by Laura Moore
“While you’re putting Orion away, I thought I’d take a look at your mare. I’d like to see if the swelling’s gone down. If not, we can discuss some procedures and treatments you might want to consider.”
“Okay. Thanks. I’ll try to finish quickly so that I can come see her myself.”
He veered off to the main barn where Hot Lips’s stall was, while Cassie led Orion back to the stallions’ barn. Both Gaspar and Kenyon, the other two stallions owned by Five Oaks, were turned out, grazing in separate paddocks, enjoying the spring weather. The barn’s interior was quiet, except for the rustling of Barney’s hooves in the straw.
Orion’s stallmate, Barney the donkey, wasn’t much to look at. With a tiny grizzled brown body, he had massive ears that jutted out at a comical angle. When he saw Orion, he brayed a loud welcoming and poked his nose through the bars at the top of the stall door. Cassie dug her hand into the pocket of her breeches and pulled out a dried apple treat and gave it to the donkey. Orion dropped his big head to nuzzle Cassie’s hand, smelling the sweet scent of the treat on her flesh.
“Not yet, Orion,” Cassie said smilingly at the feel of the warm, velvety soft nose brushing against the palm of her hand. “We’ve got to get your bridle off first. Then you can have a bunch of treats.”
Cassie grabbed Orion’s halter from the hook outside his stall, and proceeded to untack him with quick, deft movements. Grabbing brushes from a nearby carryall, she currycombed his sleek coat, following it with a soft brush, her voice lifting to the notes of a Natalie Merchant song playing on the radio.
This part of her life was so good. Professionally, she felt comfortable with her new life at Five Oaks, confident that she was up to the job’s challenges, thrilled at the opportunity to work with such great horses. If she could just get her feelings for Caleb under control, everything would be perfect.
After she’d finished brushing him down, Cassie offered the promised treat to Orion and threaded a lead line through his halter. For the rest of the day, Orion and the donkey Barney would be outside in their pasture. Cassie slid the bolt open to Orion’s stall as she and the stallion passed. Barney ambled out, trailing after them. Cassie didn’t bother with a lead for him, knowing that the donkey would follow at his own pace.
As they made their way to Orion’s pasture, Cassie passed Raffael, the man who’d been busy grooming a horse when she and the twins had their first visit; she later learned he was Five Oaks’s barn manager. When he discovered Cassie was familiar with some of the stables in Florida he had worked at before he’d moved up north to Virginia and Five Oaks, they’d immediately hit it off. They’d talked shop, trading stories of horses and horse people. Hank had hired Raffael as manager almost a year ago, and Cassie liked his quiet, calm manner around the horses.
“’Morning, Raffael,” Cassie said cheerfully, having only seen him at a distance earlier in the morning. She paused with Orion so they could walk together. “Such a beautiful day. The spring breeze has got Orion all pumped up.”
“Yeah.” Raffael grinned. “All the stallions are feeling their oats. He’s going to be a wild one outside today, for sure.” He nodded to Orion’s flared nostrils pulling in the fresh spring air and to the tail that streamed out behind him. “He’s just waiting for some pretty lady to come along, maybe your mare.”
Cassie laughed. “What a pair those two would make! He’d have his work cut out for him with a saucy one like Hot Lips.”
“Yeah, but that’s what makes it fun.”
Cassie smiled. “Well, they’ll both have to put it on hold for a while. I’ve got plans for my mare. In the meantime, Orion can run off some of his excess energy.”
She led the now prancing stallion through the gate of the paddock while Raffael urged Barney in and shut the gate behind them. Cassie turned the stallion toward her and unfastened the lead line’s chain from around his nose.
“Just a minute, then you’ll be free to play.” Her voice was calm, unhurried, in contrast to the stallion’s rising excitement. She released the halter lowered her hands, and stepped back.
Cassie watched in delight as the stallion pivoted on his muscled hindquarters and sprang away, galloping down the long line of the pasture’s white fence. She ducked through the bars of the gate and joined Raffael, and the two watched together as the stallion came tearing back up the field, head and tail held high. The donkey, already nibbling at the tender shoots of grass, ignored the stallion’s antics completely.
