Candace Carrabus - Dreamhorse 01 - On the Buckle (29 page)

I couldn’t see any open land, but that didn’t mean anything.
 

Hank had said the “little spit of woods” wasn’t far from Malcolm’s hay field, but that could be a stone’s throw or a mile. We continued, and I sensed Renee’s growing agitation with my silence, but couldn’t stop studying the woods, wondering about the trailer, and reconsidering my dreams.

“Vi!” she yelled after a several minutes.

I twisted in the saddle and faced her. “What?”

“You’re creeping me out. What’s wrong with you? You sure you didn’t hit your head in that car accident? I should not have let you ride.”

“Sorry. Nothing’s wrong. Just thinking.” I gathered up the reins. “You’re right. Let’s go.” I sent Gaston into a brisk trot.
 

I looked behind us, but the thick woods already concealed the trailer. It was easy enough to find. As soon as possible, I’d return.

Alone.

- 31 -

Renee showed me another way back to the barn along a narrow track following an old barbed-wire fence until we picked up one of the public riding trails. That would bring us out near the cow field on the west side. Between her and Sandy, I was beginning to feel like I knew my way around.

She pointed to the advanced trail, the one with a few jumps, and we took it, cantered over the fences, and then walked for some time in quiet.

“How long have you been riding at Winterlight?” I asked.

“A couple of years, I guess. Leroy’d been coming around longer.”

“You ever think of getting your own horse?”

“We were thinking about it, but Malcolm always had one for me to ride. Eventually, I’ll buy Smitty back. It’s what Leroy would have wanted. And he’s a good ride.” She combed her fingers through his silvery mane.

“Do you go by yourself most of the time, or with…”

“Oh, I go out with Dex One sometimes.”

“I meant, riding.”

“Yeah, me too.” She grinned, then said, “I told you he was fine, didn’t I? Don’t let that limp fool you. Anyway, him and Leroy were best buds.”

I laughed. Dex One and Renee? Why not?

“Leroy used to say that people are like horses—herd animals—not meant to be alone. They need to rub up against each other to really be happy. So, me and Dex, we rub up against each other.”

“And you’re happy.”

She just smiled. “And if you ask me, New York, you’re overdue to join the herd, know what I mean? You’ve been out on your own too long.”

Was it that obvious? “Guess I haven’t found the right herd. Anyway, I like being boss mare.”

“You can pretend to be boss mare all you want, but if you haven’t got a herd, you haven’t got anything to be boss of. Except yourself. And that gets old fast.” She shook her head. “Um, um, um. Real fast.”

The idea of having a herd mate to rub up against was very appealing, but I didn’t know how to join a herd. Nor did I know of any herd that would have me. Maybe after we knew each other better, I’d ask her to smudge me past all my stupid fears. In the meantime, I steered the conversation in a different direction.
 

“Where’d Dex get the limp?”

“Down by the river. That’s another reason I don’t go there. His squirrelly horse named Genius reared up and fell over. The saddle horn smashed Dex’s leg real bad.”

“Ouch. So, what happened?”

“Well, luckily, Malcolm was with him, and he saved him. Made a tourniquet, hauled him up on Fergus, called for an ambulance from his cell as soon as he could get a signal, and got Dex home quick as he could.”

Jesus. The man was a saint and a superhero. I knew I recognized that square jaw from somewhere.
 

“They couldn’t save his leg, not all of it anyway. It’s fake from the knee down. Malcolm helped take care of him and stuff afterwards.”

Dex said Malcolm had been good to him.

“What happened to Genius?”

“When he flipped over, he cracked his skull open, and never got up. I don’t know how Malcolm got Dex out from under that stupid horse. Guess you do what you got to do when you got to do it, right?”

“Um.”

“I think Dex would have put a bullet in Genius right there if he weren’t already dead.”

“Carried a gun then, too, huh?”

“Always.”

We came in view of the house, and I could see Malcolm’s Jag parked in the drive.
 

“Um, um, um,” she muttered. “We got ourselves a welcoming committee.”

I loved how she could infuse those three simple syllables with so many different meanings.

“Um, um, um,” I said.

She slid me a sideways glance. “You’re getting it. Keep practicing.”

Robert and Dex One stood outside the barn, watching our approach. Neither of them looked happy.

“I’ll handle Dex,” Renee said.

“I guess you will.”
 

She laughed. “Yeah, but that means you’ve got to handle the big one. And he looks fit to bust.”

Robert’s face had that stiff, barely-contained fury look about it, kind of like it did the first time I saw him when I helped corral Hank’s bull. I rode right up to him, leaned down, and said, “It was an accident.”

He grabbed Gaston’s reins and stroked the horse’s neck, didn’t even look at me.

“It wasn’t,” Dex said.

Robert put his hand on my thigh and squeezed. He wasn’t angry with me at all.

“Wasn’t what?” Renee asked.

“An accident,” Robert answered.

“What?” Renee and I both said.

“The brake lines were cut,” Dex said.

I put my hand over Robert’s. He finally looked at me.
 

“I’m okay,” I said.
 

He let out a long breath.
 

