Turning for Trouble

by Susan Y. Tanner

  He ignored the suggestion. “How long are you staying in LaGrange?”

  Her glare held pure exasperation. “I don’t need taking care of, Cade. I never did.” It was a deliberate jab.

  Cade wanted to tangle with her over his motives on that long-ago and ill-fated day, but now wasn’t the time or place. “I promised Dirks and Avery I’d check things out here. If I hadn’t, they would be standing here themselves instead of relaxing in a first-class cabin on a jet headed to Wales.” It wasn’t his only motive by a long shot. Regardless, it was a true statement and succeeded in taking the starch out of her shoulders. He didn’t see much need to go any deeper into his reasons, not now and maybe not ever.

  He waited - patiently for him - until she turned her attention from the red mare he suspected she wasn’t actually seeing at this point back to him. “So, why don’t you tell me why the cat, which I’m assured has amazing detective skills, decided you needed his company?”

  Malone hesitated for a long, long moment before admitting, “I had a stowaway in my horse trailer. Trouble must have been prowling around the hatches and saw something because he somehow ended up coming along for the ride as well.”

  The skin tightened on the back of Cade’s neck. Only the fact that Malone was beside him unscathed by any encounter along with the fact that the black cat had nonchalantly lifted one paw to begin grooming himself kept Cade from a sharp rejoinder. At least verbally. Internally, was a different matter. The hell she didn’t need taking care of.

  “And just where is that stowaway now?”

  “She’s inside. At least I hope she is. She’s a flight risk and I won’t put it past her to slip out a back window and run if she thinks you’re a threat. She tried that once already. She barely trusts me.”

  She. Some of Cade’s tension eased, but only some. “Is she running from the law?”

  “I don’t think so. She’s got a few bruises, blamed them on an ex-husband but she’s lying about that.”

  “Husband? How old is she?”

  “If she’s sixteen, I’ll be surprised.”

  “So, she’s run away from home.”

  “I’m not sure about that part. She’s hiding but I don’t have a clue from who or what. I’m planning on looking up some recent Amber Alerts to see if I can find anyone who looks or sounds like her. She got on board in Lake Charles but I don’t know if that’s where she’s from.”

  “Have you called the authorities?” Somehow, knowing Malone, he’d already surmised the answer to that.

  “No, and I’m not going to.”

  “You could be putting yourself into some real legal difficulties here, Malone.”

  “And I could do worse than that if I do call them. They’ll contact some state department who’ll come after that girl. They’d never get her into a vehicle with them, not without force, which means I’d be arrested for fighting them off her.”

  Cade rubbed the back of his neck battling every wrong word he wanted to say.

  Unexpectedly, Malone smiled though her gaze retained just a bit of poignancy. “You always did that when you were getting ready to lecture me.”

  “I’m not going to lecture you, Malone.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Damned if I know.” And damned if he did. “Maybe a better question is, what are you going to do?”

  He wasn’t surprised when Malone pushed away from the fence rail and said, “Right now I’m going to unload feed and make sure Jaz has a comfortable place for the next two nights.”

  * * *

  Malone tried not to think about spiders as she checked out a stall close to the barn door, but then again, thinking about spiders was almost preferable to thinking about Cade. She’d made herself not think about him for so many years that his presence was unnerving and every single memory, every moment of teen angst came flooding back. And it did no good to tell herself she was a different person now. She wasn’t that seventeen-year-old half in love with, but furiously battling, a guy who hadn’t the slightest idea what she needed or wanted from him. And she’d driven him away with bitter, angry words.

  Somehow, somewhere inside of her, that younger self had expected Cade to realize his mistake and come after her, wrest her away from Tyge because he’d know, surely he’d know, Malone didn’t really love Tyge, didn’t really plan to tie her life to his. She’d just desperately wanted out of a small-town future, out of her parent’s plans for college, and into the world of rodeo. She’d packed her bags in the dead of that summer night and loaded her barrel horse beside Tyge’s in his old two horse trailer with stars glittering in a midnight sky. Even as she reminded herself that Tyge believed in her, believed she could make it on the circuit, a part of her heart had hoped and watched and waited, looking back at the empty highway miles for those familiar headlights to come racing after her. But Cade, who’d strode away in fury, appeared to have taken her words to heart and he never came and life went on.

