by Karis Walsh
“It’s not the same thing,” she said.
“Maybe not, but you don’t let fear dictate what you do. And I won’t, either. Someone is behind all this. The attacks on the horses, me, probably Alex. If he or she is trying to cheat the city out of its land, and is willing to kill to do so, I have to do whatever I can to stop them.”
“I’d have to tie you up to keep you from training these people and riding on the Fourth, wouldn’t I?”
Rachel leaned over and kissed Cal, the pressure of her lips and breasts pushing Cal against the soft cushions of the couch. Rachel pulled away and rested her forehead against Cal’s.
“I’m going to train my team. And tomorrow, we’re taking the horses to the park to prove we’re not running scared. And we’re riding on the Fourth. After that, if you’re still in town, you’ll be free to tie me up any way you want.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Cal had a feeling Rachel might try to keep her from joining the mounted team when they went to the park, so she was up at dawn to make herself indispensable to the team. The police trailer only had room for four horses, so she hitched her six-horse gooseneck to her truck and backed it into place by the barn door. She hung the unit’s saddles over the racks in her roomy tack compartment and got the police horses and Roman groomed and ready to travel. He had been an ideal mount for the lesson yesterday, and his polo training had proved to be a useful base for police work. He was accustomed to crowding and close quarters, and he had quickly learned to hold Jack against the arena wall at Cal’s command. Only Bandit had been more adept at perp-catching, but Rachel had an unfair advantage since she’d been preparing and practicing the lesson for a week. The other three had had varying degrees of success, and Cal knew Jack would be limping for a few days after his encounter with the heavy-hooved Fancy.
Roman was already in the trailer, munching on a net full of hay, when Cal went into the barn and woke Clark. He was sleeping on the cot they’d put in a vacant stall next to the police horses, although Cal didn’t see the use in having him there. She’d been banging around the aisle for over an hour, and he hadn’t heard her, probably because he had been snoring loud enough to drown out her noise. She left him yawning and stretching while she went back to the trailer and loaded Sitka in the stall next to Roman.
She was leading Ranger out of his stall when Rachel’s pickup arrived. Cal could see the shapes of Don and Billie as they emerged from the cab and into the mist-covered parking lot.
“Whatcha doing?” Rachel asked when she reached the trailer.
Her voice sounded sweet, but Cal knew she was about to put up a fight. She walked past Rachel and stepped into the trailer, followed by Ranger. She tied him next to a hay net and hopped out of the trailer before answering.
“I knew you wanted to get to the park early, before it got crowded. I thought I’d get a head start on loading.”
Rachel held out a to-go cup of coffee. Cal recognized the name on its side. The coffee shop was halfway between Tacoma and her farm, and four police officers had been fatally shot while having an early morning meeting there a few years ago. Cal accepted the cup, brushing her fingers against Rachel’s as she took it.
“How nice of you to load the horses,” Rachel said, taking a drink from her own cup. “But what’s that big brown horse doing in the front of the trailer? He’s not one of mine.”
Cal was prepared with her list of reasons why she should go. The main one—she needed to be close enough to keep an eye on Rachel, to help keep her safe—was the only one she didn’t mention. “You and I have both ridden in the park, so it will be better to have two people who are familiar with the grounds and with riding outside of an arena. It’s always best to have experienced riders in front and behind on trail rides. And when Fancy dumps Don on the ground and steps on his head, one of us can chase her and the other can call for an ambulance.”
Rachel laughed. “I doubt she’ll run far. Is there anything I can do to get you to unload that horse of yours and stay here?”
Cal shrugged. “You can try tying me up.”
Rachel patted a little pouch on her duty belt. “Tempting. And I even carry my own handcuffs.”
“If you two are going to make out, will you at least get out of the way so I can load Fancy?” Don asked.
Cal stepped back at the same time as Rachel. Don walked between them and into the trailer with his mare.
“That’s everyone,” Cal said, hurrying to shut the door before Rachel could start unloading the horses to get to Roman. She dangled the keys in her fingers. “I’m driving.”
