“I was just enjoying the sunshine while I waited. I don’t get out much.”
“I can see that. You might want to put some of this on. Your face is getting a little pink.” He handed me a bottle of sun block.
I took it and sprayed it on my face, neck, and hands. Everything else was covered since he’d instructed us all to wear long sleeves, jeans, and closed shoes or boots. By the end of the day, I felt comfortable on the bike, but my ass didn’t. I was certain I had saddle sores just as if I’d been on a horse all day and I probably walked abnormally.
When I limped back to my car, Colton jogged over to hand me water and he almost smiled. Almost. “So, you liked it, didn’t you?”
“It’s growing on me, and so are the bruises on my butt. I feel like I’ve been playing cowgirl on a trail ride. Do I look bowlegged?” I turned my back to him and after I said it, I realized it wasn’t the right question to ask because his eyes immediately shot to the very sore spot I rubbed just under my back pocket. He seemed unsure what to say next. He opened his mouth, and then closed it again.
He finally found his voice and answered. “Uh, not exactly, and don’t ask me to rub anything either. Okay?”
It was my turn to drop my jaw. Hmmm. Hadn’t even gone there, but now that he mentioned it . . .
“I wasn’t. I didn’t. I shouldn’t have said that.” I tended to say the wrong thing around him. I didn’t plan to, the words just popped out against my will.
He decided to smile then. “I shouldn’t have said what I did either, totally inappropriate for a teacher. Don’t tell on me, will you?”
I had no intention of telling. Why would I? It didn’t really matter and what exactly would I say? It wasn’t like it was that bad of a thing. The roll of a motorcycle engine drowned out any further conversation as he started his up to leave. Across the lot, some of the men I’d seen at the store were loading up the training bikes and helmets in a trailer.
As he gunned it, I realized I needed to find out if he was aware of his grandmother’s past. Did she keep it secret all these years or was it a story he might be able to finish for me? I stepped in front of his bike. Not exactly the smartest of moves. He laid on the brake and black smoke spit from the back when the tires slid to a stop. He grimaced. The shades over his eyes hid some of the expression but the general feeling wasn’t good.
“Tess, you can’t just jump in front of people like that. I could have hit you, or laid the bike down trying to avoid it.”
I put my hands on my hips and chewed my lip, nervously. “Geez, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause an accident. I just wanted to ask you something.”
“Ask away.” He looked nervous, or maybe hopeful, I wasn’t sure which.
“Do you know an elderly woman named Chloe?” If he did, then the story his grandmother had confided wasn’t a secret. And perhaps her love triangle was well known also?
He looked surprised. “No. Can’t say that I do.” He looked across the lot at the men watching them. “Why do you ask? Should I?”
Well, what do you know? That old woman did have a secret. And now more than ever, I had to know the rest of it. The story she’d obviously not shared with him. The story I couldn’t in good conscience spill either.
“Uh, I just wondered. You kind of remind me of her.” What else was I supposed to say? I was never very good at thinking on my feet and that was the first thing I could come up with. Ridiculous? Yes. I just told this big bulky man on a bike that he looked like an old woman I know. Stupid.
The guys across the lot seemed pretty interested in our discussion and stared. Colton looked confused, but waved at them. “Well, you’ll have to tell me more about that. Later. I have to go. I have a pet emergency at my clinic. See ya next weekend.”
“Next weekend,” I repeated, forgetting why I’d see him then.
“For your last day of riding and your safety test. Right here.” He touched a gloved hand to his forehead in salute and maneuvered the bike around her, gunning it to leave. “You can bring the bagels.”
Chapter 5
The fact that Colton didn’t know about his grandmother’s alternative lifestyle made it all the more critical that I learn of it myself. She was comfortable enough with me to confide something so personal and that warranted respect. Not to mention the angst she must have gone through during the years of hiding it. I felt as if a gift had been dropped on me and I had to unwrap it to know the full beauty of what was inside. Obviously, it had so affected this woman that she needed to talk about it. To a random stranger. I wondered if this was a story she told to anyone who entered her carriage, or only to a select few, or maybe only me. And whatever the audience, why didn’t she tell her family?
