Saddled (The Stables Trilogy #3)

by Penny Lam

  She slithered to the door, sticking to the walls in case Brie pushed her way back in too soon. She approached the open doorway with caution. Her palms were sweating and her heart was racing. Every muscle was primed, ready to run or fight.

  With care, she peeked out the open sliver, thankful for the full moonlight that illuminated the stark landscape in a wash of silver.

  Brie was running, full out, toward the other stable. The one with the horses.

  Maple cowered. She shouldn’t step out and follow. If they were caught…

  Let her go. She won't get far, and she'll be out of your hair for good.

  It was truly tempting. Probably the right thing to do. But as Brie slipped into the other stable, Maple’s mind went to the horses. What if her warning about the auction had scared Brie into fleeing? Was she planning on stealing a horse? Even with moonlight, it was too dark for riding. It was just asking for a broken leg.

  No matter which horse Brie saddled and stole, it would kill Maple knowing she could have stopped it. She didn’t know if she could get to J.B. and the others before the worst happened. Those horses, each one, was like family. She refused to let them be hurt or even killed by that horrible woman.

  Leaving the comfort and safety of the stable, she ran, as quietly as she could, to follow Brie. Slowing just before she came to the stable. Maple plastered her body to the side, her breath ragged and aching. She was yet again thankful for J.B.'s training. All the running and endurance was paying off in unexpected ways.

  She snuck to the door to listen. If Brie tried to saddle a horse, Maple would scream and then attack. She’d probably get hurt, but that didn’t worry her nearly as much as the thought of Brie getting away.

  Instead of hearing one of the animals being saddled, Brie’s muffled voice floated out. It was impossible to decipher what she was saying, but she was obviously speaking with someone. Her whispered words were clipped. Frantic.

  Maple dared to creep closer, peeking in. Brie’s figure was cut against the shadows, her hand pressed to her ear. A phone! She had a phone. How in the hell she managed that, Maple wasn’t sure, but she was almost impressed with the brunette’s ingenuity.

  The conversation got heated and Brie cursed, louder, before starting to hurl the phone. Instead, she caught herself and grabbed a stray apple instead, chucking it hard at the door that Maple was pressed to.

  Hand clamped across her mouth, Maple hunkered back, terrified she’d been caught. But there were no accusations hurled or bodily attacks. Instead, there was more shuffling, this time too close by to safely peek.

  Moving silently, she made her way back around the side of the stable. Just in time, too. Brie darted back out, locking up.

  Her tall, nude figure jogged back to the stable where Maple should be, asleep and unaware. Bouncing on the balls of her feet, Maple was torn. She knew she should run, fast as she could, to J.B. and tell him everything. Stop whatever was happening with Brie once and for all.

  Except… she’d need proof. The phone. If J.B. and the guys hadn’t found it by now, what chance did she have in the dark? Reece’s unfair warnings warred in her-- J.B. was being stupid now, he’d said. Did that mean Maple’s word wouldn’t count anymore? Would she really just be digging her own grave with her accusations?

  Fuck! What was going on? And what was she supposed to do about it?

  She’d have to go back. Keep a close eye on Brie. The next time try and find the phone. It would give her all the proof she needed.

  There was more to it, she felt it in her bones. There was, weaving in with her hesitation, a small hope. One where she was able to save J.B. Save the day. If she did this on her own, she’d no longer be a damsel in distress. She’d have proven herself. A stronger, more resilient Maple. One who’d changed.

  One who was worthy of J.B.

  As she thought all this over, Brie disappeared into the stable.

  And Maple became horribly aware of why she shouldn’t have followed Brie the way that she had.

  In that soft moonlight, she watched Brie’s hand stick back through the door. Maple’s heart dropped and she took off at a run.

  She didn’t make it in time. She wasn’t even halfway to the door when Brie managed to snap the lock shut.

  Maple was locked out.

  Dawn didn’t come soon enough for Maple. Curled into herself, she hovered by the door of the stable. Each new ray from the sun cast a knife into her heart. Sure enough, she saw Raúl first, coming out to get horses ready for everyone to start their day.

  When he caught sight of her, she couldn’t avoid the emotions that skirted across his face: confusion, fear, worry… and anger.

  He settled on anger as he jogged to her, his eyes darting around, making sure no one saw them.

  “What the hell are you doing out here, Maple?” Mutely, she couldn’t help but notice he called her by her name and not the affectionate ‘Belleza’ he normally used. Because she was still a pony, and determined to prove it despite everything, she said nothing.

  He moved to help her up, but in his haste it turned into a sharp yank. Maple found herself stumbling, clinging to him to keep from tumbling over again.

  “He. will. hurt. you!” Raúl growled through gritted teeth. “How did you even get out!?” When she was stable, he grabbed the lock and tugged-- it was still tightly bolted. Anguish twisted his features. “Let’s get you inside now!”

  He fumbled with the key, finally shoving it in and turning it. The heavy bolt fell open, and Maple found herself ushered into her stall. Not before Brie saw her, a look of surprise and then hateful understanding dashing Maple’s hopes of going unknown. Well, two could play at that-- Maple knew part of Brie’s secret now.

