Home for Good

by Jessica Keller

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ali waved as her last student left, then wiped her hands on her jeans. With the “Dream A Little Dream” fundraising event tomorrow, she needed to finish polishing all the tack, make the barn shine and hose down a couple of the dustier horses. Beyond that, calling vendors for confirmation and checking to make certain the attractions she planned to offer to donors were set ranked top on her list for today.

  Chance popped up beside her elbow. “Know what, Mom?”

  She smiled. In his scuffed black boots, jeans and T-shirt, the bandanna tied around his neck like Jericho’s made him look like a cowboy-in-training. “What, Mr. Chance?”

  “I reminded Jericho about camping, and he said we can go this weekend, as long as you say it’s okay.” He jumped beside her as he talked.

  “Did he, now?” Ali rolled the ends of a set of reins in her left hand. “How much work have you accomplished today?”

  “We did everything you asked. Cleared all the weeds, and Jericho mowed the yard. I swept the porch, and I even helped Megan rake the corral. It is so clean, Mom.”

  She layed down the tack and walked to the barn entrance, pretending to scrutinize her crew’s work. To be honest, the property hadn’t looked better since before Dad died. The guests for tomorrow’s event would find Big Sky Dreams shining with a professional polish.

  She turned back to her son. “Everything looks amazing. So you win. It’s okay with me if you go camping with Jericho this weekend.”

  “Aren’t you coming?”

  “Oh, honey, I think it’ll be better if just you two boys go.” Jericho proved capable enough and trustworthy. She could relax with Chance under his care for one night. And besides, it would give her some time away from the man’s intoxicating presence that threatened to throw her well-planned life off-course.

  Yes. She welcomed any excuse to get him away for a while, even if that included time alone with her son. Which frightened her too, but somehow she trusted Jericho not to tell Chance about their marriage now—even more than she trusted herself around him.

  “You hafta come. It won’t be fun without you.” He grabbed her hand and tugged a little, yanking her toward the corral. Jericho crouched nearby, giving the fence a new coat of white paint. “Jericho!” Chance bounced on the balls of his feet. “She said we can go camping. But she said she won’t come with us.”

  He took off his hat and scratched his head. “Not coming?”

  “I thought it would be good if you guys went alone, made it just a boys’ thing.”

  “You have to talk her into going. I’d even help with the fence. See, Mom.” Chance grabbed Jericho’s abandoned brush and smeared the next post so the paint ran down in goopy globs.

  “Aw. Come with us. We want you there.” Jericho cocked an arm on the rail, tilting his head to her with a half smile. “I think it’d be good, the three of us together.”

  “I just think it’s better—”

  Chance jumped back to his feet, flinging a long stream of paint across the lawn. “Who will tuck me in if you’re not there?”

  “Well, Jericho, I guess.”

  “He can’t. Only a mom can do it. That’s the rules. You have to come.”

  “Hey, Al? I need you over here,” Kate called from the maintenance barn.

  Ali cupped her hands around her mouth. “One second, Kate!” She turned back to Chance and plucked the dripping brush from his hand. “You are so helpful, sweetheart. Could you maybe use just a little less paint?”

  Jericho appropriated the tool and winked at her. “I’ll show him how to do it. This’ll be the best fence from here to Canada. What do you say, Chance?”

  Her son scratched his chin. “Probably.”

  Shaking her head, Ali bit back a chuckle. She started to walk away, but a cold damp tickle went up her arm. She looked down at the white stripe. “Aw. Sick, Jericho.” She swatted at him. His eyes gleamed with mischief. “This is outdoor paint. It’ll take forever to wash off.”

  “I know.” He bit back a laugh.

  Ali scooped at the dollop running down her arm and raised an eyebrow at him. He backed up, bumping into the wet fence. When he craned to look at the damage to the back of his shirt, Ali smeared her handful across his jaw and neck.

  He pounced, missing her. She squealed and took off running. His full-chested laugh echoed after her. She glanced over her shoulder and smirked. Jericho turned his attention back to Chance, smearing two streaks like war paint onto her son’s cheeks.

