by Kaki Warner
KD was right. No need to rush it. Take care of Khalil, see if the sheriff’s job was something he might be interested in, then talk it over again. “Okay,” he agreed, and pulled her in for a long, slow kiss. “Oh, look,” he said a few minutes later. “That pesky hard-on is back. Whatever will we do?”
KD laughed. “I have an idea.” She slid her hand down, gave him a gentle squeeze. “How’s that?”
“I’m not sure. Do it again.”
* * *
* * *
Dawn is a real eye-opener when you’re sleeping in the bed of a pickup. One moment, Richard was dreaming of KD’s breasts, and the next, he was blinded by sunlight hitting him full in the face and had a mosquito buzzing in his ear.
Or maybe that was KD’s phone.
Or maybe the little boy sitting on their picnic table, staring at them, had said something. No, it was the phone, he realized, when he heard it buzz again.
Beside him, KD bolted upright, hair poking out every which way. “What the—” She looked around, saw the boy watching them, and flopped back down.
“Better answer that,” Richard advised when her phone buzzed a third time.
She dug through the blankets, found her cell, punched Accept. “Yes? Oh. Hello, Dr. Prescott. No, I was up.” Leaning up on one elbow, she shot Richard a what the hell look, saw the boy still staring at them, and yanked the blanket over her mostly bare chest. “You did? What did she say?” A pause. “That soon?” Now the look showed panic. “Of course it’s not a problem. I’ll alert our staff.”
Dropping the phone onto the blanket, she quickly straightened her tank top so it covered her breasts. Much to Richard’s disappointment. “That was Dr. Prescott.”
“I heard. Scoot over. You’re on my pants.”
“Shh. Is he still there?”
“Prescott?”
“The boy.”
As she tugged his jeans out from under her butt, KD peered over the side of the truck.
The boy was still there.
“How long has he been watching us?” she asked, lying back down and digging for her shorts.
“I don’t know.” Richard kicked and bucked, struggling to pull his jeans on under the blanket. “I just woke up.”
“Where are my shorts? Do you have my shorts?”
“Why are you whispering?”
“Found them.” More squirming and twisting. “We have to hurry.”
“Why?”
“Wounded Warrior is loaning us a van. But it’s only available next Friday.”
“That’s almost a week away.”
“Five-and-a-half days. But we’re not ready. The refrigerator hasn’t been delivered, we haven’t stocked the kitchen, and the honey buckets won’t come until Tuesday or Wednesday. Is the boy still there?”
“No. But his parents are.”
“Shit.”
“You decent yet? I need to use the head.”
“Race you.”
* * *
* * *
When they turned onto the ranch drive two hours later, Richard saw Raney supervising two people who were pulling luggage from a BMW in the rear parking area. “Looks like you have company,” Richard said.
“That’s just Joss and Grady and baby Lyric. Brace yourself.”
The last time KD had said that was before he’d met her mother. Richard wondered if this meeting would be as stressful. “Brace myself for what?”
“You’ll see. Just don’t encourage her. Joss can be a little dramatic sometimes. Especially when she sees a handsome guy.”
He grinned over at her. “You think I’m handsome?”
“I think you’re adorable.”
“Sounds girly.”
“You’re anything but girly. And try not to smile. You’re especially adorable when you do. Hey, Joss!” KD climbed out of the truck as soon as it stopped and walked toward a pretty woman wearing a fringed leather vest and a multicolored clown wig. “How was the concert?”
“Great! I even got an encore. Grady, get Lyric. Raney, that’s too heavy for you. Who’s that in Dalton’s truck?”
“Richard Murdock. An army guy I brought home.”
Richard frowned. An army guy? That’s all he was? Bullshit. Putting on his best smile, he came around the hood of the truck. “You must be the famous sister Joss. KD told me you’re a star. I can see why.”
Before she could respond, he pulled her into a bear hug. “Hope I’m not being forward,” he said over her head with a wink at her gawking sisters. “But since KD and I are practically engaged, I feel like we’re already family.”
