by Alison Hart
Jas flipped up her shirt collar so no one would notice the red marks on her neck. Grandfather put his arm around her shoulders. “It’ll be all ’ight,” he assured her.
“You may enter.” The deputy opened the doors and escorted Jas in first. She gulped nervously when she spotted the robed judge behind his desk in the front of the room. The last time she’d faced him, she’d been convicted of assault.
Slowly, she walked down the aisle between the rows of benches. Mr. Eyler, the probation officer, sat against a wall near the front. He was talking to Miss Tomlinson, who was next to him. Jas’s public defender, Mr. Petrie, sat behind the defense table on the right. This time there was no prosecuting attorney at the table on the left.
And no Hugh. Jas’s shoulders sagged with relief as she looked around to make sure. Still, she could feel his presence. Don’t forget, I have friends in high places. She looked at the judge. He was reading her file, his head bent. Was he Hugh’s golfing buddy? Fraternity brother? Distant cousin?
The deputy guided Jas to the chair next to Mr. Petrie. She sat, immediately twisting to look over her shoulder. Miss Hahn, Chase, Grandfather, and Dr. Danvers were seated several rows behind her. They smiled encouragingly. This isn’t like the first trial, Jas reminded herself. That time, she’d had no one.
Jas gave them a wavering smile. Then she took a deep breath and faced the judge.
Mr. Petrie was already standing, addressing the bench. “Good morning, Your Honor.”
“Good morning, Mr. Petrie,” the judge said without looking up from Jas’s file.
Jas squirmed in her chair, remembering her trial forty-five days ago.
Miss Schuler, you have been charged with assault against Hugh Robicheaux. Mr. Petrie, how does your client plead?
Your Honor, Miss Schuler pleads not guilty.
Only, she had been guilty of attacking Hugh. And she’d do it again today.
Finally the judge looked up from the folder. “I see from the reports that Miss Schuler has met the terms of her probation.”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“It is my understanding that Mr. Eyler, Mrs. Weisberger, and Miss Tomlinson have agreed that no further services are necessary for your client.”
“That is correct,” Mr. Petrie said.
“Is Miss Schuler’s grandfather, Karl Schuler, willing and able to cooperate?”
“I am, Your Honor!” Jas heard her grandfather shout.
The judge smiled. “You may sit down, Mr. Schuler. Mr. Petrie will respond for you.”
“He is willing and able, Your Honor.”
The judge next consulted with the probation officer and social worker. Finally he turned to Jas. “Jasmine Schuler, please stand.”
She stood so quickly that the chair scraped the floor with a loud rasp. “Assault is a serious charge. It will remain on your record until you are eighteen. I have read the extenuating circumstances concerning Mr. Robicheaux and his alleged participation in the death of two horses. However, Mr. Robicheaux’s actions do not mitigate your crime. You are hereby ordered …”
This is where the judge tells me he’s seen the tape, and I will never, ever go free.
“… to have no contact with Mr. Hugh Robicheaux, and you will continue to be restricted from High Meadows Farm. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes.” Jas gasped in surprise.
“Speak up. I want to be sure you understand the importance of my order.”
Jas bobbed her head. “Yes, Your Honor.”
“Mr. Schuler, as the child’s guardian, you are also responsible for making sure that your granddaughter has no contact with Mr. Robicheaux, his horses, or his property.”
“I un-nerstand, Your Honor.”
The judge swung his attention back to Jas, his gaze boring into hers. She began to tremble. This is when he mentions the tape. This is where he arrests Chase. “It is the order of the court that the terms of your probation and foster care be concluded.” The gavel banged down. “Bailiff, clear the court for the next case.”
Jas leaped in the air. She gratefully thanked Mr. Petrie. Outside the courtroom, she hugged Grandfather and Miss Hahn, and thanked Miss Tomlinson and Mr. Eyler.
“Now let’s go have that ankle bracelet removed,” Miss Tomlinson said.
As Jas passed by Chase, he caught her hand. “See?” he whispered. “Everything turned out great. Hugh was bluffing.”
She gave his hand a squeeze and then strode after Miss Tomlinson. Jas was glad Chase was feeling confident. But she knew better. For some reason, Hugh hadn’t used the surveillance tape today. Even more puzzling, somehow he knew that she was searching for Whirlwind.
