by Sable Hunter
Rex rode in the seat beside him, his big head on Zane’s leg. “Sherwood, tell me what you see,” he asked while absent-mindedly patting the dog.
They played this game regularly. Sherwood had been with Zane for years and there was great affection between them. “Well, Sir – the leaves have turned to mellow golds and russets and many of them are falling and flying through the air like confetti. All of the storefronts have big pots of mums in front of them and people are wearing sweaters and hugging themselves as they walk. The sun is going down and the sky is pink and orange. Day is dying in the west, but the moon will be huge tonight. It’s a blue moon, you know, the last one this year.”
“Thank you, Sherwood.” He felt the car slow down and he knew they were at his office. Downtown Austin was one of his favorite places on earth.
“We’re here, Mr. Zane.” His door was opened and he and Rex departed. The streets weren’t deserted, he could hear the swish of tires on wet pavement and an occasional car horn sounded. If he listened closely, he could hear the sounds of music from Sixth Street. Tonight there was no time for lingering, however, Chloe wanted to meet and he had a bad feeling that he wasn’t going to be happy with the topic. His dog didn’t slow down and Zane knew that the doorman had pulled back the double glass doors for him.
“Evening, Mr. Saucier. You’re out late.”
“Yes, I am, Norman. I hope you’re well. Is Ms. Jacobs here, yet?”
“I am well, Sir. Thank you. Ms. Jacobs is waiting for you. She arrived about ten minutes ago.”
Zane and Rex stepped into his domain. There was a certain smell about a law office. He didn’t know if it was the books or the furniture polish that every cleaning service used to buff the heavy wooden furniture – but they all smelled alike to him. Of course the books were for his staff and their research; he couldn’t use them any longer. He had collected everything he needed, however. For his own use, he had a massive library of audio ebooks and audio files, plus he had access to several university library systems where his secretary or clerk could request case information, rulings or briefs.
The reception area was beautifully decorated, or so he was told. When he had met with the interior designer, he had told him to erase Margaret’s influence. So now instead of French austerity there was a western flair. Rich pecan wood was paired with saddle leather and photos of Whispering Pines and his horses decorated the walls. If the five-star Driscoll hotel could decorate in Texas chic, so could he. Turning to the left, he went to his private wing.
Because of his handicap, or as he liked to think of it, his unique perspective, Zane wanted his secretary or assistant close at hand. It just made things easier. So Chloe’s desk was on one side of the huge L-shaped room and his was on the other. A sitting room with two couches, a fireplace and a wet bar connected at the back and they enjoyed their own private bathroom and dressing facilities.
Zane liked the idea that someone was nearby. He didn’t feel so alone. So, it was important that he have a good relationship with his secretary/assistant. Many people had marveled at the way Zane preferred to operate, he talked through his work and he expected his assistant to follow along and participate. Chloe served as his sounding board. Maybe it was because he couldn’t make notes and read them, or perhaps he just liked to hear a smart man’s opinion. That thought made him smile, he wasn’t an egomaniac and he wasn’t overly humble. Zane liked to think of himself as a realist.
“Zane, I’m here.”
Chloe Jacobs wasn’t a young woman, but she was an attractive woman. He had never seen her of course; she had only been with him for four and half years. But he knew how other men treated her and he could sense the confidence with which she carried herself. Having been widowed for over five years, her work with him defined her days. “Chloe, what’s up?” Zane was in his comfort zone so he released Rex and made his way to one of her side chairs and sat down.
“I have something to tell you and it’s going to be hard to do.”
“I’m not going to like this, am I?”
Her voice was soft and gentle. Zane could sense hesitancy and an apology. But there was also a hint of excitement. What could have that type of an effect on the indomitable Miss Jacobs? “Is this about a man?”
“How do you do that?”
The shock in her voice told him volumes. It was a man. “I could read it in your voice.” What was he going to do? He didn’t think he could function without Chloe – not even for a week! But she would never know that. He wanted her to be happy. “Who’s the lucky man and when’s the big day?”
“The man is Fraiser McGee, owner of The Horseman Club and we’re eloping in ten minutes.”
Eloping? “Congratulations! How long will you be gone?” Needy, much?
A deep sigh. Hell! He knew what the answer was going to be.
“I won’t be coming back, BUT . . .”
He didn’t like the sound of any of that, but least of all the ‘but’.
“I am not leaving you uncared for.” She laid a small digital recorder on top of his hand that lay on her desk. “Here is the number for an employment agency – a temp agency. Call them Monday and ask for Presley Love. She is exactly what you need. Presley is smart and capable and she needs you as much as you need her.”
That sounded odd. What could she mean by that? Zane chose to ignore the strange inference. He’d think about that later. “If she’s so good, why is she with a temp agency?”
“Presley has had challenges in her life, like you have. Despite those challenges, she has exactly the talents you need at this firm.”
