“Good morning, Jessi.” Laura smiled, swinging out and striding over to the fence. “Beautiful day. Lovely beginning to the fall, isn’t it?”
“It surely is.” Jessi freed the gelding and walked over to join the woman. “Hard to believe it’s September already. The summer flew.”
“Yes, well, for some of us.” Laura Turner looked down at her boots, and Jessi was immediately sorry for what she’d said. It must have been a long three months for the Turners, traveling first to the hospital to visit Ross and then to the rehab center where he’d spent several weeks.
“Sorry, Laura. I know it’s been a difficult time for you and your family. How is Ross doing?”
“Physically a good deal better, his doctor told me.” She paused and gripped the top rail of the fence in both hands. “Mentally and emotionally…”
“I’m sorry to hear it. Is there anything we can do to help? Mom, Dad, or myself? You know we’re only too willing…”
“As a matter of fact, that’s why I’m here.” She looked squarely at Jessi. “Jess, I’d like you to use your healing skills to help Ross.”
“My healing skills?” The woman’s words caught Jessi completely off guard. “I work with horses, not people.”
“But you identify with both. You’ve often told me you’ve seen problems as being with the rider, not the horse. That’s what Ross needs right now. Someone who understands the relationship between animals and human beings and how to deal with the situation when things go wrong between them.”
“Laura…”
“Jessi, I know how busy you are here at the ranch and, believe me, I wouldn’t ask if I weren’t desperate. Ross took off for New Brunswick to live in an old farmhouse that belongs to Bob’s family. No one has lived in it for years. I can’t imagine its present condition. Ross is determined to hermit himself away, to give up on life.”
“But why? Lots of rodeo cowboys heal up and go back at it, maybe not bull riding, but…”
“The doctors have told him he’ll never do that kind of strenuous riding again. They’ve told him he has to retire from the ring or his next fall will cripple him for life.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, oh. Jessi, I’m afraid for Ross, afraid of what will become of him if he doesn’t wake up and realize there’s life after bull riding. You’ve made horses recover from accidents. I remember what you did for our stallion, the Grey Gent, after he got onto the road and was struck by a truck. Work your magic on Ross.”
“Laura, the Grey Gent is a horse. Ross is a human being.”
“But you brought the Gent back to life, Jessi. That beautiful animal would have withered away in a corner of the pasture if you hadn’t managed to revive his confidence and courage. That’s what Ross needs right now—someone to get him back on his feet, to convince him there’s more to life than being a rodeo superstar.”
The pleading in Laura Turner’s blue eyes caught at Jessi’s heart. The woman was her mother’s best friend. If the tables were turned, Joan Wallace would have expected Ross to try to help Jessi.
“It will be roundup time in October.” She tried a feeble protest. “Mom and Dad need every rider they can get…”
“I’ll send over as many men as they need.” She stood looking the young woman squarely in the face. “Jessi…” Her tone softened. “I know what happened between you and Clint Harrison. Maybe getting away for a while…”
Oh, God, does everyone know what a fool the man made of me, of our relationship?
“Over and done with.” She struggled to sound casual. “But how did you hear about it? I only told Mom and Dad, and they haven’t been spreading the news. Has Clint been shooting off his mouth?” Annoyance darkened the last sentence.
“Not that I’m aware. I know only because Bob asked your dad when the wedding was to be…before or after roundup…so we could make plans. Bob said that, from your father’s response, he wouldn’t want to be Clint Harrison—or if he was, he wouldn’t come within a hundred miles of Jack Wallace.”
“Yes, well, Dad can be a tad protective.” She forced a weak grin. “Give me a few days, Laura. I’ll talk to Mom and Dad and let you know.”
****
Jessi stepped out onto the verandah of her parents’ ranch house and drew in a deep breath of late summer morning air. The sun, peeking over the foothills, bathed the shorn hayfields in its light, turning the gravel road that led toward town into a blinding yellow glare.
Good morning for a gallop.
