by Sharon Dunn
A horse sale meant crowds. And Waverly was one of the biggest in the Midwest. Even she had heard of it. “Isn’t there work to do around here?”
“No classes scheduled. We’ll get the horses squared away in the morning and head out.”
“Okay.” Her response sounded halfhearted. She might not even be here tomorrow.
“After you’re done with the class, there are some horses that need to be exercised. We try to make sure the boarded horses get out at least every other day. There’s a roster posted in the stable that shows when each horse was last exercised.”
Fear danced at the corners of her mind. She didn’t like the idea of riding alone when the marshals still hadn’t cleared up who the late-night prowlers were. “I suppose I can do that.”
Alex stepped toward her, concern etched on his face. “Are you sure everything is all right?”
She’d have to get beyond her own fear if she was going to do this job even if it was just for another day. “No, I’m fine.” And she’d have to learn to stuff her emotions a little better. Alex was way too tuned in to what she was feeling even when she tried to hide it.
Alex turned to go. She watched him amble back to the guesthouse.
Feeling uneasy, she returned to the class to help the students finish up and take the horses back to the stable to remove the saddles. She worked in the stable with no sign of Craig or word from the marshals. Alex had hired her to do a job.
Despite her fears, Morgan saddled up one of the boarded horses that needed to be exercised and headed for the trails that surrounded the property. The irony wasn’t lost on her that the horse she chose to ride was named Anxious Heart.
She could see a trail that looked like it led in a wide arc around the property with very little brush to obscure her view of the stable and outbuildings. She’d be able to see someone coming toward her from a long way off. She’d have time to get back to relative safety of the stable and other people.
She started Anxious off at a light canter. Sensing that the horse wanted to go faster, she pushed him into a gallop that turned into a hard run. The harder she pushed the horse, the faster he went.
She glanced side to side. She was the only one out here. Gradually, her anxiety subsided.
Out here in the quiet with only the steady rhythm of the horse’s hooves, she could forget herself. She could convince herself that the faster she rode, the further her trouble would be away from her. She could outrun the loss and the fear.
Anxious showed signs of tiring. Morgan let up on the reins and sat up straighter in the saddle. A light rain sprinkled from the sky when she turned onto the trail that led back to the stables. A calm washed over her that made her think she could make it through the rest of the day while she waited to see if the marshals would relocate her.
When she led Anxious Heart through the open door of the stable, she spotted a teenage boy hammering a nail into a loose board on a stall gate.
“You must be Craig.”
“Yup.” The boy didn’t stop working. He was a tall, thin kid with hair that was blond on top and black on the bottom. He looked to be about fourteen.
Morgan walked toward him. “Alex probably told you. I’m Morgan.”
Craig stalked across the floor and picked up a bucket. When he finally looked at her, she saw hostility in his eyes.
The response took her aback. Alex had said that Craig had some issues. She decided not to do anything to feed his bad mood, whatever it was about. “Well, it looks like you know what you’re doing. Alex said you’ve worked here awhile.”
Craig let go of the bucket, causing it to clatter when it hit the dirt floor. “I’ve been doing this job for eight months now.”
His anger toward her was off-putting, but she refused to play into it. Her response was soft. “That’s wonderful. You’ll probably be able to teach me a few things.”
Craig drew his mouth into a tight line and wrinkled his nose. He leaned over, picked up the bucket and stomped off toward the other end of the stable.
Morgan led Anxious Heart into his stall, pulled his saddle off and started his rubdown. In light of everything she was dealing with, she could handle one ornery teenager. A few minutes later, Craig left the stable without explanation. Morgan finished getting Anxious Heart settled in and walked toward the entrance of the stable, taking the time to stroke the noses of the horses who wanted the attention.
A coat that must belong to Craig hung on a hook by the door. Morgan examined the plaid pattern. The same one she seen last night when she’d been knocked over. Through the open door, she saw Craig filling the troughs in the corral with water. The coat was probably a common enough one, but it would have to be a pretty big coincidence if it wasn’t him who’d tried to scare her last night. The discovery eased her fear, but she’d have to find out for sure before she called Josh and Serena.
Alex walked across the grounds toward her. “So you’ve met Craig.”
“Yes, I met him.” Morgan shaded her eyes from the sun. “I think it was Craig who was prowling around last night.”
Alex nodded. “What makes you say that?”
“His coat is the same one the guy who knocked me over was wearing. Craig and his friend wanted to scare me last night.”
Alex shook his head as his expression hardened. “I’m surprised he did that, but I think I know why. Craig mentioned that his dad would like the caretaker’s job. Robert Jones has plenty of experience with horses, but he’s not reliable,” Alex said.
“I guess that explains why he was so hostile toward me just now. He views me as the person who stole his dad’s job.”
Alex seemed incensed. “He has no right to treat you badly.”
She appreciated his defense of her. It was kind of chivalrous, actually. She grabbed his hand at the wrist. “You said yourself he’s a good worker. Maybe he needed to blow off some steam, and that will be the end of it.”
