by Lucy Score
“Lead out and then we’ll tighten the saddles in the yard,” Joey instructed her father.
Apollo nipped at Joey’s hand when she looped the reins over his head to lead him out. “Don’t be a dick,” she told the horse.
“What’s that now?” Forrest asked over his shoulder.
“I was talking to my horse, but same goes,” she warned.
Outside, the sun was slowly starting its late afternoon descent and taking with it its modest heat. Joey tightened the girth on the saddle and did the same for her father. No use having him slide off his mount and start bitching about a lawsuit, she decided.
She led them over to the mounting block next to the outdoor paddock and watched as Forrest swung into the saddle. Satisfied that his seat was steady, Joey swung up onto Apollo’s back and pulled on her riding gloves. She nodded north. “We’ll take a lap around the brewery and loop around the upper pasture,” she told him, before kicking Apollo into motion. “Don’t let Tucker get too close. Apollo’s a kicker. And a biter,” she instructed her father, smugly pleased that the distance would prevent most of the conversation she didn’t want to be a part of.
They walked up the grassy slope dappled with small mounds of snow that had stubbornly refused to melt with the rest. Apollo’s tail swished restlessly with the desire to run, but Joey kept his impulses in check. Waffles scampered out in front of them pausing to sniff whatever caught his attention.
“That’s a fine looking animal,” her father said, breaking what Joey considered to be a comfortable silence.
“The dog or the horse?”
“Horse. But I guess the dog kind of grows on you, too.”
“You been to the brewery yet?” Joey asked, when the building came into sight knowing full well the answer was no.
“No. Not yet. Heard it’s doing well. Maybe I’ll have to bring your mother sometime for dinner.”
Joey wheeled Apollo around. “All right. Just what exactly is going on? All the sudden you’re the Pierces’ number one fan?”
Forrest steered his mount to the left giving Apollo wide berth.
“Every once in a great while people can be not exactly right about something,” he said grudgingly.
“Oh for Pete’s sake. Are you saying you were wrong?”
“I’m not saying that. And I’m not saying I’m sorry either.”
Apologies and her father did not go hand-in-hand. They weren’t even on a first name basis.
“Exactly what is it that you are trying to say?”
“It wasn’t my intention to hurt you. I was trying to protect you,” Forrest said. “That’s what fathers do.”
“Yeah, well, eventually you have to stop protecting, don’t you?”
“Maybe when you’re fifty. You should have it all figured out by then,” Forrest predicted. Joey didn’t think he was joking.
“You’ve hated Jax since we started dating a hundred years ago,” she reminded him.
“I probably wouldn’t have liked anyone you were dating then. Except maybe Beckett. He’s a hard one not to like. He’s a good man, good leader like his dad. Too bad he’s married now.”
Joey felt a blush creep up her cheeks. She was hoping Donovan Cardona hadn’t broadcast that little tidbit about her ill-advised make out session with the middle Pierce to the world.
“Anyway, Jax has grown up a lot since you were both eighteen. He sure loves you.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes love isn’t even close to enough,” Joey said, her breath appearing before her in an angry cloud.
“I’d hate to think that you’d miss out on your chance at happiness with a guy who isn’t so bad just because of me,” Forrest said, keeping his eyes between Tucker’s ears.
Joey sighed as they crested another hill. From here, it looked like they were miles away from civilization. “It’s not just you. It’s him, too. You guys don’t make it easy to trust you.”
“I can’t say a lot about that boy, but all either one of us have ever done is what we thought was best for you. Maybe you could help us all out and do what’s best for you and we can just follow your lead?”
Joey cast her eyes heavenward at her father’s suggestion. He was trying, in his own special snowflake Forrest way. How her mother had not murdered him decades ago she’d never know.
They continued on in silence, the creaking of the saddles the only noise in the late afternoon silence.
“Shit.” Joey said, bringing Apollo to a stop.
“What’s wrong?” Forrest asked.