No, Hugh definitely wasn’t bluffing, and he wasn’t all talk.
Hugh had a spy.
Six
THE ANKLE BRACELET PLOPPED TO THE FLOOR. Jas wiggled her leg. Without it, she felt a hundred pounds lighter. So did her spirits. She was no longer Jasmine Schuler, foster kid. And despite Hugh’s threats, she felt freer than she had in months. So free, she skipped like a kid down the hall to join Miss Hahn and the others.
“You look as happy as Rose in the corn bin,” Chase joked. Everybody laughed.
“And now for another treat,” Miss Hahn said.
“Lunch? I’m starving,” Chase said.
“Better than lunch.” She exchanged a knowing look with Dr. Danvers.
Chase’s jaw dropped. “You two are getting married while we’re here at the courthouse?”
“Chase!” Jas poked him hard with her elbow. Dr. Danvers guffawed, Grandfather chortled, and Miss Hahn turned bright red.
“Certainly not,” she declared. “But Dr. Danvers did help me find a mobile home. We thought we’d go see it. If you two like it, we can move it to the farm on Monday.”
“Yes! We’ll like it, won’t we?” Jas gave Grandfather a hug.
“Lunch first?” Chase pleaded.
They agreed to eat at a nearby diner. Jas linked her arm with her grandfather’s. As she helped him through the courthouse door, she glanced behind her, expecting to see Hugh slouched in a dark corner, watching her with his predator eyes. The hearing was over, and the judge had ruled in Jas’s favor. But that didn’t mean she was free from Hugh Robicheaux. Her fight with him was just beginning.
“Incredible news,” Jas told Shadow the next day as she snapped the cross ties to his halter. “My ankle transmitter is off. Now I can ride you any time I want.”
Shadow pawed the aisle floor as if he didn’t like what he heard. Laughing, Jas attacked his mud-caked coat with the curry. Last night it had finally rained after weeks of sun, and every horse had rolled.
Dirt flew as she rubbed, coating Jas’s teeth. Still, she couldn’t stop smiling. It was ten in the morning and too hot and buggy to ride. But after being on lockdown for so long, Jas wanted to prove that she could leave the property any time she wanted.
After Shadow was clean, she spritzed him with fly spray and tacked him up. When she checked the girth, he mouthed the bit and switched his tail. Jas rolled her eyes. The big guy was going to be a handful.
“Except I’m getting wise to your tricks,” Jas said as she shoved her helmet on her head. She hunted for the mounting block, which had disappeared. Fortunately, she heard Chase outside.
She led Shadow from the barn. Chase was bent over, scrubbing buckets, singing a country song at the top of his lungs.
“I thought Rose was being murdered out here,” Jas teased. “But it’s only you butchering a song. Can you give me a leg up?”
“So you can have fun while I work?”
“Hey, this is my day to celebrate. I’ll be back in time to do my share.”
He straightened. His T-shirt was wet and molded to his slim torso. Hastily, Jas swung her eyes to Shadow. “Whoa, whoa,” she said, even though he was standing still. Dropping the sponge in the bucket, Chase came up behind her. Reins gathered in her left hand, Jas held onto the pommel. She reached for the cantle of the saddle with her right hand. Cha
se cupped his hands under her bent left knee. “One, two, three!” On three, he tossed her into the saddle.
“Thanks.” She smiled down at him as Shadow danced sideways. He didn’t smile back. “What?”
He crossed his arms. “You didn’t tell me everything Hugh said yesterday.”
Blood rushed up her already hot neck. How’d he know? “Ummm.” Bending, Jas checked her girth, then adjusted her stirrups. Shadow stomped impatiently. Finally she said, “You’re right; there wasn’t time. The bailiff had called my case.”
“There’s time now.”
“I don’t want to think about Hugh now. I’ll tell you after my ride, okay?” Eager to get away from his accusing eyes, Jas squeezed her heels into Shadow’s sides. He leaped forward, almost unseating her. She steered him through the open pasture gate, glancing behind her. She’d expected to see Chase still standing there, but he was gone.
She’d made a deal with him: no more secrets. So why hadn’t she told him about Hugh’s threats to the farm?
