If he was trying to score points by telling her he’d kept his word about the car, she wasn’t willing to let him off. Another memory rose—another possible deception. “So when you showed up at my birthday party, Dad’s surprise over seeing you was…? Please, fill in the blank for me.”
A short silence. “If you remember, I’d asked you to tell him I was coming with you.”
“Oh, my bad,” she shot back. “You should have called and told him you were coming, since I’m certain you have his number.”
No need to mention the burner cell where Avery’s number was stored. “Well, I didn’t. His surprise was genuine, but he covered it well.”
She thought of the stories she’d told Austin of her childhood, of how she’d leaned on him, trusted him with her deepest source of pain. “So when the two of you met at the coffee shop, did my father also tell you about Caroline? Or did you just listen when I talked about her to be polite?”
Austin understood her deeper concern. An act of betrayal contained levels and degrees, all the way from little white lies to no-way-back. He twisted his chair in the grass to face her, rested his forearms along his thighs, and without flinching, zeroed in on her gaze. “No, Kenzie. He never said a word to me about the daughter he lost. He only wanted me to be fiercely vigilant over the daughter he still had. And loved. Everything I know about your sister, I’ve heard from you. And I hold your confidences close, all of them. A sacred trust, Kenzie. My word of honor.”
Her heartbeat, rapid with dread, slowed. If Austin was telling the truth, then that part of herself—those often-raw and bleeding feelings—were still between the two of them. His expression looked sincere, and with everything inside her, she wanted to believe him.
“You should also know that you were right about Billy being the person who vandalized your SUV.” He subtly shifted the conversation’s direction and leaned back in the chair.
His words gave her whiplash. “He…he was? How do you know for sure? Do you have proof?”
“Hold on. There’s no physical evidence, but I know it’s true because I went to see him that night you were in the hospital, and he told me he’d done it and he wasn’t sorry.”
“What did you say to him?”
“We discussed boundaries and how he’d stepped over the line.”
Images of flying fists. Billy wouldn’t have had much of a chance against the larger, more muscled Austin. “What did you do to him?”
“Unimportant. Let’s just say we came to an understanding. Nothing’s going to stop him from soring his horses, but he won’t bother you anymore.”
The certainty in Austin’s voice gave her pause, yet she didn’t press him for more details. “All right, so how did he find my car in that parking lot? That shopping trip was impromptu, spur of the moment.”
“The attack on your car wasn’t premeditated. It really was a crime of opportunity. Billy saw us leaving the hospital that day we talked to Lani about Jamey Taylor. He followed us to the mall, gave us enough time to walk to the main boulevard. He popped your window, and even though your car alarm was going full blast, he slashed the seats and took off. Probably took him less than two minutes. Maximum damage in minimum time.”
The news was sobering. She’d never liked Billy, knew the kind of person he was, but hadn’t meant to start a war with him. She shouldered some of the responsibility for damage to her SUV. “Why was Billy at the hospital?”
“He’d been visiting his grandfather in the Alzheimer’s unit.”
“What? Bill Hixson has Alzheimer’s? I didn’t know.”
“According to Billy boy, his grandfather has dementia, and his family moved him from Nashville to a Windemere care facility to keep the media out of it for as long as possible. He’s been there for several months.” Austin rolled his shoulders. “Dementia is a harsh sentence, but he won’t be hurting horses again.”
Kenzie thought back to summer days from when Bill showed up at their stables wearing a grin and asking Kenzie and Caroline, “How are the two prettiest little girls in the county today?” How friendly and nice she’d thought him in those days. She wondered if her father knew what had happened to his former trainer.
She had other questions but heard Mamie neigh and looked over to see the Appaloosa trot to the side of the pasture fence nearest the trailhead. Moments later, Sparkle came into view with her rider, Elaine, and Charlie on the other horse close behind. Kenzie and Austin met them at the hitching post.
“Oh wow,” Elaine said after dismounting. “What a wonderful ride. She responded to every command. I love her!”
