by Becki Willis
With a sigh, Hannah came forward. She knew enough about horses to steer clear of the stallion’s powerful hind legs. Even though he was gentle as a kitten, she was respectful of his strength. She leaned down beside Walker, who was crouched to support the horse’s bent leg.
“Look at this.”
Despite owning a prized retired racehorse by the tender age of seven—another of her Uncle JoeJoe’s outrageous gifts—Hannah still had much to learn about the equine world. She knew, however, that the hooves were not supposed to flare that way, or to have chips and splits along the jagged edges. The dark, oily substance oozing from the center of the hoof wasn’t normal, either.
She turned a worried face to the man beside her. “That’s not good, is it?”
As Walker shook his head, the farrier answered, “I’ve seen a lot worse. This is what happens when horses go too long without proper tending to.” There was a rebuke in his words.
“If you recall,” Walker said in a stern voice, his gaze pointed as he addressed the farrier, “you broke our last appointment. This could have been addressed weeks ago.”
Shelton shook off the criticism. “The important thing is, I’m here now. I’ll scoop out the dirt and mud surrounding the frog, this triangular space here in the middle of his hoof. That black, oily residue is a sign of thrush, a bacterial infection that is common enough, but can cause a horse to go lame if not tended to properly. It’s a good thing I’m here. I’ll keep that from happening.”
Hannah saw the spark of anger in Walker’s eyes and knew things could quickly spiral out of control. She didn’t know the history between these two men, but it obviously wasn’t good. She deftly steered the conversation another way. “So, you can fix it?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Shelton stood as he spoke, signaling the examination was over. “I don’t see signs of abscess, but I suggest not riding him for a few days while the thrush clears up.”
“But we have the trial ride coming up,” Hannah fretted. She didn’t want to endanger the horses, but she couldn’t afford to be short one on their first outing. “I need all the horses in it.”
“I can loan you a horse, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
She visibly brightened. “You could?”
“Sure,” the farrier grinned.
“That won’t be necessary,” the attorney ground out.
Both men spoke at once. Hannah’s blue eyes bounced between the two.
“I’d be happy to loan you a horse,” Shelton repeated.
“So will I,” Walker interjected. “I always loan my horses to the inn.”
“You do?” It was the first she heard of such.
His scowl deepened. “Fred knows the Rocking J supplies extra horses whenever you need them.”
Fred and Sadie Tanner were institutions here at The Spirits. The maiden pair had lived their entire lives here, right alongside Wilhelmina Hannah. When their friend and benefactor died and instructed the town auctioned to the highest bidder, the sisters stayed on to help the new owner. Thanks or no thanks to JoeJoe Duncan and his strange sense of birthday gifts, that owner was now Hannah. She was eternally grateful for the older women’s help and guidance. Without their wealth of knowledge and experience, she would be in over her head.
“She didn’t say anything,” Hannah murmured. “But good to know. Thanks.” She smiled up at the attorney, and for a moment, it was just the two of them.
It was there again, that sizzle of awareness. It flashed between them like lightning, kicking Hannah’s heart into overdrive and peppering her skin with gooseflesh. The spark of fire was inevitable whenever they were together, but Hannah did her best to ignore it. Though she tried to keep a professional distance between them—he was, as he so often pointed out, her attorney and executor of the convoluted estate in which she found herself embroiled—her traitorous mind couldn’t help but wonder what if.
What if he had kissed her that night by the pond? What if they explored this undeniable attraction between them? When her body and her heart piped in with their two cents on the subject, the possibilities were limitless. That was why ignoring the man was crucial. Impossible, but crucial.
As difficult as it was to do, Hannah turned away from the dark glimmer in his eyes and concentrated on the horse. Petting the velvety smooth coat, she struggled to keep her voice even. “So, the trail ride can go on?”
Shelton Long pushed up the brim of his battered cowboy hat and gave her a charming smile. “Well, we won’t let a little thing like being down one horse stop it, that’s for sure.”
