by Kayn, Debra
"Watch this." Brody nudged her arm. "He's getting ready to jump on the horse's back. He does it in such a way; the horse doesn't have time to react. Devon is really good at reading the horse's body language, almost as well as Trace."
Brody was right. Devon's fluid movement blended with the horse, and they moved around the pen as one. Dusty barely protested the extra weight on her back. Joan moved away from the fence. She'd seen enough. It was time to head back to the house, and check if Trace finished his work for the day. After doing his exercises with him, she needed to start the dreaded task of searching for a job. Time was running out.
"Hey!" Brody called.
She turned around, and shielded the sun from her eyes. "Yes?"
"You got kinda quiet. Are you sure everything is okay?"
"I'm fine." She smiled. "Time for me to go check on Trace, and make sure he's wiggling his toes like the doctor ordered and then I'm going to get online and find me a job."
"Good luck. If you need any help, just yell." He climbed up on the fence and waved. "See you at dinner."
An hour later, Joan's list of job possibilities was dwindling down. She tapped her nails against the desktop, while holding the phone to her ear. There were three places left to call.
Her desire to stay in Durham, so Katie could finish her senior year with all her friends she grew up with was starting to appear unlikely. If she couldn't find employment this week, she'd have to start looking out of state. Nursing jobs were everywhere, except in small rural settings where it seemed that there was an abundance of caretakers, counselors, and R.N.'s.
She crossed her fingers as the phone stopped ringing, and a welcoming voice came over the line.
"Hello. This is Joan O'Hanlon, I'm calling about the counselor position you have advertised. I sent my resume last week, and wanted to let you know I'm still very interested in the job opening." Joan held her breath, while the man on the other end of the line filled her in on the job. "Yes, I'd be interested if the position becomes available again in the future. Thank you very much."
She hung up the phone. "Dammit."
Trace limped into the room. "Whoa…what put you in a bad mood?"
Joan jumped up from her place behind the desk, and hurried to him. "You got your cast off. What did the doctor say?"
He kissed her forehead, wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and then limped to the couch on the other side of the office. "He said he was amazed at how well I healed, and said I must have found the best nurse around this area. I agreed. I always knew you were the best."
She snorted. "Did you ask him if he wanted to hire me, because I'm getting desperate?"
"Still no luck?" He sat and pulled her down on his lap. "Come here, and let me hold you."
"Mm…I won't say no to that." She leaned her head on his shoulder. "Nope, every clinic, hospital, and counseling center is full. They've added me to their call list if anything else opens in the near future. I'm not sure what I'm going to do next."
"Something will come up, and things will work out." He nuzzled her neck. "I missed you."
"I missed you, too." She sunk her hands into his hair and kissed him. "Did you bring home the instructions for your aftercare?"
He grunted. "Yeah. It's time for me to get back to training. This injury really set me off schedule. I've got a load of horses that need to be shipped out at the end of the quarter."
"That's not what I'm talking about. What did the doctor want you to do to rebuild the strength in your leg, now that the cast is off?" She wiped the smudge of lipstick left on his upper lip.
"He released me completely. I'm supposed to add activities in as I see fit, and not to push myself." He rubbed her back.
"Then my job is finished," she whispered on a sigh. "That's great, Trace. I'm glad you received a clean bill of health. I know this is what you wanted."
"I might need a little help." He hooked his finger under her chin. "Stay here with me. Until you get a job. I'd pay just to have you give me a massage every night."
"Trace—"
"I'm not ready yet." He held her gaze. "I still need you."
"Let me see how the rest of the calls I need to make go, talk to Katie, and then we'll discuss where we go from here." She sagged against him. "Speaking of horses, I met Thunderbolt. Do you want my unprofessional opinion?"
"Probably not," he muttered.
"Tough. I'm giving it to you anyway." She traced his faced. "You should get rid of the horse."
"Not happening. I've been breaking horses since I was eighteen years old, and I've never seen such a beautiful horse. It's hard to believe he was running with the wild herd we captured." He laid his cheek against her head. "He's the most valued horse I've ever came across. Once he's trained, he'll be worth a million."
She snorted. "Are you kidding me? He's going to kill someone. He should have been left in the wild."
"Maybe, but I don't think so. I think he needs to gain my trust, and when he does, I'll be able to breed him with the mares on the ranch. He'd throw the most beautiful foals with the right brood mare." Trace drew a circle around her breast. "Speaking of beautiful…"
She arched her back. "Didn't you get enough of me last night?"
The last three nights, Trace and she had spent hours talking and it'd ultimately led to going to his bed together. Where Trace had reluctance talking about his feelings and his dreams for the future, he made up for by showing her how much he wanted her. Now that he'd asked her to stay, maybe there was hope for them yet.
He'd yet to tell her he was falling in love though, and she'd put her trust in him because she couldn't imagine him playing her. She'd gotten good at reading what was going through his head over the last several weeks.
She had made up her mind the first night they were together that what she was feeling was more than a fleeting fancy. She loved him. It was simple, and it came out of nowhere. She'd never push him past his comfort level, and knew that he would have to come to terms with his feelings on his own time. She'd wait. He'd battled enough in his life, without having the added pressure to conform to the way she handled her love for him.