It wasn’t a clown wig, he realized when she jerked back, almost knocking into Raney, curls bouncing.
“Engaged!” She whirled toward KD, bangles and bracelets clanking. “When? Why didn’t you tell me? Oh my God! I can’t believe it! Grady! Come meet KD’s fiancé!”
“Fiancé?” Raney looked from one to the other, eyes round as blue marbles.
You’ll pay, KD’s scowl warned him.
Bring it, his grin said back.
While Joss and Grady loaded their luggage and baby upstairs to the half-redecorated nursery, Raney cornered KD and Richard. “Is it true? Y’all are engaged?”
“No,” KD blurted out before Richard could say anything. “We’ve talked about it, but nothing is official yet.” The acid glare she sent him told Richard she was working through various payback scenarios. But rather than antagonizing her more by pretending innocence, he simply asked where Dalton was.
“The techs are here, running labs on the bulls. His second most hated task.”
“What’s his first?”
“When they draw the semen.”
He didn’t ask any more questions.
From an upstairs window came Joss’s yell. “Raney! What did you do to the nursery? Where’s all Lyric’s stuff? Mama!”
“Mama’s on a date with the sheriff,” Raney yelled back.
“Then you better come up here and straighten this out!”
“Coming.” To KD and Richard she added, “I can’t wait until our house is done.”
* * *
* * *
The next few days were a mad dash to get Tent City ready for occupancy. The refrigerator finally came, the honey buckets were delivered and set up, and Maria made sure the kitchen was stocked. By the time Friday came, Mama had worked herself into a dither planning all sorts of social activities to entertain “her guests.”
“These are VA patients with adjustment issues, not guests,” KD had reminded her several times. “And most of them are on meds and not allowed alcohol, so they won’t be in festive moods. Plus, they might be dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” Mama would collect any stray that came along—sick, injured, lost, whatever. But if she thought any posed a danger, she kept her distance.
Before KD could answer, Richard cut in. “They’re not armed, ma’am. But you might want to lock up at night.”
“I can’t even serve dessert on the veranda?”
“Best not, Mama. Sugar doesn’t help.”
“But we should do something.” Mama took her hostess duties very seriously.
Dalton saved the day by convincing Sheriff Ford to take Mama to Fort Worth for a few days. KD didn’t want to think about what they would be doing while they were there. But at least Mama would be gone when the guinea pigs arrived.
* * *
* * *
The Wounded Warrior van drove through the front gate just after lunch on Friday. Dr. Prescott felt it would be less stressful if the patients could avoid introductions upon arrival, so KD met them in Richard’s pickup and led the van down to Tent City, all the while praying that she wasn’t making a colossal mistake. But when the van stopped in the compound and she saw the faces looking through the windows with various expressions of worr
y, hope, and maybe a little excitement, she began to believe this project might actually work.
Dr. Prescott—Conan—hopped out first, armed with his blue zipper pouch and his self-effacing smile.
Shirley exited next, returning KD’s greeting with a grin of excitement and her new prosthetic leg. “The doctor said I could ride! As long as I don’t fall off.”
“You won’t,” KD assured her, and hoped she was right.
When Tommy TBI climbed out, he seemed fairly lucid for once, and actually seemed to remember where he was and why he was there.
Sarge ignored KD altogether. Last out was Laura, wearing a timid smile and a scarf over the burned side of her face.
Except for Drummer Boy, they had all taken a leap of faith and made the trip. Suddenly, KD realized she was doing the right thing. She didn’t know if she could help these troubled soldiers, but she desperately wanted to try.
“Welcome to Whitcomb Four Star,” she said, determined to make this week a memorable one. She gave them their tent assignments, pointed out the dining tent, the shower tent, and the honey buckets, as well as the tack tent and hot-wired paddocks, which were empty for now. Conan told them he had a few announcements and for them to meet back at the fire ring in the center of the compound after they had settled in.