*
By the time the unit left the park, well into the afternoon, Rachel was freely willing to admit she was grateful Cal and her stowaway horse had come along. Even early in the morning, a mild June day drew a crowd to the Point, and the officers and horses had been overwhelmed by the attention at first. Adults and children had clustered around them, asking to pet the horses and take photos of them. Rachel would have been hard-pressed to answer questions and keep the citizens around her safe while still helping Don, Clark, and Billie control their mounts. Cal had quietly stepped in, giving instructions and a helping hand where needed, freeing Rachel to concentrate on Bandit, and on the PR dimension of her job.
Rachel hadn’t really expected anyone to attack her or the team in the busy park, surrounded by witnesses, and her attempts to dissuade Cal from going with them had been halfhearted at best. She did have second thoughts when they rode to their first stop for the day—the place where Rachel had nearly been run down. Not because she believed Cal might be in danger, but because her tanned face had turned pale as they retraced Rachel’s steps. It had been easy to push through the trees, off the regular path, and follow her clear track to the cliff. Rachel stood at the edge and looked down at the gouge she had made in the dirt, until it disappeared into a clump of sharp-leaved bushes. She was grateful it had been dark when she’d flung herself over the edge because she doubted she’d have been so willing in the daylight. She might have taken her chances with the gun.
They hadn’t found any clues about who had tried to run her down, but they’d certainly established their presence in the park today. And they’d managed to do it without incident. At times, there had been rings of people surrounding each horse, and Rachel felt a hesitant and hopeful sense of confidence about their ability to ride on the Fourth. She had first come up with this idea as a way to prove she wasn’t about to back down, but it had turned out to be an excellent training day.
Rachel glanced over at Cal, sitting in the passenger seat with her head propped against the window and her gaze focused on the passing scenery. She had seemed tired and thoughtful most of the day—probably because she had been up since early morning plotting her way onto this field trip—and she’d accepted without hesitation when Rachel offered to drive the truck and trailer back to the farm. Cal had been amazing today. She had subtly assisted the team, never undermining their authority or doing anything to make them look inexperienced or inept. And once the riders had grown more comfortable, she had backed off and let them work through small problems on their own.
Rachel had noticed how great Cal was with the older kids. The teens and preteens had been drawn to her, and she had talked about horses and polo without any hint of condescension or conceit. Rachel had seen the almost hungry look in some of the kids’ eyes as they got close to the kind of animals that were so often out of reach to them. Cal had seemed happy to share Roman with them, as generous with the kids as she had been with Rachel’s riders.
Rachel slowly maneuvered the huge rig up the winding Lanford Farm driveway. The drive home had been quiet as everyone relaxed after a busy and stressful day. Once they were unloading the horses, however, the reality of their success seemed to finally sink in. They really might make it through the Fourth. Rachel hadn’t fully believed it until today, and she doubted the others had, either.
It was dark once the horses were settled in their stalls, and Billie and Don
got in Clark’s car for the ride back to Tacoma. Rachel got her bag out of her truck and brought it into the spare stall. Guard duty. She hoped it would be a quiet night because she felt like she could sleep for ten hours straight.
“I’m heading to the main house for dinner,” Cal said, leaning on the stall door as Rachel unrolled her sleeping bag. “Want to come?”
Rachel smiled at Cal’s choice of words. Coming would be great. Coming to dinner with Cal’s family was an entirely different matter. Besides, her body was sore and bruised from her fall and the long day in the saddle. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to stay awake long enough for either sex or dinner. Well, she might be willing to try for the first one, at least.
She summoned some common sense. “No, but thanks. Do you mind if I use the shower in the clubhouse?”
“Go ahead. There’s usually some snack food and beer in the fridge, so help yourself.”
Cal turned to go but Rachel stepped toward the door. “I’m glad you were there today,” she said. “I would have had my hands full on my own.”
“I had a really good time,” Cal said. The overhead light cast deep shadows on her face, and Rachel couldn’t tell if Cal was tired or if she had something on her mind. “I’ll see you later, cowgirl. Sleep well.”
