Pippa's Rescue

by JJ Keller

  He’d thought the job would bring him up close and personal with Pippa, yet here he was scooping excretion into a wagon. Turning to Brooke, he forced a tight smile. “Noted.”

  Sweat-drenched hair and a blue jean shirt complete with pearl snaps stuck to her skin. Her exercise-induced red face made it difficult to determine if she blushed or not. Instinctively he flattered women, but he’d keep her age in mind.

  “We’ll put down fresh straw and then go empty this load into the recycling area.” She swiped a cloth-covered arm across her forehead. A sliver of straw stuck. “Did I tell you the stables are numbered one, two, and three according to how serious the horse comes in from an abusive environment? Gradually they go to stable three when they are ready to be adopted.”

  “Logical and sad.” He reached to remove the golden stick marring her forehead.

  “Aren’t you finished?” Pippa’s voice, sharp as the end of the sliver of straw, rang into the rafters.

  Basil dropped his hand, taking the filament of pungent straw with him.

  “Almost. We just need to lay down a fresh bed and then empty the wagon.” Brooke nodded to clean stalls and the wagon full of manure. Horse flies the size of his thumb buzzed over the load and formed a cloud.

  “Go. Get Mike to help,” Pippa said, staring into the distance. “Go,” she reiterated.

  Brooke took off running toward stable three.

  Pippa bent to pick up the shovel Brooke had dropped before her quick exit. “How are you doing?”

  “It’s going fine. I even thought of how aptly the stable is named.”

  Her puzzled glance suggested she questioned what his comment meant.

  He nodded to the wagon reeking with pungent poop. “Number two.”

  For a fraction of a second, a grin spread across her face before she hid behind a straight expression. “Yes, well part of the process of taking care of animals. Intake and output. I’m on my way to pick up a new addition to our family, almost two hours away near Greenfield. Do you want to see how we rescue a horse?”

  “Sure. I call shotgun.” He leaned the pitchfork against the wall.

  She laughed, short and sexy, twisting his gut into those strange knots again. “Sometimes you’re such a child.”

  He removed his leather gloves, tucked them into the band of his trousers, and touched her face. “Don’t mistake me, Phillipa, I’m all man.”

  Puffs of air shot from her mouth as she stared into his face. A soft blush colored her cheeks. The thin black jacket claiming Horse Rescue Ranch directly over her heart lifted and lowered with each deep breath.

  For a brief second her cheek rubbed against his newly calloused hand, but she quickly shot upright and licked her pink, shiny lips. She took a step back, until the stall wall stopped her. “Don’t mistake me for a fool. I don’t know where my brother is, so don’t try to romance the information from me.”

  He shoved his rejected hand into his jeans’ pocket. “I haven’t figured out how your mind works yet.”

  She drew away. “Nor will you. Come along. I’ve the trailer hitched and the motor’s running.”

  Taking a few long steps, she whirled around and strutted through the exit. Her sexy tight ass, illuminated by the light filtering through the open barn doors, mesmerized him. “My motor’s running too, honey, and I’m sure we can hitch a ride together,” he mumbled and followed.

  ****

  The sight wasn’t unusual, but nausea clogged Pippa’s throat all the same. A gray-and-white mottled horse, not bigger than twelve hands, quivered. A veterinarian sewed a gaping wound on the poor equine’s backside. Several older whip flicks had healed on his beautiful white nose, leaving behind sharp pink grooves. Other smaller gouges covered his back, but the wound on his hindquarters was the worst.

  “Hiya, Pip, I’m almost done.” The vet never broke his concentration. “This guy’s about three years old and appears as if most of those years have been under the whip or stick, but those are older. I’ve sedated him, so the travel should be calm. His wounds will heal, but I think you might want to keep him longer before putting him on the roster. He needs to learn to trust humans again.” Doc nodded his gray head. Lines formed on his sweet face as he finished tying off the thread.

  The smile he cast her was forced. Her friend hated animal abuse as much as she. Besides that, no doubt most of the community had seen the newspaper declaring her brother a suspect in several scam cases. Lenders had been beating at her door the past few weeks. Would people connect her financially poor state with her brother’s misdeeds and force smiles as if all was right with the world?

