The blow rolled her onto her back and another boot landed on her thigh. She heard a siren whelp, saw red and blue flashing lights, then rolled onto her stomach and threw up.
Ryland awoke at one-forty in the morning to an empty bed.
She'd tried to wait up for Morgan, who'd been in the den reading late into the night, but she'd apparently dozed off and Morgan had never come in. Her robe lay draped across the end of the bed, and she pulled it on as she padded barefoot down the hall. When she pushed open the door, she saw Morgan asleep on the couch, fully clothed with a decorative throw pulled up to her chin. Her boots lay across the room where she’d thrown them.
Ryland returned to their bedroom and took a down-filled blanket and pillow from the closet. She retraced her steps and curled up at the opposite end of the couch, spreading the blanket over both of them. Doubts that she’d pushed aside began to resurface as she leaned her head against the back of the sofa and watched her best friend, whose face was pinched and stressed even in sleep. Had she been wrong to get them involved in Jesse's nightmare? Tonight was the first time in ten years she'd awoken without Morgan by her side.
Morgan stirred, and when she opened her eyes, she saw Ryland at the end of the couch, a sleepy, worried expression on her face. Morgan sat up so she faced Ryland, her back leaning on the overstuffed leather arm of the sofa.
Ryland reached her hand down the length of the sofa, her fingers stretching out toward Morgan, who moved her hand as well. Their fingers just barely reached far enough to brush against each other, and Morgan let her hand drop to the cushion.
Ryland looked away, fighting back tears as she struggled to know what to say. Tonight, for the first time, she didn't understand her partner, and she was afraid to ask why she hadn't come to bed.
Morgan slid down into the couch, laying with her head on the arm of the sofa while she studied the patterns on the ceiling. "At what point, Ryland, do we say enough is enough? That we tried and failed?"
Ryland couldn't speak without opening herself up to more tears, so she shook her head slightly and said nothing.
"Do you know what occurred to me tonight?"
Another shake of the head.
Morgan continued to follow the swirls and lines etched into the plaster above her head. “This isn't about Jesse. It's about that young man, that Vietnam vet who dared kill himself on your watch. You couldn't save him, and here's a chance to make up for that young life you couldn't save."
A dark mass started in the pit of Ryland's stomach and hurled itself up at her, unbidden and unexpected. She pushed herself forward, crawled on top of Morgan and let the tears flow freely onto her friend's chest. Morgan held her close and let her cry, unsure how to handle the strongest woman she'd ever known falling apart in her arms.
Ryland let the tears cleanse her mind, and she inched her arms down and around Morgan's back until there wasn't a separation of space between them. "Please don't ever make me wake up in the middle of the night without you there. I can take almost anything except the thought that you and I aren't together forever."
Morgan stroked Ryland's hair and rested her cheek on her head. “I'm sorry. It was just...I don't know. I was incensed, enraged, that Jesse would come into our house and threaten you, and—" She fought back tears herself, not knowing how to explain her feelings. “And if she had touched you, I would have killed her."
Ryland lay quietly, listening, thinking. She wiped her eyes on Morgan's shirt and lay her head back down. “Can I try to explain something about me to you?"
"Always."
"What you said about Steven, that young man, was partially true, but not totally. Over the last forty years, there were six men and women who committed suicide while in my care." She listened to Morgan's heartbeat as she spoke. “That's a terrible truth when dealing with critically, emotionally traumatized patients. They often survive the physical torture only to succumb to the emotional refuse that comes after."
Morgan shifted down farther into the couch, and Ryland squeezed her tightly again, feeling their connection. She continued, wanting Morgan to understand why she needed to help someone like Jesse. “A part of me, a part of my self-confidence, died with each one. What you don't understand is that I know—I really know
—that we might fail with Jesse because I've failed before. But I also know we might succeed."
She pushed up so she could look into Morgan's eyes. “It's what I'm good at, Morgan. Knowing how to heal people like Jesse is a gift, and I believe, very strongly, that there was a reason she came to us."
