by Karen Anders
It was satisfying work—more than satisfying, she thought, as she replayed some of the kids’ reactions today as they spent time around these magnificent beasts.
In the few months since she’d worked to get the program going, it had never ceased to move her, the way the animals brought out so much in jaded teens who were otherwise so closed off, mostly due to forces beyond their control and largely terrible situations and circumstances. She wasn’t sure if she could save any of these kids, the system was a tough place to be, but she hoped she could give them some values and responsibility, show them what it was to work hard for a good cause. Give them a purpose for now and maybe...just maybe they would find something they could use for their continuing journey into adulthood.
She wanted to enrich their lives, giving them windows of opportunity to express and enjoy themselves in ways that conventional therapy methods could not. Oftentimes, the look on a teen’s face made it clear how vitally important their being here really was.
It was invigorating, but also exhausting. A whole lot of emotions were being expended into the air of Colton Valley Ranch Stables every single day, and it did zap a person, even if it was for the very best of reasons. Today had been one of those days. She’d debated even working with Clay, not wanting to risk him or Lotus picking up on her less-than-sharp reflexes, or worse, her tension. Tension that really had nothing to do with the day she’d put in, and everything to do with the man who had invaded her world. But the day she’d put in made hiding those feelings a little tougher. And she needed all the stamina she could muster to make it through this lesson.
She heard some stamping down the aisle and saw it was Mimosa getting shoed. Ah, bad timing. That horse was ornery on her best days and nasty on her worst. She didn’t recognize the farrier with a stable hand. He must be new here.
Torn between teaching Clay and calling their lesson quits to deal with the unruly mare, she was just about to get Lotus back into her stall and postpone the lesson when Jake appeared. That man seemed to know exactly when a horse needed to be gentled or soothed. And, just like before, Mimosa calmed as if by...magic.
All up and down the row of stalls, equine heads popped out. Lotus turned and with a soft nicker greeted Jake as if he was one of their own. It was eerie and uncanny. He stood framed in the light, his gray broad-brimmed Stetson casting his face in shadows, his plaid shirt open at the neck, tucked into a pair of worn jeans as he stood with his thumb hooked in the front pocket. The hair on the back of her neck rose and she found that she was holding her breath.
Oh, for the love of God, she wasn’t going to buy in to it, but she was beginning to suspect Jake had some skill which only made her want to run in the other direction.
Then Jake looked up and Mimosa sidled, the look on his face was thunderstruck, pain rolling across his features like a tidal wave. She followed his line of vision right to Clay.
Clay, standing in profile while his attention was on the horse, sensed something, too, as he looked over his shoulder at Jake. Clay’s head whipped back around and he took a quick breath and it looked for a moment like fear in his eyes as if he saw the long arm of the law reaching for him.
Her attention went back to Jake, sensing his sudden withdrawal, as if walls had suddenly gone up, Mimosa settled once again.
With Jake’s expression fixed and shuttered, there was a grimness around Jake’s mouth that made her stomach drop.
Their eyes held, her stomach twisting, feeling as though she had witnessed something, very personal, and so painful.
The farrier finished and Mimosa was led away. Jake settled the gray Stetson onto his head like he was going into battle, and headed toward her and Clay.
She couldn’t help but wonder what had put that look of bitterness in his eyes.
Chapter 4
Jake was still reeling from his first glimpse of one of Alanna’s teens. It was as if he’d seen a ghost. He resembled Matt so closely that in the dim light of the barn, he thought for a minute it was him. But of course, reality sunk in. Matt was dead. Jake had failed him.
The emotions about his brother’s death had been contained, but were still volatile and he reined in his guilt and shame at being unable to help Matt when he really needed Jake the most.
As Jake approached, the look in Alanna’s eyes compelled him to put up a wall. He couldn’t give in to the pain that still lurked and hit him when he least expected it. The sound of a laugh, the whiff of peppermint or the strum of a guitar. Matt’s presence was gone, but the memories of him lingered like long-lost ghosts.