But that would have to wait. She went down the steps and headed for the barn. There was work to do. She had horses to feed and train, stalls to muck out, and hopefully some time left to help her parents with their ranch work. Always lots to do, always lots to, mostly, keep her from thinking about Clint Harrison and ignoring his barrage of calls and texts. She’d been relieved a couple of days earlier when they’d suddenly, finally, stopped.
She entered the barn and paused at Badger’s stall to rub the nose he thrust out at her.
“Good morning, boy.” She grinned. “Always up with the crows, aren’t you?”
“I was up way before that.” Something jumped in her chest as she whirled to find Clint Harrison entering the barn, grinning at her. “I’ve been waitin’ out by the round pen for near an hour.”
“Clint! What are you doing here?” Surprised to see him, she gasped out the words.
“You weren’t answering my texts or calls.” He reached to take her into his arms, but she dodged away. “So I decided to stop by. Come on, baby, don’t be like that.” He tried to embrace her again, but she shrugged him off. “You’re not going to let a little harmless fun with Ginny Morgan ruin what we had.”
“A little harmless fun! Is that what you call it?” Coming out of the shock of seeing him, Jessi went into fighting mode. “Clint, we were engaged to be married. I’d say that made our relationship exclusive. Apparently you didn’t see it that way.” Her initial outrage at his appearance cooling to cold, hard bitterness, she faced him, hands on her hips. “Actually, I’m glad it happened.” She narrowed her eyes and felt the planes of her face tightening as she continued. “It saved me from being tied up with a man with all the moral fiber of a tomcat.”
“Jessi, come on. Do you think Ginny Morgan could be seriously interested in a rodeo cowboy? Hell, she’s a multi-millionaire’s daughter. Matter of fact, she got herself engaged to a guy from Texas last month…oil, cattle, you name it, he’s into it.”
“Oh, so I was the best you thought you could do financially?” His words whipped like a high wind onto her ire. “Those cowboys I overheard talking in the restaurant were right. I was just a ticket to a comfortable future.”
“Damn it, Jess, I don’t know what you heard while you were eavesdropping, but…”
“I wasn’t eavesdropping! I have more integrity than to be guilty of that deviousness.”
“Now, look here, honey. We had a good thing goin’. Come here and let me remind you.” This time a quick move gave him success in grabbing her.
“Let me go, Clint!” She struggled in his powerful grasp.
“Yes, let her go.” The bronc rider’s hands released her as he swung to face the steely grim face of Jack Wallace. The big man advanced toward the couple, a powerful dark silhouette with sunlight at his back.
“Jack! Good to see you, man.” Clint instantly became the affable good ol’ boy as he advanced toward Jessi’s father, hand extended. “Just dropped by to see my girl.”
“Well, now you’ve seen my girl, so you’d better be going.” In his youth, Jack Wallace had been a bulldogger at rodeos, an event that saw the biggest, most powerful men compete. He’d lost little of that stature over the years. Now he was a commanding presence that even a man like Clint Harrison wasn’t eager to challenge.
“No need.” Clint kept up the farce even as the other man refused his hand and he had to let it drop back to his side. “I have a couple of days off. I thought I’d hang my hat here and help out around the place. Go
od to get familiar with it. After Jessi and I are married…”
“They’ll be having snowball fights in hell by the time that happens, if I have anything to say about it.” Jack Wallace stepped closer to him. “Now get, before I decide to boot your sorry behind so hard you’ll land in the good old U.S. of A.”
During the confrontation, Clint had swung around so that his back was to Badger’s stall. As if on cue, the old gelding lunged out with his snout and rammed the man in the back. He was plummeted into Jack Wallace’s wide chest, then seized by big hands and expelled from the barn so forcefully he fell to his knees, Stetson flying from his head.
“I see you parked your truck down the road a ways.” Jack Wallace followed him to the doorway. “Get your ass into it and the hell off my property.”
“Okay, okay, Jack.” Clint Harrison stumbled to his feet, grabbing up his Stetson. He banged it against his dusty jeans before slapping it back onto his head. “But you haven’t seen the last of me, not by a long shot. Jessi loves me. Once she’s had time to come to her senses, she’ll be glad to hook up with me again.”