  She reached the run-down green barn panting. It housed broken equipment and old, busted tack. Rustic to the core, no modern conveniences graced the old building. The only light trickling in came from cracks in the side walls and holes in the roof. Birds roosted on the rafters. Ali hated the maintenance barn and avoided going inside it. But it also housed the large wagon occasionally used to give hay rides to the Big Sky Dreams students. She planned to offer rides to donors tomorrow, so she plunged into the musty building.

  Squinting to locate Kate among the piles of unwanted items, Ali found her sister on her hands and knees next to the wagon.

  “Need something?”

  From her prone position, Kate huffed, then sat back on the heels of her feet. “What were you talking about with Chance and Jericho?”

  “I said they could go camping this weekend, and they were trying to convince me to go along. I don’t think it’s a good idea.” She rubbed at the smear on her elbow.

  “Al, your family wants you. Why would you say no to that?”

  “My family?”

  “Your husband and son. What else would you call that?”

  Tracing her fingertips along the grooved wood on the side of the wagon, Ali shrugged. “Just sounds weird.” She straightened. “You didn’t call me over to ask me that, did you?”

  Kate paused. “No. When was the last time you looked at this thing?”

  Ali worked her bottom lip between her teeth. “Yesterday morning. Why?”

  “’Cause you can’t use it. The axle’s busted.”

  Dropping down beside her sister, Ali craned her neck to look under the wagon. Sure enough, the back axle hung in two splinted pieces. “But I checked every inch of this thing yesterday. It wasn’t like that. Kate, it looks like...like someone sawed through the axle.”

  “That’s what I thought, too.”

  Fear, now a gnawing companion, ignited Ali’s nerves. “Who would do such a thing?”

  “Besides us, who has keys to the barn?”

  “Only...”

  “Rider.” They spoke the name in unison.

  * * *

  Charging from the barn, Ali spotted Tripp Phillips climbing out of his Subaru. She called to him. A lawyer was exactly what she needed. With quick, long strides, they met each other midway in the yard. From the corner of her eye, she saw Jericho stop talking to Chance and stand, watching her. At least he remained out of earshot. He’d flip if he knew about the wagon.

  Tripp placed his hands on her shoulders and squeezed. “What’s wrong, Alison? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “I might as well have. Someone’s been doing stuff, really bad stuff, to the ranch and—”

  “Doing stuff to the ranch? Why didn’t I know about this?” His grip tightened. “Are you okay? No one’s hurt you, have they?” His gaze drifted to the right, Jericho’s way.

  She shook her head. “No, not like that. Someone’s been playing mean tricks the last few weeks. And I have proof that Rider Longley’s the one doing it.”

  His eyebrows knit together. “Why does that last name sound familiar?”

  “Someone in his family is suing Dad’s company. His parents were the ones who died in the crash.... He hates me.”

  Tripp’s mouth pulled into a sneer. “And he’s here
? You let him work on your property? Oh, Alison. This is all worse than I thought.”

  She bunched up her hands, her nails digging at her palms. “I didn’t know before, but I’m going to fire him. Right now. I think it’d be better if you came with me. I don’t know what he’s capable of.”

  Tripp gave a wide smile. “Of course. I’m really happy that you asked me. That you trust me. Let’s do it now.”

  She nodded, and he took her hand. Jericho called out her name, sounding wary, but Ali waved him off as she climbed into her truck. At a jaw-rattling speed, she drove to the upper heifer field where they found Rider checking the new calves.

  “Need something, Miss Ali?” The lanky cowboy looped his hands around his belt buckle as she and Tripp walked toward him.

  “Yes, actually, I do. You’re fired. Leave my property and never return.”

  Rider staggered backward, his shoulders sagging like she’d delivered a physical blow. “But why? I know I’m still learning.”

  “How can you stand there and pretend you haven’t done anything? Did you think that little prank to my tires was funny? How many of my cows have died because of your unfortunate fence clipping?” She brushed off Tripp’s restraining hand and advanced toward Rider, challenging him.