Shadow broke into a trot, his legs pounding with each long stride. She shook the question from her head. She needed to forget Hugh and concentrate on Shadow. The huge warm-blood was no push-button ride, and it took all Jas’s balance and strength to keep her hands and seat steady.
“Easy, easy,” she crooned as he headed toward the pond. She’d ridden him on the trail before, but never alone. She wasn’t sure what to expect.
The hill was slippery from the rain, and she sat deep, trying to slow him. He fought her, shaking and rooting his head. He wanted to run, which would be disastrous. Shadow was hard enough to control in the ring. He’d be impossible in an open, muddy field. If he was to learn trail manners, she would have to be firm.
As they trotted across the pasture, Jas looked up the brush-covered hill that sloped to the pond. The top was a perfect site for the mobile home they’d seen yesterday. It was rusted outside and musty inside, and Grandfather could barely make it up the makeshift steps. But it was free, a donation from a local farmer. Broken windows could be fixed. Moldy carpet could be replaced.
A duck took off from the pond with a whir of wings. Shadow exploded, throwing Jas onto his neck. She grabbed mane. Righting herself, she pulled his head around, doubling him into a circle. She’d ridden plenty of feisty horses before. But none as powerful as Shadow. At least he’s taking my mind off my troubles, Jas thought as she gritted her teeth. But it also made her long for Whirlwind.
Jas had grown up with the mare. She’d been the first person to belly her, mount her, jump her, and show her, and she’d been her only groom. Whirlwind was graceful and sweet: Riding her had been a dream. They’d been in sync whether under saddle or over fences. Shadow was her challenge, Whirlwind her love. The pang grew sharper. Jas had to find her.
A snort startled her. Blowing wildly, Shadow skittered from pretend demons in the underbrush. Jas legged him forward, and they followed the fence line to the log jump built into the board fence. “From my long-ago days of foxhunting,” Miss Hahn had explained during the last trail ride. The logs were stacked three foot six; Shadow was such a talented jumper, he could take it at a trot.
She circled him, collecting him with rein, seat, and leg. When his one ear flicked and she knew he was listening, she pointed him toward the jump. He took off, sailed sky-high over the logs, and bounded wildly into the woods beyond. Jas ducked onto his neck to keep from getting knocked off by branches. Finally she got him back on the wide trail and trotting. Only then did she catch her breath.
“Don’t you ever tire out?” she gasped. At last, he calmed to a jouncing walk. Flies buzzed around Jas’s face, and sweat dripped from under her helmet. She swatted a deerfly on his neck, and he jumped sideways into a briar patch.
“Walk!” Jas growled. Miss Hahn had warned her that trail riding an ex-show jumper like Shadow took endless hours and bottomless patience.
Jas had both. Now that the stress of the court hearing was behind her and she wasn’t on lockdown, she planned on working Shadow every day. She was going to step up her search for Whirlwind, too. Hugh’s threats weren’t going to stop her.
A fallen log crossed the trail ahead. Jas squeezed her legs against Shadow’s sides, and he broke into a canter. Popping over it, they continued down the trail, his stride smooth and strong. “Atta boy,” she praised.
Forty minutes and several miles later, they headed back up the hill through the pasture. Shadow’s neck was dark with sweat, and the armpits of Jas’s T-shirt were soaked. But the gelding walked calmly, and Jas let her reins dangle.
As they neared the farm, Jas spotted Mr. Muggins in the stable yard. He was scrubbing Rose’s bristly back with a long-handled brush. In the riding ring, Rand was nailing a broken board. Chase waved at her from the quarantine paddock, where he was brushing out Wonder’s tail. He’d been the one to volunteer to give the new rescue TLC. Already the colt’s sores were healing, and he’d gained weight.
“Git! Git!” Jas heard Miss Hahn holler. She stood in the doorway of the office trailer, shooing Heckle and Jeckle, the two burros, off the steps. Tilly, the border collie mix who followed Miss Hahn everywhere, barked at their heels. Devil the goat butted the bottom step, but the pesky burros were not budging until they got a treat.
When they reached the gate, Jas dismounted. She loosened the girth and led Shadow toward the office trailer after shutting the gate behind her. The burros had been rousted, and Miss Hahn sat on the steps, Tilly by her side. A phone book was in her lap, and a worried frown creased her brow.
“More bad news?” Jas asked, trying to sound upbeat.
