“What you’ve gone through isn’t fair. Not when you didn’t do anything.”
“At least it’s over now.”
She sat up and gazed into his eyes. “It is over, Gabe. You’re free now, and you can do anything you want.”
“Except that I can’t. I can’t go back into the military. In some states I can’t vote. I can’t even apply for a job without admitting I’m a felon. Right now, my options don’t seem like much.”
“Are you worried?”
“Sometimes.” Gabe squirmed. “I think we’ve talked enough about me. What about you? Are you planning on going back to a desk and an office and meetings and lunches?”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do. Not anymore.”
“What changed?”
“I guess I did. At least, I’m trying to.”
“Because of your eating”—he hesitated—“issues?”
He’d told her his story. She might as well tell him at least a little bit more of hers.
“Before I went to the clinic, I ended up in the hospital. At first, I didn’t want to face the truth about what happened. But I was scared. I knew girls in college who slid too far into that abyss. Who almost died because they couldn’t bear to swallow even one calorie.”
She pulled her knees close to her body and slid a strand of hair through her fingers. “I didn’t want to end up like that, so I sought help.”
“That took a lot of courage.”
“I don’t know about that. Brett gave me all these pamphlets and brochures to look through. I finally admitted myself into a place so he’d leave me alone.”
“He loves you,” Gabe said. “It must have been hard for him to see you hurting and not be able to help.”
“It was,” she admitted. “And you’re right. He does love me.” He and AJ were probably the only ones who really did. “Brett was going through a hard time then too. Last summer wasn’t the easiest year of our lives, though I guess good things came from it.”
“How’s that?”
“AJ found Jonah. Brett met Dani.” She smiled broadly. “And look at them now. A couldn’t-be-happier family.” The same with AJ, Shelby, and their girls. Amy was the only one left out. The only one without someone to call her own.
Ironically, the man she wanted was right beside her. Despite his own past struggles, he was an honorable man, a loyal man. He’d be so disappointed if he knew all the things she’d done, the kind of life she’d been living before she’d gone into treatment.
This Ellen, who wasn’t afraid of horses, who would ride with him back to the springs, was probably more his type. At his age, he might be happy with his own ready-made family. No wonder he needed more than a couple of part-time farming jobs to make his way in the world. He needed money to support a wife and her children. If Amy felt anything for him at all, any lingering affection or respect, she needed to let him go.
As hard as it was, she couldn’t hold on to him for her own selfish purposes.
Not this time. Not with Gabe.
An ache settled into her heart just thinking about how much he could be hurt by someone with her cavalier attitude. She had to be sure this relationship stayed in the “just friends” category no matter how much she might want it to become something else. The hurt expanded, pressing against her chest.
Was this what it meant to love someone? To really, truly love someone?
“You are so beautiful,” he said. “I can’t believe you aren’t married.”
Startled by his unexpected change of subject, Amy said the first words that popped into her head. “I don’t think I’ll ever marry.”
“Never?” His fingers trailed along her arm. “Don’t you want to fall in love with someone? Have a family?”
She studied his face, then shifted to gaze out the long row of windows at the relentless storm. “I loved someone once. A long time ago. But our lives went in different directions.”
Gabe was silent for a moment, then he cleared his throat. “What if your paths crossed again?”
His question, laden with unspoken meaning, pressed against Amy’s heart. He knew she meant him, that she had lied about not remembering him. But it was too late for them.
“Too many years have passed. Too many things have gone wrong.”
She avoided his gaze as all the words she couldn’t say tightened her quivering stomach.
Don’t you see, Gabe? I’ve lived my life so differently than you would have wanted me to. I’m not worthy of your love, your respect. How could you possibly love me now? If you knew even half the things I’ve done, you’d leave here and never come back.
Her heart ached with longing, but she knew he wouldn’t kiss her now. If he’d wanted her, he’d have already kissed her. Something had stopped him—something had changed his mind. If only the past could be changed. But that was a vain wish. Do-overs only happened in children’s games.
29
At the sound of tires crunching on gravel, Gabe slid out from beneath the Ford F-150. He sure would be glad to get the heap running. Tess didn’t mind it when he borrowed her truck, but he didn’t like being dependent on someone else for transportation. Most mornings he rode Daisy to whichever field he’d be working in. No better way to start the day than in the saddle.
A sedan from the Glade County Sheriff’s Office parked near the Ford. Gabe wiped his hands on a rag, then greeted the deputy.
“What brings you here?” he asked while a million possibilities raced through his mind. If his parole had been revoked—but it couldn’t have been. And a sheriff’s deputy wouldn’t handle something like that. Would he?
I can’t go back. Please, God. No.
The prayer was short, fervent. And he hoped for an immediate answer.
“I’m Deputy Hank Hood. And you are?”
“Gabriel Kendall.”
“Are you working for Mrs. Marshall?”
“I’m her nephew.” Gabe refrained from asking any questions of his own, though he wished the deputy would forego the pleasantries and state his business.
