Peace River (Rockland Ranch Series) (2 page)

Chapter 2

As Carrie pounded past Eli and his son Dante leaning on the rail in the predawn light, she could almost sense Eli punching the stop watch.  Even though the great stallion had long since retired from racing, there was still something almost mythical about his amazing speed.  She let him run for the pure love of it and let her mind and body simply be in the moment.  She could never have explained this feeling.  The horse and the wind and the mist.  The way her body blended with the rhythm and motion, the magic of the half night, half day.  She could even smell it.  A potion of the river bottom, the mist, and the track.  The ultimate cadence.  Here and now there was just her, the horse, and the wind.  

             
At length, Ebony slowed of his own volition.  They jogged the track one more time, and then she walked him to cool him down.  As she rode back toward the paddock, the sun slipped over the hills to the east and a new day had come.

             
Her mornings started the same every day.  This magical time on the track with no troubles or cares was a renewal that recharged her spirit.  She could face anything afterward with a full heart and a happy attitude.

             
She handed the still-sweating horse over to Eli at the rail, glancing around as she did so to see if Geoffrey Goulet was around.  The son of one of her grandfather‘s friends, Geoffrey was actually very smart—just hopelessly self-centered.  He was madly in love with her, and hung around the farm in hopes of having the opportunity to propose for the nine hundredth time.  He was a nice guy, except for the fact that he was totally and ridiculously spoiled which made him a complete nincompoop.  Dante actually referred to him as “Stupid Geoffrey,” which wasn’t very nice, but it did fit. 

Grateful that Geoffrey
was nowhere in sight, she mentally began to go over her day.  With her college semester just ended she’d be able to catch up on a few things.  Walking toward her house to start breakfast, she unbuckled her helmet and let her hair cascade down her back.  Life was good and she loved living it.

Even with Judd around
, life was good.  Brushing off her riding boots on the scrubber mat on the sun porch, she glanced around to make sure there was no sign of him.  What was she going to do about Judd?  He’d always been hard to deal with, but lately things had gotten so bad that she knew something had to be done about him.  Worst of all, he’d begun to hang around with some people at the track who were rumored to be involved with organized crime.  It brought an element of lawlessness to her very home that was incredibly troubling. 

Thank goodness Judd hated mornings and was afraid of horses, especially Ebony Wind.  Carrie thought to herself that it was wise
for Judd to fear the great stallion.  For some reason, the typically gentle beast hated Judd with a passion that scared even Carrie.  He seemed a different animal whenever Judd ventured near, which was rare, thankfully.  Carrie had seen outlaw horses before--those rare crazed individuals that seemed to have a blood lust.  Ebony had acted just like that several times toward Judd.  It was as if the animal could sense his meanness. 

             
Carrie had been taught by her grandfather not to hate and she was by nature kind and gentle, but she continually struggled to deal with Judd.  She used to hate him.  At least she’d gotten over that.

Judd was her father, biologically, although she never considered him
that.  He had always been abusive.  Carrie’s earliest memories were of his raging tempers that would leave her mother bruised and battered.  Carrie had no doubt her mother had died a young and broken woman because of Judd.  She’d passed away six months ago when Carrie had just turned twenty. 

For years, her grandfather had put u
p with Judd as well as possible because he was always threatening to take Carrie and her mother and leave.  Everyone knew what would happen to them if he ever did, so the whole farm dealt with Judd for their sakes. 

She’d never loved Judd
—never even liked him and had changed her name the moment she’d turned eighteen and could legally do so without his permission.  She’d taken her Grandfather O’Rourke’s last name because she did love him with all her heart. 

             
Thinking of her grandfather brought tears to her eyes.  It had been two months since a training accident had taken him.  His death so shortly after her mother’s had hit hard, and the pain didn’t seem to be lessening much.  His absence was still heartbreaking.  Wind Dance Farms would never be the same.  Sometimes she felt guilty for missing him so much more than she missed her mother, who’d quit living long before her death.  But her mother had become so removed from everything around her and her grandfather had been involved with everything. 

She missed ever
ything about her grandfather, his gentle spirit, his unbending character, his sense of humor, and his wisdom.  How she desperately needed his wisdom in her life. 

             
Eli, half owner and head trainer, was wise.  He had the humility acquired from growing up a poor black farm boy, tempered with the strength that had brought him to pursue his dreams of the race track.  He’d worked his way from stable boy to become the most trusted and competent right hand of the legendary Hugh O’Rourke, and with Hugh’s death, Eli had become half owner.  He seemed far more a father to Carrie than Judd had ever been.

Eli was wise, but he would never recommend she leave her home
.  More and more lately she believed that was what she should do.  Because her mother never divorced Judd, the small house they had lived in became Judd’s at the time of her death.  It was right smack in the middle of the farm and so close to the main house it was practically attached.  Her grandfather had tried to buy it back from Judd, but he’d refused.  So, until something changed, they were stuck with him.  

