Lois Greiman - [Hope Springs 02] (23 page)

“H
ow’s she doing?” Casie kept her voice low as she approached Ty from behind, but he jumped anyway, his chapped hand jerking where it rested on Angel’s neck.

It took him a second to respond. “All right, I guess,” he said, but he didn’t turn to look at her. It was reminiscent of the early days, when he would come here for refuge. Come here with a bruised face and battered soul. Her heart twisted at the thought, crumbled at the idea that they were back at the beginning.

“We’re becoming a regular convalescent camp,” she said and stepped a little closer. He didn’t respond. She gazed over the stall door at the gray, who nudged Ty with her nose, silently complaining about the lack of attention.

He stroked her distractedly.

“She seems more comfortable,” Casie said.

He said nothing.

“Sam’s supposed to come today to check on her. I think that will—”

“I’m sorry.” He said the words quickly and a little too loud.

“It’s okay.” Casie forced a smile. “She’s not that bad. Maybe she’ll even wear a real shirt this time,” she said, but he failed to laugh. Instead, he turned his eyes toward her. They were haunted and tired, as old as forever.

“It’s because of me, isn’t it?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know what—”

“The subpoena—” He bit off the word as if it were poison. “It’s because of my folks.”

She stared at him. “Don’t worry about that, Ty. It’s going to be fine.”

They stared at each other. He shook his head, choked a laugh. “Or is it because I . . .” He motioned toward the pair in the adjacent stall. “Is it because I stole a horse?”

She shook her head, agonized by his expression, by his faultfinding. “Freedom needed saving. It was an act of kindness.” She didn’t have to force a smile as she turned toward the stall next door. “Look how happy she is.”

There was no more pacing, no wild-eyed worry. Instead, the mare stood in the center of her stall, one hip cocked, muzzle resting lovingly on her scrawny baby’s bushy tail.

“I shouldn’t have done it,” he said.

“The way I heard it, it was Sophie’s idea.”

“It wasn’t. It was—”

“You don’t need to lie,” she said quietly.

He swallowed and shook his head. “I should have talked her out of it.”

She laughed, despite everything. “God himself couldn’t have talked Sophie out of that, Ty.”

“I’m a weakling,” he said. The words were almost inaudible.

“What?” She stepped closer, drawn in by the pain in his voice. “What’d you say?”

“Mom’s right,” he said, and swallowing, turned away. “I ain’t got no backbone at—”

“Ty!” Her voice was sharper than she meant it to be. She took a deep breath and steadied her hands. “Your mother’s a . . .” She stopped herself, though it took every ounce of fortitude she had. “Your mother’s
not
right. Not about that . . . not about a lot of things.”

A muscle twitched in his face. He shook his head, but she rushed on before he could speak.

“I’m not condoning theft,” she said. “But this horse . . .” She glanced at the mare next door again. She was nibbling gently at her foal’s rump, delicate kisses that spoke of adoration, of unbridled happiness. “Freedom . . .” She smiled. Her eyes stung. She cleared her throat. “It took a lot of nerve to sneak into that barn. A lot of nerve to bring her here.”

He shook his head again, expression pinched. “Sophie’s the brave one. I just followed along. I didn’t mean to cause you no trouble. I didn’t think . . .” He paused, winced. “I just didn’t think,” he whispered. “And now here you are in trouble because of my stupid—”

“It’s not something you did,” Casie said.

He stopped, scowled.

She cleared her throat, fiddled with a piece of straw caught between the stall door and the frame. “It’s something
I
did.”

He stared at her in silence for several seconds, eyes narrowed, breath held before he spoke. “You’re lyin’,” he said. “You’re lying to protect me. But I ain’t no little kid, Case. I can handle it. Just tell me the truth.”

“It’s because I didn’t guard Sophie closely enough. I shouldn’t have allowed her to go out with a guy I knew nothing about. I should have said no, regardless of what her father wanted. I’m sorry you had to be the one to protect her.”

