by Ronica Black
“Aunt Grace!” he said again.
Grace held out her hands for his iPod and phone and said, “I will buy you the stuff tonight. I tried to tell you yesterday, but you refused to listen.”
“Because this is some bullshit!”
“That’s two laps,” Madison said loudly.
The other boys finished their run and came in breathing heavily. They gave Jake the once-over and slowly shook their heads. Jake stuck out his chest even though he looked as though he might break down and cry.
“Boys, go start in on your morning chores and then report to Marv.”
“Yes, ma’am,” they said in unison, picking up their lunches as they went.
“Listen, Ms. Clark,” Grace started.
Madison stood staring at Jake, who finally took off, running at a slow pace. She watched him closely, knowing she hadn’t reached him. Not by a long shot. But he didn’t cry. He never wiped his face. Not once.
“I’m sorry about today. I tried to get him up on time. Tried to buy him the things you requested—”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because—” She sighed. “Jake’s difficult. It’s why he’s here.”
“Who’s the adult? You or him?”
“I am, but—”
“No buts. He either shows up on time with the proper attire or he’s out.”
“He’s court ordered—”
“I will report it as a fail to complete the program to the judge.”
“Over shoes?”
“And pants and time? Yes. I’ve done it before.”
“I would love to see that. Especially since I know the judge.”
They stared at each other and Madison was angry, not just at Grace’s attitude but because she found her physically attractive. How could she have been drawn to such a woman? And why the hell couldn’t she make it stop?
“Then maybe you two can work something else out.” Yes, get rid of her. Either for the day or for good. Then Madison could get a hold of herself.
Grace crossed her arms and stood like Madison. Guarded.
“We may have to.”
They watched Jake run and walk and run and walk. When he finally finished he stumbled up to them and retched. Grace hurried to the car and retrieved a large canister of water.
“You’re lucky I at least insisted on this,” she said, handing it over.
He took a swig and fingered an obvious stitch in his side. “That sucked. This place sucks.”
“Would you like to do another?”
He spit. “No way. You can forget it.”
“Then watch your mouth.”
He glanced at Grace. “Can’t we just go? Fuck this place. It smells, she’s evil, and it’s in the middle of the damn desert.”
Grace looked away, obviously uncomfortable.
“I don’t have any more time to waste,” Madison said. She began to walk away.
“Wait. Ms. Clark, please. Wait.”
Madison heard the heels crunch on gravel and she slowed and turned. Grace fell in one swift motion, one leg kicked up followed quickly by the other. Madison reached out and caught her arm just in time. She lifted her up easily and steadied her.
“Jesus,” Grace muttered and straightened her clothing. “Ever hear of concrete?” When Madison didn’t respond, she said with hesitation, “Thanks.”
Madison nodded, fighting a flush. Grace was lithe and warm, and she could smell her now. Gardenia and something warmer, darker, something stroking her insides probably much like the way Grace’s long, delicate fingers would feel.
“I need Jake to be here. He—I—” She sighed again. “He’s been with me for six months and I can’t get a handle on him. He always seems to be in trouble and he won’t listen to anything I say. It’s either here or juvenile detention, and I don’t want to see him end up there. He’s a good kid, my flesh and blood, and I just—”
“Need help.”
Her eyes shot to Madison’s. “Yes.”
Madison had heard this all before, but usually she could see through it for what it was. Most parents in these situations just wanted to hand off their kid, completely helpless and hopeless. And while Grace hinted at that, Madison hoped for that spark of love she heard in her voice when she referred to Jake as flesh and blood. That spark of love would be their starting point, their foundation for which everything else was built, torn down, and built again.
“Get him over here.”
Jake approached them slowly, red faced, still sucking on the water.
“Yeah?”
Madison started in. “Time is of the essence around here. So arrive fifteen minutes before clock-in every morning. That means six forty-five. If you’re late, you run. One lap for every minute.”
