I hid out in my car until the parking lot had emptied of everyone who wasn’t at a practice or in a detention hall. In my trunk I found an old pair of riding gloves and two plastic shopping bags. I dumped the bagged carcass in a bathroom trashcan, hoping the janitor would empty it before it started to smell too badly. “Rest in peace,” I mumbled. The state of decomposition made me think that at least the poor thing hadn’t been killed on my account. Some idiot had probably found it in their yard or something.
I concocted a story about writing my locker number and combo out on a piece of paper for a friend and then misplacing it. Reporting the incident would lead to a whole bullying inquiry and ratting on someone was how I landed in this mess in the first place. My lips pressed together as I suddenly understood the layered meaning of the prank. Very clever.
By the time I made it home, it was all I could do to crawl into my mother’s bed and allow the silent tears to escape. The idea of changing into riding clothes seemed overwhelming; actually going to the stable was out of the question.
Languishing behind the shop counter Wednesday evening, I kicked myself for letting the rat incident upset me enough to interfere with my riding schedule. But I’d been too drained to even start dinner last night. At 6:30 I’d called in a take-out order for us and apologetically asked Nathaniel to pick it up on his way home.
The door bells jangled and I lifted my head wearily, a fake smile pasted on my face. Dothan stood in the entrance, his face set in the usual wary expression that seemed to accompany his visits to the shop.
“I’m alone,” I said with a sigh. Story of my life.
He stuffed his hands in his jean pockets and crossed the room. His hair was tucked behind his ears, still damp from a shower. Faint stubble shadowed his chin and cheeks.
I came around from behind the counter, trailing my fingers along the edge of the smooth wood topping the glass display case. Inside, vintage jewelry sparkled in color-coordinated groups, decoratively arranged during one of my many fits of boredom.
Tilting his head to the side, Dothan studied me for a moment. Then he dropped his gaze and scuffed his boots against the scarred wood floor. He looked about as uncomfortable as someone that handsome could get, but I wasn’t going to help him out.
Finally he said, “I was worried about you.”
The protective wall I’d thrown up around my heart cracked. Hardly anyone worried about me. My vision blurred as tears swam in my eyes. One blink released them, sending hot and bitter rivulets down my cheeks. Damn.
“Jamie. What happened?”
I shook my head, my throat too tight to speak. He hooked his hand around my upper arm and pulled me into an embrace. I held on to the sides of his leather jacket, the sobs breaking free as I buried my face in the soft cotton of his flannel shirt.
He smoothed my hair with one hand, his other arm firmly around my waist. Eventually I cried myself out and regained a modicum of composure.
“Sorry,” I murmured, stifling a hiccup.
“What happened?” he repeated. His voice was soft, but an angry edge lurked beneath the surface.
I considered lying, but given my outburst it was doubtful he’d believe me. Did I care? Leaning into his solid chest, I decided I did. Flight risk or not, Dothan was here for me now. If he cared enough to come to the shop to check on me, I cared enough to share the truth and expose my pain.
But not without something in exchange. Manipulative wheels turned in my head. “I want to talk to you, Dothan. I really do. But it can’t just be a one-way relationship.” I took a shuddering breath. “So, I’ll answer your question if you answer one of mine.”
His body stiffened against mine. I pressed my forehead into the rise and fall of his chest as he brooded silently, the tension flowing off him in waves.
“One question,” he said gruffly, resting his chin momentarily on the top of my head. He slid his hands back to my upper arms and pushed me away gently. “You first. What did they do to you?”
So he’d put together the basics, at least. But for him to understand, I’d have to give him the background. I scrubbed my face with my hands, wiping away the tear streaks. Luckily I rarely bothered with any makeup. I imagined my splotchy skin and briefly wished I could get my hands on some powder, but at this point it was probably a lost cause anyway.
He reached for a bottle of water I’d left sitting on the counter. “Can we sit there?” he asked, gesturing toward an ornately carved loveseat upholstered in dark green velvet.
I nodded, allowing him to lead me over. Hopefully no customers would come in. He opened the water, passed it to me, and linked our free hands on the top of my leg. “Tell me.”
I blew out a shuddering breath and took a long swig of water. Here goes nothing, I thought as I stared down at our twined fingers.
“The accident that killed my mother happened last fall, almost a year ago. She and Nathaniel were driving home on a Saturday night from an antique fair. A drunk driver crossed the median and hit them head on. He and my mom were killed instantly. By some miracle, Nathaniel survived. I saw pictures of the car, and I just don’t know how…” I trailed off, swallowing the sobs bubbling in my throat.
“Have some more water.” He rubbed his thumb across my skin, the rough scratch of a callous heightening the warm hum of his touch.
I took another cautious sip, mindful not to spill on the expensive antique we were sitting on. “So, sometime after the holidays, I had started trying to do normal things again. I was at a party one night, and there was a lot of alcohol. Our school had won a big basketball game, and the star player, Kevin, was bombed. Everyone kept pouring him shots. I was one of the few people not drinking, and I could see that he could barely walk. Then he and his friends decided to hit another party, and he pulled out his car keys.”
Dothan groaned, dragging his free hand along the corners of his mouth. “Oh, no.”
