Peace River (Rockland Ranch Series)

by Jaclyn Hawkes

  Several times Rossen had tried to ask her about her life and her family on the long and monotonous drives, but she hadn’t volunteered much. She was from the small town in California where they’d picked her up. She was studying sports medicine in school. Her mother was dead, and she and her father weren’t close. She casually mentioned that she liked horses but never attempted to ride hers. Neither Slade nor Rossen ever handled her horse. She was always careful to take care of him herself.

  They'd never even gotten a glimpse of the horse without its sheet and hood. She never took it off and even exercised the horse covered, and they’d been surprised that their own horses almost seemed to be afraid of it. Granted, it stood inches over theirs, but they’d never seen their horses act that way before.

  Probably the most amazing thing of all about her to Rossen was that Slade seemed completely okay with her. It wasn’t that Slade was uncomfortable with women. He just didn’t ever really quite trust them. Other than Rossen’s mother Naomi, and little sister Joey, Slade never let his guard down around women. Not so with Isabel. From just a few moments after she’d stepped through the door of that little restaurant, a slender, young woman in jeans and sandals, Slade had seemed at ease with her.

  Actually, the fact that Slade had even considered this whole deal surprised Rossen--surprised and pleased him. Rossen loved their life. The rodeo circuit was exciting and challenging and he loved the competition. He loved truly striving to excel. His partner was the best, their horses the consummate athletes, but deep in his heart he knew the real reason he was out here still and not home working the ranch and business with his parents and siblings was because of Slade.

  Slade was one of the greatest men he’d ever known. Honest and hardworking, competent, generous and smart—he had it all. Except peace. Slade had been raised by a wonderful father who had worked hard to raise his children in spite of choosing a flake for their mother. He’d married Slade’s mother before he really knew what she was like, and then spent the next eleven years trying to make up for that mistake. He’d finally quit trying to fix his bad marriage when his wife ran off with, of all people, a preacher when Slade was ten and his little sister Chante was six.

  Rossen knew that Slade had known for years that his mother had been unfaithful, and he had known forever that she was shallow and self-centered. Still, her abandonment, and the fact that it had been a supposed man of God, had rocked Slade’s world hard. Slade was still distrustful of religion and women.

  His good father had picked up the pieces as well as possible. Slade had loved and respected him and adored his little sister, and they’d had a good life without his mother. Then, when Slade was twenty-one his father and sister had been hit and killed by a drunk driver.

  Slade had never been the same. He’d simply gone on with his life. He was still going through the motions, and was, in fact, doing very well, in some ways. He was on track to make it to the National Finals Rodeo for the third year in a row in team roping and all-around. His ranch and his investments were doing great. On the surface everything seemed fine.

  But Rossen knew he’d lost the light in his eyes. He’d lost his trust in people, especially women, and questioned his faith in a God he couldn’t understand. He couldn’t understand why God had let a drunk driver kill innocent people. He couldn’t understand why He’d taken the father and sister whom Slade loved and needed, instead of the mother who had only hurt him and left with someone who was supposed to be one of His shepherds.

  Rossen didn’t think Slade was even sure why he was here or what his purpose in life was. He had tons of friends, especially women, but still he seemed a little alone. He believed that almost all women were as shallow and selfish as his mother had been, and he had been proven right time and again. Rossen and his family understood and had basically adopted Slade long ago, but they had never been able to completely fill the void left in his heart and were still trying to get him to trust in organized religion again.

  So, Rossen was still here, traveling the country and winning at rodeos. Always beside Slade, always dependable, always having a good time. And every once in awhile surprised and pleased.

  ****

  Isabel climbed up into her bunk and slid the curtain over to obtain some privacy. As she slipped out of her jeans and let her hair down, she thought of her friends back home. She’d been gone for five days now and felt like she was beginning to be very comfortable with this new life. Slade had gotten her a new cell phone so they could touch base when they needed, and she was getting along well with them. So far they’d traveled to the rodeo in Redding and one in Reno, and tomorrow they'd be in Oregon for another.

  She hadn’t watched the first two rodeos. She’d still been worried about getting away and was trying to get used to this new life, so she’d stayed near the trailer while Slade and Rossen competed. She’d been very careful to keep Ebony well hidden. He was probably dying to get out and run, but until she figured out a way to hide him long term, she had to keep his presence low key.

  Perhaps she could buy some women’s hair dye and dye the distinctive lightning shaped marking that ran down the side of his face. ESPN had once done a piece about the marking and had made it pretty famous. Even without the lightning bolt he was huge and his coat glistened like black oil. She needed to find a way to get him to some barn in the middle of nowhere where he couldn’t be discovered. She’d stay there with him, although she was afraid to be alone. She had the little gun her grandfather had given her, but she knew if she was ever found alone by the kind of men her father associated with, it wouldn’t be enough.

  During the long drives of the last few days, once she’d finally gotten enough sleep, she had been racking her brain to find a solution to this whole mess. Maybe she should figure out how to legally just sign the whole farm over to Eli and his family. Judd and his buddies would finally leave her alone and she knew Eli would always see that she was taken care of. She’d almost decided to do just that, but Eli wouldn’t be on board, and honestly, it felt like giving up and giving in. Knowing this train of thought would do nothing more than discourage her, she tried to push the negative thoughts away and rest.

