Wed By A Will. Cara Colter

fall down on top of him,” she said, watching Donahue struggle with a rusted latch on a stall gate.

      He gave her a look that said he hoped it did. He installed the donkey in the pen, stepped back and relatched the gate.

      “Do you have any feed for him?”

      She contemplated that for a moment. Feed for him. A hint might have been nice. Couldn’t she just go pick some of that grass and throw it in here? Donahue read her mind.

      “You don’t even know what he eats, do you?” he asked, the softness of his tone not even beginning to hide his impatience.

      “I’ll go to the library and find out,” she said proudly.

      “That sounds a lot easier than just asking,” he said sardonically.

      She fought with her pride briefly then gave in with ill grace. “Okay. What does he eat?”

      “He’ll need hay, until you can get him on the grass. A couple of bales. And if you plan to build him up, he should probably have oats. Though,” he frowned, “that might make him all the more eager to get after my mares.”

      “All right. I’ll go get a couple of bales of hay, then, and some oats.”

      He glanced at his watch, and sighed. “Well, not today you won’t. Feed store closed at five. You couldn’t get hay there, anyway. You don’t generally buy hay by the bale. You buy it by the ton.”

      The donkey let out an outraged bray that made the walls shake and made her worry the barn was going to come down around them.

      “He’ll need water right away. Don’t go in there with him, you hear?”

      The donkey chose that moment to lunge at the gate, so she decided not to argue with Donahue on the issue of entering the pen, even though she did not like the bossy tone of that you hear? She nodded stiffly.

      “I’ll bring by some straw for his bedding and enough hay to get you through a few days until I can have a look at those fences.” He glanced at his watch, and she caught a glimpse of weariness as he tried to figure out where to fit her into his day. “I’ll try to come around by eight or nine.”

      She wanted desperately to tell him that wasn’t necessary, that she would look after it herself. But the truth was, it was necessary. Her donkey could not wait on a point of pride. He looked like he might perish if he did not get the right kind of attention soon.

      She didn’t know a single soul who would know the first thing about giving a donkey the proper kind of care. Certainly her sisters would not. And their husbands were a lawyer and an ex-cop. Somehow that seemed far removed from donkey land.

      “I’ll pay you,” she said proudly.

      “Whatever.” He stood regarding her for a moment, and then with a small shake of his head, he strode by her and was gone.

      His scent lingered in her nostrils for a long, long time.

      She went and put her hand cautiously over the gate to the stall, hoping the donkey would touch her fingers again with his muzzle and prove to her she had done the right thing.

      But the donkey rolled his eyes at her, and stayed squished as tight against the back wall of his new home as he could go.

      “I know all about that feeling,” she said, and she smiled, knowing she had done just the right thing after all.