  Once in her stall, Raúl glared at her. “This can never happen again, Maple. Got that? I can’t cover for you, and I can’t always be there for you.” He stormed out, and Maple heard a cruel snicker behind her.

  “So you think you know something?” Brie hissed. “I will bury you now, Bitch.”

  Maple turned and glared, not giving Brie the satisfaction of hearing her speak again. She did, however, wonder where Brie had come from. And where all the animosity stemmed from. So far as Maple could recall, all she’d done was not be overly friendly at the start.

  Why was the other woman so dead-set on getting Maple in trouble? And why was she sneaking out in the middle of the night?

  Maple didn’t have too much time to glare back at Brie. The stable door banged open, flinging and slamming itself into the stable wall as J.B. stormed in. He looked angry, but, Maple sighed, that was sort of his default look.

  One she still, even now, thought was irresistibly sexy.

  She held her breath, unsure. Raúl had obviously tried to slip her back into the stable unnoticed. But he was the same person who’d told on her when she’d groomed Bane against J.B.’s explicit orders.

  But when J.B. simply barked at them to get their ‘pony asses’ out of their stalls for cart-pulling, she exhaled, relief flooding her system.

  Maple hadn’t been caught, which was good.

  But she was left with a host of questions and worries, and that made her feel very, very concerned.

  “This is the last session,” Reece said. Maple appreciated that he sounded genuinely saddened by it. “I’ve been dragging it out, if I’m honest.”

  Maple smiled and stamped once. She knew. This was the fifth day of posing in J.B.’s studio for Reece. His friendly banter and paint-smudged face had been good for her. Despite his smarmy, aggressive ways, Maple found he was truly a good friend.

  It brought her no small amount of mirth to see him fend off J.B. each day, shielding the trainer from the painting. Maple hadn’t seen it, either. When she thought about it, about what Reece was trying to do for her, her stomach knotted until she felt sick.

  “He’s still speaking as if he’ll take you for sale,” he sighed, eyes focused intensely as his brush smoothed over canvas. “But don’t worry,” he added before she could
crumple, “I think it’s for show. And when he sees this--” another flourish of the brush, “he’ll be unable to resist you. Hell, I’m hardly able to resist you.”

  Maple felt her cheeks flush. Reece somehow managed to help her keep one foot in the human world and one foot firmly in her pony-state. It made her feel, well, powerful. And feminine. She couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes lit up when she’d stamp an answer to a question, or sit carefully, her legs folding under her.

  “There.” The word was colored with finality. “Come look.”

  Biting her lip, she cautiously stepped over to him. Her movements were stiff but delicate, her body having grown more accustomed to modeling.

  Maple’s hand flew over her mouth, catching her delighted gasp.

  The painting was stunning. He’d kept the same dark tones of his other work. The canvas was black, thick and textured. He’d painted her half-hidden, her face shadowed as she gazed out from the canvas. There was a look on her face he’d captured brilliantly, one of hopeful longing. It was as if Maple was stepping into the black and begging the viewer to follow her.

  Instead of painting her a willing slave, he’d painted her as someone strong and fierce, her vulnerability an asset instead of a flaw.

  “There, there,” Reece murmured as he brushed his handkerchief across her cheeks. “I’m glad you like it.”

  Oh, how she wanted to speak. Now more than ever before. Maple didn’t like that it was so easy for her to keep secrets, especially ones like Brie. But now she found it was close to impossible to keep in joy. It billowed and flapped inside of her, a sail insisting on being cast out and into the wind.

  It was breaking the rules but… but not quite. She grabbed a nearby pen and his sketchbook and hastily scrawled Thank you. Reece read over her shoulder.

  “Of course. It wasn’t easy, you know.” Maple turned at the drop in his voice, her eyebrow raised. Reece reached out and tucked an errant strand of her hair behind an ear. She shivered at his touch and heard his sharp intake of breath. “Jesus,” he moaned. “You truly are perfection. I thought I’d paint for J.B., to prove to him that he’s a stubborn mule.” He stepped away from her, his hand falling. “But I finished it for you. You are so exquisitely tortured, Maple. I promise you, if J.B. can’t see it… I do. I do, and I’ll be here for you.”

  She smiled softly and stamped. It surprised her to discover a small amount of pity for Reece. The painting spoke, ever so gently, of coveted longing. She knew too well what it was to love someone and never know if they’d offer love in return.

  There was a small amount of time and, having already bent the rules, Maple anchored herself to bend them some more.

  Now she had people to protect. Not just J.B., but Reece, and Raúl, and everyone at the ranch. Something about Brie’s tenacious cruelty and sneaking out felt too close to a threat. Not just to her, personally. Maple was certain Brie was trying to hurt J.B. and she wouldn’t let that happen.

  She jotted another hurried message on the pad. What did Brie say to you?

  Reece frowned. “Maple, this is a dangerous game you’re playing. Besides, you know ponies don’t speak.”

  I don’t play games, Reece. Not with this much on the line. And I KNOW she spoke to you.

