Stallion of Ash and Flame (Siren Publishing Classic) (2 page)

Trail knew Seneca and Rory had built their stable out of the local rock, having heard the story from Pete at the pool hall in town. Striding behind her, he checked out the two corrals and the large riding arena. Grassy meadowland surrounded the stable and had been fenced off in several immense pastures. Around their acreage, the high-elevation Ponderosa forest formed a semi-circle, scenting the air with an intoxicating crispness he never failed to appreciate, even though smoke permeated it now.

“Better at handling a pistol, ma’am.” Even better at handling my hooves. “Why, do you get trouble here?” Hot damn, he could watch her ass all day.

“Who doesn’t get trouble these days?” She whirled around to him, her face intensely serious. “We protect our own around here. If you can’t go with that, this isn’t the place for you.”

“I’m not an illegal,” he carefully assured. An otherworlder, yes.

“I know you’re not. Although, with your looks some would assume you are. But that’s not what I mean.”

“The Traffickers and Coyotes?” he asked quietly.

She nodded once, her eyes hard and brilliant as gems. “Yeah, like I said, Rory and I protect our own from anyone, doesn’t matter who the bad guys are.”

I’ll always protect you
. Hell above the highlands, Trail knew he shouldn’t be thinking like that. He wouldn’t be around long enough to always protect her. Yet, he could protect her now. “That’s how we work on a tracker’s team. We all watch each other’s backs.”

“Makes sense.” She paused, intensely scrutinizing him. “You should know something about me. I don’t run with the herd, unless the herd is going in my direction.”

I’m galloping in any direction you go
. Trail wanted to snort his sudden determination. “Don’t always go along with crowd myself,” he drawled.

“Also,” she released a long breath, “the politically correct crowd in town don’t like me, and they may shun you now.”

Trail lifted one shoulder in a lazy shrug. “Never had much time for who doesn’t like who. Or is it whom?” He tried a disarming grin.

She blinked, then gazed into the depths of his eyes, reminding him of the Witch Mares of his world. They were revered and read the destinies of those who desired positions of governing power.

“Trail,” she addressed him seriously, “I go by my intuition a lot. If I ever get a bad feeling about you, you’ll be gone faster than I can count to ten.”

“Fair,” he stated.

You’ll trust me, beautiful mare
, he promised himself. Already, he psi-felt her basic trust of him at a deep level, though she wasn’t consciously aware of it. She kept her barriers high as the mountains around them.

“You know,” her gaze still pierced to his soul, “it’s character that counts, not skin color. And all I care about is a person’s true character.”

“Glad you feel that way.” Tempted to say how adorable he found her tan-colored freckles, he didn’t. That would guarantee him a place on her bad side.

She took a survey of his face. “What is your ethnic heritage?”

Pure stallion for you.

Curiosity gleamed in her gaze, the kind that appreciated his looks, if not him as a man she desired.

“Apache, mostly, with Irish and Scots
thrown in. From what I can determine.” He gave her a grin, one that naturally formed just for her. Part of what he told her was true, since some of the ancient ancestors of his race were also the ancient ancestors of Earth’s humanity, Apache being the closest race to his.

“That explains the color of your eyes.”

Trail watched her lips part to speak more. He knew she’d been about to
describe the color of his light green eyes.

Instead, her jaw snapped shut, and she spun around, striding swiftly toward
the stable. Her worn denims strained over the generous curves of her butt causing his close-to-out-of-control lust to rage down to his parts ‘not’ unknown. His cock hitched like a rowdy son of a gun.

Keeping himself bridled, he focused on the excitement of her horses. He could feel and hear their thoughts.

“How many are yours?” he asked once they entered the stable’s cooler interior. “And how many are you boarding?”

“Twenty between me and Rory. Thirteen regular boarders. And two who are spending about a month with us,” she answered above the whickers of welcome. “Hey, you bad boy,” she crooned to her sorrel stallion and moved toward him. “I didn’t bring you any treats. Just a kiss or two.”

Her lips met the stallion’s offered muzzle and she pressed a soft kiss. The next moment, she opened his stall door. “He knows where to go,” she explained.