He blinked at her and for a second she thought she might have won this battle, but he pursed his lips. “So you
are
in trouble cuz of me.”

“No!” she said. “The Pritchards don’t have a case. They’re lawyers—just looking to make trouble because their idiot son is . . .” She shrugged. “An idiot. It’s not your fault. Listen to me, Ty. This guilt thing you have going on . . . I’m no therapist, but you’ve got to quit blaming yourself. It’s going to eat you up.”

“You afraid I’m gonna go crazy or something?”

She opened her mouth, though honestly, she had no idea what she planned to say.

“You think I’m crazy already?”

Casie exhaled and raised her chin a little. Calm settled in like a fog, making her limbs feel heavy, her mind feel free. Let the bastards sue her, she thought. See where it got them. “I think you’re the most honorable person I’ve ever met,” she said.

He shook his head once, but she spoke again before he could argue. “I think that I’m lucky to know you. I think we’re
all
lucky to know you. And I think your mother—” She stopped before she found herself climbing into Puke and kicking the stuffing out of the stupid cow again. “She didn’t deserve you.”

He searched her eyes and she let him. There was nothing to see there but the truth.

He drew a deep breath as if trying to believe, as if struggling for balance. “What you going to do about the subpoena?”

She shrugged, nerves cranking up a little again. “I’m going to show up in court and tell them the truth.”

He looked like he was going to throw up. And for some reason that made her laugh. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

“They can put you in jail.”

The laughter froze on her lips. She suddenly felt sick to her stomach, too, but she took a deep breath and smiled, pretending confidence as best she could. “They’re not going to put me in jail,” she said.

“You could lose the Lazy.”

Well, yes, she thought.
That
could happen.

 

It was later that night that Casie stood in Freedom’s stall. The mare swished her tail, seeming unconcerned by her uninvited guest’s after-hours visit. The foal touched his muzzle to Casie’s leg tentatively, then jerked away and galloped a wild circuit around the narrow enclosure.

His antics brought tears stinging to Casie’s eyes.

She could lose this, she thought. She could lose it all. She gritted her teeth against the injustice of it, but her tears fell nevertheless. Anger flared through her. She banged her fist against the wall.

“It’s easier if you use a hammer.”

She jerked at the sound of Colt’s voice, pivoting away to hide her tears.

“I was just . . .” She cleared her throat. Closed her eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t know. I was bored.”

“It’s two o’clock in the morning.”

“Yeah, not much going on this time of day.”

“Go to bed.”

“Is that an invitation?”

She snorted and chanced a glance in his direction. His grin was cocksure, but there was something in his eyes. Understanding, maybe. Or pity. She hated pity.

“Linette’s right,” he said, changing the subject as he folded his forearms across the top of the stall door. “That is one ugly foal.”

She glanced at the colt, then surreptitiously swiped at the tears with the back of her hand. “Is not.”

“He looks like a llama.”

“He doesn’t . . .” She tilted her head a little, studying the misshapen head, the long curling whiskers on his chin. “Llamas are cute.”

He chuckled as he stepped into the stall. For a second she was tempted to brush past him, to hurry out of sight. But she hated being a coward. Or maybe she was just tired. She turned toward him, hoping against hope that he hadn’t heard her crying, that he couldn’t read her eyes. But his expression was atypically sober, his mouth for once unbent by humor.

“Let me help,” he said.

“What are you talking about?” She took a step back and gave him her best look of confusion, her best upbeat tone. “Help with what?”

“Anything.” There was angst in his voice suddenly, sounding harsh in the aftermath of her forced cheeriness.

“I don’t need any help. Everything’s fine. Angel’s recuperating. Freedom’s doing well. The Lazy—”

“Let me hire an attorney.”

She gave him a shocked expression. “For what?”

“You did the right thing,” he said, and there was something in his eyes. Something that threatened to warm her belly and soften her heart, but she refused to acknowledge it. Just stood, instead, watching him. “God, I’ve never been happier than when you beat the crap out of Ty’s bitch of a . . .” He stopped himself with an obvious effort. “Just let me help.”

