All the King's Horses Read Online Free PDF

God, Dustin, if you tell me not to walk them through a field full of prairie dog holes or something, you’re going to be pulling that hat out of your ass.
    Fortunately for both of us, he just gestured toward the barn. “Let’s head back down, then, and I’ll show you where all the show gear is. All of that needs to be cleaned before the next competition.” He glanced at me. “You know how to clean tack?”
    I didn’t want to dignify that with a response, but to be fair, I’d given him no reason to assume I knew a cinch from a stirrup, so I calmly said, “Yes, I do.”
    The more we walked and talked, the more I regretted my decision to come here. He’d been friendly and pleasant at first, and then abruptly shifted to cold and terse for no reason I could discern. Nice one minute, then playful with the babies, and then, out of nowhere, there was an icy wall between us.
    I didn’t need that. I’d had my fill and then some of volatile Jekyll-and-Hyde types. There was no way I could work for one.
    So as we walked, I put a few extra inches of distance between us. Overreacting, maybe, but it just seemed safer that way. Especially as he showed me through the barn, and I swore to God Dustin got colder every time he introduced me to another horse. Like I needed that on top of reminder after reminder that I had become so disconnected from the animals that had been, as long as I could remember, my passion.
    He sharply warned me away from Chip, one of the abuse cases that had apparently lived here awhile. That conversation in itself was weird. Dustin started out with, “You’ll want to be careful around this one” and by the end of the short discussion, he’d switched to, “Stay away from this one.”
    Probably just as well. If it was possible for numbness to hurt, and on some level I think it did, it was worse when we stood in front of Chip’s stall. That horse had been through hell. Another mistreated Tennessee Walker from the same farm that had left Blue a terrified mess. And good lord, if there was anything I could relate to anymore, it was the feeling of being scared and powerless and always on edge, waiting for a Sword of Damocles to fall. Just like a skittish horse. Just like Blue, just like Chip.
    And yet, looking across the stall door at the bright red chestnut as he pinned his ears and tried to look menacing even as his knees shook, I felt nothing . Sympathy, yes, but beyond that, just deep, resonating numbness that made me wonder if I’d ever connect to anything again, human or animal.
    It was an unsettling feeling. A feeling of unfeeling, I supposed. So weird and so disturbing because that was not me. Never had been. And I was more than a little glad when Dustin decided it was time to move on to somewhere other than beside Chip’s stall.
    We had just stepped out of the barn when a woman who I assumed to be John’s wife stopped us.
    “You must be the new hire,” she said, her Texas accent softer than her husband’s.
    “Yeah.” I extended my hand. “Amy.”
    “Amy, I’m Gretchen.” She shook my hand, and her eyes twinkled as she added, “I’m this difficult one’s mother.”
    I glanced at Dustin. He chuckled and rolled his eyes, and that black cowboy hat didn’t hide the color blooming in his cheeks.
    “And how are you settling in, Amy?” Gretchen asked.
    “So far, so good,” I said. When your son isn’t going from pleasant to irritable for no apparent reason.
    “Good, good.” She gestured at the duplex. “By the way, the doors lock behind you, so make sure you’ve got your key with you whenever you leave. If you forget it”—she pointed at the other house—“I’ve got a spare.”
    “Good to know,” I said. “Thanks.”
    “Hey, Dustin!” John called from inside the barn. “Need to borrow you for a minute.”
    “God, what now?” Dustin grumbled. Then he turned to me. “Would you excuse me? I’ll be right back.”
    “Sure.”
    As he walked away, I couldn’t help relaxing a