Shane ( Horse Whisperer Novel Book 2)

by Carol Devine

  "It's working." He kissed her but she pressed her finger against his mouth.

  "No PDA in front of our new friends."

  Ever the jokester, he pretended to bite her finger, then turned his attention to the aforementioned friends. "Is she going to be in trouble with the law?"

  "She's been missing only a few hours. Wilma knows better than to put out an Amber Alert before she's heard the whole story."

  "Speaking of Wilma, she gave you a nice recommendation, bringing you in to help. Told you those promo magnets were a nice idea. Best advertising there is."

  Mariah fake-punched him in the arm.

  "Jus' saying," he said. He tilted his head toward Caitlyn, "She in trouble with Dad, you think?"

  Mariah studied the reunion between father and daughter. Roger had his arm around Caitlyn's shoulders and she was patting his chest in a non-sexual manner, as if to reassure him. They were murmuring to each other, neither one angry nor drama-laden.

  "According to Roger, Caitlyn's never run away before. But something's up. Yesterday, he was supposed to drop her off at Camp Bristlecone for three weeks. She balked at the last minute, wouldn't get back in the car after they stopped for lunch. They ended up spending the night at the Frontier Hotel. When Roger woke up this morning, she was gone."

  "Most kids love Bristlecone."

  "I know. Roger says she chose the camp herself for the Alpine Science Program, and was excited to go when they left Denver."

  "Why run away then?"

  "Good question. She never has before, according to him, so he doesn't have a clue. Neither do I, for that matter. Look at them. They're getting along fine."

  "Maybe she's shy, afraid she won't make friends."

  "It's a possibility. She's thirteen which could explain the rash decision-making. Did she say anything to you?"

  "Not much. She told me she wasn't allowed to talk to strangers."

  Mariah's eyes twinkled. "Yet, when I got here, she was talking to you. Why am I not surprised?"

  "Jukebox has a reputation with the ladies."

  "He's not the only one." Mariah scratched Jukebox's nose, pondering Caitlyn's behavior. "Shane, do me a favor? Let Caitlyn say goodbye to Jukebox. I want to see her interaction with the horse and how Roger handles it."

  Shane waved at Caitlyn. "You want to say goodbye to my horse? It's loading time."

  Caitlyn grabbed her father's hand and tugged. "You have to meet Jukebox, Dad. He likes me. He's amazing."

  Roger extended his other hand to Shane. "Thank you for finding my girl. I was worried sick."

  Shane shook the hand. "No problem. I'm Shane Youngblood."

  "Roger Cahill. Caitlyn, I want you to meet Mariah McBride. She's the private detective I told you about. She was brought in to help the Sheriff in Grizzly Springs look for you. I think she'd be much easier to talk to than the Sheriff, don't you?"

  "I guess." Caitlyn stroked Jukebox's neck. Mariah noted the oversized sweatshirt and too long sleeves, like Caitlyn was trying to hide her body. Maybe she was self-conscious. Not unusual at her age. On the other hand, maybe she was simply making a fashion statement. Oversized shirts and teeny shorts or micro skirts were the height of teenage girl couture.

  "See, Dad? Isn't he beautiful? He's the best horse ever."

  Mariah watched and listened critically as Roger joined in stroking Jukebox.

  "Camp Bristlecone has horses, remember?" he said.

  "It doesn't mean I want to go there."

  "You wanted to when we left Denver."

  She grew tearful. "Why won't you listen? I changed my mind."

  "We've been through this, Caitlyn. It costs thousands of dollars. We can't get our money back. It's only for three weeks. You chose it, remember? You begged us. Now you have to honor your decision."

  Caitlyn buried her face in Jukebox's mane. "Don't make me go, Dad. Please."

  "Caitlyn--"

  "I'll do chores, get baby-sitting jobs to pay for it…"

  "You made a commitment, sweetheart. That's our rule. You have to try it for at least a week. If you still feel the same way then as you do now…"

  "Stop!" Hands to her face, she stumbled away, sobbing. Roger corralled her, bringing her close to his chest. She rested her forehead against him, agitated, crying, forlorn yet defiant.

  "Why can't you understand?" she cried.

  Roger looked at Mariah over Caitlyn's head. "Can you help her?"

