Last Second Chance (A Thomas Family Novel Book 2)

by Kristi Cramer

  Asking Kylie a question like that reflected how much it had been just the two of them for so many years. Kylie hadn’t had much of a childhood, given their constant struggle for money and dealing with the stigma of being the child of a single mom in a conservative small town. As a result, Kylie had a great head on her shoulders, and she sometimes had a broader view of life than her mother.

  Kylie laughed. “Not damaged. Not permanently anyway. You had to deal with a lot. Now, you have to learn to let it go. Holding onto that anger really only hurts one person.”

  Janie pointed her finger at her own chest.

  Kylie nodded. “The wise woman who raised me taught me that.”

  This elicited a snort from Janie. “Yeah. I don’t know about wise. So, are you going to tell me what the deal is? He was sick?”

  “He wants to tell you himself. Mom, he has come a really long way just to talk to you. All he wants is your forgiveness.”

  Heaving a sigh, Janie lifted her salad fork. “I’ll try harder next time I see him. I promise.” She paused in confusion. “Wait. Wasn’t I going to get this to go?”

  Kylie shrugged. “I was trying to set it up so you’d have some time to talk with him.”

  “Yeah, well, that worked great.”

  “Not for want of trying.”

  ⋘⋆⋙

  After leaving the Chew & Brew, Cody aimlessly drove around Syracuse. He didn’t know how he was going to get through to Janie and get her to give him another chance.

  Perversely, her stubbornness was part of what he had loved about her. Still loved, if he were being honest with himself. Seeing her now made him realize his love for her had only been sleeping. It had truly never gone away. It was probably the reason he had stayed away from any marriage contract.

  His guilt was certainly the driving force behind his success, the thing that kept him working late at the office, always seeking some fresh way to make money, chewing up the time so he didn’t have any excess on his hands. It was the reason he’d been willing to enter into some seriously dark areas...but best not think of that.

  His affairs in the interim—he’d had a few—had always burned bright and fast, self-consuming and utterly superficial. There was never any depth to them that could tempt him to extend them past the social event of the evening or the lonely night at some bar in the city. No. He’d deliberately kept himself from any relationship that might have turned into something serious.

  The idea that Janie might take him back hadn’t been a conscious one, but every day he spent in Syracuse was another day he hoped against hope that she would forgive him and they could find love again.

  But what if she never did? What if all his effort resulted in a big, fat zero? What then?

  Without realizing it, he found himself driving up to the boarded up cabin perched on the shores of Eyelet Lake. The cabin that had been in his family for over a century. His headlights illuminated it, and he wondered if the key was still under the flowerpot by the front step....

  ⋘⋆⋙

  Frustrated, Angelisa stared at her computer screen. She had Googled Hamilton County, Kansas, and had found next to nothing. There was some historical crap about early settlers, and vague ramblings about the agriculture. But nothing about the ranches in the area; nothing about the Thomas family.

  After remembering Reardon had a sister who was a cop—the one who had arrested him, the one who had wreaked so much havoc in the police department a year ago—research on her revealed she had moved to Kansas and married a cowboy. That had to be more than a coincidence.

  Vincenzi knew more about Reardon’s whereabouts than he had given her during their impromptu chat, but she didn’t dare risk another confrontation with the man. He was surely on a higher level of awareness now, and might be packing heat, too.

  This wasn’t like Afghanistan, where she could order information gathering with impunity. Of course, her methods in Afghanistan had ultimately led to her court-martial, leading to her dishonorable discharge in absentia. As if she would to stick around for a court-martial!

  These days, she was much more hands-on with her techniques, be they intelligence gathering via computer or via direct confrontation. She wasn’t above getting her hands dirty if the situation called for it. But she also knew better than to compromise her identity by risking too much exposure.

  Which led to her current quandary.

  Angelisa knew she had to make a decision whether to pursue Reardon out of state or let him ride free. Heading off into the unknown was not something she relished. It would take her away from her business for at least a couple days, and she’d have to put a crew together.