The relief was obvious on her face. “And the other horses?” she asked after a quick reprieve. “Or is Willie Nelson the only one in such bad shape?”
She had quickly learned that Wilhelmina used a rather odd but effective system for naming her animals. The chickens were named after a children’s nursery rhyme, the cows bore the names of ice cream flavors, and the horses shared monikers with country music singers. Favorite literary and television characters inspired the goats’ names.
“Well, let’s take a look,” the farrier said. With a flirtatious wink, he offered his arm in gallant fashion.
The echoing snort didn’t come from the horse.
It came from the lawyer.
CHAPTER THREE
By the time Shelton Long folded his lanky body back inside his truck and waved goodbye, all Hannah’s horses were properly shoed, the farrier had none too subtly exchanged phone numbers with the innkeeper, a new spring appeared in Hannah’s step, and Walker wore a perpetual scowl.
Pretending not to notice, Hannah turned back toward the inn. “Thanks for setting that up. I feel better, knowing the horses are in good shape and ready to ride.”
“He backed out on me three weeks ago. I should have found someone else right then,” the lawyer grumbled.
“I think he was a good choice. I liked the way he handled the horses.”
“I just bet you did.” He gave extra care to patting Leroy, the shaggy Great Pyrenees that came with the property. Sometimes, Hannah resented the bond between the giant white dog and the lawyer, but the two were old friends. Even now, Walker showed warmer regard for the dog than he did for the woman.
Hannah whirled around, her blue eyes flashing. “And what is that muttered remark supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what I said. The two of you seemed to hit it right off.” The tone of his voice made it an accusation.
“He was very helpful, not to mention friendly. So yes, I guess we did hit it off.” Her chin jutted out stubbornly. “Just like I hit it off with Sadie and Fred, but you didn’t seem to mind that friendship so much.”
“It’s a bit early to call yourselves friends, don’t you think? You just met the man two hours ago.”
“Well, I do have his number,” she reminded him. She wasn’t sure why she taunted him, other than the fact his high-handed manner annoyed her. What did it matter to him who her friends were? “Maybe I’ll call him up and get to know him better, before I declare us friends.”
Walker all but growled in protest. “You don’t want to do that.”
Hannah propped her hands upon her hips and glared at him. “How on earth do you know what I want, Walker Jacoby? You barely know me, yourself. And you haven’t seen me in two weeks. You can’t possibly know who I do or do not want for a friend.”
He remained steadfast in his argument. “I’m telling you, you don’t want Shelton Long for a friend.”
“Give me three good reasons why not.”
“Because I know him, and you don’t. The man’s not what he first appears.”
“Few people ever are. And that’s two reasons, at best. Give me another.”
“Trust me on this, Hannah. You don’t want to get tangled up with Shelton Long.”
“Oh, come on, you can do better than that. Give me one good reason not to be friends with the man. A real reason.”
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
His tight-lipped response gave
her pause. “He’s a client?” That puzzled her, because the two men didn’t seem to care for each other.
“No.”
Which could explain the negative vibe radiating off the men like a bad smell. “You’ve brought litigation against him,” she guessed, making it more of a statement than a question.
“If that were the case—and I’m not saying it is—you know I wouldn’t be at liberty to discuss it with you. Just take my advice and steer clear of the man. He’s good with horses, but those skills don’t necessarily carry over to people.”
“Says Mr. Personality, himself.”
Muttering to herself, Hannah abruptly turned and stalked toward the inn. She kicked at a small rock in her path. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was jealous. But no, he’s not interested in a relationship. It wouldn’t be in my ‘best interest.’” Even when talking to herself, Hannah used air quotes to emphasize her sarcasm. “If he can’t give me a better reason than that, I may have to befriend Mr. Long, just to make Walker mad! It would serve him right. He may control my legal affairs—and yes, my money—but that doesn’t give him the right to control my personal life. I control that!”
