Sinclair at the back door leading out of the kitchen toward the greenhouses and stables beyond. I had changed into a pair of jeans, a heavy sweater, and my sturdiest boots. Over that, I put the cozy red parka and mittens I had found in the closet in the foyer earlier in the day. She burst into the room in full western riding gear—chaps, boots, leather duster, cowboy hat, and all, over a thick woolen sweater and pants. I stifled a grin. “Oh, come on, darling.” She laughed at me. “You didn’t think I’d show up with a riding crop and helmet, did you?” I shook my head and let the grin loose. “You are full of surprises, Mrs. Sinclair.” She pinched my arm as she walked past me. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Now, my dear, it’s on to the horses!” We skimmed through the dusting of new snow down the pathway to the stables. Inside a fenced pasture, I saw a man of about my age tightening a saddle on one of two horses, both a deep shade of auburn with black manes and tails.
