by Karis Walsh
Rachel asked Corona to canter and nearly slid off her back when the mare bolted forward. Rachel managed to slow her down using her hands and voice, but she felt barely in control of the horse. Her gait was smooth but too fast, and the mare erupted into a series of bucks when the three officers emerged from the barn area and startled her.
“You’re riding my horse,” Billie said when Rachel finally brought the mare to a halt near the fence.
Rachel couldn’t read Billie’s voice. Was she angry, or just stating the obvious in her matter-of-fact way? She had known Billie the longest of any of their fellow officers, having met her on their first morning at the academy, but Rachel knew her the least. Very pretty, with black hair brushing her shoulders and eyes so dark brown they looked black as well. But very private. She had been in the military before joining the force and she looked like she had plenty of secrets hidden behind those intense eyes. Secrets she wasn’t willing to share with anyone.
“I wanted to get a feel for all the horses,” Rachel said. She dismounted and Billie took the reins out of her hand without another word, leading the mare toward the barn. The two men followed. Rachel ran a hand through her short hair. She had hoped to find an ally, not an enemy, in Billie, but she might have blown her chance already. She had been assigned to work with Billie in their first hand-to-hand combat training class at the academy. She had assumed she’d have an easy time since she had five inches and twenty pounds on Billie, but she had been dead wrong. Billie had shown an unerring sense of her opponent’s weak areas. Rachel had gone home that night and cut off her long ponytail, never wanting to be thrown to the ground by it again. She had underestimated Billie back then, but she wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
She trailed after her team. Don and Clark sat on upturned buckets while Billie untacked Corona. Rachel felt at a disadvantage, as usual. She wished she had been finished riding before everyone arrived. She wished she hadn’t spent the morning begging for Cal’s help. She wished…
She could go on and on with wishes, but it wouldn’t do any good. She needed to move forward, take control of her team. She was their sergeant and she needed to act the part.
“When you’re done here, I want to have a team meeting in…my office,” she said. She caught herself before she called it Alex’s office.
Don leaned back against the wall. “We’re all here. Why don’t you just say what you have to say.”
Rachel clenched her jaw. She could insist they walk the few yards to her office, but the battle didn’t seem worth waging. Compromise. “Fine. First, I want to make some changes to our horse-and-rider teams based on your experience levels and my evaluation of the horses.”
Judging by the looks exchanged by the three officers, Rachel was about to face another battle. She hoped she’d win at least one today. “Corona is out of the program. There’s no way we can get her ready in time for the Fourth. She’s too temperamental for police work. Sorry, Billie.”
Billie shrugged, but Rachel thought she saw a glimpse of relief on her face. Billie had to realize, especially after the mare’s performance at the memorial, that Corona would be dangerous on the streets. All of the horses were leased by the department, and Rachel had carefully read through the contracts that morning. She had the right to back out of any lease and return the horse to its owner, and she wondered why Alex hadn’t taken the same opportunity to send Corona home. She hesitated before her next pronouncement, tempted to do what Alex had done and keep the best horse for herself. At least if disaster struck and the unit failed, she’d appear competent on the good-looking chestnut. And no one would question her right to ride Alex’s mount. But she couldn’t do it.
“Don, you’ve only been riding for a few months, so you should have the most trained horse. You’ll ride Ranger, and Billie will ride Fancy.”
“No,” Don said. He crossed his arms and glared at her. Was he so desperate to defy her that he’d rather struggle with the difficult mare than ride Ranger? “I ride Fancy.”
Apparently so. Rachel hadn’t expected him to fight her on that particular change, believing he’d be relieved with the switch. She knew the officers didn’t like her, but she hadn’t realized they hated her so much. She rubbed a hand over her eyes. There was no way she’d be able to make this work.