"I don't think I could ever get tired of discovering every inch of you," he whispered.
She was happy with that confession. For now.
Her stomach growled. He chuckled, and she stopped him with a kiss. "I'm hungry."
"We better go eat. That's why I came in here. The guys are already washed up and at the table." Trace helped her off his lap.
"That's not the kind of food I need and want." She looped her arm around his waist and walked out of the office with him.
"That's dessert." He smacked her rear. "Let's hurry, cause I'm starving."
She snorted and grinned. "I like this side of you."
He grabbed her hand and led her into the dining room.
Dinner conversation swirled around ranch activities. Joan pushed her food around her plate, listening to Brody talk to Trace. Her headache grew stronger, and it didn't help that all their talk centered around what Trace planned to do with Thunderbolt. Trace was determined to get back on the dangerous animal. Unable to stand how confident he sounded at breaking the wild horse, she made her excuses to retire early.
Twenty minutes later, she'd worked herself up into a full-blown mood. When Trace walked into his room after she'd finished with her shower, she stomped her way to the end of the bed and planted her hands on her bare hips. She wanted to shake sense into Trace. He wasn't thinking right if he didn't have any worries getting on the back of Thunderbolt.
He finished stripping out of his clothes and lay back on the bed. She glared. "I want to talk to you."
"About?"
She chewed her bottom lip. "Thunderbolt. You can't try to ride him again."
"You'll have to trust me." Trace leaned against the headboard of the bed with his hands hooked behind his head. "It's what I do, Joan. I'm a horse trainer."
"He'll kill you. Why can't you understand that? Even if Thunderbolt doe
sn't kill you, he could cripple you for life." She raised her hands and shook her head. "I don't want to lose you after just finding you."
"Come here." He patted the bed. "I don't want to talk about Thunderbolt."
She crawled up on the bed, still naked from her shower and frowned. "But you will talk about Thunderbolt with me later. I don't like this."
Kissing the warm hollow of her neck, he whispered, "Later. Much later."
She shook her head, and despite the worry, released a bubble of laughter as he licked the sensitive spot underneath her chin. Hovering over him, she arched her back. Her body warming as he caressed her breasts. "You're not gonna make me forget about my stance on you riding Thunderbolt."
"Sh…no more talk." Trace lifted his head and reached to the nightstand for a condom. "Lay down on your back."
"Your leg." She captured his mouth in a heated kiss, before moving off him and lying beside him.
"My leg is fine. I won't need that one." He rolled and held himself above her. His pelvis nested between her legs. He thrust forward, and slid into her wetness.
They didn't speak…they didn't need to. They both knew what each other wanted.
The subject of getting rid of Thunderbolt faded away with each caress. Her worry about finding a job disappeared with each kiss. They were together, finding comfort in each other in the most intimate way possible.
Each of Trace's thrusts bound them tighter and closer, and Joan shuddered with the pleasure of being with him. Her hands explored his body. A white fierce passion filled her.
He was gentle and tender, bringing her higher with each stroke. She kissed him deeply and her body melted underneath him. The pressure intensified until she moaned his name as he took her over the edge with him.
They continued to hold on to each other, still needing the closeness.
"Joan…" Trace's breathe warm against her neck.
She smoothed his hair back away from his face. "Sh. I know. I feel it too."
He fell asleep with her curled up in his arms. She stared at the window into the darkness. The moon lit up the room. She held his hand to her heart. They had many hurdles to cross, but for the first time in ten months, she had confidence that everything would work out in her favor.
Chapter Twenty-One
Trace walked to the office with hardly a limp. The exercises Joan had him doing were working better than he imagined they would. The fact that Joan had forbidden him to get on the back of Thunderbolt while she was living at the ranch and he obeyed, probably helped too.
The horse had digressed even further than he'd hoped during the time he recuperated, and he'd have to start all over at step one. He knocked on the door with his knuckle, and walked inside the office when he heard Brody call him inside.
Brody and Devon huddled around the desk, but backed away as he entered the room. He nodded his head at his friends. When they all came together, the sense of family was never lost on him. He couldn't imagine life without them.
"About time you showed up." Devon grinned. "We had to keep Brody from going and getting your lazy ass out of bed."
He cocked his brow. "He better not step inside my bedroom, or he'll find himself walking backward the rest of his life."
Brody laughed. "Oh, look at you. Just because you've got yourself a woman staying at the ranch, you think you can boss me around. It's a damn shame how I get treated around here."
"Joan still sleeping?" Devon asked.
"Yeah," he said
Devon chuckled. "Dawg."
Trace grinned. He couldn't help it, Joan put him in a good mood. "So, what's the big news you were hinting about over dinner? Did Devon make us another quarter million in the stock market?"
"I wish. Damn numbers are falling more every day. I think it's about time I shifted some of our money around." Devon waited for him to sit, and tossed a folder down in Trace's lap. "This is about something else. I want you to take a look at these, and give me your opinion."
Devon flipped through his own file. Trace caught Brody's eye.
"Do you know what this is about?" Trace asked.
Brody nodded. "Devon already filled me in."