Morgan looked up at the ceiling again and shook her head, not really understanding.
A thought popped into Ryland's mind, and she smiled and lay her head back down. “Okay, try this out for size. If a dog or a hound had been tortured as badly as Jesse was, and that animal landed on our doorstep, would you turn your back on it just because it threatened to bite us? Because, you do realize, Jesse has never actually bitten either one of us."
Morgan returned Ryland's smile. “That's hitting below the belt."
"Well, would you?"
"Of course not, but—" She couldn't come up with what the
“but” might be, so she sighed and pulled Ryland close again.
“Good grief. Okay, I get it...but if I do kill her, will you still love me?"
"I will love you forever and always."
"And do you think we could buy her a muzzle?"
The two of them quieted when they heard the metal gate leading onto their property scrape against the ground as someone pulled it open. They got off the couch and went to see who'd come onto their property at two-fifteen in the morning. Morgan opened the door. “It's a sheriff's SUV. What does he want?"
They waited on the porch as Deputy Meier pulled up in front of the house. "I've got a delivery for you. She was getting the heck kicked out of her in town." He walked to the passenger side and pulled Jesse out onto her feet. She started to fall over as she leaned against him, so he propped her up on the hood of his vehicle, face first.
Morgan turned and banged her head against the door post as Ryland sighed and started out to the car. Morgan reluctantly followed. When she reached the SUV, she wrapped Jesse's arm around her shoulders. “She's filthy, and she's filthy drunk. What happened?"
Deputy Meier stepped to the passenger door and brushed the seat off with his hand. “Well, I was driving down Main Street and saw Andy throw her out of the bar. Then three men came out and hauled off and kicked her. I turned on my siren, and when they saw me, they all took off running."
Ryland put Jesse's other arm over her shoulder. “Who were they?"
"I couldn't tell, and Andy won't say. He says a bartender who knows too much is bad for business." The deputy smiled and climbed into the driver's seat. "Well, ladies, have a wonderful morning." He drove out onto the road and stopped to pull the gate closed.
The two women half-walked, half-carried Jesse into the house.
Morgan grabbed on a little tighter. “I've got her—can you get her some clean clothes?"
Ryland ducked out from under Jesse's arm as Morgan dragged her to the bathroom. She dropped her into the shower stall, clothes and all. Jesse tried to roll onto her hands and knees to stand, but Morgan pushed her down onto her back, grabbed the hand-held shower head and turned on the cold water. She held the water on Jesse's head, then moved it down to clean the rest of her body.
Jesse struggled to get out, but she was so drunk the only thing she accomplished was to get Morgan totally soaked. She managed to gag out, “Tha’s fuckin' freezin'! Lemme go!"
Morgan flipped her over to spray the dirt off her back. “I wish I could add huge chunks of ice to it if it'd make you more miserable."
Ryland came in and laughed. “Morgan."
Morgan reached over and turned off the water. "Help me get her out of these and into something dry." When they had her dry and dressed, they half-carried her into the guest bedroom and dropped her into the bed. Morgan threw the cover
over her. “You'd better sleep well the next two hours, because four-thirty is gonna roll around awful early and I'll be damned if I'll feed for you because you went out and got yourself shit faced."
Jesse had already passed out and didn't hear a word she said.
Morgan changed into dry pajamas and turned on her alarm. She didn't normally need it but this time she wanted to make absolutely sure she was awake to pull Jesse out of bed at a god-awful hour.
Chapter Seventeen
Four-thirty arrived way too early even for Morgan. The button on the alarm clock had broken off, and she struggled to silence it before she rolled out of bed and got dressed. She stumbled into the guest room and pulled the covers off Jesse. "Get up. You've got work to do."
Jesse opened one bleary eye, then rolled over to go back to sleep.
Morgan grabbed an arm and a leg and pulled her off the bed.
"I said, get up. The horses need to be fed."
Jesse sat up and leaned against the box springs, still drunk and not really sure where she was. Trying to focus brought on waves of nausea and she rolled over onto her stomach.
