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Wings of Gold Series

Page 64

by Tappan, Tracy


  Three simple words, but not simple at all. Not to Shane, who knew what they meant.

  He looked down at the toe of his boot, a muscle twitching with violence in his jaw.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Twenty-five years ago

  Boston Equestrian Center, Oxford, Massachusetts

  Shane cocked back his arm, the stick in his hand.

  “Ready?” Jason asked softly.

  Jason’s two Labradors, one black, one yellow, weaved between the two boys, barking with excitement, launching up on their hind legs.

  “Yeah,” Shane said.

  “GO!” Jason shouted.

  Shane threw the stick as far as he could.

  The dogs catapulted after it.

  He and Jason ran in the opposite direction, those funny britches Jason wore for his riding lessons going swish-swish. “The big rock this time,” Jason panted.

  “Okay!” Too bad Danny was at Cub Scouts today. He loved this game!

  They careened around the boulder and crouched down, breathing hard from their mad sprint. They waited.

  Far off, near the stables, a loud neigh rang out, then a second later, Shane heard paws pattering through dead leaves.

  Jason giggled.

  Shane held a finger to his lips, telling his friend to be quiet, although he giggled behind his finger, too.

  Jason didn’t always get to bring his dogs along when he had a riding lesson, but when the dogs did come, Shane and Jason always played doggie hide-and-seek.

  Mrs. Vanderby also didn’t always bring along Dr. Vanderby. But Jason’s father was here today to watch Mrs. Vanderby prepare for a horse show she was going to be in soon.

  The sounds of snuffling drew close, grew louder, and then the yellow Lab appeared around the side of the rock, his tongue lolling in a doggie smile.

  “You found us!” Jason whooped as he threw his arms around the dog’s thick neck.

  The dogs always did. But where…?

  Shane sprang to his feet and combed the woods. “Hey, where’s the black one?” He couldn’t ever seem to remember the dogs’ names, even though he had been friends with Jason for a year now. Probably because the Labs didn’t have doggie-sounding names.

  “Oh, he’s probably just chasing a rabbit or a squirrel.” Jason hopped around with his yellow dog, laughing. “He’ll be back in a minute.”

  He and Jace raced back onto the main path, the yellow dog bounding along with them.

  Shane found another stick. “Should we wait for the black—?”

  “Get out of here!” Jason hissed. “Now!”

  Shane startled so hard he dropped the stick. What—? He glanced at Jason, saw his friend’s face break apart in terror, then whipped his eyes over to where Jason was looking down the path.

  Dr. Vanderby was marching toward them in long strides, his mouth pinched in a weird way. He was leading the black Lab by a rope through the dog’s collar.

  “Go hide, Shane!” Jason sounded panicked. “I mean it!”

  Shane unfroze and raced full tilt into the forest. When it came to warnings about fathers, he knew to run away first, ask why later. Sprinting back to their hiding-place boulder, he skidded around the large rock onto his stomach, lying like a commando so he could spy on Jason and his dad. Jason had probably meant for him to go far away, but he couldn’t leave his best friend. He didn’t know what he could do to help—when it came to fathers, there wasn’t much of anything a kid could do—but he still couldn’t leave.

  Dr. Vanderby stopped in front of his son. “Whose responsibility is this dog, Jason?”

  Jason was silent for a long time, his eyes just scissoring around.

  Shane watched intently, his heartbeat feeling like it was everywhere in his body. What was going on? Why was Jason acting afraid of his father? Dr. Vanderby wore suits. He was a doctor with lots of money. Jason lived in a big house and had video games.

  “Mine, sir,” Jason finally said.

  “And what is included in that responsibility?” Dr. Vanderby asked in a cool voice.

  “I…I…”

  Dr. Vanderby exhaled, a fierce blast of air from both nostrils. “Why am I not surprised you don’t know the answer?”

  Dr. Vanderby’s voice was so cold that Shane swore he could feel it over here by the boulder, forming icicles on him. The muscles across his shoulders clenched.

  “It is your responsibility,” Dr. Vanderby stressed, “to train this dog to be well-behaved. Do you or do you not agree?”