“But—”
“No buts. Also, when you speak to any adult around here, you respond with ma’am or sir, and you always remove your hat and sunglasses to do so.” She waited for him to get the hint. Grace had to tell him and he scoffed as he removed his hat.
“This shows respect, and you should do it for any adult. In order to get respect from me or the other staff, however, it has to be earned.”
He wouldn’t look at her for very long, just shifted his weight and spat.
“You can choose to obey these rules or not. If you don’t obey the rules, you run.”
“What if I refuse to run?”
“Then you’re out. Might as well leave now.”
“Okay, then.”
“Jake—wait. Jake, you have to stay. It’s either this or juvie.”
“I don’t care.” But Madison could see that the thought troubled him a little.
“If you don’t want to run my program, then you can leave. Either with her, or if she refuses to allow you to leave, you can walk. But it’s miles and miles to town. And it’s hot today. And I promise you that if you go on your own, the sheriff will be notified and you will be considered AWOL and you will be arrested.”
Grace gasped and fingered her delicate-looking throat. “Jake, you need to stay.”
“Fine. Jesus Christ.”
“Take a lap.”
“What? Hey, fuck you.”
“That’s another.”
“I can’t run that long!”
“I’m not quite finished.” She eyed the stables where the other boys milled about doing their chores. Marv was showing one boy how to properly bathe a small pony.
“See that man? That’s Marv. After you go over the agenda with me every morning, you will clock in with Marv in the stables and clock out there every evening. Now, Marv’s as mean and as tough as he looks, just as I am. So we are not to be disobeyed under any circumstances. These horses you will be working with are special. They’ve been hurt, abused, abandoned, and neglected. Some are sick. Some are weak. All need to be treated with respect and dignity. They need your kindness and empathy just as much as they need your constant attention.”
He grimaced but then softened ever so slightly. “Really? They’ve been hurt?”
It was what she loved to see. The boy had hope, and it had just showed itself.
“Some of them, yes. So I’m very protective of them and I need you to be too.”
He pressed his lips together but didn’t respond. Finally, he nodded.
“Welcome to Healing Soul. Get started on those laps.”
“Excuse me?” Grace asked as Jake took off in a slow trot. “What exactly will he be doing?”
“You didn’t read the brochure or the e-mails?” Grace was seriously wasting her time and seriously stirring her in ways she found unsettling and concerning.
“I did, but could you go over it? Will he—get hurt?”
“Not if he follows the rules. And you signed the injury waiver.”
“And what are the rules? Exactly?”
“Jake will learn them today.”
Grace gave a pleasant but obviously frustrated laugh. “Can’t I know them?”
“You sure can. Jake should be able to recite th
em when you pick him up at four. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a ranch to run.”
“What about lunch?” Grace asked. “I have it in the car. Will he get a chance to eat it?”
“Lunch is at eleven sharp. As written in the brochure and e-mails you should’ve received, if your child brought lunch it will be stored in a cooler for him until time to eat. If he didn’t, then he can eat our lunch for three dollars and fifty cents. Water is the only drink allowed and they are permitted to drink that throughout the day. They have the option of iced tea at lunch.”
“No Monster? Or Rockstar?” She laughed but stopped when Madison didn’t. “Right. Okay.”
Madison turned, having had enough. “See you at four sharp.”
“About that. I have to work late some days and can’t—”
“Four sharp.”
Grace growled, “Yes, ma’am,” and stormed off to the car. She retrieved a sack lunch and left it next to Jake’s water. Then, “What if Jake gets hurt?”
“I have your number on file. We will call you.”
Madison often wondered where these concerned parents were when their kids were breaking and entering or stealing cars or skipping school. Where was Grace? In court? With clients? At happy hour? She made a mental note to go over Jake’s file again. She wanted and needed to know more.
“Have a nice day.” Madison tilted her hat at Grace and headed off toward the stables. Jake followed, having finished his laps. Lila greeted him and then ran to Grace, who was walking stiffly to her car. The dog sat and watched as she sped away, and Madison wondered if there was any herding possible when it came to Jake and Grace Hollings.
