Amounting to Nothing

by Karis Walsh

  “I wasn’t suggesting your houses date,” Cal interrupted. “Although they seem to have a sexy wrong-side-of-the-tracks thing going for them.”

  Rachel pulled Cal behind her and her voice changed to what Billie and the others called her Sergeant Voice. “Look, Billie, we were going to ask you to be in charge of the horses at Cal’s, too. Just the venue has changed, and we didn’t make this job up for you just to push you and Merissa together. You’d be doing this for the team first, and if you happen to help Merissa at the same time, that’s just a bonus.”

  “I’ll think about it, Sarge,” she said. She walked back to the barn and took Juniper’s halter off a hook on the wall. She wasn’t sure whether she completely believed Rachel or not, but the thought of being the sole person in charge of the horses excited her. She’d eventually like to step into Rachel’s boots, once Rachel was promoted to lieutenant, and this experience would be a step toward her goal. And if Merissa was part of the deal? Billie felt an involuntary smile forming on her face, but she bit her lip and pushed it away. As long as she and Merissa avoided any talk of Billie’s home or Merissa’s plan to turn Tacoma into a wealthy utopia, they might be just fine together. Talking was overrated, anyway.

  Chapter Eight

  Merissa drove through the high chain-link gate and parked her red Dodge pickup next to an ancient Camry. She sat inside for a moment before joining the group of riders who were standing outside the arena. She immediately recognized Billie from the back. She sat with one hand on the reins and the other resting on her hip, looking relaxed and confident on the pretty buckskin mare. She was talking to two of the other riders Merissa had seen in the Daffodil Parade. Judging by Cal’s glowing descriptions from the night before, the tall, dark-haired woman was Cal’s girlfriend, Sergeant Rachel Bryce, and her liver chestnut quarter horse named Bandit. The other was an older officer who was riding a pinto mare that seemed asleep, with one hind leg cocked and her eyes nearly closed. Cal was standing a few yards away, holding the reins of two horses, the one Billie had ridden in the parade and an enormous black-and-white paint. An auburn-haired woman on a stunning gray completed the colorful tableau. Merissa thought she might have seen her at the police station yesterday, but she couldn’t remember clearly.

  Merissa seemed to have lost control of her eyes, and her gaze moved back to Billie of its own volition even though she tried to pay attention to the horses, the arena, the trees in the park across the street—anything but Billie’s seat in the saddle. Her riding outfit had looked sexy yesterday, but now that she was on a horse it was even more appealing. Billie shifted her weight as the buckskin started walking toward the arena, and the navy fabric stretched across her toned ass as she moved in the saddle. Merissa’s own response was less subtle and graceful, probably as obvious to everyone as if a cartoon tongue had rolled out of her mouth and across the parking lot.

  She was about to make as dignified an exit as possible—or at least a fast one—when Cal waved her over to the arena with a welcoming grin. Merissa smiled in return as she approached them, but inside she struggled to find some composure. The group seemed friendly and comfortable together, and Merissa would be on the outside today. She was accustomed to the role since she wasn’t as quick to form relationships as other people seemed to be, but she felt a wave of jealousy at the sight of the tightly bonded unit. Merissa would have bet that Cal had played a big part in creating the cohesion, especially since her polo team showed the same connection with each other. While Merissa liked the members of her own team, they never socialized off the polo field, and probably as a result, their play was uninspired on it.

  Billie turned in her saddle as Merissa approached and gave her a quick wave before getting back to work. Her expression was friendly but distant, and Merissa wished her own reaction to seeing Billie was as calm. She was a professional chore to Billie, but Merissa’s reaction to her was far more personal. Inside, she felt the churning of desire and residual irritation and grief from the day before.

