by R. J. Blain
Since when did my parents have stalls?
“That’s the goat barn.”
“I’m sure your goat barn can fit two horses until you can get a horse barn up. What kind of horses are you getting?”
“They’re thoroughbreds from that bankrupt farm down in Maryland. There are six of the poor things about to go to the butcher since nobody else wants them. The cream of the crop were already taken, although nobody wanted the foals. They were only down to three broodmares when they went under. The buyers wanted the yearlings who could be trained to race right away or the trained horses. We’re getting a filly to go with our mare. The foal’s still nursing. He says they’ve got the papers for them, too, so they’re pedigree thoroughbreds. He wanted to take the whole lot of them, but I don’t think we can realistically get it set up. They have to come home today.”
“I can talk to Jerome if you want the whole lot of them. We know people with horse farms if you need temporary lodgings for the other mares and foals. Have you checked their race history?”
“The broodmares never raced, so they’re unproven. They’re bred from winning racers, but they weren’t racers. We can break them to saddle and ride them since they weren’t broken early, too. They’re between five and six years old. I asked, and they should be ready to be ridden within a year.” The excitement in my mother’s voice startled me, as I’d never taken her to be the kind to be interested in riding horses. “I read online some horses can race until they’re eight. We could try the mares on the track after their foals are weaned.”
Mr. Hampton chuckled. “If you want to try your hand at raising racers, I’m certainly not going to stop you. You’ll just have to take care with the foals. You don’t want to start them too early.”
“I read about that,” my mother announced. “I ain’t saddling a horse of mine until they’re at least four, and ain’t nobody gettin’ on their backs until they’re five and only if a vet clears they’re full grown. Maybe six. We can teach them on the ground without a rider until they’re ready to carry somebody without hurting them.”
Goodness. I would need to take care with my parents once I got home, if they’d gone to the stage of having a midlife crisis involving horses.
“How much are your horses going to cost you?”
“Three and a half thousand for the whole lot.”
“All right, go buy your horses, and if you need a trailer, I’ll call in favors and make sure your new pets get to your home, and I’ll get temporary homes for the ones we can’t keep at your place until we get a good setup for them. If you want goats and racehorses, it won’t break your budget, especially not with the stock work my boy’s been doing for you. Bradley, how much can you skim off for their horse budget without breaking their portfolio?”
“I already told you they hit big with the one long-term stock and sold it out before it dipped. Money’s no issue if they need funds for their new horses. It’s the same stock I went in hard on. We got lucky. I invested for them the same time I did.”
Just how long had Bradley been playing the stock market for my parents? Obviously, I needed to do more snooping into their private matters. Also, I would need to make use of his money-making skills.
I wanted to be able to buy a whole herd of horses as a rescue on a whim, too. And goats. I hadn’t even met my first few goats, and I already wanted more.
“I’ll text you,” my mother promised. “Bring my little girl home when she’s ready. If I’m going to have a bunch of horses around here, I’ll grab an extra so your little boy can ride a horse, too. Wake her up long enough to see what her favorite color of horse is, and we’ll see if there are any at the sale barn. It looks like I’m running an animal rescue, so who cares if it’s a good horse if it’s the right color?”
Bradley shook my shoulder, and he persisted until I cooperated and grumbled curses at him. “What’s your favorite color of horse? I don’t want you mother to kill me.”
I dug through my librarian knowledge in search of a color, one that might keep my mother busy for more than five minutes. Then I dredged through the little I knew of the colors and picked a pair of colors I thought had seemed pretty. “Dun or buckskin.”
As far as I could remember, there were differences between duns and buckskins, but if not, I’d get a color I liked.
“Dun or buckskin,” Bradley reported. He gave my shoulder a rub. “Go back to sleep, Janette. Your mom is expecting you home in a few weeks, and she’s planning presents.”
I yawned, burrowed into my nest, and covered my head with the blanket.