  “Sure. He’s welcome at our ranch for as long as possible.” She shut her mouth. Unbelievable. She’d let a statement hinting of financial trouble get into the public forum.

  He glanced behind her and obviously finding the way clear, said, “Heard about Dave. Anything I can do to help?”

  Tears welled as she shook her head. “I’ll manage. Thanks.” She nodded toward the horse. “Did you get enough evidence to put the assaulter away?”

  He winked. “You know it. I’ll do my best to help him get years of prison time. Hopefully, we’ll have a break and some of these two-legged monsters will not be allowed to own animals.”

  Pippa nodded, all she could do because heartache closed her throat. The torture this poor horse had to endure. Doc Palmer gathered his tools and black bag. He passed behind her and touched her arm in a reassuring manner.

  “What’s his name?” Croaked words came from deep down. She had to shake off the moroseness and thank a higher power that the man responsible had been caught.

  “Don’t know. There weren’t any papers.” He tipped his head toward Basil, standing to her right. “New guy?”

  She nodded. Basil must have picked up on her anxiety and inability to carry on a conversation because he stepped forward and extended a hand. “Basil Vanguard, new volunteer for Horse Rescue Ranch.”

  Doc gave his hand a shake. “Doctor Mark Palmer. What branch?”

  Basil’s chin went up. “Marines.”

  Doc’s shoulders slid back. “Army. I’m glad you’re here to help this little lady. She’s a treasure.”

  “It’s nice to meet you. I agree, she’s special.” Basil turned to untie the reins from the hitching post.

  “I’ll leave his treatment plan in the cab of your truck. Call me if you need anything at all.” Doc stared at her, as if indicating he’d do whatever he could to help her out of a situation he knew little about. That was the kind of bond she’d been fortunate enough to garner over the past few years. Law enforcement, veterinarians, and rescue workers all banded together to get help for unfortunate animals being mistreated. And friends supported friends.

  Basil clacked. Seconds passed until the docile steed clopped forward. At the edge of the horse trailer he stopped, refusing to go inside.

  “Timidity is not unusual for traumatized horses— and reluctance to go into a closed dark space. Let me.” Pippa took the reins and dropped them on the ground. Just as Basil had done to her earlier, she gently cupped the horse’s face. He lurched, but at her murmuring he stopped. She dropped her voice to an even monotone whisper. “I don’t know what your name is, but I think I’ll call you Titan. He was an Italian painter, you know, who used various colors to create beautiful works of art. Your hide has been changed, but I see beauty in the pink, white, gray, and purple. You’ll have a new life if you travel to my ranch. We’ll treat you with care and give you love.”

  Titan’s eyes stopped rolling. He blew out a long breath and placed his snout on her shoulder. Pippa carefully lowered her hands to his neck, searching for any injuries. Trust blossomed quickly between her and horses from all walks of life. Folks around the county claimed she was a horse whisperer, but she could simply communicate with equines, injured or not. As trust developed, the horses relied on her to take care of them as promised. She would do whatever it took to remain true to her word, which meant she had to find her scandalous
brother and make him sign the ranch over to her.

  “You okay?” Basil asked. His voice stayed low and steady, as reassuring as a priest in the confessional box.

  “I get emotional at things like this. Ready to go?” She bent to pick up the reins. Slow steps brought them up the ramp and onto the rubber mat. Within seconds she had him safe and secure inside, with a window open to allow airflow. Outside again, she helped to unlatch the ramp and shut the doors.

  “Thanks,” she whispered and walked to the driver’s side of the truck before he could see her tears.

  Strong arms wrapped around her, crushing her chest to his. “You need a hug. Now, be a good girl and wipe those tears. You’re doing a good thing here, helping this horse.”

  As much as she wanted to remain in Basil’s arms, in a comfortable secure place, she had to get the horse home before his sedative wore off. “Thank you.” She blinked several times. “We need to roll.”

  A rough fingertip with jagged edges, brushed a tear from her cheek. She inhaled, feeling more than tender commiseration. He slowly moved his hands along her sides, sliding them gentle like. “Are you and the dude, banker-boy, an item?”