The rumbling sincerity of his tone was desperately tempting, but she’d been seduced into letting others run her life before. And look where that had gotten her. She’d all but lost the ranch. All but lost
herself
. She shook her head and reached up to stroke Freedom’s face. It was as delicate as a porcelain vase. “It’ll be fine. Like you said . . .” She swallowed. “I was justified. Besides, that’s not what the subpoena was for.”

“What then?”

“David Pritchard’s parents are suing me.”

“Pritchard! The snotty kid in the Camaro?”

“They allege that he was in danger while on my property. Therefore I’m responsible.”

“Are you kidding me? He was drinking. And he’s twice as big as Ty.”

“I’m still responsible.”

“That’s bull. That’ll never stand up in court.”

“Maybe you’re not an expert on responsibility,” she said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His tone had gone dark.

She turned to face him. “Are you even paying child support?” she asked and felt a dark release at the change of topic.

He said nothing.

“For your daughter,” she said, voice rising as she faced him. “Are you even helping with the day-to-day—”

“I don’t have a daughter,” he said.

She stared at him, then huffed a laugh. “What is it, Dickenson? Don’t tell me you thought the
mother
should be exclusive even if
you—
”

“She had an abortion.”

Casie blinked. “What?”

He glanced away. His jaw looked hard, but his eyes were wounded. “She, ahh . . . she said she was going to if I didn’t . . . If we didn’t . . .” He swallowed.

“If you didn’t marry her?” Her voice was just a whisper.

He cleared his throat but didn’t look at her. “I didn’t believe her. I mean, I knew she was . . .” He chuckled. The sound was broken. “I knew she was seeing Hedley.”

“Brooks? She was dating Brooks?”

“She’s a mounted shooter, too. She’s good. Nationally ranked. And maybe she didn’t want the baby. . . .” He cleared his throat again. “Maybe she thought she’d lose her competitive edge if she was pregnant. Or maybe Hedley . . .” He shook his head. “He and I . . . we always butted heads. I should have known he wouldn’t have wanted her to . . .” He drew a deep breath and straightened to face her. “I made mistakes, Case. Terrible mistakes. But the thought of having a baby . . . a little girl . . .” His eyes misted. He glanced away. “I learned everything I could about . . .” He exhaled. “About labor and delivery. I would have supported her in every way I could.”

“Except emotionally.” She knew all about that. Her own father had been as distant as a mirage. “Except for being a real father to her.”

“I screwed up,” he said. “I realize that.”

“And how do I know what you
would
have done?” she asked.

“I thought you knew me.”

“Did you?” she asked. “Really? How would I? It’s not like you confide in me. Geez, you were going to be a father, and I would have never even known if Brooks hadn’t told me.”

“So you want to know about me now? Okay.” He jerked a nod. “I broke a couple of ribs last year. I don’t like asparagus. I can be a bear in the morning if my coffee—”

“Maybe you
wanted
her to get an abortion.”

He stopped cold. “Maybe I did.” His voice was very soft. “Maybe in some cowardly part of me I hoped she would.” He swallowed and clenched his teeth. “If that’s the truth, I’m sorry. But I can’t turn back the clock.” His eyes were dark and pained, drawing her in, but she held tight to her reserves.

“Brad lied to me, too,” she reminded herself.

“I’m not your damn fiancé!”

“No. As it turned out, he didn’t get anyone pregnant!”

The world went silent. He stared at her a long moment, then opened the door behind him and disappeared into the night.

L
inette was soaring, flying on horseback. The world below spread out beneath her like a magic carpet, robed in colors so bright they all but hurt her eyes. Between her legs, the palomino stallion glided like a silken ribbon.

She reached forward to caress the animal’s neck. His hide was as smooth as sun-warmed satin, as bright as gold. His muscles rippled like waves beneath her palm.

