by Alexa Davis
I felt a slight twinge in my stomach at his words, unintentionally thinking about Jason Steed and whether my brother’s connections could save us the embarrassment of being publicly attacked by his family. I shoved the thought firmly from my mind and forced a smile. I wouldn’t let anything get in the way of what I wanted. I never had before, and with Rachel, it only mattered even more.
We didn’t discuss it with Rachel’s mother, but we sat and chatted with her in their sunny kitchen, eating fry-bread with honey-butter until my dad came back around, the back of the truck full of food stuffs. We had a little more time to kill, so Dad helped himself to some of the delicious fried dough and Frank brewed a fresh pot of coffee while they peppered us with questions about Texas Tango, how Rachel was doing with the horses, and the ranch in general.
After hearing everything my father and I had to say about her, it occurred to me that if they hadn’t wanted to give their blessing already, knowing how much we all loved and appreciated her might have swung things in my favor anyways.
“You think she’s tenacious now, but if you’d seen her before…” Her father’s voice broke under the weight of so much emotion. “She was more tender, softer. Always the hardest worker, of course, but more quietly sure of herself, no fear.” He frowned. “I know bad things happen to good people. But, it would be nice if bad people weren’t able to just hurt the good ones and walk away.” Merida patted her husband’s hand.
“I plan to keep her safe from now on,” I growled.
“We know you will. It’s just one of those things that you never really get over, watching your child almost die. She’ll never make a big deal out of it. To be honest, there’s just a lot she wasn’t even aware of, because she wasn’t awake. But, Daniel, we almost lost her. She had to relearn to walk, to ride. Everything she loves, she’s fought for. Just don’t get in her way, and she will never let you down.” Merida reached out and squeezed my hand. “I am glad you chose each other.”
She glanced at the clock. “Oh gracious, you need to skedaddle, or your soon-to-be-jockey will think you forgot her.”
I glanced down at my watch. Sure enough, we had to get back on the road. With thanks, hugs, and a couple of travel mugs of fresh coffee to go, we headed to the Bergstrom airport to wrangled us a jockey. On the way, we didn’t talk to each other, and there was no sound in the car but old country on the iPod I’d given my mom for Christmas when they were still popular.
I tried to focus on interview questions in my head while my father hummed along with the music and tapped the steering wheel with his fingers in time to the mandolin. I chewed my lip and thought about what Rachel’s mother had said about her. I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that I’d read her wrong, and maybe I shouldn’t do anything about the ring weighing down my pocket like lead.
“That look on your face has me concerned, son,” my father casually mentioned as he pulled into a parking stall. He picked an empty, manila envelope out of the console, and used his teeth to pull the cap off a sharpie he found in the depths of the same. “Verica Blythe” he wrote in his ungainly scrawl across one side.
“I’m fine, Pop, just worried that I pushed so hard for this, that I’ve scared you off of trusting my gambles,” I teased. He shook his head at me.
“No, son, I trust your gambles. And don’t you worry. She will, too.”
I knew without asking that the “she” my father referred to was not the inbound jockey. I knew Rachel was worth the risk. She had shown me that from the first minute I’d known her. But, she had a past that made men like me look like scum, and I fought back a sharp little edge of fear that either her past, or her perception of mine, might prevent us from having a future.
I stood by the baggage carrousels and held our hand-made sign up high. I had only one thing to worry about today and that was to get Rachel the jockey she wanted to race the horse she loved. Nothing else. Proposals and public relations nightmares and drunk and vicious exes were matters for another day.
I glanced around the room, scanning for the face I’d seen in pictures at the top of a small person. I still wasn’t prepared for how tiny the jockey was, even shorter and thinner than Rachel.
“Verica Blythe?” I asked, lowering the sign incrementally as she bounced over, her perky walk more reminiscent of a fourth grader than a world-class competitor.
“Yes, sir, that’s me,” she chirped. Her voice matched her slight size. I glanced down and nodded my head. She gestured with the one carry-on piece of luggage in her hand. “This is everything. I’m ready to go.”
