Turning, she hurried back to the weeping Carlee, already knowing that Craig had come and gone. Dirks was crouched in front of Craig’s daughter but she had turned her face from him. Carlee was a private person and she would not appreciate having a stranger see her in an emotional state of any kind. Avery dropped to her knees beside Carlee, aware and grateful that Dirks discreetly withdrew.
“Carlee?” She kept her voice calm, though she was anything but calm inside. Despite knowing her horses were safe, her nerves jangled from the events of the day – the scene with Craig and the damage to her vehicle – and now dread at the realization that something had gone terribly wrong here as well.
Carlee turned to her, eyes as blue as Craig’s and long, dark lashes that never needed mascara, drenched with tears, as others streamed down her face. “Oh, Avery, I’m so sorry. I tried to stop him. He was wild, absolutely wild with fury.”
Avery’s stomach clenched. “Are you hurt?”
Carlee shook her head vehemently. “No, of course not. He’d never hurt me. He’s my father.” But her voice did not carry any conviction.
“What happened here? What did he do?” She could not bring herself to so much as say Craig’s name.
Head down in shame, Carlee waved a hand toward the tack room where the bridles were always maintained in meticulous order and cleanliness.
As Avery stepped through the doorway, she could not stop her gasp. Dozens of valuable bridles fully tacked out with bits and reins were heaped in the middle of the floor, costly leather headstalls slashed in half.
“I tried to stop him. I truly did,” Carlee’s voice carried softly from the hall of the barn. “He was screaming and just pushed me away like I wasn’t even speaking to him.” Carlee’s voice was openly troubled. “I don’t think he even knew it was me talking to him, begging him to stop. He just kept saying you had to pay, over and over.” Carlee stopped abruptly, clearly stricken by what she was admitting about her own father.
Avery expelled a sigh as she turned resolutely away from the carnage. The bridles could be replaced. Her horses were safe and Carlee was unharmed, though shaken by the scene with Craig.
Avery returned to stand in front of her and held out her hand. Slowly, Carlee took it and rose gracefully to her feet. She was taller than Avery, but only slightly, and their eyes met. “I’m really, really sorry, Avery.”
“This isn’t your fault, Carlee. I don’t hold you accountable in the least.”
“Would it be better,” her voice broke slightly, but she took a breath and finished, “better for you ... easier ... if I just left?” Carlee appeared uncharacteristically young and vulnerable, far from her usual shoulders-back confidence.
“Is that what you want?” Avery kept her words calm even as an added stress slammed through her. Carlee was her right-hand. She couldn’t imagine how she’d ever replace her, how she could possibly find someone as reliable and as committed to helping Summer Valley Ranch succeed. And on a personal level, she would miss Carlee terribly. But Avery knew she had to do the right thing for the girl. Craig’s daughter was caught clearly in the middle. “Would it be easier on you? I know these last years have been as difficult for you as they have for me. I’d make sure you were okay financially if you feel that’s best for you.”
“No.” Carlee’s expression was one of pure shock at the suggestion. “I never want to leave here. This is my home. We’ve built everything from nothing.” Her lips quivered. “Me and you. Together.”
Avery heaved a sigh of relief, acknowledging a familiar wave of affection. She and Carlee were a good team. “Well, that’s that then.” She smiled though she didn’t yet feel like smiling. “We’ll get through this like we have the rest. Your father will get a grip eventually and move on. He loves you, Carlee, whatever he said about or to you, it will be okay.”
Carlee shook her head and her mid-length layers of hair swirled slightly with the movement. “You didn’t see him, Avery. I’m not sure he can pull himself together. His hands were shaking – not just trembling – but shaking and he was talking wild. Kept saying ‘they’ would be angry and he wasn’t going to take the blame for what you’d done to him.”
“They?” Avery was completely confused. “They, who?”
“I don’t know. I asked. He wouldn’t answer me.”