Morgan pulled her up by the back of her pajama top. "You throw up in my house and I'll make you sorry you were ever born."
She propelled her out onto the porch and down the path to the barn.
When they reached the apartment, Morgan unlocked the door and propped her up just inside. "You have five minutes to get dressed and have your butt out here ready for work." She stepped out, pulling the door shut behind her.
A truck drove by, and she went out to talk to Cody and Rico who were just arriving to feed the hounds. Both men got out of the truck and came over to say good morning. Cody's eyes were red and his hair shot out at different angles from his head. "Good Morning, Ms. Davis." He scratched his head. “Sometimes four-thirty comes way too early for a decent night's sleep."
"I hope it's a good morning. Would you get the first year hounds ready as quickly as possible? The hunt staff will be here at six-thirty to walk them out." She turned and started back to the barn.
"Yes Ma'am, we'll make sure to check them first so they're ready for you."
Morgan had her back to Cody, and she allowed her disgust to show where he couldn't see it. She hated brownnosers, and he was the worst of the worst. She faced the two men again. “I didn't mean to ignore you, Rico. Good morning."
"Buenos días, Señora. Beautiful day."
Morgan wondered just how beautiful a day they were in for as she stepped into the barn and saw Jesse sitting in the middle of the aisle struggling to pull on her boots. Morgan rubbed her eyes and walked over just as Jesse's hands slipped off the top of the boot.
She went down onto her back and lay there blinking up at her boss.
She struggled back into a sitting position and tried to grab her boot again. Every time she reached forward, the boot moved just out of reach.
"Oh, for Christ’s sake." Morgan grabbed the boot and pulled it on. She snatched the other boot from Jesse's hands, jammed it onto the other foot, jerked Jesse to her feet and shoved her toward the hay.
Jesse walked unsteadily forward, raising her hand in thanks to Morgan as she went. Morgan pulled up a stool next to the work table and watched to make sure Jesse didn't accidentally poison a horse or overfeed.
It took over an hour, but Jesse finished the feeding and stood in front of Morgan, swaying slightly. Morgan headed for the door.
“Let's go, I need to get some food into you before the hunt staff gets here. We're walking out the young ones this morning and I'm taking you with us."
Jesse groaned and followed Morgan up the path to the house.
She was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to keep any food down, but her head was clearing enough to know now would not be a good time to argue. They walked into the kitchen and Morgan poured Jesse a bowl of cereal and set it in front of her. "Eat."
Jesse looked at the food and closed her eyes to keep from being sick.
Morgan leaned over the table. “Do not...throw up...in my house!"
Jesse pushed away from the table and barely made it to the back porch before the rest of the beer and whiskey came sailing out. The hose was coiled next to the porch, and she turned it on to rinse out her mouth before raising it above her head and letting the water stream down through her hair. The water cascaded off in tiny rivulets, flowing down onto the porch and into the back yard, where it pooled next to the steps. She turned the water off and sat on the back step, thoroughly sick and sure she'd never eat a bowl of cereal again. The porch became her refuge as she lay back to wait for Morgan to finish eating.
After a short while, Morgan stuck her head out the back door.
“They're here. Let's go." She didn't wait to see whether Jesse followed. The hunt staff needed to be briefed about the morning's training, so she left her to find her way to the kennels on her own.
Jesse followed at a slower pace, stumbling down the path and pausing every few steps to take her bearings. When she finally arrived, the hunt staff was breaking up after listening to Morgan's instructions. Rico brought the hounds from the kennels just as Jesse walked around the corner of the barn. Excitement made the hounds giddy as they circled Morgan, vying for her attention. They were a beautiful mixture of whites and browns, some with brown spots, some white with brown speckles, some all brown and some all white. As Jesse approached the kennels, Cody walked past her on his way to get some water from the barn. “Good Morning, Jesse. Are you helping out today?"
Realization gradually made its way from the depths of Jesse's brain to full consciousness. Turning slowly, she watched as Cody stepped around her and smiled. There was a good-sized stick on the ground near her feet. She reached down and grabbed it, then swung it like a baseball bat toward Cody's head.
