Cut and Run

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Cut and Run Page 9

by Amy Elizabeth


  She shook her head. “I’m fine.”

  “Take the damn jacket!” he shouted, fairly throwing it at her.

  Rebecca slid her arms into the sleeves and wrapped it tight around her chest, grateful for the warmth it supplied. As Alec pulled ahead of her, his saturated shirt clinging to his back, she felt an unexpected twinge of guilt. She knew that bringing the mare to the ranch was the right thing to do, but at the same time she realized it was one more responsibility he didn’t need.

  At last they arrived at the barn and dismounted in the mud, shielding their eyes against the downpour. As they scurried for the shelter of the aisle, Roger emerged from the office.

  “What in the world…?”

  “I need blankets and de-wormer,” Alec said, using the same calm but commanding tone an emergency room physician would use. “Get a warm bran mash started. And get someone down here to untack our horses.”

  While Roger dashed into the storm, Rebecca placed Pumpkin and Onyx in their stalls. Alec tied the mare in the wash rack before he removed his hat and holster and rolled up his sleeves. She took off her own hat and pushed her dripping hair out of her eyes, debating whether she should help him or stay out of his way. She stood back and watched as he ran his hands down the mare’s hind leg, intently focused on the lacerations. Then she realized that the only things she was intently focused on were the sinewy muscles in Alec’s forearms.

  Are you insane? she scolded herself.

  “What can I do to help?”

  His answer was surprisingly civil. “Run a bucket of warm water with the antibiotic shampoo. And get the jar of furazone in the tack room. It has a yellow–”

  “I know what furazone is.”

  She returned a minute later with a bucket of suds and the jar of wound ointment. He took two sponges off the wash rack, dipped them in the bucket, and handed one to her.

  “She may try to kick or bite, so be careful. There’s no way of knowing what she’s been through.”

  Methodically they cleaned the mare, scrubbing away the caked-on mud and removing the burrs from her mane and legs. She stood motionless with her head hung low, exhausted from the journey home. Rebecca and Alec passed the ointment back and forth, dabbing it on the mare’s encrusted wounds. They worked in silence on either side of the horse, completely engrossed in the task.

  “Good Lord,” Tommy said from behind them. “Where’d you find her?”

  Alec didn’t even glance up. “On the McClellan’s old property.”

  “What can I do, boss?”

  “Untack Pumpkin and Onyx and get them dried off. And then get a stall ready for her.”

  Rebecca turned to Alec. “How old do you think she is?”

  He cast a knowledgeable eye down the mare’s back before gently pulling her lips up to study her teeth. “Still young. Six, I’d say. No more than eight.” He frowned in concentration. “McClellan’s had all their stock tattooed and branded, so she’s not one of theirs. I have no idea where she came from.”

  They finished bathing the mare before giving her a thorough rubdown with dry towels. Roger appeared with a tube of de-wormer and ejected it into her mouth. Then he presented a small bucket of oats and bran for the horse, which she eagerly gobbled.

  While she finished eating, Roger eyed her hooves. “Those need some serious work.”

  “Tomorrow,” Alec said, giving the mare’s neck a pat. “She’s been through enough for one day.”

  Tommy appeared behind them. “The stall next to Pumpkin is ready.”

  “Thanks, Tommy.” Alec turned to Roger. “Call Dr. Truman and get him out here first thing in the morning.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Tommy and Rebecca, I want you to take turns checking on her through the night. Do you know the signs of colic?” he asked Rebecca, who nodded confidently. “Good. If we can get her through tonight, she’ll probably be alright.”

  Alec’s expression softened as he ran his hand down the mare’s nose and unclipped the crossties. Everyone stood back as he turned her around and led her down the aisle to her stall. Rebecca followed behind and watched as he removed her halter and continued stroking her, speaking quiet words to calm her in her new surroundings. Tommy and Roger headed back to work as Alec closed the stall door and leaned against it, silently observing the mare. Rebecca smiled when he reached into his pocket and produced a sugar cube, which the horse nibbled from his hand.

