by Laura Moore
T he rain started as they were pulling into the parking lot of the restaurant Cassie had recommended. Big, fat drops fell, splattering against their skin. They looked at each other, silent.
Just great, thought Caleb. What was it with this place? So far he’d seen nothing but traffic jams, rude drivers, and highway. Now rain. So much for taking Cassie on a picturesque moonlight stroll, ocean waves lapping gently at their feet.
Caleb’s mood, which had improved significantly after a few cold beers accompanied by a delicious bowl of steamed mussels, plummeted again once they stepped outside. Rain was coming down in earnest. Straight sheets of the stuff.
“Hope this tapers off by tomorrow.” Hank spoke, giving voice to everyone’s chief concern.
They drove back to the motel, rain pounding the car filling the silence.
The rain kept on. It drummed, tapping a staccato beat on the roof of the cabin as Caleb and Cassie made slow quiet love, their voices hushed by its sound. Moving against each other, they murmured tender words, afterwards drifting off, wrapped in each others’ arms. They slept, rain falling steadily.
Riders acknowledged each other glumly, forced to peer intently through the rain from underneath the voluminous hoods of their ponchos. It wasn’t easy guessing identities with everyone covered from head to foot in rubber and oil-skins. For those standing with their mounts, sometimes looking at the horse made it easier then all one had to do was match horse with rider. Everywhere there were complaints, but especially by the in-gate.
“Watch it when you’re up. The footing’s a bitch and it’s so damn foggy the fences jump out at you.”
“Tough round.”
A short, bitter laugh. “You can say that again. No traction whatsoever. I’m just happy we got out of that mess with only eight faults and a time penalty.”
Cassie was standing nearby, listening to the disheartened comments of the riders as they passed. No doubt about it, it looked good and nasty out there. She shrugged inside her slicker then glanced up, feeling the cold rain hit her face. What she saw only depressed her more: not a single break in the cloud-covered sky.
“That you, Cassie, underneath that cap?” a familiar voice inquired.
She spun around, her spirits lifting for the first time since awakening this morning to a thoroughly drenched world. “Sam! I was hoping I’d run into you today!” She gave the older man a fierce, wet hug. “How are you? You look great.”
“Been doing real well. Got some nice horses coming up—you’ll recognize a couple of them. And how about you? How’s life in Virginia treating you?”
“I love it. Hank Sawyer’s just great. I never got to thank you for putting in a good word for me.”
Sam Waters waved his hand, brushing away her thanks. “You’d have gotten the job anyway. Hank come down with you?”
“He should be coming back any moment. He and his partner, Caleb Wells, went to get my horse. I wanted to stay here and watch the rounds. Footing’s getting real messy, Sam.”
“Yeah, I’ve been watching from over there. A real bitch. If you want my advice, Cassie, take it slow. Forget about the clock. This is just the jumping class. Be real conservative.”
“Thanks. Let’s cross our fingers that this clears by Sunday.”
“They’re going to have to postpone classes if it doesn’t stop sooner than that. The course is at the limit of ridability now. Just look at the ground already.”
He was right. The ground was becoming pitted and gouged, the horses’ hooves having dug deep into the sodden turf. Both watched glumly as another rider trotted out to brave the course.
Cassie was up on Limelight first. The class was so big, with so many riders, she’d had ample time to cringe at disastrous rides as well as marvel at feats of brilliance.
“You sure you want to go through with this, Cassie? If you want to scratch . . .”
“No, Caleb. Don’t worry, I’m going to go real easy out there. We’ve got to take a look at these jumps sooner or later. I’d rather it was before Friday’s qualifying class.”
Nodding reluctantly, Caleb pulled her into his arms, giving her a brief, hard kiss before letting her go. “Good luck, Slim. Be careful.”
“I will. I promise.”
He helped her mount Limelight, the dapple grey’s hindquarters still protected by a large plastic poncho. Waiting until the very last minute, Caleb pulled it back, off her horse as she trotted into the show ring.
Standing there with the dripping wet poncho in his hands, he stared after her. Damn, he hated this rain.