Ah, a mystery. He liked mysteries. Okay, he’d play along. Challenges didn’t bother him. After what he had been through, it was Zane’s philosophy that those challenges only served to make you stronger. “Should I call her direct or go through the agency?” He trusted Chloe. He was mad at her, but he trusted her. How dare she choose happiness over taking care of him? Yea, he was pitiful.
“Go through the agency, that way if it doesn’t work out, she’ll still be on their roll for employment opportunities.”
“You don’t think she’ll work out?” Zane knew what was coming.
“If she doesn’t it will be your fault.”
Ouch.
Before she left, Zane gave her a five thousand dollar bonus, kissed her cheek and told her to call him if she needed anything. Now, he just wanted to get home.
*****
Home was his ranch, Whispering Pines, located in the rolling hills between Austin and Bastrop. The pine trees in Bastrop County were as unusual as the stand of lost maples near Kerrville. Both were marvelous accidents of nature – unexpected gifts. His father had owned land in a dozen counties and parishes in Texas and Louisiana, but this little spot of heaven on earth had been all of his family’s holdings that he ever wanted. And it hadn’t been given to him, either, he earned it. From the time he was twelve, Zane had worked – after school, before school and weekends – delivering papers or working in a restaurant so he could have money to purchase the only thing of his father’s he ever wanted.
Every summer, he had spent here in Central Texas, learning the ropes and helping the hands. When he had turned eighteen, it had become his, the only legacy from the Saucier Empire he desired.
“We’re here, Sir.”
“Thank you, Sherwood.” The car slowed to a stop in the circle drive in front of the lodge style Hill Country home. It was a big house, constructed of natural local stone and wood. A wide front verandah ran the entire length of the front of the first and second story. Zane knew the wood trim was painted dark brown, but he wasn’t sure about the landscaping, all he had requested was that Margaret’s ornate shrubs be removed and that Cape Jasmines be planted everywhere – he loved the smell.
“Are there any kittens on the steps?” He had to ask because they had no fear of him or Rex and Rex wouldn’t bark at the little mites. Stepping on one of the little fellas was the last thing he wanted to do.
“The coast is
clear, Sir.”
“Good, thank you, Sherwood. Would you like to come in and see if Rachel left us any cookies and milk?”
“No, Sir, she brought me a batch of my own to the cottage.” As soon as he had said the words, Sherwood coughed, as if he had let the cat out of the bag. Zane just smiled.
“Enjoy,” he wondered if Rachel were waiting on Sherwood at the Cottage. Oh well, he wasn’t about to interfere. He and Rex walked into his home. The smells relaxed him. The sound of his boots on the wooden floor comforted him.
Heading for his room, he intended to change clothes and go check on Shalimar. The progress he had made with her was encouraging. With sure steps, Zane moved down the hall and into his bedroom. There was no need to turn on the light, of course. Rachel had helped him organize all of his clothes by season, function and color. There was a place for everything and everything in its place.
By nature Zane hadn’t been very organized, but all of that had changed after the accident. He became what was necessary to survive. Stripping off, he stretched his arms over his head and flexed. What he needed was a massage – hell no, what he needed was sex. His body was starved for a woman.
Donning blue jeans and a comfortable long-sleeve shirt, he padded to the back door and slipped on his well-worn work boots. A few minutes later, he and Rex were on the way to the barn. Around his property, he didn’t even make Rex wear the harness. They had developed such a rapport that the dog merely walked by his right side and if something was amiss or in the way, the lab let him know with soft barks or pushing on his leg. But at home, he could have a little more freedom.
Several whinnies greeted him. “Listen to them, Rex. They’re glad to see us.” We’ll go check them all, but let’s see Shalimar first. He made his way to the corral, opened the gate and went inside.
“Come here, Girl.” Of course, she didn’t come to him – so he went to her. He could tell where she stood trembling, Zane could hear her breathing. Making soothing, crooning, noises, he ran his hand down the long length of her back. “You’ve had a hard time, haven’t you?” Ridged scars stood out on her flesh, left from the bite of a whip.
Zane was proficient with a whip. He could wrap the curled, flexible end around one of the special-made vibrating tin cans he practiced with and once he had taken the head off of a rattlesnake – as long as he could hear his target – he could find it. But one thing he didn’t use the whip for was to punish, tame or torture his animals. Zane was also a martial arts expert. He had won tournaments and was called upon to give demonstrations. The fact that he was blind and a black belt fascinated people.
The thin horse seemed to want to respond. She allowed herself to enjoy his touch for just a few seconds before she skittered away.
With all the patience in the world, Zane held out his hand to coax the frightened filly closer. “I promise you, you’re safe now. Never again will you have to return to that hell you were in.”
Zane didn’t use force, he used love. Maybe it was because he was blind, but he believed in the healing power of touch. There had been a time when a loving touch would have healed his soul. If he could just get the broken spirited horse to accept the comfort he offered, half the battle would be won.
The animal had come to him from an owner who prided himself on cruelty. Shalimar was lucky. Three other horses had starved to death. The idiot had literally corralled them up next to his house and waited to see how long it would take for them to die without food.