Happiness defined her posture as she watched her half-Arab stallion eagerly gait toward the far end of the stable. With a buck and a flash of his back hooves, he galloped inside his large corral, his neck grandly arched. Quickly, she opened two other stall doors, letting mares out to be with him. Walking behind them, she latched the corral’s half-door closed.

Trail followed in her wake, observing her routine carefully, as she placed each horse in one of the various pastures. He made only minimal contact with them. For now, that would work, since the behavior of her horses wouldn’t change, except for their curious gazes at him. A glint of knowing shone
in their eyes for what he was, equine in nature and in form when he chose.

“Mainly, I need you to look after Rory’s horses and help me out with the boarders when their owners don’t show. Also, the boarders I take care of on a regular basis.”

“You need me for other chores, don’t you?” He slid his hand down the neck of the last horse inside the stable, a paint boarder, who gazed at him with the wise eyes of an elder.

“Careful what you volunteer for, Trail. You know a place like this always has something that needs to be done.”

“I’m countin’ on it. I could use the distraction of some real labor. I’ll check all the fences soon as I can.”

“That would help. Don’t tell me you’re gettin’ over a break up. The way I hear it, it’s one night of fun and bed frolic. Then you’re nosin’ after another filly.”

Hell, what did he say? “Bad marriage. I’m gun shy.”

“It ain’t your gun that’s shy,” she sang, her sarcasm a finesse he couldn’t miss. “At least, that’s the gossip ‘round town. But if you’re really up to gettin’ your hands dirty and your brow sweaty, I can accommodate you.”

God, could she ever accommodate his mounting. He wanted her all sweaty and sexy dirty for him. Surreptitiously, he scented her sex and nearly dropped his jeans on the spot. She was all fiery heat.

“Chief,” she sweetly murmured, “come on, you can dine in the front lawn. Plenty of those wildflowers you like to sample.” She snapped the lead rope onto his halter, then opened the paint’s stall door. “Don’t know where Luke and Spook have gone off to,” she continued, speaking to Trail. “They’re usually here acting like herd dogs. Though sometimes they chase after a rabbit. We have three barn cats. They’re probably sunning somewhere.”

The warning instinct buzzed through him. With pure reflex, he grabbed her shoulder, shoving her backwards as two shots rang out. He hit the ground momentarily, then launched upwards and chased after the shadowed male figure at the far end of her stable.

Knowing she hadn’t been harmed, he raced full speed after their attacker. Damn, if he hadn’t been nosin’ under her tail, he would have heard the son of a bitch, or smelled him, before he entered the stable.

Hell! Despite his speed, the man dived inside a slowly moving jeep. It sped away like a dirt-throwing dragster. No matter how much he wanted the license plate number, now was not the time to shift into his horse form. Besides, he wouldn’t leave her. Having halted, he whirled around, feeling pure disgust at himself for not protecting her better.

She jogged toward him, her eyes expressing a myriad of emotions, one of them sheer fury. “Chief okay?” he asked as she stopped in front of him.

“One of the bullets grazed his cheek. But he’s okay, thank God.”

“I didn’t get the license plate number of their jeep.”

She nodded, the fear starting to grip her now. “That’s what it was. I couldn’t see it. I just heard them peel out.” He knew by his ‘feel’ of her, she had no real idea why they’d been shot at.

“I have no enemies I know about. You?” He knew he fastened his gaze too strongly on her face. He didn’t care. He needed to know how frightened she felt. She’d gone ashen.

She shook her head vigorously, then hugged herself tightly. “We carry guns from now on. That was way too close for comfort.”

“Do you want me call the sheriff?”

She shook her head even more vigorously. “He’s as corrupt as the day is long. Besides, what do we report? We were shot at, but didn’t see by who, or get any real evidence.” Her mouth straightened into a grim line. “For all I know, it could have been a couple of the sheriff’s off-duty boys. Truth is...” She paused and hissed a long sigh
.
“I’ve put a crimp into a couple of his illegal operations. I didn’t think he knew it was me, though.”

“He still might not know. It could be someone else. With all the trouble that’s around here, there’s a lot of possibilities.”

She nodded. “Doesn’t look like robbery was the motive. The house is wide open. Unless—”

“I’ll go check.”