  He smirked, but his eyes remained troubled. “She got on her hands and knees to suck me off.”

  Did you let her?

  “Does it matter?”

  Maple made a face at him, furious. How did nobody see how treacherous Brie was? But he was right, that part didn’t really matter. Besides, it irritated her how delighted Reece seemed to be at her seeming jealousy.

  She rolled her eyes. Did she SAY anything?

  “She asked a bunch of questions about J.B.” He frowned. “Not much unlike you. Why?”

  Maple chewed her lip. I get a bad feeling about her. She debated telling him about the late night escape and phone call, but Reece, while a friend, was still Reece. He liked to stir the pot just because he could. Maple didn’t trust him not to run to J.B., and she still had no proof. This was a card she needed to keep close the her chest.

  He shook his head. “You don’t seem the jealous type.” It was sweet and completely untrue. She was definitely the jealous type. It had almost killed her when working in the stables to see J.B. nurture and train the other girls. With Brie, though? Not the case. “You don’t have to worry about her. J.B. might see a lot of Rachel in her, but I doubt he’s harboring anything more than a painful crush.”

  Maple knew he was trying to make her feel better. Each word, though, was a blow to the gut, leaving her choked and breathless. A crush? J.B. had obviously spoken to Reece about Brie, too, which hurt more than anything else.

  Dashing the tears from her eyes before they fell, she gave Reece a smile and a quick nuzzle. He was trying to help, in his own way. It wasn’t his fault that he’d just made everything feel so much worse.

  He sensed it, though, and patted her hair. “Hey, stable girl, chin up. He’s been calling around. Asking about your asshole ex and that guy, Gus. He wouldn’t be following up on them if he didn’t care.”

  Maple’s heart froze and her eyebrows pressed tight together. Why was J.B. looking into Tony? More importantly, Maple worried, what would he find out? Tony had joked about how she’d been used in the past by him in front of J.B., but there hadn’t been any specifics.

  There was a knock, and then J.B. let himself in. Maple trotted to him before he could see her painting, allowing Reece time to cover it with a sheet.

  “It’s done?” He asked briskly.

  “Yep.”

  “You like it?” To Maple. She stamped once. Yes, she loved it. She just wasn’t sure if it would be enough anymore.

  In no time she was buckled back into her reins, being led to the stable. Each step was heavy.

  Chapter Fourteen

  He meandered again, slowing his pace for her on the way back. Maple tried to find hope in that, but it was almost impossible. Her mind was warring with itself, trying to weave a pattern of sense between the threads of what Reece had told her, what Brie might want, the dead wife, and what Maple wanted.

  Before he led her outside, J.B. stopped her. His hands went to her bridle, fingers smoothing over the leather, whispering across her cheekbones. He thumbed the bit in her mouth, wiping away the drool pooling at the corners.

  Her eyes widened, but he didn’t say anything.

  Using soft, gentle commands, he turned her around, his fingers combing through her hair. She felt him gather it all in his hands, then the soothing tug-and-pull as he braided it. Maple squeezed her eyes shut and just let herself feel the moment. For the first time in a long while, her brain simply shut off, living for the moment.

  J.B.’s hands traced loving designs down her back as he finished her hair. He let them drift over her hips, giving her ass a firm slap before turning her to face him again. Maple felt her whole body blush as his gaze lingered on her nipples and her pussy.

  It was, by far, the best experience of her life. Hands-down. J.B. wasn’t even doing anything overtly sexual. But his touch was filled with warmth and kindness. The rough cowboy hands coveted her. Worshipped her.

  This was care. It was love. His touch was meant to reassure her. Each pass of his fingertips wiped away a fear and left a trail of excitement, tingling and new. She peered into his mismatched eyes, loving every nuance to them. The way they could be filled with yearning and soulful depth, yet solidly in place in a worn, stoic face.

  He tempered the storm within her and made her feel loved.

  “You’re too thin,” he murmured, fingers brushing the ribs now pressing through skin. He reached down and to Maple’s surprise, grabbed a hipbone. She hadn’t realized how much weight had sloughed off her in the stable. His hands moved their way back up, cupping her face. It held it gently, like she was a bird with a broken wing. A butterfly in danger. His thumbs smoothed under her eyes where she knew dark circles lingered. “Too tired.”

  J.B.
drew her close. The buttons of his shirt pressed sharply into her skin and she relished the pain. His heat, his smell, invited her body in. She felt arms wrap tight around her, pressing her into his firm chest and stomach. Maple thought she was in danger of her heart bursting. Even her mind, usually so eager to grasp at each moment to divide and analyze, was muted.

  J.B. nuzzled her, his breath hot on her temple. Maple shivered as his hand slid down the curve of her back, lightly tugging at her tail. The steel plug had long since adjusted to her body temperature. She never forgot it was there, really, but she’d become so acclimated to its weight and it’s solid, neverending pressure in her bowels that it became a part of her.

  When he tugged it lightly, moving in deep within her, Maple jerked and gasped. Her pussy clenched, immediately flooding. She bit her tongue quickly to cut off his name, which was a hymn left on her lips, seeking to be sung.