  She could hear Slade and Rossen outside her curtain still moving around and talking quietly. The more she came to know the two of them the more she genuinely liked them. Rossen was a cut up and pretty much enjoyed life to the fullest no matter what he was up to, although sometimes she knew he was much more substantial under the surface than he appeared. He loved to read, and had a deep, quiet inner core that inspired total confidence in spite of his happy-go-lucky attitude. She hadn’t been surprised to find out in their conversations that he had a degree in petroleum engineering and was actively involved in his family’s oil drilling business back home on their Wyoming ranch. He had several brothers and a sister, and they sounded down right entertaining from the stories he told. He assured her she’d meet them as they traveled home sometimes between rodeos to tend to business.

  Although she’d been inexplicably drawn to him from their first meeting in the diner, Slade had been a little harder to get to know. He never talked about his family, and Isabel didn’t feel comfortable asking. Much quieter than Rossen, he didn’t seem to be shy, but was more naturally reserved. It was a still-waters-run-deep kind of thing that was very intriguing. He had a wicked sense of humor that blended beautifully with Rossen’s madcap goofing.

  She’d never seen two humans who were better friends. They seemed to be able to almost read each other’s minds. In some ways they were complete opposites, but that only served to enhance their friendship. Slade was absolutely competent and had an incredible grasp of a huge variety of interests, although it took awhile to come to know it. He was calm and gentle around his horses, and they seemed to perform for him almost without being asked. Slade was just quietly confident in a way that inspired confidence from those around him as well. Isabel innately trusted him, and had from the get go.

  She’d started to help them with some o
f their paperwork and was amazed at what the two accomplished with a couple of cell phones and laptops.

  She’d found that along with his rodeo, Slade ran a several hundred acre ranch in Wyoming and had extensive other investments. He had an older couple who stayed there and Rossen’s brothers helped to run the place when Slade wasn’t there, with occasional help from other locals.

  Isabel cooked, kept the trailer as straight as possible in the small space, helped in the “office” and had done a couple loads of shirts and jeans for them. She’d found them interesting, resourceful, and completely incapable of a coherent schedule. They could do anything it seemed, except keep an organized calendar. How these two had been this successful on the road this long with their current system, or lack of one, amazed her.

  She tried several ideas and finally they just came up with an oversized wall calendar that they both had room to write notes on and then together they would figure mileages, and purses, and pencil things in. Quite by mistake they found a system with her taking the wheel, and then with their heads together, and both cell phones out, they kind of got into a zone that seemed to work beautifully. After that it was a daily regimen, and both remarked several times how much smoother their lives ran under her influence.

  After just a few days they all seemed to be comfortable, and once Isabel figured out that they ate like five times what she was used to feeding a jockey, she relaxed even more and began to enjoy the journey.

  The one thing that still troubled her was the ports of entry. So far, the ones they’d passed had been closed. Some others they'd missed as they'd exited for one reason or another, but she knew that eventually, they would end up stopping, and she'd have to provide documentation for her horse. She knew when she just happened to mention who they were towing there was likely to be a fuss, especially when word got out that he’d disappeared.

  She wished there were a way to avoid this altogether. Until she found the way, she waffled between feeling guilty for not being totally honest with Slade and Rossen after they’d turned out to be so good to her, and knowing she had to protect them from being involved in such a mess. At length she decided she’d better tell them. She'd do it sometime before the rodeo tomorrow. Somewhere along there she fell asleep and dreamed of long, lean race horses and cowboys.

  ****

  Slade watched Isabel slip gracefully into her bunk. As he listened to her get ready for bed he thought of the last time he’d lived this close to a young woman. It had been six years since the death of his father and sister. The pain was less sharp now, but still deep.

  Chante had been dark where Isabel was blonde, but in many ways Isabel reminded him of his sister. They both looked at him with that steady, calm, absolute trust in their eyes. They were both quick to smile and slow to anger. Both were practical and organized, but still with a touch of that different drumbeat. Isabel had climbed out of her tiny bedroom this morning wearing the wildest flowered capris he could have imagined. She could do anything they needed so far, and do it all well. She seemed wise beyond her years, and in spite of the hint of fear deep in her eyes, didn’t hesitate to turn up a good song and dance around their tiny, tiny kitchen.

  After five days he still knew so little about her. He and Rossen had just realized they didn’t even know her last name or how old she was. They were both convinced that boredom was not the real reason she’d come with them. They were also convinced that whatever her reasons, they were valid. This girl was absolutely stable, he was sure of that. She was capable, but at the same time so completely feminine. Naturally beautiful, she didn’t have a drop of that obnoxious, catty teasing most women used on him. He’d never known a girl he felt this comfortable with except his own sister. But Isabel definitely didn’t seem like a sister. That was the one thing about her that actually did trouble him. He was drawn to her—like a quiet, but insistent magnet.