  Cal welcomed her with a hug, awkward with two horses attached to her, and then she introduced Merissa to everyone. “You’ll be riding Ranger,” she said, handing the Thoroughbred’s reins to Merissa. “We’re going to have a more experienced horse lead the rookie over the obstacles, so you and Billie will be paired together. Don and Fancy will be with Abby and Legs, and I’ll ride Merlin with Rachel and Bandit. Why don’t we start by warming up along the rail.”

  Abby hung back with Merissa and Cal while the rest of the riders filed into the arena and trotted around the edge of the ring. Merissa patted Ranger and talked quietly to him while she tightened the saddle’s girth and adjusted her stirrups.

  “Billie was raving about how beautiful your farm is, Merissa,” Abby said.

  Merissa couldn’t imagine Billie raving about anything since she seemed so composed. She wondered what the result would be if Billie’s control slipped away and the intensity under the surface was released. “Thank you,” she said. “It’s a nice place to live.”

  “Close to the city, but private,” Abby said with a nod. “Which leads me to my proposition.”

  Merissa listened while Abby and Cal told her about the mounted team’s two-month rest period, but after they mentioned having Billie be the one to come out to her home and care for the horses, she let their voices fade into the background. She glanced over at Billie, who was trotting around the arena and who seemed to be carefully not looking their way. She must know about this plan for her and the animals that would be her responsibility, so why wasn’t she the one asking Merissa to board them? She had a feeling both the raving about her farm and the decision to make it their home base for the next months had come from Abby, Cal, and Rachel. Billie was as much a pawn here as Merissa was.

  She held up her hand to stop Abby’s long and detailed discussion about commute times for the team. “I get it,” she said. “Everyone would save time coming to Gig Harbor for training instead of driving to Cal’s. But we’re talking fifteen minutes’ difference, maybe less if there’s traffic on the bridge. And I’ve played in matches at your farm, Cal. You can’t tell me you don’t have space for six extra horses. You could fit sixty more out there with no problem. I don’t need extra income from boarding, and you certainly don’t need to pay me when you could keep them at cost. So what’s the deal?”

  Abby looked at Cal, and then back at Merissa. There was a frankness in her expression, and Merissa suddenly realized her team would follow her anywhere, without question, if she led with the integrity Merissa sensed in her. “You’re a friend of Cal’s, Merissa, and anyone connected to her and this unit is family to us. You’ve been through something very traumatic, and the effects will last longer than you realize right now. Billie is, by far, the best person to have around when you need to talk or simply want someone there to understand what you’re going through.”

  “And she can kick ass if anyone tries to hurt you,” Cal added.

  Merissa felt her eyes widen in surprise. The thought of Billie going to battle for her was enticing, but the image was overshadowed—barely—by fear. As far as she’d been able to tell, the detectives agreed Dennis’s murder had been a fluke. He’d gotten in the way of the shooter’s real target, or he’d been the victim of a gang initiation. “Why would I be in danger? I didn’t see anything worth witnessing and no one seemed to believe the killer was aiming for Dennis in particular. There’s no reason anyone would. He is…was a great guy, and everyone loved him. Why would anyone want to…?”

  Merissa stopped herself when she heard the note of hysteria creeping into her voice. Abby was right. She might have gotten past the acute pain of losing Dennis the way she had, but the underlying emotions were still jumbled and hard to control. She turned away from them and mounted Ranger while she blinked away tears. He sensed her agitation and danced sideways, but she took a deep breath and made her body, at least, relax. When he was standing still, Abby spoke again.

  “Chances are, you’re correct about th
e motivation behind his shooting. We’re just being cautious and we want to take care of you. We’ll feel better if we know Billie is hanging around for a few weeks, while the investigation wraps up, and you’ll have someone close by in case you need to talk.” Abby raised her hands in a beseeching gesture. “Merely precautions.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Merissa said. “For now, let’s ride.”

