HORSES AND HEROIN (Romantic Mystery) (25 page)

“Thanks, Ramon,” Scott said. And he spoke about locking doors and simple vigilance, spoke with such easy authority that everyone stopped fidgeting. He was so damn cool, and the students recognized it. All the males, even Garrett, copied his body language. The girls simply stuck out their chests, staring with admiring eyes.

“In closing,” Scott went on, “I need to remind everyone that Joey is not formally accused of anything. We only want to talk. He may be completely innocent. We all should keep an open mind.”

Megan’s breath stalled. She heard Eve’s relieved gasp but could only stare in grateful silence. Garrett shrugged, but Ramon’s eyes flashed with anger. After his big preamble about apprehension, Scott had made him look rather foolish.

And then Garrett wished them all an enjoyable day off and the meeting was over. “Eve,” Ramon called, stalking toward them with Lydia hurrying at his heels. “You’ll be switching horses on Monday. We want you to ride Rambo.”

“Rambo?” Eve squeaked, pressing her hands together.

“Lydia feels the horse can be of some value to the school,” Ramon said. “You’re one of our best riders. But clearly if you’re not eager to ride him, he’s no use here and should be shipped out.”

 “What about Miguel?” Eve asked.

“He already refused,” Ramon said.

Eve nodded slowly. “Okay, then.”

“No, I’ll do it,” Megan said, stepping in front of Eve. “Rambo knows me. He likes me.”
I hope he likes me
. All the students were listening now, and she hoped no one caught the quaver in her voice.

“Fine, you do it.” Ramon shrugged. “Work with the horse over the weekend. But have him on the track, ready to gallop on Monday.”

A blast of disapproval chilled her neck. She glanced sideways. Scott stood to her right, his face so stony she edged back a step.

“What the hell are you thinking?” he asked. A muscle ticked in his jaw, and his eyes had that contemptuous cop look. The kind of look that always made her feel worthless. “You’re not a good enough rider.”

Her throat constricted so tightly she couldn’t speak. Could only stare in hurt disbelief. He’d been so sweet earlier and she’d planned to thank him for his defense of Joey but now he berated her riding ability. In public.

Her face burned with humiliation. Peter kicked at a rock, the tips of his ears beet red, obviously sharing her embarrassment while the blond groom with the mean eyes snickered.

Lydia cleared her throat. “We appreciate your kind offer, Megan,” she said. “And you’re a competent rider. But it might be better if Eve does it.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” Megan said. “I’ll start working with Rambo this afternoon.” She nodded politely at Lydia, dismissed Scott with a cool look of disdain and strode into the barn, her back ramrod straight.

His thoughtlessness cut even more when contrasted to Lydia. She expected criticism from Lydia, was prepared for it even, but to have Scott turn on her so unexpectedly left an aching fist lodged in her chest. Hell, she’d just slept with him.

She thumped up the steps to her room and flopped on the bed, hoping Tami wouldn’t ask for any more advice. Clearly, she’d never be a relationship guru.

Tami lifted the cold towel from her eyes. “Thanks for mucking out my stalls. Did Lydia notice I missed the meeting?”

“It was quick and informal,” Megan said, wishing her eyes weren’t so itchy. “No one noticed.”

“Did Miguel ask where I was?”

“I didn’t even see him.” Megan grabbed a pillow and pressed it over her hot face. Didn’t want Tami to see her shattered expression.

“Do you think he felt bad about last night?” Tami asked.

“He’s a guy, so probably not,” Megan muttered.

“Did you have trouble with Scott too?”

“A little.” Megan couldn’t quite hide the crack in her voice.

“I’ll get some ice for your eyes,” Tami said.

***

Megan grumbled and lifted the bag of melting ice from her face. It was impossible to sleep. Boots thudded down the aisle, excited voices echoed in the stairwell and the paper-thin walls did little to block the racket.

“It’s Saturday, our only day to nap,” Tami complained, propping on an elbow and scowling at the door. “What the hell is going on?”

“I don’t know,” Megan said, “but I’m going to find out.”

She rose, pulled on her boots and shot an assessing look at Tami who looked much better now, her eyes no longer swollen. “You have to see Miguel sometime,” Megan said. “Let’s see what’s happening, then go over to the cafeteria.

“And,” she added, trying to sound nonchalant. “I’m going to ride Rambo today. Will you help me lunge him first? See if we can get him to stop bucking.”