She had worked up a nice little fury by the time she reached the back door. She had such momentum going, she almost hated seeing the shiny red ‘53 Cadillac pulling in behind her. It was difficult to maintain her bad mood with the Tanner sisters around.
“Was that Shelton Long we saw pulling out just now?” Sadie asked, crawling out in another of her colorful moo-moos.
“Yes, he came to trim the horses’ feet.”
“It’s about time! I told Sister that Willie Nelson’s feet were in bad shape,” Fred tsked. Popping the trunk of the fully restored convertible, she pulled out shopping bags.
In true Walker fashion, the man appeared in time to reach around the older woman. “Here. Let me get these for you.”
Without relinquishing the bags in her hand, she nodded her gray curls toward the others still in the trunk. “There’s enough to go around.”
Easily filling his arms with the bounty, Walker couldn’t resist teasing, “Did you ladies buy out the supermarket?”
Not for the first time, Hannah wondered why his teasing came so natural with the elderly sisters, when his manner toward her was often stilted and flat.
“Have to get ready for this weekend.” Sadie’s words were muffled as she pulled even more bags from the back seat. “We’ll get the main delivery from Sysco tomorrow.”
“You mean there’s more food coming?” Walker made a face of mock horror.
“You know how I love to cook.”
“That I do.”
Hannah scooped up the last two bags and hurried ahead to open the door. Walker brushed annoyingly close as he hefted his bulky load through the narrow opening. She held her breath, hoping not to get another whiff of his intoxicating cologne. She swore he had the stuff specially formulated to enhance his own unique body chemistry, just to drive her crazy.
The scent trailed behind him, luring Hannah into the kitchen on his heels.
“You should have heard the buzz in town today,” Sadie told Hannah as they worked together to stash the groceries. “Everyone is talking about the show.”
“And the Grand Opening,” her sister put in. “People are excited to have the inn back in business.”
“Even though I doubt any of them actually stay here themselves.” Hannah’s tone was rueful.
“No, but that doesn’t mean they don’t support it. They tell out-of-town friends and family about it—”
“—and they attend our special events.” The sisters had an uncanny habit of finishing each other’s sentences, as Sadie did now. “Don’t be surprised when they call to book meals here, too.”
This was the first Hannah had heard about the meals. A startled look crossed her face, like a deer caught in the headlights. “We—We have a café, and you’re just now telling me? Why haven’t you told me this before?” She was already composing a list in her mind, of things she would need to get. Menus and wait staff, just to start.
“Not a café,” Sadie assured her.
“But Sister is such a fine cook, everyone loves her food. We take a limited number of outside reservations for weekend brunches. Depending on how many overnight guests are booked, we can squeeze in an extra dozen or so local folk. And sometimes we’ll host a special evening meal, just for fun. The townsfolk love those, don’t they, Sadie?”
Sadie vigorously nodded her gray head as she beamed in agreement. One glance at Hannah’s face, however, and her smile dimmed. “Oh, dear,” she said in dismay. “We did it again, didn’t we? We overstepped.”
Hannah could hardly deny the claim. “It would have been nice,” she said, trying to soften the sharp disapproval she felt, “to know about this before now.”
“We forget, you know,” Fred sighed, by way of apology. “It’s just that after all these years—”
“—literally our entire lives—”
“—we’ve had a hand in running things. Wilhelmina depended on us to make and implement decisions, and when we found something that worked, we just kept repeating it.”
Sadie nodded in agreement. “We forget we need to run those things by you. That you’re the one to make and implement the decisions now.” She tried to look positive, but her chin quivered, ever so slightly.
Hannah released a long-suffering sigh. More loyal employees she would never find, but sometimes the sisters were, indeed, taxing. The last thing Hannah wanted to do was hurt their feelings. She depended upon them just as much as her predecessor had (if not more), but the fact remained she was their boss, not the other way around. They couldn’t spring things like this on her and expect her to be fine with it.