Charlie dismounted, wrapped his reins around the post. “Nothing finer than a ride on a Tennessee walking horse.” He stroked the neck of the quarter horse he’d ridden. “This boy’s a beaut, but his gaits can’t match Miss Sparkle’s.”
Kenzie wiped Sparkle’s lathered neck, beaming. “We’ll cool her down.”
“Let me do that,” Elaine said, glancing at her husband. “We want to take her home with us.”
“Just happen to have my horse trailer parked up by the front barn. Brought it just in case.” Charlie added a sly wink.
Austin took the reins of Charlie’s mount. “I’ll take care of this one while you three handle the details for Sparkle.”
Kenzie watched him lead the horse away, feeling disjointed over their talk and the emotions it had stirred up. She returned to the task at hand, stripping Sparkle of her tack. Elaine started the cool-down walk around the open space, and Charlie grabbed a brush from the bucket in the stable for grooming.
Kenzie stored the tack, then went to her desk to look for paperwork, her mind still on Austin. She had more-complex questions for him, but perhaps it was better to leave it this way. Time was growing short. She’d go home for the promised visit with her parents. Classes would begin. Another semester. Another season. Another loss. This time, her connection with Austin Boyd. The night of the wedding was long gone, too, and the memory of being in his arms, one she must bury.
“We’re finished,” Elaine announced from the doorway.
Kenzie folded her memories, put them away.
“You ready to let us adopt a horse?” Charles asked.
“Certainly! Let’s seal the deal.”
* * *
—
Later that night, under a canopy of stars, Austin walked the grounds of Bellmeade with Soldier at his side. Reaching down, he scratched the top of the big dog’s white head. “Gonna miss you, boy.” The burner cell vibrated, and he dug it out of his jeans, saw Caller 2 on the readout. It had been a while since they’d talked.
“I’m here.”
“Something’s come up.” The words sounded ominous. “Did you know you made the local papers?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Some local reporter did an interview with a couple who lost a daughter to cancer. The newspaper gave the feel-good story a full-page spread.”
Austin’s heart sank. “I didn’t know. Who reads the local paper?”
“The reporter wrote glowingly about the generosity of some nurse who loaned the parents a horse to fulfill their girl’s dying wish. They had photos in the story too—you and Kenzie unloading the horse, their daughter on the horse, their house decorated for Christmas for the girl. It made for a fine teary-eyed read.” His tone was caustic.
Austin groaned. Beside him, Soldier alerted. “We were just being Good Samaritans.”
“Not finished,” the man snapped. “And they also told the reporter about how, when you came to retrieve the horse, Kenzie collapsed and Austin Boyd kept her safe until EMTs showed up.”
Austin gritted his teeth, worked his jaw. “I did what had to be done. She was in serious medical trouble.”
“Of course.” The man sighed, resigned. “Has she recovered?”
“Completely.”
“That’s good, because I know how you feel about her. But let me be clear, I want you out of there as soon as possible.”
“I can’t just walk out right now.”
“You can’t stay either.”
“Look, I’ll leave when she does. Another couple of weeks.”
“Are you defying me?”
“Nonnegotiable. I made a promise. I won’t break it.” Austin broke the connection and shoved the phone into his jeans.
Kenzie watched the teenage girl and her mother coming toward the stable, the girl with a pronounced limp and leaning on a cane, her mother keeping a slow pace alongside her. Their call to come and check out Blue Bayou for adoption had come last night. Kenzie was nervous, because if any horse needed just the right owner, it was Blue.
“Hello. I’m Marilyn Williams, and this my daughter, Sarah.” The woman offered her hand when she reached the hitching post.
“And I’m Kenzie.”
“Is this the horse? He’s lovely.”
“The one and only.” Kenzie backed away from the big gelding, unsaddled but bridled and tied to the post. She was nervous about how Blue might react to a cane. Bill had used canes to threaten and strike horses, and Blue’s former owner might have also. Kenzie watched Blue’s ears. They twitched but didn’t flatten. A good sign. Sarah came closer, keeping her cane close to the side of her leg.
