by Alana Terry
She also coordinated events for those staying in the cabins two or more days. She made sure they had the full effect of ranch life during their stay. He didn’t know when she slept, but her enthusiasm and love for horses emanated from her. Zach felt blessed he could do his job as well, but it was tempered with the knowledge of loss that was bone deep. He felt the joy of doing what he loved just as deeply as Ona. His joy just became quieter the closer it got to the surface. He helped corral a few new horses since some of the hands were now down with the same flu Giovanni had been out with. Then he started his official workday with a ten o’clock therapy session with a ten-year-old girl recently paralyzed in one leg due to complications from a fall.
He watched as she transferred herself from a wheelchair to crutches in order to traverse the platform where he’d be conducting most of the first day’s session. She was a small child with deep-green, somber eyes, and long, thick, brown hair worn in a braid that ran down her back. She had an air of determination about her he couldn’t remember seeing in one so young.
He introduced himself to the girl and her parents then proceeded to explain to her what course they’d be taking in her therapy. Because they’d begun their morning with a tour conducted by one of the stable hands so they could get to know their way around the therapy stables and paddock, Zach only asked them a few questions about the care of the horses to make sure they’d been paying attention during the tour.
He partnered her with Phyliesha. Phyliesha was a Palomino mare with a quick mind and great disposition. She was playful, as she was still on the young side for a therapy horse, but her calm demeanor and soundness made her a great addition to their stable of horses. She was fifteen hands high, which was a good height for both children and adults. He'd also found that the more fragile the child or adult, the gentler she was with them. She was definitely one of his favorites, and from what Giovanni had said, she was sold only because her owners had run into very hard times and had to sell their land which bordered a nice-sized town in Lincoln County, MO. She didn’t shy away from loud noises and eased from a trot to a walk with fluid grace.
After going through some instructions, he had Phyliesha brought around so the child could get acquainted with her. She balanced herself on her crutch and held her hand out to the horse, patiently waiting for the horse to acknowledge and accept her. Zach didn’t sense any unease or fear in the child. He didn’t know what caused her fall, but she didn’t seem timid at trying something new. She actually seemed more detached than engaged with her feelings. He wondered for a moment if this type of therapy would work.
After a moment, Phyliesha brought her big snout to the girl’s hand and arm. She nudged the girl, almost setting her off-balance, but before her parents could rush to her aid, the child adjusted the crutches and grabbed a handful of her mane to steady herself. Phyliesha gently bobbed her head and snorted in approval.
Zach watched as the child rubbed the horse’s neck and whispered to her. He gave them a few more minutes together like that then stepped forward.
“Are you ready to take a short ride?” At first, he wasn’t sure the child had heard him, then she turned her face toward him and nodded.
He stepped forward and placed the girl on Phyliesha and was gifted with what he knew to be one of her rare smiles.
She settled on the horse pretty easily, and he took her through the session with very few complications. The rest of the sessions were uneventful, and he ended the day an hour sooner than he first planned.
Around three thirty p.m., he went back to his cabin for Bass and decided to go into town to exchange a few library books before going to Jefferson’s Market. Jefferson was a decent guy and Zach found him to be one the few people he could hold an easy conversation with.
He drove on the two-lane highway that led to Chandlerville, thankful the road was dry. The twenty-minute drive was normally filled with views of pastures, ranches, grass, and more grass. The usually soothing scenery was still a few months away. This beat harvest season, though. That time of year always made him feel anxious and on edge. The months of August and September never failed to remind him of harvest and long days of never-ending work. He barely saw his father during the first few harvest months after his mother left, but once he’d gotten old enough to work alongside him, all day in August and after school for most of September, they spent more hours than not, together. It was also an extra source of income for them. It took care of school supplies and clothes for most of the school year.
It was hard studying after working into the night, but he wouldn’t let anyone derail him from his dream of leaving the small town where he was known for being the son of the woman who left her family, and his father who drank his paychecks.
Winter was definitely better for his peace of mind.
He parked the truck on the street and told Bass to stay, even though he left the windows rolled halfway down. He considered Bass his backup alarm ever since that late Monday afternoon two years ago when a group of young boys with nothing else to do, tried to steal his car.
He figured Bass must’ve been taking a nap in the back while he went into the Chandler County First National Bank to schedule monthly deposits in a foundation he’d been encouraged to start. The sound of Bass’ bark could be heard from outside, but before he could get up to find out what was going on, he saw three kids run by the window of the office he was in, followed by Bass who was gaining on them. He got up and ran out of the bank, hoping Bass didn’t bite anyone. At the time, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing another friend.
He’d run two blocks after the group when the boys cut into an alley and that’s where he came upon them. Bass had the three kids trapped against a fence practically crawling up one another to get away from him. He growled low and one of the kids screamed. Zach slowed his progress, knowing at that instant that Bass was playing with the boys. He would’ve laughed, but when his dog bared his teeth at the teens, he saw one boy go white as a ghost and knew they’d had enough. He called Bass’ name in a tone he knew wouldn’t only get the dog’s attention, but bring him to heel.