While the others wandered around, getting their bearings, Shirley dumped her duffle in her tent then went to scout out the kitchen. KD went with her to explain where everything was and how to work the ancient propane cookstove.
Fifteen minutes later, the group gathered on the log benches around the firepit. During Conan’s announcements about medications, schedules for meals, cleanup, and group meetings, KD texted Dalton to bring the horses.
As soon as Conan turned the meeting over to her, KD put on her brightest smile. “Y’all ready to meet your horses?”
Varying degrees of enthusiasm. Then wariness turned to interest when Richard, Dalton, Alejandro, and Chuy came through the trees, leading the horses.
Each newly appointed wrangler had been thoroughly prepped about his assigned rider, and the horses were chosen to fit each participant’s specific needs. No fast movements around Tommy TBI, so Chuy handed him the lead rope of the oldest and calmest horse on the ranch. Dandy wasn’t a dead head, but it took a major event to get a rise out of him, and he hadn’t spontaneously broken into a gallop in over five years.
Since Alejandro was a charmer with a strong protective streak, he was to help Laura, and he assured her that Roy, the handsome, sweet-tempered gelding assigned to her, was the gentlest and friendliest horse on the ranch. Richard led Bob, a lively, but well-mannered chestnut gelding, to Shirley, who was almost beside herself with excitement. KD hoped it was because of the horse, not the gorgeous hunk of human masculinity assigned to help her. Dalton, who was accustomed to keeping his temper when dealing with stubborn, headstrong animals, introduced Rocky, a big, experienced, trail-wise bay gelding, to Sarge. Hopefully they wouldn’t kill each other.
After the wranglers explained the likes and dislikes, quirks and preferences of the horse assigned to each rider, they stepped back to let the horse and the pupil get to know each other.
Tommy TBI mostly grinned and stroked Dandy’s neck. Dandy mostly dozed.
Roy didn’t seem to mind Laura’s scars, and within minutes, she was laughing and scratching his chin like Alejandro showed her.
Shirley ignored the gorgeous hunk of human masculinity altogether and concentrated on giving Bob whispered endearments and a good scratch behind his ear.
Sarge and Rocky and Dalton largely ignored one another.
But it all seemed to go well, to KD’s relief. None of the horses misbehaved, and most of the humans seemed happy with their new, long-faced friends. And with that, the first session of horse therapy at the Rough Creek Second Chance Rehabilitation Center began.
CHAPTER 18
After almost two months travel over sea and land, the three Afghans arrived in Matamoros, Mexico just after noon. There, they were met by four armed cartel soldiers who searched them for weapons, took the old Afghan’s valise, and gave them hoods to put over their heads. It was hot and hard to breathe under the hoods, but the Afghans said nothing.
For an hour, they drove on a bumpy road with many bridges and sharp turns, until the car clattered over a metal barrier and stopped. The driver spoke to someone outside of the car, then they drove on for another distance, slowed, and stopped again. This time, they were taken out of the vehicle and turned over to two other armed men, who allowed them to remove their hoods.
When they did, one of the new cartel soldiers laughed and pointed at the older Afghan’s face. “Él tiene una cicatriz también.”
The other man snickered, which made the Afghan angry. Although he spoke English well, he did not speak Spanish, and he did not like the way these Mexican infidels looked at him when they laughed.
But he remained silent. He had other slights to address.
The two soldiers led them into a low metal building painted the color of the foliage around it and screened by brush and dozens of tall palm trees. A sharp breeze that smelled of the sea rattled the palm leaves, but the air was so damp and humid the sweat on their faces from wearing the hoods was slow to dry.
They were searched again, then given water to drink. The valise was returned to the older Afghan, and they were led up a sandy path to another metal structure, this one partially buried into the side of a tall, brushy sand dune. Two men with automatic rifles stood outside, watching their approach. A third man waited in the open doorway: Caracortada—Scarface—the leader of the newly formed and highly ambitious Matamoros Cartel.
