“In the hunt for a law degree. Prosecution side—you know, jailing the bad guys and getting justice for victims.”
She wanted to tell him that the law offered little justice but didn’t want to get into the nitty-gritty of how she knew. “So you’re in law school?”
“Not yet. Just thinking about it. University of Virginia has a good program.”
Despite Kenzie’s rejection of her father, Avery still paid for tuition, fees, and textbooks. He had cut off funds for extra expenses, one of the reasons she’d taken the job with Kaye. During her freshman year, her mother slipped Kenzie a loaded debit card, although Kenzie had insisted, “I don’t want anything from my father, not even his money.” But her mother countered with, “Don’t be foolish. You can’t spend pride and stubbornness.” All true, but she’d used the card sparingly, and put it in a drawer once she began earning weekly paychecks.
“Might take a while to get a pay-as-you-go law degree,” Kenzie observed to Austin.
“Haven’t you heard? Anything worth having is worth the struggle to get it.” He ducked his head beneath Mamie’s neck and flashed his signature grin. Their gazes tangled. Her pulse accelerated. He picked up the hose. “Stand back and I’ll rinse her off.”
Kenzie stepped aside and Austin fanned water over Mamie’s freshly scrubbed body. After the rinsing, Kenzie picked up two curved plastic body scrapers and handed one to Austin, and together they removed excess water from Mamie’s coat. Austin walked over to turn off the hose, and Kenzie stepped back to admire the clean horse. Seconds later, she felt a cold splash of water against her back. She yelped and spun.
“Oops,” Austin said, without an ounce of remorse and with pure mischief in his blue-green eyes.
She threw the soapy sponge in her hand and scored a direct hit to his forehead. “Oops,” she echoed smugly.
“Ah-ah, now you’re in trouble, lady.” He hit her again with a stream of water, soaking her from the neck down.
She shivered when the cold water plastered her shirt to her skin. She picked up the bucket and flung what remained of the soapy bathwater at him, scoring a partial hit. He dropped the hose to duck the bucket she also tossed.
“Missiles? You’re throwing missiles at me? I’m unarmed!”
“You should have thought of that before you started!” Laughing, Kenzie darted to the dropped hose, grabbed it, and, jutting her thumb into the stream, forced an arc of water at him. He tried to dodge it, slipped in the mud, and got soaked. He flung a handful of mud at her.
She ducked, picked up a wad, and fired it at him, then added another blast of water from the hose.
He raised his hands. “Truce! You win! I surrender!”
Kenzie offered a self-satisfied smile. “As you should. Now why don’t you put the clean horse back in the pasture, and I’ll forget to file a harassment complaint with your boss.”
“Yeah, she’s tough,” he said, rising to his feet, wiping mud off his jeans. “And I’m really sorry I took her on.” His grin was anything but contrite.
She was wet but triumphant, and hadn’t laughed that hard since…Before Valentine’s Day. She sobered quickly. Playtime was over. “Please put Mamie in the pasture. I’ll rinse the sponges.” She dropped the soggy blobs onto a nearby cement pad, hosed them down, and stomped on them until the water ran clean and all the laughter and fun of the water fight had vanished.
* * *
—
Austin found Kenzie sitting on a bale of straw nestled in shadows, wrestling to remove the tight band at the end of her soaked plaited hair and fighting to hold back tears. Gently, he asked, “Can I help?”
“I can get it.” She pulled the braid over her shoulder, squinted, and struggled with the wadded elastic scrunchie. “The water made it tighter,” she explained as her fingers fumbled. The knot held fast.
He stepped behind the bale. “Let me.”
“It’s hopeless! I’ll have to use scissors.” She hated that her voice quavered with unshed tears from a sadness that had sneaked up and grabbed her by the throat.
“Hey, who just spent an hour taking knots and snarls out of a horse’s mane and tail? I’ve got this.”
She dropped her hands. He lifted the braid, inspected it. “When I came inside, you looked upset. I didn’t hurt you out there, did I? Because I didn’t mean—”
“No!” she said vehemently. “I’m just…just frustrated with this stupid hairband.”
