Pippa's Rescue

by JJ Keller

  Laughter bubbled, shaking her chest. She stifled the jollies. In order to get him to trust horses, enough to mount one, she’d need to remain calm. “Okay, so you’ve never ridden a real horse?”

  He shook his head. “Don’t need too. I rode a camel. Can’t say I cared for it.”

  “Different beasts. How about a short ride?” She grabbed his arm and guided him to the entrance. Deep South and the man who made her rarely used parts tingle followed. “See that pond about two miles away?”

  He stared into the distance. “Kind of.”

  “If you ride that sweet docile filly tied to the fence over there, I’ll give you a favor.”

  His expression brightened. “My pick on the favor?”

  She couldn’t imagine what he’d want, except— “You won’t have to clean stable two for the rest of the week.”

  Basil turned into her, swiped at a loose strand of her hair, taking the tickling away. “Although tempting, no. I want a kiss. Not like a child kisses her mum. A deep, long lasting one. A lip-lock with tongue that will guarantee satisfaction.”

  Pippa glanced at the pond; it wasn’t that far away, he could make it. Part of her, the tingling parts wanted him to take the bet and win. She turned and leveled her gaze with his dreamy ambers. “All right. There and back.”

  Deep South nudged her. She reached around and rubbed his neck without losing eye contact with Basil.

  “Great. It’ll just be the two of us. Pippa and Basil on two mammals.” His odd comment was made even stranger by his determined strut toward the filly.

  Chapter 6

  Skogul’s laugh echoed across the yard, turning a few heads of stock gathered in the corral waiting for food. She glanced at Basil, who switched his gaze from the stock to the daisy—Pippa. He dared to tell her, a powerful Valkyrie, to stay away while they ride off into the sun.

  As if! So far Skogul hadn’t seen Pippa’s positive aspects, other than she got Basil hot and bothered.

  Cloaked from human sight, Skogul could go anywhere she wanted and immediately strolled between the two humans. She certainly didn’t care to see him kissing the harridan, but that darn sense of obligation to fulfill her mission tied her to this place. “Don’t worry, I won’t go with you. What exactly do they do at this place?” she whispered into Basil’s ear.

  He rubbed his head, as if deciding how to answer without others thinking him wacko.

  She chuckled. He’d figure it out. “Yeah, buddy, I’m a pest. I’m here to stay, so get used to me.”

  “How long ago was the filly rescued from an abusive owner?” Basil asked Phillipa.

  “Two months ago.” Phillipa grinned as her horse nudged her backside.

  Skogul scanned Phillipa from head to toe. Suddenly she became more likeable. “So you’re saying this woman rescues and cares for horses, hurt by their owners, using her own funds?”

  “Yes. She looks more comfortable than the stallion we brought in a few days ago.” He glanced at Skogul. “How many horses have you saved from a horrible, painful death?”

  Skogul sucked in a breath. Someone who would spend all of her resources to help equines was a person to be honored. Definitely worth admiration, even if the earthbound horses couldn’t fly.

  A frown appeared on Pippa’s face. Thinking before answering must be a strong part of her character. “Over the years about one hundred; not all of them survived though. We’ve placed most of the mended in good homes. Come along, I’ve a full schedule.” Her dark-brown steed followed on her heels as she walked toward the little pale horse tied to a rail.

  “Stay.” Basil’s low tone brought the giggle up again, until he snarled at her.

  What insolence! She pursed her lips. “As if I wanted to go with you. I don’t!”

  “Great,” he said with the typical sarcasm in his tone.

  Skogul turned toward the main building. She shouldn’t spend her time watching television and investigating the ranch, but she couldn’t resist. Earth fascinated her, and the likelihood she’d be missed, minimal. Odin didn’t put a time line on bringing the Marine to Valhalla, but Göndul expected promptness.

  She squared her shoulders. The decision to force Basil to come or suffer the consequences riddled her. Eventually she’d have to tell him Harry was in Asgard, which would tilt him in her favor. In the meantime his efforts of getting information from Pippa were too entertaining. Almost like a sad romantic movie playing out before her. A live version of The Empire Strikes Back.