“The hay supplier just called. He’s out of hay. I’ve been calling around, but because of the drought, hay’s in demand. Everyone wants too much money. And folks keep calling about horses they want us to take, because they have no grass and can’t afford to feed them.” Miss Hahn got slowly to her feet. “I can’t tell them no. What’s the point of a rescue farm if we can’t rescue animals? So I’ll just have to keep calling—someone’s got to have hay.” Sighing, she retreated into the office.
The door shut behind her, and Jas felt a weight drop on her own shoulders. “Let’s get you washed,” she said, leading Shadow through the geese who were plucking weeds from around the trailer.
I can and I will destroy Miss Hahn and her precious farm. Over fifty animals had found a home at Second Chance Farm. Yet Hugh would have no qualms about ruining the refuge that Miss Hahn and the other volunteers had created for them.
Jas blinked back tears as she suddenly realized what she had to do. As much as she wanted to see Hugh prosecuted and as much as she loved Whirlwind, she couldn’t put the farm and its animals in jeopardy.
She had to give up her fight against Hugh. She had to give up her search for Whirlwind.
Seven
HALTING SHADOW BEFORE THE STABLE DOORWAY, Jas pressed her cheek against his sweaty neck. “I don’t want to lose you, either,” she whispered. “And who knows what Hugh will do if I make him madder. He could burn down the barn. Poison the—”
“Hey, Jas,” Chase called from the fenced-in area around the quarantine shed. “Hurry and untack Shadow. I need help with Hope.”
“I’ve gotta wash him first,” she hollered back, glad to be distracted from her gloomy thoughts.
Mr. Muggins strode toward her, bucket and brush in his hand. “I’ll help,” he said. Jas stiffened. Since her day in court, she’d been thinking about Hugh’s spy. Was it someone at the farm? Someone like Mr. Muggins, who was a recent volunteer?
“I’m already soaked and I’m finished with Rose—or maybe I should say Rose is finished with me.” Mr. Muggins tugged on his wet pant leg. “I’ll get you fresh water and a sweat scraper.”
“Thanks.” Jas led Shadow down the aisle, where she put on his halter and untacked him. Back outside, she found a bucket of warm water and a scraper on the ground. Miss Hahn had introduced Mr. Muggins as a retired high school teacher with too much time on his hands. Or was tha
t just a story he’d made up?
Jas would have to be careful about what she said around him.
“Fine-looking animal,” Mr. Muggins told her when he came out of the barn and handed her a sponge.
“You should have seen him a month ago. Do you ride?”
He took the lead line from her. “My wife, Cindy, did. Before she died last year. Cancer.”
“I’m sorry. My grandmother died from cancer, too.” Jas slopped warm water on Shadow’s back. Raising his head, the gelding wiggled his upper lip in delight. “I bet you miss her. It’s been over a year, but I still miss my grandmother.”
“Every day. I used to be Cindy’s groom before she got sick, and we had to sell her mare. After she died, I realized how much I missed being around animals. A friend suggested volunteering here.”
Using the scraper, Jas slicked off the excess water. Mr. Muggins’s story sounded real, and since he knew what a sweat scraper was, he must have experience with horses like he said. Still, Jas wasn’t taking any chances. “This place certainly needs volunteers,” she said. “There’s more work than workers, that’s for sure. Thanks for your help.”
She gave him a friendly smile, then walked Shadow into the ring to cool him off. Rand was banging nails into a post, replacing a broken board. Jas remembered the day Shadow jumped the five-foot fence into the neighboring field. It was the first time she suspected that the big horse they’d rescued was something special.
The ex–rodeo rider wore his signature sweat-stained cowboy hat and dusty jeans. “Need help, Rand? Mr. Muggins is looking for something to do.”
He grunted. “The school teacher? No thanks. He already bent up a handful of nails.” His gaze shifted to Shadow. “But if that bronco breaks down any of these new boards, you can pick up a hammer, young lady.”
“That’s fair.”
He arced a squirt of tobacco juice over the fence. “Heard about yesterday. Glad to see that ankle bracelet’s gone.” Rand had begun volunteering soon after Jas had come to the farm, and he knew about her situation. Could he be the spy? she wondered. But she shook off the idea, realizing she was getting paranoid.
