The Emerald Horseshoes

by Jane Josephs

  “You can just stop in front of that garage and let me out,” Alison said, pointing ahead and shifting her backpack onto her lap.

  “Looks like that spot’s taken,” Nick said. A delivery truck blocked the entrance to the condominium’s underground parking garage. Nick drove past it. “But a car just pulled out up ahead. I’ll park there and walk you to your door.”

  “You don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine.”

  In one smooth move, Nick backed his truck into the empty spot, put the truck in park and tuned off the ignition.

  Alison grinned. “I’m amazed. Your parking skills are incredible.”

  Nick tapped the steering wheel. “Parking this thing is easy compared to parking with a four-horse trailer behind me.”

  Alison reached for her door handle. “Well, thanks again.”

  “Alison, I said I’ll walk you to your door.”

  She sucked in a breath and started to protest.

  “Alison . . .” he warned.

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

  “What? You don’t like good manners?” Nick growled and opened his door. He walked around the front of the truck and scanned the sidewalk. Thirty feet ahead, a homeless man had stretched out next to a building, sound asleep. He opened Alison’s door and offered her his hand out of habit. At her touch, his stomach jumped.

  “Does pulling a horse trailer mean you have horses?” Alison asked as they walked toward her building.

  “Yeah, Quarter Horses. Five of them. Soon to be six. One of our mares, Dotty, is expecting her first foal in about ten weeks.”

  “Oh, that is so cool. I have wanted to take riding lessons my whole life.”

  “Really?” A little dog next to the sleeping man began to bark furiously. Nick reached instinctively for Alison’s arm, but she breezed past him, heading for the dog.

  “Be careful,” Nick warned.

  “Rufus,” Alison crooned, getting down on her knees. “Hush, little puppy.” She stroked the dog with both hands, her affection obvious. The man’s breathing stopped and started again, his snores louder than ever.

  Nick approached the dog and Alison. Rufus growled. The smell of an unwashed body and urine was unmistakable.

  “Stop that, you dufus, Rufus.” She laughed softly. “This is Nick. He’s one of the good guys. Navy, just like your papa.”

  Nick smiled, pleased to be called a good guy. He took Alison’s elbow and steadied her as she stood.

  “The man’s name is Eddie,” she said as they resumed walking. “He’s a Vietnam vet, an alcoholic, on and off drugs, and usually here in this same spot every night. He found Rufus, he told me, right before I moved in. He knew my grandma.”

  Moved by her compassion for Eddie and Rufus, Nick still couldn’t help himself from asking, “So, do you ever give him money?”

  Alison chuckled, and turned to him. “You wouldn’t approve of that, would you?”

  The challenge in her eyes was unmistakable. Nick didn’t cower. “Well, no, I wouldn’t. If he’s an alcoholic and a drug user like you say, you’ll just be enabling him to feed his addiction if you give him money.”

  “And, what if he needs soap or socks or new . . .” She broke off speaking and stopped walking abruptly.

  Nick followed her gaze. A young girl detached herself from the parking garage wall and walked toward them. Heavily tattooed and pierced, she had blond hair partially died black.

  “Emma,” Alison cried, rushing forward “What are doing here?”

  Puzzled, Nick hung back, watching the scene unfold. From the look on Alison’s face, she obviously knew and cared for the girl. Nick shook his head. Alison might live in a luxury condo, but from what he had seen tonight, she was just as much at home with San Diego’s homeless population as if they were her dearest friends.

  The girl Alison had called Emma glanced at him. “Who’s he?” she mumbled.

  Alison glanced back at Nick. “His name is Nick. He’s okay. You can trust him. What’s up?”

  “I need to talk to you, that’s all,” Emma said. “I need a bus pass, too.”

  “Come into the lobby with me.” She put her arm around Emma and led her toward the lobby entrance. Over her shoulder, she said, “Thanks again, Nick, for the ride home.”

  Nick bristled. No matter who the girl was, he wasn’t about to leave Alison to deal with her alone. Did she even know Emma had a knife sticking out of the top of her boot? “I think I’ll stick around.”