“Can I offer him a treat?” Sarah asked.
“He loves treats.”
Sarah reached into her shirt pocket, removed a carrot stub, and held it out on a flattened palm for Blue to sniff. His lips closed over the offering. As the horse chewed, Sarah smoothed her hand along his neck and down his withers. “He’s very handsome.” Her long hair was as dark as Blue’s bay coat.
Kenzie hadn’t saddled Blue for the girl to ride because of what her mother, Marilyn, had told her on the phone. Sarah’s picky, and if she decides she’d rather not ride, we’ll be on our way. The decision is entirely hers.
Sarah’s hand swept over Blue’s side, his wide back and hindquarters, down his powerful hind leg, assessing the horse with knowledgeable eyes. Kenzie realized Sarah was no novice. “I’ve never owned a walking horse, but I’ve ridden a few. I’d like to ride Blue.”
“I’ll saddle him.”
“Do you have English tack?”
Marilyn added, “Sarah’s wearing an inflexible knee brace.” Sarah’s left leg, the traditional mounting leg, was her affected limb.
“I have a mounting block and English tack,” Kenzie said. “Bellmeade has an exercise track. And a riding trail. Your choice.”
“The track is preferable.”
Kenzie scurried off to grab the saddle, knowing that this would have been something Austin would be doing, but since their talk yesterday he’d made a habit of keeping away from the stable after finishing chores. Still, she missed him. Foolish sentiment, she thought. Parting had been on their schedules since day one.
Minutes later, Sarah was seated on Blue, stirrups adjusted for Sarah’s bad leg. They walked to the track, Kenzie beside the horse and rider, Marilyn’s hand on Blue’s neck. At the track, Blue walked onto the loamy turf, and Sarah gave Blue a nudge with her good leg. Kenzie stood with an anxious Marilyn at the rail, watching Blue and Sarah move down the track in the flat walk indigenous to the breed. “I can see Sarah’s a pro,” Kenzie ventured.
“A champion, actually. Her trophies are for steeplechase racing.”
“Don’t know much about that sport.”
Midway around the mile-long track, Sarah urged Blue into his running walk, a loping long stride and a Tennessee walker’s most mastered gait. Marilyn tensed. “Almost two years ago, her horse, Ballyhoo, missed a fence on a course and fell with Sarah. He landed on his side, crushed her leg. He was hurt so badly he had to be put down.”
Kenzie grimaced. “I’m so sorry.”
“Sarah was only sixteen. She’s been through several operations, has a leg full of pins and screws, and has spent eight months in physical therapy. She grieved for Ballyhoo every minute. Her dad and I promised her that as soon as her doctors allowed, we’d get another horse for her. No more jumpers, though. Her surgeon owns a walking horse and suggested Sarah try one.” Marilyn smiled wistfully. “When the time came, Sarah only wanted to look at rescue horses because most have been broken and put back together. Kinship. A fellow traveler,” she explained. “We’ve looked at several horses already, but she’s still undecided.”
“Hard to replace a horse you loved.” Hard to replace anything you love, Kenzie thought, sharing a knowing look with Marilyn. “Humans and horses are a lot more similar than people realize. The way you treat someone, no matter if it’s a person or a creature, can have a lifelong impact.”
Sarah and Blue rounded the turn, and coming into the stretch, she heeled him into a full canter. Blue switched into the distinctive rocking chair motion inherit in his DNA. Marilyn remained white-knuckled at the rail.
“Your daughter’s an excellent rider, and Blue was once a champion himself in the show ring. From where I’m standing, they look like a single unit moving together.” A team. She shook away the implications that came with the thought.
Moments later, Sarah reined in Blue and met Kenzie and Marilyn at the gate. “He’s not even breathing hard.” A smile lit Sarah’s eyes. “Well trained.”