“Someone ripped up the chicken wire,” she said, nodding at the pasture gate. “It keeps the horses from chewing up the wood. I need to fix that before one of them steps on it and gets hurt.” She looked up at the sky and judged that she had enough daylight to get it done now. “Can you take Tucker back to the stables and get a hammer for me?”
“Sure, where do you keep ‘em?”
Joey told him where to find her tools. “Just tie Tucker to the hitch outside. If you take him back in with you he’ll think it’s dinnertime.”
“Got it. Anything else?”
“The staple gun if you can find it.”
She watched as he rode off at a peppier walk than what they started out on. He’d always had a decent seat. He wasn’t a natural like Evan was, but he had an aptitude and usually ended up enjoying their rides when Joey had been able to talk him into going out. Her mother on the other hand was convinced that horses were domesticated monsters and didn’t like getting any closer than a Facebook picture to one.
Waffles yipped happily at something halfway down the hill and chased after it.
Joey leaned over Apollo’s neck to get a better look at the wire mess. She was already off balance when she spotted the ground hog waddle out of a hole at the tree line just a few feet away. It hissed.
Apollo reared and without being steady in her seat, she felt herself slip.
“Fuc—”
She didn’t even get the full word out. Her head struck something hard and the world went bright white and then disappeared.
* * *
“Son of a bitch,” Joey mumbled. She didn’t know how long she’d been out, but judging by the sun in the sky it hadn’t been more than a few minutes. Her head was pounding, her arm felt like it was being yanked off her body, and there was an uncomfortable pressure in her ankle. She did not want to open her eyes and find herself skewered on a fence post or something gruesome like that. But she needed to grow a pair and look around. If there was a million dollar horse running around free she was going to be pissed.
Something licked her face and she cranked open an eyelid. It was harder to do than she thought. Everything looked funny, including Waffles’ face. The fur around his nose was matted and red. “Crap! Are you hurt, buddy?” Joey said, the words slurring together in an incoherent string. Had she landed on the poor dog?
She moved her hand toward him and saw the red on her glove. Confused, she brought her hand to her head. Even through the glove she could feel the sticky wetness of blood. “Oh, man. That’s not good.”
Waffles whimpered and pawed her shoulder. Joey pried her other eye open and took a good look around. She was screwed. Apollo was not off gallivanting the countryside. He was standing stock still above her, his sides heaving nervously. Her foot was twisted in the stirrup and the rest of her was crumpled on the ground half under the stallion.
“Not good. Really not good.” If Apollo moved an inch, he’d trample her and it wouldn’t be pretty. “I hope that fucking ground hog left town,” she said to herself.
What the hell was she going to do? Her dad would be at least another twenty minutes, especially if the hammer wasn’t in the specially designated hammer spot. It could be a half an hour before he came back. She was out of sight of the brewery and the farm and she was stuck under a nervous horse that, if he didn’t trample her, would probably bite her out of spite.
She looked up.
“Oh my God, Apollo. Do not shit on me.”
She tried to tug on her foot, but it was good and wedged in the stirrup. And the movement only caused Apollo to shift his weight effectively scaring her into a motionless heap.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
She put her hand to her head again and looked at the fresh blood on the glove. “Why do head wounds have to bleed so much? It’s like a freaking sieve.”
Joey dropped her head back to the cold, hard ground and tried to brainstorm. It was like trying to solve world hunger while drunk on a merry-go-round. “Just whoa, okay, Apollo. Whatever you do, whoa.”
Her head was pounding so loud it sounded like hoof beats in her skull.
She was so sleepy. That probably wasn’t good. She was pretty sure sleepiness and head wounds were a bad combination, but she wasn’t sure why.
She felt Waffles tugging on her glove. She wasn’t in the mood to play though. “Not now, Waffles. Mommy’s tired.”
But Waffles wasn’t there anymore and neither was her glove. It was just her and the twelve hundred pounds of anxiety-ridden stallion. It was as good a place as any to take a little nap.
* * *
Jax spotted Forrest when the man rode up to the barn on Tucker.
