by Becki Willis
…a murder!…
…With his hot temper, sometimes Guy scares me…
The overhead sun was warm, but a chill of apprehension pebbled Hannah’s skin. Holy boomtown! Had Guy Wood really murdered Rusty?
Guy was clearly protective of his younger brother, but would he go as far as killing a man to ensure his happiness? And if that were the case, would he now harm her, believing she cost Jeff his promotion? What if the two of them had done it together? Sure, it was crazy, but so was Jeff pursing the very woman his brother was in love with. The whole thing was twisted. The brothers were twisted.
No longer concerned about being discreet, Hannah turned around to flee in the opposite direction of where Guy stood. When she saw Jeff coming from the other end, she knew the two brothers had her trapped.
“Hey, little brother,” Guy greeted him. “Here’s your chance to have that talk with Miss Duncan.”
Hannah whirled back around, trying to judge her best chance of escape. Jeff was younger and more agile, but Guy was no doubt stronger. Did she stand a chance getting past either?
“Just the lady I was looking for,” agreed Jeff.
“M—Me? Why were you looking for me?”
“Seeing as we’re stuck here for a few days, Talia said you—”
“Talia?” Guy broke in sharply. “You’re not seeing her again, are you? Tell me she’s not the one we did all this for!”
Hannah barely heard his brother’s denial. She was more focused on what Guy meant by ‘all this.’ Was he referring to his best friend’s murder?
Behind Guy, she saw the long, tall form of Shelton Long amble past. With a cry of happiness, she called his name. “Shelton! Shelton, wait up!”
“Oh, hey, Hannah,” he said, backing up. His smile said he was pleased to see her. “What happened to you earlier? You just disappeared on me.”
Guy looked angry over the interruption, but she ignored him as she scooted past. She all but ran toward Shelton, her knees wobbling in relief.
Once again, the handsome farrier had come to her rescue.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“You look a might piqued. You okay?” Shelton used his exaggerated country bumpkin accent as he peered down at her.
Wanting to put as much distance between herself and the brothers as possible, Hannah grabbed his arm and all but pulled him along. “I’m worried about Ladybird,” she said, knowing that would get his attention.
“You and me both, darlin’. I just don’t know what’s wrong with her.” He looked forlorn. “She won’t eat, won’t drink, won’t even get up and walk.”
In a hurry or not, Hannah stumbled in surprise when her feet forgot to walk. She scrunched her face in confusion. “I thought she was recovered. She was standing there eating hay, not ten minutes ago!” Hannah told him.
“That’s impossible. Doc says she may not be able to stand.”
Eager to prove him wrong, Hannah walked faster, until they were within sight of the horse.
The dapple lie on her side, stomach heaving. She lifted her head, looked at them with sad brown eyes, and laid back down with a pathetic sounding nicker.
“I—I don’t understand,” Hannah said. “I was just here. She was up and moving around. She even came to the fence so I could pet her!”
“You must be mistaken. Doc says it’s nerve damage. She can’t walk. Her leg won’t move.”
“Shelton, I’m telling you, I saw that horse on all four feet!”
His face set in determination. “No, you didn’t.”
Hannah was completely flabbergasted. She dropped his arm and stood back, planting both her hands on her hips. “Are you seriously going to stand there and call me a liar? I know what I saw, Shelton.”
“And I know that my horse is lame. You’re mistaken.”
Walker returned in time to see the heated standoff. Hannah glared up at the tall horseman, her eyes blazing and her posture stiff. Recognizing that look, he couldn’t help but chuckle. Horse boy was in for it now. When Hannah lost her temper, she could be a real firecracker.
Long didn’t seem to be concerned with the threat of sparks. He stared down at her, his eyes cold and his face determined.
“What’s going on here?” Walker asked. He touched a hand to Hannah’s back, letting her know that, no matter what the disagreement was about, he took her side.
“I was here ten minutes ago, and that horse was fine,” Hannah said, biting the words off in angry snippets. “She was up on her feet, eating and wanting me to pet her. But Shelton is calling me a liar.”
