“Just a few more minutes.” Avery reached down to rub the cat’s ears and found her hand snagged lightly by an unsheathed claw. “Hey,” she said softly, “what’s up with you?”
As those intelligent green eyes stared up into hers, she accepted that the feline didn’t have his stomach on his mind for once.
Dirks seemed to have reached the same conclusion as he said, “I think we’d better see what this guy wants.”
Trouble dropped to four paws at the statement and once again had Avery wondering - truly wondering - if the cat, rather than acting on intonation as most animals did, understood their actual words. It should have been an eerie thought but somehow it wasn’t.
She supposed it would have looked odd to an observer for the two humans to fall in step behind the cat, picking up their pace as – after a glance back to ascertain their obedience – he began to trot toward the closest field. Fortunately, none of her team was around to witness.
Moments later, she forgot how silly they might have appeared as she stared in horror at the dead animal floating just below the surface of the water. Not a bird, her mind registered. That would have been a concern but it did happen from time to time. They kept bleach handy because diseased birds sought water and sometimes perished in their attempt to drink. But never had she seen a rat drown in one of the troughs.
“I need to check the other fields,” she said numbly.
Apparently satisfied he had their attention focused in the right direction, Trouble no longer attempted to lead or corral them but kept pace as she and Dirks walked in silence from one pasture and one trough to the next. She was sickened as they found one dead animal after another floating in water that was critical to the horses’ well-being.
At the last tub, she turned to Dirks and said slowly, “This doesn’t fit. Nothing fits together. It’s almost as if I’m dealing with two different threats.”
Dirks nodded. “This is more along the lines of childish temper. Like your tack being slashed by your ex. Nothing as dangerous as bullets fired.”
For a moment, she wanted to agree but it was worse than Dirks, who didn’t know the world of horses, could realize at first glance. “This is very dangerous to the animals. Horses won’t drink contaminated water. That’s why I won’t use self-watering systems though that technology has become much better in recent years. We check each water source every single day.”
“So this was done at some point during the last twenty-four hours?” Dirks sounded dubious.
“Maybe less than that but I’ll have to check with Leanne and Tucker. In the summer, they sometimes check morning and night. Whoever did this put every horse out here at a real risk of a blocked gut and colic. Colic kills more horses than probably any other health issue. And that – the threat to the horses – is the part that just doesn’t fit.”
Dirks raised his brow questioningly as Avery hesitated. She suspected her next revelation might give the kiss of death to her dream of adding a veteran therapy program to the ranch lineup. “Sheriff Farley says Craig has angered some really bad, really dangerous people. He’s desperate to pay what he owes them. He may be a threat to me because he’d always hoped he could later convince Carlee to help him out with money, but he needs the horses. He needs the cash they represent. I just don’t see contaminated water being something he’d risk, not even to strike at me.”
* * *
Good girl. That was information Mr. Military needs so that he’s not chasing a rabbit down an empty hole. There’s much more to all of this than even I initially surmised. However as the next step here – as I understand it once the dead varmints are removed – is to sanitize the tubs with great quantities of bleach, I believe I shall absent myself. The strong odor of bleach has a devastating effect on my sense of smell and that would interfere greatly with my pleasure in my next meal which, alas, appears will be delayed even longer.
* * *
After helping Avery disinfect and scrub the water troughs, Dirks went back to work on the wiring while she refilled each with clean water. He heard the sound of Tucker’s diesel returning so wasn’t surprised when the young man rejoined him. He filled the younger man in on the dead creatures that had been deposited in every water trough and – recalling what Avery had said about the health threat to the animals – wasn’t at all surprised by the low, vicious curses the vet uttered.
“Sorry, but that’s pretty low to a snake’s belly,” Tucker concluded.
“Agreed.” Dirks climbed down from positioning the last camera. “I don’t suppose your rounds with the neighbors turned up anything.”
“Actually, yeah, but nothing I can take to the sheriff as a problem. Guy on a fancy motorcycle, lots of chrome. Heard mention of him at two different places.”
“Motorcycle?” Something tugged at Dirks’ memory.
“Unfortunately, one said Harley, one said Goldwing. Go figure. At least they now know to be on the lookout and paying attention to the details. Strangers attract attention in an outlying rural area like this.” He shot Dirks a look. “You have at any rate. And Markham was noticed as well but mostly because of that ridiculously fancy rig he was driving.”
They shared a smile but it was brief and Dirks’ next question was dead serious. “If someone wanted to scare Ms. Wilson – really scare her – where would they strike?”
“Carlee or Jack,” Tucker said without hesitation. “Carlee’s pretty savvy and she’ll be watchful and cautious. And Avery will be just down the hall from her and even more careful. But I’ll be sleeping – and sleeping lightly – within hearing of Jack’s barn tonight and Leanne plans to be right at his stall door.”
Dirks suspected he, himself, wouldn’t be sleeping much at all. Not until Avery and her ranch were out of danger.
Chapter Seven
Avery awakened to a feeling of absolute panic and for a moment sat up waiting and listening. As remnants of dreams of menace brushed through her mind, she forced herself to control her breathing which helped slow the rushed pumping of blood through her veins. Soft morning light had begun to filter through the light curtains at her windows proving it was later than she usually slept yet she didn’t feel rested.