He shook off the effects of his lapse in control, which got easier as he neared Alanna and the kid.
Clay looked at him like he was a cop and Jake relaxed into projecting calm, just as he had with the pretty sorrel mare. Jake recognized the wide eyes, the nervous disposition. Street kids had a sixth sense when it came to the law. He recognized all the signs he’d seen in his kid brother. But Matt was gone and he had a job to do.
“Good afternoon,” Alanna said, and there was something about her voice that tangled him up every time. “This is Clay Ford. Clay, this is Jake McCord.”
Jake stretched out his hand and noticed how Clay’s curiosity replaced his fear. “You’re the guy who’s supposed to train that crazy black horse.”
“One and the same. Are you the guy who’s going to get some lessons from Alanna?”
“Yeah, what of it?”
“Nothing. Just being nosy.”
That look came over the kid’s face again.
Jake turned to find a man walking toward him from the opposite end of the stable. He had a halter and lead rope in each hand and dragged his right foot, just a tad. A memory niggled at him and he studied the man harder. A jolt shocked through him. It was the slight drag that tipped him off. This guy reminded him of the man who had killed Tim Preston. Jake was sure of it. It had been dark and he hadn’t gotten a really good look at his face, but that slight drag. He chased the guy but couldn’t get a hand on him. He’d disappeared, but that limp stuck in his mind. He’d scoured the area for the perp afterward and looked at every mug-shot book available, but was never able to identify the drug dealer. He would remember his voice for sure. He’d heard it through Tim’s mic.
The man came alongside them and Jake watched him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Clay stiffen and look down. Jake heard the gunshot again in his mind, the sound deafening in the quiet night. The anguished sound Tim made as he was hit, then the thud of his body as he’d fallen to the concrete. The sound of running footsteps. Then Tim’s labored breaths. He’d whispered through the pain, “Tell Jen I love her.” Then one long breath as he’d died.
The horse, Thundersparks, made a soft whickering sound, bringing Jake out of his thoughts. He’d endured a lot within the last few years, losing his brother and then the rookie. This job was bringing up a lot of baggage.
Henry drew closer and she dropped her head to snuffle around at his hands.
“Treats after you work a bit, my pretty,” he said. Jake thought Henry’s voice, the deep nasal quality of it, seemed familiar. Could he be the guy who had killed Tim? Jake would have to keep his eye on him. He was undercover and he didn’t want to blow it, and second, he at this point had no proof.
He would bide his time and watch this lowlife like a hawk. The man opened the stall door and clipped one of the lead lines to the halter, led the horse out and cross-tied her close to the open door to the paddock.
He moved to another stall door and haltered the horse inside. As he led the horse out, his gaze connected with Jake’s and in addition to a flash of something in his eyes before he masked it, there was something dark, something evil and it stirred Jake’s protective instincts like nothing else he’d ever known. Rage rose up like a beast inside him, wild, rabid, unchained. He fought it with everything he had, managing to wrestle that monster down and remain calm. He nodded once in greeting.
As the man passed with the big buckskin gelding, Alanna said, “Hen
ry, could you work Damsel, too? She’s due to be bred and it’ll be good for her to get a bit more exercise.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Henry said.
“Jake, this is Henry Swango. This is Jake McCord. He’s training Zorro.”
“Better you than me, mister. That’s one crazy horse.”
Jake forced himself to take the hand Henry offered, but made the handshake brief.
Tamara came into the barn. “Alanna, could I have a few minutes?”
“Clay, maybe we better save this lesson until later.”
“Sure,” he said, but Jake could tell the teenager was disappointed.
“I could do it,” Jake said before he thought better of it. It was uncanny how much Clay reminded him of Matt. That might have been what was motivating him, but he hated to see the kid not get on a horse. There was nothing like riding.
Alanna said, “Are you sure, Jake? You weren’t hired to give riding lessons. If my brother...”
“You let me handle that. I’ll take over until you get back.”