  Rider’s eyebrows climbed above the brim of his hat. “I’m trying to catch that person. Ma’am, I’m willing to sleep out here and—”

  “Oh, that’s rich. Sleep out here so you can successfully set my house on fire? Was that your little plan last night?”

  “A fire?”

  “Cut the puppy-dog sad-eye act. Your family is suing me. Do you deny that?”

  “Well, no, but—”

  “Right. So get off my property before I give you a real reason to sue me.”

  “Miss Ali, I—”

  Tripp stepped in between the pair, blocking Ali. He crossed his arms. “I believe the lady’s said her peace. If I were you, I’d get on out of here without another word. Remember, I’m a lawyer, and I’ll make sure any words you say now come into the courtroom should this escalate.”

  Giving one stiff nod, Rider turned and barged toward his red truck. Relief rushed through her veins, and for a moment it felt like the world was right again. But then she remembered the sabotaged wagon.

  “What am I going to do?”

  Tripp snaked his arm around her shoulders, turning her toward him. “About what?”

  “The wagon we use for events, you know, the hay cart? Rider sawed through the axle. We have a couple hundred people coming here tomorrow, and nothing besides food booths. I promised a ride to donors.” She covered her face with her hands. “The entire fundraiser is going to be a failure.”

  “Leave everything for tomorrow to me.”

  * * *

  The morning of the “Dream A Little Dream” event rolled in with a cloudless sky and an over-enthusiastic sun. But despite the heat, Ali flittered from group to group with a giant smile plastered on her face. Really, her cheeks had started to hurt.

  The makeshift parking lot—a plowed-over field on the east side of the ranch—couldn’t cram in another car. The tantalizing, sweet smell of kettle corn saturated the air, almost covering the equally enticing burgers sizzling on the giant grill. People mingled together in small groups scattered across the lawn. Some stood near the therapy horses, which were latched to posts on the corral, looking their finest with braided manes and ribbons tied to their tails. All thanks to the Big Sky Dreams students who had showed up early to decorate. The horses stomped from time to time, flicking away flies. Attendees petted their noses and took their pictures. A demonstration, complete with students of all riding levels, would close the event in the next hour.

  The hum of a local band performing on the front porch drew a ready crowd. Some of her students clapped out of rhythm, but no one seemed to mind. Most of all, people who didn’t even know Big Sky Dreams existed showed up because they spotted the hot air balloons floating above the ranch.

  All thanks to Tripp Phillips.

  “Ready for an adventure? You promised to go up with me.” The very man reached out his hand to her and led her to the front of the balloon ride line. Tethering ropes tied to the baskets allowed them to be hoisted up and down, giving each paying group a ten-minute ride into the skies. Well, more of a hover than a ride. The tethered balloon only rose a hundred yards or so over the ancestral ranch house, but guests still filled the queue, tittering with excitement all the same.

  She bit her lip and peeked over her shoulder to try to spot Jericho in the crowd. “You sure these things are safe?”

  Tripp grinned, tugging her into the wobbling wicker basket. She yelped when the balloon pilot turned the level on the fuel tank, enabling three-foot flames to dance within the rainbow-themed balloon. She worried her hair might catch fire. With a jolt, they started to rise. Ali stumbled back against Tripp, laughing. He wrapped an arm around her waist.

  “Thank you.” She turned to Tripp, who watched her and not the scenery. “This is amazing. I don’t know how you worked it out in one night, but thank you for making this happen.”

  His lips spread into an easy smile. “I had some favors to call in. I’m happy to help you.” His expression changed. “Chance tells me you’re going camping this weekend?”

  The wind whipped hair across her face, and she brushed it away. “He’s pretty set on it.”

  “I don’t want you to go. It’s not safe. Not if Jericho is going. I can’t understand why you’d leave him alone with your son, either.”

  “Well, I can’t go back on my word now. Chance’ll freak.”

