Morgan's Walk

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by Suzelle Johnston


  I told you the Morgan women are fierce. Son, don’t forget that.

  Fierce enough? Were they strong enough? He sat, felt the wind on his face. Listened to the quiet. Heard his cell chime and almost grinned when he read Fionola’s text.

  —Get yourself to the house immediately, I expect you to be dressed and presentable in forty-five minutes. You will be at dinner. The Senator is on his way. We have work to do. I mean it, Jared. Will fill you in when I see you.—

  “Now what?” Something else must have happened for Fionola to send the abrupt message. He pocketed the phone and headed for the house.

  Later, between the Senator and the salmon mousse, Tyndal walked in, elegant, remote, and quiet.

  “I didn’t expect to see you here.” Jared offered her a glass of wine.

  “Hadn’t planned on being here.” Tyndal accepted the wine, and sipped. “But Fee’s in a mood. You might say this is a command performance. Speak of the devil…”

  “I was looking for you, dear.” She kissed Tyndal on the cheek. “I’ve told Jared that I want both of you in my office the instant our Senator and guests retire for the evening. In the meantime, mingle. Put on a smile, Tyndal. The press is here, don’t give them anything else to dine on. Understand?” She stepped back, smiled brightly. “I’ll see you after a bit.”

  ****

  Jared was glad to see Fionola had soup, bread, and a light salad sent to her office. He knew she hadn’t eaten two bites at dinner. Tyndal hadn’t done much better. He prowled till she arrived. Tyndal followed. He didn’t want to sit, but Fee asked. She pointed to the chair beside his and looked at Tyndal. When she was seated, Fionola walked around her desk.

  “It’s been a long, miserable evening and two miserable people are sitting in front of me. The chairs might be positioned side by side, but you two are miles apart. I want you to know I appreciate the fact that you came to the Senator’s dinner and that you’re both here now. I know you don’t want to delay this meeting; however, we need to talk. This situation involves each of you.” She sighed. “It won’t be an easy discussion. I’m sorry, child.” Her eyes softened as she looked at Tyndal.

  “I’m okay. Don’t worry about me.”

  “Tyndal, Fee, I want to explain,” Jared said.

  “No, dear boy. You don’t.” Fionola came to the front of her desk and pulled up a chair. She had a large manila envelope in her hand. “But I will. The reporters started in on me just after Sasha made her announcement. ‘The New Queen of Morgan’s Walk,’ I believe is the heading on one of the articles. Of course, there were several pictures of you and Sasha”—she looked at Jared—“from today and earlier. I believe most are from your engagement. I found it entertaining, though not particularly truthful.”

  “I don’t want to be here for this.” Tyndal moved, pushed up from her chair.

  “Sit down, child. I’m not finished. Jared, would you pour a cup of tea for me?”

  Moving to the carafe warming on the sideboard, he saw the look that passed between grandmother and granddaughter, and watched Tyndal straighten.

  “Thank you, dear boy.” Fionola took a couple sips, opened the envelope that contained photos and pages of reports. She held up a few. Jared recognized himself and Sasha in one on top. “You should look through these after we’re done.” She placed the file next to Tyndal. “Now, let’s clear the air. Chase met Sasha several years ago when she started out. She was young, I think in her early teens. He was a judge at a show where she competed. From what he said to me at the time, she was surprised to learn some men will not be bribed—no matter how attractive the temptation. She thought she could come between Chase and me. I thought it was funny, but Chase didn’t. When she latched onto you”—Fionola looked at Jared—“I’d hoped she’d changed. However, Chase believed she was up to her old tricks and started a quiet, but very thorough, investigation.” Sighing softly, Fionola touched Jared on his shoulder. “I think Tyndal has the right to hear about your engagement and how it ended. Then I’d like you to tell us what she’s doing here.”

  “I know I’ve said this before, but you don’t miss much do you?” Jared’s smile was grim.

  “Not if I can help it. Though this has been an especially trying day.”