  “What was that out there today?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “The way you were with her. The way you approached her and got her to trust you. How did you do that?”

  He kept his gaze fixed on the mare. “It was nothing. Anyone who knows horses could’ve done it.”

  She didn’t buy it. “Alec, you’re a terrible liar.”

  He looked at her sideways, seemingly surprised by her comment, before he gave a modest shrug. “When my father toured, he used a lot of natural horsemanship techniques in his shows.”

  “So you learned some of his methods, then?”

  “It’s more like an inheritance.”

  When he didn’t elaborate, she realized he wasn’t going to. After a moment, she shrugged off his coat and handed it back to him. “Thank you.”

  “For the jacket or the mare?”

  “Both.”

  Alec accepted her response with a polite nod before he turned and strode down the aisle. Rebecca felt another surge of guilt when she saw that his shirt was still filthy from her little stunt earlier that day. How could she have known that only hours after she humiliated him in front of his entire staff, Alec wouldn’t hesitate to step between her and a pack of ravenous wolves?

  *

  Rebecca’s alarm sounded at midnight for her first shift of checking on the mare. Wearily she dragged herself out of bed and down to the barn, relieved to see that the mare was standing in the corner of her stall. Her alarm went off again at four, and she repeated the process. This time the mare was lying down on the shavings, resting peacefully. She studied the horse for a few minutes before crawling back to bed.

  She awoke hours later to a knock on her door. Kevin stood on their porch, leaning against the doorpost and sending her his most alluring smile. “At long last, we’re alone.”

  She groaned. “I’m so not in the mood for you.”

  He chuckled and shifted his stance. “Relax, Boston. I’ll give you a break just this once. Dr. Truman’s here and Alec sent me to come get you.”

  Two minutes later, she jogged into the barn, where Alec and Roger stood with a silver-haired man. She watched as the vet drew blood samples from the mare and gave her a series of injections. Then he studied her teeth and listened to her gut, took her temperature, and inspected her legs and hooves.

  “Aside from the obvious, I think she’ll be just fine. It’ll probably take a good couple of months for her weight and coat to come back. I’ll run all the usual tests to make sure we’re not dealing with anything serious. And she needs to see a farrier as soon as possible.”

  “That’s me,” Roger said. “It’s next on our list.”

  “Good. Keep her quiet for a couple days until I get the results back. You can turn her out in a week or so if you think she’s ready.”

  After Dr. Truman left, Rebecca accompanied Roger into the farrier shed and watched as he clipped the long-overgrown hooves back to their proper shape. “I’m not going to trim them too short, you see?” he said, indicating the long toe. “She’s been walking around with them like that for so long, it could really trip her up, not to mention make her footsore.”

  When he was finished, Rebecca led the mare out into the late morning sun and let her graze for a few minutes near the front pastures. Greedily she tore up mouthfuls of grass, looking much more alert than she had yesterday.

  “How’d she do for Roger?”

  She turned to see Alec approaching her. “She was great,” she replied. “Didn’t fuss at all.”

  “Glad to hear it.” He sto
pped beside them and smoothed his hand over the horse’s hindquarters. “My father was asking about you this morning. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I think he’d like it if you stopped in today.”

  She nodded without hesitation. “I’d be happy to.”

  He looked relieved. “Good. He’ll be glad to see you.” His gaze returned to the skinny horse. “We’ve got to give her a name.”

  She studied the horse’s appearance for a minute, trying to identify any prominent features. “What about Star?” she said, brushing aside the mare’s forelock to reveal the diamond-shaped marking between her eyes.

  When Alec didn’t respond, she looked up at him, only to find an amused smile on his face. “What is it?”

  “I’m still getting used to your accent. For a second there, I thought you were suggesting we name her Stah.”

  Rebecca’s mouth dropped open. “Are you making fun of me?”