  “You don’t need to.”

  “Yes . . . I do.”

  Alison retrieved a card from the front pocket of her backpack, held it up to a security device next to the door, and punched in a code. Nick grabbed the door from her and held it open. He followed the women inside. Without turning, Alison led Emma to the sofa across the room and sat down beside her.

  Nick couldn’t hear their conversation, but Alison’s body language clearly conveyed her distress at whatever Emma was telling her. After a few minutes, when it seemed the worst of the conversation was over, Alison got up and came to him, leaving Emma on the sofa.

  “Will you come with me?”

  “Sure. What’s up?” Nick followed her to the elevator.

  Once inside, Alison slumped against the back wall of the elevator. “She thinks she’s got hepatitis,” she moaned. “She met this guy, Travis, a few weeks ago. I think he fixed her up with some drugs, but she won’t admit it. She’s a mess. I only hope it’s nothing life-threatening.” Alison rubbed her hand down her face and through her hair, her eyes filling with tears. “Like I said, she’s a mess.”

  Undone by the tears in her eyes, Nick moved to stand next to her. “I won’t argue with that but try not to stress. If it is hepatitis, it can be treated, as long as she gets to a doctor. Who is this girl, Emma, anyway? Is she family?”

  “No. And you’re right. I’m just tired. And, I want so much for Emma to have some stability in her life!”

  The depth of her compassion nearly undid him.

  “She was in foster care most of her life. The family kicked her out of the house the day she turned eighteen. She’s got a learning disability, anxiety, low self-esteem, you name it. So, she never finished high school. I met her when she was living on the street, made a few calls and got her some help, so she’s in an apartment now. But it’s a dump.” Alison sighed, her face creased with worry.” I don’t want to talk about it, Nick, okay? I’ve got to figure out what to do.”

  Fighting the urge to touch her, Nick breathed a sigh of relief when the elevator doors opened. Alison led the way to her door. She used her security card again and went inside.

  Nick closed the door behind them and turned as Alison dropped her backpack beside a console table in the foyer. She might not want to talk, but Nick sensed she didn’t want to be alone with the problem either.

  “What can I do to help?” he asked, the question torn from him. He didn’t want to get involved, and yet, he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to comfort Alison. Her every move, every look radiated her anxiety and uncertainty about how to help Emma. Just how long had this relationship been going on? And why?

  Alison turned finally and threw back her shoulders, her expression grim. “She wants a bus pass so she can go to a clinic that’s downtown. And she’s hungry. I don’t know why I wanted you to come up here with me. It’s nothing I can’t handle.” She strode into the large living room where a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows provided a stunning view of the San Diego Bay.

  Nick followed, puzzled by the abrupt change in her. Gone was the woman who had been so forlorn in the elevator. “Nice view to come home to,” Nick said gently, coming to stand beside her.

  Bowing her head, she huffed out a deep sigh and turned to look at him. “Yes, it is. The sunsets are amazing. Thank you for remindin
g me there’s still beauty in the world.”

  The urge to take her in his arms and sooth away her tension nearly overwhelmed him. Nick stepped back, fighting the impulse. He needed to get home, away from the temptation that was messing with his head. “Do you have a bus pass for her? I’ll give it to her and take her to get something to eat before I take her home. You need to get some sleep.”

  Alison shook her head. “And let you handle my mess? No.”

  “It’s Emma’s mess, not yours. But I admire you for trying to help her. Now, do you have that pass?” His eyes pierced hers. “Or should I give her some money to buy one?”

  Alison grinned. “You’d do that? No way! Anyway, Emma’s terrible with money.” Alison paced away before turning and coming to stand in front of him. “I hardly know you, Nick, and yet . . . I don’t know. I guess I just feel like I can trust you. If you’re serious, I’ll get the bus pass.”

  “I’m serious. You can trust me to get her home. It’s better than her being out on the street alone, isn’t it?”

  Alison sighed. “I have a car. I can take her home.”

  Nick shook his head. “Then I’d be worried about you being out this late.”