So, on Wednesday after two and a half long days of work that equated in hours to three, I decided to take my lunch hour with her once again. This old woman, whose name I didn’t know, who had divulged her deep passions, was a book I had to read. This time, I wasn’t boarding the carriage to escape from work-related stress. My intensity to know about her secret world prodded me on. It was still an escape, this need to know, but more of a need to feel the passion that had driven her. To understand the conflict and emotions she wanted to talk through after all these years.
Her smile was as warm as ever, yet there was fragility behind her eyes. I felt a need to hug her when I arrived, yet I knew it would be too personal.
“Nice to see you. So, did your boss turn over a new leaf, or did you have to kick some sense into him?”
I laughed and wrapped her thick blanket around my legs. I kind of liked the horsy smell. The wind was stronger today and fall definitely reminded us to keep warm. “Neither actually, but there’s still hope.”
“Hope he’ll change, or that you’ll get the opportunity to kick him into next year?”
“Hmmm, I don’t know. I can hope for change but it’s unlikely. I’m really leaning toward the kicking part. My name is Tess, by the way. Tess Garner.”
The woman’s graying hair refused to stay under the knitted cap on her head, flitting frantically around her rosy cheeks. She nodded. “Mona.”
Good. A name to tie to the face. Normally, I had no time for old people, especially batty old women, but this was different. I looked at the backside of the horse pulling us and was curious. “Different horse today?”
“Yes, this is Goliad. He’s a real flirt, so don’t be surprised if he stops to socialize with the other horses or even people.”
“Where’s the one from last week?”
“That was Bullwhip. He’s taking a rest for a few days until my grandson gets his head out of his behind.”
I smiled, not because of her language, but more because I thought if she was talking about Colton; it’d be a long time before that ever happened.
“Why’d you name him Bullwhip?”
“No reason, really. Colton picked it when he was a kid. Ironic, really, because we’ve never used a whip on that horse in his life. He’s a real sweetheart, strong as an ox, and devoted as hell. He’s mad now though. He hated to stay home today and made sure I knew it. That dumb-butt grandson of mine doesn’t understand how important it is to the animal.”
It made me uncomfortable listening to this woman talk about Colton. As if I was prying into his personal life, digging for details that he likely didn’t want divulged.
“Then why leave him?”
“He’s old. I don’t understand why people think that we should rest when we’re old. Rest is for the dead. I don’t want to rest any more than Bullwhip does. This is where my grandson frustrates me the most. He keeps saying that when we’re older, we’ve earned the right to rest. The problem is, when you’re older, you also have the right not to rest. It’s more important than ever to dedicate yourself to the things that are important because suddenly you realize there are a finite number of days left to do them. You don’t want to rest, you want to live.”
“I like your style, Mona.”
“Thanks.” She hunkered her c
heeks down into her jacket and shivered. I realized the wind was whirring past her exposed ears. I pulled my earmuffs out of my pocket and put them on her head. The movement startled her and she reached up to remove them. I settled my hand on her forearm. “No, I wasn’t using them and the wind is deafening.”
She shrugged, but left them in place. I waited a few minutes, which was about all I could manage before asking what I’d came for.
“So, tell me how Chloe saved you from the Tuggs boy.” My question startled her.
She turned to survey my expression, suspicion clouding her eyes. “What do you want to know that for? It happened ages ago.”
“You started the story last time I rode with you, but I never got to hear the rest. I’m just curious, but if you don’t want to talk, that’s fine,” I lied, because it was absolutely not fine, and if she didn’t finish telling me I was probably going to scream.