  Halfway through Tennessee, in a roadside motel, she gave her virginity to Tyge but she never quite gave him her heart.

  And, now, when she didn’t want him, didn’t need him, Cade had reappeared, hefting feed bags and hay bales with ease, seeming not to notice the dust they left on crisp jeans and navy-blue polo with their rodeo association logo on the front. She tried not to notice him. After all these years, he was just someone she used to know.

  But when their hands brushed as they both reached for the same water bucket, she pulled hers back as if she’d touched fire. And Malone had quit playing with fire years ago. Somehow, she had to get Cade on the road, on his way back out of her life. She had enough on her hands with whatever problem her stowaway had brought and whatever trouble Tyge had stirred up and seemed to fear might spill over onto her. At least Tyge had enough decency left to care about the possibility.

  Cade had fallen silent as they worked together after asking only if she didn’t want to put the feed and the hay in the barn. He’d nodded at her quiet statement that she didn’t plan to stay for long and was used to working between her trailer and whatever barn her horses were in. He, of course, understood living on the road.

  For years Cade and his cousin had been top earners in team roping in their circuit, but he’d gradually transitioned from competition to management of a rival association. Recently, he’d stepped up to become a director for the association where she competed and paid her dues. She’d realized she would no doubt encounter him at some point. But, she’d expected to be better prepared for the moment.

  Malone found herself sending frequent glances toward the house, wondering each time if Joss was sliding out some window, knowing there was nothing she could do about it if she were. The girl would stay and allow Malone to help her or she would go. Malone wouldn’t take her choices from her but she couldn’t help the nagging worry and knew she’d carry it with her down the road if the girl left.

  As they finished, Malone looked around the barn. The aged wood was solid, undoubtedly far stronger than what passed for lumber in more modern barns. Jaz’s stall for the next day or two was large and safe.

  She turned to look at Cade. “I appreciate the help.”

  “But you didn’t need it.”

  “No, I didn’t. And, as you can see, I’m fine and safely settled in now.”

  “Malone, I’m not leaving.”

  * * *

  Hmmm, such tension in the air. I will say I’m rather amazed that Ms. Rodeo does not deign to argue but simply turns on her heel and strides toward the house, leaving him to follow if he will. And, of course, he does with the devoted Townsend at his heels. Oh, and I cannot continue to call that canine by such a ridiculously refined name, not with his tongue lolling happily out of his mouth as he prances at his master’s side. Townsend, it cannot be. Townie, perhaps? As in one of those poor suburbanites who have no inkling about serious outdoor living? Hmmm. Apropos, perhaps. I’ll try that for a bit to see if it fits, although, I’m not sure how long the duo will be staying. We
shall see who has the stronger motivation, she to send him on his way or he to remain in the event recent happenings are not as benign as they seem.

  I am amazed further to find Joss standing in the kitchen with her back to the counter. I rather thought she would be hiding in a back room, waiting for the man to leave and hoping he’d go away without coming inside. Regardless of her youth, she has courage, as I suspected she must by virtue of having fought and run rather than choosing to succumb to whatever fate had been planned for her. Too often humans fear the unknown much more than the known, regardless of however unpleasant, even treacherous, their circumstances may be. Felines never choose to remain in unwelcoming environments.

  Ms. Rodeo performs the briefest of introductions, saying, “Joss, this is Cade.”

  He extends a hand to her but Joss’ arms remain crossed in front of her. She watches him carefully, rather similar to the manner in which I might regard a snake that has slithered too close, not certain it is a threat, but neither certain it is not, until it has passed me by without incident.