“Her nephew? Is that right? You’re not from around here, are you?”
“No, I’m not.”
“You planning to stay long?”
Gabe tamped down his impatience. This deputy wasn’t about to be rushed. “As long as Tess will have me.”
“That’s real nice. Would she be home, your aunt Tess?”
Gabe gestured toward the stables. “She’s tending one of her horses.”
“Is there something wrong with it?”
“He’s off his feed.”
“Is that so?” Deputy Hood pressed his lips together and nodded knowingly. “Think I’ll go take a look-see. You don’t have any objection, do you?”
“I’ll go with you.”
Gabe led the deputy down the stable’s wide passageway to where Tess sat on a camp stool outside an open stall. The lines around her mouth and eyes were creased with tension. She stood as they drew near, her eyes registering surprise.
“Hank,” she said, glancing at Gabe. “What brings you here?”
“I wish it was a social call, Mrs. Marshall. I really do.”
“Gabe?” The worry lines deepened. “Is everything okay?”
“He didn’t tell me.”
Tess folded her arms and glared at the deputy. “Whatever you have to say, Hank, just spit it out.”
“It’s like this, ma’am.” He averted his gaze, then cleared his throat. “It’s like this. Someone called in a neglect complaint.”
Tess’s eyes practically popped out of her head. “Again? Who’s doing this?”
“Well, ma’am, they’re unanimous complaints.”
“You mean anonymous?”
“Yes, ma’am, that’s what I mean.” The deputy shrugged, but he obviously wasn’t happy about Tess correcting him. He looked as if he would be happier for the floor to open up and swallow him whole than continue the conversation. “The caller said some of these horses aren’t getting proper care.”<
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“I don’t understand this,” Tess said. “You know it’s not true.”
“Still have to investigate.” Hood shrugged again, then gestured toward the stall.
Knight Starr lay on his side, his head pillowed on an old blanket. His labored breathing disturbed the quiet of the stables. “What ails him?”
“I’m not sure. Flint Addison was here earlier. He took the usual samples—blood, hair, feces.”
“He’s not looking good.”
“He seemed fine this morning,” Gabe said before Tess could lash out at the deputy for stating the obvious. “I don’t see how anyone except us could even know he was sick.”
“The complaint’s not about any one animal,” Hood said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I need to look at all of ’em.”
“You do know, don’t you,” Gabe said, letting his exasperation show, “that Tess takes care of neglected horses for Animal Control? Most of the ones she has here are because of someone else’s neglect. Not hers.”
“I’m aware of that,” Hood said stubbornly. “But I still have to take a look.”
“Fine.” Tess strode from the barn, leaving the deputy and Gabe to follow in her wake. Despite the dire situation, Gabe found the deputy’s nervous jitters amusing. Tess had seized control, and she was angry.
They went to a set of pens, where four county horses recuperated from the neglect they’d endured under their former owners. In a nearby pasture, Daisy, Abner, Casper, and three other rescue horses who’d been with Tess for several months grazed along the tree line.
“Access to water. Good grazing. Do you see any neglect, Deputy Hood?” Tess emphasized his title.
“No, ma’am. Can’t say that I do.”
“I want you to take pictures of these.” She pointed to the penned horses. “Compare them with the photos taken when they were brought here.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“I insist.”
“There’s no need for you to get all riled up now. We get a complaint, someone has to look into it. You know that, Tess.”
“So now it’s ‘Tess’? I don’t think so.”
“Don’t be mad at me. I told the sheriff this was rubbish. All the horses you’ve taken in over the years—I know you’d never do anything to hurt one of them.”
Tess wrapped her arms around her body and averted her gaze. Her chiseled profile was as unmoving as a statue.
Not in anger, Gabe realized. But hurt.
“What are you going to do now, Deputy?” Gabe asked.
“Got no choice. Sheriff said to write up a formal report.”
Tess pivoted toward them and pulled her phone from her back pocket. “You’ll please excuse me. I’m going to give Sheriff Foster a call.”
“Now don’t be bothering the sheriff,” Hood said.
Tess rested her hand on Gabe’s arm. “Will you please help Hank with his report?” She glared at the deputy. “One of my horses needs me more than he does.”
“Of course,” Gabe said.
“Thank you.” She headed back for the barn, her eyes straight ahead, her posture stiff.
“She’s mad,” Hood said, “ain’t she?”
“More hurt than mad. Can you blame her?”
“I’m only following orders.”
“My guess is that the sheriff just lost himself a supporter.”
“Maybe two,” Hood mumbled.
Gabe answered the deputy’s questions and made sure he took the pictures Tess had requested. Just to be on the safe side, Gabe took photos with his own phone too. After the deputy left, he returned to the barn. Tess knelt beside Knight Starr.
“How is he?”
“I don’t know.” Her voice cracked. “Flint called a few minutes ago. It’ll take about a week to get results back, but he said one possibility is that it’s poison.”
“Poison? But how?”
“I can’t imagine.”