But something sprang at them suddenly. She saw the movement from the corner of her eye, and in that instant the stallion reared. She leaned into his crest, reaching for the mane that sprayed across her waist like corn silk. Her fingers caught nothing but air, and suddenly she was falling.

The earth rushed toward her. The impact hit her like a rock.

She awoke with a start. Pain burned her hip. She put a hand to the ache and sat up slowly, grappling for her bearings. But instead of the white walls and blinking monitors she had become accustomed to, she found she was surrounded by a rustic simplicity that eased her heart rate and steadied her breathing. The burnt-umber walls and rough-cut furniture reminded her where she was. Who she was. Who she used to think she would become.

Lifting her cell from the simple bedside stand, she pressed the appropriate digits and waited hopelessly. The phone rang the usual four times. She closed her eyes, ready to leave another message, but someone answered. A tiny voice.

“Hello?”

Linette sucked in a breath, gripping the phone until her fingers ached. “Lila? Is that you?”

“Who’s this?”

Tears sprang into her eyes. Tears from Heartless Hartman. How many people would have sworn it couldn’t happen? “Lila.” It was hard to say the name out loud. “Is your mommy there?”

There was a moment of silence, then, “I can whistle. Do you want to hear?”

She felt her mouth twitch, felt herself swallow. “Yes. I do. I really do.”

The noise she made sounded like a little leak of air leaving a tiny hose.

“Lily bird.” The voice in the background was soft, quiet, coming from another corner of the house. Linette held her breath. “What are you doing, honey? Are you . . . Oh no . . .” she said and chuckled.

Linette gripped her cell tighter and prayed for strength as she heard the phone being taken from the child.

“I’m sorry.” Maybe there was still a hint of little girl in the woman’s voice. Or maybe Linette simply wanted to believe that. “Lila just loves the phone. Who is this, please?”

“Heidi?” Linette’s voice almost failed her completely, making the sound scratchy and inhospitable. “This is your mother.”

There was a moment of silence. “I don’t have a mother,” she said. “Haven’t for thirty years.”

“Heidi, please, I’m sorry. I thought I was doing what was best for you. I didn’t want to leave you destitute like
my
father—”

“You were doing what was best for you,” she said, and hung up.

Linette sat immobile before sliding the phone shut and exhaling carefully. Across the rustic room, a mirror was framed in deep-grained barn wood. The woman in the looking glass appeared old and worn. Exhausted and beaten. But her gaze fell to the leather lead she had dragged from the trash can behind the house.

Stepping out of bed, she raised her chin and shoved the memory of her abandoned daughter behind her. She had become an expert at that. Lifting a padded envelope from the dresser, she addressed it to Detective Leonard Alderman. There were still a few people who owed her favors. In a moment, she had shoved the leather strap inside.

 

“So if I get the fiber from Colt’s mom, I can learn to spin
and
knit over the winter.” Emily put a hand to her abdomen. Fear blossomed as pain knifed across her abdomen. Braxton Hicks contractions, she told herself, and breathed through them. “Come spring I’ll be able to make all of Karma’s clothes myself.” Since deciding the baby was a girl, she had begun with names back at the beginning of the alphabet. So far, Cosima was her favorite.

“Alpaca diapers?” Casie asked. She was leaning back in the kitchen chair, one foot tucked beneath her as she nursed a cup of coffee.

“I said
clothes,
” Emily repeated. “Not diapers.”

“So you’re going to use disposables?” Sophie mused.

Emily turned on Sophie with a start. “Are you flipping? Cloth costs less than a fourth as much as disposable and that’s not even considering the environmental impact. If—” It wasn’t until she saw the sparkle in Sophie’s eyes that she realized she’d been played.

She rolled her eyes. “What about you, Linny? Which do you prefer?”

No one spoke. Emily glanced to her left, but the older woman’s gaze was distant as she stared out the window.

“Linny?”

“What?”

“I was just wondering if you used cloth or disposable diapers when Elizabeth was a baby.”

“Oh, I . . .” Her face looked pale and drawn. “You know what? I’m kind of tired. I think I’ll go lie down for a while.”