  Shane watched a rippling swallow move down Jason’s throat.

  “This animal,” Dr. Vanderby bit out, “jumped out at your mother’s horse and startled it. Your mother was thrown.”

  Jason went deathly pale. “Is she okay?”

  “It doesn’t matter that your mother’s unharmed,” Dr. Vanderby shot back. “What matters is this incident should have been avoided altogether, could have been, if you were at all a reliable person.”

  “Yes, sir.” Jason wiped his forearm across his nose.

  Even from here, Shane could see how red his best friend’s eyes were. He curled his hands into fists. If he was standing next to Jason right now, he’d punch Dr. Vanderby.

  “A man—a good man—owns responsibility for his actions, Jason.”

  “Yes, sir. I know.”

  “You don’t know,” Dr. Vanderby snapped. “I’ve tried to teach you this again and again, but you never learn. You need to be made to understand this, Jason.” Dr. Vanderby drew a pistol out of his coat pocket. It was the one the stables kept to scare off coyotes.

  Jason’s eyes bugged.

  Shane’s heart stopped. God! What was Dr. Vanderby doing!?

  “I’m going to make certain that, once and for all, you understand this.” Dr. Vanderby gestured at the black Lab with the gun. “Dispose of Barney,” he ordered Jason, then held the butt-end of the gun out to his son.

  “What…?” Jason looked at the pistol being offered to him, and his eyes bugged out even more.

  “If you can’t show that you’re able to properly care for your pets, then you won’t be allowed to have them.”

  “I… I’ll do better, sir… I can…I promise!”

  “Have you shown you can properly care for your pets?”

  “But—”

  “Have you?!” Dr. Vanderby demanded in a near shout.

  Jason visibly jerked.

  “You have not,” Dr. Vanderby answered for himself. “You don’t deserve Barney. Dispose of him.”

  “I…I’ll do anything…”

  “I said dispose of him.”

  “No!”

  The skin on Dr. Vanderby’s face tightened. “Dispose of Barney, or I will dispose of Barney and Jed.”

  “N-no, please…just lock them away in a kennel again, sir…p-please.”

  A sharp glitter came into Dr. Vanderby’s eyes.

  It was a mean look Shane recognized as one his own father had, those nights when bad stuff came into Hank’s head and he was at his drunkest, wanting everyone to suffer along with him. Shane tensed. He needed to run down there and shake his friend. Stop begging your dad, Jason. You’re making things worse!

  “Very well, then.” Dr. Vanderby grabbed the scruff of the yellow dog, who was obediently waiting beside Jason. “You’ve made your decision.” Dr. Vanderby set the barrel of the gun at Jed’s temple.

  “NO!” Jason screamed. Leaping forward, he snatched at his father’s sleeve.

  Dr. Vanderby slapped Jason’s hand off.

  “Please!” Jason cried. “Don’t!”

  Shane started to shake. Acid stung his nose. He might throw up.

  “Take responsibility for yourself, Jason, and you lose one dog. Continue to behave foolishly and stupidly, and you lose both.” Dr. Vanderby thrust the gun at Jason again. “What will it be?”

  Jason was crying so hard now, his face was melting off, tears flooding down his cheeks and snot running out of his nose.

  Stop being mean to my friend! Sha
ne wanted to scream it, but the coupling linking his brain to his tongue had come unhooked.

  With trembling hands, Jason took the pistol. “Oh, God…” he wept. “Oh, God, please, Father…”

  Dr. Vanderby stood in place, his back rigid, his expression stern.

  Jason pointed the gun at the black dog’s forehead. “Oh, God… Oh, God…”

  Shane stared with wide eyes, sick inside, stomach acid in his mouth.

  “I’m so sorry, Barney…”

  No. Shane bowed his head and squeezed his eyes so tight he almost turned his lashes inside out. The word came silently to his own lips. Please…

  BLAM!

  Shane slapped both hands over his face, a sudden, hard sob balling in his chest.

  A flock of birds burst from the trees, screeching.