“I don’t want to pull your hair, so scream if I do.”
He was working to get a smile, or a snappy comeback, but she wanted none of it and kept silent. She felt his gentle tugging, heard him mutter as he held up the weight of the braid with one hand and worked with his other. Somehow his big hands discovered the secret of the band’s Gordian knot, and minutes later, she heard, “Aha! Mission accomplished.” He dropped the offending band over her shoulder onto her lap and threaded his fingers to unravel the tight twist of the braid, flattening and smoothing until her hair hung in loose blond waves down her back.
The way he stroked her hair, this stranger’s hands, weaving, touching, moving with soft surety through her thick locks…She closed her eyes. Practiced hands. Her eyes shot open, and she scooted off the bale of hay. “Sorry I doubted your abilities. Thanks for the help.”
When she turned, his gaze grabbed hers. “Your hair is beautiful. Do you ever wear it down?”
She felt as if the stable had shrunk and the air become too thick to breathe. His eyes were mesmerizing, like a booby trap that would snap back and hurt her. She turned away, breaking the sight-thread holding her to him. “I…I can’t. My hair’s baby-fine, straight as a board, and gets in the way of my work. I’m thinking about cutting it.” That was a lie, but she said it anyway.
“Pity,” he said softly.
She needed distance between them. A lot of distance. She walked outside.
Austin followed and, keeping his tone light, said, “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’d like to get into some dry clothes before we tackle another feeding. Unless we’re going to bathe another horse today. No use changing if we are.”
“No, not today. We’ll bathe Sparkle tomorrow. Why don’t you fill the wheelbarrows with hay for the mares while I go to the house and make us sandwiches? After we eat, you can start Blue’s training.”
He winked, and she darted off, shaking out her damp hair, recalling with a delicious shiver the feel of his fingers lacing through the strands.
“Hi, are you Kenzie?”
Kenzie was readying buckets of grain for the mares’ late-afternoon special feeding and turned to face a woman with brown eyes, brown hair, and a sunny smile. She was on foot and dressed in hospital scrubs.
“I’m Alana Kennedy—Lani. Ciana sent me to meet you.”
“Yes. You’re Oro’s owner, and a nurse?”
“True, but my job has turned me more into Oro’s occasional rider these days. My life’s been so busy this past year I don’t have much time for my old friend. Not like I used to, anyway. Feel free to ride him whenever. Do you have time for a chat?”
“Sure. Let me grab a couple of folding chairs from the tack room.” Kenzie dragged two metal chairs into the larger stable area, offered one to Lani, and took the other.
Lani closed her eyes, inhaled. “I miss the smell of horses and hay and saddle leather.” Her eyes popped open. “After a day of smelling antiseptics, disinfectants, and chemo meds, this place is nose candy for this girl.”
A kindred spirit. “Just last week, I was wishing I could bottle the aroma of horse shampoo and clean horsehide and use it as perfume!”
“I’d buy it!” Lani said.
“We’ll make each and bottle it!” Kenzie said, raising her hands. “We’ll call them Hay Luscious and…” Kenzie searched for another name.
Lani straightened. “I know! Horse Scents
.” Again they laughed at their silliness. “Ciana told me I’d like you, and she’s right. I’ve been trying to get out here for days, but my job kept getting in the way.”
“And Ciana told me you work with children who have cancer. It must be difficult.”
“I love the work. There are bad days, but there are good ones too. We sent an eleven-year-old home today in a second remission from leukemia. When David left, he had nineteen balloons tied to the arm of his wheelchair—one for every day he’d been in treatment. His dad brought him one each day for being brave.”
Kenzie thought back to what her father had once meant to her. No more.
