Farraday Country

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Farraday Country Page 7

by Chris Keniston


  “Are you sure I can’t help?”

  “Yeah, I won’t be long.”

  Despite that she couldn’t see him with her back to him, he nodded, even though the last thing he wanted was to wait on the sidelines. Not that he had a problem taking orders from a woman. He’d done that in the Marines and he did that on the police force. Heck, he’d been taking orders from his mother most of his life. But something about the way this young woman took command, especially in what many people would consider a man’s world, made him want to follow her anywhere. Even to hell and back.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “Don’t we have our hands full?” Hannah pulled a treat from her pocket and held her palm out to Maggie. Back home she’d rescued the horse from a less caring owner. But it had been the jackass before that who had left Maggie gun shy of most men. “You like those, don’t you?”

  Maggie gave a nod of her head before nudging up beside Hannah. Even though she was in a hurry, she took an extra second to scratch under the mare’s chin. Making quick work of brushing off any dust and picking out the horse’s hooves, Hannah moved to her neck, reaching for the mane and tail comb in her pocket and realized she must have left it with Dale. Giving Maggie a small rub behind her ear, Hannah whispered, “Be right back, girl.”

  She came to a stop in front of Dale and his empty hands. Blast. “I must have left the comb in the tack room. Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

  Dale gave her a nod, but like a few moments ago, said nothing. She picked up her pace, nearly trotting to the tack room, her mind bouncing around with multiple ideas. She needed to hurry. She didn’t like to leave Maggie alone in her stall half ready to ride, and she needed to make a good impression on Mrs. Hampton so the woman would give a good report to Mrs. Stewart before Hannah reached out to her for a donation. But more than anything, the thing bouncing back and forth in her thoughts was how much she wished Dale had actually spoken his response. Something in the timbre of his voice struck a nerve. A good nerve. She hadn’t realized how much she enjoyed hearing it, until he stopped speaking. And wasn’t that the silliest thing you ever heard. She was a full-blown grown-up now, had been for years, and yet she was thinking and behaving like a besotted teen. She seriously needed to get out and socialize more.

  Grabbing the comb she’d dropped, she spun and hurried out the door toward the stall. For a quick second she wondered where Dale had gone. Even took another second to glance behind her to see if he’d wandered off to visit a different horse. Not till she was almost to Maggie’s stall did she hear the voice she had missed.

  Her heart rate galloped as quickly as Maggie could cross an open field. And yet, it wasn’t adding up. A man in Maggie’s stall would have the horse kicking up her feet, knocking into the sides and making a whole heck of a lot of noise. The poor horse had almost been put down after badly hurting a stable hand who had ignored the sign on the door warning men to keep out.

  Scared of what she might find, and completely confused over the soft voice and the quiet horse, Hannah approached the stall with caution. For a second she even considered that perhaps Maggie had gotten out and made her way to the pasture and Dale was simply standing there talking to himself. Not the case. Almost afraid to breathe, she peaked around to see Dale at the horse’s side, scratching her chin and whispering so softly Hannah could barely make out his next words. The timbre of his voice, the fluctuations in his tone, a gentleness that could have put a sacrificial lamb at ease, all worked together to instantly soothe any concerns she might have had. Obviously Dale’s voice was having the same effect on Maggie.

  If not for the sound of clacking heels in the distance, Hannah would’ve gladly stood outside the stall for the rest of the day listening to that low murmur. Lowering her voice and moving forward slowly, she approached. “It sounds like Mrs. Hampton is here. I need to go greet her. Why don’t you come with me?”

  Dale switched from scratching to gently stroking the horse’s neck. “Of course.”

  Waiting for him to exit before her, Hannah couldn’t decide where to start. Whether to raise the roof over his having disobeyed her instructions, or to bow at his feet in awe of how he managed to get inside the stall without upsetting Maggie. She didn’t have time for either as she could see Mrs. Hampton walking toward them at a quick clip with Catherine at her side.