  “True.” Jared agreed. “I’m sorry. I would have spared both of you had I known what was coming. Sasha prides herself on her ability to work situations and people to her advantage. I learned that the hard way. For about five seconds we were engaged. I thought I loved her. And then I realized there was no way I wanted to be in that situation. I didn’t want her. So, I called it off and she’s had it in for me since. That’s basically the short and dirty. There are a lot of other details the press might spill, but photos are like words and they aren’t always accurate.

  “For me, the thing that matters is this.” He looked at Tyndal. “Do you believe me?”

  “I do, Jared. I want to, and listening to you both? Sasha hasn’t got a chance.”

  “Yes, love, she does. It would a mistake to underestimate her.” He stood, walked to the windows and studied the grounds. “I stand here with you and feel her breathing down my neck. What she said, and the expression in her eyes—it’s not good. That she’d do anything? For once, I think she’s telling the truth.”

  “Why?” Tyndal and Fionola asked almost in unison.

  “Some of the members of the Russian team and I go way back. They’re tough, talented competitors and they have good horses. They ride to win. I respect that. But Sasha seems desperate. She said she has to win.”

  He went on to tell them about the last title she’d won. Her main opposition, a team he knew from England, he said they withdrew from the competition because the horse developed a severe colic early on the day of the finals. They didn’t compete and Sasha won. The incident was investigated, but nothing seemed unusual.”

  “That’s certainly not something we want to happen here,” Fionola said, her tone apprehensive.

  “No, it’s not. Fee, we need to be smart and prepared. I’d like both of you to talk with a guy who has his own private security team. I met him years ago. We’ve stayed in touch since, and I’ve come to consider him a friend. I called him right after Sasha and I finished our little chat. He’s flying in to meet with us tomorrow. I think we can make it difficult for her.”

  “I wish we could just send her home,” Fionola said. “Jared, I don’t want you hurt. The Classic begins tomorrow.” She closed her eyes. “I just wish I had more energy.”

  “We’ll get through this.” Jared took her hand. “Fee, are you okay?” The lines in her face were more apparent and she seemed, for the first time, almost frail.

  “Maybe feeling my age a little more than normal.” She smiled and walked to the windows, closing the drapes. “I know it’s an unusual solution, but since she only competes in the show jumping, what if there was nothing for her to win? What if we pulled that segment?”

  Jared shook his head. “This is Morgan’s Walk. We do what we say we will. Plus, we’d disappoint a lot of people and it doesn’t work that way for Sasha. Today she made it personal.” He glanced at Tyndal. “It’s personal for many reasons.”

  “Oh, I hate this. I really do,” Fionola said. “After so many years of the Classic being good fun and how it’s built such a strong reputation, for this to happen now, I just…”

  “Trust me, Fee.” Jared laughed low and soft. “Everyone competing in Sasha’s event is safe. I promise.”

  Fionola turned her eyes toward his. “Dear boy, surely I’m mistaken. But you’re so much like Chase, and because you are…” She paused. “Jared Grant, you get that idea right out of your head.”

  “What idea?” he asked mildly.

  “You’ve entered Pyralis. You intend to ride. And you’ve set yourself up as her target.”

  He heard Tyndal’s soft gasp. “I did and it’s okay. Pyralis is already being watched.”

  Fionola met his eyes. “Don’t give me that stubborn look. I’ve seen it
before. You didn’t get away with whatever shenanigan you’d dreamed up then, and furthermore, this changes things. You may think otherwise, but I’m not so old that I can’t make some of the decisions around here. You’ve done what you feel is right and as much as I hate to say so, I agree with your decision. I don’t like it, but I agree.”

  She held her head up and Jared got a firsthand look at the woman the press dubbed the Steel Matriarch. “Now I’m going to do what feels right to me.” She walked behind her desk. “Tyndal, call Seth right this minute. I don’t want any vet out here, I want him here. On site until this is over. You tell him that. And tell him I’ll have a room prepared in the house by the time he gets here, even if I have to move somebody from the Senator’s entourage out to the barn.” Fionola stood even straighter, her eyes razor sharp. “There’s one more thing I insist upon, and Jared, you may as well know I won’t tolerate any disagreement.”

  At the flash of heat in the ever-serene Fionola, he grinned and turned to Tyndal. “She gets pretty feisty when she’s all fired up, doesn’t she?”