We walked to the waiting car and my father. As I climbed into the backseat, I wondered to myself if I was ready. So much had changed for me in the last few weeks. I didn’t know if anyone could be ready for that.
I reached my hand into my pocket, where within the small cardboard box lay a velvet ring box, and inside that, the symbol of the simplest, yet most important question I would ever ask. If nothing else, I knew the one thing I was ready for. A lifetime with Rachel by my side was a picnic under the stars and a question away. I hoped she was as ready as I was.
Chapter Seventeen
Rachel
It was like Christmas morning in the middle of July, and I was apparently on Santa’s best of the best list. The young jockey Verica Blythe had a good chance of making a name for herself and for Lago Colina on the circuit. I was going to do my damndest to make sure it happened. My wrist jangled sweetly as I walked, the little charms of the beautiful bracelet Daniel had given me daintily banging together with each swing of my arm.
Even the ranch hands vibrated with excitement as they ate breakfast double-time and rushed about their morning chores with an almost reckless abandon. There were smiles all around and a curious lack of complaints when the roster was called out. I was so excited for Pete and Daniel to finally get to branch out their equestrian breeding to horses that were meant for more than casual riders or dude ranches.
Texas Tango was beautiful. He had a natural speed and easy gait that did his lineage proud. I had been in awe every morning I’d woken up on the ranch, shocked that I’d lucked into an internship with people who treated me like an expert and that I got to see their first racehorse, their first jockey, and be a part of it for even the few weeks that I had left before school started again. The experience I’d gained would have been worth doing the work for free, but instead, for my efforts, my last year of school would be paid for.
The thought of leaving in September made my breakfast leaden in my stomach, and I pushed the thought away as quickly as I could, wiping a few stray tears from the corners of my eyes before anyone could catch me. I knew that my time with Daniel was to be short-lived, but I planned to make the most of the time we had left. How was I going to walk away from the man who gave me a reason to believe in love again?
Tracy, Freddie, and even Ms. Green from school had all texted with congratulatory and good luck messages. Daniel kissed me goodbye before he and his father had gone to the airport to collect Miss. Blythe. They were due back any second. Hannah had asked for my help with the late lunch that we were having for Miss Blythe before taking her through the stables. While I peeled potatoes, I thought about my first day on the ranch and my amazement at how fine their stables were for a longstanding cattle ranch.
But, it was the mustangs they protected that made me think that they had a future in horses. The Hargraves were worthy of the deepest respect as people who would keep horses they would not profit from and use land that otherwise would be profitable, simply because it was the right thing to do and was good for the animals.
At Lago Colina, I wasn’t “out there” or a “winger” as I’d been called in the past. And, I wasn’t a failure, or a “wannabe,” as the Steed family had proclaimed. Here, I was valuable and responsible. Here, I was everything I needed to be – no more, no less.
I finished the last of the potatoes and looked around for other small jobs I could do to make lunch and dinner easier for Hannah and Patt
y, but they had the kitchen all squared away, so I started setting places at the eighteen-foot table out on the veranda. I was only to the silverware when a raucous wave of commotion fell on my ears. Dropping the forks and knives to the table with a clatter, I half-ran through the kitchen to the front of the house, just in time to see the men arrive with our guest of honor.
Verica was even smaller up close than she appeared the few times I’d seen her race. But, that was usually the case with jockeys. Their small stature and weight made it easier to coax more speed from their mounts, but up on their racers, confident and at ease, sometimes they seemed huge. Verica was no different. In heels, she was the same height as I was in my flat riding boots. It was a shock to the system to see her in “regular people” clothes, her long hair down her back instead of twisted and tucked away under her equestrian helmet, jeans instead of jodhpurs.
She was all smiles and Daniel stood towering over her like a proud papa. I did my best to stifle the jealousy that purred dangerously in my ear as she gazed up at him and schooled my features into as pleasant a face as I could manage. I reminded myself that she was here because I’d practically begged for her to come, so I couldn’t very well drop-kick her back to Kentucky as soon as she arrived.