  “There you are,” Catherine said with her public relations smile firmly in place.

  “We were getting one of the horses ready to ride,” Hannah said.

  Mrs. Hampton glanced up and over. “Very nice. But that won’t be necessary today.”

  “We’re very proud of what we’ve built here.” Catherine continued to smile.

  “Connor has spared no expense to create the best possible adaptive riding stable,” Hannah added.

  “Yes, that’s what Mrs. Farraday here,” Mrs. Hampton gestured to her left, “has been explaining to us. Mrs. Stewart spoke very highly of you. But my son’s problems are very different from her granddaughter’s.”

  “Therapy or adaptive riding works wonders for a wide variation of people in multiple situations.” Hannah joined her cousin in flashing the perfect smile.

  “Yes, well broken bones will heal in time. But not so with the rest of the human psyche.”

  It took an extra bit of effort for Hannah not to flinch at Mrs. Hampton’s words. Mrs. Stewart’s granddaughter had more than a few broken bones. She’d been badly injured in a car accident and had been challenged to improve muscle strength coordination and mental acuity. The will to move had been there but her mind and her body had somehow misconnected. Her bones had healed long ago.

  “I have some work to do in my office.” Catherine took a step back. “If you will excuse me, Mrs. Hampton, Hannah can show you whatever you would like to see.”

  The woman in casual attire that Hannah knew had probably cost as much as her monthly salary, smiled politely at Catherine and turned to face Dale. “And you are?”

  “I’m here to help.”

  “Oh, a volunteer.” This time she gave the man more of her attention, sizing him up so casually that most people might not have noticed what she’d done. Whatever she had seen she must have liked because the plastic society smile she’d worn since coming into the stables bloomed with sincerity.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Dale returned the smile.

  “Shall we take a look at the arena?” Hannah asked.

  Mrs. Hampton nodded. “Yes, that is why I came.”

  Leading the way, Hannah walked between Mrs. Hampton and Dale. “I thought you might be bringing your son.”

  “I did.”

  “Oh.” Hannah blinked quickly, looking around the open spaces.

  “He wouldn’t get out of the car.” The woman’s voice was harsher but Hannah recognized it as mostly frustration. “I’ll try again after I’ve looked around. Or better yet,” she stopped to face Dale, “why don’t you go see if you can talk my son into joining us? He’s probably tired of women telling him what to do.”

  “I…” Dale cast a furtive glance in Hannah’s direction, a silent plea for what to do.

  She didn’t like it but there wasn’t much she could say or do now besides offer a silent hint of a nod. They needed a good report to get back to Mrs. Stewart.

  “Very well,” Dale continued, “I can certainly try. Where did you park?”

  Mrs. Hampton pointed behind him. “In front of the office building.”

  Hannah followed the woman’s finger then caught Dale once again seeking her approval with his eyes. She nodded again and watched for a short beat as he turned on his heel and walked briskly to the exit, a slight limp in his gait. She’d forgotten about his leg and his discomfort the night they’d met. Maybe she should try getting her new volunteer on a horse too.

  ****

  Dale wasn’t sure what to expect. Once he was within view of the car, he assessed the lone figure on the passenger side. Clean cut young man anywhere from fifteen to twenty. Unlike your average person of that ag
e, he wasn’t fidgeting with the radio or glued to his cell phone. He sat perfectly still, eyes ahead. Dale wasn’t even sure he’d seen the kid blink. The closer he got to the car, Dale realized the windows were both rolled down. Good, he didn’t have to worry about startling the teen by tapping on the window.

  “Nice day, isn’t it?” He probably could’ve thought of something more original, but simple usually worked best.

  The passenger turned to face him. “I want to go home.”

  He’d faced angry kids enough times before to recognize when a really angry kid was in front of him. He also knew at this point trying to coax him out of the car would be a wasted effort. “Where’s home?”