“Are you okay?”

“Sure. Of course. I’ll see you later,” she said and left. The screen door slammed behind her.

“What was that about?” Emily asked.

Sophie shrugged.

Casie scowled. “Do you think she’s not feeling well?”

“She’s got to feel better than I do,” Em said and pressed a hand to her ribs.

“What’s wrong?” Casie immediately sounded worried.

Emily shrugged, conflicted. She’d wanted a family of her own since the day she was old enough to understand what it meant to be alone. True, she hadn’t expected it to be like this exactly, but the thought of having someone to share blood with, to share life with, had always been a need nestled so deep inside her that it could barely be separated from the beat of her heart. But the fear was becoming overwhelming. Fear punctuated by glaring self-doubt and throbbing inadequacies.

“Em?”

“I’m fine,” she said, pressing harder on a rogue heel that seemed to be trying to jam its way between her ribs. I just . . .” she began, but just then a knock sounded on the door.

“I got it,” Sophie said and hurried into the foyer.

In a moment she was back. They stared at her, waiting for an explanation.

“Oh,” she said, realizing their interest. Glancing up momentarily, she sank back into her chair. “It’s just Colt.”

“Geez, Soph,” Colt said, stepping into the kitchen. “You’re making me blush.” Ignoring Casie, he turned toward Emily. “You got any more of that coffee?”

“Sure,” she said and watched her two favorite people in the world pointedly avoid each other. What the hell was their problem now?

“Well . . .” Casie carefully settled her coffee mug on the counter. “I better get that gate built,” she said, and brushing past Colt, deftly escaped from the people who loved her most.

 

Despite its inauspicious beginnings, the day hadn’t been a total bust, Casie thought. She was almost finished with the arena gate she was determined to build herself. Potential guests called from Washington State: a mother and her two daughters who were looking for some girl time. Emily whipped up some sort of green-bean concoction that made life worth living, and there was still time after supper to begin halterbreaking the new baby.

In fact, she and Sophie were doing just that, urging the little one out of the stall behind his momma while Emily made ridiculous suggestions, when Philip Jaegar stepped into the barn.

Casie felt her heart jerk nervously as he strode toward them. He was dressed in a pair of high-priced blue jeans and loafers imported from a more romantic part of the world. “Mr. Jaegar! We weren’t expecting you.” She glanced at his daughter. She looked a little pale. It was a pretty good bet that she hadn’t mentioned her sojourn into felony.

“Daddy.” The girl blinked, knuckles white against the newborn foal’s lead rope. “What are you doing here?”

He laughed. Philip Jaegar was nothing if not charismatic. “Can’t I stop by to see my favorite daughter now and then?”

“Sure. I mean . . .” She skimmed her gaze to Casie. Her wild-eyed glance did nothing to settle Casie’s stomach. “It’s great to see you.”

“Really?” He reared back a little, faking shock before his handsome face broke into another smile. “You short on cash or is the world just coming to an end?”

“No. No.” She shook her head, glossy hair shining in the overhead lights. “Of course not.”

“Who’s this?” he asked, nodding to the foal as he took an additional step toward the newborn.

“He’s, um . . .” Sophie glanced at Casie again. “He’s . . .” She licked her lips.

“He’s the Lazy’s newest addition,” Emily said.

“Yeah?” He stepped closer. Casie tightened her grip on Freedom’s lead rope when she fidgeted a little.

“Is that a new mare then?”

“New?” Casie said, and though she tried to avoid shifting her gaze to Emily, she couldn’t seem to help herself.

And Em didn’t fail her.

“Strangest thing,” the girl said, stepping casually into the breach. “We found her in the sheep pasture.”