  In the last five days, he’d completely lost the urge to eat out, go dancing after the rodeo, or hang out with the guys. In all honesty some of those things had begun to pale before she’d come with them. Now however, after the rodeo or when they’d made it to wherever they were headed for the day, he just wanted to come back to the trailer, sit on the steps or in the old lawn chairs and quietly watch the stars. She wasn’t a big talker and neither was he, but the silence was comfortable. Without even knowing it, she was bringing him peace.

  It had been a long time coming.

  ****

  Rossen watched Slade watching Isabel again. Something told him that maybe Slade had finally found whatever it was he’d lost. He smiled to himself for his friend.

  He lay back on his bed and linked his fingers behind his head to stare up through the small window at the moon and ponder. Okay Lord, what have you got in mind for me? I’m trying to be patient, but I’d really like to settle down as well. Any ideas? Just then a wisp of cloud blew across the moon and he thought to himself, How silly that some truly don’t know God is watching over us. He’s so obvious sometimes.

  ****

  Slade and Rossen woke to ham, whole grain blackberry muffins hot from the oven with real butter, fresh squeezed orange juice, and cold milk. The tiny kitchen had been straightened and Isabel’s bed was neatly made. They could hear her outside talking to her horse as she lounged him in a circle. Opening the curtains over the table, they watched her as they ate.

  Around a bite of his muffin, Rossen wondered, “What do you ‘spose, Slade? Why did she come with, and why won’t she take the sheet off that poor horse? I wonder when she’ll either ride him or turn him out to run.”

  Slade washed his own muffin down with a glass of milk before answering, “Actually, first thing the other morning I stepped out just in time to see her finish sliding the sheet back on him. I think she’d been grooming him, although it was still so dark out I don’t know how she could see what she was doing.”

  Rossen looked puzzled. “Maybe he has a skin condition and can’t be exposed to the light. I wonder if he’s contagious. Maybe we should ask.” He was warming to his topic. “Or maybe it’s just a dang ugly horse and she just doesn’t want anyone to see it.”

  Slade was thoughtful. “If I hadn’t come to really trust her, I’d almost wonder if she was trying to hide that horse.”

  Rossen swallowed another bite of muffin. “Nah, what would a nice girl like her have to hide?”

  Later that afternoon, they’d cared for their horses, roped for awhile, confirmed their entries for that night’s rodeo and checked their gear. They were sitting at the table eating the Asian salads Isabel had built for them before leaving to run a few errands. Rossen was clicking through the channels on their little TV and paused on TNN. It was a beer commercial so he waited to see what was being televised.

  They’d both just taken a bite of their salads when the announcer came back on with a special report about the mysterious disappearance of a world class Thoroughbred stallion and his owner Ms. Carrie O’Rourke, granddaughter of the late Hugh O’Rourke, and owner of the beautiful Wind Dance Farms of Woodland Hills, California. The missing stallion had won both the Preakness and the Belmont Stakes, and had then gone on to be one of the most successful racehorse sires of their time. Slade and Rossen stopped chewing in unison as across the screen flashed a grainy picture of Isabel, followed immediately by footage of the several-million-dollar stallion Ebony Wind with the distinctive marking of a wild lightning bolt down the side of his sleek face.

  Rossen stared and Slade whispered a mild expletive. They simultaneously erupted from the table to explode out the door of the trailer and sprint to the row of stalls where their horses were stabled.

  Slade slipped quietly into the stall and approached the big horse in the sheet and hood. He gently slid a lead rope around its neck and pulled the hood. Neither man uttered a word; they just stared open-mouthed at the unmistakable jagged lightning strike. Slade pulled the thin sheet off the horse’s body and almost hesitantly ducked to look under its belly.

  In utter disbeli
ef, the two cowboys stared at each other, speechless for several moments until sounds at the far end of the barn prompted Slade to hurriedly replace the sheet and hood. Ebony Wind stood quietly listening to the tall cowboy at his side swearing under his breath.

  Slade took the lead rope off the big horse’s neck and exited the stall, carefully shooting the bolt on the closure. He stood there while Rossen went to the trailer and returned with a hardened padlock to secure the stall door. Still speechless they walked back to the trailer and sat looking at their salads. Finally, Rossen broke the silence. “And I thought he was just ugly.”

  Chapter 4

  Ten minutes later, when Isabel came breezing into the trailer, Slade and Rossen were still sitting at the table in shock and Slade was still wondering what they needed to do about their discovery. With her usual easy smile, she said, “Hi, guys!” She put down the bags of groceries she was carrying and went back out to bring in the clean laundry.

  As she came in with the next load, balancing the laundry on her hip to close the door, she set the folded jeans on the table and said, “Sorry, I’m not really sure which ones are which.” Laughing, she said, “Which can’t be that big of deal because they are all exactly the same size, and style.” She laughed again as she turned and started to put groceries into the cupboards.

  Rossen began hesitantly, “Um, Carrie. We were, uh, thinking we should, uh . . . ”

  She turned and tossed a package of chocolate licorice to him. “Your licorice.” She turned back to the groceries, humming to herself.

  She suddenly stiffened, standing perfectly still for a moment, and then silently turned around to stare at the two of them with wide eyes. “What did you say?” She stood looking from one to the other, searching their faces.