  Tyndal smiled. “Nobody I know calls Fionola feisty and gets away with it.”

  “Hmm. I might should pay attention.” He felt a soft hand tap his shoulder.

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  “Jared, this is family and I take care of what’s mine. You’re to move back into the upstairs suite. You may as well not argue because it won’t do any good. I can just see an accident happening on your long drive into town, or something going wrong at your house. Do I make myself clear?”

  “On one condition,” he said. “I happen to like my rental, even though it’s a distance away. So, I think I’m entitled to some concessions.”

  “Is that so? Name them.” Fionola sent off enough sparks to light a July firecracker.

  “I want your solemn oath I don’t have to eat another forkful of salmon mousse. Ever.”

  Fionola burst out laughing. “You two make me proud. If you’re ready, let’s have some supper. I’m sure it’s waiting for us.”

  When she slipped out to take a call, Jared reached his hand toward Tyndal and smiled when she slid her hand into his. “Do you believe what I said about Sasha? Are we okay?”

  “We weren’t. Jared, the things she said to me in the barn…” Tyndal’s eyes filled with tears. “It hurt. Now I’m mad because I believed her. I’m so sorry, I should have trusted you.”

  “Nobody knows better than me how convincing Sasha can be. She was right, she and I do have a history. But about this deal with the engagement, I’m glad you know the facts. I didn’t know her then like I do now, and in the beginning, it seemed like I was helping out a friend. She asked if I’d escort her to a couple of functions, I did and then we sort of started a pattern. She was easy to be around and we just started being together. It ended when I realized I really didn’t care. We’d have a fight, she’d threaten to leave, and one time I told her I thought it’d be a good idea. She didn’t fit in my heart. I’ve learned she didn’t fit because you were already there. You always have been. I know the only woman I want in my life is you. The only woman I’ve ever wanted is you. Tyndal, I’d give you poetry, if I could. But I’m not that kind of guy. It’s just me, my heart, and the truth that I’ll love you for the rest of my life.”

  “Jared…”

  “Hush. I’m not done yet.” He gathered her into a kiss, his lips moving soft and slowly across hers, soothing, reassuring. Giving. Healing. When he finally drew back, he met her eyes. “Better?”

  “Better. But I don’t want to move either.” She rested her head against his shoulder.

  “Good. Neither do I.” He wrapped her close, wanting the feel of her in his arms.

  Chapter Seven

  Fionola, mounted on Raj, cantered into the center of the arena to announce the opening of the Morgan’s Walk International Classic. She welcomed guests from across the world to the Black Hills, to the ancient lands of the Lakota, the Soldier, and the Pioneer. She welcomed them to Morgan’s Walk, where during the next several days, championships would be won and lost and every challenge demanding and unrelenting. It promised to be exciting, thrilling.

  And it promised to be exhausting. She was glad to see the bright eyes of the spectators and smiled at the children jumping up and down on the seats beside their parents. Those little ones didn’t know about troubles hiding in shadows or threats on the wind. The day was picture-perfect. Flags fluttered in a soft breeze, the temperature was warm enough to be comfortable. Scents of summer grass and sage drifted in the air.

  Jared introduced her to Keno Flynn before breakfast. His cordial veneer was smooth, well honed, and she didn’t need anyone to explain underneath the gloss was a shrewd and undoubtedly, very skilled agent.

  “Ma’am,” he’d said. “If you feel anything, sense anything, come tell me. I know I really don’t know you, but I feel like I do from all Jared has told me—about you, and about Morgan’s Walk. I’m here because you trust Jared and what he says about me and my team. But I’ll tell you we’re very good at what we do. I hope that puts your mind to rest somewhat. I also know trust is earned. I hope we earn yours.”

  It was the strangest conversation. But she also found herself liking the man. He was built like a Mack truck, big, rugged and tough. But utterly sincere, and in a way, he reminded her of Chase.

  Her welcome finished as the sound of drums pulsed and swelled, filling the skies with their insistent and measured beat while magnificently dressed Native American dancers entered the arena.