  But Reardon had lost her a lot of money and product when he got caught. He had ten pounds of choice Mexican methamphetamine in his car—a street value of over seventy-five thousand dollars—when he and his brother got picked up. They had also given up the location of two of her safe houses, losing her stash of three hundred thousand dollars at one house, and the kitchen where her local cooks produced smaller amounts of cheaper product in the other.

  Reardon had to pay, just like his brother already had. Everyone who knew he was back on the streets would watch to see what she would do. She couldn’t just let him go. There would be trouble of a different sort from her compatriots if she didn’t protect her reputation.

  Almost as an afterthought, she clicked on a link to the Hamilton County Chamber of Commerce. On their website’s calendar of events, she noticed a county fair coming up in June. Maybe, she thought, scrolling through the events, maybe I’ll be able to spot him at the fair, or at least learn about the cowboy’s family....

  ⋘⋆⋙

  Tim woke with a start.

  Totally disoriented, he heard snoring and thought he was back in prison. As his eyes adjusted to the yard lights filtering in through the thin curtains, he saw the wooden frames of the bunks, the lockers against the wall, and the shadow of the antelope head hanging above the door. He exhaled, the memory of his day replacing the nightmarish fear that somehow the last six months had been a dream.

  The snoring sleeper snorted again, then mumbled, and Tim realized it was Jeff. Above his muttering, Tim could hear animals in the distance. Cattle were lowing, and he heard a horse neigh. Something clunked against a wooden structure, then a dog barked—the sound close, then moving off around the other side of the building.

  Soon after that, he heard footsteps on the porch connecting the bunkhouses together, and what sounded like the action of a rifle loading a cartridge into the chamber.

  Tim sat up, debating whether he should get up and see what was going on.

  “Probably a coyote.” Jax’s voice rising out of the darkness on the other side of the room startled him. “They get to spooking the livestock sometimes. Deke, or whoever is on call, lets Cappy out and gets the rifle, just in case. Most times, the dog scares ’em off.”

  “Huh.” Another aspect of country life that had never occurred to him. “Are we supposed to help?”

  “They’ll rouse us if they need us.”

  Tim lay back in bed and listened to see if he could hear anything else. After a short while, he heard dog claws clicking on the deck and footsteps retreating the way they had come.

  “All is well,” Jax said, and the bunkhouse settled into silence once again.

  Chapter Seven

  Birds. It sounded like thousands of birds intruding on Tim’s consciousness. It wasn’t melodious, but frantic chirping and squawking. Upon opening his eyes, he noticed a change in the quality of the light filtering in around the curtains. Softer and white...not the yellow of the halide lights. It wasn’t daylight by any stretch, but dawn was coming.

  Hearing Jax and Jeff both stirring, Tim threw back the sheets, swung his legs over the edge of the bunk, and dropped lightly to the floor. At a loss about protocol, he stood for a moment before remembering that Deke had said to meet back in the mess hall in the morning.

  He pulled on his jeans and t-shirt, socks and boots,
then stepped out into the fresh morning air. It may as well have been another planet. The light was so clean, it was crystalline. Dew shimmered on most surfaces, weighing down the dust from the day before until everything—fence rails, rooflines, equipment—had crisp edges. Even the horizon jumped out, taking on a surreal 3D effect. The small birds, he didn’t know what kind they were, swooped and dove and raced skyward in swirling masses, their base of activity a cluster of trees behind the barn.

  While he stood, staring around in wonder, Jeff came around him and stretched mightily. “Mornin’,” he said gruffly.

  “Good morning,” Tim said before he filed with the other hands toward the mess, where he caught the mouthwatering smell of bacon.

  Breakfast consisted of scrambled eggs, bacon, sausages, and biscuits and gravy, eaten in silence for the most part. From the way the hands hit the coffee carafes, he guessed they were still in wake-up mode, or just intent on starting their day.

  “Best eat up,” Deke said—the only words directed at him. “Lunch is usually light. You gotta fuel up for a long day.”

  Tim nodded, shoveling another forkful of sausage into his mouth. He could get used to eating like this.

