18 August 2003 – Monday
Burkesville, Kentucky
Angellica leaned against the fence looking at a mare and her foal.
The foal is what interested her most; he was going to be her newest stud.
The Admiral.
His Sire was a 16.2 hand Purebred chestnut Quarter horse. His Mother was in the corral with him, and a beautiful Roan Mustang, with a small amount of Arab in her. She stood at 15 hands.
The Admiral was Chestnut and looked promising. He was born in the first week of April and now 4 months old and Angellica was getting ready to take him away from his mother. They stood together looking at her.
She knew she should be in there getting it done but her mind was elsewhere.
Living in the caravans while her house was being built was taking its toll. The shell of the house was complete and the roof nearly done. Soon they would be starting the interior. After living in the caravans for so long, she was desperate to have the house finished.
Nevertheless, her mind was still elsewhere.
Damien was at the caravans visiting his children.
He had been released 4 months before hand, out on good behaviour.
Angellica laughed to herself. He didn’t know the meaning of good behaviour.
They had been divorced within a month of him going back to jail, and she had changed her name back to McLloyd a week after getting the confirmation from Oliver.
Although, it wasn’t Damien that bothered her, it was the fact that he had brought Devlin along. He had also been released from prison, only a month after Damien.
Angellica could see the caravans from where she stood, they were sited about 100 metres from the corral. She could see Damien and Caelum, sitting at the picnic table talking.
Absently she wanted to go over there, just to check, but she knew she shouldn’t. She sighed heavily and turned away from them, back to The Admiral. He had moved away from his mother, to poke in the grain bin. The mustang, which she had never named, would go back into the main band next week, leaving The Admiral with Angellica.
“Brooding again?”
Angellica turned to look at Vince Blakemoore, her head horse master. His job consisted of keeping the stock horses fit and cared for. He dealt with the musterers, and the general day-to-day running of her farm. She smiled at him. “Yeah, I guess so.” She said.
Vince looked towards the caravans, “I think I can let you away with it.” He leaned against the railing and watched Damien.
Angellica didn’t look over her shoulder, she merely shrugged. “I appreciate that.”
Vince didn’t say anything. He just watched.
“Where’s Mike?” Angellica asked of her security guard.
Vince shrugged. “Not sure sorry.” He hooked the heel of his boot into the lowest rail and studied Angellica.
She didn’t look at him, she watched her foal.
“Jewel wanted to know when you wanted to take her back up the hills.” Vince asked looking at the mustang.
“Next few days. Will take her out of there later and get the foal settled.”
“No problem, I shall let her know.” Vince pushed away from the rail; he took a few steps away and stopped. He took his hat from his head and absently scratched before replacing it. He watched Angellica, then turned and walked away.
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