  His question couldn’t have surprised her more. Did he feel the vibrations between them too? No, he wanted information about her brother. “Thanks for the support.” She stepped back and patted his chest. “I’m not in a relationship with anyone, nor do I have time for one. Granted, I’m hot—”

  “You are indeed.”

  “Pip, here’s his treatment plan. You should probably get on the road, as his meds will be wearing off in a couple of hours.”

  Instead of jumping back a few feet, Basil wrapped his arm around her waist, like a caveman staking a claim. She stiffened in his embrace. Well, she’d set him straight. She shoved his hand, but it didn’t budge. “Yep. Thanks, Doc. I’ll see you in a few days for follow-up?”

  “You betcha. Will Mattie be around?” His gray eyes had a slight shimmer. The man was either interested in her friend or laughing at the odd predicament. She hoped not the latter.

  Pippa smiled and shoved Basil’s arm away. “Yes. I’ll make sure of it.” She leaned into Doc and whispered, “A bouquet of flowers might be a nice touch with Mattie.”

  “Yep, thanks for the tip.” Doc opened the truck cab door.

  Pippa climbed behind the steering wheel, then gave Doc a wave and started the engine. A flutter of horse flies buzzed in her stomach and she attempted to calm them. A strange attraction for the Marine took up most of the space inside the cab. The oncoming negative publicity coming down the pike would restrict her time or energy for an affair. She inhaled, taking in Basil’s spicy cologne. Damn, attraction was a beast.

  Chapter 4

  Recessed lights illuminated the room. Plastic clinked against wood slats as Pippa closed off the outside world. Basil scanned his nemesis’s bedroom, wanting nothing more than to be alone so he could snoop. The decor was simple: gray, black, red, and white. Full dark colors and heavy metal furniture created an obvious hetero complex. Basil’s sister would claim the décor was a stable masculine blend of hues and materials in a contemporary urban-style. He didn’t buy into the style when she wanted to redo his house. As temporary quarters, and to be near Pippa, he could tolerate the dreariness.

  Pippa smoothed the black comforter. “I’m glad you agreed to stay. It’s late, so tomorrow you can move your stuff from the hotel. Just think; you’ll save twenty minutes in drive time.”

  “I appreciate your consideration.” Being in his arch-enemy’s bedroom renewed his ripe anger toward the man who surely took his friend’s life. Basil abhorred male chauvinism. His stomach turned at the thought Wilson used his sister and her philanthropy to launder money.

  She paced as if he kept her from an appointment. It was nine p.m., not late, but since her day started at five a.m. he thought she’d be ready to call it a night. On the long drive home and in the barn as they got Titan settled into a stall, he’d fantasized about snuggling with Pippa on the sofa, maybe necking a little as they discussed the horse. What the hell was wrong with him? He had to focus on finding Harry. Why did he imagine a future with his enemy’s sister?

  Because she provided light in his dark world.

  “Sure. Why not have you close if you’re going to be shoveling, ah”—she paused and gave a low laugh—“in stable two tomorrow.”

  “Thanks. That’s what I was hoping for. Want to get a little nightcap and talk about Titan?” If the horse didn’t drag her attention away from the large numerated clock, nothing would.

  “Sorry, can’t. I’m late. I’ve an appointment.” She glanced at the clock. The second hand ticked away, clouding the room with gloom.

  “I see. Well, I’ll get my stuff from the Jeep and settle in.” He didn’t need to gather his things from the hotel, as a Special Forces op he traveled light. Only necessary items were carted and always on hand. The hotel had given him a key card, so he’d call, cancel the room, and return the key card tomorrow.

  “Yep. Thanks again for…today.” She pulled in her lips, pressed her teeth to the lower one, and ran through the door.

  Double French doors led to a patio. He’d walk around to the front to get his gear, traipsing past Miss Sneaky’s room in the process. Either Pippa had a hot date or perhaps she was meeting with her brother. Basil glanced at the terrain and the lighting around the house as his feet covered the distance. Unlikely she was with the banker-boy. She appeared to be standoffish yesterday with the guy and the way she dovetailed him a few hours ago meant Phillipa Wilson might be into Basil Vanguard. He surveyed the trees, evaluating how effective they would be in hiding an intruder. The security lamps around the perimeter of the house would match a high-security parking lot. Drapes in her room had been shut, no inside lights glowed. Time to move.