  “You’re a good man, aren’t you, Nick?” She swallowed, staring at him a moment longer. “Okay, then.” She went into a small room adjacent to the living room and returned waving a ticket. “This is good for ten trips, so Emma can get to the clinic as many times as it takes.” She handed Nick the pass. “Are you sure you want to do this? I hate that I brought you into this little drama.”

  “I’m sure I should drive her—instead of you. Do you realize she has a knife in her boot?”

  “She lives on the street—or almost on the street. I don’t blame her for carrying a knife. Will you text me when you get her home? Please?”

  “I don’t have your number.” Nick nearly groaned. If he had her number, he’d want to call her. And if he called her, she’d have his number. What kind of spell was she casting on him?

  “But you have your phone with you, right?”

  He grimaced and pulled his phone out of his front pants pocket. He keyed in his password and handed it to her, unable to keep from watching as her thumbs flew over the letters and numbers on his phone.

  She handed it back and smiled. “Done. I still can’t believe you’re going to do this for me. You’re one in a million, Nick.” In a flash, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

  Nick’s heart shot to his throat. His cheek tingled where she’d kissed him. He stepped back, shaken and determined not to show it. “Thanks. I’ll let you know how it goes.” He turned and strode to the door. “Good night, Alison.”

  “Good night, Nick. Thanks again.”

  Alison closed the door and leaned against it, her lips curving into a smile.

  Chapter 5

  The text from Nick came a little after midnight, short and to the point: Emma is home.

  Alison grinned at the brevity of his message, so like him from what she’d learned today. He didn’t waste words. Or give away his feelings. No wonder he’d won the poker game at Tony’s. More than once she’d heard the rest of the guys lamenting in loud, boisterous voices about how Nick’s poker face had caused them to fold earlier in the game than they should have. Tonight, faced with her concern for Eddie and Emma, he hadn’t walked away or shown any irritation. Instead, he’d stayed and simply asked how he could help. His sincerity moved her. Frightened her too, if she was honest. Nothing about him fit the pattern she had come to expect from the guys she dated. They were all about what they could get; Nick had wanted to give. What did he hope to gain?

  More to the point, what would he think of her if he found her website? Read one of her sweet romantic fantasies that even Grandma Kate had enjoyed? A yawn caught her off guard. Until now she hadn’t been the least bit sleepy. The reason stared her in the face. Nick. His message. His phone number. Knowing he was with Emma because of wanting to help her. The possibility of a real relationship bloomed in her heart. She glanced from her phone to her laptop where the blog post she had written stared at her. A total fantasy that ended with nothing more sensational than a gentle kiss, but oh, how she wished it could be true. It had spilled out of her imagination and onto her screen with little effort after her day with Nick. Every woman’s dream. The sweet stuff that her readers loved.

  Alison licked her lips and sighed a shaky breath. She had used his first name in the post, something she didn’t often do. But she had to risk it, didn’t she? What good had caution ever done her? Wasn’t negative attention better than no attention? Would he give her a chance to explain? He didn’t fit the mold of the type of guy that usually fueled her romantic writings. Except for his drop-dead gorgeous looks. But there was something about him that intrigued her, some hidden mystery begging to be solved.

  No longer sleepy, Alison went into the kitchen. She reached for a coffee mug as a plan took shape in her head.

  ~ ~ ~

  Nick showed his pass to the guard at the gate on Monday morning and found a parking space on the base. The forty-mile commute from Ramona had been less hectic than usual, thanks to the light pre-dawn traffic. Grabbing his backpack, he got out of the truck, locked it and headed for the Navy Exchange.

  “Hey, Nick!”

  Nick turned to see CJ at the other end of the aisle. He grabbed an energy drink off the shelf and walked over to him. “What’s up?”

  “So, I guess you and Alison had quite an evening on Saturday, huh?”

  Thinking CJ must have somehow heard about Alison’s friend Emma, he shrugged. “I guess I was in the right place at the right time. It was unexpected, all right.”

  CJ chuckled. “Interesting. Doesn’t seem like you, you know? I mean, you’ve been known to hold back from getting . . .” He cleared his throat. “ . . . hmm, involved. Especially with women.” He shot Nick a worried look. “Just be careful, okay? I don’t want to see you, you know, get in trouble.”