  Mopping up the last bit of gravy on his plate with a biscuit, he looked up as the door opened and Blue walked in.

  “Morning, fellas,” he said, spinning a chair around and sitting on it backwards before reaching for the tray of bacon.

  “Mornin’, boss,” came the chorale response.

  “Thought I’d introduce Tim to the Nokotas this morning, Deke. See if we can’t find him a match.”

  “Sounds good. You ever been around horses, Tim?” Deke asked.

  “No, I haven’t. Unless you count the carousel.”

  Deke’s laugh was more of a grunt. “Try Roo first. He’s steady and pretty mellow, but still stud enough to let you know you’re on a horse with a pulse.”

  Blue nodded, swallowing a bite of bacon. “I was thinking the same thing. I think they match up size-wise, too.”

  As a group, everyone stood up, some still cramming bacon or biscuits into their mouths as they pushed in chairs and headed out the door. A little bewildered but unwilling to get left behind, Tim scrambled to stand up, too.

  Blue gave him a once-over and nodded his approval of his attire. “Come with me to the stables,” he said, and Tim followed him out the door.

  At the barn, they walked down a side aisle that Tim hadn’t noticed yesterday, which turned out to have stalls on either side. As they approached, several horses poked their heads over the rails and gazed at the humans. Tim could swear they were measuring him up against some unknown standard.

  When he hesitated in the doorway, Blue turned to look at him.

  “What are they looking at?” Tim couldn’t help but ask.

  “You. Nokotas are very curious. They know me, but you are a stranger.”

  “I feel like I’m in court.”

  Blue chuckled. “Not surprising. They trust me, but they aren’t sure about you yet. You can be sure they’ll be paying attention to everything you do, withholding judgment until it suits them to trust you.”

  “And once they trust me?”

  “Then they will run through fire for you.”

  Tim took a moment to absorb that notion. “Does Mitzi ride?”

  “She’s getting there. Handsome over there has taken a liking to her.” He nodded toward a reddish-colored head sticking over a stall door as they passed. “She gets out a couple times a week. You, on the other hand, will probably get daily saddle time. Unless you can’t get the hang of riding. Lots of people don’t.”

  “I gotta admit. They’re big.”

  “Kinda scary up close, right? Well, horses can tell when someone is afraid.”

  “And?”

  “Meh. They might mess with you a little. Not this breed so much, but some of our quarter horses might make like they’re going to step on your feet, stuff like that. Basic rule of thumb is if a horse moves their feet, you move yours. If you’re in the saddle, they might try to run away with you. But Nokotas are steady and haven’t learned a lot of bad habits. Don’t worry. You’ll get some schooling before you get up.”

  “Never in my life did I see myself learning to ride a horse,” Tim said, nerves making him more talkative than normal.

  “Well, give it a chance before you decide. Folks who take to horses can’t say enough about the experience. I may have been born in the saddle, as they say, but I sure can’t see giving up riding. Ever. But don’t worry. You’ll still have a job here if you can’t get into it. We’ll put you on an ATV instead.”

  “Good to know.”

  Blue indicated a stall in which the horse didn’t seem particularly curious. “This here is Roo. I know. Silly name, right? Well, the Nokota Conservancy named him Roosevelt’s Shadow, after Teddy Roosevelt. We have a couple other Shadows here, so we shortened this one to Roo.”

  Roo was a gray horse with a couple large spots of white, and dark gray hair. Mane, Tim corrected himself. As he approached, the horse turned his head and gazed at him languidly.

  Again, Tim felt like he was in the defendant’s chair, the jury staring at him. The horse’s eyes were mesmerizing. One eye was blue with light gray lashes blending into the patch of white on his face. When Roo blinked, Tim got the distinct impression that the horse didn’t have any interest in him whatsoever.

  “Hang on a second.” Blue opened the stall door and took a closer look at the animal, running his hand down along the horse’s leg to his feet. He cursed. “See that phone over there, Tim?”

  He turned and searched for a second before seeing a phone hanging on the wall near the entrance. “Yeah.”

  “Call the number for Hansen’s. It’s on the wall right there.”