  After gathering his satchel from the trunk of the rental car, he entered the front door, latching the lock behind him.

  He stashed his limited apparel and hygiene products in the bedroom and waited. Tuning into the sounds of the house, the volume on the television ceased and a door creaked. Pippa was on the move. He went into the great room and stood behind a square pillar, large enough to hide his profile. Murmurs and hisses of air rippled through space, but he couldn’t place her location. He kept to the shadows and crept closer to the faint noise.

  Something changed. Her voice rang clear in the silence. “There’s a lot of static, let me go outside.”

  Pippa rushed to the rear of the house. She turned her head toward his suite as if ensuring that he was safely behind closed doors, then unlatched the lock at the gathering room exit and walked onto the patio, firmly shutting the door behind her.

  Basil ran to his temporary bedroom and turned on the stereo, turning the music loud enough so Pippa would think him inside. He slunk out the front door and to the side until he reached the metal television tower and climbed. On the roof, he scurried over the high ridge of the house and onto the other side and crab-crawled along the cold hard surface of the grainy shingles until he got within earshot of her.

  “I understand, but you must listen to me. I’ve been trying to reach you for a month.”

  Although her face wasn’t visible, her anxious voice came through clear and heart-wrenching. More than likely her brother was on the other end. It would be easy enough to have the call traced, if he could get a message to his CIA contact.

  “I need to have a clue. My home is going to be taken from me in less than fourteen days if I don’t get the ownership switched to be in my name. I understand you don’t feel a connection to me, but we all shared a mother. Please help me.”

  A moment of silence passed. He leaned closer to the edge.

  “I’m not one to prostitute myself to gain favors and or money.” Her voice rose. “No, I didn’t mean to insinuate you were.” She hesitated. “I just need to know where he is.”

  Ah, so it wasn’t the brother on the other end, but the sister who had no record of existing. The
bank was calling in a loan and Pippa felt the pressure to find her brother as well. She walked from the under hang and into the glow of the security lights. With one hand she held her long ponytail from her neck. “Could you scan it?”

  The thick length of black hair fell onto her shoulders and she stood straight.

  Basil wished he could hear the other side of the conversation, but then decided some intel was better than none.

  “Fine. What does it say?” She glanced to the right, pivoted, and looked into the house. Had he made a noise? He was as excited as she, so he could have breathed a sigh. No, he was a professional. Perhaps something else drew her attention.

  “Are you sure it says Montana?” Joy rippled through her tone. “No reference to state?” The squeal of a door being opened made him flatten to the rough uneven surface.

  “When? Thank you. No, I’ll let you know if I find him.” By the length of the silence, the phone call ended. The clatter of footsteps, then a loud firm click as the door shut behind Pippa. Conversation over.

  Basil rolled onto his back and stared at the stars. Montana must be a code word she shared with Wilson or she wouldn’t have asked about the state. Was the mysterious undocumented sister on the other end of the phone call? Could each family member be a party to Wilson’s nefarious ways? His heart pattered a quick beat against his chest. He’d so wanted Pippa not to be a part of Wilson’s illegal dealings.

  ****

  Pippa quietly entered the stable. Basil was filling a trough with a pungent, fresh mixture of barley, oats, and hay. Brooke stood in the stall beside him. She held a brush, but didn’t appear to be using it. Instead, she seemed to be simply admiring the view.

  Basil paused and wiped a bead of sweat from his neck. “Where do we get the food for these beasts?”

  She stayed to the shadows, but got an impression he knew she was there. A strange connection existed between them and she didn’t want to pursue it—or did she?

  He didn’t look up when she accidently tapped the wall. Basil would stay focused on finding her brother because that was the Marine way—Semper Fidelis. David had deviated from good to bad, but what had prompted the change? She rubbed her forehead as a new thought occurred. Had her cause put too much strain on him, driving him to illegal measures to get money to keep the ranch going? She pushed that idea aside. Her brother had never been interested in the ranch or the horses. Apparently the Marine Corps took second place to David’s love of money.