Forrest gave him a curt nod. It was the friendliest greeting Jax had gotten out of him in the history of their relationship. “Joey sent me back for a hammer and staple gun. One of the horses pulled the wire off a gate in the back pasture.”
“Probably Romeo,” Jax said, holding Tucker’s reins while Forrest dismounted. “He loves to chew on fence posts. I’ll show you where the tools are.”
Jax tied Tucker to a hitch and they started toward the door. “How’s it going?”
“Well, she hasn’t thrown me off the property yet,” Forrest answered. “But you might want to warn Ellery that Joey’s none too pleased with her.”
“I’ll let her know to lay low for a few days.”
Jax pushed the door open just as a gray and white blur of fur hurtled around the corner.
“Geez, Waffles,” Jax said, as the dog ran a figure eight through his legs yipping.
“Waffles was with us on the ride, he must have followed me back,” Forrest said. “What’s that he’s got in his mouth?”
Jax gave Waffles the “sit” signal and held out his hand. The dog dropped the item neatly into Jax’s palm.
“It’s a riding glove.”
“Must be Joey’s,” Forrest said. “I think she was wearing a pair like that.”
Jax examined the glove closer and stooped down to look at Waffles who was yipping again. “Forrest, there’s blood on the glove and on the dog.”
Their eyes met and understanding and fear bloomed sharp and bright between them. Jax was running for Tucker and shouting instructions over his shoulder. “Go to the brewery and get Carter’s Jeep. Meet me where you left Joey and bring a cellphone.”
He swung up onto the bay’s back and kicked him into gear. Tucker, sensing the excitement, launched into a canter.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” Jax chanted to himself. It was probably just a scrape. She was messing with the wire and cut herself.
Waffles was racing alongside him and Jax knew that a cut on the hand was not what he’d find. He felt the cold fist of fear clutch at his gut and urged Tucker on. The big bay wasn’t usually a sprinter, but he mustered everything he had for this uphill haul.
When Jax crested the hill, his heart stopped. He immediately reined Tucker in to a careful walk. He got as close as he dared with Tucker before pulling him to a stop.
“Joey?” Jax called out not loud enough to spook Apollo who looked like he was just looking for a reason to run.
He slid off Tucker’s back and tied him to the post and walked as quickly as he could without freaking out the stallion.
“Joey,” he said again, leaning over her. There was blood in her hair, over her forehead, drying in her eye. Her beautiful, pale face looked like a crime scene.
“What?” she grumbled. Waffles scooted over and curled up next to her, resting his head on her shoulder.
“Joey, open your eyes and look at me.”
“I fell off my horse,” she said on a sing-songy sigh. Some of the fear that had iced in his gut started to thaw.
“I can see that, Jojo. You’re laying on the ground under Apollo.”
“I told him not to crap on me. I think I have a concussion.”
Jax shook his head. Joey never lost her cool in any situation, including this one.
“I think that’s a pretty good bet. Good thing you hit your head and not something else.”
“You’re trying to make a hard-head joke and I think that’s highly inappropriate.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. Listen, baby. I need to get your foot out of the stirrup, but first I have to make sure Apollo doesn’t move, okay?”
“He bites.”
Jax stood up and approached the stallion’s head. The horse’s brown eyes were wide with nervous energy. “It’s okay, bud. You did good. Way not to trample the woman I love,” Jax said, taking the horses reins and securing them to the gate. “Just let me get her out from under you and you can go back to your nice, warm stall.”
He traced a hand down Apollo’s neck, over the horse’s shoulder so the mount knew where he was. “Joey?”
She didn’t answer him.
“Joey,” he said a little sharper and felt Apollo start to shift against him. “Sorry, boy. Didn’t mean to yell.”
Jax nudged Joey’s free leg with his boot. “Joey, wake the fuck up.”
“Jesus, I am awake,” she said with a bad-tempered pout.
“Good. Listen to me. I’m going to pull your foot out of your boot, okay?”
“It’s cold.”
“I know it is. But I have to get your foot out of the stirrup.”
“Gynecologists have stirrups too, you know.”