  Caitlyn reared back, shaking her head. "You need to help him," she said, indicating her dad. "Tell him to take me home."

  Mariah laid her hand on Caitlyn's shoulder. "Let's drive back to Grizzly Springs. We'll get this sorted out, come to a decision everybody can live with."

  "No, I want to go home!" Caitlyn stomped off, heading for the SUV.

  "Sorry," Roger said, rubbing his neck in frustration. "She's not usually like this. Of all my daughters, she's the steady one, the smart one. Doesn't sweat the small stuff. I don't understand what's wrong."

  Mariah pursed her lips, intent on problem-solving. "Can we get her mother involved?"

  "Lisa talked to Caitlyn last night. It's the same thing, over and over. 'I don't wanna go. I don't wanna go.' She won't listen."

  Mariah considered Jukebox. "She likes the horse. Shane's established a rapport with her. Maybe he can get through, get her to at least look at the camp. She may find it's worth checking out."

  Shane scratched his head. "I'm not a miracle worker. Isn't this what thirteen year-old girls do?"

  Roger agreed. "I'm about ready to hog-tie her myself, drag her to camp and let the people there deal with her."

  "Does she have friends there?" Mariah asked.

  "No, she's a first timer. I was so proud of her, wanting to come here and participate in this science program, even though she doesn't know a soul."

  "Has she done that before?" asked Mariah. "Gone places far from home and done things on her own?"

  "Sure she has. She likes to challenge herself. We've always encouraged it. Caitlyn's been through some tough times in her life. She's strong, stronger than most girls her age."

  "Tough times? Explain."

  "She was in a car accident when she was three. Oil tanker jackknifed, creamed our car. We got out okay but a fire broke out. Took just a few extra seconds to unbuckle her car seat but she got burned, one of her arms, especially bad."

  "She was hospitalized?"

  "Two months. We thought we might lose her from smoke inhalation. Then it was the burns, infection from the skin grafts. Seven operations since then, five on her hand alone. Doctors saved it but it took some doing."

  "Having a disfigured hand doesn't bother her?"

  "Not at all. She'll show you. She doesn't mind. We've treated her normal, like she's the same as everybody else. No excuses, no coddling. She's not some poor handicapped girl who can't live the life she was meant for. We didn't even mention it on the camp application. All it does is give people pre-conceived notions. They think they have to treat her differently but they don't. Her arm might look bad, but she can make what's left of it work any way she needs to. Never complains, even if kids at school tease her. She knows how to handle herself."

  "You must be very proud of her."

  "You bet. She's our superstar. I don't call her that in front of our other kids, but I've told her privately. She understands how special she is."

  "Yes, I'm sure she does." Too special, maybe, Mariah thought. She shared a significant glance with Shane. "You’re the one with the best relationship with her at the moment. I'm going to need your help. How long before we can expect you home?"

  "Two hours at most."

  "Call or text me when you're on your way. Meanwhile, Roger, you and I are going to hang out with Caitlyn, calm her down, get her to focus on something else. No more discussions about camp for the time being."

  "You're the expert," said Roger. "I sure as shit don't know what to do." He didn't look happy as he headed for the SUV.

  Shane kissed Maria
h goodbye. "I hope you know what you're doing," he said.

  "I was a teen-aged girl once. It certainly gives me an edge over the two of you."

  Mariah took the time to comb his hair with her fingers, relishing the feel of the sun on the top of his head. Usually, in public, she kept her hands to herself. Usually he had his hat on. "Let's plan on an interlude today, after we're done with the Cahills."

  "Interlude? Trying to show off with your big words?"

  She winked. "X-rated. Need I say more?"

  He drew her close. "Hell, no. You're speaking my language. But how long will it take to fix this thing between Caitlyn and her dad?"

  "Whatever this mysterious condition of hers is, I'll get to the bottom of it. I may invite them into the house. It's private and would be more conducive to getting her to talk. Would that be okay with you?"

  "I don't give a damn either way, Miz Scarlett. Long as I have an interlude coming, Rhett Butler will agree to anything."

