Chapter 11The sun had disappeared behind the trees, leaving the stable in pools of shadow, the few outside security lights winking on and already attracting a wealth of flittering bugs. Westley led Hawthorne from the belly of the stable out into the cool dusk air. He should have been heading home. Right about now, on a normal night, he’d be making his way up the steps of the porch and stepping into their house, likely to be engulfed with tantalizing aromas of whatever Nicolaj brewed up for dinner.
But guilt gnawed at him.
Dog tags jingled as Danvers followed him.
He angled the stallion toward the outdoor arena, the sandy rectangle slightly larger than a regulation dressage arena. An alcove built into the side of the barn hosted jump standards, ground poles, and other various equipment r