“I was not aware of that,” Jax said, gripping the heel of her boot in one hand while the other worked her foot free. He could have sworn that Apollo sighed with relief when her foot slid out.
He could feel some swelling in her ankle through the sock, probably a sprain, and was careful to place it gently on the ground.
“Okay, now I’m going to slide you out from under the crap and trample zone.” It wasn’t smart to move head wound victims, but it was even dumber to leave them under a horse that could crush them with one stomp of their bad-tempered hoof.
“I want a blanket,” Joey muttered.
“I’ll get you a blanket. Just let me move you a little this way,” he gritted his teeth and slid one hand under her shoulders and one under her knees. “I’m going to pick you up, okay?”
Waffles sat up and wriggled out from under the horse.
“One, two, three.” Jax picked her up as carefully as he could and carried her a few feet away. He tried to set her down against a fence post, but found his arms just wouldn’t let her go. He was shaking so bad his muscles had locked in place. He tried a second time and she whimpered.
“Tell me what hurts, Jojo.”
“Head. Foot. Arm. Hungry.”
“My poor girl.” Jax gave up trying to put her down when he spotted Carter’s Jeep flying toward them through the adjoining pasture. “Here comes our ride.”
“No!” She grumbled against his shoulder. “You need to put Apollo back. Can’t have seven figures of horse running away.”
“We’ll have Carter put him back,” Jax promised as Carter and Franklin jumped out of the Jeep and came running.
“No. You. Make sure he’s safe.”
“Fuck, Joey, come on.”
“Do I have to go to the hospital?”
“Yes.”
“Then you have to put Apollo back in his stall.” There was no arguing with a non-head wound Joey so he deemed it completely useless to argue with her in this state. So they compromised. Jax rode Apollo back to the stables with Carter and Tucker on his heels while Franklin drove Joey and Waffles down in the Jeep.
The second they
hit the yard, Jax slid off of Apollo’s back and handed the reins over to Carter. “If Joey asks, I put him away.”
“You got it. Go take care of our girl,” Carter said, his face carved with lines of worry.
Jax opened the passenger door of the Jeep. “I’m coming with you.”
“I figured,” Forrest said.
Waffles thumped his tail. “Sorry, Waffles. You can’t go with us. You hold down the fort with Carter, okay?”
Jax thought it looked like Waffles’ lower lip was trembling, but the dog hopped out of the Jeep and wandered into the stable after Carter.
Jax climbed in and shut the door. Forrest put the Jeep in gear and they started down the slope toward the main road. “I promised her no ambulance,” he said to Jax. His voice sounded calm, but his knuckles were white on the wheel. “Carter’s calling the emergency department to let them know to expect us.”
Jax leaned back between the seats and pressed a hand to Joey’s forehead. “The bleeding looks like it’s slowed down a lot. I think she hurt her arm or her shoulder, though.”
“I didn’t hurt it. The groundhog did,” Joey muttered from the back.
“Groundhogs are jerks,” Forrest said.
“Yeah,” Joey agreed with a frown. “Jerks.”
Forrest drove like a Frenchman at Le Mans and had them pulling up to the emergency department’s doors in record time. There were two orderlies ready and waiting with a gurney. “Oh, she’s going to hate that,” Forrest predicted, worry still heavy in his eyes.
Jax had to tell Joey it was just a bed for her to agree to get out of the Jeep and onto the sterile sheets. He weighed his options as the orderlies got her strapped down to keep her steady.
“Listen, give me the keys. I’ll go park the Jeep and you go in with her,” he offered.
Forrest looked relieved. “Okay, you should be able to find us inside. Just follow the cursing.”
Jax thumped the man on the shoulder. “She’s going to be okay. Just keep her sort of calm if you can.”
Jax kept it together until he pulled the parking brake on the Jeep. He put his head on the steering wheel. He must have lost ten years off of his life when he saw her lying there, crumpled on the ground like a forgotten flower. And the blood. The memories came back at him fast and sharp. Once again he was walking into a hospital covered in a good deal of Joey Greer’s blood.