We rounded the corner and the wind instantly died down, but not without whistling in anger behind us as it rushed past, chasing after the poor souls that continued straight. I was relieved that I didn’t need to wrap my scarf tighter. Not because it was warmer, but I feared Mona would hand back the earmuffs if she thought I needed them.
With his head no longer struggling against the wind, Goliad perked up. He slowed as we passed the coffee shop and lifted his head to soak in the strong scent of the fresh brew. He shook his head and let out a soft snort that accompanied the jingle of bells and steel on his bridle. His head swiveled several times toward the opposite side of the street.
“Knock it off, you silly flirt. You’ll see her later.” Mona chastised. Goliad pulled the lines toward the carriage that approached on the other side. “That’s Marilyn, as in Monroe. Goliad loves a pretty redhead.”
“Marilyn Monroe was a blonde.”
“Yeah, thanks to a bad dye job.”
“So, you were saying about Chloe?”
Mona glanced over her shoulder. “You’re a persistent one. There’s not enough time to tell it all and it’d probably bore you.”
“I don’t get bored and I want to know.” I realized I sounded cranky.
“Well, I had gone to the stables to meet Robert, but he wasn’t there. Greyson was there though, and Chloe. Her big old doe eyes were flared out like she knew something was wrong. Greyson gave me the strangest of looks. I know that look now. I see it sometimes in these punks around here. But then, I was young and I didn’t know. I had no fear.”
“What did you not know?”
“What a man can do to a young girl when he has no soul. Greyson, the young one, told me to help him put his horse in the stall. I followed him and the horse went in easily which made me wonder why he’d asked for help. Until he closed the stall with us in it. He grabbed me by the wrists, hooked a leg behind my knee, and pushed me into the straw.”
“You were alone?”
“Yes, I thought I was, and I was terrified. He put his hand up under my dress and grabbed at me, then tried to rip it away. All he did was tear it a little because the material was pretty thick. He put his mouth on mine and rubbed against me. I’d never been touched that way and panic closed in. I wanted to scream but couldn’t. I lay there while he pawed at me, and when I looked up, the horse seemed to stare right at me as if she recognized my fear, so I closed my eyes. Maybe I couldn’t keep him off but I didn’t have to let him see how it affected me.”
Mona hunched down further over the lines and I was concerned for her, for the little girl that had been attacked in that stable years ago. I took the blanket from my legs and wrapped it over her shoulders. Suddenly I was too uncomfortable to hear the rest but she didn’t seem to notice.
“Greyson sat up and started to work at opening his pants. Like I said, I’d never been touched that way, so I didn’t know what he had in mind. I just knew I was in trouble, scared. Obviously Chloe did though. She came out of nowhere, she just lifted a leg in some kung fu looking move and nailed him in the head. Sent him spinning off me to the far wall of the stable, where he laid still and bleeding. Robert had walked up in time to see him on me, and he’d started to leave. To leave, can you believe that? He thought I wanted that nasty boy pawing at me.”
“Surely he knew better.”
“Well, he figured it out when I finally got my voice working and screamed my lungs out. Then he ran back in and took the time to see what happened. Chloe was still ready to strike if needed. Tuggs was laid out cold in the hay, me with my dress torn up, and the horse tromping around with fear in its eyes.”
I was amazed. What an incredible story! “So what did Robert do?”
“He pulled me out of the stall and tried to cover up the tear in my dress, then he—I was so ashamed.”
“Mona.” I reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “I’m so sorry you went through that.”
She shrugged. “It could have been a lot worse if Chloe hadn’t been there.”
“What happened to Greyson Tuggs? Was he okay?”
“At the time, I didn’t really care. Even a long time after, I was ambivalent. It wasn’t until things got sorted out with Chloe that I came to terms with what had happened and accepted it as right.”
“Right? What does that mean?”
“Whoa, there Goliad. Good boy.” She pulled on the lines and I darted a glance around us. I had been so engrossed in the story I didn’t even notice that we’d finished the route and were now back in front of my building. I wanted to go around again to hear the rest and started to ask, then I saw someone waiting, a young couple, so I tipped Mona and exited her carriage. Suddenly I felt incredibly sad.