Just as he knew he would, Bass’ ears twitched and his shoulders relaxed. He took a couple of small steps back and sat on his haunches. Zach saw from the position of his ears that his dog was still on alert, but he was also ready to listen. Zach left him right there while he questioned the boys. It was slow going since they kept sneaking peeks at Bass, which would cause them to pause and have to backtrack, but soon he got the whole story from them.
The boys had gotten into the truck through one of the half-rolled windows. They didn’t notice Bass until they heard a growl from the back and scrambled out, running with Bass close on their heels. It was all Zach could do to keep from laughing, but he forced it down and used the situation to get some extra hands for a couple of Saturdays at the ranch. It ended up working out for all of them. Two went on to interview to work at the ranch during the summers and had been invaluable. The third had started taking AP courses—after his parents had learned about his extracurricular activities—and was now headed to college.
Zach looked down both sides of the sidewalk out of habit, hoping to see no one he recognized and even more, hoping no one noticed him. He walked up the steps and through the door into the cool, large room fitted with unit upon unit of shelves filled with books. He took a deep breath and felt some of his restlessness ease.
He placed his books in the return bin, went through the old-fashioned turnstile, and turned to the left, toward the fictional suspense and military non-fiction sections.
“Hey, Zach,” came the whispered greeting from down the aisle. He looked up from the back of the book he was reading.
“Hey, Kimberly.” He took in the glasses and hair and did a mental shake of his head. She could be pretty if she tried, but she seemed to like her books more than people. He could relate. He was more fond of four-legged animals.
Zach knew he wasn’t the most sociable person at the ranch or in the town
of Chandlerville. Kimberly knew more about books than anyone he’d met. He didn’t know a person more suited to their career than Kim and he admired her for that. It also served him well since he frequented the library the most out of all the businesses in the small town. He wasn’t a huge fan of television, and he could take a book just about anywhere on the ranch.
Kimberly was different. He’d known her from his school days and even though he was a few years ahead of her, she was somber for her age but always nice to him. She didn’t snicker when she saw him with his three-year-old backpack, nor did she look at him with pity. Kimberly was on the chunky side, but she had a beautiful smile and sunny disposition, that reminded him of his mother, when she came out from her shell. Her eccentric glasses made him wonder if she was going for invisible when she put them on.
“We just got a new one from Brian Andrews and the latest from J.B. Turner. I have them up at the desk in case you’re interested.”
“Definitely. Thank you.”
“No problem.”
“Are you headed up there now?” He glanced at his watch and noticed a half hour had passed.
“Yeah. Come on.” She tipped her head to the side in a gesture for him to follow her.
He followed her up to the mahogany counter that circled the huge cherrywood desk in the middle of the room. Kimberly went through a small swinging door that would separate her from library patrons. She reached down behind the counter to retrieve the books and stamped them before handing them to him. Zach signed for them and a couple of others he’d picked up. He was about to leave when she stopped him.
“So how are the therapy sessions going?”
“Really good. I think we’ve finally found our flow.”
Kimberly nodded her head. “So how do things look for the next month or so?”
Zach thought back to the calendar he’d looked at that morning. “Pretty clear. Are you looking to get away from the books for a few days? You’ve never shown interest in riding before.”
“I have a friend that might be coming for a visit. She enjoys horseback riding.”
For a moment, Zach thought she’d say more, but she closed her mouth. Okay.
“We may have a couple of packages left in February for those wanting to rent a cabin. The weather has been cooperating this season so we’re packed. Therapy sessions on their own are booked through to April unless Giovanni hires another therapist. He’s holding interviews right now so that may change.”
Kimberly’s expression gave nothing away. “Good to know. Thanks, Zach.”
He repositioned his books for a better hold then turned to walk out. “You’re welcome. Tell your friend to book soon, if they’re interested.”
“I will,” she said as she adjusted her glasses and turned her attention toward the paperwork on her desk.
Zach descended the stairs and got into his truck. He placed the books in his glove compartment, because Sebastian liked his books as well but for totally different reasons.
He looked into the soulful, brown eyes of his companion and gave him a scratch under his chin. “Sorry about the wait. Are you ready to see what treats Jeff has in store for you?” He was treated to an open mouth and lolling tongue as a response. “Then let’s go.”
Jefferson’s year-round farmers market was a fifteen-minute drive west of Chandlerville. He’d met Jeff a few years ago and they’d hit it off right away. Whether they wore their scars on the outside or the inside, road-weary men could detect it in one another, and he was definitely weary. He’d seen and experienced more than he’d wish on his worst enemy. Although, if his worst enemy, being Satan, had ever had the ability to love as he’d once had, he may not be as evil as he was.