“She’s just about gone again already. She burrowed, and I don’t think she’s coming out again for a few hours.” Bradley took the time to tuck the blanket around me again. “I like this. She’s a lot easier to get up without the medications she was taking. No heart attacks waiting to see if she’s going to react to the drugs again.”
“Good. Now, what in the world is a dun or a buckskin?”
“No idea,” my fiancé admitted. “Dad? Any idea?”
“Tan or golden coats with black tail, mane, and ear tips, and they have dark socks, too. Duns are based on a different gene, but they’re very similar in how the horse looks. I’ll help you check the market for one. Riding would be a good physical therapy option, especially since her foot is healing. And with how much she likes animals? We’ll have her haunting your place most weekends.”
“Excellent. We will go forth and find her a good horse of the right color. We’re also going to get some barn cats. I found a lead on several litters of kittens with their feral mothers, and they’d make wonderful barn cats. Just have to get them taken care of, get their trackers installed, and make sure we protect them against the local wildlife. It’ll be a challenge.”
“I see you have decided to start a zoo.”
“We got the farmhouse, so why not have a farm?” My mother sighed. “I best be getting off the phone and get this place ready for the latest residents. If she’s not up for a phone call, let her know we don’t mind none, because she’s more of the kind to come crawling home so she can look sad and hope for forgiveness.”
No kidding.
“Tanya, is there any reason you’re unleashing your southern accent today?” Mr. Hampton asked.
“I haven’t had coffee,” my mother reminded him.
“Go have coffee. Please.”
My mother laughed, wished the Hampton men well, and hung up.
Bradley poked my side. “I know you’re playing dead, so you may as well fess up and stop pretending.”
How had he busted me? I peeked out from under the blankets. “How did you know?”
“You have a faint snore right after you fall asleep. You were quiet, so I figured you were playing dead and dodging talking to your mom because you’re scared of rejection.”
Double busted. “I do not want to be rejected right now, Bradley.”
He reached over and gave my shoulder a squeeze. “We’re not going to reject you. It’ll work out, you’ll see. Now, settle in and get some sleep. If you need me, wake me up. If you need to be close, we won’t tell a soul if you end up crawling into bed with us. And if you want me to crawl into bed with you, I’m game.”
I scooted towards the other edge of the bed. “Save yourself having to change beds, and for the sake of my pride, maintain silence. We never speak of this ever again.”
“I won’t say a word,” he promised. “I’m going to take a quick shower, and then I’ll be back. Dad’ll be nearby if you need him, all right?”
“Bubble baths are better than showers.”
He laughed. “Would it make you happy if I took a bubble bath?”
“Only if you’re relaxing with a book.”
“I have your e-reader, and it’s waterproof. I’m sure there’s at least one good book on there,” he teased. “But I shall do as you wish and take a bubble bath with a book and relax for a while. I’ll even turn on the jets and the heaters and be properly spoiled.”
&nb
sp; “We have a jet tub in here?”
“Fortune smiled upon us. This is a nice hotel, and I was willing to pay for a good room,” Bradley’s father said, and he laughed. “You want to take a bubble bath now, too, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I groaned, worming out from under the blanket and swinging my legs off the bed. I got up, leaned over, and grabbed Bradley’s hand before marching in the direction of the bathroom, dragging him along with me, although he didn’t put up a fight. He held me back long enough to grab my big purse, which had survived as promised. “Don’t wait up for us, Mr. Hampton.”
“I think I will enjoy a book and get some sleep. Just keep your bathtub adventures quiet. Bradley, if she takes a nap in the tub, make sure she doesn’t drown, get her into her pajamas, and tuck her in. There is birth control in your purse should you decide to indulge. Just keep that portion of your adventure quiet. I’m an old man with a weak heart.”
I halted, turned, and narrowed my eyes. “Do I need to do some work on you?”
