“I couldn’t even tempt him with a potato, his favorite.”
“He’s not sweating,” she added. “Has he been rolling around on the floor?”
“No. Just barely touched his feed.”
“Indigestion.” Which, it occurred to her, Boyle would’ve thought of himself. But now there they were, the two of them in the stall together, close, arms brushing now and then as they stroked the horse.
“I think I can take care of it, if you trust me to.”
“I would, and more, he would. He’s not fond of the vet for all that. And if indigestion it is, we can always dose him. But he’s not in favor of that overly either.”
“Let’s see if we can avoid it. Would you hold his head?”
As Boyle moved to do so, she crouched down, hands sliding, gliding over Spud’s belly. “It aches,” she said quietly. “So hard to understand the hurt. You’ve been eating too fast, that’s all. Slow down and enjoy it more. Quiet now, quiet.”
Her stomach burned a moment as she drew the pain away, but she felt Spud’s relax under her touch. Heard his snort of relief.
“Better now, that’s better. And I bet you’re already starting to think about eating again.”
She rose, saw Boyle staring at her.
“You go to gleaming,” he told her. “It’s a dazzle.”
“It’s odd because it feels so calm now to do it. And with little hits like that I’m not immediately thinking about food myself. It wouldn’t hurt to put some of that homeopathic potion in his feed, just to cover the tracks.”
“Sure I’ll do that, and thanks for this. He’s a favorite around here as you know.” He continued to stand at Spud’s head, blocking the stable door. “So, are you faring well, Iona?”
“Yeah. Fine. You?”
“Oh, well and fine. Busier as you know with spring.”
“And summer follows.”
“And summer follows. We’re to meet again in another two days, to talk of that. I wondered if there was anything I could do for you in the meantime? If you wanted some time off so you could . . . do what you do at home, have more time to put into that.”
“Working here keeps me sane, I think. And balanced. The routine of it, and knowing I want that routine when this is over.”
“If ever you did need the time, you’ve only to tell me.”
“I will.”
“I could buy you a pint for the vet service after work—in a friendly way,” he added. “After the workday if you’ve a mind for it.”
He’d do the same for anyone, she reminded herself. But . . .
“I would, but Branna’s expecting me. She’s a brute just like Meara. We haven’t much time left before the solstice.”
“No, there’s not much left. It’s weighing on you.”
“Not being sure what I’ll need to do, what I’m meant to do weighs. Both Branna and Connor have blocked any thought of me going to the cabin ruins before the solstice. They seem to think I’ll pull more from it the very first time, and that may help.”
“You’d tell me if you . . . had more dreams or any encounter with him?”
“It’s been quiet. That weighs, too. He’s watching, you can feel it. But not too close.” She shuddered, rubbed her arms.
“I don’t mean to upset you talking of it.”
“It’s not the talking. It’s the waiting.”