  To her astonishment, he blushed. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

  *

  Walter’s wheelchair was in the same place on the porch when Rebecca made her way up the steps of the farmhouse. He still looked withered beneath the old wool blanket, but his eyes seemed brighter than she recalled.

  “Hi there, Rebecca. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

  “You, too, Walt,” she replied, taking a seat in the rocking chair next to him. “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?”

  “Always is after a good storm.” He gave one of his rare smiles. “How are you enjoying Wyoming so far?”

  “I love it. It’s so different from back home, but in a good way. It has to be one of the most beautiful places on earth.”

  “I agree. Not that I ever got to see too many other places, mind you. Did a bit of touring around the west, but that was ages ago. You done much traveling?”

  “No, I’d never left New England before last week. I always wanted to travel, though.”

  “Well, you’re here now.” He paused to clear his throat. “Alec told me about the mare y’all found yesterday. Thinks she’ll be a good-lookin’ horse when she gets some weight back on her.”

  “I think so, too. We’ve decided to name her Star,” she said, careful this time to enunciate the ‘r’ at the end of the word.

  “Glad you wouldn’t take no for an answer. He said he didn’t want to bring her at first, so good for you for standing your ground. I don’t know what goes through that boy’s head sometimes.”

  Rebecca gave a rueful grin. “That makes two of us.”

  A comfortable silence enveloped them as Walter gazed out over his land. She leaned back in her chair and studied his weathered profile, trying to imagine him before his fall. She could picture him healthy and robust, spending long days working alongside Alec–not entertaining tourists with silly trail rides and barbecues, but working the land and the animals like the generations before him. She envisioned the two of them sleeping out under the stars on a cattle drive or sharing a quiet meal in the farmhouse. Then, not for the first time, she wondered what had happened to Mrs. Westin and why two people like Walter and Alec had no one to rely on except each other.

  She decided to stick with a safer topic of conversation. “Alec told me that you used to showcase natural horsemanship techniques. What exactly is that?”

  “I wish I could explain it in words. Lord knows I’ve tried to over the years. It’s getting a horse to respond to you without artificial aids–no bits or spurs, no ropes or whips. But it’s more cerebral than just a set of hand signals and body language, or else anyone could do it. People used to flock to my seminars, thinking they were going to learn some type of magic trick to get better performances from their horses. But the thing is, there is no trick.”

  She nodded in understanding. “It can’t be taught.”

  Walter raised a brow in her direction, the most expression she’d seen yet on his face. “Alec tell you that?”

  “More or less, yeah.”

  “He’s right. It’s a gift, a very rare one, and he’s got it, too. I’ve never actually heard him admit it.”

  “He didn’t admit it, not really. He still gave you the credit. But I saw it yesterday, the way he interacted with this mare, and it was one of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen.” She leaned forward and rested her chin on her hands. “So will all horses respond to it, or just certain ones?”

  “Just certain ones. Depends on the person, too. Me, I usually clicked best with problem horses that had been poorly trained. That’s why my seminars were so popular–people brought their horses from miles around to have me work out their kinks.”

  “And Alec?”

  “No, he’s different. He’s a nurturer. Give him a horse that’s damaged somehow, and he’ll crawl right inside their head and sort ‘em out.”

  Rebecca mulled over his explanation. Nurturing was not a trait she’d choose to describe Alec–until she thought of the way he acted around Walter.

  Her thoughts were interrupted when the nurse emerged with a tray of food. “Oh, look at this, Walt! You have a visitor today.”

  “Yes, I do. Lucy, this is Rebecca. Rebecca, Lucy.”

  “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “You, too, honey,” Lucy replied, turning her attention back to Walter. “Now where would you like to have lunch?”

  Rebecca stood. “I should go.”

  Walter’s eyes met hers. “Thank you for coming to see me. I don’t get much in the way of company.”

  Her heart went out to the old man. She started to reach for his hand, but she stopped herself when she realized that he wouldn’t be able to feel her touch. Unsure of what to do, she leaned over to kiss his forehead.