Jeff didn’t ask too many questions and neither did Zach. They had a mutual respect for each other and their pasts. It made for easy conversations and even easier quiet time when they spent the occasional day fishing. He kept to himself mostly and Zach didn’t fault him. When the man wanted company, he’d mention fishing to Zach; they’d make plans and the first two consecutive days Zach had off, they’d be on a boat in the middle of a lake.
That night, Zach lay in bed thinking about the day that went from emotionally distressing to content. The time spent with Jeff made him thankful for the few friends he allowed himself to keep. Even though his dream that morning reminded him of what he’d lost, the last few hours showed him what he’d gained since moving to Bourbonville. Life may not have turned out the way he hoped or planned—and he had planned—but at least it was safe.
Chapter 8
“ARE YOU SURE IT WAS him?” Maddison asked from the oversized chair in the corner of her bedroom. She’d come over to help Shauna pack, but had yet to lift a finger to do anything but bring a big, round, cherry lollipop to her mouth. It was a wonder she wasn’t giving most of her paycheck to her dentist, but as far as Shauna knew, Maddison’s sugar addiction had no adverse effects.
“I’d know him anywhere. I’ve seen him enough to know his build and height, but I’ve never been close enough to see his face nor the color of his eyes since he always wears a hood.”
Maddison stared at her. “I don’t understand. How does he keep finding you?”
“I don’t know. I’ve checked everything I can think of that may track my movements. I got a new phone that I will be using while I’m gone.” She handed Maddison the piece of paper with her new number on it.
“My father said he had the security company comb my apartment for bugs and they found nothing. He had my clothing laundered and had the superintendent check the apartments on either side of mine, as well as the one across the hall. He installed new showerheads in their bathrooms after making sure they didn’t have any surveillance equipment pointed toward my place.” She gave Maddison a knowing look before continuing. “At least they’ll have better shower experiences.” She gave her friend a rueful smile.
“Michael said you were standing in the middle of the street...” Maddison said, somewhere between a statement and question.
“What? Did Michael have a press conference? You sound like both my parents.”
“I was in the waiting room with everyone while you were in surgery. Your dad was livid. He couldn’t understand how you came to be in harm’s way. Michael explained to him in detail what happened and when he was done, everyone wanted to know why you were standing in the middle of the street.”
“As I said, I picked up the children’s ball and didn’t check the street again before crossing, but when I saw that guy, I froze.” She placed a couple of folded shirts in the suitcase on her bed.
“So, you’re going?” Maddison asked quietly.
“I don’t see how I have much of a choice.”
“But you seem so resigned.”
“You’ve met my father. He didn’t get to his position without running over a few people. Add my mom, sister, and my brother to the mix, and I didn’t have a chance. They seduced me with all their coddling and affection. After a day and a half of all that attention, I was primed. I was bamboozled.”
Maddison chuckled and shook her head but didn’t respond. Shauna knew Maddison loved her family. She could see the envy in her friend’s eyes sometimes when she spoke of her father, but she never voiced the acknowledgment.
Maddison had beaten the odds. She’d grown up in foster homes, never knowing her parents, which was probably best since she was born addicted to cocaine. It was something Maddison joked about one Friday night when they’d gotten sloppy drunk, after a particularly horrendous week in the lab. She said she figured it was better than being a crack baby because no one really knew all the chemicals drug makers added to their own ‘design’ of those death rocks. Though she was born addicted, she also learned early on she had a special aptitude for math and science. Numbers and equations were the only things that kept her mind focused on one thing long enough to appear normal. It wasn’t a good enough act to get her adopted, though. Shauna didn’t know if her friend remembered spilling her guts that night. S
he never brought it up, but she had a newfound respect for her friend after learning what she had that night. Maddison inspired her to be more appreciative of her family and Maddison’s friendship. She knew the woman was used to being on her own and could’ve just as easily rejected Shauna’s friendly overtures.
Shauna made another trip to her dresser for T-shirts. It was always the third layer of clothing she placed in this suitcase. They’d be followed by a layer of sweatpants and jeans.
“The day after I could maintain cognizant thought, the whole family ganged up on me. It was like I was back to being the only child left at home, but worse because Alexander and Lilliana chimed in. The odd thing was they were all in sync. Do you know the last time my family members agreed with each other?” She glanced over at Maddison who just shrugged and continued to suck on her lollipop.
“Never. Not even when my dad started getting those death threats. Mom originally wanted to take a trip to Europe, but Dad said he couldn’t spend that much time away from work. Xander had just moved into a nice-sized condo and wanted to do the bachelor thing with him, but Dad said he was too old for it.
“It was eerie; all of them telling me that I needed to leave the state. The state, Maddison. Not the town or city, but the state. Like I don’t have a life and career of my own.” She threw a few more T-shirts in the suitcase then turned to her friend. “You should’ve been there.” Maddison smirked at her.
“No, Maddison. I’m telling you. You should’ve been there,” Shauna deadpanned.
“Well, some of us have to work. We haven’t accrued so much time that we can get four weeks to whenever, off,” Maddison finished with a flourish of her free hand.