“I am Khalil Farid,” the old Afghan said in English to Caracortada. He had been told the cartel leader also spoke and understood that language. “I bring to you a gift and a proposition. All I ask in return is a small favor that is well within your powers to grant.”
* * *
* * *
Late Saturday afternoon a week after the attendees had arrived, the Whitcomb sisters—minus Len—and their significant others sat on the veranda, awaiting the call to dinner. Without Mama there, they’d decided to eat on the veranda rather than the formal dining room. With the sunshades down and the misters on and the two water coolers Mama installed every summer blasting away, the outdoor room was as cool as a November Sunday.
Dalton and Raney shared one chaise. KD and Richard shared another, Richard slouched against the backrest, legs straddling the chaise, feet on the floor, while KD half reclined with her back against his chest. Joss stretched out in the third chaise, Lyric sleeping on her stomach, while Grady slumped in one of the upholstered chairs, head back, mouth sagging open, snoring. Apparently, he’d been on baby duty the previous night.
It had been a long week, getting the horse therapy project off the ground. Yet KD thought it was going well. Nobody had been thrown, kicked, or bitten. Horses, either. Shirley’s cooking was getting rave reviews. Tommy TBI hadn’t wandered off yet, and Laura had smiled once at Alejandro. Even Sarge had quit complaining and seemed in strangely high spirits whenever Shirley was around. Plus Mama was too busy doing God knows what with the sheriff to interfere.
Suddenly Joss bolted upright on her chaise, almost tumbling her sleeping daughter off her lap. “I’ve got an idea!”
Grady stopped mid-snore, roused himself to look around, saw nothing unusual, then dropped his head back again.
“She has an idea,” KD murmured.
“Should I brace myself?” Richard murmured back.
“Might be wise.”
Joss ignored them. “To celebrate KD’s and Richard’s soon-to-be-announced engagement, we should go out to Harley’s Roadhouse tonight!”
“Tonight?” KD was already so tired, she could barely keep her eyes open.
“I have to go out there anyway,” Joss went on. “Grady scheduled me to do a bene
fit for those people from Gunther whose house burned down. It’ll be fun! Sort of a last hoorah before parenthood claims Raney and Dalton and wedding plans tie up Richard and KD.”
“Do we have wedding plans?” Richard asked.
“No!” KD barked, felt Richard tense, and immediately softened the denial. “Not yet.” She was running out of patience trying to convince everybody, including Richard, that they weren’t officially engaged. She wanted it done right, and at the right time. Which meant telling Mama first, and when she was ready, and after Richard issued an actual proposal.
“Count me out,” Raney said. “Since I can’t drink now, and I never could dance, it’s a waste of my time. Besides,” she added, with a glance at Dalton behind her, “after what happened last year, the place has bad memories for me.”
“What happened?” Richard asked.
“Two guys picked a fight with my husband.”
Richard grinned at Dalton. “What’d you do to them?”
“Put them in the hospital, that’s what!” Joss crowed. “The fat one still limps and the other guy hears bells every time he shakes his head.”
Raney wasn’t amused. “It was awful. The scariest thing I’ve ever seen, the way they came at him.”
Dalton kissed his wife’s head. “Don’t get worked up, sweetheart. It wasn’t that bad and you’ll upset the baby.”
“It was definitely bad for those two asshats.”
Their cook, Maria, appeared in the hallway to announce that dinner was ready and for them to come into the kitchen and dish up their plates. As if on cue, Alejandro and Hicks came up the veranda steps.
Hearing the two newcomers enter woke Grady. “Time to eat?” He rubbed his hands over his face and yawned. “Sorry. Must have dropped off. Did I hear something about going out to the roadhouse tonight?”
Cradling Lyric in her arms, Joss rose and frowned at her older sister. “Raney won’t go.”
“Then maybe she can babysit,” Grady suggested, falling in behind his wife as they all headed into the kitchen.