  “It was my pleasure, Walt.”

  *

  As it turned out, Tommy accompanied Alec that afternoon to finish repairing the fences. The trails were still soggy from the downpour, so the trail rides were replaced with roping lessons in the corral. Since Rebecca had yet to learn anything about roping cattle, Roger suggested that she assist Kevin with the lesson.

  “Just watch the pro in action, babe,” Kevin said as they approached the corral. “I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

  Rebecca rolled her eyes and took a seat on the bleachers, joining the dozen guests that had turned up for the lesson. She couldn’t really assist him, since she was as clueless as the guests were, but she was eager to try it once everyone dispersed.

  Kevin seemed just as eager as he sidled up next to her. “So…do you have a boyfriend back home?”

  She was amazed he hadn’t brought it up sooner. “Nope.”

  “Hmmm. I find that hard to believe.”

  “Are you going to show me how to do this or not?”

  He chuckled. “Geez, lighten up, would ya? I’m just trying to make conversation here.”

  She glared at him as he handed her one of the lassos. “Hold the excess in your left hand, like this,” he said, sliding around behind her. “The knot and loop go in your right hand.”

  Rebecca’s jaw tightened when he draped himself across her. “Seriously, Kevin,” she warned, elbowing him in the gut. “Get off me.”

  He smirked as he took a step back and crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re feisty, Boston. I like it.”

  She groaned and began twirling the lasso, surprised to discover that it was easier than it looked. It only took her two tries before she secured the lasso around the practice horns.

  “You’ve got a knack for it,” Kevin said as she roped the horns for the third straight time. “Now you just have to learn to do it on a galloping horse.”

  Rebecca didn’t particularly want to spend any more time with him, but he was a terrific instructor and she needed all the help she could get. “Lead the way.”

  They gathered their grooming supplies and cross-tied Joker and Pumpkin in the aisle. She tried to shake it off, but she could feel Kevin’s eyes watching her as she worked. When she couldn’t ignore it anymore, she lifted her head and gave him a pointed l
ook.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” he replied nonchalantly. “Just wondering what his name is.”

  “Whose name?”

  “The guy who made you so jaded.”

  His words struck her like a slap in the face. When she failed to respond, he flashed a debonair smile. “Why so surprised, Boston?” he continued, easing his way towards her. “I know that look when I see it. Gimme a chance, and I’ll make you forget all about him.”

  Rebecca responded by lifting the rubber currycomb and hurling it at his head. He ducked just in time–it narrowly missed his shoulder and bounced off the wall behind him. To her astonishment, he laughed as if it were all a big joke.

  “Wow, he must’ve been worse than I thought. Sore subject, huh?”

  She shot him a look of contempt before she replaced Pumpkin in her stall and fled down the aisle. In a blind rage, she stormed out of the barn and collided headlong into Tommy and Joaquin.

  “Whoa, Bec,” he said as he steadied her. “What’s the matter?”

  She pasted an apologetic smile on her face. “Nothing. Sorry about that.”

  Alec was right behind them, leading Onyx by the reins, and didn’t look so easily convinced. He reached out and touched her arm as she pushed past Tommy.

  “Are you alright?”

  She stopped in her tracks, startled by the genuine concern in his eyes. “I’m fine,” she lied as she spun on her heel and scurried away.

  Chapter 8

  Rebecca shifted in the hard plastic chair and leaned her head against the wall, glancing at the clock for at least the hundredth time. It was 2:37am. Why was she even here right now? She turned her gaze to the window, watching the snowflakes swirl down West Broadway. The way this night was going, it would probably be a raging Nor’easter by the time she got out of here.

  She closed her eyes and let out a slow, silent breath, trying to swallow the anger festering in her throat. She had so much to do tomorrow. She didn’t need this. She should be home sleeping, not sitting in the waiting room of the South Boston Police Department.

 

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