“Don’t worry about it for now,” Avery said firmly, shifting into mother mode. “You’re exhausted and so am I. We’ll get some rest and clean up this mess first thing in the morning. I’ll finish and lock up here. You go on inside.”
Carlee didn’t seem at all sure about leaving Avery and turned her attention to Dirks for the first time. Her eyes narrowed in warning. “Who are you?”
Dirks gave his name and held out his hand, waiting patiently for Carlee to shake it. Avery could see her hesitance and offered as much explanation as she could.
“Mr. Hanna will be staying in the guest quarters while he checks out what we can offer wounded veterans.” She was relieved to see Carlee’s shoulders lose some of their tension.
“Welcome to Summer Valley Ranch,” Carlee said, with more welcome but still no smile.
Avery suspected she didn’t have much ‘smile’ left in her after the episode with Craig. “Get some rest, Carlee,” she said gently. “I’ll get Mr. Hanna settled and see you in the morning. Everything will seem better with the sun.”
Carlee gave her an ‘I’m not so sure look’ but she complied, giving Avery a light, quick hug before turning to leave. At the door of the barn, she cast a final backward, slightly anxious glance.
“She’s worried about you,” Dirks offered.
Avery sighed. “Well, that’s two of us.” She brushed tangled hair from her face. “I’ll show you to the guest quarters and let you take your bags in while I get some fresh linen.”
“What remains to be done out here?”
The question surprised her. “With the horses? Nothing.” She glanced toward the tack room with the tangle of ruined headstalls. “Nothing at all.”
Well, how interesting was that? Ms. Gorgeous hardly appears old enough to be playing mother to a young woman of Carlee’s age yet the relationship seems to work for the two of them. And, of course, in terms of pure age, it is entirely plausible.
Beyond a doubt, there is much to be done in short order. My beautiful Irish Rose, Tammy Lynn, must be reassured of my safety, so computer access is essential. Fortunately, there is no need for a conversational exchange. Tammy Lynn will realize at once that my presence in Summer Valley is directly tied to the string of worrisome e-mails she has received from Ms. Gorgeous. Though they don’t see each other often, they remain good friends. I’d thought to find and settle a simple case of harassment from a soon-to-be-ex-husband but the current situation is certainly more than that. What worries my Tammy Lynn worries me and must, therefore, be resolved. And that is where my sleuthing skills shall be directed.
Once Tammy Lynn is aware of my location, my next task will also require my excellent online skills as I have yet to confirm that Mr. Military is as legitimate as he seems. So there is that to be accomplished along with sorting through the divorce drama to determine the identity of the puppet master pulling the strings of the ex-husband. Reaching a suitable conclusion is likely to be draining so my first order of business must be nourishment to sustain me as this looks to be a rather lengthy investigation.
Chapter Three
Avery was an early riser by nature on top of which she’d not rested well. Even after her body had demanded she crawl between her soft-as-silk sheets, her mind had skittered among worry over her horses, hope that she was handling things well with Carlee, and trepidation over Dirks Hanna’s arrival in the midst of this mess. Long before first light, she was at her computer, coffee mug in hand. She’d intended to do some research on him, the same as she did on any students or potential students who came her way, particularly those whose needs originated in trauma of some sort. It was essential that she always know what she was up against i
n her efforts to help her clients, sometimes merely to reach them, connect with them. Added to that, she was exceedingly particular in accepting clients she actually thought would benefit from what she had to offer and never those whose past indicated they would be a menace to her animals or her family.
She also had to read through more of the financial documents that Carlee sent her faithfully. Avery had given Carlee complete authority to execute purchase orders and pay bills, but Carlee adamantly refused to do anything that Avery had not first reviewed and blessed. The younger woman was always careful to send her a summary, telling her what documents were included and what response was needed. Avery never let her know that she sometimes did no more than skim the summary and forward her e-mail approval for the contents. Carlee was an absolute genius when it came to all things financial. Far be it from Avery to second-guess the rock-solid choices Carlee made in how and when to spend their resources above and beyond the necessities of feed and supplements, vaccinations and de-wormer, routine dental, and – always – the farrier.