Admiration shone in Alex’s eyes. “It’s your call.”
“‘A soft answer turns away much wrath.’” The verse had come easily enough to her mind, an old habit.
His face brightened. “Proverbs 15:1. I know it well.”
He looked at her at though he was waiting for her to say something more. A spark of connection had passed between them. But even that was a lie. She’d lost everything in Mexico, including her faith. She had wanted to make a difference in the world and instead she had unwittingly aided in children being taken from their mothers. “It’s a really common verse. I don’t know why I even said it.”
He took a step back. Her harsh response may have stunned him. “I’ve got some bags of feed to unload.”
It was better that she not foster even a small connection to him. The marshals had warned her against forming any attachments. “Do you need my help?”
“I’ll get Craig to give me a hand,” Alex said. “Maybe I’ll have a word with him about what he did last night and tell him he needs to drop the attitude going forward.”
“How about I do it?” she said. “Maybe I can build a bridge.” Given Craig’s background and what Alex had said about him, she was willing to give him a second chance.
“Suit yourself. But if he gives you any more trouble, let me know. I can unload the feed myself.” He ambled across the yard.
She stood watching Alex take bags of feed off the back of the truck. Alex was what her dad would have called “a good hand,” a man who wasn’t afraid of physical work.
She walked toward the shed where she had seen Craig go. Alex thought they had something in common when she’d uttered the Bible verse. He had no idea how all of that now rang hollow for her. She longed to get back to the place where faith was as comfortable as a pair of broken-in boots, but she didn’t know if she ever would. Disillusionment had taken up residence in her life.
She sto
od at the opening of the shed. Craig had his back to her, but she could tell he was holding something. He turned slightly and she saw a kitten cupped in his hands. When Craig looked up and saw Morgan, all the warmth and softness evaporated from his expression.
“What are you looking at?” Craig sneered.
“Are you taking care of those kittens?” She stepped toward him. He had made a bed for a mother and her three babies.
“Alex lets me keep them here. My dad says cats are freeloaders.” His words were harsh and defensive, and he even seemed a little embarrassed.
She reached over and petted the kitten Craig held. “Do you kind of wish your dad would have gotten my job?” She understood Craig’s motivation. His father having a job would probably eliminate some of the shame associated with having a parent who drank too much. The job would have made his father look respectable...or maybe it was more simple, a financial need.
Craig’s features compressed, revealing harsh lines. He pulled the kitten away from her. “What do you care?”
“Was it you who tried to scare me last night?”
“So what if it was,” he snapped. “It should be me and my dad living in that house.”
Morgan stared down at the black-and-white cat licking one of her calico babies. For a brief moment, she’d seen a different side to Craig. He was capable of compassion. He deserved a chance. “How about we wipe the slate clean and start over? Last night never happened.”
Craig offered a halfhearted shrug. “Whatever.”
His posture and words were defensive, but she thought she saw just a flash of gratitude in his eyes. It was a start.
She stepped out of the shed and headed back to the barn. She took in a breath of straw-scented air and began to feel a little more relaxed about staying at The Stables. Alex had been right about the late-night prowlers. The knowledge that she hadn’t been found made her feel more confident about the Waverly horse sale and going out in public. Maybe a day spent helping Alex would be fun.
THREE
A chill hung in the air as Alex made his way to the stable. Morgan was already busy filling feed buckets when he stepped inside.
She looked up at him. “Hey, thought I’d get an early start. You wanted to be out of here by eight, right?”
She wore a denim coat with a lacy white top underneath and jeans. He grabbed a bucket off the wall and filled it with feed from a bin. “Thought I’d come out here and give you a hand, but you’ve got most of it done.”
He stroked the neck of one of the horses and then stepped inside the stall to look at a cut on its back leg. He helped Morgan finish with the feeding and watering. They worked quickly and quietly. When they stepped outside their breath came out in puffs in the cold morning air.
Morgan crossed her hands over her body. “Hope it warms up. This is cold for April.”
“It’s Iowa,” Alex said.
“Where I grew up in Wyoming it was cold, too, but this chill cuts through to my bones.”
It was the first piece of personal information she’d shared with him. He counted it a victory that she had even opened up to him that much. Maybe she was starting to trust him. “Wyoming, huh?”
A worried look came across her face. “All I meant was that it’s cold out here.” Her voice was monotone.
Her defenses went up so quickly. “I’ve already got the trailer hitched up.” He pointed toward the truck just beyond one of the corrals.
They drove through light highway traffic with Alex doing most of the talking. He shared his plans for repair and expansion of The Stables and his desire to grow the therapeutic riding part of the business.
Morgan offered words of encouragement and stared out the window at the passing landscape.
It was nice to talk to someone who understood his passion for how the horses could change lives.
Parking was at a premium despite their early arrival. This was the third day of a sale that would last a whole week. Though the bidding took place in the indoor arenas, they walked past a dirt lot where horses pulling buggies and riders on horses circled around.