Daniel could see something was off. When he questioned me with a look, I attempted a smile. He arched an eyebrow in response and excused himself to her. He strode over to me, a worried look on his face. He reached out tentatively, as though he wasn’t sure I’d accept him touching me. I let his arms slide around me and breathed him in.
“Are you okay, darlin’? I somehow thought you’d be a little more, you know, excited, to see a potential new jockey…” His voice trailed off as I heaved a loud sigh.
“I know. I feel like an ass, but I’d be a lot more excited if she wasn’t looking up at you like you were God’s answers to her bedside prayers,” I confessed. “I don’t like looking like the jealous girlfriend, God knows I may not even have that much of a claim on you. But I still want to punch her in the throat.” I buried my face in his chest and took a last deep breath.
“But I’m okay now, and I’m not about to make a scene. This moment is about you, and the ranch, and even Miss Blythe,” I choked out her name. “It’s not about me, and I’m not going to make it so.” Daniel laughed and tipped my head back. He kissed me long and deep, until my knees went weak and I dug my fingers into his arms, clutching him to stay standing.
“Miss Blythe – Verica,” Daniel corrected himself at her admonishing look. “I want you to meet your champion, and the number one reason you are here today.” My blush deepened as he squeezed my shoulder. “I’m really excited to be the one to introduce you both. Miss Blythe, Miss Rachel Martinez, the woman you’ve been hearing about nonstop since you landed.”
I almost felt bad as I saw a little of the glimmer fade from Verica’s eyes, but not enough to keep me up at night. I strode forward, hand extended, and she side-stepped it to give me a hug, instead.
“Thank you for getting them to give me a chance to be their starter,” she whispered as she clutched me to her. I felt my eyes go wide as I stared at Mr. Hargrave, and he shrugged and pursed his lips together to hide his smile.
“Really, it was my pleasure,” I assured her, prying her off my body. “I’ve seen you race, and more importantly, I know you’re about to be black-balled for calling attention to the treatment of the horses at the Circle J facility. I figured we could get ahead of it and bring you in.” I smiled and patted her on the shoulder. “You really should thank Miss Vale, and make sure you tell the Hargraves about it. They’ll find out anyway, and being disliked for standing up for the right is sort of a badge of pride around here.”
She nodded and beamed at me, and at everyone standing around us.
Daniel stepped aside to let his parents be the gracious hosts, and they led the procession of jockey and ranch hands into the house. We lagged behind, and Daniel slung his arm over my shoulder. I saw Verica glance behind at us as she disappeared through the doorway.
“She’s disappointed,” I remarked.
“She’ll live,” he replied drily. “However, I’m not sure how mad I am at you for suggesting I haven’t been clear about my expectations of our relationship.” He cursed under his breath. “You think it’s dumb luck that not one guy on the ranch has even tried to ask you out?” I snorted and bumped him with my hip. “I didn’t work so damn hard to get you naked just because you’re short, you know.” I laughed out loud and hugged him around the waist.
“I know, I know. It’s new, and I don’t know, important,” I replied as we finally made it up the stairs trailing behind Jackson, who looked back and rolled his eyes at us, either because he heard us, or because it was taking so long to get to our waiting lunch. “I said I was trying not to be jealous,” I reminded him.
“You said you wanted to punch her in the throat,” he countered. Jackson snorted and tried to cover it up with a cough. Daniel shoved him forward and he laughed harder, staggering and falling against the doorframe. As we passed him, he winked at me.
“I’ve seen your handiwork. If it comes to that, my money’s on you,” he sniggered. Daniel shot him a look. Jackson flinched, but was still laughing when the guys made room for us to sit near the head of the table by their father and mother.
Mr. Hargrave made a speech for Verica’s benefit and quickly lined up the chores so that the men could eat and go, while those who remained would interview Verica as a panel made up of Daniel, his father, Pete, myself, and surprisingly, Jackson.