  Puzzled by CJ’s uneasy demeanor and cryptic warning, Nick shrugged. “No worries. It’s all good. I’ll see you later.” He paid for his drink and left the Exchange.

  Ten minutes later, Nick walked over to the Schoolhouse, the building where he spent a good portion of his time working with the guys who hoped to one day be SWCCs. The gym was empty, just as he’d hoped.

  After stretching, he worked his way through a light morning routine: A hundred sit-ups, a hundred push-ups and a couple of easy rope climbs. But he couldn’t shut out CJ’s warning. Why is he worried about me getting in trouble? Pushing his concern aside as the product of an overactive imagination after the late-night adventure on Saturday with Alison, Nick huffed out a long, slow breath and attacked the pull-up bar. Fifteen minutes later he finished his routine, just as Tony arrived.

  Tony dropped his jacket and came over to Nick. “I don’t believe it, man!” Tony’s face split into a grin. “That was some ride home you gave Alison. You barely know this girl and you’re . . . you’re . . .”

  “Good morning.”

  Tony bobbed his head. “I guess you did tell Kayla and me you’d get a woman when you wanted one. Well, but . . . I just never thought . . . it would be Alison.” He laughed and shook his head.

  Nick grabbed Tony’s shoulder. “What did you say?”

  Tony grinned. “Looks like you’re good and over anything you ever had going with Carrie.”

  Nick jerked involuntarily at Tony’s reference to his former girlfriend, Carrie Stauworth. The breakup had happened during Nick’s last deployment, more than a year and a half ago. He’d never told anyone the circumstances that caused it. Didn’t plan to. But he hadn’t moved on from it either. That much, everyone knew. Whatever Tony was saying he heard about Saturday didn’t jive with what had—and hadn’t—happened at Alison’s condo.

  “What are you tal
king about? Nothing happened between Alison and me, except that I helped her handle a situation with a homeless girl who needed some food. Just where are you getting this stuff about us?”

  “You don’t know what’s out there, do you? Kayla got a text from Alison yesterday, thanking her for inviting her to the competition and the party. Said she hoped Kayla’s headache was gone and mentioned that she’s a blogger. Kayla got curious and googled her. Turns out you’re the subject of Alison’s latest blog.” Tony’s index finger jabbed Nick in the chest, making no effort to contain his smirk. “Looks like you tied your boat to the Love Dock.” He broke out in a full fit of laughter as he backed away. “Dock, Dockerty. Get it? The woman’s got a following, I’ll give her that!”

  Nick’s fury built sharply. Just what Alison could have said about him, he didn’t have a clue, but he was going to find out. Immediately!

  Just then, one of the other instructors came through the far door. “Hey, Nick,” he shouted. “The students are at the beach. What are you waiting for?”

  Nick’s stomach clenched. “Make that, not now,” he ground out under his breath. He glanced around, his level of frustration growing. He hadn’t done anything with Alison. Anything obvious anyway. Nick ran his hand around the back of his neck, the hint of fury creeping up to his cheeks. What he’d been feeling for her didn’t count, did it?

  He checked his watch. He and Tony were overseeing the mile ocean swim. As his fellow instructor had so rudely reminded him, the students were waiting. It was time to put on his wetsuit and get out to his jet-ski at the dock. Dock. A picture of being tied to Alison shot into his head and he swallowed hard. With a violent swipe, he retrieved his sweatshirt and jogged to his equipment cage to change.

  The boat support team was waiting out on the ocean with three big, orange buoys when Nick pulled up on his jet ski. Tony arrived half a minute later. Together they hauled the buoys off the boat and placed them five hundred yards apart using their GPS settings to mark the course. As soon as they finished, the instructors on the beach sent the thirty SWCC students into the ocean. They swam a little past the surf zone to begin an exercise that had to be completed in at least forty-five minutes, or they failed. Not wanting to be subjected to any more of Tony’s laughter until he could read Alison’s blog for himself, Nick headed to the back of the group and stayed alongside the slowest swimmers.