  He couldn’t move at first. He was weeping with such brutal intensity, it seemed like every bone in his body was breaking. When he finally staggered to his feet, Dr. Vanderby was gone.

  Jason was sitting on the ground, Barney at his feet, laid out on his side with…blood by his head.

  Shane made a choked, hiccupping sound, more tears bowling down his cheeks as he raced, frantic and stumbling, toward his friend. He stopped over Jason, gasping for breath, for…what to do.

  Jed probably felt the same. The yellow dog was nudging at Jason’s hand with his nose and whining.

  Jason dug his fingers into Barney’s black fur. “Stupid horse,” he whispered raggedly. “Why’d you have to go and scare a stupid horse?” Jason turned a tear-streaked face up to Shane. “You’ve always wanted my life,” he said in a stopped-up voice, like he had a cold. “You’ve never said it, but I know.” His expression darkened. “Do you still?”

  Shane threw himself down on the ground and flung his arms around his friend. “I’m so sorry.” He hugged Jason as tight as he could. He’d never guessed…never even thought it was possible for a monster to live in such a sparkling house like the one Ma cleaned on Beacon Hill. “You and I,” he said hoarsely, “are going to stick together through everything that sucks, okay?” He sat back on his heels. Now he knew Jason could relate to what it was like to have a horrible father, it changed everything. “Let’s make a pact right now, Jason, to always watch out for each other.”

  Jed licked Jason’s face.

  Jason just stared across the path into the forest. “Yeah,” he said dully. “We’ll be like the Marines and let nothing divide us.” He ripped up some grass with his fingers. “When my father gave me the gun,” he said in a wobbly voice, “I wanted to shoot him with it, you know.”

  Shane sniffed hard. “Yeah.”

  Jason’s eyes were…super weird…like a dead guy’s.

  He’d never seen a look like that on his friend’s face before.

  “Why didn’t I?” Jason asked on a rasp.

  Another tear leaked out. Shane quickly scrubbed it aside. “Because he’s your father.”

  “But I hate him, Shane. I really, really do. I know it makes me bad, but I do.”

  “I hate your father, too.” He balled his hands. “I hate mine.”

  “You do?”

  He nodded. One day he’d show Jason all his scars. He could do that now.

  “I’m going to kill my father someday, Shane.”

  Jason said it so plainly, at first Shane didn’t think he’d heard his friend right.

  “I’m not kidding.” Jason’s mouth trembled.

  He set a palm on Jason’s shoulder. “I believe you.” And if Jason did it, Shane would be with him. No more hiding behind boulders. Let nothing divide us.

  The pact was made.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Farrin spread her blanket over a scattering of hay, then sat huddled against the barn wall, her arms folded across her bent knees and her forehead resting on her arms.

  Jason had decided to stop for the night in this small, rundown town and recoup inside the barn they’d found. It was probably a good idea, despite the urgency of their situation. They all needed rest, especially Shane, even though for her, sleep wouldn’t come. She was exhausted, yes, utterly, but more in spirit than body—and all the self-chastisements she was indulging in weren’t helping her find peace.

  Considering her day had started with uneasy feelings leading her to evacuate her aid station, then moved on to shock and upset over Kaleem’s betrayal, horror over her Navy pilot patient being shot in front of her—because of her!—further revulsion over the carnage Shane wrought, both in the post-op ward and the cave, then ending in a terrifying race for her life, her flagging spirits were to be expected. She should be more self-forgiving, but…

  She’d made a complete fool of herself in the cave, not to mention her hysteria—and naïve stupidity!—in post-op, and letting go of it all was proving difficult. Things like I’m a grown woman with a good head on my shoulders kept plugging up her mind like a drainage clog, along with the vow she’d made to herself eighteen years ago when she fled Iran: I’ll never be afraid again. Where had her resolve to keep her promise gone?

  She rubbed her forehead back and forth on her forearms. She supposed there’d just been too much terror to contend with today. And then when she was in the cave, and it went so dark, and she was surrounded by rapid breathing—exactly like another time in her life when she’d been in the pitch dark with rapid breathing in her ear—she’d tumbled into a world of half-memories and panicky sensations.