“I didn’t say you were lying, I said you were mistaken. Look at her! Just look at Lady! She’s obviously in no shape to be standing around eating!”
“Shelton, I know what I saw. Maybe she’s like a kid. Maybe this is all a show to get your attention.”
“Even the vet said—”
Walker broke in, his voice calm and reasonable. “What did Gaby have to say, Shelton? What was her assessment?”
“She’s worried Ladybird may have nerve damage. Perhaps internal injuries. There’s something that keeps her from getting to her feet!” He glared at Hannah, daring her to contradict him.
“Then call her back out here,” Hannah taunted, “because your horse just made a miraculous recovery!”
Shelton slung his arm backward toward the stall. “You call that a recovery?”
Five feet of fury stormed up behind them. “What on earth is going on back here?” Jazz demanded. “I can hear you two from a mile away!”
They spoke at once, both adamant in their claim.
“Enough!”
Jazz was small, but her voice boomed with authority. The tiny blonde turned toward the substitute wrangler. “Shelton, has the vet been here today? Is there any change in the mare’s condition?”
“None.” His jaw worked with emotion.
She turned to the innkeeper. “In that case, Hannah, I have to agree with Mr. Long. I was here when the doctor first examined the horse, and I’ve examined her, myself. The poor mare is unable to stand. Her feed has remained untouched. We haven’t moved her yet, for fear of doing more damage, but this horse is obviously in no condition to do the things you claim.”
“I would expect as much from you!” Hannah spat.
Her contemptuous reply left Jazz nonplussed. “Then, it will come as no surprise to you that Mr. Long and I both hold you personally responsible for the injury and condition of this mare. Mr. Long, what would you say your horse was worth?”
“She’s not for sale!” he barked sharply. “But considering her fine bloodline, the three world champions she’s foaled, her past and potential purse earnings as a championship barrel racer in her own right, not to mention the future foals she may birth, I’d say in the upper range of $300,000.”
Hannah gasped aloud. Even Walker cleared his throat at the staggering figure.
“Of course, you can’t put a dollar value on sentimental value,” Shelton insisted.
“But you can certainly put a dollar amount on medical bills,” Jazz pitched in, her manner cool and professional. “Hannah, I imagine your insurance pays only the minimum level of care. Surely, you want better for this poor, suffering animal.”
“I don’t want her to be in pain,” Hannah agreed, wondering where this conversation was heading.
She soon found out. Jazz adopted her businesswoman persona again. No show jargon or slurring of words. Her tone was cool, clipped, and professional. “I’m glad your lawyer is present, because I have a proposition for you. It seems we are all faced with rather unusual and dire circumstances. Hannah, I know your heart was in the right place, trying to salvage the show, but your hasty actions put not only your contract in jeopardy, but also the integrity of this show, the safety of my crew, and, of course, Mr. Long’s poor, suffering animal. I—”
“Wait just a minute!” Walker broke in. “How did Hannah’s actions do any of that?”
“Why, she insisted on using Mr. Long’s horse, of co
urse. I was against it. I warned her that it was highly unusual, and that it wouldn’t be covered under my insurance policy, but she insisted she would be fully and financially responsible for the animal.”
With a frown, Hannah protested, “That wasn’t exactly the way it happened.”
“It’s the way I recall it,” Shelton said stubbornly.
“And I’m afraid I have to agree.”
No one noticed Pierce’s approach, until he spoke in Jazz’s defense. The petite blonde flashed him a grateful smile.
“You see? There were only the four of us present, and three of us agree on what actually happened. You, Hannah, insisted we use the horse. You threatened to shut us down if we didn’t agree to do things your way.”
Seething, Hannah heeded Walker’s silent warning to keep quiet.