They were right. The footing was slippery. Cassie kept Limelight’s pace tightly controlled. Just sixteen fences, she repeated to herself like a litany. Take them one at a time, make those corners nice and wide and easy. Don’t think about the clock, just forget it. It doesn’t matter.
Limelight was such a brave horse. So willing. But it was nerve-rackingly tricky, especially when his hooves kept sliding, both on the take-off and the landing. All too soon, Cassie heard the muffled thud of rails falling to the saturated ground behind them, a sound that was repeated again and again.
When it was over she could only breathe a huge sigh of relief. All things considered, Limelight had done a terrific job. Fifteen faults, including the time penalty, certainly wasn’t anything to write home about, but on a day like today, she was happy enough to take it. Limelight hadn’t shied away from any of the imposing fences, and they’d avoided injury. She wasn’t going to ask for more than that under these rotten conditions.
She trotted back to Caleb and Hank, her white britches wet, brown splotches of mud clinging to them. Limelight’s perfectly groomed coat was now streaked with sweat and mud. Mike and Tony, waiting alongside Caleb and Hank, immediately went to work, taking the gelding by the reins, covering his steaming body with a cooler. Knowing Limelight wouldn’t qualify in the event of a jump-off, they led him back to the stabling area to dry him off and rub him down.
Caleb turned to Cassie and pressed a cup of steaming tea into her hand. “Drink this, Cassie. Your lips are blue.”
Nodding her head tightly in thanks, she sipped the hot, slightly sweetened liquid. “He tried really hard,” she mum-bled between sips. “I hate to say it, but I’m grateful I won’t be in a jump-off with him. I’ll be more than glad to call it a day after my ride with Orion.” Using an expression she rarely allowed to pass her lips, Cassie finished, enunciating clearly, “This weather bites the big one.”
Caleb and Hank laughed. “Damn straight. You did fine. You know, we’ve been hearing rumors going round that the judges are considering stopping the class for a rain delay and continuing it tomorrow.”
“I’d just as soon get it over with and let Orion and Limelight rest tomorrow. Two days in a row of fences this high and courses this difficult is a lot . . .”
“Well, there are about seven riders before you’re up again. I guess if they’re going to call it, we’ll know soon.”
“Where’s Orion?”
“Raff’s out longeing him. Should be here any second.”
“Cassie, you want anything before you go back out there? You hungry?”
“No, thanks, Hank. It’s too early, even for my junk food addiction. Think you can round up some windshield wipers, though? They might come in handy.”
Hank laughed. “Thatta girl. Keep your sense of humor up, you need one on a day like today. Here come Raff and Orion now. You plan to hop on him, warm him up a bit more?”
“Yes. I feel pretty soaked, I need to keep warm, too. I’ll trot him around a bit, away from this crowd. Can you call me when I’m on deck?”
Caleb walked Cassie over to the stallion. Today, his mane was unbraided. They were saving the braids for Sunday’s Grand Prix, should Cassie and the stallion make it that far. The stallion was pawing the mud with his hoof, shaking his head, his mane slapping, thick and wet against his muscular neck. Clearly, he was impatient at being asked to stand for even a minute in this cold, stinging rain.
“Hey big gu
y, you look as happy as the rest of us out here. A real happy camper ” Caleb said, patting the stallion’s rain-streaked neck as he pulled down the stirrups on his side of the saddle.
“Well, at least there aren’t any psychedelic railings out there,” Cassie said, remembering that first spring outing with Orion in the show jumping ring. How long ago that seemed. “Everything’s supremely tasteful here at the Classic. Nothing to offend your delicate sensibilities, Orion.”
Caleb chuckled and gave her a leg up. Cassie settled herself in the saddle, feeling the clammy wetness of her breeches cling to her skin. Her gloves were soaking, too. But in this weather she didn’t dare ride without them. The leather reins would be too slick to hold barehanded.
“Looks like your wish will be granted, Slim. I don’t think they’re going to postpone the class. Tell you what, after you get through this course, it’s my treat for the hot dogs. Just ’cause I’m a really great guy.”