“All right,” she said and walked out with Tamara.
Henry moved on after a glance at Clay who scowled and looked away. He headed toward the rear paddock, then paused and looked back at Jake as if he was making sure he either recognized him or didn’t. He slung a halter on a hook by the next stall door and leaned inside. “I’m coming for you next, your ladyship, so no point trying to play invisible.” Henry chuckled as he continued to the end.
“Let’s take her out to the paddock,” Jake said, moving up closer to Clay. “You’ll want to choke up on the lead rope and take her halter, but just on the edge. You don’t want to get your hand wedged in there if she decides to bolt.”
“Bolt?”
“Yeah, but...” He indicated the horse.
“Lotus.”
“But Lotus looks very docile. Aren’t you, girl.” The horse nickered softly at him again.
“She likes you.”
“She likes you, too.” Jake placed Clay’s hand on the halter and coiled up on the rope a bit. “You want to walk her to the center of the aisle. Stay just to the front of her forelegs, but to the side of her head.”
“Not out in front?”
“You can direct her with the rope, but I want you to stay where you can see if she’s reacting negatively to anything. You don’t want to be five feet ahead of her and have her spook or rear and yank you on your ass, or worse.”
Clay snickered. “No. Ass-yanking doesn’t sound like fun.”
Jake laughed. “It isn’t.”
“Says the guy with experience?”
“Hey, everyone has to start somewhere, me included.”
He was pretty sure Alanna was avoiding him. After dropping off those towels a few days ago and his attempts to get her to start to see him less as a stranger and more of a friend, he wanted some more alone time with her. But on this big spread it was hard to accomplish that with all the people who worked here, not to mention Alanna was constantly busy. He felt frustrated and not only in trying to corral Alanna, but his training with Zorro wasn’t going well and he couldn’t quite figure out why.
Most horses...all right, every horse he’d ever come into contact with, he could bend to his will, show him he was the leader and they would fall into line. Not Zorro. He fought him every step of the way. It had been three days and he still couldn’t get close to the animal. He kept moving away every time Jake approached. He’d even spent some time inside the paddock just letting Zorro get used to his presence.
“You think you can tame that stallion?”
“I believe I can.”
“And, that’s enough?”
He had to focus on the training. He wasn’t here for that, but the horse drew him and Jake wanted him to have a better quality of life. Right now he was wary of everyone. Just as Clay was. He was a lot like Zorro. Abused, lost, alone.
“Don’t underestimate the power of believing something will happen. I visualize it and keep an open mind. Anything is possible.”
Jake should focus more on why he was here and that was to get information about the family. He might have established motive for Alanna; she wanted to actually be in control, not to have to play second fiddle to her father and meddling brother, but he couldn’t seem to fully give over to the thought she masterminded her father’s kidnapping.
Clay snorted. “Right. That’s what adults say to encourage kids even when there’s not even a snowball’s chance in hell it will happen.”
He wasn’t here to help disillusioned teenagers find their way. Jake turned to him and stopped. “Here is fine.” Then he took a breath. “You have all you need to get where you want to go. Seriously, believing is powerful.” Clay shrugged like he didn’t care. Jake hadn’t been able to get through to Matt, either. “Drape the rope over her neck,” he said, using hand gestures to show how he should do it. “Then hook it around, so it makes one big hoop. You’ll use that as your reins.”
Henry was on the far end of the paddock working with the three horses on a lunge line. Jake didn’t like this development. He was worried Henry would try to recruit one of the impressionable, vulnerable teens. He was more determined to keep tabs on this potentially dangerous ranch hand. “I don’t need a bridle thing?” Clay asked, his voice a bit wobbly. Jake focused on him again.
“Apparently not with Lotus. Ms. Colton would have bridled her once she got the horse out of the stall.”
His expression was wry. “She gave me a horse that babies ride.” It was clear Clay was disgusted.
“Not necessarily, but an easy one. Not everything needs to be a battle, especially the first time you learn to ride.”