  “Who cares what he thinks? He doesn’t need to get what he wants all the time. You’re the parent. Act like it.”

  “Excuse me?” Ali narrowed her eyes.

  Tripp took her gently by her upper arms. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I just don’t like the idea of you and that man out there alone together. Don’t I have the right to voice that?”

  She pulled away. The basket swayed. “We won’t be alone. Chance—the whole reason we’re going camping—will be there.” Turning her back to Tripp, she bumped into a fuel tank, stubbing her toe against the hard metal. “Ouch! Okay, that’s it. I’m ready to go back to earth now.”

  * * *

  With a fire in his belly, larger than the one shooting from the burners on the balloons, Jericho waited for Ali’s ride to finish. He forced his clenched fists to open. Punching Tripp Phillips, as pleasant as it might be, couldn’t happen. Not in front of a crowd. Not while Ali thought he hung the moon for orchestrating this event overnight.

  A thought kept coming back, like a mosquito in a closed room. It didn’t seem possible for Tripp to have planned all this in one evening. If the man had known that Ali’s wagon would be sawed through and had worked out the balloons and band weeks ago...now that made more sense.

  When their basket touched down, Ali exploded out of the doorway, and Jericho strode forward to meet her. He warred with himself for a moment. Should he tell her about the phone call and the horrible news right before the riding demonstration? The set of her brows told him to wait.

  Clamping his mouth shut, he walked beside her. While she stomped her boots and gave orders, he helped the students mount the horses. Jericho quieted the crowd with a shrill whistle, then handed a microphone to Ali.

  “Welcome to our first annual ‘Dream A Little Dream’ event. Is everyone having a good time?”

  A round of applause and a smattering of cheers erupted. Jericho unlatched the corral, parading the first horse and rider into the arena by a lead rope while Ali explained the methods used for therapy riding. After three students demonstrated more advanced techniques, the last kid, astride Chief, performed a very slow barrel race.

  “Well done, Ned! I don’t think I want to try racing against you anytime
soon. You’d give me a run for the winner’s purse for sure.” Her voice sung through the speakers, and the crowd chuckled good-naturedly. As she closed up the event, thanking everyone and giving special recognition to the companies volunteering time and supplies, the crowd clapped, then began to disperse with a rumble of chatter.

  Later in the evening, after picking up the trash littering the ranch and unbraiding horse hair, he had a chance to inch up next to Ali again. “I think everything went well. What do you think?”

  Hair limp from sweating all day, Ali tipped her face his way as they walked toward the house. Her nose and cheeks were red from being sun-kissed, and the caramel coloring in her eyes glowed in the fading sunlight.

  So cute.

  “It did go well. I don’t know the money count, but I have to believe we raised enough to get us over the latest hump. Beyond that, it was just exciting to see so many people learn about therapeutic riding for the first time. If anything, we opened up some eyes to a need.”

  Jericho decided to start in on his news in a slow, deliberate way. “It was a wonder. Tripp sure has a lot of connections around town. Powerful connections. I feel like, after seeing this today, that man could get his hands on just about anything he wanted.”

  “Tripp saved us. Without him, there wouldn’t have been an event today. Even if we still had the wagon, it would have been Podunk at best.”

  Catching her arm, Jericho brought her up short before the porch steps. “I think he’s dangerous.”

  “Dangerous? Funny—he said the same about you.” Her eyes narrowed.

  “I don’t know how to say this kindly, but I got a call today from the vet.” Jericho looked up into the purple-dusted evening sky, wishing he didn’t have to tell her. “He gave me the findings on Denny, because I paid for the necropsy. Ali, Den was poisoned.”

  “Po-poisoned?” Ali’s knees buckled.

  Jericho lurched forward, catching her by the elbows. “Yeah. Not by eating the wrong plants, either. The doctor said it was some pretty strong stuff called Ricin. He was amazed that anyone besides a medical researcher would have access to it. Guess the stuff’s been used in warfare to kill people before.” Sliding down, he helped her sit on the porch steps.