“I’ve been seeing doctors appropriately, but you can satisfy yourself with a proper checkup after you’ve gotten sufficient sleep. So, yes you do, but it can wait. I have my medication, and I’m taking care.” Mr. Hampton got up, went to his briefcase, and pulled out an e-reader. “Have a good time, kids.”
I planned on it.
Bradley had gotten himself an e-reader just like mine, and while we shed our clothes and shared a tub, I limited my display of interest in his person to snuggling close to his side while browsing my digital book collection. As I’d always expected, a lean man lurked beneath his clothes, and I looked forward to exploring him when exhaustion didn’t weigh me down. I’d grown so accustomed to medical staff seeing me in various stages of undress I’d forgotten how to be embarrassed without a thin barrier of clothes blocking his view of me.
Sometime after settling in with an old-fashioned western, I glanced up from my book and asked, “Have I ruined bikinis for you yet? We did that slightly out of order.”
“Bikinis are mysterious, and just because I’ve seen you naked does not mean the allure of a bikini has been ruined,” he replied without looking up from his book. “And right now, our clothing is in bubble format. I’m waiting for you to fall asleep so I can dry you off, wrangle you into your pajamas, and tuck you into bed. I have a slight advantage. I caught a nap on the plane. I figured rather than indulging in anxiety and apprehension, I would catch a few winks in case you were actually there. And look, you were. I’m surprised your mother was as laid back as she was, though.”
“Me, too. Your dad made it sound like she was really miffed with me.”
“Well, that’s the impression I was under, too. I’m thinking she was more miffed with me for not dragging you back home sooner.”
I would need to have a talk with my mother to make certain she didn’t actually have a problem with Bradley. “Well, it’s certainly not your fault. I did go to a dinner meeting with a senator. I invited trouble. I do deserve to be yelled at a little for that.”
“There are things I’d rather be doing than yelling at you over doing your job. I’m sure I’ll be able to come up with something mutually beneficial, which will require we delve into the dark depths of your purse for the birth control our parents have been squirreling away in there. Also, I’m pretty sure there are more condoms than any one couple needs at one time in that thing. Considering I located your stash of various adult entertainment products under the bed, I think we’re covered across the board. I didn’t have the heart to tell our parents we already had a healthy supply of condoms.”
I giggled at the thought of our parents trying to send a hint about what they wanted us to be doing. “They’ve been putting condoms and birth control in my purse?”
“Yep. Since most of your guns are locked up at home, I think they wanted to fill the space with something else. I did manage to get Lenard to give me Prejudice. She’s in your purse. We even did all of her paperwork to get her into cargo on the plane, and when we arrived, we made sure she was in a locked case so we stayed legal until back in your possession. I have your Federal license with us; everyone who qualified was issued a permit. The cell laws override most state rules on concealed carry, so you’ll be able to keep her with you. I just couldn’t carry your gun on the plane.”
“That implies you could carry your gun on the plane.”
“It’s one of the perks of being in a cell. One of the downsides of being in a cell is that we can be recruited by law enforcement if needed. My mother got certain upgrades on our cell. Now that you’re back, we’ll be able to make use of them.”
“Upgrades? What upgrades?”
“The Federal concealed carry permit is one of them. It’s basically a fancy license that informs the states that they can’t charge us for having concealed weapons if we’re working. We’re currently listed as actively working on a case with jurisdiction in all states and US territories. That was issued after your kidnapping. We can also work with the FBI and local law enforcement if we think we might be onto a hot lead. Right now, we’re paper shuffling. We got access to the full files of the shootings a few weeks ago, so Beatrice and Mickey are working on making sense of it all. Once they’ve gone through everything, we’ll start at the very beginning and do a top to bottom of financials, the murder locations, and so on.”
“Wait, you got full access to the FBI’s files on the shootings?” Senator Westonhaus’s warnings stirred in my memories, and for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out how it would benefit the government to give us more intel if they were behind the killings. “You have the financials of the victims?”