Gabe entered the stall and knelt beside her. “Could he have gotten into something lethal? I mean a weed of some kind?”
“I don’t see how.” She rubbed the gelding’s neck, then sat back on her heels. “There’s something else I need to tell you.”
“What is it?”
“I haven’t wanted to worry you. Not when you’ve already got so much on your mind.”
“Tess,” he said emphatically, “you can tell me anything.”
“I think someone was in the house when we were at the Heritage Celebration.”
Gabe rocked back on his heels in surprise. “What makes you think that?”
“The back door was unlocked. Of course, I thought maybe we’d just been in such a hurry, we’d forgotten. And it doesn’t really matter. It’s not like criminals hang around out here.”
“But . . . ?”
“There were other things, little things. Taken alone, I wouldn’t have thought much of any of them. But taken together?” She shook her head. “The clincher, though, was my computer. I bumped the mouse, and an Excel worksheet appeared on the screen. I know I didn’t have it open when I left here that morning.”
“What kind of worksheet?”
“Financial information. Personal information.” She gasped as if trying to catch her breath. “I know someone was snooping around my office.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before now?”
“What could you have done? Only worry, and there’s no need for that.”
“I’m a big boy, Tess. I’m allowed to worry, especially about something like this. About anything that concerns you.” He bit his lip, knowing he had to tell her now of his own suspicions. If he’d told her before, she would have told him what she knew. Maybe they should have called the sheriff’s office then. “Besides, I think someone was snooping in the barn that day too.”
“Why do you say that?”
“It was like you said—nothing definite. The door wasn’t latched, even though I hadn’t gone out that way and I didn’t think you had either. A couple of other things seemed out of place. But I dismissed it as paranoia.”
“So you didn’t tell me and I didn’t tell you.”
“Did you tell the sheriff when you called him?”
“I did. He’s coming out later, but it’s been almost three weeks.” She pressed her lips together and focused on the ailing horse. “Maybe we made a mistake. Not taking Tapley’s offer, I mean.”
Gabe wasn’t sure how she had jumped from a possible break-in to Tapley. But with her thoughts consumed by Knight Starr’s health, he guessed it made sense.
“How could you ever think of selling to that man?” he asked.
“He made a good offer. Certainly more than market value.”
Gabe exhaled heavily, trying to expel the rock settling in his gut. He couldn’t imagine someone else running this place. Someone who didn’t love it the way Tess did. Someone who didn’t know about the Hearth and its secrets.
“Seems to me he’d want someplace closer to the racetrack.”
“Maybe land is cheaper here.”
“But why does it have to be this land?”
“The stables are already here. We have a good setup. Though I don’t really know.” She swiped at her cheeks. “Rusty and I dreamed of leaving this place to you. It seemed like you loved it as much as we did. Maybe more. I’m sorry I won’t be able to do that.”
“It sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.”
“I don’t have a choice.”
“But you do.” He pressed his hand against his chest. “I’m here now. We’ll do this together.”
“Gabe, you don’t want to take on this responsibility. You need to find something that will support you.”
“I have. And it’s here.”
“Gabe . . .”
“Why not? Right now, I’m floundering. But if I could make a go, if we could make a go of this place, why not? If you and Rusty wanted me to have it anyway, why can’t I put in the sweat equity to make that possible?”
; “It has to earn money. And it’s not.”
“Then we’ll figure out a way to make that happen.”
“How?”
“If Tapley can raise racing stock here, then why can’t we?”
“He’s got the money to get started. We don’t.”
“Then we do something else. I can talk to Paul, to Jason. See what they think. Please don’t sell to Tapley. Give me a chance to try.”
“I think you’re asking for heartbreak.”
“My heart’s been broken before. It’ll heal.”
She slowly shook her head while stroking Knight Starr’s neck. “I don’t know, Gabe.”
“If I have to, I’ll ask Dad for a loan. If I put together a strong proposal, he might see it as an investment.”
“The last thing I want is for you to be indebted to your father on my account. I don’t want you to even ask him.”
“It won’t kill me to swallow my pride a bit.”
“It kills me.”
He smiled at how serious she was, and she smiled in return. “None of this solves our other problem,” he said. “Who was snooping around here? And why?”
“My guess is Tapley sent someone to be his snoop.”
Gabe nodded agreement. “Maybe I should have another talk with him.”
“Don’t you dare.”
He gripped the iron bar of the horse stall with both hands, tightening the muscles in his arms. Tess was right—staying away from Tapley was the wise thing to do—but he had to do something to keep any more snoops from invading their privacy.
“Think I’ll clean up and go into town for new locks,” he said. “Maybe we should think about a security system.”
“Another expense.”
“I know.”
Tess stroked Knight Starr’s neck, then looked at Gabe. “The strange thing is, whoever it was wanted me to know he was here.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because of the way things were out of place. Almost as if they were done on purpose.”
He thought back to the day in the barn when he’d felt that things were somehow off without really being able to pinpoint how or why. “That doesn’t make sense.”
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