“The ultrasound’s set up. We’ll be able to judge how much damage there is to the tendon now.”
Cassie had found Caleb with Hot Lips hooked to the cross ties. He’d removed her bandages and was kneeling by the injured leg. He motioned her to join him.
Off to the side, the ultrasound machine looked somewhat like a small television set. Resting on top of it was the head, a mechanism that looked like a cross between a microphone and an electric razor. It had a short antenna that protruded from the top.
“Just hold her lightly by the halter Cassie. I doubt this will bother her, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. You’ll be able to see the image on the screen from where you’re standing.”
Caleb reached for a tube of KY jelly that was lying near him and smeared some over the mare’s leg, coating it from the knee joint down to the pastern. The jelly allowed for the sonic reading of the tissues and bones inside the leg to be transmitted onto the screen.
Wiping his hands on a small rag, Caleb reached for the small device resting on top of the monitor screen. Flicking the switch on the base’s monitor the screen lit up, turning a bright medium blue, much like the color on a computer screen. He brought the sensor’s head to Hot Lips’s injured leg, running it slowly up and down, across that area of her leg.
“The ultrasound will enable us to see what areas of tissue have been damaged and to what degree.”
Caleb’s eyes were fixed on the screen before him. Hot Lips stood quietly with Cassie at her halter speaking softly to the mare.
“Yeah, that’s it, at the superficial digital flexor. You see that area right there on the tendon? The strain’s down low just above the fetlock. There’s no sign of a bow in the tendon, which is good news, but she’s clearly suffered a strain in the tendon.”
Caleb reached over flicked off the machine, and then stood up next to Cassie. “Sorry, Cassie. I’m afraid you’ll have to stick to stall rest. I’ll start some laser therapy on her tomorrow. I wish I could get to it today, but I’ve got to go to the hospital right after our meeting with Hank. I’ve got more patients scheduled.”
“That’s all right, Caleb. I really appreciate your taking time for her. Should I ice her this afternoon?”
“Definitely. Ask Raff to do some, too, while you’re in town. And give her some more sodium hyaluronate.”
“Caleb, do you think we can make her sound again?”
“Yeah, I hope so. But it will take some time. What really concerns me is that she might hurt herself all over again if she keeps going wild every time you ride her. We’ll have to come up with a strategy to keep her quiet enough so that she doesn’t re-injure herself.”
“I hadn’t thought of that. I guess the first step is to heal the tendon, though. I’ll wrap her now and meet you in Hank’s office.”
“Okay. You need help?”
“No, thanks, I’ve got it.”
From the tightness in her voice, it was easy to tell that she was struggling to master her anxiety for her mare. She obviously wanted privacy until she could get her emotions under control. Caleb had to respect her wish.
People got so involved with the animals they owned and worked with. Sometimes that was the most difficult aspect of being a vet. Experience had taught him that when an animal was in desperate pain from illness, injury or sometimes simply old age, for the sake of the animal, putting it down was the best course of action, the kindest thing to do.
It was the owners, filled with memories and love for these creatures, that Caleb felt at a
loss to help, to console. In all likelihood, Hot Lips would be completely cured with proper treatment and rest, but Cassie clearly took her horse’s pain and injury as seriously as a mother would a sick child. Soft hearted, thought Caleb sympathetically.
An image flashed before him of Pamela laughing in disbelief when he’d suggested during the first year of their marriage that they try to make a baby. In a voice still trembling with laughter she’d explained, as if speaking to a not particularly bright child, “You don’t really expect to me to gain all that weight, lose my figure, and then spend my days changing dirty diapers and wiping milky drool off my clothes? What a revolting idea.”
Caleb could only thank God he’d been too disgusted to push her on that one.
“Here’s a list of shows I think we should consider for Orion. I’ve started off with a few smaller ones for the end of May. We can see how he does, get his feet wet, so to speak. By July, we’ll be showing him almost every weekend, entering him in the bigger Grand Prix if he’s coming along. In the fall we can shoot for the top shows in Maryland, Delaware, and Washington. That’s about as far ahead as I want to plan right now.”