Chapter 6
Sunday morning sunshine and a bag of bagels accompanied me to my biker’s lesson where I anticipated to be finished by one in the afternoon. Colton was the early one this time, leaning comfortable against his motorcycle, watching me arrive and park next to him. He had a way of watching that was unsettling, hard to read.
“Ah, breakfast.” He walked toward me, his jeans slung low on hips and the black t-shirt stretched tight across his chest.
“I got you two this time since I don’t think you meant to share before.”
“Thanks.” Colton took the bag and I leaned back in to fetch the steaming Styrofoam cups of coffee.
“You drink coffee? I brought some but if you don’t, it’s okay.”
“Sure, I’ll take it. You ready for today?”
“As ready as I can be. Shouldn’t be a big deal, should it? We drive through a few paths, turn a bit, stop. What more is there?”
“Not much. Today, you’ll learn to avoid road debris, or run over it, you’ll stop suddenly, and make sharp turns. Everything’s focused on safety.”
I could get used to his voice. Too bad today would be the last day I heard it. There was something warm and sexy about him and that alone made me nervous. “You like teaching this, don’t you?”
He chewed a few times on the bagel, swallowed, and then spoke. “It’s okay. We have an easy class this time. Only one person turned over their bike and no one’s forgotten to brake or clutch, so there haven’t been any runaways.”
“Then you don’t like it?”
“I don’t know yet. It gets me around people more and that was the goal for the guy who asked me.”
“You don’t like being around people.”
“I love it, but I work so much there’s not much time for socializing. The only people I meet are through the clinic and I never have time for anything else.”
I smiled. “Huh. That sounds familiar.” He turned to me, and stared for a very long three seconds.
Then he smiled. It was only the second one I’d seen on that very serious face but it was—awesome. Warmed me from the inside and I felt sad that I would see it only for a few more hours, if at all. Then I reminded myself that I was now keeping a secret from him about Mona. I hated being dishonest, yet it was wrong to give away something she’d confided in me.
“So, who is this woman you asked me about last week? W
hy do I remind you of her?”
Busted.
Colton had thought off and on about her last question all week. It was random. So random that it confused him, and not much did. Of course, Tess had been a little off center since the day she barreled into him when he went to see Grams about Bullwhip. The thought reminded him he needed to go back and check on the horse, or actually her. In fact, he reminded himself, he needed today’s class finished early so he could check on Grams and the dog that he’d done emergency surgery on last night. He scratched his chin, remembering the shave he’d also forgotten at five a.m. this morning.
During a scheduled neutering on Wednesday, his thoughts had wandered to red hair and an equally wild temper, and he almost sutured the cat up without performing the surgery. It wasn’t like him to get distracted. Then he remembered watching her as she rode last Sunday. Stiff, upright like a princess on a throne, and the biggest grin he’d seen in a while from a new rider. Funny how people show their true nature when they finally relax. He assumed her life must be about as riddled with challenges as his. Especially if all it took for that grin was being outside.
She wasn’t grinning at the moment though. In fact, she looked nervous as hell. The other students approached and she still hadn’t answered his question.
“You’re gonna leave me hanging, aren’t you?”
And there it came, the grin. The one that made him tie up in knots, wondering what she was thinking.
“Time for class, teach.”
“You’re evil,” he teased before wadding up the bagel sack and tossing it in a nearby trash dumpster. He’d never been compared to an old woman, and for some reason it grated on him. Sure, he had become a workaholic. Not by choice but by necessity. How else was he to get the business past the point of teetering between failure and success? It was bad enough trying to rival the big pet stores with their in-house clinics. The expansion had been expensive, adding more clinics around the city, but necessary if he was ever going to get a chance to have a life outside of work.
Chloe's Secret Page 3