“Are you hungry?” The horses had all already been fed, but he liked to walk through the padlock and the stables handing out treats. Shalimar would follow, she always did. His employees made sure that nothing was left out in his designated paths. A stray pitchfork or bale of hay could cause him to fall, so a check was made every afternoon to ensure that Whispering Pines was Zane-friendly. Every horse received a treat and Shalimar watched. She didn’t approach for hers, but if he held his hand out far enough, she would take it – quickly. And every day, she stood a bit closer. Soon, he’d try to ride her. Coaxing her back to trust was a long process, but well worth the effort.
Zane Saucier wasn’t your typical cowboy, but he did love his version of ranch life. No longer could he operate machinery or compete in the rodeo, but there were other things he could do to stay active in this important part of his world. Keeping this life from changing completely after the accident had been his goal. At first, he had felt lost on the ranch. For a time, he had given up, he had even gone so far as to try and sell his spread and his herds of Beefmaster cattle to Kane, his brother. But Kane wouldn’t hear of it. He had kept telling Zane to give it time. And he had been right.
Blindness hadn’t hampered his law practice; Zane had adjusted by using audio books and the many programs available for the visually impaired. But his sex life was a different story. Women seemed to gravitate to him – the bridal party dressing room fest had proven that. But he couldn’t get past what Margaret has said to him. A couple of times when he was out of town at a conference in Houston, he had given in to his friend Dylan and let him hook him them up with a pair of women who Zane swore were high priced escorts. He hadn’t been with a woman in so long that he didn’t question it too much – God, he had needed the release. But it wasn’t the same; she wasn’t enjoying him or needing him. Undoubtedly, she was tolerating him – for money.
So, Zane Saucier led a relatively celibate life. He came regularly, but it was by his own hand and if he mourned his sight a hundred fold, he mourned his passionless existence a thousand fold. Sometimes he wished he could just push aside his doubts and find a woman who could love him, long for him – but so far, he hadn’t met a woman he felt was worth the risk.
To make up for the absence of female companionship, Zane had thrown himself wholeheartedly into his law practice and Whispering Pines. Now he was glad he had listened to his twin because Zane had turned his home into more than just a working ranch, he had turned into a shelter for abused animals. One day his foreman had brought home a young stallion that had been mistreated in a traveling show. The poor thing had been beat so badly it had turned vicious. No one could come near it, and people were afraid to try.
The authorities had shut down the show and jailed the owner, forcing a sale. Unable to control the horse, the new owners had made arrangements to have the horse destroyed, but Frank had found out and bought the animal – not knowing what Whispering Pines would do with it. At first Zane had been unwilling to even visit the abused animal, much less work with it. But hearing Frank talk about the frightened creature made Zane think about what could be done to help it. Finally, he had made his way to the holding pen and met Onyx. A sense of kinship enveloped Zane and he knew he had to try and help the horse.
Night after night, Zane would walk to the corral fence and talk to Onyx, whispering to him softly. Both of them – he and Onyx - were the victims of circumstances beyond their control. Both of them had been thrust into a storm not of their own making. One warm summer night, as he had leaned on the fence with his hands through the railing telling the animal all of his problems, he had felt the nudge of a warm nose in the palm of his hand. So, Zane had discovered he had a gift. He might be blind, be he could help and heal others that were hurting. Maybe his inability to see with his eyes increased his capacity to see with his heart.
Morning came sooner than he would have liked. He got up, showered, shaved and dressed for work. Zane loved the law. Both he and Kane had chosen it, but in slightly different respects. Kane was the sheriff of Kerrville County. Their parents were Louisiana royalty – richer than God, but he and Kane had walked away from the ties that would bind them to big oil, bayou politics and a lifestyle of acquiring more and more and enjoying it less and less. Zane made a good living, but he chose cases that meant something to him and did just as much pro bono cases as he felt like he could afford – which was quite a bit.
Saucier & Barclay had the reputation of being a generous firm. Zane was lucky to have found Adam Barclay for a partner
. He brought talent, vision and compassion to the firm. The Taylor case would be perfect for him. Bringing justice out of tragedy was his specialty. One of his goals was to take on an associate with the same passion he had, but as of yet, he hadn’t found one with the same zeal for justice that he had. Most young lawyers were, understandably, interested in making a name for themselves and racking up the billable hours. Now, what he dreaded was starting over with a new secretary. This was not going to be a picnic any way you looked at it. Change was not something that Zane Saucier dealt with very well.
Rex was ready to go before he was. When Zane came out of the dining room after his usual morning fare of Rachel’s sausage biscuits and gravy, the welcoming bark met his ears. “Patience, Dog, I’m on my way.” Sherwood greeted them with enthusiasm and Zane was glad to hear the lilt in his voice. “Good morning, it sounds like you’re looking forward to the day.”
“I am, Sir. I’m thinking about taking up dating again.”