Limping, he headed down the road out of the ranch yard toward his truck that Jessi hadn’t noticed in the glare of the rising sun.
“Thanks, Dad.” Jessi came to stand by her father and watch the man leave.
“Not a problem, honey.” Jack Wallace put an arm about his daughter’s slim shoulders and gave her a squeeze. He grinned down at her. “Now that we’ve got rid of one pile of manure, I think it’s time we tackled some more honest stuff.” He released her and handed her a pitchfork.
As Jessi Wallace began to muck out a stall, she came to a decision. She paused, pulled out her cell and made the call. She didn’t want to chance another encounter with Clint Harrison, one when her father wasn’t around.
“Laura? Jessi here. I’ve decided to go to New Brunswick.”
“Jessi, that’s wonderful!” Laura Turner’s delight at her acceptance bubbled over the phone. “And more good news. Bob tells me there’s a horse-breeding facility and riding school not far from the farm. It’s run by a Dr. Shelby Masters, a veterinarian. I’m thinking you might want to get in contact with her…just so you won’t feel isolated with Ross in his present depressed mood. I’ve heard good things about this woman and her work with horses. Maybe you two can team up. At the very least, you’ll be able to borrow one of her animals and go riding.”
“So you’ve already scouted out the territory for me?” Jessi couldn’t stop the small grin starting at the corners of her mouth. “You must have been pretty confident I’d eventually cave and go.”
“I must admit I was.” The woman’s tone softened. “You’re a good woman, Jessi Wallace. I’ve never seen you turn down any animal…or person…in need. Most sincerely, thank you.”
What have I gotten myself into? As Jessi accepted the woman’s gratitude, misgivings flooded through her. Offering to help the rock star of rodeo get his groove back. I have to be crazy…and desperate to get away.
****
“You did the right thing, honey.” Joan Wallace sat across the kitchen table from her daughter in the century-old ranch house kitchen. “You remember that winter when you were ten and your dad got hurt? Bob and his sons drove over every morning to help. Fifty miles is a considerable distance on these roads in January.”
“I remember.” Jessi stared down into her coffee cup. “But, Mom, I don’t see how I can help Ross if doctors weren’t able to. He needs a physiotherapist or a psychologist, or maybe both. I deal with injured and traumatized horses.”
“We’re all God’s creatures.” Joan stood and went to the counter to replenish her cup. “Misgivings and lost confidence are common to all of us. Do what you’d normally do to restore an ailing spirit. Follow your instincts. You’ll be fine. And furthermore…”
“Furthermore what, Mom?” Jessi looked sharply over at her mother.
“Furthermore, the rodeo circuit will be wrapping up soon.” She didn’t have to continue. Jessi caught her drift.
“And you assume Clint will be back…again and again?”
“Well, honey, of all the things Clint might be, he’s no quitter. I don’t for a minute believe he’s going to give you up easily.”
“I’ll start packing.”
****
Two days later Jessi Wallace sat on a flight headed for Moncton, New Brunswick. It had been a prolonged journey, with a major layover in Montreal that would make her arrival in the Maritime province late evening. And then, according to Bob Turner’s best recollection of a visit to the farm years ago, it was a three-hour drive to the old homestead. So she’d be driving through strange country in darkness. Great.
She opened the equine magazine she’d bought to read during the flight, but found herself distracted. Her thoughts kept going to the man she was being sent to help.
It seemed incredible to her that the Ross Turner she knew, albeit mainly by reputation these past few years, had become an embittered recluse. When she’d known him ten years ago, he’d been a good-natured, fun-loving, devil-may-care type. Later, when he’d joined the rodeo circuit and become a successful bull rider, she recalled seeing photos of him winning the event in various newspapers and western magazines. He’d always been good-looking, but over the years, unless those pictures lied, he’d become one handsome hunk, suitable for the cover of a romance novel. This fact, combined with a charismatic personality she’d heard him demonstrate on various television interviews, had earned him the moniker “the rock star of rodeo.”
