“He talked to you,” Zach retorted. “How, I don’t know, but I was watching, and there’s no doubt in my mind that he was somehow communicating with you.”
“Yes,” she confessed. “In a way I can’t explain, he did. But that’s only because—” Mandy caught herself. Zach Harrigan had no need to know about her past or the incidents that had molded her into a person who could sense fear in others. She settled for saying, “Shall we?” The conversation ended when she opened her door.
Zach walked beside her to the personnel door and held it ajar so she could precede him into the building. The instant Mandy stepped inside, she heard Tornado shriek. Tucker Coulter, a petite, dark-haired woman, and Cookie stood well back from the stallion’s stall gate. Conscious of Zach right behind her, Mandy hurried over to them.
When Tornado saw Mandy, he stopped rearing. A tremor shook his huge body, and he emitted a beseeching little grunt. Mandy went to the gate, stepped up onto a rung, and stretched out her arm. “Hey, big guy,” she said softly. “What are you throwing such a big fuss about?”
The stallion grunted again and elongated his neck but remained where he was. Mandy glanced over her shoulder. “Would you mind stepping back a bit more? I think your nearness to the gate is making him nervous.”
Everyone obliged, and Tornado’s reaction was almost immediate. He hurried over to the gate, whickered and chuffed, and thrust his nose under Mandy’s arm. Tears stung her eyes as she rested her cheek against the animal’s temple.
“Ah, Tornado,” she whispered, “you have to trust me, okay? That awful man who hurt you is in jail, but they’ll have to turn him loose if we can’t get some pictures of your scars. Cameras are kind of scary.” She ran a hand along the ridge of the stallion’s neck. “They flash and make little clicking sounds. But I promise nothing bad will happen. Okay?”
Mandy waited until she felt all the tension leave the horse’s body. Then she glanced back at Zach. “How do you want to do this?”
“You think you can get a halter on him again?” Zach asked. “If you can, maybe you can move far to the left and get him to stand sideways to the gate. Tucker can give him the shot through the rungs.”
“Will that hurt him?” Mandy had just promised Tornado that he wouldn’t be hurt, and it was a promise she meant to keep.
“No. A tiny prick on the rump,” Tucker assured her. “He’ll barely feel it. Once the sedative takes effect, which will take a while because I can’t give him anything intravenously, he’ll go down and be so sleepy for a while that he won’t really care what we do with him.”
Zach brought Mandy a halter. As had happened earlier in the evening, Tornado didn’t object when she slipped the leather straps over his nose and fastened the buckle. When Mandy moved to the far left end of the gate, the stallion followed her without question. She grabbed his cheek strap and began scratching his shoulder and side to get him to stand parallel to the gate. When the horse was in position, Tucker circled around to the right and slipped up behind the stallion with the hypodermic needle. The stallion chuffed when he felt the prick, but he seemed to be so intent on the petting from Mandy that he didn’t act up as the large amount of medication was administered.
Tucker backed away, shaking his head in amazement. “I’ve never seen anything like this. He’s putty in your hands. What did you do, cast a spell over him?”
Mandy smiled sadly. “No black magic involved. He just senses that I won’t hurt him, is all. How long will it take for the sedative to work?”
“It won’t be as fast as something straight into a vein. Thirty minutes, I’m guessing. And it’s short duration, so he won’t be groggy for very long.”
Tucker slipped an arm around the dark-haired woman’s slender shoulders. The gesture conveyed affection. The expression that softened his handsome features spoke of deep love. The woman—Mandy suspected she was Zach’s sister, Samantha—smiled up at him, his feelings for her mirrored in her expressive brown eyes. Mandy fleetingly wondered how it might feel to share a love like that, to know, way deep in your heart, that a man’s devotion to you would never falter. Being in love with a man was an experience Mandy had never hoped to have, but for an instant, watching Tucker and Samantha together, she felt empty inside and envied them a little.
When the sedative finally began to take effect, Tornado hung his head and weaved slightly on his feet. Mandy was forced to stand back and watch, fascinated, while the other four people went to work. Zach led the drugged horse to the center of the enclosure. Samantha spread a towel on the stall floor to the left of the horse. Tucker stood at the stallion’s left shoulder.
