Saddled (The Stables Trilogy #3)

by Penny Lam

  There were two blondes, one tall and one short, and a single redhead. It was hard to see them, even though they came with a different goal in mind. They were trying to be sold at the end, whereas Maple desperately needed to convince J.B. to keep her.

  Jones gathered them together. Their bags were taken and he led them, empty handed and questioning, to the stable. The stoic cowboy avoided looking in Maple’s direction. She was glad for it.

  It had been a terribly awkward announcement when they’d returned from New Mexico. J.B. said little, and it was obvious from his tone he was pissed off at her. But he told the staff that she no longer worked for the ranch. He told them she’d be entering as a pony. And he told everyone that, under no circumstances, were they to hint at or disclose that she’d previously worked for J.B.

  It was difficult to retain an air of mystery. She was so comfortable at the ranch that she almost missed the fact that she was at ease while walking to the new stable, while the new girls were rubber-necking, taking in all of the ranch.

  It was the very end of winter, and the staff was comfortable in long sleeved shirts and jeans. The women, on the other hand, were dressed well in elegant suits and high heels with pointed toes. Those heels were wobbling in the dirt, unsure on the rough terrain. It made them look a lot like the foals that they metaphorically were.

  Inside the stable, J.B. was waiting. Dressed in a suit, but no tie, he cut a dashing and dangerous figure. Maple rarely saw him in anything but jeans and a button down shirt. Seeing him clean shaven and so well dressed was a surprise -- and a turn on. He didn’t look at her as she and the girls stumbled in and lined up.

  Jones left and her time as a pony began.

  “All of you have applied for place in my stable,” he began. “You signed an agreement, paid the down payment, and now you are here to be trained.” J.B. paced back and forth in front of them.

  Maple’s shoulders were drawn in, though not nearly as tight as the women around her. Their nervousness was infectious, radiating out and wrapping all of them up like a lasso.

  This would be their home for the next six months. While Maple had spent time in it, she understood now how different a building could become when it was, essentially, home. The exposed rafters seemed less airy and more like bars on a cage. This was a cage she’d willingly stepped into.

  Maple noticed that the stable had gone through a thorough cleaning and there was a subtle hint of disinfectant under the fresh smells of hay and leather. It had been scrubbed and made ready for them, a clean start.

  J.B.’s boot heels struck loud and hard on the concrete.

  “Today will be easy,” he said, his voice gentle. “I am an efficient and ruthless trainer. I will hold you to the highest expectations, but today I want to give you a little time to consider, one last time, whether or not you are committed to this process.” He stopped in front of one of the blondes. “What is your name?”

  She smiled and tossed her hair over her shoulder as if she were meeting a blind date for the first time. “My name is Lexy,” she flirted.

  His face hardened. “Well, Lexy, time for your interview. Follow me. Everyone else, choose your stall. It will be yours for the duration of your time with me.”

  “What, like this is camp, and we're picking a bunk?” The redhead joked, her voice lilting and unsure. Maple flinched. She knew what that kind of response had earned in the past.

  Her worry, for the moment, was unwarranted. “If that's what you want to pretend,” J.B. replied, but Maple heard the underlying threat. He was luring them in. Surely they had to know what was coming?

  “After your interviews with me, you are not permitted to speak. Start practicing now, because any infraction and you’re out of here. Consider this your only warning.”

  The not-so-subtle reminder of what they were there to become wiped the anxious smiles off the women's faces. Maple looked away. She’d be amused if the memory of Rachel wasn’t skating so closely through her mind.

  J.B. grabbed Lexy by her elbow and escorted her outside

  When they were alone, the women fell into whispered introductions. Maple avoided them, picking the stall closest to the stable door and furthest from the grooming area. She knew from her experience that those closest to the grooming area were forced to listen to each pony getting groomed late into the night.

  There was more privacy with distance. Besides, she didn’t have the same goals as the other girls. She needed space and solitude to focus on her training.

  Maple knew what to expect in the stall. It felt smaller, though, now that it was her home. Her pad of hay was fluffed and clean, the buckets for water and waste waiting. A small trough for her food. Her fingers ran over the table, covered in tack. A brand new bit. This she picked up, testing the give of its rubber and the girth of it. There was the bridle to hold it in place, and reins.

  The softened leather straps of the body harness lay in a tangle. It would be indiscernible if she didn’t already know what it was for. Her fingertips smoothed over its velvet-worn surfaces, the metal of its buckles cold and hard in contrast.

  A brush. Some folded blankets.

  These were her things, the only things she could call her own, for the next six months.

  Some part of her wondered if she shouldn't talk to the girls ,make introductions, use up the last few hours in which she was allowed to speak. Instead she found herself already falling into the silent headspace that she knew would be her companion.

  It felt clean and safe, descending into the soft recesses of her own mind.

  That is, until her old and worrying tendencies fought to find a chink and slither in. Maple chewed her lip as that voice, that familiar and criticizing voice, invaded her new home. This was a terrible plan, it said. You knew it, everyone tried to warn you, and yet you insisted. All you’ll gain is pain.