Cassie grinned back at him, grateful for the banter. She needed the distraction. “Last of the big-time spenders, huh? You’re on, Wells. Hope you brought your Visa. This is the Hamptons, after all.”
She laughed when Caleb patted his pockets with an exaggerated look of horror. A smile still hovering on her lips, she rode off hoping for even a patch of decent footing to warm up in.
No, Orion was definitely not a happy camper. Just barely manageable, he was communicating his displeasure to the world through the angry twitching of his ears and the sudden, abrupt swiveling of his hindquarters as he took vicious aim at passing horses. Orion was telling her loud and clear that he was going to be a handful out on the course.
Well, show time. Hank had just waved to her, signaling that they were up. Drawing a deep breath, Cassie guided the stallion into the ring.
Same story, Cassie. Same story, different horse, she amended to herself, keenly aware of Orion’s powerful stride as she moved him into a canter, feeling the horse’s rising excitement as he sighted their first fence, a brush jump of potted evergreens, topped with a bright green and white striped pole.
There was such incredible strength underneath her. Gathering, soaring, landing, and . . . bucking.
Right, thought Cassie, this is great, as she was jolted suddenly unpleasantly, the stallion’s hindquarters lifting and kicking the air behind him as they galloped along. Orion’s having a temper tantrum. Hope he doesn’t destroy the fences, too. They continued on, Orion alternately straining at the bit, rushing the approaching jumps, landing, then bucking violently, as gifted and temperamental as a genius. And about as controllable.
Her arms were trembling now from the effort of holding him back, keeping him in check, as they negotiated the slippery footing. The course seemed endless as Cassie worked to keep her mount jumping safely.
The triple combination loomed before them.
Three striped verticals. Huge, and growing larger with each galloping stride.
As if suddenly elected chairman of the board, Orion made a split-second decision, without bothering to let Cassie in on it. So fast, so powerful, he leapt, hurtling his body high over the first jump of the combination. Taking off from a distance so great, it might as well have been another continent away.
He continued, soaring, as if he wanted to swallow all three jumps whole. Not needing to land between them. The world whooshed by. During that mad rush, she somehow lost contact with the stallion’s body. All too suddenly Cassie realized she was flying alone and about to crash.
Instinctively she rolled, curling herself into a tight ball, protecting her fragile body.
Then crashing. Slamming into the soft mud, going deeper, into the hard ground.
For seconds she lay immobile, shakily assessing the damage. Nothing seemed broken. No tearing, shooting pain. Just a dull, throbbing pain. She could live with that.
Gingerly, painfully, she uncurled herself, turning over from her side to her knees, moving carefully, regaining control of her muscles little by little. Her sole objective at the moment being to struggle back onto her feet and try to catch Orion.
She couldn’t recall hearing any terrifying crashing sounds as she’d hit the ground, so she assumed the stallion was unhurt, that he’d cleared the jump safely and was somewhere nearby. She prayed he was unhurt.
She’d made it to her knees by the time Caleb reached her. Having run, as if in a race for his life, through the muddy field to reach her fallen, motionless body. Sprinting even faster as he saw her begin the arduous process of regaining her feet.
It would have been difficult to judge whose face was paler with shock and fright.
“Cassie, Cassie, Jesus, are you all right? Don’t,” he ordered fiercely. “Don’t move, just lie back. Let me make sure nothing’s broken.”
Too weak to do otherwise, she obeyed his authoritative command. His dark eyes searched her face, gauging her reaction as his hands traveled slowly, methodically over her neck, her shoulders, her limbs, probing carefully.
Cassie submitted for a few seconds, before saying,”I’m really fine, Caleb. Really.” Her head, too, was already feeling somewhat clearer. “Just help me get to my feet.” She lifted her shoulders off the wet ground, struggling to sit up.
“Fuck that,” Caleb replied harshly, still terrified, his heart still pounding with dread. He scooped her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest as if she were no bigger than Sophie.
“Caleb,” Cassie demanded through gritted teeth. “Stop right now and put me down. You’ve got to let me walk out of this ring on my own two feet. Do you hear me? You’ve got to.”