  Sweet flower…sweet flower…

  She gritted her teeth, her abdominal muscles cramping. Those two words still held too much power over her—all memories of her former marriage always pressed down on her like a bruising weight. She avoided them as much as possible, although apparently the act of forcefully suppressing them had turned the memories into tinder, too easily ignited with the right provocations. It was detestable how—

  “Hey.”

  She jerked her head up, gasping.

  “Oh, sorry.” Jason was standing in front of her. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  She set a hand on her chest, her heart drumming so rapidly against her palm, she’d hate to see what her diastolic looked like right now. Swallowing heavily, she pushed the memory of Raham to the back of her mind…where it would probably brew and boil in wait for the next time it could hit her out of nowhere.

  “I just want to apologize,” Jason went on. “What happened in the cave…I’m sorry for being rough with you.”

  She blew air down her nostrils. A man was saying sorry for touching her? What was the world coming to?

  Jason’s gaze remained steady on hers, one eye hidden in shadow, the other glittering in the moonlight shining through the partially open barn door.

  He meant it.

  She sat back, swinging her crossed arms from off her knees to under her breasts. “You did what you had to do to save us, especially since I didn’t leave you much choice. I’m the one who should apologize for putting everyone else in danger.”

  He shrugged, excusing her with a, “You were scared.”

  “No, I was…I mean, yes, I was scared, but it was more than that. The darkness…” She let her gaze stray to a selection of bridles and reins hanging from a metal hook on the wall. “Something happened to me in the dark a while ago, and I…today I reacted to it.”

  Jason’s one glittery eye dimmed.

  She flushed. He probably thought she’d been molested by her father. “It’s nothing like…” She paused, floundering, words backing up in her throat. How could she explain it to him? She’d never fully understood it herself, why sex with Raham had upset her so much. He’d always been kind and gentle in bed. “I’m making it sound worse than it is. What happened to me wasn’t all that bad. I mean…I allow it to bother me when it shouldn’t.” Tears brimmed anyway. Oh, heavens. She pressed a hand over her eyes Too much…too many feelings today…shock, horror, revulsion, terror… and now her vivid memories of Raham.

  Sweet flower…sweet flower…

  Hot tears spilled onto her chee
ks before she could stop them, and she hid her face in both hands and started to cry in earnest.

  Jason didn’t hesitate, like he probably should have as a stranger. He plunked down his backpack and rifle, then dropped onto the barn floor next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

  She stiffened, but…there was no innuendo in his embrace, no flirtation, no angling for future intimacy. It was pure comfort. So she burrowed her face in his chest and let herself weep. After a day of evacuated, lonely aid stations, the finality of death, plus a near lifetime of denial, even she needed some human contact to get through it all.

  Jason drew her more snugly against his side.

  He smelled of scents she recognized: the bath soap she’d given him from the linen closet and the brand of deodorant. The familiar odors increased her feeling of rightness in his arms. How very unusual. Men never gave her a sense of well-being. This was all so…strange.

  But then, maybe it shouldn’t be strange—after all, Jason was the least sexually aggressive man she’d ever met. Even his erection, she’d sensed, hadn’t been a seduction. Just a…greater awareness of her. Yes, she could tell she was no longer a bowl of cold oatmeal to him. Perhaps he was even attracted to her, and—strange, again—that didn’t make her uncomfortable. Another first for her. It was, however, also the first time she’d encountered a man who could separate attraction from his other feelings and actions.

  Whatever the combination, it worked to put her at ease, and her crying gradually diminished to sniffling. She braced a hand on Jason’s chest and pushed herself off him. “I’m sorry.” She gestured at the front of his kameez. “It looks like I soaked you.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” he said, compassion gentling his tone. “Today sucked.” He shifted over to a position across from her, where he’d left his gear, and dug into his backpack. “Are you hungry? I have two ready-meals.”

  “No, thank you.” She’d eaten one of her fruit bars earlier, and it was enough for her stressed-out stomach. “But you go ahead.”

 

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