Checking her e-mail before she did anything else was now more habit than necessity. There was a time, when she was first starting Summer Valley Ranch, that checking daily – often multiple times a day – for potential new clients was a must. She couldn’t afford to miss any inquiry in the early days. Now, she was flooded with clients. All came to her by word of mouth. Summer Valley Ranch did not, and did not need to, advertise.
Seeing an e-mail from her friend Tammy Lynn brought a smile to her face. She hadn’t thought she’d have anything to smile about today but the book seller had been such a good friend to her since she’d moved to the area and opened the ranch. Avery didn’t have much leisure time but what she did have she spent reading. Tammy Lynn’s “Book Basket” was her favorite place to find reading material.
Her first read of the e-mail, however, left her confused. Her smile faded as she re-read the words her friend had written.
“I’m glad Trouble is with you. I have no doubt he wouldn’t be unless he was certain he was needed. I know you’ll take good care of him, you’re that kind of person, and I know he’ll take good care of you, he’s that kind of cat.” She’d ended with one last comment. “I enjoyed the Skype.”
Avery leaned back in her chair and took another drink of her coffee while her mind tried to assimilate the message. Skype? Of a cat named Trouble? Tammy Lynn’s Trouble? Sure, she knew Tammy Lynn had what she swore was a smarter-than-average black cat but ...
Feeling eyes on her, she turned slowly, knowing those eyes were going to be a brilliant green. “Mister, I don’t know if or how you did that, but you are one scary-smart cat if you actually did.”
Trouble matched her stare for stare before leaping lightly to the desktop. He placed a deliberate paw upon the mouse, then withdrew it to curl up neatly on top of the mousepad. When he closed those guileless green eyes, Avery knew she’d been dismissed.
“I think I need another cup of coffee,” she murmured. Snooping into Mr. Hanna’s existence could wait as could the several dozen other e-mails.
Coffee and fresh air. She stepped out of the well-appointed kitchen, rarely used these days, to the wrap-around porch. Cup in hand, she sank into a cushioned wicker chair, letting the early morning coolness wash over her.
Before she had time to relax completely, her cell phone rang and she wasn’t surprised to see the sheriff’s name displayed. His daughter had been one of her first students. Long before she owned Summer Valley Ranch, she had been a riding instructor at a fairly large, local riding school. She’d learned enough to know she could make it in the business. She and the Farleys had remained friends.
“What the hell, Avery?”
Little as she felt like laughing, she couldn’t help herself. “Good morning, Ben. What the hell, indeed. I take it you’ve seen my vehicle.”
“Seen it, combed through it, and had it towed. You’ll get it back when it’s fixed, but we’re not done with it yet. Do I need to bust Craig’s ass?”
“I wish.” She sighed. “But you can’t, Ben, and we both know it. Craig may have slashed the tires but you’ll never prove it. And he doesn’t own a gun.”
“That you know of.”
“Oh, Ben, come on. You know he doesn’t carry.”
“What I know is he’s not the man he once was or the man I thought he was. We can’t be sure what he would and wouldn’t do at this point. You watch yourself, Avery. Watch yourself and I’ll watch him.”
Avery’s throat tightened. So many good people here, so many who cared about her. And a hell of a way to have to find out how many, a tiny voice chimed in. She ignored her own cynicism.
For a brief moment, she considered telling him about the destruction Craig had wreaked upon some extremely expensive tack. The thought of Carlee being questioned about her exchange that night with her father, of Carlee’s comments being a factor if Ben decided to arrest Craig, deterred her. She would not pit daughter against father. She thanked the sheriff and he rang off, reiterating that he’d have her vehicle towed to a repair shop and returned to her as soon as their investigation allowed them to.
