by Toni Leland
Chapter 8
Garrett Quaid stared out the windshield, paying no attention to the magnificent autumn color along the Ohio interstate highway that would take him to Dayton. In the month since he had taken Kim Kovak’s horse down to the new boarding stable in Westerville, Quaid had felt incredibly lonely. Maybe it wasn’t just the horse’s departure, but also his sister-in-law’s move from the Cleveland area. For all the years that Quaid had lived in Chagrin Falls, only a short drive from Jenna’s house, he’d squandered the opportunities for time with family. Now, Jenna and his nephew, Ricky, lived near Wright-Patterson Air Force Base in Dayton, over 250 miles away.
Thinking again about Bandit, Quaid’s chest tightened the same way it had on the day he’d unloaded the horse at Westerville. He’d dropped the trailer ramp, and Kovak had walked up and disappeared into the dark interior. A loud whinny echoed inside and, a few moments later, the horse stepped into the light, his ears pricked, his nostrils flared, drinking in the new scents and sounds. Quaid’s heart had crashed painfully against his ribs as he watched Bandit nuzzle Kovak’s shoulder, then walk beside her down the ramp. Never had Quaid imagined that he’d become so attached to Bandit, or that the brown gelding’s departure would leave such a gaping hole in his life. Or that seeing Kim Kovak again would be so bittersweet.
His new Smartphone chimed, bringing him back to the present.
He pressed the button on his Bluetooth. “Quaid Investigative Services.”
A woman’s soft voice sounded tentative. “This is Elizabeth Ferguson. Is this Mr. Quaid?”
“Yes, it is. What can I do for you?”
A pause, then a sigh. “I need someone to find out if my husband is having an affair.”
Quaid pursed his lips. Not his favorite type of job, but it came with the territory.
“I believe I can do that. Where are you located?”
“Boston Heights.”
Quaid suppressed a soft whistle. Money.
“I’m on the road right now, Mrs. Ferguson, but I’ll be back in the Cleveland area on Monday. Does that work for you?”
“That will be fine. My husband is away on a business trip, so you may come to the house.”
Quaid heard the steel in her voice. This soft-spoken lady meant business.
“Okay, so can you give me a little information right now?”
“I’d prefer not to discuss personal matters over the phone, Mr. Quaid. Please call me on Monday and I’ll give you my address.”
Later that afternoon, Quaid sat back from his sister-in-law’s kitchen table and smiled. “Jenna, that was delicious.”
She smiled. “Thanks, it’s so good to see you again. That’s the only down side of this move – missing you.”
Quaid nodded, warm with good feelings about this tiny remnant of his family.
Ricky stood up and grinned, mischief sparkling across his freckled face. “I’ll do the dishes so you two can talk.”
Both Quaid and Jenna burst into laughter, although Quaid was a little wary about the comment. It echoed a sentiment that Ricky had expressed last summer on their trip to Washington, D.C. His suggestion that Quaid marry Jenna had been a sad and stunning peek inside the boy’s mind, a revelation of just how much he missed his father.
Jenna sat back in her chair and tilted her head. “So, tell me about this woman you met, the one with the horse.”
Quaid blinked. “Uh, what about her?”
A knowing smile crept across Jenna’s face. “Caring for her horse for three months seems like more than just a kind act. Surely...”
Quaid shook his head, not sure which of the thoughts swimming through his brain should be the one he voiced. “She’s a business acquaintance. We worked a fraud case together, then after she was injured, I just thought it was the right thing to do.”
“What happened to her?”
“She was working at the barn where the fraud allegedly took place–”
“Working? Like a trainer or something?”
“No, she’s a professional equine photographer. She was taking pictures for the barn owner. Anyway–”
“So how were you two working together? Seems like an odd combination to me.”
You don’t know the half of it.
“Just let me tell the story. She’s a retired police officer, so it wasn’t so strange. Anyway, she was helpful in tracking down some people who were involved in a horse theft ring. Toward the end of the fraud investigation, she got hurt and I offered to keep the horse until she was back on her feet.”
