In silence, they led the horses into the barn. The animal bodies
were lathered with sweat, and the fine layer of dust that covered
their muscles was beginning to dry and crinkle in the shadowed
coolness. She reached behind her head and unclipped her barrette,
allowing her hair to fall loosely over her shoulders. It was as
if everything had changed as they walked through a near-dark
silence, like day into night. Her senses sharpened, like those of
a nocturnal creature. She knew he was looking at her, and she
felt awkwardly exposed. She glanced quickly at him. His eyes
gazed at her with peaceful, deliberate regard. She maintained her
lead into the barn with Mighty Boy, then Jean-Pierre stopped at
his own horse's stall, and she hastened her task at hand, in an
attempt to be done and out of the stall before he had a chance to
come to hers. But as she worked with Mighty Boy's halter, she
felt his presence at the entrance of the stall. He pulled the
double door shut behind him as he entered, closing them in
together in nearly complete darkness.
Her insides tightened as he slowly approached, the very act of
breathing becoming more difficult the closer he came. She blinked
to adjust her vision, and busied herself with releasing the girth
of Mighty Boy's saddle, but she was clearly having problems; she
had not thought to simply put down the flower for a moment while
she worked with the snaps.
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