Months of the same.
Years.
He thought of Layla and the advice he’d given her. Man, the two of them were in the exact same place, weren’t they.
Closing his eyes, he was relieved when he started to drift. But he had a feeling any peacefulness he found wasn’t going to last long.
And he was right.
FORTY-TWO
At Tricounty Equine Hospital, Manny stood still while Glory snuffled around his scrubs, and knew he should probably leave her. But he found that he was unable to separate himself or Payne from the horse.
Time was running out for his Glory and it killed him. But he couldn’t very well leave her to waste away, growing thinner and more crippled with each passing day. She deserved so much better than that.
“You love her,” Payne said softly, her pale hand skimming across the Thoroughbred’s back and going down onto the hip.
“Yeah. I do.”
“She is very lucky.”
No, she was dying, and that was a curse.
He cleared his throat. “I guess we need to—”
“Dr. Manello?”
Manny leaned back and looked over the stall door. “Oh, hey, Doc. How’re you?”
As the head vet strode down to them, his tuxedo was as out of place as a pitchfork in an opera box. “I’m okay—and you’re clearly looking well.” The guy repositioned his bow tie. “The monkey suit is because I’m on my way home from the Met. I just had to stop and see your girl, though.”
Manny ducked out and offered his hand. “Me, too.”
As they shook, the vet glanced into the stall—and his eyes popped when he saw Payne. “Ah . . . hello.”
When Payne offered the man a small smile, the good doctor blinked like the sun had broken through a cloud bank and shone down upon him.
Okaaaaaaaaaay, Manny was so through with bastards staring at her like that.
Putting himself in the way, he said, “Is there any kind of suspension we could get her into? To relieve some pressure?”
“We’ve had her strapped for a couple of hours each day.” As the vet replied, he inched to the side until Manny had to follow with his torso to keep blocking the view. “I don’t want to run the risk of gastrointestinal or breathing problems.”
Bored with the tilting thing, and wanting to spare Payne where the conversation was heading, Manny took the guy’s arm and moved them off to the side. “What’s our next step?”
The vet rubbed his eyes as if to give his mind a second to unscramble. “To be honest, Dr. Manello, I don’t have a good feeling about where we are. That other hoof is foundering, and although I’ve been doing everything I can to treat it, it’s not responding.”
“There has to be something else.”
“I’m so damned sorry.”
“How long until we’re sure—”
“I’m sure now.” The man’s stare was positively grim. “That’s why I came in tonight—I was hoping for a miracle.”
Well, didn’t that make two of them.
“Why don’t I give you some time with her,” the vet said. “Take all you need.”