  * * * * *

  After Shane left, Mariah approached her SUV. Roger had stationed himself outside while Caitlyn was inside, sitting in the backseat, hunched over her phone while appearing no worse for wear. Her resiliency was a good sign, but it made her decision to take off all the more confusing

  Mariah motioned for Roger to get in. She slid into the driver's seat and used her peripheral vision to scope out Caitlyn. The storm clouds of emotions had cleared. She was texting, half smiling, her good hand poised over the keyboard, typing lightning fast with all five fingers. Mariah could see the thumb and forefinger of the other hand, hooked around the phone like a two-pronged claw. The rest of her fingers were missing, showing nothing but a knob of flesh that led into a stick-like wrist. The rest of the arm was covered by her sleeve but it was clear the damage was extensive.

  Her two fingers had retained full dexterity, though. It was probably why they'd saved the hand rather than amputate and have her use a prosthetic. Her functionality was good, better than what could be achieved artificially.

  Roger fastened his seatbelt. "Caitlyn, show Mariah your arm, will you?"

  Caitlyn dropped the phone in her lap and rolled up the sleeve of her sweatshirt. She thrust her damaged hand and bared arm in front of Mariah, revealing a normal bicep and elbow but a withered forearm with ripples of red scars amid old white ones, deformed by missing muscle, as narrow as her wrist. "Can we get something to eat? I'm starved."

  Roger snorted. "If you had stayed in the hotel, you could have had free breakfast. Me, too."

  Mariah started the engine and steered the SUV eastward, heading for Grizzly Springs. "How about a trip to the ice cream parlor? There's a great one called the Sweet Shoppe off of Main Street."

  Caitlyn withdrew her arm and went back to her phone, scowling. "We went there yesterday. Dad tried to bribe me to go to camp with ice cream. Like I was a baby."

  He side-whispered to Mariah. "Ice cream is out. I don't want to reward bad behavior."

  "Da-ad! I'm sitting right here! You're embarrassing me!"

  Roger muttered under his breath while Mariah drummed the steering wheel. "How about Mexican food? It makes for a quick lunch. Then we can meet Shane at the stables and he'll give you a tour. He's owns more horses like Jukebox. If you want to ride..."

  "You can't bribe me, either. I like Mexican food, then it will be time for me to go home."

  Fortunately, Roger got the hint.

  "Mexican food it is."

  Caitlyn looked smugly out the window. Mariah switched on the radio to ameliorate the tension and fill the silence between them.

  * * * * *

  By the time Shane drove his empty rig into the KSY Stables parking lot, Mariah had formed a plan in her mind. Problem was, she had three people she had to convince to go along with it: Shane, Caitlyn and Roger, in that order.

  They were standing with Mariah at the end of the stable block, where Shane shared an office with his business manager, Ana Garcia, who ran the virtual and accounting side of Shane's KSY ranch and stable, trail rides, and breeding and training operation.

  "Ana, I have to speak to Shane for a minute. Could you show Caitlyn the foaling barn? Show her what a pregnant mare looks like."

  As a mother of two teen-aged girls and Mariah's best friend, Ana knew what to say to pique Caitlyn's interest. "Jukebox has a sister. Would you like to see her?"

  Caitlyn could be very agreeable when properly motivated.

  Mariah met Shane at the door of the snack room that adjoined his office. He was crunching on a handful of trail mix. "Well, Doc? What's the diagnosis?"

  "She's not suffering from a disorder, if that's what you're asking. It's more a combination of factors; a girl coming of age, learning who she is." Mariah described Caitlyn's early childhood injury, finishing with her parents' efforts to encourage Caitlyn, whatever the challenge. "It's hard for Caitlyn to put her thought process into words but I think I know what the problem is. If I'm right, your help is definitely needed."

  "Sounds like a tall order. I'll do what I can."

  "You know those wrappings that you put on your horses' forelegs? What are they for?"

  Shane rubbed his jaw. That came from out of nowhere. "Protects from injuries mostly. Supports ligaments. What are you thinking?"

  "Some wrappers look like the protective casts that are used to mobilize a broken arm. Do you think you have the right materials to create a similar look for Caitlyn? I want it to look like she's wearing a regular cast on her arm, like you'd see on someone who's broken a wrist or a bone on her forearm. The cast needs to wrap around her hand and cover her wrist up to the elbow, without interfering with her ability to use her fingers."