Moments later, coffee mug in hand, she stood in front of the small but crystal clear monitors grouped on her kitchen wall. Instead of the interior of foaling stalls, they were now focused outward toward the barn doors, all still solidly closed. She disliked, intensely, the need to keep their working horses up at night and knew she could not let this go on forever. Still, knowing them securely inside, had allowed her a few hours of actual sleep. It was, she mused, a good thing that none of the pregnant mares were close to term. And, anyway, only mares Tucker believed were ‘at risk’ were ever brought in for foaling. Avery kept her animals as close to their natural element as she possibly could. In truth, over the years, the foaling stalls and monitors had been used more often for injury or illness than for foaling. And, thank goodness, both injury and illness were rare. Vaccinations were kept current, feed was strictly regimented, and new horses were quarantined before being assimilated into pastures with the others. Illness did happen, though. There was no way to prevent the disease-carrying opossums and other rodents from contaminating the pastures.
That led her back to the tainted water troughs and the staggering reminder that the danger which had woven its way through her dreams in the pre-dawn hours was a real and tangible threat.
Sighing, she pulled her thoughts from the silent monitors to the view beyond the glass door leading to her garden. The first hint of sunrise edged the horizon, a faint tinge of pink brushing what promised to be a clear sky. When silken fur glided against her bare calf, she glanced down at the black cat who had invaded her life along with a militaristic human. Both were easy on the eye, but – also unfortunately – both were very much alpha males. Not what she would have wanted or needed pushing into what she’d planned to be a quiet life devoted to the equines and the people who needed her help. But now? She leaned her h
ead against the cool glass of the door.
Somehow, she had to return her ranch to normal operation but her hope that Craig would ‘give up and go away’ had been supplanted by the realization that he had introduced some unknown and potentially treacherous elements into her life. Ben’s warning, like his concern, had been crystal clear. Not just Avery herself, but her precious horses and perhaps the young woman she loved like a daughter, were all at risk.
Still, she couldn’t spend every moment fretting. She, as well as Tucker and Leanne, had appointments with clients most of the day and they needed to spend some time with the yearlings.
After a quick check of her phone calendar, she sent a brief text to Dirks that she’d unlocked the garden door for him to access the coffee pot and headed to the shower.
Thirty minutes later she emerged to find him comfortably at home in her kitchen, sliding a second perfectly cooked omelet from skillet to plate. She assumed it was the second because Trouble appeared to be enjoying the first. The black cat deigned to lift his head to give her a rather accusatory glance. She surmised he remained completely unimpressed with the rather expensive cat food she’d purchased for him.
She looked back at Dirks and wished she didn’t enjoy the sight of him standing there quite as much as she did. “Good morning.”
He handed her the omelet. “Good morning to you. You didn’t sleep well.” It wasn’t a question.
Ouch. “That bad, huh?” But she didn’t really have to ask. Her mirror had shown her the dark circles under her eyes as she’d skimmed her hair back into a pony tail to keep it from twining into ringlets by mid-morning.
Dirks smiled and she wondered rather inanely how a man with a high-ranking military career and all the burdens that entailed could have such pleasing laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. Those eyes seemed to be studying her appreciatively, despite the evidence of her restless night. Instead of answering her question, he asked about her schedule for the day.
“We’ve all got rather tight appointments today and tomorrow. Leanne’s and Tucker’s are all with clients. I have some clients later but also some workouts on horses that don’t need to be idle too long.” She didn’t add that she needed to make up for the lost time spent with her attorney and in court and simply dealing with the drama of Craig. She needed the routine, needed her horses, craved the quiet structure of an orderly life, craved, too, to hear that she would be approved for the next step in the future she had planned for the ranch. “I suppose you have research to do, papers to fill out, all of that.”
As a ploy to determine which direction Dirks would rule, it failed as all he did was nod and agree he had things to take care of as well.
They ate in surprisingly companionable silence until her phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID before answering. “Mr. Girard, good morning.”
* * *
Dirks tried not to eavesdrop but Avery was listening so intently and looking sadder by the minute. Sad but not alarmed, so his first protective instinct relaxed at the realization this was not some new threat.
“Of course, Mr. Girard, you’re welcome to bring Michael to say good-bye. We’ll miss both of you. Yes, it does sound like a wonderful opportunity, those kinds of promotions don’t get handed out every day.”
Dirks refilled her coffee, adding the unrefined sugar and dash of cream she preferred. She gave him a hint of smile but it was clear her mind remained with the conversation.
“I’m glad you’re going to continue with riding lessons for Michael. I agree they’ve done him a world of good and he’s already got such quiet, skilled hands. He’s made tremendous progress.”
She twisted her mug. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I have heard of Marbleson Farms, they’re a reputable facility. No. I’m sorry but you have it right, I don’t sell my horses.”
Dirks watched her eyes as she finished the conversation and looked up at him. The sadness lingered as she sighed and said, “I’ve got to pull my team together for a joint decision.”
“Should I leave?” he asked.