Every paper was a different color, tabbed, and stacked in a neat pile. He thumbed through the first few sheets, and furrowed his brows. He didn't recognize most of the paperwork, but the name of the reservation and tax papers he knew well. "What's this about?"
"It's everything we need to start a non-profit organization on the reservation. We could offer family counseling, drug and alcohol abuse help, and be able to find them support. In addition, the biggie…our people wouldn't have to pay a dime. The money backing the clinic will come from an anonymous account, although it'll be public knowledge that the three of us will sit on the board and oversee the operation. That'll get around seeking the elder's permission, since we've all remained part of the community, and we are active registered Lakota."
Trace rubbed his forehead and stared down at the folder. There had to be a catch. The Lakota wouldn't run in droves for help.
"It'd also be somewhere that we could use our money without being taxed to death. With the clinic set up on the reservation, we can offer on-site help…for people like Savannah. If her father won't come for help, she would still have somewhere to run where she could stay, get a meal, medical attention, and a warm bed." Devon sat back down.
"We'd have to hire professional, qualified people to run the clinic, of course. Despite your opinion, if the others found out we were funding the investment, they'd never take advantage of free care. They look down on us already for leaving our heritage behind, despite the opposite…you know that. I think you'd have to make it blatantly clear that we're only there to act as buffer between the clinic and the council." Trace lifted his gaze. "But, if this will save one child, one family, I think this is a good idea. I'm all for it."
"I think that's the least of our problems." Brody shrugged. "Ten, twenty years ago it was okay to ignore the drug and alcohol abuse happening with our people. We've grown as a community, and although everyone is shy about accepting help, no one will deny there is a growing concern for the youth. Kids are picking up the habit earlier and with more frequency. The Lakota are losing their young to Durham and surrounding areas, because children are maturing faster."
"The next question we have for you is—Devon leaned forward and steepled his fingers in front of him—we'd like to offer Joan the job of running the clinic, of being in charge of bringing in voluntary physicians, seeking help, and setting up a community outreach. She has the heart for this kind of work, Trace. We'd pay her wages, of course, but the doctors, the nurses, and the counselors would be volunteers, strict pro quo status, for resident doctors and nurses, needing to put their schooling into hands-on-cases to achieve more hours of experience."
Trace shook his head. "No. I don't want her anywhere near that place."
"She needs a job, Trace." Brody sat up in the chair. "She told me about wanting her sister to come home."
"I don't care. She'll get another job. Somewhere that she'll be safe and I won't worry every time she has to deal with some whacked out druggie or drunk man." He stood. "Go ahead with the clinic. I think it sounds like a solution for the children, at the very least, but keep Joan out of it. She's too innocent to deal with the ugliness of abuse, it would tear her apart, and she'd never be able to handle knowing what happens after they leave the clinic and go home to their family. The job would eat her alive."
Devon cleared his throat. "Things are different—"
"Bull shit!" Trace pressed his lips together, looked away, and let his breath out. "Tell Savannah times have changed, and her father won't kick her across the floor anymore or she won't have to cry herself asleep while hiding in an abandoned house while holding broken ribs. You'd be lying, and you know it."
The others didn't comment, and he walked out of the office. Without thinking, he left through the front door, and headed to the stables. What they were proposing was an answer to man
y of the problems of reservation life, but the real life problems that came with caring for each of those individuals that sought help would wear Joan down in no time and suck the goodness out of her.
The cooler night air eased the anger rising in him. He left the lights off in the stables, and walked down the aisle by moonlight shining through the open doors to Thunderbolt's stall. In an hour, the sun would come up over the horizon and wake up all the horses.
He stood in the aisle looking in at Thunderbolt. The tension rolled off the horse, and added to Trace's misgivings. The horse didn't sleep either.
"You're a lot like me, Thunderbolt." He spoke softly.
The horse tossed his head, backing up against the far wall.
"You don't trust me, or anything I say. Instead of beaten, you lived a life on your own, foraging, fighting, and surviving to stay alive. Your strength comes from your independence, whereas my strength comes from fear." He shoved his hands deep in his front pockets. "Someday, I hope you recognize that I'm only doing what is the best for you. You'll have a good home, food to eat, and never have to fight for your station in life."
Thunderbolt kicked out, pushed to its limits with Trace standing and blocking his exit. He closed his eyes, showing Thunderbolt that he would not challenge him. He was safe. Then he walked back to the house. He needed Joan, and he'd be the first to admit he wanted her support, her acceptance. With her, he felt almost complete. Normal.
She planned to leave this weekend, but he was going to ask her to stay. He'd convince her to let him help her bring her sister to the ranch, and together they'd stay together, in his wing of the house. It was the least he could do for how much she'd brought to his life.
***
The warm, delightful caress on her breast woke Joan up in the most pleasurable way. She stretched on the bed and reached for Trace. She could get used to waking up this way.
"Mm…I like that." She opened her eyes. "What time is it?"
"It's early. The sun is only now starting to rise." He rolled over her, and situated himself between her knees, bracing himself on his arms. "Have I told you how beautiful you are with your hair all spread out on the pillow, and your eyes heavy with sleep?"