  To his credit, he ignores the slight as he accepts a glass of tea and an offer of a seat at the well-used kitchen table.

  To keep the overly friendly Townie from flouncing down on top of me, I leap to a corner of the counter beside Joss who chooses not to join them at the table. I think she takes a bit of comfort from my presence though her shoulders stiffen as our visitor fixes his gaze on her. “I’m not here to hurt you nor will I allow you to be hurt, but I do need to know who will come after you.” Oops, Ms. Rodeo is looking daggers at him. “We need to know.” Heh, heh, fast – and wise – reaction to that pointed look cast his way.

  * * *

  Malone waited, smug in her certainty that Cade would have no better luck getting information from Joss than she had.

  With the unerring accuracy of every teen ever, Joss deflected his question by looking straight at her and asking, “Instead of focusing on me, why don’t you tell him about the phone message? The one that made your hands shake.”

  Chapter Five

  Cade held his temper, by a thread, but he managed. He might not have managed if he’d known where to unleash it. A part of him acknowledged that whatever was happening with Malone - whatever troubled her - was hers to resolve. Another part of him said, “hell no” to that. Maybe it was because of their past, their shared memories of good times and bad. Maybe it was because of feelings that had resurfaced at seeing her again, after years of keeping those feelings tightly contained. Maybe it was because he was the ‘tyrannical despot’ she’d once called him. Even at seventeen, Malone, who’d divided her time between horses and books, had owned an extensive and imaginative vocabulary.

  Regardless, Cade wasn’t just going to drive back the way he’d come and leave Malone to whatever fate someone wanted to dish out to her. Nor did he trust one black cat to protect her, despite Dirks’ faith in that cat’s abilities, despite even the fact that Cade himself had been unpredictably and intrinsically reassured by Trouble’s calm response to Malone’s pronouncement that she’d found a stowaway on board her trailer.

  To that end, he was patient through a meal a reluctant Malone invited him to share because she was too polite to ask him point-blank to leave. Patient as they talked about which ropers and rough stock riders and barrel races were moving into which circuit finals, who might move on to the association finals the first week of December, what contestants had been successful the previous year but less so this year and the whys and wherefores. Idle chit-chat he could accomplish while his mind wrestled with how to keep Malone from harm when she didn’t want his help. And the truth of the matter was that he couldn’t. Couldn’t when he was twenty-two, couldn’t through the years since, couldn’t now. Not unless she allowed him to and he didn’t think that likely.

  He noted that Joss listened to their conversation but didn’t offer a single word, answering only if asked a direct question. He’d never seen a person that young that quiet. But he’d also never seen a young girl with bruises across her face that may well have been from someone’s fist. It clenched the muscles in his gut every time he glanced her way. Deep down he knew he’d sometimes feared that was Malone’s fate after she’d run off with Tyge LaMonte. Cade had kept tabs, though and - despite Tyge’s reputed propensity for using his fists instead of his wits in any dispute – Cade had never heard one word that he’d used them on Malone. LaMonte wouldn’t be in one piece today if he had.

  Dusk lit the skies with purple and put the hills in shadows when he stepped out of the house, watching from the porch as Malone headed back out to feed Jaz. She hesitated halfway along the path to the barn and glanced back as if she’d sensed his stare. She wore one of her grandpa’s plaid flannel shirt-jackets and her hair spilled to her shoulders in a silken sheen of rich caramel. She’d never looked more vulnerable – or more beautiful – than she did in that moment.

  Knowing it was a mistake before he ever made a move, Cade stepped off the porch to follow.

  The years fell away as Cade watched Malone measure feed and supplements for her mare and he automatically reached for the pail when she closed the top of the feed bag. With an unfathomable glance, she yielded it to him and separated a section of hay to take with her. They fell in step together as they walked the short distance from her trailer to the barn.