“I ran outside after them and told Kevin he shouldn’t be driving. But he was a drunk, popular senior celebrating his big night, and I was a lowly sophomore nobody. My telling him what to do didn’t go over well. So after he told me in a number of ways to mind my own business, I finally threatened to call the police if he insisted on driving drunk. He basically told me to screw myself, and they all got into the car.”
“And you called the cops. Good for you.” He nodded his head firmly and squeezed my hand.
“I did. I described the car and the direction they were headed in, and they got pulled over. Legally he only got a slap on the wrist—a suspended license and a steep fine—but his parents came down on him much harder. He was grounded through the rest of the year; he missed Spring Break, Senior Week, Prom, and all the graduation parties. He played football, basketball, and baseball, and all his teammates and friends were furious with me for depriving them of his presence. Of course he and his girlfriend weren’t too happy with me either. I became known as the school rat. Even though he’s graduated now, hating me has become a tradition at Huntsville High.”
“That’s why they fired at you with the paintball guns.” It was a statement, not a question. His tone vibrated with a low growl.
“Yes,” I agreed. “And yesterday, they hung a dead rat in my locker. Get it?” I fought the wild laughter building in my chest. It would open the door to another crying jag.
He turned to me, a menacing glare in his eyes. “I think you should let me talk to them.”
“No, Dothan,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t even know who was responsible for this episode.” But I did know whoever it was had taken pains to alert the entire school beforehand.
“I can be very persuasive if you just tell me where to start.”
A shiver traveled up my spine. “I decided a while ago that ignoring their pranks was the best strategy. For the most part, they left me alone this summer—out of sight, out of mind, I guess. Now that we’re back at school, they’re testing me to see if I react. If I don’t, they’ll get bored and find some other stupid activity
to pursue.”
“But I want to help you, Jamie.” Blond pieces of hair fell forward from behind his ears as he leaned his head down to mine.
My heart stuttered. “You are helping me, just by listening. The only other person I can talk to about this is my neighbor Sam, and I hate to always burden her with this. So I’m truly grateful to have your support.” I chewed on my lip for a moment, considering my next words. “Even if you won’t be around long, it’s nice to have someone else on my side.”
“I’ll always be on your side.”
A bittersweet ache bloomed in my chest. “Thank you.” I almost wanted to let him off the hook. Almost. “That brings us to my question. What is it you’re here for?”
Silence spun out between us, broken only by our shallow breaths. After my drawn-out speech, I was expecting a long explanation. Instead, when he finally answered, I got one word.
“Revenge.”
Goosebumps rose along the flesh of my forearms. When it became clear he wasn’t going to elaborate, I lifted the water bottle with a shaky hand and poured the remainder down my dry throat. “What type of revenge?” I managed.
“That’s another question.” His jaw set into a hard line.
Anger burned through my veins, but technically he’d played by the rules. Staring at our linked hands, I tried to slow my wildly spinning thoughts. Anything I imagined had to be worse than what he was actually planning. Didn’t it?
The door swung open with a nerve-wracking clang of bells. Dothan’s head snapped toward the noise, his fingers gripping mine so hard my bones sang with pain. I made a small yelping noise and he released me at once. Seems we’d both forgotten about his unusual strength.
The matronly shopper looked over at us, her eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Hello,” I said with forced cheer, springing up from the couch. “Can I help you with anything?”
“Just browsing.” She flicked a curious gaze in Dothan’s direction before turning to a display of hobnail glass bowls.
“I should go,” Dothan murmured. “Come tomorrow. Beau and I miss you.”
Luckily I was all cried out, because if I had any tears left, his simple comment would have sent them streaming down my face. And that was bad for business.
I watched Dothan’s tall form slip through the door into the night. Plastering a smile on my face, I went to see if I could make a final sale before close.
Chapter 13
I couldn’t change fast enough into riding clothes after school on Thursday. Yanking on my favorite breeches, I made a mental note to do some laundry soon. In my little kitchen, I hunted down an apple for myself and a bag of carrots for Beau and tossed them in my bag, along with some waters.
I tried to tell myself the rush of anticipation pounding through my veins was simply the result of not riding for four straight days. But I knew that was only part of the equation. I wanted to see Dothan. And a plan had been forming in my mind all day—a plan to get this potentially dangerous, shockingly handsome guy alone so I could find out more about his mysterious plans for revenge.
That alone would be enough to make anyone nervous. To top it off, I’d felt watched again last night as I’d trudged across the dark yard after work. No sounds or shadows had alerted me to anything suspicious, yet the hairs on the back of my neck had prickled under unseen eyes.
I studied the yard and the street from my vantage point on the little wooden landing. Nothing amiss that I could see. Still, I charged down the stairs and across the grass in a mad dash.
I made it safely to my car and was only followed by three of the Fox Run dogs as I bumped along the long gravel drive to the barn. They surrounded me once I’d climbed from the driver’s seat, vying for attention. I rubbed their wiggling bodies, glancing around the stable yard for Dothan.
My heart fluttered wildly as I spotted him approaching me. Pathetic.