  The voice began to morph, catching Maple off guard. It grew a face. No longer Tony with his cruel, belligerent tone. This one was far worse. She visualized Rachel’s long, black hair and cruel smile. You can’t possibly think he’ll want you after this.

  Maple dug deep to blot out the voice and keep herself shielded.

  A large banging at the stable door disrupted her inner struggle. Maple peered out of her stall and saw the other girls huddled together. The doors flung open, and Raúl stormed in with a very tall brunette beside him. She was looking at her feet, hair falling forward and covering her face.

  Looking frustrated, he asked Maple “Is J.B. in here?” Something had to be wrong because he was completely disregarding the fact that she was supposed to stay incognito.

  She shook her head. She didn’t have to try hard to look confused. “No, he’s with Lexy. Interviewing?”

  “Fuck,” Raúl spat, and Maple raised an eyebrow. He swung the brunette in front of him. “Stay here until we get this figured out.” He released the woman’s arm and ran back out of the stable, shutting the doors hard behind him.

  The blonde and the redhead immediately ran to the brunette and began introductions. Maple stood to the side, nervous and confused. She knew the orderly way J.B. maintained his ranch. This newcomer was disrupting that.

  It was curious and worrisome. In the lower stable light, the woman’s hair shone closer to black than brown. It fell in voluminous curls, and as she lifted her face, it parted in shining waves to reveal--

  Maple gasped, her mouth making an ‘o’ of horror. The woman’s fine cheekbones and pale skin were elegant and startlingly lovely. Her eyes were vibrant and green. Every feature of hers was gorgeous, and all of them were creepily close to J.B.’d dead wife.

  Chapter Three

  It was as if Rachel had joined Maple in the stable, wedging herself into Maple’s already precarious plans.

  Maple struggled to control her ragged breaths as the brunette beauty broke away from the other giggling women and tentatively approached her.

  “Hello,” she said, her smile warming. “I didn’t think I’d be making such an awful entran
ce.”

  Maple felt the blood drain from her face but strove to steel herself. “They weren’t expecting you?”

  The other woman shook her head. “I guess not. I mean, I missed the deadline, but it seemed like everything else was in order. So I decided to show up. Better to ask forgiveness than permission, you know?” She giggled like she and Maple were friends, like they were conspiring, and all Maple could do was swallow back the bile that kept rising in her throat.

  “Well, we’re just picking stalls and waiting for him to speak with us individually.” Maple’s voice was thin and small. The woman clapped, delighted, like she was about to go on an adventure instead of be stripped, whipped, and trained for the next few months.

  “Great, which one is yours?” Maple nodded. She was still standing at her stall door, so it would have been stupid to try and lie. Rachel-look-alike smiled, her white teeth flashing, and patted the stall next to Maple’s. “Guess we’ll be neighbors, then!”

  When Maple couldn’t think of a response, the woman stepped closer. “I’m Brie. That’s Justine and Katie, though you’ve probably already introduced yourself.” There was a hint of malice there, Maple thought, but then frowned. I’m making her into something she’s not.

  Brie wasn’t Rachel. She wasn’t an enemy, or there to thwart Maple’s plans. She just resembled J.B.’s ex, and that was unfortunate for Maple, but not Brie’s fault. So she wasn’t scolding or mocking Maple for not making friends, she was just assuming. “No, I didn’t. I’m Maple. J.B.--Mr. Deyton-- said we’re going to be silent after today. I was just, I don’t know… getting ready for it.”

  “Well, we’ll be together all this time. Might as well get to know each other while we can!”

  The other women, Katie and Justine, approached. Maple realized she was twisting her fingers together, an old nervous habit. Had it been like this for the ponies before? Had they been friends? Maple didn’t think so. There may have been some camaraderie over the shared experience, but in the end-- each ponygirl needed to look out for herself. So what did these women think was happening?

  Before they could wade further into introductions, J.B. came storming in. His anger led the way, barrelling into all four women, knocking them back a step.

  “Who the fuck are you?” He thundered as he stormed over to Brie. Maple saw his eyes widen as he looked at the woman. No doubt he also saw the resemblance to Rachel. His skin paled a bit, but he didn’t lose the momentum he’d entered with.

  Brie was tall, but even she shrank into insignificance next to his seething frame. “I’m here for--”

  “You applied too late. I didn’t accept you for this round.”

  Brie teetered in her heels, trying to stand a little taller. “I don’t have time to wait until the next round, Mr. Deyton.”

  Raúl had been trailing on J.B’s heels. “I’m sorry, J.B., she sounded so sure, I thought you’d made an exception.”

  J.B. shook his head, asking wryly, “Do I ever make exceptions to rules?”

  The thing that Maple loved about Raúl, though, was while he worked for J.B., he refused to be cowed by him. He was his own man, not someone J.B. could just push around. They had a work-friendship thing going on that was more co-dependent than anything else. So he didn’t blush or apologize again. Instead, Raúl glanced at Maple and said, “Yes. You do.”