“Rambo?” Tami jerked to a sitting position. “Are you nuts? Even Miguel won’t get on him. That horse belongs in a rodeo.”

“Probably just rumors. He seems perfectly normal on the ground.”

“It’s not rumors.” Tami kicked off the sheet and swung her bare feet to the floor. “Miguel told me the horse is loco. And smart. Like he thinks he’s too good for us.”

“Then he’s too good for Mexico,” Megan said.

“Of course, he’s too good for Mexico. If a horse isn’t useful there, he’s sent to the slaughter house.”

Megan tugged at her lip. “That explains why Lydia doesn’t want him to go. At least she’s trying to save him.”

“Yes, but she isn’t the idiot getting on his back.” Tami’s voice muffled as she yanked a T-shirt over her head. “Let someone else do it,” she added, tucking in her shirt. “Eve is probably the best rider here even though it kills Miguel to admit it.”

Megan bent down and yanked her bootlaces tighter. She wasn’t going to stand back and watch Eve take a fall. If Joey were around, he wouldn’t risk his baby’s safety either. Besides, she’d trained a few young horses before, and her barrel racer had routinely crow hopped on cold mornings.

“I can ride a buck or two,” she said, heading to the door.

“It’s more than a buck or two. It’s YouTube worthy. Wait a sec.” Tami pulled a compact red camera from her drawer. “There’s a website that pays for spectacular wrecks so if you’re really going to do it, my camera takes better video than my phone…of course, I hope you don’t fall off.”

Megan sighed and continued down the hall, guessing she wouldn’t be able to stomach a big lunch. She didn’t want to hear any more wild tales about Rambo. It was frightening enough to know she had to climb on the renegade’s back.

Soup might be the best choice today. She clasped her stomach but couldn’t soothe the swirling butterflies. While Tami’s warning didn’t help, it was Scott’s statement she wasn’t a good enough rider that had really cracked her confidence.

He could have given her some advice. Instructors were supposed to be supportive, not knock you down. According to Lydia, Rambo had run bravely for many years. He’d put his heart on the line every race and didn’t deserve to end up in a dog dish. Maybe she wouldn’t be able to handle him, but at least she could try.

Better her than Joey’s pregnant girlfriend.

Squaring her shoulders, she trudged down the steps, with Tami pounding behind her. The barn aisle was empty so maybe now was a good time to start the groundwork. A snickering audience would only shred her already fragile courage.

“Would you mind skipping lunch so we can get Rambo out now, Tami?” she asked. “While no one is around to watch.”

Tami nodded, her eyes apprehensive. Jake stuck his head over the stall door and sniffed Megan’s hands. She gave him a quick pat then resolutely moved on to Rambo.

She jerked to a stop, so surprised her stomach momentarily stopped its flipping. Rambo’s stall was empty. But he hadn’t finished his hay, wasn’t due for paddock turnout until one. She glanced frantically at Tami, then up and down the aisle. Had they taken him already?

“Don’t worry,” Tami said quickly. “Miguel said the trailer isn’t going to Mexico until Sunday. Rambo must be around.”

Outside, hooves thudded.

“Maybe he got loose,” Megan said. They both rushed to the side door.

A cluster of people circled the round pen—Miguel with a sullen expression, Lydia with her tight smile and about ten transfixed students—all watching as Scott trotted Rambo in easy circles. The horse had a beautiful floating trot, but it was the rider who grabbed Megan’s attention. Scott sat deep in the saddle, two hands on the reins, looking like an extension of the horse.

And Rambo behaved perfectly. His ears tilted as though listening to his rider, attuned to the cues, his compact body collected. No wonder he’d been a stakes winner. He had lovely movement.

She and Tami cautiously approached the fence. Scott’s gaze flickered over them, a mere second of distraction, but Rambo’s eye flashed and he abruptly leaped in the air, trying to fishtail. Now she understood why Scott was riding with his hands so wide. He straightened the horse virtually in midair.

Rambo jarred back to the ground, stiff legged and resentful. He tried to stop, but Scott nudged him forward with his spurs. The horse trotted a complete circle, as though the earlier incident had been a total misunderstanding, then suddenly flattened his ears and kicked out with a wicked twisting buck.

Scott yanked Rambo’s head up, pushing him forward but the horse snapped out with another violent kick. Megan gripped the rail, her knuckles whitening. It didn’t seem possible Rambo could still buck, not with Scott keeping his head up, keeping him moving, but the horse was incredibly athletic.

Someone edged closer. Megan pulled her eyes off the horse and rider and saw Eve standing next to her.