“It’s not that,” she told them. Sometimes it was difficult, straddling the line between being both a boss and a friend. “But I didn’t budget for additional diners.”
“Oh, but I did,” Sadie assured her, her bright smile returning. “The numbers I gave you included taking reservations. I bought enough food for a full house.” She indicated the many bags of groceries still littering every available space.
Understanding dawned upon Hannah’s face. “That explains some of those odd phone calls this week,” she realized. “When I told people we didn’t have a buffet, they always asked to speak to one of you.”
Neither woman looked surprised. “We have a waiting list,” Fred said, in her matter-of-fact way. “If anyone should cancel.”
“Which won’t happen,” Walker pitched in, “because everyone loves Sadie’s breakfasts.”
“So, you knew about this, too, but didn’t say anything?” Her tone with the lawyer was much more accusatory.
“Know about it? I’m the one who came up with the idea, years ago,” he boasted. “My family has been coming here since I was a kid.”
“It’s true,” Sadie confirmed. “Back when he was still a little tyke, I would make him German pancakes and hopple popple casserole, and he would say they were so delicious, I should share them with everybody.”
“I’d slip over here for breakfast, then go home and pretend to be hungry so I wouldn’t hurt my mother’s feelings,” he recalled with a fond chuckle. “When she finally caught on to me, I begged Sadie to cook breakfast and let me bring my mother over for a special treat.”
“His mother enjoyed it so much,” Sadie said, “that he wanted to know if his friends could bring their moms, too. So, it started with Mother’s Day—”
“—but soon blossomed into a regular event,” Fred concluded.
Hannah stared at the lawyer, who seemed quite pleased with himself. “And you were how old?”
“I don’t know. Eight, ten. Something like that.” He shrugged nonchalantly.
Momentarily distracted by the breadth and grace of his muscular shoulders, Hannah snapped back to attention. “And you just ran around the countryside, at will.” Her frown spoke volumes.
“Well, our land does back
up to theirs,” he offered.
“It does?” This, too, was news to Hannah. She threw up her hands in exasperation. “You live next door, and I’m just learning about it? What else have you been keeping from me?”
“I wasn’t keeping anything from you,” Walker denied. “You’ve never asked where I live. And it’s not exactly next door. You access my parents’ house from the highway, a good ten miles or so away by car, unless you go through the pasture. Which, by the way, is what I did when I was a kid.”
“So, where do you live?”
“About three miles, that way.” He used a box of crackers to point the direction. His sudden smile was disarming. “Why? You want a tour?”
She snatched the crackers from him to put them in their proper place. She attempted to do the same with him. “No, I do not. I’m much too busy to be touring anything other than this property. Which reminds me. We need to do one more trial run.”
A round of groans circled the room.
“Hannah, honey,” Sadie said, coming over and putting both her hands on the younger woman’s shoulders. She gently pulled her away from the pantry. “Don’t you think we’ve had enough trial runs? Everything is going to be fine. When that first guest checks in on Friday afternoon, it’s going to go as smooth as silk. Don’t worry so much.”
“Easy for you to say. You’ve done this before. I haven’t.”
“That’s what we’re here for, sweetie,” Fred assured her. “We’ve done this hundreds of times, and we’ll be here, right beside you, helping until it’s old hat for you, as well.”
“We’re in this together, dear,” Sadie summed up her sister’s sentiment as she administered a quick hug.
“Thank you.” Hannah’s wan smile still didn’t look convinced. She heaved out a deep breath before thinking to ask, “Is there anything else you’ve forgotten to mention? We don’t offer sky diving lessons, do we?”
“Don’t be silly,” Fred said with a dismissive frown. “Although in the rainy season, we have been known to have mud slide races. And of course, there’s the spring crawfish boil, and the Halloween carnival each fall. Oh, and the fishing tournaments, but those don’t start until July.”