Jenna narrowed her eyes. “Retired policewoman, huh? Now taking pictures. Quite a switch.”
“She retired on disability, that’s all I know.” That I’m telling you...too much information here. He grinned. “Why all the questions?”
“I’d just like to see you be happy, have someone in your life.”
Jeez, what is it with this family?
Quaid stood up. “I already do. I’ve got you and Ricky, what more could I want?”
Ricky appeared from the kitchen. “Uncle Garrett, you wanna see my school? It’s close, we can walk.”
Jenna put her hands on her hips. “Well, I’m going to take advantage of this little break and catch up on my reading. You guys have a nice time.”
A few minutes later, Quaid and Ricky strolled down the sidewalk through a tidy neighborhood populated mostly by service families from the air base. The echo of their footsteps was the only sound in the quiet evening air. Ricky skipped along, sending mounds of crisp yellow and red leaves whirling into the air. Quaid watched his nephew, relieved to see the bounce in the boy’s step and the relaxed expression on his small face. He’d been through a lot in his twelve years, not the least of which was losing his father in the Afghanistan war.
“So tell me about school. You make any friends yet?”
“Oh, yeah! There’s this guy whose dad flies a C-17 Globemaster, and it’s so cool, ’cause sometimes his dad takes us to the field and we can sit in the cockpit! And then I have another friend who lives a couple of houses down the street. He’s a computer geek and we play games all the time. He’s not home right now, ’cause he went to his grandma’s for the weekend.”
Quaid chuckled. “Sounds like you have a busy social life. So, what about school?”
With Ricky’s past problems, it was important to Quaid to know if the boy was adapting to his new school environment. The move to Dayton had been a calculated step toward solving the problems that had almost destroyed Ricky after his father’s death. Quaid’s chest tightened. He, too, had been devastated by his brother’s death – an emotional wound that threatened to never heal.
“School’s fine. I have two teachers I like and one that I don’t. Oh, hey, there’s the playground. Can we go in for a while?”
Quaid followed Ricky into the fenced play area. From what he could tell, the Dayton move had been the best thing that could have happened to his family.
Ricky climbed up the monkey bars and assumed a commanding position. “How’s Bandit? Man, that was so neat! I can’t wait to see him again.”
Quaid’s jaw ached with emotion. Neither can I. And what am I gonna do about that?
“Actually, Bandit went to live with his owner last month.”
Ricky jumped to the ground with a flourish, then made a face. “That sucks.”
“Yeah, it does. Hey, we need to head back. I want some of that apple pie I saw on the counter.”
Late that night, Quaid shifted his position on Jenna’s couch and pulled the quilt up around his shoulders. Sleep wouldn’t come as his thoughts bounced from Ricky to Bandit to Elizabeth Ferguson, then back again. Thoughts of Bandit brought thoughts of Kim Kovak, and that made him uneasy. Their relationship had been strictly business – not particularly amicable, and fairly short – but he still found himself thinking of her occasionally. She was one of the sharpest women he’d met in a long time, but her aggressive personality made it difficult for him to relate to her as a woman of interest. Except f
or the brief moment last summer when he’d held her close as she panicked at the surging crowd of demonstrators. Her hard edges had disappeared and she’d melted against him for just a few minutes. After that incident, he’d felt different, and she’d seemed to cross the competitive line that had separated them through the previous weeks. What had happened there?
And then there was Dixie Davis. His face warmed with personal embarrassment at how naïve he’d been. Blundered headlong into what he’d thought would be the love of a lifetime. Thank God Dixie had been gentle and understanding, telling him she was gay without making him feel like an idiot. At least at that moment.
He shook his head and redirected his thoughts to his family.
Ricky’s reaction to the news about Bandit gave Quaid pause for thought. Was it time to consider filling the empty spot that the brown gelding had left? Quaid closed his eyes. He didn’t know, but he’d worry about it another time.