Alex explained. “Gets the horses exercised, works out their nerves so they show better, plus potential buyers have a chance to see the horses in action.”
They made their way through the throng of people. Morgan seemed to grow more nervous. He saw fear in her eyes.
He touched her arm lightly. “Not much of a crowd person, huh?”
She nodded, edging closer to him. A cluster of people at the entrance jostled and pushed. He placed a protective hand on her back.
He leaned close and spoke into her ear. He could smell the light floral scent of her perfume. “It’ll seem less crowded once we get inside.”
The sale was set up with dozens of bidding arenas where the horses were paraded past the potential buyers. “The auction for the horses that might meet our needs won’t happen for a while.” He held up a catalog that contained a listing of all the horses for sale. “We can go down to the corral where they’re kept and have a look at them before the sale.”
They pushed through the crowd past a sign that indicated draft horses were being auctioned off. Morgan peered inside the arena. “Draft horses are so beautiful.”
“We have time to watch them. Why don’t we go have a seat?”
Morgan seemed to relax when they sat down. After a description of the draft horses, some single, some in pairs, and indication of the bloodlines, the auctioneer started the bidding while each horse was led back and forth in front of the spectators. A pair of draft horses went by with a rider standing on top of them, one leg on each horse’s back.
Morgan laughed and grabbed his arm. “Didn’t know I was going to see a circus act, too.”
It was good to see her enjoy herself. They shared some popcorn Alex had bought from a vendor who was walking through the bleachers. His shoulder pressed against hers. He glanced sideways at her. She blushed and turned slightly.
The glow of attraction didn’t surprise him. He’d thought she was beautiful from the moment he’d hired her. He liked that she had let her guard down even a little bit. The attraction wasn’t anything he would act on, though. After what his ex-wife had put him through, his desire for a romantic relationship was close to zero. Still, he felt at ease around her.
Maybe Morgan was running or hiding from someone. But he’d come to The Stables to escape, too. After Gretchen left him, the prospect of sitting behind a desk all day only added to his depression. He’d chosen to do that sort of dependable job for her anyway. The owners of The Stables hired him for his finance and marketing skills, but it was being around the horses that appealed to him most. Chalk it up to some boyhood dream of being a cowboy. He’d found an unexpected measure of happiness at The Stables. Maybe Morgan could, too.
Morgan glanced around at the crowd. Her mood seemed to shift slightly as she stared straight ahead.
“Everything all right?”
“Yes, fine.” She bit her lower lip. “I think I’ll go use the little girl’s room.”
Alex pointed off to the side of the arena. “Careful, you have to walk past the horses waiting to enter the arena.”
As he watched her descend the bleachers, he wondered what had stolen her good mood so quickly.
* * *
Morgan glanced up at the bleachers as she pushed through the crowd that had gathered on the floor of the arena. Up in the stands, Alex turned slightly to speak to the man next to him. She’d been having a pleasant time with him when she’d felt the press of a gaze on her. When she turned around, a man had stepped down the bleacher stairs and tapped the woman in front of her on the shoulder.
A false alarm. She was in a constant state of vigilance. Even her slip with Alex in telling him she was from Wyoming made her cringe. The information was benign enough, but she could no
t get into the habit of telling anyone who she used to be. The truth was, she felt relaxed around Alex. She wanted to share with him.
Morgan squeezed around several clusters of people.
“Wait a second, lady.” A burly man in a checked shirt with the sleeves cut off stuck his arm out to block her.
Becoming more aware of her surroundings, she stuttered in her step. She heard the screeching of metal and stomping of hooves. Two draft horses were led past her and into the arena. People crowded in on both sides of the entrance for the horses. The horse already in the arena must have been taken out the other side. Her heart beat a little faster at the sight of the huge animals.
The burly man pulled his arm toward his body. “Just didn’t want you to get stomped to bits.”
She nodded and walked past the gate, now closed, where a large grey Percheron stomped the dirt and nuzzled its handler.
Morgan used the restroom and then stepped outside. She was headed back toward the bleachers when she saw a man in a beige baseball hat standing by the restrooms. His eyes bore through her. He was a big man, built like a heavyweight boxer. The look of murder in his eyes reminded her of the look she’d seen in Josef Flores’s eyes in Mexico.
A group of women came between her and the man. When the women disappeared into the bathroom, the man in the baseball hat was gone. She took several steps back toward the bleachers. The gates screeched open and another draft horse thundered by. The animal yanked suddenly away from the handler and the crowd dispersed like cockroaches in the light. Panicked cries rose up. Morgan’s heart beat a little faster.
The handler regained control and three other men swarmed in to help. Once the spirited horse was secured in the arena, Morgan made her way to the bleachers. She spotted the beige hat moving through the crowd in front of her. On instinct, she pivoted. She couldn’t go back to the bleachers. If this man was after her, she’d be putting Alex in danger.
She scanned the area looking for a security guard. What would she tell them anyway, that a man in a baseball hat was staring at her in a menacing way?