“No. We’ll go together. I’ll dress Chief’s wound first and check the stable for anything missing in case they were returning to steal something else. Everything was fine last night, about midnight. Still, it doesn’t make sense. If it was a robbery, why shoot at us and just high-tail it out of here?”

“It wasn’t a robbery. They aimed to kill.” He didn’t like scaring her more. Yet, she had to know, so he could protect her properly.

“You or me?” she asked after a moment of silence. He watched the truth dawn on her face. “You shoved me back...oh.” Hugging herself more tightly, she looked down at her feet. “I should thank you.” Her clear turquoise gaze met his gaze with sincerity, though, he could see, it cost her to be grateful. “Thank you. Great reflexes,” she complimented, more color draining out of her face.

“Chief,” he reminded on purpose. Knowing she would fight him if he gripped her forcefully, Trail took hold of her upper arm with a gentleness she wouldn’t shrug off, then guided her back toward the stable.

“You’re a tracker. If you followed after them—”

“Once they turn onto the highway I can’t track them,” he interrupted. “But I can have a look around here for any tracks that don’t belong.”

“True... omygawd!” She burst out of his grip racing toward the two Akita dogs who staggered down the center aisle of the stable. Foam bubbled and dripped from their mouths. “Omygawd! Luke and Spook.” She dropped to her knees beside them. Gripping the chin of one she studied his eyes. “Charcoal. I need charcoal.” The last part was a scream of desperation. He watched panic seize her as she rose upward and spun toward a room he knew held medical supplies and remedies. He’d picked up the aroma when they first entered.

Moving toward the two dogs, who were in no shape to fight him, he wrapped an arm around each of them to prevent them from following after her and wasting their strength. Carefully, he phased his inner arm into the flesh of one to discover what had poisoned them. Odd, he sensed it as a form of anti-freeze, yet not the one commonly sold. Carefully, he embedded the formula into his memory for further analysis.

Running toward him, shaking a large jar of charcoal mixed with water, she quickly set the jar down, unscrewed the lid and plunged in a huge syringe, one used for administering medicine to horses. Filling it, she placed it in the side of her dogs’ mouths, squirting it down their throats as she held their heads up. Charcoal-black water dribbled out, but most of it went down.

“Please, help me carry them up to the house.” Her gaze begged him even as she lifted one of them up. He knew she had to be strong from the hard labor she did regularly. Still, her adrenaline must have kicked in, or merely her will to save her dogs no matter what.

Nodding, he picked up the one who was probably Spook because of his paler coat color.

With the weight she carried, Trail could tell she walked as fast as she could as they moved out of the stable. “I have a place for them in the house. I don’t let them run at night. Too dangerous.”

“Then they must have been poisoned soon after you let them out.”

Huffing, straining for breath, she rushed up the gradual incline toward the back of the house. Before she could let go with one arm, he opened her back door. The old pantry had obviously been turned into a dog haven with the number of toys and the comfortable bedding. Laying Luke down on a huge pillow, she indicated the one next to it. Gently, he lowered his limp canine bundle while feeling the charcoal do its job, absorbing the chemical poisoning.

Seneca kneeled over Luke stroking him and crooning her love for him. She kissed his head before moving to Spook. After kissing Spook tenderly, she placed her hands on both of them and closed her eyes obviously in prayer.

Something ate at his gut. Why the sudden attack? The next moment, he frowned deeply. He needed to have a chat with Rory to discover the details of his accident. Trail had his suspicions it might not have been an accident at all.

Tears shining in her eyes, Seneca stood. “I’ll check their kennel yard. See if anything was put in their water. If not—” She whirled around, not finishing. He watched her open another door, one that had been installed for direct access to the kennel yard. Trail followed after her.

“Do you want me to take them to the nearest vet?”

“No use. They’re all too far away. And it’s the weekend.” Crouching down, she inspected their water dispenser. Even though it didn’t appear contaminated, she carefully dumped it outside of the fence. “I’ll just give them water inside, but leave the door open...in case...” Sobs escaped her suddenly, and she shook.

He drew her close, loosely holding her. “I think they’re going to be okay.”

For a few moments, she collapsed against him, her tears flowing freely. Then she shoved away from him. “Chief,” she muttered, remembering. “And I need to bring the charcoal up here.”