“It’s been like that for the last ten minutes,” Eve whispered. “Rambo pretends everything’s cool but as soon as Scott gives him an inch, he’s in the air. He’s okay on the track when galloping flat out, but it’s the before and after when he plays with his rider.”

That was playing? Megan gulped.

Eve touched her arm. “I appreciate what you did earlier. Volunteering to take my place. You’re very brave.”

Megan shrugged but knew the color had leached from her face. She wasn’t brave at all, had only offered because of the baby. It was obvious she wouldn’t have lasted eight seconds on a horse like Rambo—and Scott had known. She wanted to slink back to her room and hide.

Scott trotted for another five minutes without incident then stopped Rambo in the middle of the pen, loosened the reins and let the horse stretch his neck. Rambo blinked, turned and eyed his audience, then rested a hind leg. He looked like a benign trail horse. Megan would have laughed if she didn’t feel like such a fool.

“Megan,” Scott said, “would you please saddle Braun and escort me on the track.”

She stiffened. Only instructors were allowed to pony horses. And Braun was Garrett’s pricey cow horse. Students did not ride Braun. Everyone was looking at her now, their expressions mirroring her confusion.

Maybe Scott just wanted her to admit that she’d been wrong, to say in public that she wouldn’t have been able to handle Rambo. And she could do that. It was only fair.

“Braun prefers a quiet rider like you,” Scott added. “And I really would appreciate your help. Please.”

She stared into his steady gray eyes, uncomprehending.

“I’ll saddle for you,” Lydia said.

“I’ll help.” Eve and Tami spoke together.

Megan nodded mutely and walked into the barn. By the time, she gathered her helmet and vest, Braun was saddled and waiting in the aisle.

“I adjusted the stirrups,” Lydia said, passing Megan a leather lead line, “but they won’t go any shorter. Students don’t usually ride Braun. I’ll tell the cafeteria to save you some lunch.”

“Thanks,” Megan said.
I could get used to service like this
.

She mounted, studiously avoiding eye contact with Eve and Tami who both twitched with amusement, and walked Braun from the barn. It was refreshing to be back in a western saddle, riding a horse that neck reined, a horse that moved off the slightest leg pressure.

Rambo still stood in the middle of the round pen but students were drifting off, perhaps deciding the show was over. Good. She hoped they wouldn’t follow them to the track. Who knew what Rambo might do on the oval? Besides, she wasn’t accustomed to ponying horses. Didn’t know if she’d be any help to Scott.

Peter swung open the gate, snapping Scott a respectful salute as he rode Rambo from the round pen.

“Just link the lead line through the bit and we’ll walk over to the gap,” Scott said, as Rambo moved alongside Braun. “Rambo knows the drill.”

Megan leaned forward, slipped on the lead, and the two horses walked to the track like veterans.

“How do you think he’ll act?” she asked, keeping a wary eye on Rambo’s bright eye. “He looks happy to be out. But if he starts bucking, do you want me to turn to the left or just choke up on his head. Or maybe get him galloping?”

Scott remained silent.

“Get him galloping then? Is that best? Because I want to do this right.” She spotted Scott’s taut jaw and paused. Maybe he wanted to switch horses. Make her ride Rambo as punishment. Her father had done that, set her up for a fall whenever he thought she needed to learn humility.

“Do you want me to ride Rambo,” she asked, “now that you’ve softened him up? If so, I totally understand.”

His eyes flashed with an odd glint. “I don’t want any student to ride him. But especially not you.”

Warmth cascaded through her chest. It seemed he really was looking out for her. She wasn’t used to anyone doing that. It was an odd feeling, nice but rather unsettling. “He would have dumped me the first minute,” she admitted. “I can’t understand how Joey stayed on. I always thought I was the better rider.”

“But you didn’t know Joey.”

“I didn’t,” she said quickly. “Eve knew him though, so…just based on what she said.”

“I see.” But his eyes had narrowed. “My office ran a quick check. They found nothing on him, not since his last rehab when he was twenty-one.”

“See. Like Eve said, he wasn’t here to sell drugs.”

“Maybe not. But an addict is always an addict. If someone doesn’t want to be helped, it’s impossible. Eve should forget the guy. He’ll just drag her down.”

She pinched her lips and stared through Braun’s dark ears, appalled by Scott’s casual dismissal of her brother. If she’d given up on Joey, hadn’t supported him through those dark days, he wouldn’t be here right now.