“Yeah, that one surprised me, too. Ultimately, the FBI is involved with the regulation of the cells, and they can opt to treat a cell as an unconventional group of agents, offering additional privileges. Since we check off so many of the general boxes for qualifications, we got upgraded. It also means the FBI might hand us cases they can’t investigate on their own. We’re supposed to handle one such case a year. We did one already.”
“You did? What sort of case?”
“It was doing some undercover work checking into a money laundering outfit. Pretty easy stuff, actually. We just had to go to the shops they’d identified while wired, then run the serial numbers of the cash we got to determine if the bills were stolen. Whenever we got confirmation of stolen cash, we’d do a few more hits to see if we got more stolen cash. Once we had enough proof of wrongdoing, the FBI would take over to gather additional evidence and close out the case. Not exactly glamorous work, but it benefited everybody. We got to see real investigations up close and personal, learn new tricks of the trade, and we got a few lessons on how to prepare to handle our own case. I think they want to use us as a test to see if the cells can be cultivated to become a functional branch of the FBI.” Bradley sighed, set his e-reader aside, and stretched out in the tub. “We have so much to bring you up to speed on.”
“Almost nine months.”
Bradley worked his arm around me and pulled me closer to him. “It’s pretty remarkable, really. You literally vanished without a trace. We’ve been searching for months, and nobody had been able to find a single clue about your whereabouts.”
“They had an illusionist.”
“A good one, apparently. I just don’t understand why. And to do so much work on your foot?”
I thought about that for a few minutes, relaxing against Bradley and lifting my battered right foot out of the bubbles so I could admire it and all of its scars. “I remember there being an infection, before they operated and fixed the whole thing. I went through at least two different rounds of antibiotics, and I guess whatever meds they were giving me did an even better job of disrupting my magic than the bracelet, since I turned that off whenever I tried to look at my foot. It was just something I couldn’t fight. I guess the only way to fix the infection was to cut my foot open? And at that point, if it was the group behind the murders, they had the right people needed to work a
miracle, right?”
“It disturbs me that it’s entirely possible that’s the case—or you’ve been kidnapped multiple times without knowing it.”
“I only remember the one place.”
“But if an adept illusionist was working on you, they could have moved you around a lot and tricked you with illusions. A skilled illusionist can overwrite reality.”
I winced, as I hadn’t considered having been moved around. “They would have had to move all of the books, too. Those were real.”
“They were probably real,” he conceded. “Still, I resent I am somewhat grateful right now. You’re walking without a boot, and while I caught you limping, I think it was more out of habit than pain. You didn’t look like you were in a lot of pain. You looked like someone who had been on your feet a little too long and needed to take a load off, not like before.”
I bobbed my head in agreement. “I also resent my general gratitude. How dare these kidnappers make me be at all grateful?” I pointed at my foot. “I have new scars, and they’re beautiful.”
We spent several long minutes staring at my foot. Finally, Bradley nodded. “They do have a certain charm to them, don’t they?”
“I bet it’s going to hurt like a fucking bitch in the winter.”
“While I don’t want you to be in any pain, I look forward to being able to carry you around like you’re a princess. Our new apartment has a fireplace, so I will enjoy cuddling up with you in front of the fire while your feet warm up.”
“Wait. Our apartment has a what?”
“Fireplace.”
“Who did you rob to get an apartment in New York with a fireplace?”
“I didn’t rob anyone.” Bradley laughed. “Why do you think I robbed someone to get us an apartment with a fireplace?”
“We live in New York, and I have apartment hunted in New York before. I’d have better luck finding a unicorn. The unicorn is probably cheaper.”
“I will not dispute the cost factor. Our apartment is not cheap. It’s spacious, there’s a tub a lot like this one in it, and there is a fireplace. That tub is why I have this e-reader. I can read in the tub, and I’m looking forward to many a night of you reading in the tub with me.”