  Skogul leaned against the barn wall, tapping her chin, contemplating how she could spin this tale to Göndul, so she could have a few more legit days on Earth. Right. She straightened at the realization. She’d send a missive to her superior declaring she needed to confirm Basil’s integrity and value before proceeding.

  Confident with her valid explanation, she sang a tune and pranced toward stable one. The newest horse they talked about would be in the stable closest to the office in case he needed immediate assistance. Surely she’d interpreted their conversation incorrectly. Humans couldn’t be so heartless to subject gentle, kind, intelligent animals to torture and injury. She’d find out for herself.

  Two people stood in the barn; one girl barely past puberty held a bucket near a guy. He bent over a hoof cupped in his hand. The color of his exposed neck and arms reminded her of the large creamy fish in Pippa’s little pond in the backyard. His broad shoulders filled most of the space. The rest of him was hidden behind the horse and the infant.

  “Dr. Hall, when will we finish?” The girl swiped a long ponytail to fall between her narrow shoulder blades. The chick didn’t work out with javelins or swords. If she bent forward most of her considerably sized breasts would be exposed. She was obviously a serving wench and not of any value.

  “A few more minutes, Brooke. Lower that bucket a little.” Metal clanked as something dropped inside the tin. He crouched closer to the steed’s flank.

  “It’s just…I’m supposed to be helping Brandon. He’ll leave in a few minutes.” Brooke’s voice held a whine.

  Skogul slid past the infant, flipping the girl’s ponytail, as she walked to the front of the stall. The baby didn’t budge. Wasn’t the wench curious as to why her hair moved, yet no breeze entered the stall?

  She stepped around the small horse. Slashes marked his nose and chest. At various stages of healing, they appeared white, gray, and pink. Anger grew inside her at the mistreatment this poor creature endured. She winced at the sight of his callused knees. As if he’d been forced to the ground. Her heart hurt. Not since the death of her father had pain jetted through her body like a bad beating during training. Humans were no more than crass, barbaric Neanderthals.

  Swallowing the lump in her throat, she glanced along the equine’s side bringing her gaze level with Dr. Hall. Her glance met his. Could he see her? Skogul shot her glance to the infant, who showed no signs of seeing a stranger in the stall. Did her Valkyrie powers, to camouflage her appearance, not work with every human? She kept her gaze locked on the man. He smiled and for the second time in seconds her heart hurt. He had ordinary facial features, not broad, not thin. His nose, just the right size, separated his prominent cheeks. His eyes were gray, the color of polished silver. His hair looked soft, reminding her of turned soil on the mountain range of Asgard, deep reddish brown that reached his broad neck.

  Dr. Hall stood from his crouched position. “I think Titan’s had enough for one day, Brooke. Thank you for your help.”

  “Sure.” The bucket clanked on the floor as she fled.

  “Who are you? Why are you dressed in a dominatrix outfit at midday?” He snatched her hand from her side and led her from the stall. Uncomfortable with the quick movement, Titan shifted from side to side.

  Confused, she had no choice but to follow the man. “You can see me?”

  “Obviously.” He acted put out that she’d even asked.

  What was dominatrix? Was there something wrong with her outfit? It was serviceable. Black wasn’t her
favorite color, but the leather protected her skin. The boots were low-heeled, bringing her to the same height as this tall human. Wait, the way he said the word, dominatrix, had a slur attached. The man didn’t like her.

  She furrowed her eyebrows. “What kind of name is Doctor?”

  “It’s not a name, but my title. I’m a veterinarian helping Doc with his rounds. He’s thinking of retiring, and I might be interested in taking over his practice.” His fingers caressed her palm. Maybe dominatrix wasn’t a slur. “Tell me. Why are you here?”

  “I’m a friend of Pippa’s,” she lied. Göndul was going to be pissed. Could only certain people get a visual on her? Why? Pippa and the infant couldn’t see her. Skogul wanted only Basil to view her. It still didn’t explain why the veterinarian saw her?

  He squeezed her shoulder. “Miss, are you all right?”

  She shot her gaze to him. His gorgeous silver eyes held concern. Her weakness, silver, and a sensitive man all wrapped in a tight, mighty form. “Yes. Sorry, I was reviewing my options of what to do today. My name is Skogul.”