He looked deep into her eyes, recognizing the fierce pride in them. Slowly wordlessly, he lowered her feet until they touched the muddy ground.
“Thank you,” she whispered softly.
Alex had seen the fall from his reserved table underneath the Grand Prix tent. He thanked God that Thompson and the kids had missed it. Not having realized Cassie was due to ride again so soon, he’d suggested that Thompson and the twins go and look at the llamas and miniature horses on display in the far corner of the tent.
His chair had flown backwards, thudding to the ground as Alex rushed to the railing, ducking, running, desperate to reach his sister lying on the ground. From the corner of his eye, he’d seen Caleb Wells tearing across the Grand Prix ring. Caleb reached her first, falling to his knees beside Cassie, his body bowed over her his hands moving over her, obviously checking for injuries.
He’d almost caught up to them when he saw Wells reach out and lift Cassie into his arms, carrying her a mere three paces before coming to a halt . . . then gently depositing her. Then he saw them both begin to walk, side by side, Wells’s arm behind her back, lending support.
Cassie was covered from head to foot in mud. She was moving stiffly, her face pinched with strain. Not yet having noticed Alex’s approach, she turned her head to say something to Wells. Alex’s gaze followed, lighting on Caleb’s face.
Surprised to see it was as white as a bleached sheet.
Finally, he intercepted them. His chest tight with worry he opened his arms. Wordlessly, Cassie stepped into her brother’s embrace. Alex held her, stroking his open hand up and down her back, feeling the tremors that still shook her body. Caleb stood by silently watching.
Giving her a final reassuring squeeze, Alex released his arms. With a shaky smile, Cassie said, “We’ve got to get out of here and let another rider try his luck. I’m glad you were here, Alex,” she finished simply as they began walking toward the gate.
“Me, too, Cass.”
Not far from the in-gate, all five of them converged, Hank with Orion in tow finally catching up. His face somber, Hank held Orion’s reins out to Cassie. Their eyes met, hers expressing thanks as she accepted them.
They continued on, walking as quickly as Cassie could manage, needing to leave the ring so the course would be clear for the next rider. The pain in her battered body growing with every step, it was an effort just to make her legs carry her across the field.
Hoping that perhaps talking would help distract her, Cassie asked, “Did you check Orion, Hank? I didn’t hear him hitting anything.”
“He’s fine. Not a scratch on him. Went and found some grass in the far corner to munch on while he waited for someone to come and get him.” His voice gruff, he asked, “The important question is, how about you? That was quite a fall, Cassie. No parachute, either.”
“Yeah, Cass,” Alex chimed in. “You sure you’re okay?”
Cassie nodded carefully. “I’m okay, really. Nothing ice packs, a hot bath, and a bottle of aspirin won’t cure.”
“You think we should take her to the hospital?” Alex asked Caleb, ignoring his sister. He still wasn’t close to liking Wells. But oddly enough, now, after seeing the fear still lingering stark in Caleb’s eyes, he trusted him. Perhaps someday he’d get around to liking him, too.
Caleb hesitated and then shook his head. “Nothing seems broken. She’s walking, she’s lucid. Cassie would let us know if she were hurting . . . Am I right, Slim?”
“Yes, Dr. Wells. Not that you’d get me to a hospital, anyway. Hate them.”
Caleb tugged gently on her elbow, pulling her to a stop. His index finger reached and lifted her chin as his eyes searched her mud-streaked face. Loving her so much.
He gave a small smile, the corners of his mouth lifting. “And here I always thought it would be nice to have a patient who talked back.” His mouth descended, soft and warm, lightly caressing. Needing to touch her so badly to reassure himself she had truly escaped harm.
So, that was the way the wind blew, Alex thought to himself, watching Caleb claim his sister’s lips in a tender kiss. Cassie had been careful not to mention any romantic involvement with Caleb. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t expected it. But if what Alex witnessed during the past few minutes was any indication, then it was obvious Caleb’s feelings for Cassie ran far deeper than Alex would have guessed possible. Perhaps Caleb Wells did have some redeeming qualities after all.