Chapter Five
“I just met the devil,” Grace said as she finally pulled onto the highway to speed away from the ranch. “And ugh, she lives in hell!” She eased down her window, feeling like she needed to be windblown free of dust.
“Calm down, now what? You met the devil?” It was May, Grace’s good friend and longtime colleague. Her voice was loud and clear throughout the car, coming through the speakers. Grace had called her to tell her she was running late.
“That ranch I had to take Jake to? She runs it, and she’s a nightmare.”
“She? Is she cute?”
“Stop it.”
“She’s got you all worked up. She must be.”
“She’s rude.”
“And you’re not? Please, Grace Marie. You make stone-cold judges pee their gowns.”
“That isn’t hard to do.”
“Ha. Anyway, when will you be here? We need to get ready for that client meeting.”
“Give me forty-five minutes. I’m out near freakin’ Tonopah.”
“You got it. Is she dark? The devil woman? I know you love those brunettes. And if she’s tall I don’t care if she is Satan, even you wouldn’t be able to resist.”
“Good-bye, May.” She ended the call and rolled up her windows. As she finger-styled the loose strands of her hair she began to talk to herself, just as she often did on the way into work. Only today, her self-monologue didn’t have anything to do with work or with Jake.
“So she’s attractive. So are wild animals. Doesn’t mean anything. So she has incredible arms and legs and eyes…” She shook her head. “Her mouth is awful. So rude. And those clothes? Good grief, has she been dragged behind her horses? Still, they fit her nicely and the work must be dirty. Ugh, she probably eats with her bare hands, picks her teeth with a knife, and scratches herself at least three times a day in front of others. Hmm…I’d like to see that. She does have a nice tush.” She glanced at herself in the rearview mirror. “Did I just say tush? God, I’m losing it. Get a grip, Grace.” She laughed softly.
Get a grip, Grace. That was Gabby’s favorite saying.
Grace felt her mood change as if clouds had rolled in over the Mercedes. She felt gray, more so than usual. Gabrielle was in rehab for the third time. Grace hoped it was her final time. She and Jake couldn’t take much more. Heroin was a monster and it had stolen Gabby years ago. And honestly, Grace didn’t know how Jake had survived it all as well as he had. She should’ve visited more, insisted that Gabby and Jake come stay with her. She would’ve at least been able to keep a better eye on both of them. But Gabby had been stubborn, staying in Ohio up until six months ago when child protective services called Grace to inform her that Jake was under their care and that Gabby was missing.
“I don’t know how he made it,” she said softly. “Poor Jake. She just took off. I mean, she just up and took off. Or maybe she just didn’t come home. I don’t know. I’ll probably never know. It’s possible Gabby doesn’t even know. It doesn’t matter now anyway. I went and got Jake. The P.I. found Gabby. She’s in rehab. Mom is in denial as usual. I’m taking care of things. Should’ve done a better job, but what else is new? Gabby cleans up her mess when I visit and then makes a new one as soon as I’m gone. Been that way for years. I should’ve just taken Jake. Despite his refusal to come with me. I should’ve just taken him and sued for custody. Mom wasn’t going to do anything and Gabby wouldn’t have stopped me.” She grew quiet for a moment. “He would’ve run away. That’s exactly what he would’ve done.” A long sigh escaped her and she remained silent for the rest of her journey.
When she reached her office building, she still felt dirty, so she strolled inside the large, overly pale yellow ladies’ room and groaned at her reflection.
“No wonder the cowgirl was so rude. I look like a dolled-up troll.” With a quick jerk of her fingers, she released her blond mane and brushed it, then tied it in a tight bun. She rinsed her face and redid her makeup. Then she brushed off her clothes and sprayed on some perfume. Feeling only half-troll, she finally left the restroom and headed for her office. Staff greeted her, as did a few of the partners. The day appeared to already be in full swing and she felt a little sheepish walking in after eight.
“Tardy points,” May said, swiveling around in Grace’s desk chair.