  Tim did as Blue asked. A woman answered, her voice sounding familiar. “Hansen’s.”

  Blue called instructions from the stall. “Tell them it looks like Roo has foundered. I need someone here quick.”

  “Hey…. Hi,” Tim said into the phone, feeling out of his depth. “Roo has found it.”

  “What? Who is this?”

  “Um…Tim.” He paused for a beat. “Oh, out at the Lazy J. Blue told me to call you.”

  “Tim? Did you mean foundered? Okay. Tell Blue that Janie is on her way. Be there in a skip.”

  Tim heard the click of the phone on the other end and turned back to Blue. He was at a loss. It sounded like an emergency he couldn’t see—the horse looked fine to him—and he didn’t know what he was supposed to do.

  “Janie is on her way. How can I help?” he said.

  Blue stroked the horse’s nose, murmuring softly, before turning to leave the stall, closing the door behind him. “Not much we can do. Just gotta wait for Janie.”

  “So, what’s wrong with him? What does ‘foundered’ mean?”

  “It’s the end result of a condition called extreme laminitis.” Blue waved his hand in a gesture Tim took to mean the subject was complicated. “It’s basically a foot problem. I think I probably caught it early, but it can be very dangerous, even life-threatening if it goes untreated. It’s very rare for a Nokota to get it. I’ve got some investigating to do to see how he got into trouble.”

  They stood in silence, looking into the stall until Blue spoke again. “Stay here. I’m gonna check the others that he pastured with, make sure nobody else is showing symptoms.”

  Tim found himself studying this animal he was supposed to make friends with and, heaven help him, ride. Roo looked up at him with an expression Tim couldn’t decipher. He looked for signs of pain or discomfort, but the horse just blinked at him. Now that he was looking closely, Tim could see that he was standing funny, kind of humped with his back legs farther under him than looked comfortable, his front legs stretched forward awkwardly. He looked like it wouldn’t take much effort to make him tip backwards and sit.

  She must have broken some speed limits because it wasn’t more than thirty minutes before Janie jo
gged up to him, a bag in her hand. “Hi,” she said, a little breathless. “How is he?”

  “Um....” Tim shrugged. “I have no idea what I’m looking at. He’s standing kinda funny?”

  Janie put a hand on his upper arm and smiled at him. “Of course. Let me give you a little Horse Health 101. You noticed his stance. That’s good. Now, see how his ears are pointed back? That’s a sign he’s in pain. Another sign of pain is attitude. Now, Roo is still fairly new, but we’ve had a chance to determine his personality. He’s usually much more responsive and communicative. He actually ‘talks’ with a lot of snorts and whinnies. Just the fact that he’s not right up at the stall door looking out at us means he isn’t as curious as I have come to expect from a Nokota like Roo.”

  Tim made a mental note to ask, once she was done, what a Nokota was. As she spoke, Janie handed him her bag, then opened the stall door to go inside. In much the same way Blue had, she ran her hands along the front of the horse and down its front legs. He listened to her murmur softly as she touched the animal. He expected a kind of baby talk, but she talked to the horse about how he was feeling as though he might answer.

  “Bring me my bag,” she said at length.

  Cautiously, Tim entered the stall and handed the bag to Janie.

  “Talk to him for a minute, would you? I need to get this injection ready.”

  “About what?” Tim said with a slight laugh.

  “Anything. Introduce yourself as if he can understand you. Nokotas are really quite smart. Go ahead and touch him, stroke his nose, scratch above his eyes.”

  Tim gingerly put his hand on the horse’s nose, and Roo snorted softly. “Hey,” he said, then cleared his throat. “My name is Tim. I’m Mitzi’s brother. Do you know Mitzi?” To his surprise, Roo dipped his head slightly, as if nodding. Tim was sure it was a coincidence, but he decided to run with it. “She always wanted a horse when she was young. I’m happy she’s getting the chance now.”

  He lifted his hand to scratch above Roo’s eyes, meeting the horse’s gaze. This close, Tim found himself entranced with the intelligence he could see there.