  Like everyone else, she loved to watch them, the intricate splendor of their costumes, the beauty of the story revealed through their traditional movements. This year, they’d dance the Story of the Morning and the Rising Sun. Then they’d offer a blessing upon all who’d compete.

  Chase invited the Lakota to participate the first year of the Classic and every year since then, the invitation continued. After his death, Fionola met with their Council asking if they’d consider remaining part of the Classic. She very much wanted the rich relationship they’d developed over the years to continue, and not just because of the Classic. Sharing a glimpse of Lakota culture through their dance was important, the spectators thoroughly appreciated it, but the friendship that had grown and the feeling of being invited to really ask questions and learn far more than what was in books about what it meant to be Lakota was a level of friendship Fionola valued on a personal level.

  But it was more than friendship when, at the conclusion of their last meeting, an elder, a man of wisdom and prayer, walked up to her and put his hand on her shoulder. She’d stopped, wondering if she had forgotten something or if there was a problem. He merely smiled, the lines in his face crinkling till he resembled an old oak leaf with the brightest eyes imaginable.

  “Lady, may I pray for you? I see shadows around you. God is near. So many things change in our years. The passing of days, the movement of seasons, the balance of time. It is time that sees life flower, sees it fade. It is the way.”

  She didn’t have to ask what he meant. More and more she felt the passing of days in her bones. And she’d teased Seth about being old? It was a relief to have Jared near, and his friend Keno. Even so, she continued to feel more and more on edge, as if something awful waited to happen. She found herself praying all the time.

  Praying her fluttering, old heart would hold on a little longer.

  Praying for energy she didn’t have. At least that morning, one of her prayers was answered. Raj, always perceptive, was exceptionally gentle.

  When she went to the barn, a couple of the reporters asked about Raj and Bahadur. Jared and Sasha were the main topic, and they weren’t exactly happy she declined to comment. Dealing with their questions was exhausting, but with the addition of the enormous crowd in the grandstand? Beyond the bleachers, people sat on lawn chairs or stood, watching the opening ceremony, and drinking coffee. Countless others would walk through the show barns, admiring the horses on display.

  God ke
ep them safe.

  So far, everyone she loved was out of harm’s way. She tried to convince Tyndal to move into the house, but she’d argued not even Sasha was crazy enough to mess with Jake. Fionola wasn’t sure. When she mentioned her concerns to Jared, she learned Tyndal had no idea how well protected she was, and not only by Jake.

  Jared was the one who had the greatest risk. He’d be riding against Sasha. Just because she was curious, she’d observed one of Sasha’s practice sessions. One glance and she couldn’t help but agree, the woman was good. Excellent, in fact, and her horse was a wonder, fast and courageous.

  Mostly, she sighed, she wanted the whole thing over and done.

  At the opening refrains of the National Anthem, as everyone moved to rise, she booted Raj around to stand, statue-still, facing the flag.

  The Classic had begun.

  ****

  And in the dim coolness of the barns, hidden beyond the music and the crowds, so had something else. Sasha found the weakness she’d looked for. It had been right under her nose all the time. She laughed. Some things were too easy.

  Bahadur was having a great time. He seemed to love being stabled at Jared’s school. The students fawned over him. Tyndal worked with him every day. And every day, Sasha watched. None of the high and mighty Morgan’s needed to know just how closely she kept tabs on their activities. She knew when Fionola had her hair done, or her nails. The woman entertained frequently and never left the house with even a hair out of place. Why Tyndal went around dressed as she did, when her grandmother owned everything in sight, was anyone’s guess.

  It became part of her personal entertainment to see what costume the country mouse would wear from one day to the next—oversized, bulky camouflage, old jeans, a ragged sweatshirt, and a cap of some sort. The well-used rubber muck boots were a real hit. As if they were her personal piranha, Tyndal avoided the press. She did nothing to draw attention to herself. If it wasn’t so pitiful, it’d be funny. Sasha watched her work her silver mare in dressage, and then school a number of different horses. Some she worked at Halter, some were Western horses. Apparently Tyndal felt a need to take on clients. From what she could see, Tyndal worked all the time, plus she was the trainer responsible for the horses currently on the show circuit for Morgan’s Walk. What Jared saw in her, Sasha had no idea.

 

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