“You, too,” Rachel said quietly, even though Cal was already out of earshot.
Rachel wandered through the barn long after Cal left. The smell of horses and clean shavings, hay and saddle oil filled her lungs. Healthy smells. The world outside seemed so dark, but inside the barn was a peaceful world filled with the sound of equine teeth crunching on stalks of hay, an occasional snort, the barely audible rustle of hooves through shavings. Rachel went into Bandit’s stall and leaned against his shoulder while he ate, sharing his warmth and vitality. She finally pulled herself away and followed the dimly lit path to the clubhouse.
The water stung her scrapes, hurt her bruises. But her muscles needed the hot shower, so she stayed in it, swaying gently under the pounding spray, until the skin of her fingers was wrinkled. She toweled off quickly and pulled on some comfortable sweats.
She rummaged through the cupboards and fridge, collecting a bag of chips, one of cookies, and a few beers. She draped the duty belt and riding uniform she’d been wearing over her arm, tucked her haul under the other, and headed back to the barn. She was looking forward to spending the night in her cozy stall, with the sounds of horses surrounding her.
Rachel frowned as she came around a clump of maples and neared the barn. She felt a distinct sense of unease, something wrong. She stopped near one of the trees and dropped her clothes and food on the ground, pulling her gun out of its holster. She crept forward, scanning the barn and parking lot in front of her, searching for whatever it was that had triggered her subconscious alarms.
There. Near the back fence of the shadowed parking lot. A car? Rachel could barely make out an outline, a shape. She backtracked a few yards up the path to the clubhouse and turned to her left, edging around a row of horse trailers. She stood on the tongue of the police trailer, pressed close to its concealing bulk, and leaned out for a better look. Yes, a car. Were there passengers inside, or were they in the barn? Or somewhere else on the vast property, looking for her or her horses?
Rachel searched for a way to get closer to the car. Walking across the parking lot was out. She might as well paint a target on her head. She could sneak up behind the vehicle, but she’d have to go the long way, behind the barn, to do it. She retraced her steps to the maple trees and was about to cross the path and make her way around the outside of the barn when she saw a movement in the aisle. A silhouetted figure walking toward the door. Cal.
The occupants of the car must have noticed her at the same moment Rachel did. The engine revved to life and the car spun in an arc that would bring it right in front of the barn. Rachel sprinted toward Cal, desperate to beat the much faster car.
Cal’s world erupted into the chaos of Rachel’s shoulder shoving her, their impact against the barn wall, the screech of tires spinning on gravel, a single and earsplitting gunshot. As quickly as Rachel had slammed into her, she was away again, running toward the parking lot. Cal stumbled after her, unable to take a deep breath, when a flash of white streaked by her. Feathers. She tried to scream, but her words were choked as she called to her dog.
“No!” she yelled as the dog ran into the car’s path, ignoring Cal’s order as she chased the intruders.
“Feathers, stop!” Rachel’s voice, her cop voice, carried across the noise of engines and barking. Feathers immediately skidded to a halt and reversed as the car sped past her. She ran to Rachel’s side and obediently sat down.
“Stupid dog,” Cal said, kneeling next to Feathers and burying her face in the dog’s furry coat. Stupid, stupid dog who had just risked her life trying to protect Cal and the farm. She kept her face hidden, wanting to hide her tears of relief. She felt a cold nose against her neck, and she reached one arm around Tar, who had sidled close to her.
Cal felt Rachel’s hand in her hair, caressing her, and then Rachel was gone. Cal wanted to go after her. Hug her and thank her for saving her life, for saving Feathers’s life. But she didn’t. She had spent too many years avoiding connection. Trying not to care. Now, in the space of a few weeks, she had felt more than she had in a lifetime. And in the space of a few seconds, she had experienced a range of feelings too intense to process. No wonder she’d been avoiding them for so long.