The vet checked to make sure Samantha was out of the way and then pressed the palms of both hands against Tornado’s left side. Even sedated and groggy, the stallion braced against the pressure, and when Tucker suddenly removed his hands, Tornado went down as if a hard wind from the right had knocked him over. When he landed, Mandy saw that the towel had been carefully positioned so his head would lie on it.
It was the slickest trick Mandy had ever seen. Tornado whinnied and struggled to get up, but he was too out of it to gain his feet. Samantha beckoned to Mandy.
“I know you want to be with him. Come on in. He’ll feel calmer if you’re here.”
Mandy hurried inside and knelt at Tornado’s head. He trembled and chuffed when she began petting him. That told Mandy that the stallion still recognized her. More important, he still trusted her. She’d been afraid he might resent that she’d tricked him.
Samantha crouched beside Mandy. “I’m Zach’s sister, Sam.” She held out a small but strong-looking hand. “Somehow, we bypassed introductions.”
“I’m Miranda Pajeck.” Mandy shook hands with her. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
Sam fingered the horse’s tangled mane. “Poor fellow. He’s so scared of everyone, he can’t be groomed much.”
Tucker approached with an electric clipper. Hunkering beside his wife, he turned his gaze to Mandy. “Zach says you felt scars under his coat. You remember where?”
“All over his head.” Mandy pointed to a spot she knew was peppered with marks.
Tucker shaved a small place on Tornado’s forehead to reveal at least a dozen scars, each about the diameter of an ice pick. “Pay dirt.”
Zach moved in to take pictures. Next Mandy directed Tucker to the stallion’s neck. Tucker chose to shave away the hair beneath the fall of Tornado’s mane. “This way, the mane will hide the bald spots.”
Once again, the clipping revealed a mass of scars. Zach swore under his breath as he took pictures. “Ristol whipped him with a pronged dog collar,” he said angrily. “Sweet Jesus, is this poor horse scarred from head to toe?”
The next revelation was the scars on the horse’s underbelly. Hair wouldn’t grow where Tornado had been burned by the electrical prod. The marks weren’t visible when the horse was standing, but they were very apparent with the stallion lying on his side. The instant Tucker hoisted one of Tornado’s hind legs, Mandy gasped. The scars were near, even on, the animal’s privates. Tears burned her eyes as she stared at the evidence of Ristol’s merciless treachery. How could anyone be so cruel to an animal?
When Zach had taken all the pictures necessary, he left for the house to tag the photos with identifying captions on his computer. After Tornado was back on his feet, Tucker would join him there to compose their individual statements and send the information to the authorities in Malheur County. Cookie and Samantha stayed to help with Tornado until the sedative wore off. Mandy’s presence was no longer needed.
Even so, she lingered for a while, her heart aching as she stroked Tornado, her fingertips lightly grazing the scars Tucker’s clippers had revealed. Her heart caught each time Tucker used a stethoscope to check the stallion’s heartbeat.
“Is he okay?” she asked faintly.
“Right as rain,” Tucker assured her. “This is only routine.”
When Mandy finally left for home, the tears she’d held at bay
slid silently down her cheeks. The world could be such a cruel place. She’d learned that long ago. But that didn’t make it any easier to accept what had happened to Tornado. She hoped Steve Ristol received a very long prison sentence.
By the time everything had been sent to the Malheur County authorities and Tucker and Samantha had left, Zach was completely exhausted. He flopped down onto his office chair and stared stupidly at nothing. His chest felt as if someone had injected his rib-cage cavity with molten lead that had cooled and hardened into a massive lump. If he lived to be a hundred, he’d never forget Tornado trying to hide his head under Miranda’s arm. The stallion sensed that he’d get nothing but love from her without any expectations riding double. With her, the horse could just be himself, a huge, angry, frightened mass of muscle that wanted to be comforted.
Miranda had delivered. Zach sure as hell hadn’t.