I hadn’t seen much of Daniel’s younger brother throughout my time on the ranch, and Daniel didn’t speak of him often. When he did, it was usually to comment on the vast array of video games he was always playing, or wondering if he’d ever grow up and do anything with his life. To me, Jackson was simply a typical, youngest child and seeing him take an interest piqued my own at what he might be thinking.
“Verica,” Mr. Hargrave began as his wife poured her fresh sweet tea into tall glasses for us. “I know you have a great deal on your plate right now, and we’re a small operation. What made you take an interest in coming down to speak to us?”
Verica shot me a look, and I nodded my encouragement to her. As she explained her predicament, I was shot looks of query by the Hargraves, oldest to youngest. I added my thoughts to her narrative and that my hope was that they would overlook the unpopularity of her decision for the correctness of it.
“Well, hell, girl, it seems that’s what we do here. It seems to work out just fine for us,” the senior Hargrave quipped.
Verica continued, producing verifiable references, which Jackson took and began typing on his laptop, glancing from time to time at Verica’s resume. When the men had asked their questions, Daniel, Pete, and I walked her over to the stables. Daniel slid his hand in mine and let Pete and Verica walk ahead of us a few paces.
“I see why you like her. The girl has spunk and good, solid morals.” He spoke in a low voice, and squeezed my hand. “I can’t just hire her without speaking to anyone else, though. Dad refuses to believe we could get that lucky twice in a row.”
I chuckled and squeezed him back. My stomach was tight, nervous that I’d made a wrong choice and pushed too hard for this slip of a girl who chose her horse’s safety over fame and fortune.
She was as taken with the stables as I was, and we could see she and Pete speaking animatedly while they walked toward the birthing suite, remnants of his tour spiel floating back to us. We turned to follow them when a strange sound caught my ear. I grabbed Daniel’s arm and listened again.
“Do you hear that?” I listened again for the strange, wheezing cough of air, moving past each stall and watching the horses inside for any off behavior. I made it almost halfway down the row when I saw something that made my blood curdle in my veins. Pete’s favorite mare Dancer was on her side in her stall, blood foaming out of her mouth as she labored for breath. I threw the door open with a gasp, and there in the co
rner was the crushed body of a rattler.
Daniel shouted for Pete while I wiped the blood from her muzzle, revealing a bite on her nose, which had swollen and was preventing her from breathing properly. I shouted for anti-venom and continued to search her for bite marks. The only other bite was on her hind ankle, a much less dangerous place to be bitten.
From the look of the stall, they had accidentally come upon one another in the hay that Dancer had been eating and the snake had bitten her to get away. Trapped in the stall, he had taken another stab at getting her away from him, but instead, had gotten stepped on as she panicked. It had been so long, obviously while we’d all been at lunch, that her sheer size was the only reason she was still alive.
Pete skidded to a stop with the anti-venom in a medical caddy, with Daniel and Verica hot on his heels.
“What kind?” Pete panted, pulling vials out of the caddy. I pointed to the back of the stall, too afraid to name the species in case I was wrong. The caddy was thrust into Daniel’s hands and Pete joined me on the dirty, hay-strewn floor. He whispered to Dancer, and I saw her ear twitch in response. Through tears, I watched him gently stroke her swollen muzzle and in a swift motion, inject the first syringe of anti-venom in his hand. He dropped it with a clatter and immediately sank the second hypodermic into her quivering hide with a steady hand that belied the sweat beaded up on his forehead where he had shoved his hat off.
“Get her on her feet! Get her to the suite so we can put her in the sling,” Daniel ordered. Verica sidled in next to me, and by the time other men had reached us, including Mr. Hargrave, we had almost lifted Dancer from the floor. With the aid of the additional muscle, we were able to get Dancer into the sling and Daniel adjusted it to the correct level to hold her, but leave her hooves touching the floor.
At that point, I was given the floor, and while Pete paced and tried to comfort his mare, I intubated her to allow oxygen to her lungs. Once I saw that her lungs were filling and her chest was moving accordingly, I turned my attention to a full examination, looking for signs of other bites. When none were found, I rejoined Pete, who had not stopped murmuring to her and stroking her fetlock throughout my intubation and examination.