Chapter 9
The morning dawned with a bright sun and startling blue sky. Kim gazed through the deck doors, waiting for her coffee to cool. What a gorgeous day to have her first ride on Bandit. The thought sent a ripple through her stomach. Anticipation? Fear? How long had it been since she’d been on a horse? She inhaled slowly. Over five years. She shook her head and walked toward the kitchen. One didn’t forget how to ride a horse, so why was she nervous? Her thigh gave a sharp twinge, reminding her instantly of the mob scene at that fateful football game. At the moment the bullet tore through her leg, life had changed forever. She set her cup down a little too hard, surprised at her anger. Peeling off her robe as she strode toward the bedroom, her thoughts turned to the future. She was done living in the past, starting today.
The drive from New Albany to Running Brook Farm in Westerville took less than twenty minutes and, while she drove, Kim marveled at her luck in finding such a perfect place to keep Bandit. The initial search for boarding facilities had introduced her to the realities of the expensive hobby of owning horses. Most places where she’d even consider leaving her horse charged what she considered “city prices,” monthly boarding fees that were far beyond her financial capabilities at that point. Then, someone at the physical therapy office had mentioned that a daughter had taken lessons in Westerville, and the conversation had evolved. Running Brook turned out to be a beautiful small farm with riding trails, a barn with fifteen stalls, and both an indoor and outdoor arena. At one time, the owner had bred Morgan horses and trained driving horses, but he had since retired and now maintained his farm as a boarding stable with reasonable fees. Prices that Kim’s disability retirement pension and photography fees could easily handle. But for how long? Without work, she could run out of money real fast.
She turned in to the driveway that ran between the white farmhouse and a maintenance garage, following the road to the horse barn at the rear of the property. Two riders trotted around an outdoor track and Kim’s pulse skipped. She would be doing that soon. Walking toward the barn entrance, she almost couldn’t breathe for the excitement coursing through her head. Inside the barn, she stopped and scanned the stalls. Some were occupied, but most were empty.
“Bandit?” she called.
A few horses poked their heads over stall doors to investigate, but Bandit’s welcoming whinny was absent. A twenty-something boy stepped out of a stall and looked her way.
“Can I help you?”
“Yes, I came to ride my horse today. Bandit, the brown Thoroughbred gelding.”
The boy set a manure fork aside and shook his head. “He was turned out this morning. You need to let someone know when you’re coming so they’ll leave him in.”
“Sorry, I’m new at this.”
“No problem, I’ll go catch him.”
The boy headed out a side door and Kim walked to the tack room to collect her gear. She’d found a decent secondhand English saddle and bridle at an Amish auction, and Bandit already had a good leather halter when she got him. She uncovered the saddle and wiped it down, then collected the bridle and her grooming bucket to head back toward the crossties. She beamed. This felt almost normal.
A loud whinny pierced the air and emotion crashed through her chest. This horse loved her as much as she loved him. And with good reason – they’d been through a lot together. She had saved him from sure death at the slaughterhouse, but more importantly, he had been her salvation. He’d been the healing salve she needed to move on past her beloved Red’s death. How lucky she was to now have Bandit in her life forever.
The boy brought the horse up and handed over the lead rope. “Anything else you need?”
Kim grinned. “Just a whole lot of time in the saddle. Thanks.”
Twenty minutes later, Kim heaved the saddle over Bandit’s back and exhaled sharply. “Good grief, I don’t remember this being such hard work.”
Bandit chuckled in his throat, tipping his head sideways to look at her as she draped the stirrups over the saddle to get them out of the way. Tightening the girth, she squinted.
“You’re getting fat, Mr. Bandit.”
She stepped back to catch her breath, then laughed as Bandit exhaled, leaving about another two inches between his barrel and the girth. The horse knew all the old tricks.