  His point wasn’t missed. Maple blushed and stared at the ground. She didn’t want the other girls to know she’d worked for J.B. She’d broken so many of his rules, and he’d made exceptions for her each time.

  J.B. scowled. “You’re coming with me,” he demanded, grabbing Brie’s elbow and dragging her back out of the stable. Lexy tiptoed in, looking frightened. She must have witnessed J.B.’s initial rage.

  Raúl and Maple shared a look. Neither of them understood what was happening, but one thing was for sure: J.B. wasn’t happy about it.

  He ran his stable like he ran his ranch: Tight, disciplined, and with no mistakes.

  Brie, whoever she was, was a mistake.

  In her heart, despite Brie’s warmth, Maple hoped that J.B. sent her home. It was a petty wish, and she knew it.

  But Brie’s resemblance to Rachel hit too close to home. Maple felt ruffled, stretched thin. It was like all of the world was trying to prove what a bad idea this was.

  ...so why couldn’t she quit?

  They returned hours later. The day was getting long, the sky turning golden and crimson. Brie looked pacified, but she was still there. J.B. grabbed Katie and left again, his face betraying no emotion.

  Brie settled in next to Maple’s stall.

  “You’re staying?”

  “Yes. For an extra fee and a hefty scolding. I didn’t earn any favors, I guess.”

  “Well, at least you’re here.” It sounded rude, cynical to Maple’s ears, but Brie didn’t react like she’d heard it.

  There was a rustling, and before Maple could stand from her pallet, Brie came into her stall and plopped down.

  “Did you think he was going to kick me out?”

  I’d hoped so. “I don’t know. He seemed super pissed.”

  “Oh, he was. Livid. He’s super sexy, don’t you think? I love angry men. All smoldering and fierce.”

  Just like that. Just like they were two girls gossipping over a boy in class. It rubbed Maple the wrong way. Envy infused her every cell. Who did this girl think she was? She just waltzed in, bought her place, and now had the audacity to call J.B. hot?

  “Well he’s off the market, I’m sure,” Maple replied, hissing a little.

  Brie didn’t pick up on it. She kept chattering, talking about how tall J.B. was, and how his dark curls were divine, and how was she going to be able to stand being naked in front of him? and did you see his eyes? Two colors!

  Of course I’ve seen his eyes! Maple thought with rage. I’ve seen them light up as he comes inside of me, you bitch!

  The anger was new for Maple, and it was ugly. She hated the way it charred her, welling up and taking space. Brie was trying to be nice, she couldn’t know Maple’s past or goals. But Maple couldn’t understand how this, this, this one time she was trying so hard to be a better person-- why was everything going wrong?

  They say God only gives you what you can handle, but Maple wasn’t sure that was true in her case. She thought someone had played a joke on her, had scratched out the line that said “too much” and so shit just kept getting piled on, heavier and heavier.

  She couldn’t handle it. Not now. Not after everything else.

  It wasn’t that she felt like she was owed a happy ending. Maple knew she wasn’t owed anything. But she was trying, goddamnit! She was trying to be better, to shirk the victim and the poor choices and those twisted demons inside of her. She was trying to earn it.

  So she squeezed her eyes shut so Brie wouldn’t see her roll them as she went on and on about J.B. It also helped her squeeze out the image of the leggy brunette in her skin-tight black sheath dress. Maple had never even owned a dress like that.

  When Brie not only kept rambling about J.B., but started to push Maple for details and opinions, Maple snapped. “He’s a professional trainer, Brie. He never dates his stock.” It was the same line everyone had been using on her to convince her to stop. The words tasted bitter.

  “That sounds like a challenge,” Brie laughed. “I just want a wealthy man. He’s wealthier than most, and now that I’ve seen how hot he is to boot… why shoot low?”

  “You’ll just shoot yourself,” Maple muttered.

  Brie stood, her mouth twisting into a thin smile. “I get what I want, Maple. Always.”

  The words sent a chill down Maple’s spine. She met Brie’s gaze head on and hated what she saw there-- a lurking suspicion and dislike that made the woman’s vibrant green eyes roil like turbulent waters. Maple’s brows pressed together, and her lip caught between teeth before the stable door slamming open broke their showdown.

  What had just happened? One moment Brie had been coz
ying up to her, plying her for information and girl-talk. The next…

  The next she’d looked at Maple like prey. A look too close to the predatory one of Rachel Deyton’s portrait.

  Maple didn’t believe in ghosts, or superstition, but she waivered as she considered this omen.

  “Maple, let’s go,” J.B. barked.

  She scrambled off her hay pallet and went to him, her mind too warped to decide what to do other than follow his order.

  Chapter Four

  When they entered J.B.'s office, Maple was riddled with doubt. Each hiccup from the day had turned into a bullet, striking her at the core of her hopes.