  Shane considered Mariah for a moment before his blue eyes gleamed with understanding. "I think I get where you're going with this. You want her to look as normal as possible. No scars, just a regular arm that's temporarily out of commission, nothing that folks will see and feel sorry about. Not sure if I can make it work, though. You want an arm cast that will last for the time she's at camp: three weeks. It has to withstand her participation in various group activities. I can mix some stiffeners and binding agents in the layers of wrap but if she gets it wet over and over again…"

  "I'll make sure she understands she has to treat it like any other cast. People at the camp will support that if the cast looks real."

  "It will look real. I'll make sure of it. But I'm still worried. What if something unforeseen happens? What if it gets ruined? I don't want Caitlyn upset like she was today. She might run away again."

  "I think I can get around that. Roger can make me his local contact for minor medical problems. Caitlyn can phone me if the cast starts falling apart. I'll drive her here and we'll go through making another cast again. To her camp counselors, it will look like I took her to the doctor to get it fixed."

  Shane rocked back on his boot heels as if blown away, gazing at Mariah in wonder. "Sherlock Holmes, I think you've thought of everything."

  "I'm simply a master of disguise, a small town Private Eye doing her job."

  "You're a heckuva psychologist is what I'm thinking. But what if Caitlyn won't go for it?"

  "She'll be no worse off than she is now. It really is up to her. I'll speak to her privately, see if I can get her to agree. If she does, Roger will agree, too. What he wants is to get her to the camp. Once she realizes she'll be seen as a girl with a broken arm rather than one with a permanent disability, I think she'll start feeling more comfortable. She needs people to see her as she really is, not feel sorry for her or think she's a saint because she manages life well. It's three weeks of being with other girls her age, girls who don't know her story, girls who will see her the way she sees herself, no better or worse than anybody else. Plus there's the simple pleasure of being on vacation for awhile, getting away from those pesky parents. Teenagers need that experience as well."

  * * * * *

  The entrance to Camp Bristlecone was at the end of a mile long, winding, bumpy dirt road. It looked l
ike it led to the middle of nowhere. But as the camp buildings and layout came into view, Mariah could understand why it had such a good reputation. It was rustic, yes, but the small log cabins looked well-kept. There was a main house overlooking the cabins and throughout the grounds, there were gaggles of girls in small groups, girls Caitlyn's age, interacting easily with each other. All were involved in various activities, four or five girls for every uniformed counselor.

  Kayaks lined the shore of the lake. A water instructor sat in one, demonstrating paddling technique. There was an open air pavilion where two real-live bald eagles roosted on pedestals. A uniformed Forest Ranger was speaking on a mike, detailing facts about endangered species. A woman wearing several cameras around her neck was pointing at enlarged photographs on easels, picturing animals in the wild.

  "What do you think, Caitlyn?" Mariah asked, rolling down the windows of the SUV.

  "Am I the last one to arrive?" Her voice sounded anxious.

  "No, I checked," Mariah said. "There's one other girl who can't get here until tonight. I called ahead to let your counselors know we were on the way."

  Roger exited the SUV and opened Caitlyn's door. "I think I see a couple of counselors in Bristlecone uniforms waving at us."

  Mariah stayed in the car with Caitlyn. "I bet those are your resident leaders. There are two for each cabin."

  Caitlyn set her jaw and spoke quietly. "If this thing is going to work, I want to try it on them first."

  "That's my girl." Roger opened her car door wider. "You're about to embark on the adventure of a lifetime."

  Caitlyn rolled her eyes but scrambled out like she'd gathered her courage. Mariah joined her and raised the rear hatch where Caitlyn's gear was stored. A silver-haired woman in khakis was trotting towards them, waving a clipboard and sheaf of papers.

  Mariah signaled Roger, nodding in the woman's direction. "Time to sign the medical release, Roger."

  He cocked a speculative eye at Caitlyn. "Well? What do you think? You're not going to run away again, are you?"

  "Da-ad! They'll hear you! Of course not! Sheesh."

  Mariah bit her lip to maintain her composure. She felt like she was watching the sitcom Daddy Dearest or Father Knows Best. "Caitlyn," she said blandly. "Would you help me and your dad unload your luggage?"