  The kid didn’t bother to face him again. And he was definitely still a kid, no matter what his mother thought. Dale would venture a guess of seventeen. Maybe eighteen, but if he were a legal adult, Dale would bet a year’s salary the kid would not be here now. Dale was sticking with seventeen.

  Almost under his breath, the teen mumbled, “Midland.”

  “Never been out that way. Always lived in Midland?”

  The kid nodded. No help in conversation here.

  “Worked with a guy once from around there. He claimed there was a desert with dunes as high as the Sahara.”

  No reaction.

  Dale waited a short beat. “Said he’d pretend he was at the dunes to make the sandbox more tolerable.”

  If the kid were a dog his ears would have perked. His shoulders stiffened and his chin lifted. Dale waited a little longer and sure enough the kid turned to face him. “Sandbox? You in the military?”

  “Not now.”

  “But you were?”

  “Marines.”

  Straightening a little taller in his seat, the reluctant teen met his gaze for the first time.

  Dale stuck his hand into the window. “Dale Brubeck. Nice to meet you.”

  The way the young man stared at the dangling appendage Dale thought for a serious moment that the kid wasn’t going to respond. Slowly he raised his hand and shook. “Clark Hampton.” Dale considered what to say next when the kid added, “Thank you for your service.”

  Dale nodded, pleased the harshness in Clark’s demeanor seemed to be slipping away, but not sure where to go next.

  “How long were you in?” the kid asked.

  “Eight years.”

  Clark scanned Dale’s arms and legs quickly, met his eyes once again. “Why’d you leave?”

  “It was time.” Some of his buddies were still in. Willing, some eager, to put in their twenty, but for him and DJ it had been time to go.

  “You work with SEALs?” Clark kept his attention on Dale.

  He supposed that was a good thing. “Some. Not often. I was an MP.”

  “Military police.” The kid seemed to be weighing the words. Once more Dale didn’t have a clue if that was a good or bad thing, but common sense told him if he still had the teen’s attention, any attention had to be a good thing.

  Footsteps grew louder behind Dale, and Clark’s gaze shifted past him. The tension that had slowly given away during what little conversation they’d shared sprang back to life.

  Mrs. Hampton and Hannah approached the car in near parade formation, the only similarity their pace and gait. Where Hannah was young and casual, and even under the mantle of responsibility, her eyes sparkled with the joy of life. Mrs. Hampton, on the other hand, looked to have fallen off the pages of a fashion magazine. Pressed slacks, expensive blouse, not a hair out of place, and her leather boots with narrow heels would be more suitable for a stroll down Fifth Avenue than crossing a Texas ranch.

  “I think this will be just fine, if we can get Clark out of the car next time.” The lady nodded at Hannah and quickly skirted around the front of the car without ever glancing at her son.

  Hannah waited until the car was almost to the front gate before turning to face him. “Maybe I’ll warm up to her.”

  “Or freeze.” He shook his head. “The kid’s angry, but reachable. Don’t know what the mother’s excuse is.”

  “Frustration. I’d hope to have a few seconds at least to talk to her son, but she moved so fast I couldn’t even get in an introduction.”

  “We didn’t really have that much time, but if I’m reading him correctly, he’s impressed by the Marine Corps.”

  Hannah crossed her arms and cocked her head looking up at him. “A way with horses, and now a way with rebellious teens. What other surprises do you have in store for me?”

  And wasn’t that a loaded question?

  CHAPTER TEN

  The startled look on Dale’s face wasn’t what Hannah had expected.

  “I think it’s too soon to determine if I have a way with teenagers, horses, or anything else.”

  “You may be right about the boy, but you definitely have a way with horses.” Hannah turned toward the barn. “Let’s get everything wrapped up and head for the house.”

  “So when do the lessons start?” Dale kept in step beside her.

  “Monday.”

  “You don’t look very happy about that.”

  “We’re pretty much ready. Insurance and other business details are in order. I still need to work on a volunteer list and a few miscellaneous loose ends. But all in all, we can make this work.”