“Anyway,” Lani said, “I came to talk to you about the Trailblazers program Ciana and I want to launch for kids like David and his nine-year-old sister, Cami. She was born with Down syndrome. I believe these two kids are a perfect fit for the program. I went through ‘horse therapy’ when I was thirteen, when my aunt Arie died. I was miserably sad. My daddy bought me Oro, and over time this dear palomino healed broken places inside me. So I know getting close to a horse can help children, just like you help these horses. Two broken things come together—win-win.”
“Sounds ambitious. And like more work for you.”
“I believe in kids and horses, and how they help each other. How old were you when you began taking care of a horse?”
“I was ten. She was a Tennessee walker.” Because of her self-imposed exile, she hadn’t ridden Princess Ronan since…? She backed away mentally. Too long.
“Well, then you know how easily a child can fall in love with a horse. Learning to care for a horse teaches life lessons, and as a bonus, kids gain self-esteem.”
“I do know, but horses also need feed, vaccinations, and vet care…expensive things.”
Lani waved Kenzie’s words aside. “Money for the program will come, and Ciana has already told me I can work from here. Look, why don’t you come by the hospital and we’ll talk, and I’ll introduce you to some of the children I think will benefit from Trailblazers.”
Kenzie’s early memories of hospital stays, tests, and doctor visits were unpleasant. These days, she found the yearly experience less fearful, but tedious, even as an outpatient. “I really don’t like hospitals.”
Lani nodded. “Most people don’t, but—” Just then Lani’s phone sang out from the purse she’d plopped beside her chair. She held up a finger to pause their discussion, reached in, and, seeing the readout, answered. “Well, hello, good-lookin’.”
Kenzie heard only Lani’s side of a brief conversation, but the tone of intimacy was unmistakable. Lani promised the caller she would be home soon and signed off, her eyes glowing. She dropped the phone back in her purse. “My fiancé, Dawson Berke.”
Kenzie eyed the glittering diamond on Lani’s left hand. “Your ring’s beautiful.” Lani held it out as Kenzie admired it. “When’s the wedding?”
“July, the third Saturday. We would have preferred sooner, but every church and venue was filled for June, and—”
“Who are you?” came the sharp bark of Austin’s voice from the doorway. “What’s your business here?”
Kenzie whipped around, saw him looming at the east end doorway, his body in shadows, the brim of his hat pulled low. Friendly, affable Austin suddenly looked dark and ominous.
“Oh! I—I’m Lani,” she responded, startled.
He crossed the space, stood behind Kenzie’s chair, hands gripping the metal. Kenzie jumped up, faced him, anger rising like a wall inside her. “Aren’t you supposed to be with Blue?”
“Finished. He’s back in the pasture.” His steely gaze never left Lani.
Not intimidated, Lani held out her hand and offered a warm smile. “I’m a friend of Jon and Ciana’s. And you are…?”
“Austin Boyd.” He relaxed, came around Kenzie’s chair. “Sorry, didn’t mean to come on so strong. It’s just that we don’t get many visitors back here.”
“Not a problem.” Lani’s smile was forgiving as she stood. “I have to run, but, Kenzie, please consider stopping by the hospital to talk again. I’m sure you’ll have some ideas for Trailblazers. Ciana said you’re smart and kind. I’d love your input.”
Flustered, Kenzie said, “Not sure how I can help…”
“That’s what we’ll figure out together.” Lani tossed the straps of her purse over her shoulder, held up her phone. “I’ll send you a link to our hospital website and our social media, and you can look at our children’s cancer pages, check out the work we do.”
“I…I don’t do social media.” Kenzie’s confession made both Lani and Austin stare at her.
“O-kay…,” Lani said. “I’ll text you my schedule for next week, and we’ll set up a time for you to visit.”
“My phone’s old-school. Not smart. I’m not really a big texter either.” Kenzie squared her chin, knowing she sounded like a freak of nature. Who didn’t text? “I don’t like distractions when I work or study,” she explained hastily. “But I have a laptop and an email address I’ll give you.”
Lani snapped her fingers. “I have a better idea! Dawson and I are having a pool party with friends on Memorial Day. Why don’t you two come? I’d love for you to meet Dawson. He’s amazing, but I am prejudiced.”