“I’ll ride Ranger,” Billie said. She shrugged in Don’s direction and looked back at Rachel. “Hey, I’m not going to get myself killed to prove a point. Corona is a beauty, and I’m sure she’d be fun to ride in a quiet arena, but she’d implode if I tried to chase a perp down a busy street. I even told Alex—”
Clark cleared his throat loudly, and Billie didn’t finish her sentence. Rachel saw a small scrap of hope in the admission that at least Billie hadn’t been completely sold on Alex’s decisions. Maybe, just maybe, if she could convince her team that she knew something about horses, Rachel would be able to gain a little of their respect. She was making another compromise by not fighting Don on his decision, but he’d be the one to pay by sticking with Fancy. At least she was so sluggish, she’d be unlikely to run off with him.
“Good,” she said, as if everything had gone her way. “Then it’s settled. All the horses need more training, so I’ll be riding each of them a few times a week. That part isn’t negotiable,” she added when Don opened his mouth as if he was about to protest. “We’ll have lessons weekday afternoons.”
“You are going to teach us?”
Don’s voice challenged her as surely as if he had slapped her with a gauntlet. She wanted to protest, to fight. These officers were older than her and, except for Billie, they outranked her, but she was the most experienced rider. She was angry with their constant questioning, but mostly she was angry with her reluctance to defend herself. She couldn’t convince them she was capable of leading the team and preparing them for their debut on the Fourth because she didn’t believe it herself. She took the easy out Lieutenant Hargrove had given her.
“An old college friend of mine is one of the top polo trainers in the state. I’ve asked her to work with us and our horses until the Fourth.” But Cal wasn’t really a friend, Hargrove had been the one to choose her as the team’s trainer, and Cal hadn’t even accepted the role. Lots of lies. Rachel had grown up with them, telling them, believing them. She thought she had grown beyond the dishonesty, but the truth was too difficult to admit. She’d find a way to make at least some of her statements come true.
“What horse will you ride if I’m on Ranger?” Billie asked.
Rachel sighed. She had called the meeting, but her team had turned it into an interrogation. Although Billie’s question was a good one, Rachel didn’t have an answer yet. Almost a dozen horses had been volunteered by their owners as potential mounts, but Alex’s notes said he had evaluated them all and had chosen the most promising four. Rachel didn’t want to risk her life by riding a horse that hadn’t even reached the low standard set by Fancy and Corona. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I’ll figure out something soon so we can start riding outside the yard. Have you done much riding on the park trails?”
“Except for the service, we haven’t been out of the yard,” Clark said. “Alex said we weren’t ready.”
Rachel agreed with Alex’s assessment for once, but the team had to be ready. “I’m sure we’ll be fine.”
What was one more lie?
*
“Hi, Dad,” Rachel said when her foster dad answered the phone.
“Hey, Rachel. I’m glad you called.” Nelson Bryce’s voice, even over the phone line, sounded warm with sympathy. “We’ve been thinking of you. We watched the memorial service. I’m so sorry.”
Rachel sat down in her worn blue recliner. She propped the phone against her shoulder and reached for the lever to open the footrest.
“Thank you. Did you happen to see the mounted unit?”
“Well, I saw a bunch of inept officers leading some horses around. Is that what you meant?”
Rachel didn’t laugh b
ecause he wasn’t joking. Nelson took horses and their care very seriously, and she had quickly learned not to fool around where the animals were concerned. She had spent hours doing unpleasant and menial chores around the ranch the few times she had erred by putting a horse away without cooling him down properly or doing a half-assed job cleaning her tack or horse. She had worked off her anger and excess energy scrubbing bridles and water buckets and stable floors until she learned to respect not only the horses, but her new foster dad as well.
“Well, as of yesterday, I’m their inept new sergeant.”
There was a pause before Nelson spoke. “I’m sure you can ride rings around them, Rachel, but you don’t have the qualifications necessary for training an inexperienced group of people who will be facing life-and-death situations on horseback.”
Warmth and honesty. Two things Rachel had missed so much over the past weeks. “I know. But I was assigned, so I don’t have a choice.”