Cal sat back on her heels. Had someone been shooting at her, or had the bullet been intended for Rachel? From the dark parking lot, and backlit by the bright lights in the barn, Cal and Rachel would have been nearly indistinguishable. Similar height and build. Cal had come here looking for Rachel, too. Hoping to turn out the lights, crawl into Rachel’s sleeping bag, and create a space free from danger, where they were the only two people in the world. But Rachel hadn’t been there.
The two dogs licked Cal’s face, pushing even closer as if they sensed her inner turmoil. Everything in her life had been the same. Training, dating, competing. Her family, her farm, her dogs. Nothing was different, but since Rachel had walked into her life everything was different. Cal hadn’t realized how much she’d changed—how much she’d been changed—until today at the park. She’d worked with the officers until they seemed to settle into their job, handling their horses and the crowds with a quiet confidence she hadn’t seen in them before this day. Then Cal had been able to turn her attention to the people around her. The city kids had shyly approached her and Roman, eager to pet him and to ask questions and stand close to such a powerful, beautiful animal.
One of them, a dark-haired girl wearing scruffy clothes and a guarded, distant expression, had tugged especially hard on Cal. Was this what Rachel had been like as a teen? Cal had been given small glimpses into Rachel’s childhood, and she knew how her foster family and their horses had turned Rachel’s life around. Who would be the one to make a difference in the life of this girl, whose eyes turned from hard and defiant to full of wonder as Roman nuzzled her hands? Cal had been given every privilege in life. Fancy clothes, money, a dream lifestyle. But she was most grateful for the horses. For their quiet and devoted acceptance even when she failed to measure up to her family’s standards. For their companionship when she learned money couldn’t buy an end to her loneliness.
Cal stood up and headed to the barn, with her dogs following close on her heels. She had spent months attempting to train some sense into Feathers, and Rachel had apparently accomplished the task in a matter of seconds. Cal couldn’t handle the strain of caring about Rachel, the stress of knowing she was facing danger every day in her job and in her determination to be true to her ideals. She should walk away from her now. Be glad she’d had this chance to know her, to be changed by her, before they went their separate ways. But Cal couldn’t. She’d been changed too much to go back to her old life. As much as it scared her to feel so much, to be so involved in life instead of looking at i
t from the edge, she didn’t want to stop. She loved Rachel for being so strong, for fighting for her beliefs and values. And she loved her for seeing more in Cal than she’d ever really believed was there. Cal grew more confident with every step. She loved Rachel.
Rachel picked up the uniform and snacks she’d dropped in the dirt. She saw Cal heading back to the barn at the same time, relieved to see Cal’s posture and cocky walk back to normal.
“The police will be here any minute,” Rachel said when they met in the doorway, halfway between the brightly lit interior and the blackness beyond. “You’ll need to give a statement, but I can handle most of it. As soon as you can, you should get to bed.”
“Rachel, I don’t know how I can thank you for—”
Rachel held up her hand. “Don’t,” she said sharply. She fought to soften her voice, keep her guilt and fear out of it. “Please don’t thank me. I’m the one who put you in danger by coming here. By ignoring the warnings and continuing to train the team.”
“You’re doing the right thing. You can’t quit.”
“I can, and I will. Someone already tried to hurt the horses, and me. And now you.” Rachel paused, struggling for control. Her mind kept replaying the scene, except each time she was a fraction of a second too late and Cal was dead. Cal’s concern over Feathers’s safety had somehow managed to divert her attention from her near miss with the bullet. Rachel was relieved about that, for Cal’s sake, but her own mind wasn’t so easily distracted. What if she’d lost Cal? “I’ll get the horses out of here first thing in the morning, get them to a safe place. And I’ll have my letter of resignation on Hargrove’s desk soon after.”
“So, fine. Leave the team,” Cal said. She moved closer and took Rachel’s hands in hers. “But what about us, what we have together?”
Cal’s voice sounded steady, seductive, but Rachel could feel the tremors in her hands. She had caused them, had been the one to put Cal’s life in danger. Her bad decisions had almost gotten Cal killed. Rachel didn’t deserve the tempting possibility Cal was offering.