For a moment, she just studied him and he wondered what she was thinking, but then she shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. It isn’t a secret. I just need their input.”
He leaned back in his chair as Avery made quick calls to her team, telling himself he was only interested because of its bearing on his investigation. Everything he learned about the operation of the facility could have bearing of some sort or another.
Avery made a second carafe of coffee in the few minutes it took Carlee, Leanne and Tucker to reach her kitchen. Without answering any of the bombardment of questions as each came in the door, she moved them to the dining table so they could face each other as Tucker, the last to arrive, stepped into the house.
Taking a deep breath, Avery explained the phone call she’d received, finishing by saying, “Mr. Girard plans to buy a horse for Michael. I expect Marbleson Farms is completely capable of helping them select a safe animal.”
Tucker nodded, his blue eyes glinting behind wire-framed glasses. “Alabama? On the Eastern Shore of Mobile Bay? They’re more than reputable. I’ve actually been there a couple of times. It’s a cool place. I’d be more than willing to waive the fee on a pre-purchase exam.”
Avery smiled but Dirks noted the shadows hadn’t left her eyes. “I’m sure that would be appreciated and very helpful.”
“But unnecessary, right?” Leanne had her elbow propped on the table, chin in hand, a keen insight lighting her features.
“Perhaps, but that depends on what each of you has to say about my thoughts. You know how hard it was for Michael to learn to trust Silver Dollar. And, naturally, Mr. Girard is concerned about the hardship of this move to a new town on the boy. Coupled with new surroundings, starting over with another horse could prove a real setback for him. But we don’t sell horses here at Summer Valley.”
Carlee was second to catch on. She nodded slowly and her lips curved in the closest Dirks had come to seeing her smile. “Ah ... a gift.”
But it was to Tucker, Dirks noted, that Avery turned for final confirmation. The Connemara was in his barn, was his charge, as was young Michael. Dirks supposed he would know best of anyone if this would be right for Silver Dollar as well as for the little boy.
Slowly Tucker nodded. “It’s a good decision,” he said simply. “I’ll haul our girl there whenever they’re ready for her, meet with the barn manager and make sure everyone knows what they need to know to keep her well and happy.”
Avery drew a deep breath and let it go on a sigh. “That’s good, then. For both of them - for Michael and for Silver Dollar. The only stipulation I’ll make with Mr. Girard is that actual ownership of Silver Dollar remains with us. When it’s time for Michael to step up in size or her to retire, she comes back to us for a well-earned old age in comfort.”
* * *
A few hours later, Avery watched as Michael slowly exited his father’s truck, reluctance apparent in every line of his young body as he walked toward the paddock where Tucker held Silver Dollar’s lead line. The Connemara stood quietly watching and waiting as she’d been taught to do with her young charge. Most of their horses were encouraged to walk toward the clients, but the team had realized early on that it caused Michael discomfort so the ball, so to speak, was always in his court.
Michael’s father moved to stand beside Avery as his son entered the paddock and carefully closed the gate behind him. Avery smiled at the man briefly but immediately shifted her attention to the boy and the horse and the young vet.
“He knows he’s come to say good-bye,” his father told Avery quietly. “He’s decided not to ride today. He just wants to be with her.”
Michael stopped some few feet away from the pretty gray and Tucker spoke to him so quietly that Avery had to listen closely to hear.
“Good morning, Michael.”
The boy nodded without speaking. He rarely spoke and, on those rare occasions that he did, it was to the Connemara and sometimes through her to
communicate with Tucker. It appeared to Avery that his entire body leaned ever so slightly toward the little horse, but his feet remained anchored in the soft dirt of the paddock.
“Silver Dollar and I heard you were going to a grand new home,” Tucker said the words almost in a croon. “You’ll be close to the beach, there. Did you know that Connemara’s like Silver Dollar are island ponies?”
Again, Michael nodded, this time taking a half step toward the mare.
“I think it’d be unfair if this girl didn’t have the chance to get closer to the water, don’t you? And I think she’d be much too lonely without you if we were to keep her here while you’re there. She loves you, you know.”
Michael’s father laid his hand on Avery’s arm where it rested against the fence. “What? What’s he saying?”
Avery turned to face him then, saw the hope and the fear. “I don’t sell my horses, Mr. Girard, but I find I must sometimes give them where they’re needed most. Your son needs Silver Dollar and I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if Silver Dollar didn’t need him just as much. She’s timid with most of our clients but she’s been nothing but confident with Michael.”
Avery looked away from the tears in the man’s eyes as she fought her own. The sight of the child with both arms now wrapped around Silver Dollar’s neck was a bittersweet happiness. Bittersweet that modern medicine could not cure Michael, but happiness that his progress proved there was hope for his future. And happiness, too, that her team had been able to give him a gift and, in giving, prevent a heartbreak that would have been very real for him.
She felt the intensity of a stare on her and glanced around to find Dirks watching her with an unfathomable expression. He was probably wondering why she would give away a part of what she had fought so hard to keep, but – if that were the case and he didn’t understand – nothing she could say would help to clarify.
A Box Full of Trouble Page 66
