor accompanied a high-pitched squeal. Midnight and Gracie promptly burst into the breeding shed, a whirlwind of raw energy.
“Easy now.” She gripped the stud chain firmly in both hands, but the horse was clearly in the driver’s seat.
The instant Midnight spied Miss Kitty, he dialed into her. Prancing, snorting, his nostrils flaring, he showed off for her.
She did what came naturally, what her instincts dictated, and raised her tail.
Midnight went into a frenzy.
“Whoa, boy!” Gracie tugged, barely hung on.
Ace didn’t think, he reacted. “Mom, get back!” He pushed his mother aside, then grabbed the stud chain from Gracie’s hands.
Midnight tossed his head and ripped the chain from Ace’s grasp. He had only one thing on his mind: Miss Kitty.
“Watch out!” Ace motioned for Gracie to stay back. It was too dangerous intervening at this point. Better to let nature take its course and hope for the best.
It was over within a minute. Midnight abandoned Miss Kitty, his interest waned.
When Ace reached for the stud chain, the horse did an about-face. Huffing, he raced back down the corridor to his quarters.
Gracie started after him.
“Leave him,” Ace ordered, angry at himself more than the horse. “He can’t go anywhere.” He turned to his mother. “You all right?”
She