  The mare greeted them with a nicker, butting Cade’s arm as he emptied the pail into her larger feed bucket. Malone talked softly to the mare as she refilled Jaz’s water bucket and used a manure fork to clean her stall. She had yet to speak a word to Cade and – for the moment – he didn’t mind the fact. If they weren’t talking, they weren’t arguing.

  Malone latched the stall door behind her and turned to face Cade. Her eyes searched his face as if looking for a hint as to his thoughts. “What now?” she asked at last.

  Cade didn’t bother with words. He leaned in and brushed her mouth with his, not daring to pull her in close and hard against him, though he longed to do just that. For too brief a moment, he felt her lips soften and yield before she stepped back and away.

  “No.” That one soft word was all she said before she turned and walked back to the house.

  No was right. Cade knew it, even agreed with it on some level. But there were other, more visceral levels where he did not. There was a lifetime of experiences between who they were now and who they had been. Instead of giving way to the temptation to touch her, taste her, he should have taken the moment to ask whose phone call had the ability to make her hands shake. She wasn’t likely to give him that opportunity now, much less give him an answer.

  Townsend bumped his leg and he looked down at the ball the dog carried in his mouth and Cade spent the next half hour burning his pent-up frustration and making his dog ecstatic.

  The house was dark and quiet when he went back inside with Trouble and Townsend trailing after him. He bolted the door and found a spare bedroom by the simple act of walking past two doors which were solidly closed and into the first one that stood open. There’d be hell to pay if his folks knew he’d come back this way after the wedding and not come by but he’d had a good few days with them beforehand and there just wasn’t time for another visit now.

  * * *

  Discarding her plan to stay at least one more day, Malone had the trailer loaded and what now seemed like an entourage on the road well before noon. She gave a last glance around the old farmstead and knew she wasn’t ready to make a decision on what to do with the place. It was home to her in a way no other place had ever been. She had enough regrets in her past. She wouldn’t add to that by acting in haste – not when she could help it. There was time for her to be sure of her own mind. She would give herself that time.

  Cade didn’t press her for any more information, didn’t give her any advice, but she knew in her heart she hadn’t seen the last of him and not just because they belonged to the same rodeo association now. Whatever they were or weren’t, they had a past. Although she didn’t intend fo
r them to have a future, they had a past.

  To her relief, Cade didn’t try to hang with her as she headed back west though he’d followed her onto the interstate because they were headed in the same direction. When she made her first exit to stop for fuel, she saw his truck hold steady on the interstate. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Time for her to focus on the competition ahead, on giving one hundred percent to each horse and each run.

  As they traveled, with Joss riding shotgun and Trouble stretched out on the back seat, Malone gave Joss control of the radio and found they liked the same station, same songs. The girl had a soft contralto voice, unusual enough in itself, but also one that was far above average. “You could be the next Reba McEntire or Jennifer Nettles.” Malone was only half kidding.

  Joss flashed her a half-smile. “I’d aim for Miley Cyrus. Or maybe Bonnie Tyler.”

  “So, you understand your voice and music.” That seemed odd to Malone. Most teens were more into the lyrics than an understanding of vocal range and which singers were what.

  Joss’ smile disappeared. “My mom taught me. She named me after Joss Stone. She called her Britain’s version of a soul singer.”

  “I’m familiar with her.” But Malone was more interested in Joss’ mention of her mother and the sadness that accompanied her comments.

  “Where is your mother now, Joss?”

  “St. Luke’s Cemetery.”

  Malone felt the weight of Joss’ sadness but also the absence of any faith. Not heaven. Not hell. St. Luke’s Cemetery.

  “I’m sorry for that. You miss her.”

  “I miss a lot of things. But life goes on and I will too.”

  Malone could agree with that and she didn’t press further, didn’t have the inclination and didn’t really have time when her phone rang. She glanced at the truck display, saw Tyge’s name flash and hesitated. She wasn’t sure what was up with him. With Joss’ presence in mind, she hit accept, hoping he’d at least mind his language. “You’re on speaker, Tyge. I’m on the road with a friend.”