Morgan listened as Cody greeted Jesse. She recognized the thinly disguised taunting in his voice, and realized, almost too late, what Jesse was about to do. She lunged just as Jesse swung the club toward Cody's head, hooked Jesse under the arms and swung her around and away from her target. She grabbed the club out of Jesse's hands and threw it out into the horse pasture.
Jesse landed hard on her ass and started to get up to go after Cody again.
Morgan knelt and pushed her back down. She spoke quietly so that only Jesse could hear. “I told you I'd take care of him, not you."
Jesse met Morgan's eyes. "When?"
Understanding dawned, and Morgan put her hand on Jesse's arm. “Cody was one of men last night, wasn't he?"
Jesse didn't answer, and Morgan nodded. “Soon, I promise."
She stood and held out her hand. When Jesse took it, she pulled her to her feet and steadied her. "Cody, get that water, then you take the right point position." As he nodded and went into the barn, Morgan put her arm around Jesse's shoulders and directed her to the left. “You stay with me."
Her inhibitions dulled by alcohol, Jesse leaned into Morgan. “I hate him, Morgan. I wish you'd just fire him. What are you waiting for?"
"He won't get away with it, Jess. I promise. Just trust me, okay?" Morgan let go and began orchestrating the training, making sure she kept Jesse in her peripheral vision. All she needed was Cody in the hospital with a bashed-in head and Jesse in jail for putting him there.
They worked with the hounds for nearly two hours, Morgan barking orders and the staff hustling to obey. Jesse walked behind everyone, working off the alcohol and drilling hatred into the back of Cody's head. The tired hounds wiggled with pleasure when Morgan praised them before leading them back to the kennels.
Once they finished sorting the hounds into their proper enclosures, it would be time for the morning exercise ride. Jesse left the commotion of the kennels and went into the barn to saddle three horses. Her stomach still hadn't settled, and the thought of cantering and jumping over logs made her even more sick than she'd been earlier in the day. Her face felt clammy as she stepped through the door and found Ryland brushing Rebel, the sorrel gelding whose claim to fame
was nipping people if given the chance.
"Good Morning, Jesse. Feeling better?"
Jesse shook her head and lifted Cabo's halter off its hook.
Cabo's stall was at the end of the aisle, and he stood with his beautiful white head over his gate, hoping he'd be the one picked today. Jesse rubbed his nose and slipped on the halter. He followed her excitedly down the aisle, ears forward, a light prance to his step.
Ryland saddled Rebel, then took the brush from Jesse to start working on Cabo. "Why don’t you go get Smokey so we can be sure to have everyone saddled by the time Morgan's ready to go?"
"Smokey?" He was Jesse's favorite, a stocky black quarter horse with endless stamina who could turn on a dime.
Unfortunately, he also had the bumpiest trot and canter of all ten horses.
Ryland nodded sympathetically as the green tint intensified on Jesse's face, and she tried to hide her amusement from the younger woman. “Morgan said she wanted Cabo, Rebel and Smokey today.
Sorry, Kiddo."
Jesse swallowed hard and took Smokey's halter from Ryland.
“She's decided it'd just be easier to kill me than cure me."
Ryland chuckled under her breath, “Boy, have you got that right."
They had all three horses ready when Morgan finished with the hounds and came into the barn. After she hugged Ryland, she took Rebel's reins and growled low in her throat when he tried to nip her shoulder. He raised his head in innocence, peering down at her out of the corner of his eye. "Today would not be the day to mess with me, young man." She reached up and smoothed his black forelock, then motioned for Jesse to take Smokey and for Ryland to get Cabo.
They rode out into the pastures, slowly warming the horses before beginning to canter and jump. It took exactly thirty seconds of trotting before Jesse reined Smokey to a stop and puked.
Morgan pinched the bridge of her nose, her shoulders bouncing as she laughed.
Ryland shook her head and hid a smile of her own. “You are pure evil, my love."
The Door at the Top of the Stairs Page 13