He shut down the computer. Staring past the desk light into the shadowy end of the room, he had to face and accept that he was a horse trainer and an authoritative figure, which made him a fearsome person to Tornado. The horse didn’t know what mean trick Zach might pull on him next. Had Tornado been beaten with a currycomb at some point? Zach’s muscles knotted as waves of sheer rage crashed over him. Men like Ristol grew violent with their fists and with anything they held in their hands. A currycomb could have been used as a punitive instrument at some point.
Now armed with the knowledge of Tornado’s background, Zach realized something else that made him feel small. Tornado had already come a long way by allowing Zach to touch him sometimes. For the stallion, that must have taken tremendous courage, because the horse had learned firsthand how evil and unpredictable men could be.
Zach picked up the phone, hit “menu,” and then scanned the list of callers until he found Miranda’s number. He punched “send” and rocked back on the chair while the phone rang. Finally, her sweet voice came over the wire. “Hello?”
“Hi.” Zach’s voice rasped like a rusty tin can being dragged across bumpy concrete. “It’s Zach. I hope you weren’t asleep. Any normal person would be.”
“I’m not normal, I guess. I had some work to finish up.” She hesitated and her voice tightened. “Did something go wrong with Tornado after I left?”
Zach smiled. “No. He came out of it just fine. I just called to thank you. We could have hazed him into the chute, but it would have been traumatic for him. You saved him from that. He was calm, unafraid. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that.”
“There’s no need to thank me. I was glad to do it. This may sound silly, but he’s special to me.”
“Even so, it was late when I called. You could have said no.” Zach raked a hand through his hair. “I, um, was thinking. You had to pay for a sitter.” Zach didn’t get why a nineteen-year-old boy needed one, but he accepted that Miranda never left the kid alone. “I’d like to cover the cost of that.” He suspected she didn’t have much money. “And, please, don’t refuse. My horse, my expense.”
“Don’t be silly. Having the sitter here didn’t cost that much.”
Zach pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well, thanks for coming. You made the whole mess a lot easier for my horse.”
“My pleasure. I’m just glad to know he’s awake now and doing well.”
Silence came over the line. Zach tried to think of something else to say and couldn’t. For some indefinable reason, he didn’t want to hang up. The sound of her voice eased the ache in his chest. Crazy. They were veritable strangers. Hell, he didn’t even know her well enough to chitchat.
He settled for saying, “I’ll be there tomorrow night as agreed.”
“We’ll be waiting,” she replied softly.
Another silence. Zach listened to her breathing, realized he was clinging to the sound as if it were a lifeline, and tightened his grip on the phone. He felt so awful about not realizing what was wrong with Tornado, and somehow she was like balm on the wound, soothing away the hurt. “Good night, then,” he forced himself to say.
“Good night,” she told him, her voice sweet and as soft as a caress.
Zach disconnected but kept the phone pressed to his ear for a second, not wanting the contact with her to end. Finally he shoved the cell back in its case and pushed wearily to his feet. Ruffling Rosebud’s flyaway forelock, he said, “Come on, sweetheart. We’re bunking in the arena tonight.”
Rosebud followed him into the kitchen. Zach left her there to collect a sleeping bag from the storage room. Ten minutes later, he and the mini were walking to the arena. Once inside, Zach fetched Rosebud’s bucket and hay feeder from her daytime holding area. Then he set up a makeshift camp for himself and the tiny horse outside Tornado’s stall. The stallion chuffed and wheeled away as Zach unrolled the sleeping bag and unzipped it. Zach ignored his protests. The stallion would eventually get used to this ritual. For an indefinite time, Zach would be sleeping here every night.
After dousing the lights, he decided to keep his boots on. Sleeping around horses barefoot felt all wrong to him. After he climbed into the sleeping bag and pillowed his head on his crossed arms, Rosebud came over to sniff him. In the wash of moonlight coming through the skylights, her expression looked bewildered.
Zach chuckled. “I know it seems strange to you sleeping out here, but the big guy in there needs a couple of friends. You and I are elected.”