Lotus snorted and shook her mane. Clay jumped away with a startled look.
Jake tried not to laugh. He went over to the kid and said, “That’s a contented snort. She wants you to ride her.”
“Don’t laugh,” Clay said.
Jake nodded, schooling his features. “Let’s get you up on her.”
Then Alanna’s soft voice came from right beside him. “Jake is a professional. He would never laugh.”
Caught off guard, Jake turned toward her and caught her eye. The gleam of shared amusement was in the green depths. He must have been concentrating too much. Hardly anyone sneaked up on him. Being this close to her made it hard to think clearly. She shifted her focus to the horse, then to Clay. Pointing at the stirrup, she said, “Hold the pommel with your left hand, left foot in the stirrup, and up you go. Right leg over the back end, one smooth lift as you push up on your left leg.”
Jake backed off as Alanna took over. He lingered, watching her patiently and expertly teach Clay to ride, keeping part of his attention on Henry. The surprise and joy on the teen’s face obviously fueled Alanna.
So the Colton heiress wasn’t as much of a princess as Jake had first thought and she was getting down into the trenches with her staff. Here she was giving her time and resources to this troubled kid. The pull of her was just this side of magnetic. His instincts told him that she couldn’t have done anything to her father, but the facts warred with his gut.
Chatting up the staff, he’d only found out the family was private but one effusive stable hand talked about Marceline Colton, Whitney’s daughter from her first marriage whom Eldridge adopted and made into a Colton. How she always seemed to be lurking around the stables. He had photos of all the Coltons and he had spied a beautiful, shapely blonde several times, but he hadn’t yet been introduced. Then he’d hit pay dirt with Tamara. She had let it slip that Alanna and her father were at odds about the stable. She’d overheard them arguing one day before he’d disappeared. There seemed to be some dispute as to who was in charge. Tamara said Alanna worked hard and knew what she was doing. Her family should let her actually run the stables instead of acting like she was the figurehead.
It made Jake waffle and wonder all over again if Alanna had made the decision to do away with her father and take control of the stables that way. Now it seemed Fowler wa
s blocking her and usurping her authority when he bought the horse Alanna didn’t approve in advance. That must have rankled, especially if Alanna had something to do with Eldridge’s kidnapping.
With the lesson over, Alanna sent Clay off to dinner. As she headed back to the stable, he came up alongside her.
“You enjoyed that.”
She was beaming as they passed into the barn’s interior. The sun was waning, getting ready to set. There was a vibrancy about her that added color to her cheeks and lit her from within. And she’d been pretty powerful stuff before.
She reached Lotus’s stall and he slid the door open as she led the horse inside. “Was this your brainchild? Colton Valley Ranch Gives Back?” He leaned his back against the side of the stall door as she lifted up the stirrup and hooked it over the saddle horn. She reached for the buckle on the girth and grunted a little as she released the tab.
“Yes, it was. I have always wanted to help the community, get the word out there about how wonderful horses can be for pleasure and work and therapy. Some of the kids are responding beautifully to working at the stables where they hadn’t responded in any other capacity.”
She pulled the saddle from Lotus’s back. Jake pushed off the wall and took it from her. “Like Clay.”
He faced her and their fingers brushed again, but Alanna didn’t remove her fingers. A whiff of her fragrance among all the other pungent smells of the stall only added to his attraction. The killer was it wasn’t some fancy perfume. It was the fresh scent of soap and shampoo. His body soared to life. Like it needed encouragement. Who’d have thought the wafting scent of citrus could give a guy a raging hard-on?
She let go of the saddle and turned back to Lotus. “Exactly like him. He was living mostly on the streets, got caught for shoplifting and instead of juvie, he came here.” She unhooked the lead rope and reached for a brush hanging in a basket. Pulling one out, she started to stroke the horse’s coat. “I offered him a constructive atmosphere instead of destructive. A place where he could live and get back what it felt like to be safe.”