  “Nice to meet you, Skogul. I’m Aidan. Aidan Hall.”

  “Little fire, represented in art as a stag,” she spilled before thinking.

  “Ah, I’m sorry I don’t understand.”

  “I’ve a thing for names. Their derivatives and meanings. Aidan is Gaelic and also related to a famous Irish monk who created a monastery on the island of Lindisfarne. Education was important to him.” His intense bedroom-sexy stare made her flush, heating more than her core. She had to stop watching television. The movies were corrupting her, making her more aware of humans and how they reacted to environments. “Aidan believed books could bridge restrictions of time and space.”

  “Interesting. I feel I must apologize for Brooke’s rudeness. She was in a hurry or she would have greeted you.” Aidan swiped his hands on a white cloth. “How long will you be visiting?”

  Good, he didn’t seem to notice Brooke had not seen her at all. “No need to apologize. She did seem in quite a rush.”

  His lower body matched the magnificence of his upper torso. Her attention went back to his silver eyes. They glimmered with light. She swallowed, trying to work up some saliva. “I won’t be visiting for very long. What are you doing for this fella? Titan?”

  “Yes, Titan. He’s a trouper. In addition to being a target for a bull whip, his hide’s been pelted with bits of wood as if he backed into the stall seeking protection.” He pointed to his tail, which hid the damage beneath.

  The scent of putrid straw intensified with the sight of Titan’s injuries, making her head spin. “That’s criminal.”

  “Yes. We need to change our laws and the court system should be harsher with their animal abuse rulings.” He closed his satchel. “You’ve a nice accent. I’ve an old friend from Norway. Are you from that area?”

  “Even farther north. Are you finished here?” She wanted to keep him by her side longer—only to discover the reason he saw past her shields. Not because her heart pounded faster or his nearness created tingles in her sweet spot.

  “Unfortunately yes. I need to get over to the Johnsons’.” He wrapped his hand around the crook of her arm and propelled them into the sunlight. “Your skin sparkles. Some special lotion?”

  Her eyes hadn’t adjusted to the brilliance from the sun. Did her skin sparkle? Valkyries must not be able to see that in each other, but humans could see the luminescence. Kiara had mentioned Harrison said something about her sparkling skin. She’d need to ask Basil if he could see her glitter.

  “Aidan, come here and meet a special lady.”

  Skogul glanced toward the voice. An older rail-thin man stood next to Mattie. Periodically he’d touch her hand. If the couple made a move or said anything, then they could also see her. Skogul would really have a problem if more humans could get a visual of her.

  The older man waved.

  “I’ll be there in a sec, Doc.” He tugged Skogul’s arm, moving to clasp her hand.

  She jerked her hand out of his hold. “I can’t go over there.”

  “Don’t worry about the outfit. We’ll just say you’re an actress.” He stopped pulling and turned to her. His back was to Mattie and the guy. “You’re not, are you? An actress?”

  “Actress as in thespian?”

  He nodded.

  “Aidan,” the old man shouted.

  “Just a moment, please,” Aidan said.

  Skogul gathered her answer was very important to him. She tried to read his mind. Either he had no thoughts or he was blocking her from reading them. This human baffled her. “No. I do not perform on stage.”

  A long sigh, of relief she imagined, was followed by a heart stopping grin. “Great. How ’bout dinner tonight? I’ll pick you up around seven.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Want to meet Doc and his lady?”

  She shook her head.

  “Okay, then, I’ll see you later.” He jogged toward the couple without responding. From their actions, she determined the couple could not see her. Perhaps this Aidan wasn’t human. She’d have so much fun trying to discover his relevance. Skogul walked to Titan’s stall. “I can’t help you forget the past, but I can put you out of your misery.”

  Chapter 7

  Pippa’s firm bottom, clad in riding trousers, bounced in the saddle as she pushed her horse onward. Basil had a hard time keeping pace and eventually fell behind. Following the dust trail through a copse of pine trees dotted with boulders, he spotted her waiting for him. Sunrays shone on her hair making it appear as if each strand was made from shiny sparkles of slate.