Avery didn’t put much faith in that investigation but she didn’t say so. Not that Ben Farley wasn’t as smart as any big city sheriff, but it’d be a long shot if he managed to pin it on Craig, even as convinced as he was that Craig was guilty.
She wasn’t convinced. Craig might be just brave enough and just cowardly enough to slash a woman’s tires, but bullets, no, not so much. No, if anyone could figure out what had happened she’d put more faith in Dirks Hanna than the local law enforcement. But she hoped he wasn’t around long enough to solve any mysteries for her or anyone else. She wanted him to see what he needed to see and go back to whoever needed to hear it and declare Summer Valley Ranch more than adequate for the veteran equine therapy program. She had her heart set on it and would have been more frustrated by the delay than she was if the drawn out fight with Craig hadn’t taken so much of her time and energy.
Her gaze was drawn to the row of small guest bungalows. She’d put Dirks in the one farthest from the main house and wasn’t surprised to see a light already on. His air of confidence and authority was appealing. She could acknowledge the fact while also accepting she wouldn’t allow herself to be drawn to him for that or any other reason. Like strong hands and broad shoulders. She’d once found Craig’s strong hands and broad shoulders just as appealing. See where that had gotten her. She shook off the thought, determined not to go there. It was time to move forward and forward was showing Mr. Hanna that she had a perfectly viable program, medically approved to help veterans regain some sense of normalcy and control of their own destiny. The medically approved part he should already know even if he’d no more than skimmed the surface of her application. But the viable part – that much she could and would demonstrate to his satisfaction.
By the time her first client had arrived - she refused to call or even think of them as patients - Avery had downed another cup of coffee with two slices of whole wheat toast, showered and pulled her hair back and up with a clip. She would have preferred to forgo makeup completely, but her mirror said otherwise. She refused to go about appearing wan and dreary, like some heroine in a tragedy. The judge’s ruling had averted the tragedy she’d feared and there could be no heroine without a hero, and Craig was no hero. The last thought brought a glimmer of a smile as she brushed just the slightest bit of color onto her cheeks.
She waited for their eight o’clock client at the first paddock. Rob had been just weeks from his high school graduation when a car crash had taken his closest friend and left him with debilitating injuries. He’d been referred to her by a neurosurgeon who believed Rob’s own mind was deliberately holding him back from fullest recovery. Rob had been driving when the accident occurred. The parents of the deceased friend had forgiven their son’s friend, but Rob couldn’t or wouldn’t forgive himself.
Rob greeted her with a shy smile. That smile had taken week
s to surface but Avery didn’t credit herself. It was Rob’s bond with Mr. BoJangles – or Jangle as he’d come to be called – that had wrought the slow change in a young man who had everything in life ahead of him but wanted nothing but the one thing that life could not offer. A second chance for his friend.
The youngest of her instructors, Leanne, brought Jangle to the paddock and stood waiting patiently in the center for Rob to come to her.
Avery remained at the paddock opening as Rob walked slowly but with increasing steadiness across the soft smooth dirt of the paddock.
“Why didn’t she bring the horse to him?” Dirks’ voice came from behind her.
Avery turned slowly. “You’re very quiet on your feet.” It wasn’t quite an accusation.
“Habit. Training. Sorry, it wasn’t intentional.”
But she wondered if that were true. He was here, after all, to scrutinize everything about her. The thought should have bothered her, she supposed, but she was glad the government cared enough about the men and women who had served and been injured for their service to see that they received good care. She had reason to know that wasn’t always the case and not just because of the bombardment of bad press about veteran aid. She was still angry at how long it had taken for her brother to get the help he needed and, even then, it had been too little, too late.
Pulling her thoughts back to Dirks’ question, she said, “Rob came to us six months ago in a wheelchair. He had to want to walk before he could learn to walk. Jangle has a way about him that makes people want to come to him. Leanne was smart enough to use that fact to full advantage.”
Trouble in Summer Valley Page 3