He raised his hand in a silent greeting, a faint smile showing the slightest trace of those killer dimples.
“Hey,” I called, gathering my courage. I was going to be a bit forward today. Winding my way through the dog pack to the rear of my car, I lifted the hatch. Dothan immediately took the saddle from my arms while I collected the remainder of my tack and my grooming kit. “Do you have time for a break later?” I asked.
He shrugged, watching me fill my arms with all sorts of gear. “Probably. You need me to lift more heavy things?” A grin struggled to surface but he managed to hold a straight face.
“Well, I certainly know you can,” I replied, lifting my eyebrow pointedly. From what I’d seen, he could have easily flung me over his shoulder and carried both me and all my stuff. Blood crept into my cheeks as that image played out in my mind. “But I’ve got all the rest, thanks. I lug this stuff in and out of my car all the time. It’s too expensive to leave unsecured in the barn.”
He nodded knowingly. “A lot of sketchy types around here. The stable hand’s the worst.”
I burst out laughing, despite the fact I’d suspected him of being a thief several times during my ongoing quest to figure him out. “I don’t have the money to take chances. I barely cover the monthly board with my paychecks.”
I expected him to ask me how the heck I could afford a horse at all as he followed me into the barn, but to his credit, he didn’t. My hunger for conversation forced me to answer him anyway. “I actually got my first pony for free. We adopted her from a horse rescue place. The main expense with horses is upkeep, and during tough times people often have to give them up. Usually owners are just hoping for a good home for the horses, rather than money, so they surrender them to rescue facilities.”
He placed the saddle on a free rack in the aisle and automatically continued on to Beau’s stall as I located his halter on the row of hooks. His name was written on the blue nylon in black permanent marker.
I handed the halter to Dothan and he expertly slipped it over Beau’s elegant head. Beau had not been a free horse. We’d negotiated a good price for him, but it certainly hadn’t been a prudent financial decision for a single mother working part-time at an antique shop. At 13, all I’d been able to contribute was my savings from birthdays and babysitting. But my mom had known how desperately I wanted Beau; she’d used some of the money she’d inherited from her parents. And she’d seemed perfectly content to remain living in Nathaniel’s upstairs apartment so that I could afford to pursue my passion.
My chest tightened as I realized just how selfless my mother had been. I didn’t want to start crying, nor did I want to bring up mothers around Dothan. Swallowing audibly, I reverted to my original question. “So, was that a ‘yes’ on taking a break later?”
He moved aside so I could open the stall and lead Beau out. “Sure, I can take a break. What did you have in mind?” he added, raising his eyebrows.
The sultry tone of his voice set my blood on fire. I kept my head down as I walked Beau toward the cross tie, focusing on the soothing clop of his hooves against the paved floor. I could play this game, I reminded myself. I blew out a breath.
“I was going to see if you wanted to go on a short trail ride with me,” I said calmly, hooking the first tie to Beau’s halter. “But I suppose I should ask if you know how to ride first.”
“I can ride.” He leaned against the stable wall, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I don’t happen to have a horse, though. And I’m fairly certain I’d get fired if I just borrow one for a pleasure ride.”
I nodded. I’d anticipated this, and the solution I had in mind made my pulse skitter. “We can both ride Beau.”
He slid the sole of his boot up the wall, tilting his head as he studied Beau dubiously. “He’s used to carrying your weight—I’m not sure we should add another 180 pounds to that.”
“It’s fine, as long as we don’t go for hours,” I assured him quickly. “He’s a Trakehner. They’re a very strong breed. In fact, knights rode their ancestors into battle. I’m pretty sure that even together we weigh less than a knight in a full suit of arm
or.”
“Hmmm. Trakehner? Sounds German.”
How did he know this stuff? Just one more piece in the mystery I was determined to solve. “Yes, the stud farm where the breed was developed was in the town of Trakehnen, which was in East Prussia,” I informed him, reveling in my superior knowledge of at least one subject. Although I was tempted to go on for a while about the history of Beau’s breed, we’d already strayed far enough from the main topic. “So, I’m going to do some flatwork in the ring first, make sure we work his friskiness out, and then we’re going to take the trail over to Monocacy River. Will you come?”
“You’re sure we’ll both fit?”
I settled the saddle over a slightly dingy fleece saddle pad. I really, really needed to do laundry. “Sure,” I answered, drawing in a deep breath. “I’ll just have to take the saddle off. We can ride bareback.” The words were innocent enough, but heat still surged to my cheeks once again. I peeked at him as I tightened the girth around Beau’s abdomen.
His cool gaze never wavered. “You’re the expert.”
“It’s good practice to ride without the saddle occasionally; it helps improve balance and posture. And safety-wise, I think you’re strong enough to stay on, from what I’ve seen.” I shot him a wry smile.
The reference didn’t seem to bother him so much as amuse him. “Oh, I’m not worried about my safety.”
I hoped that didn’t mean he was worried about mine. I reminded myself he’d already had plenty of opportunities to abduct me, if that was his master plan.
“Okay, then meet me at the far end of the back paddock in about…oh, 30 minutes?” I traded the halter for the bridle, slipping the bit into the space between Beau’s teeth.
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