  She nudged Ranger forward with her calves, but she squeezed harder than she had intended, and he jogged into the arena instead of walking like she had planned. She kept trotting, determined to look as if she had meant to ask him for the faster gait. Everyone was a winner in their plan except Billie. What did she get out of the deal? A chance to babysit Merissa and the horses? Since they’d be riding partners today, Merissa would talk to Billie about the situation before she accepted Abby’s proposal.

  She moved Ranger onto the rail behind Billie and tried to keep her eyes to herself as she let the horse draw out her personal pain. Ranger was soft to her aids and seemed to know the warm-up routine better than Merissa did. She watched the rest of the team occasionally as they maneuvered around the edges of the obstacles, but her focus kept returning to Billie. All the riders were technically very good—a testament to Cal’s teaching methods—but Billie had a different spark. She blended with the buckskin mare, even when the horse shied away from a flare Cal set on the ground near the gate. Merissa pulled Ranger to a halt and watched as Billie used her legs and seat to get the mare back on track. Soon, without any fuss, they were trotting along as if nothing had happened. The mare’s ears flicked back toward her rider more often than they were pointed at the scary tarps and contraptions in the arena, indicating that her focus was now on Billie.

  Merissa had been around plenty of talented riders and lots who had excellent formal training but little natural ability. Billie had a sense of feel that couldn’t be taught. Merissa had experienced her intuitive abilities the day before, and she’d had the same response as Billie’s mount. All her attention had centered on Billie since the first moment they’d met. The mare didn’t seem interested in fighting against Billie’s magnetism like Merissa did.

  Once they had trotted and cantered their horses around the arena, Cal assigned each pair to an obstacle. She and Billie were standing next to a wooden platform balanced precariously on a round log when they finally had a chance to speak.

  “Thank you again for yesterday,” Merissa said as soon as Billie rode up next to her. “I don’t know how I would have gotten through the day without your help.”

  Billie shrugged, but her smile looked pleased. “I didn’t do much except get you a burger.”

  “That’s what I meant,” Merissa said with a quick wink. “No one else thought of feeding me. Even though I’d been there for hours.” Hours, after witnessing a homicide. She pictured Dennis’s face again and shuddered, all teasing disappearing. She suddenly wanted Billie—anyone—to understand what she had gone through yesterday. “Seriously, you were what I needed at a time when I really hated needing anything or anyone.”

  “I’m glad,” Billie said quietly.

  Merissa felt tears threaten again, and she changed the subject. “So, how do we do this? I’ve never trained a police horse before.”

  “Ranger has seen obstacles like this plenty of times, so why don’t you take him over the bridge a few times to get accustomed to it. Then I’ll follow with Juniper.”

  Merissa walked Ranger in a circle and aimed at the arched wooden surface. She gathered him into a balanced position and carefully kept him steady as he stepped onto the bridge with his front hooves. He hesitated a moment, but she nudged him forward, and as soon as his front end passed the halfway point, the bridge tipped forward. She felt her balance shift back in the saddle, and Ranger hopped off the moving platform. Not bad. She gave him a pat on the neck. Most of her own horses would have freaked when the bridge rolled underneath them.

  “Try again,” Billie said with a less enthused expression than Merissa guessed was on her own face. “Remember, he’s a police horse and not a polo pony. He’s supposed to think for himself.” She hesitated for a second. “I can’t explain the difference. I guess I mean that you shouldn’t think of it as riding him over the bridge but more of going with him while he walks over it.”

  Billie was obviously floundering to describe what to her was a reflexive way to ride. Merissa sighed. She’d been riding since she was seven years old, starting with excellent teachers in France and continuing with the trainers her grandfather hired to instruct her. She just hadn’t been expecting the jolt of the moving bridge.

  She gave him a tap with her heels and walked toward the bridge with more impulsion, but she was getting tense and trying too hard. He balked and sidled around the bridge instead of walking over it. She gritted her teeth and turned him in a circle before trying again with more determination. Ranger walked over the bridge this time, but not even as smoothly as the first attempt. Merissa felt her short nails dig into her palms as she tightened her grip in frustration and she rotated her wrists to relax them. She was on a horse, the one place where everything usually made sense and felt right, but she couldn’t find herself amidst the turmoil surrounding her.