Hank handed the sheet of paper to Caleb, who was seated next to Cassie in Hank’s office. He held the list to his side, so that they could look at it simultaneously. As she leaned over, their eyes locked.
It was no use trying to block the memory of the first time she and Caleb had been in this office. Her eyes jerked away from his as embarrassment washed over her once again, staining her cheeks. Boy she’d really given him an eyeful then. She didn’t doubt that Caleb remembered that afternoon, too. The warmth of his body as he leaned closer with the list pressed against her like a brand.
“These seem fine to me, Hank.”
“What’s your opinion, Cassie?”
Her shoulders lifted in a small shrug. “Other than the International Horse Show in DC, I’ve never shown in this region. Some of the big shows, like Roanoke and Charleston, I know by reputation.” She paused, going over the list once more. “However perhaps you might want to consider skipping one or two of the shows you’ve got down for the end of August and substituting one really big one at the end of the summer.”
“Like what? You got a particular one in mind?” Hank asked, his bright blue eyes resting on Cassie’s face.
“Well, to tell you the truth, I’ve been toying with this idea since the first day I saw Orion. How about the Hampton Classic?”
“Jesus.” Caleb exclaimed with a heavy drawl, his tone a mixture of astonishment and admiration. “You sure don’t lack ambition.”
“Well, why not?” Cassie turned in her chair to face him, her voice slightly defensive. “It’s a great A3-rated show. You’ve got some of the best riders and some of the best horses from all over the country. The Grand Prix there is terrific. Really challenging. I think it’d be a great opportunity. And it’ll get him ready for the competition he’ll see in Washington.” The Hampton Classic was traditionally held during the final week of August, right around Labor Day.
“Yeah, but, Cassie,” Caleb countered, “it’s highly unlikely that Orion will place with that kind of competition. He might not even get past the qualifying class to go on to the Grand Prix.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Cassie saw Hank nod his head silently in agreement. In the big Grand Prix events, like at the Hampton Classic, horses had to enter preliminary qualifying events and place high enough to be able to proceed to the Grand Prix. Out of a class of perhaps fifty riders, only thirty would move on. The rest eliminated.
In a restless movement, Cassie sat straighter in her chair, leaned forward, crossing her legs. As if with a will of their own, Caleb’s eyes shifted, wandering from her face to follow the enticing contour of her breasts, her gently curved hips, to the seemingly endless line of her legs encased in breeches and field boots.
Did she have any idea at all just how distracting her beauty was? He prayed to God she didn’t realize that she was pure dynamite to his senses. He didn’t want her knowing how susceptible he was to her. He’d been through enough of that with Pamela. Belatedly he realized she’d begun speaking again, and quickly pulled his attention away from the entrancing curves of her body.
“Obviously, I can’t predict how Orion will do at the Classic.” Cassie gave a sidelong glance at Caleb before shifting her gaze back to Hank. “Although I wouldn’t be surprised if he did better than any of us expect. But what Orion will get at the Classic is exposure. Everyone goes to the Classic. Owners, riders, trainers. Buyers. Money. Word spreads like wildfire during that week of jumping. Just having people see Orion in action is going to generate a lot of interest in him and in Five Oaks. If he does well, so much the better.”
Hank and Caleb looked at each other in silence, weighing the merit of Cassie’s argument. To compete at the kind of show the Classic represented was what they’d always dreamed of for Orion. The trick would be pulling it off without Pamela’s knowledge.
What the hell.
At Caleb’s small shrug of surrender, Hank turned his hands palms upwards and gave his partner a lopsided grin. “Shoot, Caleb, we might as well have some fun. Let’s go hobnob with the rich and famous.”
“Great. I can’t wait,” Caleb replied, his voice filled with sarcasm. He knew all about the rich and famous. So did his dear ex-wife. Intimately. He wanted to mingle with the kind of society you found at the Classic like he wanted a hole in the head.
“Looks like you’ve talked us into it, Slim. I hope you know what you’re doing, and this idea of yours doesn’t backfire.”