“Then I’m sure you’ll make it work. What’s your plan?”
Rachel smiled. If you can’t change a situation, stop moaning about it and figure out a way to make it better. Nelson had taught her that, but she was having trouble following the advice these days. “I’ve been researching training methods for mounted horses, and the previous sergeant, Alex Mayer, left behind a ton of notes. And my lieutenant suggested I ask Callan Lanford for help. I played against her in college.”
“Yes, the polo player. Good plan. The horses will have to be very responsive and maneuverable, and the riders will need to stick on them no matter what. A lot like polo. But I’m guessing she’s no more experienced than you when it comes to the real-life situations a mounted officer will face. You’ll ultimately have to be the one in charge because you understand what it means to be a cop.”
Rachel hesitated. She hadn’t mentioned her disgrace during any of her previous calls. She hated lying—even by omission—to her foster parents, but she had hated to admit her failure even more. “That might be a problem,” she said. She fiddled with the TV remote that was on the small table next to her chair. “I’m not exactly…popular at the moment.”
“Leah and I thought something was wrong. You’ve sounded different for the past few months, but she said you’d talk about it when you were ready.”
“Not much to talk about,” Rachel said. Her throat felt tight, as if she might cry, but her eyes were dry. “I made a choice on a call and another officer was arrested because of it.”
“And you believe you made the right decision?”
“Yes.” At least, she’d been certain she was right. Now, after spending so much time alone and replaying the call over and over in her mind, she wasn’t so sure. Should she have compromised?
“Then I’m proud of you. We both are. Standing firm with your values doesn’t always make friends, but it will earn you respect from the people who matter. Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.”
“I won’t.” Rachel spun the remote in her free hand. She should have confided to her family sooner. For a brief moment, she felt a little less alone, but she couldn’t bring her parents with her every day. And she had lost respect as well as friends because she had stood for what she believed. But she didn’t want to argue with the one person who was on her side. “Anyway, I’m calling because I need a horse to ride. Three of the four horses are acceptable, but I have to send one back.”
“The gray?”
“Yes,” Rachel said. No surprise that Nelson had been able to thoroughly evaluate the horses even after a quick glimpse of them on television. “I’m putting her rider on the chestnut, so I need a horse for me.”
“Hmm…I have some decent horses, but most of them are too small. They’d be strong enough to carry you, but I assume you don’t want to look like a long-legged teenager who’s outgrown her pony.”
“Yeah, I don’t want the bad guys laughing at me while I’m chasing them,” Rachel said. She smiled, thinking of the prints by Thelwell hanging in her old room. Funny cartoons of little kids on fat ponies and leggy adults on skinny ones. “I need to look tough.”
“I do have one horse in mind. Big enough, and long on stamina. He’s not spooky at all, but he’s sensitive to the aids. Racing quarter horse bloodlines, so I’d bet on him against any fleeing criminal. I can haul him over this weekend. Needs a bit of a tune-up, and he’ll be perfect.”
Rachel didn’t delve into the meaning behind the last sentence. But she had to tune-up the rest of the squad’s horses, so what was one more? Besides, she trusted Nelson’s assessment of a horse more than anyone else’s.
“Great. And thank you.” Rachel hung up the phone after chatting about the family for a few more minutes. The tension in her shoulders eased a fraction. She had a horse to ride. One hurdle down, and only a million to go.
Chapter Five
Cal left her bungalow before dawn and walked through the darkness of early morning, guided by the glowing windows of the main barn. Tar and Feathers gamboled through the adjacent fields, occasionally returning to her side only to dash off again after a rabbit or some other small creature that Cal could only hear as it rustled through the brush. She pulled her brown chamois shirt tighter around her body and walked a little faster through the predawn chill. She needed coffee, and she hoped Jack had been the groom in charge of brewing it this morning. Dana’s was strong enough to erode her teeth right out of her head, and Craig never seemed to put the filter in correctly, allowing half the grounds to drip into the pot.