When Carrie’s grandfather passed away, he’d left very clear and concise instructions concerning his estate.  Carrie was to get the most valuable stallion, Ebony Wind, who’d won the Preakness and the Belmont a few years ago, as well as several other key races, and then had retired to become an incredibly successful racing sire.  He was extremely v
aluable and was insured for $8,000,000.  The other horses and the farm were to be left in equal shares to Carrie and Eli Johnson, with Eli calling all the shots until Carrie was twenty-one unless Carrie was married before that.  In the event that Carrie married earlier, she and Eli would manage the farm as partners. 

For that matter, Eli already had Carrie helping run the farm as partners and she knew he was very, very good.  She would never have questioned his management. 

              Her grandfather had strictly stipulated in his will that under no circumstance was Denzel Judd to ever have ownership of any part of his estate, other than the small home.  Everyone had assumed this clause would put an end to Judd’s scheming--until his distant nephew Deek arrived. 

Pausi
ng on her porch, Carrie sighed and shook her head.  Something had to be done, but food first.  She was starving and Dante would be ravenous as usual. 

 
              Pushing Judd, his friends, and his alarming behavior out of her mind, she hustled around the kitchen preparing breakfast.  Other than the racehorses, cooking was her next great passion and over the years she had come to truly believe that good, healthy food could solve most any problem.  It brought people together and strengthened relationships.  It brought good will, health and happiness.  Her philosophy was, you have to eat, so it might as well be one of life’s great pleasures. 

As she was setting out dishes, she was gently picked up in a bear hug from behind and swung around in a circle in the dining room.  Automatically,
she said, “Dante, put me down.  For a second I thought you were Geoffrey.  I have to finish getting breakfast.” 

She squirmed in his arms and he put her down and followed her back to the kitchen where he snatched a
piece of bacon and said mildly, “Haven’t seen Stupid Geoffrey yet today and he couldn’t lift you anyway.”  He chuckled as she absent-mindedly handed him glasses.  Finishing his bite, he said, “You ever gonna tell that poor boy you’ll marry him so he’ll go away and leave us alone?”

             
“It would never work,” she answered drily, “He’d just move in here.  Don’t you want me to marry someone with a brain?” 

             
Dante picked up napkins and condiments and switched gears.  “That stallion is still as fast as our most promising colts.  Do you know that?” 

             
“I was the one riding him, remember?  Of course I know he’s fast.”  She reached around him to pick up the silverware.  “So . . . who was the pretty girl in the little black sports car last night?”  She looked up into his face with a teasing grin.  “It’s about time you settled down with one of the girls who are in love with you, isn’t it?  You need to hurry!  I’m waiting patiently for nieces and nephews.”  He followed her back into the kitchen for the rest of their breakfast. 

             
“There were two pretty girls in little black sports cars last night.  Which one are you talking about?  The movie star or the super model?”  Teasing back, he took another piece of bacon and she swatted at his hand.

             
“Dante, I swear!  Were there really two girls?” 

             
“No, I was kidding.  There was only one girl.  She likes me.  Dad said not to wait for him.”  He swiped a third piece of bacon. 

             
“Of course she likes you.  You’re adorable!  Now sit down and use your plate.  I want to hear all about her.  I’ve seen her a couple of times now and I need details!” 

             
Between bites, Dante told her about his new girl.  They teased back and forth until finally Dante pushed his plate back and folded his arms across his brawny chest and said, “Okay, out with it.”

             
“Out with what?” 

             
“Don’t even go there.  I know you better than anyone on the planet.  What’s got your pretty little mind so wound up this morning?  You obviously didn’t sleep well.  You were out on the track even earlier than usual, which is ridiculously early anyway.  You keep glancing over your shoulder like you expect ghosts.  What’s going on?” 

             
“How do you know I didn’t sleep well?”  She continued picking at her food.

             
“Easy.  You look like heck.”  Dante was grinning when she looked up.  “So why didn’t you sleep well?”

             
She sighed.  “Judd’s up to something and you know it can’t be good.  This distant nephew or whatever of his is here a lot.  I didn’t think much of it at first, except to notice that he’s as scummy as the rest of that crowd, but Judd has apparently decided I should marry him.  In fact, now I wonder if that isn’t why he came in the first place.” 

She shuddered involuntarily.  “The whole idea is revolting!  Not only is he disgusting, but if he really is related to Judd
, then unfortunately he’s related to me somewhere.  It’s like incest or something as well.”

S
haking her head, she continued, “I knew Judd was being too low key.  I’ve wondered if something has been going on for a while.  I overheard him on his cell phone the other morning talking to someone about confirming when they were bringing their mare over.  Since when does Judd give a hoot about a horse?

             
“And then the other night there were cars coming and going in the middle of the night, and there was a whispered conversation about knocking someone or something off.  Honestly, Dante, I wondered if they were talking about killing someone!  I know that sounds ridiculous, but it’s true!  Imagine hearing something like that from your own bedroom window!”  She got up and started to clear away the breakfast to take it to the kitchen, then admitted more softly, “His latest friends really scare me.”

             
She continued almost tiredly as they cleaned up, “We have to do something.  I know we do, but I don’t know what, or how to do it.  I actually called the police yesterday to see about getting a restraining order.  They said I had to prove he was an immediate threat before they would get involved.”  She put a syrup pitcher on the counter, slopping syrup over the side and turned to him.  “What in the world are all the calls we’ve made over the years about him, if they aren’t proof that he’s dangerous?”