“I know, I know.” Grace closed her door and inhaled the warm vanilla scent of her office. “I avoided eye contact out there like I’d shot my couch or something this morning.”
“Your couch?”
“Yeah, you know. Shot something and felt guilty over it?”
“Never heard that one.”
“Well, I wasn’t about to say dog, now was I?”
“Ugh, you just did.” May slid binders around and thumped a pencil on a yellow legal pad. “You look dashing as always. Definitely ranch attire.”
“Shut up. I actually liked this outfit before today.” She slid off her jacket and rubbed her bare arms. Her cardigan felt inviting and safe as she slipped it over her shoulders. “Oh God, my shoes.” She took them off and retrieved a cloth from her desk drawer. She polished them quickly and then glided them back onto her feet. “Nearly ruined them. She’s got the whole drive in gravel. Gravel! Of all things. And all the damn roads are dirt.”
“It’s a ranch, Grace, not a country club.”
“Coffee?” Janine, Grace’s secretary, cracked the door to ask.
“Yes, please.”
“Not for me, thanks!” May called out, knowing damn well that Janine wasn’t offering. “So the ranch was nice?”
“Not now, May. God, I don’t want to think about it.”
“But you felt okay leaving Jake there?”
Grace shooed her from her chair and May dragged over a client chair to sit across from her.
“I guess. I mean, it wasn’t bad. It was a ranch. Sort of beautiful in a working kind of way. It was just the owner. Ms. Clark.”
“Ms. Clark? Sounds so formal.”
“She is, kind of. I don’t know. I have other things to think about right now, okay? Jake has to be there. There’s not really anything I can do about it. Ms. Clark seemed very organized and capable. And according to Judge Newsom, she knows her stuff and her program is highly effective.”
“Okay, we’ll drop it. It’s just that crazy voicemail Jake left.” She laughed.
“I think I’ll be laughing at that for the rest of the week.” When Grace didn’t respond she added, “And you sounded so worked up over the phone. I really thought someone finally got your goat.”
Had she? Grace hesitated in responding. If so, why? Because Madison was so assertive and didn’t seem the least bit unsure or friendly? She’d dealt with people like that before. Every day, in fact. So what was the deal? It was because she wasn’t friendly. That was it. She didn’t even try to be polite to Grace. Most people in that situation would’ve. Wouldn’t they? Most people were nice to her and even a little impressed by her. But Madison Clark couldn’t have cared less, and that was what was bothering her. Her blatant disregard.
“Coffee, coffee, coffee,” Janine said as she entered.
“Oh, thank God.” She needed the lift and the interruption.
“Say, Janine,” May started. “Can I get a Diet Pepsi?”
Janine huffed and eyed Grace. “Please?” Grace asked.
Another huff and Janine exited.
“You have your own secretary, you know,” Grace said, sipping her coffee with just the perfect amount of cream.
“I know. But I like Janine because she likes me so much.”
“You’re harassing her and you love it. Weren’t you shown empathy as a child, May?”
“Apparently not. And Joe’s boring with a capital B. No reaction at all from that slug on a rug. He just hums into his head set and files his nails. I wish we could trade. Janine’s feisty.”
“Janine’s an angel, and you keep your claws off her.”
“Bor-ing.” She made a b with her hands. “So anyway, let’s talk shop.”
“Let’s.”
“We need to start with our points.”
“Shoot.” But Grace spaced out as May started in. Her vision went to the photo on her bookshelf of Gabby and Jake. She hoped Jake was faring well, and she hoped for his sake that Madison Clark’s rehabilitating horse ranch was all it was hyped up to be, because she was losing him. He was slipping away just like Gabby. Gabby was about thirteen when she first started down that dangerous road. It had started with skipping school, then cigarettes, then pot. Soon it was speed and then finally, heroin. Grace refused to stand by and watch Jake go down the same path. Just because their mother didn’t do anything but drown herself in her sorrows and denial with vodka, it didn’t mean she was going to mentally check out. No, sir. Jake was her nephew and he deserved better. Gabby did too. She just couldn’t see it yet.