  “Why don’t you let me show you once,” Billie said. She slid off Juniper and reached for Ranger’s reins.

  “Because you’re the perfect horse trainer?” Merissa asked. She was out of sorts and embarrassed. She had expected to feel comfortable with any riding she had to do, not to feel like a green beginner. Billie had yet again managed to make her feel weak. “Just like you’re the perfect victim’s advocate?”

  “I’m nowhere near perfect, but I’ve been working with him for months now. I think I have a better feel for what he needs than you do. I just want to show you how he prefers to be ridden.”

  “Okay, Horse Whisperer. Wow me.” Merissa climbed off Ranger and handed him to Billie. She stood with her arms crossed over her chest and Juniper’s reins draped over her wrist while she watched Billie settle in the chestnut’s saddle. Was she imagining it, or did Billie look less at ease than she had during the warm-up?

  She wasn’t imagining it. Billie’s first walk over the bridge wasn’t much different from Merissa’s. Billie stopped for a moment and closed her eyes, apparently trying to pull herself together, but on the second try Ranger stopped and raised his head, refusing to go forward.

  “What’s up?” Cal asked in a deceptively casual voice. Merissa hadn’t realized she had walked over on her large paint until the pair was looming over her.

  “There’s something wrong with Ranger,” Billie said. “He doesn’t seem to be feeling well.”

  Merissa fumed. “So if I can’t get over the bridge right, it’s my riding. But if you can’t, the horse is sick?”

  Before Billie could answer, Cal walked in between them. “Whatever is going on, get it fixed right now. We’re here to train the horses, not snipe at each other.”

  Cal was scowling, but she glanced over at Rachel and gave her a quick wink. Merissa was certain Billie noticed it, too, because she rolled her eyes with an expression of annoyance.

  “They seem to think there’s something going on between us,” Merissa said to Billie, her gesture including Cal and Rachel. “They don’t realize I’m still tense after yesterday, and I know the day was a strain on you, too. I’m sorry I was snotty about my riding.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” Billie said. She seemed uncomfortable with the entire unit staring at the pair of them. “You’re an excellent rider. I didn’t mean to imply otherwise.”

  “And you are more experienced with these sorts of obstacles. I should have listened better.” She looked at Cal. “Satisfied?”

  “Maybe,” Cal said with a shrug, but she was grinning widely. “Let’s see if either of you can manage to walk Ranger over the bridge before it gets dark outside.”

  Billie’s face was a mask of tranquility again, and she took Ranger over the obstacle flawlessly. Merissa took notice
of how she handled him, and when it was her turn again, she managed to imitate their performance. Once she let go of her frustration with Billie and turned it on Cal instead, she enjoyed the new experience.

  “Abby talked to me about boarding the horses for the next couple months,” she said as they walked to the next obstacle. “I’d be happy to have you use my place for their vacation and training. And if you ever need to stay the night and ride early, there’s an apartment over the barn.” She saw Billie’s expression shift, but she couldn’t read her at all. She’d been prepared to say no to Abby—she didn’t need the caretaker they were obviously trying to supply in the form of Billie—but she wanted to prove to Cal that Billie’s presence meant nothing to her. And hopefully prove it to herself in the process. What was wrong with her? Were her swings really a result of stress from watching Dennis die? She heard the nearly indiscernible tremor when she spoke again.

  “Not that I’d be keeping you in the barn like a groom. It’s a nice apartment, but I’m sure nothing like your own home. You could stay in the house if you’d rather, since there’s plenty of room. Or just commute. Whatever.”

  Her last word, meant to convey a casual air, was squeakier than she’d have liked. Billie was still watching her without any readable emotions on her face, but Merissa was certain she’d felt a wall go up when she’d talked about the apartment.