“It won’t,” Cassie replied, a brilliant smile pasted to her face. She wished, however, that she felt as fully confident as she sounded. She and Orion certainly had their work cut out for them this spring if they were going to pull this one off.
9
H ow was it, Cassie wondered irritably that Caleb Wells seemed to have taken on the role of personal chauffeur? It had been her plan to borrow Hank and Melissa’s car, but when she’d gone to ask Melissa for the keys, the older woman had recollected an urgent errand that she had to run in the opposite direction from town. Then, when Cassie had asked whether she might take the farm’s truck instead, Melissa had shaken her head worriedly. The truck wasn’t running too well. She thought it best if Cassie wait until it was taken to the garage so George, the mechanic, could look at it.
Well, she could always call for a cab, Cassie decided. But Melissa had foiled that plan, too. Before she could even locate the blasted telephone book, Melissa had turned to Caleb, who was seated at the kitchen table grabbing a quick bite before heading off to the animal hospital. His dark head bent over the newspaper, a mug of hot coffee in his hand, he’d been studiously ignoring the conversation around him. As if the thought had just occurred to her Melissa announced brightly that she was sure Caleb could wait a few extra minutes while Cassie changed for her meeting with John Perkins. Then he could drop her off at the school on his way to the hospital.
Caleb looked up and shot Melissa a thunderous scowl, his dark eyebrows drawn together in a forbidding line. Blithely Melissa ignored him, oblivious to Caleb’s foul mood. Cassie wasn’t unaware, however but when she quickly protested, mentioning the word taxi, Melissa scoffed, declaring loudly how much she hated to see gas wasted unnecessarily. Surely as a young mother, Cassie felt the same? Then, she somehow managed to hustle Cassie into showering and changing in ten short minutes, making Cassie leave for her appointment a whole two hours early.
Cassie descended the stairs just barely within the allotted time, having selected a deep blue-and-purple-print gauze skirt and a simple white scoop neck cotton blouse.
Caleb gave her one long, brooding look. “Sure hope you don’t catch cold,” was all he had to say. Then, with a terse, “Let’s go,” Caleb stood, only to have to wait some more while Cassie searched for her bag. Melissa was all smiles, telling Cassie she looked lovely. She waved them off cheerfully, but not before calling out to Caleb that he should
show Cassie around town. The curse he’d muttered in response to Melissa’s suggestion made Cassie blush with embarrassment.
So here she sat, in the cab of his truck, feeling miserable, a total imposition. And a bit chilled. She’d planned on grabbing her fleece jacket, but after Caleb’s snide comment about her choice of dress, had stubbornly changed her mind. She refused to ask him to turn up the heater, knowing he’d just give her that superior smirk of his. What was wrong with him, she wondered. Was he angry over her idea to enter Orion in the Hampton Classic? Or was there something else bothering him that he was too pigheaded to discuss with her like an adult? She couldn’t wait, she thought fiercely to herself, until Alex brought her Jeep next week. She was darned if she was going to let herself be depend ent like this for much longer. Maybe while she was in town she’d look into leasing another car, so that Thompson, too, would have a car as soon as she and the kids arrived.
Caleb remained infuriatingly silent in the confines of the truck, refusing to make even a token effort at small talk. As if he were alone. Cassie was tempted to enter into the game with a vengeance and make it a competition of absolute silence. What did she care if he didn’t want to talk to her? But she decided that nothing could be more self-defeating, silly, and immature. One idiot in the car was bad enough.
Therefore, she broke the silence, her voice cool, her words spare. “Is there a car dealership in town that’s not too far from the school?”
“Yeah. What for? Wait, let me guess. You’d rather buy a car than get a ride back from me.” Just glancing at her was dangerous. He’d been careful not ever to do so since she’d descended the stairs, dressed in that simple, yet shatteringly sexy outfit. Even thinking about it, having her next to him was pure torture. No way was he going to let her know.
“Maybe you’re worried I might jump you, lay you down against the seat here, toss that filmy skirt of yours, and have my wicked way with you?” The smile he gave her was thoroughly obnoxious, in contrast to the voice that promised as much as it threatened.