“Oh, I don’t think—” Kenzie began.
“Why not? It’s a holiday, and we could use some R and R,” Austin blurted, polishing his words with his heart-melting smile.
“Not a holiday for our horses. They still need to be fed four times a day.”
“According to your schedule and the vet, we can back the mares off to three feedings a day,” he added before she could protest. “Plus, I can get the horses covered by a couple of Jon’s men living in the bunkhouse with me. They’ll check on them for us while we’re at the pool.”
“We’re starting at eleven in the morning, and there’ll be burgers. Dawson’s a grill genius,” Lani chimed in. “Drop in anytime, stay as late as you can. Come on. It’ll be fun. And we can talk poolside about Trailblazers. Much nicer than sitting in the hospital.”
Kenzie disliked being pressured, but Lani’s enthusiasm was infectious. “I guess we could stop by.”
Austin said, “I do have a smartphone, so I’ll give you my number and you can text me details.” He fished his cell from his shirt pocket.
After trading phone information with Austin, Lani flashed Kenzie a smile and, with a wave, hurried away.
Once Lani was out of earshot, Kenzie ripped into Austin. “Why did you think it was all right to make plans for me?”
“Us,” he corrected her. “She invited us. I thought we were a team. That’s the impression you’ve given me. We work together. Why not go to a pool party together?” His expression softened. “Have I slacked off on this job for one minute?”
A rhetorical question. She knew he hadn’t. “I…I don’t like being around strangers.”
“You know me and you know Lani. Two down right there.”
“What about Blue? You’re supposed to work him every day.”
“Blue’s taking food from my hand. He literally followed me around the pen today begging for a treat—‘Thank you very much, Austin.’ ” He tipped his head in self-congratulation.
His update surprised her, because he hadn’t been working with Blue for long. “That’s…that’s progress. Thank you very much, Austin,” she echoed.
Austin touched the brim of his hat, accepting her compliment with only a grin. “When I walked in, you and Lani looked like longtime best friends.”
“And you yelled at us. Scared us both.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. Course, that was before I knew about the pool party.”
The man could be maddening and confusing, but also disarming. Kenzie capitulated. “All right, we’ll go as a team…but just for a little while, so that Lani and I can talk.
”
“I’ll let her know,” Austin said, tapping his phone.
Resigned, Kenzie stepped aside. She had liked Lani—would like her even if they didn’t have a love of horses in common. Stepping out of her “boss” role with Austin was what had spooked her, knowing that she was drawn to him far more than she wanted or needed to be. “And ask her what we can bring to the party. Now let’s get back to work.”
* * *
—
Austin paced outside under the eaves of the bunkhouse while the other hired men slept. He, too, should have been in bed after the long day he’d put in, but he couldn’t take a chance of being overheard. He felt the burner cell buried in his jean’s pocket vibrate—the prearranged phone call. Only two numbers were programmed into the throwaway phone. He glanced at the screen before answering: Caller 1. “Yes, I’m here.”
“How’s it going?” the man on the phone asked.
“Working hard.”
“Has she accepted you?”
“More or less. When we’re not working, she keeps to herself. Prefers being alone.”
The caller at the other end of the line huffed impatiently. “What are you doing about that? Remember our arrangement. She needs to trust you.”
“These things take time. I can’t steamroll her into liking me.”
“It’s imperative—”
Austin cut him off. “I know how to do my job. You said you’d let me handle things my way.”
“And you don’t forget who’s signing your checks.”
Austin tamped down his temper. “Is that all?”
Disgruntled silence. Finally, the man growled, “For now. I’ll call again in a week. You call me if there’s a problem.”
Austin disconnected, slid the cell into his pocket. He felt Soldier sniffing his pant leg and crouched, scratching the big white shepherd behind the ears. “Hey, old boy.” Befriending the dog had been a priority for him. Dogs were pack animals, and while Jon would always be the alpha of Soldier’s pack, Austin wanted to be a trusted member.
The Girl with the Broken Heart Page 4