“Yes, he is,” Kenzie said, seeing in her mind’s eye the days and weeks Austin had spent working with Blue and teaching him to overcome his fears and trust people again. She glanced toward the stable, half hoping to see Austin standing in the stable’s doorway. He wasn’t, and in that moment, she was struck by finality. Once he left, he would never stand there again.
* * *
—
Five straight days of rain broke the heat spell. With the rain came boredom. The horses were cooped up, restless. And so was Kenzie. She and Austin did what work they could, and although Austin remained helpful, he wasn’t nearly as talkative or attentive as he’d been in the past. He arrived, did his job, left early. Neither spoke of their earlier rift, no more questions were asked or answered, and they never recaptured the playfulness of previous summer days.
Kenzie was shutting down for the evening when Ciana, on foot, swung into the stable. “How’s it going?”
“Good, now that the sun’s reappeared. I’m heading to the house. Walk with me.”
Ciana fell into step beside her. “Any news about Blue’s adoption?” Kenzie shook her head. “The poor horse was a mess when he arrived. You’ve done a fine job of rehabbing him. If you’re gone before he’s adopted, I’ll handle the transaction.” Another nod. “When are you leaving?”
“Saturday morning.”
“And Austin?”
She didn’t want Ciana to know about problems between her and Austin. It was enough that Lani knew and might say something after Kenzie was gone. “He hasn’t told me, but I’m guessing soon. Every good thing must end.”
“And speaking of ending, I have a question for you. Do you think you’d like take this job again next summer?”
Kenzie stopped in the middle of the path. “Are you serious?”
“Dr. Perry is impressed, and said so. Jon said you’d be most welcome to take on more rescues next summer. I told him I’d ask you. We know Austin won’t return, but Jon will hire another helper for you.”
Another helper. Kenzie found it hard to get her head around the idea. “Certainly I’ll come back. I love this job!” She paused, contemplating how best to frame her concerns. Vet visits, required inoculations, extra feed, and grain and nutrition didn’t come cheap for three horses, especially abandoned and abused ones. “Ciana, I know you’ve had extra expenses this summer. The sales of Sparkle and Blue will help offset costs, but I’m sure we’ve used up Dr. Kay’s donation by now. Next summer, I’ll work for free.”
&nbs
p; Ciana laughed. “No way! You’ll be paid, and no worries, the program is in good financial shape.” They emerged onto the lawn where sunlight cast their shadows across the clipped grass. “All summer, Austin’s had us deposit his paycheck in a special savings account. He told Jon to donate the money to next year’s rescue program, especially if you were coming back. Jon said he’d send the money to him if you didn’t return. And now you’ve said you will!”
Kenzie’s chest tightened, and moisture crept into her eyes. “I didn’t know.”
Ciana scrunched her face. “Maybe he was saving it as a surprise? Really sorry if I stole his thunder. Please act surprised if he tells you.”
* * *
—
Kenzie ate a microwave dinner on Friday night and packed up her belongings. She would buzz clean the bungalow in the morning and head home, fulfilling her promise to her parents. Ciana would care for Mamie and Blue until Sarah made up her mind. With her checklist complete and feeling restless, Kenzie stepped out onto her patio to watch the moon rise over the tree line. With the night, the day’s warmth was gone, the air felt cooler, softer. Tree frogs were now silent, and fireflies few. Nature was slowly rotating toward another season. From behind her, Austin’s voice cut through the quiet. “Incoming.”
A warm glow spread through her, head to toe. She spun, offered a smile. “I used to think summers between school years went fast, but this one set a speed record.”
He came alongside her. “I agree.”
Austin had purposely busied himself all week working in the big barn, mostly to avoid alone time with Kenzie. Now, seeing her in the moonlight was unsettling. Leaving her should be done quickly, like cauterizing a wound. Pain came with the burn, but also sealed the gash.
The Girl with the Broken Heart Page 18