“And you, Hannah,” she continued, “were riding the horse when you lost control and allowed the horse to wreak havoc on the set and consequently sustain serious injury. You assured Mr. Long that you were a skilled horsewoman and could adequately handle a high-spirited horse. However—”
“I did no such thing!” She turned to Shelton with a beseeching look. “Shelton, you know that’s not true. Tell them.”
“I can’t say I recall, either way,” he denied. “You said you could ride, and I believed you.”
“You told me your horse was a sweetheart!”
“She is.”
“Being your sweetheart doesn’t count!” she snapped. Eyes ablaze, Hannah turned to the one man she could trust. “This is all a set-up, Walker. And now she’s pulled Shelton into her scam. And Pierce, too.”
Walker put a hand on Hannah’s arm. Using the slightest amount of pressure, he silently urged her to trust him. “I believe you have a proposition for us, Ms. Dawson?” His tone was almost bored.
“As I’ve pointed out, Ms. Duncan is solely responsible for the unfortunate situation we find ourselves in. She’s already assumed full financial responsibility for our services, as well as the services and care for the injured animal. It will be a shame, really, to add the additional strain and cost of a lawsuit.”
“And what lawsuit is that?” From the deceptive note of calm in Walker’s voice, it was impossible to detect his full ire. Hannah, however, stood near enough to feel the tension radiating from the tight coils of his body.
“Why, the ones Mr. Long and Hats Off will both be filing, of course. I’ve already outlined the basis of our argument… reneging on the contract, jeopardizing the integrity of this show, risking the safety of my crew and equipment, and causing serious and quite possibly permanent damage to Mr. Long’s horse. Add to that the mental anguish we’ve all suffered and any lingering consequences resulting from this weekend, and we’ll be seeking somewhere in the neighborhood of four to eight million dollars. A piece, of course.”
Hannah paled visibly, but Walker never flinched. “I venture to guess you propose a settlement. Am I correct?”
Jazz smiled without humor. “It does seem the most logical thing, don’t you agree? It would save everyone a great deal of time, energy, and mental stress. And of course, it would save you, Hannah, a great deal of money.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“I would consider settling for one million dollars.”
“One million?” Hannah croaked.
Shelton was already shaking his head. “I would need more than that. I need adequate care for Ladybird. At least one point five.”
“Are you insane?” Hannah hissed. “Where do you think I would get that kind of money? You both have lost your minds!”
“I have a suggestion,” Pierce quietly pitched in.
“I just bet you do,” Hannah mumbled. “It was your bright idea to use Ladybird, in the first place.” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “That was all a set-up, too, wasn’t it?” she realized.
At least my first impression of him was correct. Cocky and way too self-assured. She found small comfort in the thought.
Pierce neither denied nor confirmed her claim. “I’m sure your uncle will be more than happy to save you from the stress and humiliation involved with a lawsuit. Imagine what something like that could do to your reputation, and the image you’re trying to establish for the inn. I know Joe would do anything to spare you that sort of pain.” He flashed his most charming smile. “I’ve seen your uncle win—and lose—that much during one poker game. He can afford it, Hannah.”
It suddenly became clear. “So, that’s what this is about,” Hannah said in understanding. “You saw a way to make a quick buck off my uncle and decided to use me as your bargaining tool.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Jazz’s manner remained cool. “I’m simply seeking compensation for damages you inflicted. How you pay is your concern.”
Hannah knew nothing could be further from the truth. “Something that strikes me odd,” she pointed out, “is your concern for Mr. Long’s horse, when it really has nothing to do with you.”
“Of course, it does! Not only did Ladybird’s injury have a direct and profound impact on the show, but it had an impact on our family. As I’ve told you before, we’re one big family here at Hats Off. Mr. Long and his horse are now part of that family, if only for a short while. When one of us is suffering, we all feel the pain.”
“Oddly enough,” Walker noted coolly, “the horse’s injury seems to have had a greater impact on you than the death of your crew member. Strange sense of family you have, Ms. Dawson.”
She stiffened immediately. “We are deeply saddened by Rusty’s passing.”