She slid open the heavy barn door and closed it again once the dogs had followed her through. She paused a moment and listened to the rhythmic morning sounds, the rumble of the feed cart and the steady chewing of contented horses munching their hay. This was Cal’s favorite time of day, and it was worth sacrificing an extra hour or two of sleep so she didn’t miss it. She walked down the aisle to the feed room where Craig was measuring out the horses’ rations of grain.
“Good morning,” she said.
“Morning, Cal.” Craig added scoops of vitamins and a joint supplement to the blue buckets and handed them to her.
She carried the feed to the stalls at the far end of the aisle, accompanied by a chorus of neighs, before returning for the next buckets. Except for the initial greetings, she and the three grooms worked silently and efficiently as they fed the impatient animals. Once every horse had its breakfast and the humans had their coffee, there would be more gossip and chatter, but Cal loved the wordless teamwork of feeding time.
While the horses ate, she joined the grooms in the barn’s lounge area. Dana had brought doughnuts, and Cal took a jelly-filled one and her coffee and sat on the arm of the couch. Jack, the Lanfords’ head groom, wrote the day’s activities on a whiteboard that hung on the wall next to the door. Black electrical tape divided the board into columns, and he filled each one with the names of horses that were to be trained or turned out during the day. Cal licked a blob of tangy raspberry jelly that had dripped on the base of her thumb and watched Jack add to the growing list of horses she needed to ride before nightfall. She’d need another doughnut.
“Excelsior has some swelling in his tendon again,” Jack said to Dana. “He’ll need an hour of handwalking this morning. He can go in the small paddock this afternoon, so he doesn’t have room to run around and injure it more. Cal, what horses are you using for this morning’s practice with your friend?”
Friend? Cal wouldn’t call Rachel her friend, yet. Acquaintance sounded too cold. Potential lover? Just right. She took a drink of coffee and felt the grounds coat her tongue. “Damn it, Craig, your coffee is chewy. You’re fired,” she said with a mock scowl before she answered Jack. “We’ll ride Raven and Roman.”
“You should make her ride Grumpy,” Dana said.
Cal joined in the grooms’ laughter. The old gray gelding had been Cal’s first polo pony, bought because her parents believed she would learn more if she had to work for every step of progress than if she had an easy horse to ride. They had been r
ight. After frustrating hours on the hard-mouthed and dull-sided Grumpy, Cal had developed strong muscles in her arms and legs and an even stronger stubborn streak. Every horse since had been simple in comparison.
“I should,” Cal said, smiling at the image of poor Rachel trying to maneuver the gray around the polo field. “Once she finally got him to canter, she’d be three farms down the road before she could make him turn around again.”
The idea of putting Rachel at such a disadvantage that Cal would be able to outscore her without breaking a sweat was tempting, but after the meeting finished, Cal brought Raven and Roman out of their stalls and cross-tied them in the aisle. Both horses were clean from regular grooming, but she took her time brushing them until every hair was in place. She combed Raven’s black tail and separated it into sections, leaving a few long strands dangling as she braided the rest into a tight plait. She had chosen the mare for Rachel because she was handy and responsive. Cal wanted to earn her kiss fairly, so Rachel couldn’t complain about cheating and try to renege.
Cal wrapped the loose sections of hair around the mare’s tail bone and made a few more plaits. The glossy black of Raven’s coat would be a perfect match to Rachel’s dark beauty, but whereas Raven’s tail was coarse, Cal knew from her brief touch that Rachel’s hair was downy soft. She definitely would get her hands back in Rachel’s hair during the promised kiss. Cal shook her head and concentrated on her work. She brought the long hairs that she had left out of the original braid and twisted them around the rest of the tail until a small knot formed. She looped the last twist around the knot and tugged downward, locking the tied-up tail in place so it wouldn’t interfere with their mallets during the game.