Now she, Jessi Wallace, rancher’s daughter and horse trainer, had been called in to help the man. And from what his mother had indicated, it was the last thing Ross Turner wanted. Incredible!
“Please fasten your seatbelts,” announced the flight attendant’s voice over the PA system. “We’re heading into minor turbulence.”
With a sigh, Jessi moved to comply.
I’m probably heading into major turbulence…at ground level. If Ross Turner is determined to become a recluse, I’ll be about as welcome as a burr under a saddle.
****
That must be Rogersville up ahead. Good lord, what a terrible night!
Through rain and fog, Jessi Wallace saw the lights of a settlement come into view. The number of miles she’d driven from the Moncton Airport indicated on her GPS that she should be entering the small, rural community. The long, dark stretch of highway she’d been traveling had given little evidence of human habitation aside from a few lights beaming out from well-spaced houses along the road. Not normally one to give in to trepidations, Jessi Wallace was nevertheless thousands of miles from her home and alone in the stormy night.
Better gas up. According to these directions I’m still at least fifty miles from Carleton, the nearest town to Ross’s family farm. Then, if the directions Bob and Laura gave me are right on, it’s another fifteen miles or so out along the coast.
Having no desire to get stranded in the inhospitable night, she pulled into a gas bar that offered full service. A man wearing a sou’wester dashed out to greet her.
“Fill it up, please,” she called through a window she’d cracked enough to speak to the attendant.
“Sure thing.”
She sat and waited while he filled the tank, then rolled the window far enough to accept the debit machine he held out to her.
“Goin’ far?” he asked as she inserted the card and punched in her code.
“Far enough. To Carleton and about fifteen miles down the coast beyond.”
“Not the night for that, miss.” The middle-aged face trimmed with gray stubble frowned down at her. “Hear they’re gettin’ a whale of a storm up that way. Tail end of a hurricane that blew up the coast. We get a fair bunch of them this time of year.”
“Thanks for the information. I’ll manage.” She retrieved her card, smiled at him, and rolled up her window.
Just what I need. A hurricane.
Thank goodness she’d had the foresight to rent a fou
r-wheel-drive Jeep at the airport. Even if the road leading to Ross’s remote farmhouse was a sea of mud, it should make it through.
Jessi adjusted her hands on the steering wheel and told herself again she’d had no choice about making this trip.
“Make him want to live again, Jessi.” His mother’s last words to her echoed in her head as she drove down the lonely stretch of New Brunswick highway. “If anyone can, it’s you. I’ve seen you with horses. You’ve got a gift for reviving the joie de vivre. Who knows?” she’d continued, her words brightening with hopeful innuendo. “You might even get to like each other. It can be very romantic along New Brunswick’s northeast coast.”
A smirk jerked up one corner of her mouth. There was no power on earth that could make her get interested in Ross Turner on a personal level. Handsome rodeo cowboys wouldn’t be on her radar for a very long time…if ever. There wasn’t a New Brunswick beachfront romantic enough to make her fall for another one of those types.
For the next hour she drove through what seemed like an endless tunnel of rain-slickened asphalt and night-blackened forest. She could easily have counted the few vehicles she encountered.
When a roadside sign informed her Carleton, the town nearest the Turner farm, was ten kilometers ahead, she heaved a sigh. Shortly, multiple lights brightening the night told her she was entering the community. arHa After fighting this tropical-type downpour and buffeting wind, she’d be glad to reach her destination no matter how Ross Turner chose to welcome her. “Any port in a storm” flashed across her mind.
****
She stopped at a take-out restaurant in Carleton and ran inside, head ducked against the driving wind and rain. Laura had given her directions from the town to the farm, but she wanted to confirm them with some of the locals. Ross’s mother had never been to New Brunswick.
“Hi, I’m looking for directions to the Turner farm.” She smiled at the young girl behind the cash register. “It’s out along the coast road.”
She looked blankly at Jessi. “Sorry. Never heard of it.”
Cowboy Confessions Page 3