“Not to mention furious that the sheriff has detained you, insisting you not leave town,” Hannah put in.
“You know, speaking of that…” Walker reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. “This is for you, Ms. Dawson.”
“A check?” she asked hopefully.
“Not quite. It’s a bill.”
She frowned. “Whatever for?”
“Does your ‘vacate the premises’ clause ring a bell, Ms. Dawson?”
For the first time during the encounter, Jazz looked less than confident. “What about it?” she snapped.
Hannah turned to him with a question in her eyes.
“The reason I went back to the truck,” Walker told her. His dark eyes twinkled with mirth. “According to their own contract, they have to vacate the premises in ‘a fast and efficient exit.’ It’s a selling point, actually, so Jazz goes the extra mile and gives herself not only a strict deadline, but a self-imposed fine for not meeting it.” He made a show of consulting his wristwatch. “You have thirty-two minutes remaining, Ms. Dawson. Think you can have everything packed and gone in that time?”
“Of course not!’ she snapped. “The sheriff has ordered us to stay in place.”
“And as you may recall, if you remain on the premises in excess of twenty-four hours after the last performance, you must pay the venue twice their normal rental fee.”
“We have a rental fee?” Hannah squeaked in surprise. “For our pasture?”
“Actually,” he said, pulling another sheet from his pocket, “we do have a fee. I had to give it a monetary value, for insurance purposes. Remember, Jazz? You insisted we carry an insurance policy in case of inclement weather or other natural causes. And you asked me to list the property high, in case we had to rent an alternate location.”
Hannah gasped when she saw the number on the paper. “She’ll have to pay me double that amount?”
“Absolutely.”
“But we’re under sheriff’s order to remain! It’s out of our hands.”
“I thought you might say that, so I checked the contract. There were no exclusions and no allowances. If my calculations are correct, if you’re detained by two days, it should equal the full booking fee you’re demanding from my client. Factor in today’s late penalty, and any additional days it may take the sheriff to clear this matter up, and you could very well owe Hannah, rather than the other way a
round.”
Jazz did not take the news well, but to her credit, she didn’t make a scene. Her face underwent several color transformations, changing from an alarming shade of white to a sickly green, before tinting a bright, blotchy red. She seethed quietly for several moments, then took a deep breath and steeled herself for a new proposition.
“I could point out that since the contract is now null and void, we are no longer bound to the terms of agreement. However, I want to be fair.” Her smile was too stiff to be convincing. “I propose that we call it even. You don’t owe us for our services, and we don’t owe you for the rental. We’ll consider it a wash.”
Walker spoke before Hannah had the opportunity. “We’ll take your offer under consideration.”
“But—”
“There’s no rush, Hannah,” he reminded her. “We’ll consider the offer. In the meantime, let’s discuss the lawsuit.”
At the confident look in the attorney’s eyes—there was almost a smirk upon his face—Jazz was immediately on the defensive. “You can’t expect us to back down on that,” she demanded. “Mr. Long’s horse was seriously injured.”
“Yes, I believe you may have mentioned that a few dozen times.”
His tone was so cavalier, and so smug, even Hannah jerked his way. She was surprised to hear his callous concern for the injured animal. Her frown deepened when she saw the way his eyes darted to the horse’s pen, subtly urging her to follow his gaze.
Shelton, too, took offense at the comment. While the horse owner launched into a heated rant, Hannah sneaked a peek at the pen behind him. The mare still lay on her side, a sad and sorry sight to behold. It didn’t take an expert to see that the horse was in bad shape.
But it wasn’t the horse that widened Hannah’s eyes in surprise. It was the fact that the horse was no longer alone in the corral. Both Gouyen and Orlan Varela stood inside, peering down at the prone animal. While Hannah watched, Gouyen squatted down, legs spread wide, to bend over the mare’s head. The ghost’s hand floated two inches above the horse’s face, the tattered edges of her clothing superimposing over Ladybird’s ear.
To Hannah’s surprise, the horse’s ear twitched.