  “Sorry about the dust. Deep South needs to run. Care to go a little farther?” Pippa turned around on her saddle. Straight ahead a wide trail wound around a pond and beyond, fields of wheat awaited harvesting. Despite the cool fall temperatures, sweat rippled along his spine. Scents of pine and rainwater pooled into a natural vat and drew him closer. He hoped to hell she carried bottled water in her little medic-pack, or he’d have to taste the muddy scum water.

  Basil led Buttercup to the side of her dark-brown horse. “I’m up for what you’ve in mind. But I’m not sure if my horse can keep up with yours. Can you and Deep South take a break?” He cocked his head. “By the way, that’s an unusual name for a stallion.”

  Pippa’s soft smile and the way she bit her lower lip stirred the lust in him. He wanted her at this moment more than he’d ever wanted a woman. She swiped at a loose strand of hair. “When my father told me he was going to give me a colt for my thirteenth birthday, he wanted the day to be special. Before I could see my gift, he told me the story of how he and David went south to get the finest horse. Dad could spin quite a story, and so he created a lush tale of bushwhacking through the backwoods of the deep down south.” Her chuckles echoed among the boulders and across the rippling surface of the water as she caressed the steed’s long neck. She stopped near the tiny white spot under the steed’s forehead. “The story was long and drawn out, but once I met my colt”—she sighed—“I fell in love and no other name seemed to fit.”

  Deep South snorted and shook his shiny mane then lifted and lowered his head as if in agreement.

  Basil Vanguard had fallen in like with her. He admired her business sense, her devotion to the wounded, animals and humans. Evoking Pippa’s childhood memories brought her closer to him. Stay on topic. He brought his strategists skills forward. “Have you heard from your brother?”

  Her spine went ridged, like a nun preparing to discipline a rowdy child. Her piercing black stare didn’t unnerve him. “No, have you?”

  He shook his head, although a negative response wouldn’t be enough for her. “I’ve talked to a few buddies. Wilson’s mug is on a wanted poster. Possible AWOL.”

  Her shoulders slumped at the announcement. “Let’s stop. Take a break.”

  Instant regret at mentioning her brother and his desertion from the armed forces tore into his core. He should have considered her feeli
ngs. A man who cared for a woman would think before shoving his big foot into his overly large mouth. But love’em-and-leave’em had no experience with true female-male relationships.

  “Sure. We’ll take a break.” He’d agree to anything to get off the horse. Buttercup was nice enough as long as she was the leader. During the past two miles whenever he pulled the reins, she knocked her head back and he had to hold his knees tight to her sides in order to stay on the seat. The old guy at the stables probably polished the saddle right before Basil hopped on to make sure it was fall-off slick.

  By the time he caught up with Pippa, she stood beside some large pines. Deep South shook his head, as if to say, “Come on, you’re late.” Untethered, her horse wouldn’t move unless Pippa requested. That was the kind of bond they had, like most of the people around her. She obtained respect by simple acts of kindness. How could she and her brother be so incredibly different?

  Now, how to get off the horse without showing the pain radiating through his thighs? A dismount sans groan, he could do. Foot out of the stirrup, he grit his teeth as his hip joints returned to sockets and swung his leg over landing on the ground with a solid thud. He leaned his head against the filly’s flank. Maybe Pippa missed the awkward dismount.

  “Little sore?” she breathed into his ear.

  Damn, he had absolutely no luck today. “Not at all. I’m used to my legs being wrapped around a four-legged torture device.”

  She chuckled and wiped her hand along the horse’s flank. “Buttercup is as sweet as her name. You should walk for a couple of minutes to loosen the stiffness.”

  His attempt at moving his legs was laughable. Week-long missions, with minimal rest, and he’d never experienced this kind of tightness in his inner thighs. He glanced at her. “No wonder your legs are so sexy.”

  She blushed, pivoted and walked to a tree stump, gracefully sitting on the sawed off trunk. “Why are you looking for my brother?”

  “Same as before: our squad is concerned and I believe Wilson knows the whereabouts of my friend.” Basil squatted, bounced, and stood upright, which helped relieve the burning in his muscles a little.