Rosebud, left to wander at will inside the huge building, chose instead to thrust her head through the rungs of Tornado’s stall gate. Zach tensed. The mini and stallion had never met, and Zach feared Tornado might kick or bite her. Instead the big lug touched his nose to Rosebud’s, whickered, and nibbled at her lips. The mini nickered and nibbled back. Zach watched the exchange in wonder. He’s so sweet, Miranda had said. Until tonight, Zach had never seen the gentle side of Tornado, but watching him now, he couldn’t deny that the stallion was being very careful with the mini.
Strange. Apparently Tornado felt that he could let down his guard with Rosebud because she posed no threat to him. The two animals exchanged breath, bumped each other, made odd little sounds, and, just that quickly, seemed to forge a fast friendship.
Zach drifted off to sleep, images of Miranda moving sweetly through his mind.
Chapter Eight
The next evening, Mandy’s doorbell rang at precisely seven. She wondered whether Zach had parked at the end of the block and waited in order to be right on time. Sniffing the air in hopes that the cookies she’d just removed from the oven would camouflage any lingering fishy odor from dinner, she raced through the dining room, detoured in the living room to pick up candy wrappers, and then hurried to answer the door.
The sound of her rapid footsteps caught Luke’s attention. “What are you so nervous about? It’s not like he’s the president of the United States or anything.”
Mandy wiped her sweaty palm on her slacks and then grasped the doorknob. In a low voice, she said, “Stuff a sock in it. You promised to be on your best behavior.”
As she drew open the door, Mandy pasted on a smile, praying it didn’t look as stiff as it felt. And then she forgot everything but the cowboy on her steps. Haloed by the porch light, he looked so incredible that handsome didn’t begin to describe him. The Wranglers, riding boots, and Stetson seemed natural on him, and his loose-hipped stance displayed his trim, muscular build to perfection. His eyes, gleaming in the light, were what really made her heart race, though. Coffee dark, they had a way of looking into her instead of at her, making her feel transparent and a little breathless. Rosebud stood beside him. One of his big hands gripped the handle of her harness.
“Hi,” she pushed out, and then wished she’d said something else. What, she didn’t know. She drew the door wide and gestured to welcome him in. “You’re right on time.”
“It’s a failing of mine,” he said. His voice, laced with amusement, made her wonder whether he knew how nervous she felt.
Mandy realized she hadn’t stepped back to allow him in and kicked
her feet into reverse so fast that she snagged the two-inch heel of her left slip-on sandal on the carpet. Low-heeled shoes were a weakness of hers. Because she didn’t often go to an office, dressing up a bit made her feel more professional and productive. For a horrible second, she pictured herself falling backward in a sprawl, but Zach snaked out a hand to catch her arm and steadied her just in time. At his touch, a tingle of warmth shot from her elbow to her shoulder. She was glad when he quickly released his hold on her.
“Careful, there.” He glanced down at her shoes and quirked an eyebrow. “Ankle breakers again? What you need are some nice, sensible boots.”
Mandy figured she was more in need of lessons in graceful comportment. “Come in, come in. Luke and I are so excited to have you here.” She smiled at Rosebud. “Both of you.” Turning toward her brother, she cued him with, “Aren’t we, Luke?”
Luke didn’t strike Zach as being very enthusiastic. He slumped at the end of a tweed sofa, not even bothering to turn his head in their direction. Zach wondered if the kid spent most of his life there, letting his sister wait on him. But then he gave himself a hard mental shake. He’d come here determined to give Luke a fair chance, and he would do exactly that.
“Hi, Mr. Harrigan,” Luke said, his tone not exactly warm, but not cold and resentful, either. “I’m glad you agreed to come.”
“I’m glad to be here,” Zach replied. “Good to see you again, Luke.”
Luke’s mouth curved in a tight smile. “Sorry about my behavior the other day.”
Mandy released a little laugh and pressed her palms together. Then she circled Zach and Rosebud to close the front door. With a wave of her hand, she said, “Excuse the house. I cleaned today, but it’s small, and we clutter it up pretty fast.”
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