“Oh, crap,” I whispered. “That accident was meant for you, wasn’t it?”

~~~

“I’m calling in reinforcements,” Dex said.
 

The four of us sat in the tack room a little while later.

“You won’t see most of them, but they’ll be around. I can’t be everywhere at once. Whoever cut the SUV’s brake lines managed to do it while I was on the property.”

“It’s a big piece of property,” I said.

“Exactly. Keep your vehicle parked where you can see it all times, or lock it up.” He directed this last at Renee.

“What are you looking at me for?”

“You have a garage. Use it.”

“What does this have to do with me?”

Dex scrubbed his hands over his head. “I don’t know what or who it has to do with. Be careful, you got it?”

We all nodded. Renee stuck her tongue out at him. He ignored her.

“We’re closed again until further notice,” Robert said, a note of weariness in his voice. “And you,” he touched my knee, “No more riding without one of us with you.”

“I had Renee with me.”

“He means one of them,” Renee explained. “A man.”

“I’d suggest no more riding out at all,” Dex said.

“Oh, for cripe’s sake,” I griped to no one in particular.

“I agree with Dex,” Robert said. “Tomorrow, I have to return to my client site. I’ll help you in the morning, then you’ll come with me.”

“Now, wait a minute, if Dex has people keeping an eye on things—”

“No,” Dex said, “that’s good. One less for them to worry about.”

“What about the horses?” I asked.
 

“We’ll take care of it.”

I stood. “This is ridiculous.” I couldn’t get anything done if I was under armed guard. “I’m going upstairs. Call me if you need me.”

Robert wrapped his hand around my wrist. “The only thing you’re going upstairs for is a change of clothes. You’re staying at my house.”

Crap. How to go from super-hero-saint to macho-alpha-male in one easy breath. I peeled his fingers off one at a time. “No.”

“One of my men will be camped out in the apartment, Miss Parker. I’m sure he’d enjoy your company…”

I shot Dex a dirty look. The men had obviously worked this out while Renee and I were riding.

“She can stay with me,” Renee offered.

I huffed. “No, thanks. I need to be close to the horses. There’s too much work to do.” And I wouldn’t risk something else happening to Cali. “How about if I stay with Hank and Clara?”
 

Both men shook their heads. “Hank sleeps like a rock,” Robert said. “His entire flock of chickens could be killed in his front room, and he wouldn’t wake up.”

“And Clara can’t shoot a gun to save her life,” Dex said.

Nice time to talk about killing, I thought. “What the hell do you think is going to happen around here?”

“Miss Parker,” Dex drawled with exaggerated patience, “need I remind you a man was murdered? The horses were let loose. You were attacked. Someone attempted to kill Malcolm, and, by the way, nearly killed you instead. In my book, that’s reason enough to take a few simple precautions.”

And I was worried I’d die of boredom in the Midwest.

- 32 -

We worked to get everything done so we could attend Norman’s wake that evening. I would pay my respects, and I hoped to run into Sandy, too.

Robert and Dex allowed Renee to take me to the bank. She found it highly amusing that JJ had stolen all my underwear, and a great excuse to buy new. She drove like a maniac to the nearest store that sold what she termed real women’s underwear. Which meant the mall.
 

The mall. Jesus. They are all the same. What a freaking relief. That is, until Renee dragged me into the lingerie section of a department store. By the time we left, I had more under thingies than ever before, in more colors and styles than I knew were available. All except red lace. Renee laughed for over half an hour when I told why I didn’t want any. She promised to smudge me soon and rid me of all negativity regarding my underwear.

We pointed her Beetle north after gorging on ice cream and big, salty soft pretzels, and between that and our ride earlier, I was beginning to feel human again, despite Winterlight being under an apparent siege. I half-expected to encounter a guard tower and gate when we returned.

But all was at peace.
 

That should have made me suspicious.

Robert and Dex leaned back in rockers on the farmhouse’s long front porch, with their feet on the railing, smoking cigars. You’d think they’d both just won a high-stakes poker game instead of cleaning stalls for an afternoon. Noire lazed between them, her pink tongue lolling out one side of her mouth.
 

I went to the apartment to get what I needed. As promised, one of Dex’s reinforcements sat in a chair he’d turned to face the window overlooking the pasture. He rested a black rifle with a scope across his lap and nodded to me when I came in.
 

I grabbed what I’d worn to church on Sunday and work clothes for the morning. Henrietta had taken the kittens to the loft, a move I approved of. Not that she’d checked with me first. From the hatbox on the closet shelf I retrieved the tape and stuffed it in the bottom of my purse.
 

Armed with fresh cans of whipped cream, I walked to the house. Robert showed me the guest room and left me to my ablutions.

When I entered the kitchen an hour later, I said, “If it’s all the same to you, I’m going back to calling you Malcolm.” I hadn’t been comfortable calling him Robert, and if I had to be in close physical proximity, I needed every ounce of emotional distance available.

He nodded. I didn’t know what that meant, and I wasn’t about to try and figure it out. We ate ham sandwiches and washed them down with iced tea and rode in the Jag to the funeral home without a word. He didn’t appear to be fuming, but he did look deep in thought. I guess if someone had used my manure pile as a murder weapon, let loose my horses, and cut my brake lines, I’d be deep in thought, too.

The funeral home was no more than a cinder block building with a tin roof, but cars filled the adjoining lot and lined both sides of Main Street. People stood around in small groups, smoking and speaking in hushed tones. Some nodded as we walked by. I didn’t see Sandy or her car.

Malcolm kept a firm grip on my elbow to guide me through the crowd in the hall. We found the viewing room. Wasn’t hard. There was only one. What would happen if two people died at the same time?
 

I saw a few familiar faces. The coroner, and Fred and Melba. Clara and Hank stood with them. Malcolm released me to shake someone’s hand, and I slipped away.
 

I glanced at Norman on my way past. He looked good—not like I’d expect someone to look who got cooked in a compost pile—had more color than I remembered. The undertaker must have a good makeup artist. A new black cowboy hat rested on his chest. I kept moving, but my Catholic upbringing insisted I get up close and say a short prayer before leaving.

“You bring any of that whipped cream?” Clara asked in a whisper when I reached her side.