“What?” He reared back on his well-shod feet again. “You mean, she just
appeared?
”

“Like a phantom horse,” Emily said, gathering steam. “It was surreal. I was the first one up in the morning because I’d set caramel rolls out to rise the night before and I wanted to see how they were doing. If you let them go too long they’ll fall, and with this climate change debacle I was afraid they’d get too warm. Anyway, when I looked out the kitchen window, there she was, running across the pasture. At first I thought I was still dreaming. I mean, I have the strangest dreams. You can’t imagine what a miniature person does to your REM when it’s cavorting on your bladder. Once I dreamed I was skiing naked in the Amazon jungle. Tarzan was there and . . . Well, never mind. Anyway, when I finally realized I wasn’t dreaming, I woke up Casie and Soph.”

Jaegar blinked as if just awakening himself. “And she was pregnant?”

Emily shrugged. “Everybody’s doing it,” she said and stroked her belly.

He laughed, thoroughly distracted. “So you don’t even know who they belong to?” he asked, glancing at his daughter.

She stared back at him, not speaking. Maybe Soph’s lying ability was as abysmal as Casie’s.

“We’re not sure,” Emily said, yanking up the verbal slack once again. “We think she might have escaped from a kill truck or something.”

“A kill truck?”

“Unwanted horses,” she said. “They haul them up to Canada for slaughter.”

“No,” Jaegar said, scowling. “I mean, I know the practice exists. But who would do something like that to such a beautiful animal?” Although he admired the equine pair, Casie noticed that he was careful not to venture any closer. “It wouldn’t even make sense. Why breed her if they’re just going to slaughter her? At least they would have waited until the colt was born. Right?”

No one spoke. You could cut the tension with a pocketknife. He shifted his gaze from one to the other. Lies seemed to be in short supply.

“Have you called around?” he asked. “It must be one of your neighbors’.”

Emily glanced from one to the other as if waiting for them to pull their verbal weight. They didn’t. She was carrying the proverbial load alone.

“I put flyers up in town, of course. I mean . . .” She shook her head. “They don’t exactly pop. They’re just made by hand since we don’t have a printer. Living in the dark ages definitely has its disadvantages.”

“And no one has called?” he asked, turning back to his daughter finally.

She managed a shrug and a scowl. It looked like the extent of her abilities.

“Tell you what,” he said. “I’ll put an ad in the lost and found for you if you’ll just give me her stats.”

“That’s . . .” Casie felt her stomach knot up and her knees go weak. “That’s not necessary.”

He shook his head. “It’s no problem. Assurant Realty gives the paper a lot of business. They’ll probably cut me a deal. In fact . . .” He snapped his cell from the front pocket of his perfectly pressed jeans. “I’ll call them right now. What would you like me to—”

“I stole her!” Sophie breathed the words.

Jaegar’s brows rose, his mouth formed a soundless O, before he tilted his head and narrowed his eyes as if thinking very hard.

“What?” he asked.

No one spoke.

He chuckled a little as if waiting for the punch line, then turned expectantly toward Casie.

“I’ve, um . . .” Her voice was barely audible to her own ears. “I’ve been trying to contact you.”

The barn went silent for two seconds before Emily stepped back into the breach. “I think Sophie is speaking figuratively. I mean—”

“She was being abused,” Sophie said. “Confined to a tie stall for months at a time. No exercise. Not enough water. Raped. Neglected . . .”

“You
stole
her!” Jaegar’s voice exploded like a nuclear bomb.

“There was nothing else I could do!” Sophie snapped. All hope of being appeasing had disappeared from her voice. “She was pregnant, exploited for her . . . for her
urine
. . . for God’s sake. It should be a crime. It
is
a crime if you ask—”

“What the hell is she talking about?” Jaegar turned on Casie like a caged bear.

It took everything Casie had not to back away. “We’ll return her to the rightful owner,” she said. “We just . . . wanted to make sure she had the foal safely, and now that we—”

“You stole her?”

Sophie shook her head. “Casie didn’t—”

“It’s my fault,” Casie said. “I should have—”

“You’re damn right it’s your fault!” He swept his hand through the air as if cutting any lingering cords between them. “First she ends up in the hospital because of some juvenile delinquent and now—”

“Ty’s not a delinquent.”