  “I don’t know how long I’ve been grounded for, but as long as I’m here, I’m willing to help.” Dale chuckled. “That is, if your aunt agrees.”

  Hannah reached the open doorways to the pasture where Maggie and a couple other horses pranced about a fenced pasture. These animals remained indoors a good part of the day, cooped up in their stalls. Soon they would be working hard helping children and adults with their lives. Whenever possible, it was nice to just let them be horses.

  “That is,” she enunciated clearly, “if you know anything more about horses than how to sweet talk them.”

  “I’m a fast learner.”

  Shifting focus from the horses to the man at her left, she bit back a grin. What she wouldn’t give to find the key to opening this man up and seeing what made him tick. Why was DJ willing to go out on a limb for a stranger? “I bet you are.”

  Startled eyes wide as saucers blinked back at her.

  She couldn’t help smiling at him. “Has anyone ever told you you’re adorable when you’re flustered?”

  “I’m pretty sure neither the words flustered nor adorable are used very often in reference to me.” This time Dale’s startled look was replaced by a full-wattage smile that made her mind go blank.

  Standing perfectly still a beat or two longer than required, she drew in the details of his face, the crinkle at the corners of his eyes when he smiled, the dimple on his left cheek, the flecks of gold in the sea of caramel. A whinny in the distance pulled her attention back to the business at hand. “It was amazing to see Maggie with you.”

  Dale put his foot on the bottom rung of the fence, and leaning forward, rested his forearms along the top, watching the horses in the distance. “I just talked to her.”

  “Well you must be fluent in equine, because any other strange male who would have tried to set foot in that stall would most likely have been catapulted into the next county.”

  “I find that hard to believe. She’s a sweet girl.”

  “And you would know that how?” Hannah leaned over the fence as well. Maybe at ease like this he’d be willing to open up some more. “Have you been holding out on me? Were you raised on a horse ranch in Wyoming, or perhaps in bluegrass country?” She was only kidding, but if he admitted either of the possibilities, she wouldn’t have been at all surprised.

  “Nope. City boy through and through. Army brat to be more precise.”

  “Right. New York and Philadelphia. Where do you call home?”

  “I don’t.” He shrugged. “I guess home is wherever I hang my hat.”

  For the first time since meeting him yesterday, despite the sore back, despite the scare this morning with the blood clot, only now did she
feel sad for him. Maybe she was better off not knowing more. She always felt extremely lucky to have had such a strong tight knit family. There was something very special about home. As much as she loved being at Aunt Eileen and Uncle Sean’s, it wasn’t truly her home. And it hurt her to think Dale didn’t have any place to call his.

  “Don’t look so serious.” Fingers casually linked, he turned to stare at her. “I’m happy. King of the road.”

  “Ah, yes. The handsome king on his powerful iron steed, sweeping women off their feet. How could I forget?”

  “You mean knocking them off their feet?” One side of his mouth tipped up in a lopsided smile. A smile that had her once again staring at his features with fascination. “I really am sorry.”

  “You’ve said that already. Apology already accepted.”

  He shrugged one shoulder, and the other side of his mouth tilted up for an even smile. “Are you still going to check out a horse?”

  It took him a few seconds to remember the reason she’d come to Connor’s in the first place. “It’s getting late. I don’t have time to put her through the paces.”

  Dale rolled his neck from side to side, stretched his shoulders, and Hannah remembered his sore back.

  “But, before I bring the horses inside, it wouldn’t hurt you any to show your stuff.”

  “Excuse me?” That flustered look took over Dale’s face again.

  “You heard me. Come on.”

  It didn’t take long to have Dale in front of Patience, shaking his head. “I don’t know about this. Your aunt might come after us.”

  “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” Hannah saddled Patience quickly and walked her in between the mounting blocks. “Just like climbing onto a motorcycle.”

  Dale reached for the saddle horn and hefted himself up and over with a slightly muffled groan. “Not exactly.”

 

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