Kim fumbled a little with the bridle; the procedure that had once been routine now seemed like assembly instructions with a missing step. She had unbuckled Bandit’s halter and slipped it down his neck so he’d remain hooked to the crossties, but getting the bit into his mouth was something else again. She managed to get it over his teeth, then under his chin, then finally into his mouth. The brow band popped up over one of his ears and he let out a long sigh. Kim smiled, remembering the horse’s history with pony club kids. The poor guy had seen and done it all. And now he had to put up with her.
Kim glanced at her watch. She’d spent almost an hour trying to get ready to ride. Surely this would get easier. She buckled her riding helmet, unhooked the crossties, then led Bandit over to the side door and out into the sunshine.
As she strained to put her left foot into the stirrup, an excruciating pain seared through her right leg and she almost crumpled to the ground. Tears burned her eyes as she waited for the throbbing to stop. She hadn’t counted on this. A few minutes later, she tried again and the right leg again protested. Worse, her left leg felt like jelly, as though her muscles couldn’t lift her into the saddle.
Bandit reached around and nuzzled her shoulder, making little noises in his throat.
She stroked his neck. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault.”
Turning back toward the barn doors, she led the horse inside. The stall cleaner was just coming back into the barn with an empty wheelbarrow, and she called out to him.
“Excuse me, do you know if there’s a mounting block around here?”
“I don’t think so, Ma’am. Mr. Brooks only taught driving, not riding.”
Kim’s shoulders sagged. “Okay, thanks anyway.”
“You might take your horse over to one of the fences and do it that way.” He set the wheelbarrow down. “Or I could give you a leg up.”
“Could you? That would be great.”
They walked back outside and stopped on a level spot. “I’m sorry to be such a bother, but I had a serious injury to my right knee a few months ago and I just haven’t gotten the strength back. I’m hoping riding will do the trick.”
The boy nodded. “It’s good exercise, all right. I work part time at a therapeutic riding program and it’s amazing what being on a horse can do for some of those folks.”
“What do you do there?”
He grinned. “Stalls, just like here. I’m in college, so I have to work part time around my classes. So, are you ready to do this?”
“More than you know.”
The boy moved up close to the horse. Kim gathered the reins, then lifted her foot.
He shook his head. “No, there’s an easier, better way to do this. Stand close to the horse, bend your knee, and I’ll lift your leg.
”
She gave him a dubious look and he laughed.
“I know, it’s different than it used to be, but it works better – you’ll see.”
Kim did as he instructed, and the mount seemed effortless, but to her horror, her right leg turned into a lead weight and she could not swing it over the saddle. Her knee caught on the cantle and she almost fell, but the boy’s hands firmly supported her hip. He gave her another shove and she crawled into the saddle, then sat there trembling all over.
He stepped back and looked at her earnestly. “You sure you’re ready to do this by yourself?”
She swallowed. “I’m not sure of anything, but I want to try.” She took a deep breath. “What’s your name?”
“Chance.”
“Thank you, Chance. Maybe I’ll get the hang of this quickly.”
A shadow passed over his face. “Haven’t you ever ridden before?”
“Ten years with the Columbus Mounted Police.”
His face broke into a wide grin. “No kidding? That’s what I want to do. I’m studying law enforcement at Columbus State.”
Kim laughed. “Small world. Well, best of luck with your studies. I’ll let you get back to your barn duties now, and I’m going to take this guy for a test drive.”
Chance saluted, then walked back into the barn. Kim sat quietly, intensely aware of her lofty perch. The view from the back of a horse was nothing less than perfect. She glanced down at Bandit’s head. His ears swiveled back, listening, waiting for a cue. He stood perfectly still, as any good schooling horse would. Kim’s right leg throbbed, a deep ache punctuated by occasional sharp stabs of pain. Her lower back began to ache, and worry threaded through her thoughts. Could she do this? Was she strong enough? She knew nothing about this horse, or his real past. He seemed fine, but they weren’t moving yet. Would he run away with her, sense her fear, know instinctively that she wasn’t in control? As these anxious thoughts crashed about in her head, Bandit’s ears flicked back and forth and he shifted his weight.