Morgan's Walk

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Morgan's Walk Page 2

by Suzelle Johnston


  “Yeah, I’m just holding onto the moment. I wish Chase could see this. He’d be thrilled.”

  “Yes, he would. But honey, I believe he is. You can’t be on Morgan’s Walk without feeling the man’s presence. It’s easy to imagine him leaning against the wall watching everything that’s going on.”

  “I know.” Tyndal rubbed her arms as if chilled and glanced toward the peephole she knew was there. Sighed. “Chase never missed a birth if he could help it. He’d get such a kick out of this one. I don’t know, maybe it’s because the baby is Raj in miniature. Same bone structure, same expression in his eyes.”

  “God help us if he inherited his temperament.”

  “You mean born one day, ruler of the world the next?” Tyndal laughed. Seth pulled open the stall door. “By the way,” she said, “good luck with Fee. You may need it.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  Jared agreed. But regardless of luck, it was time for him to greet Tyndal. Probably beyond time. No matter how their past stood between them, they’d both changed. He pulled back from the peephole thinking of the woman the girl had become.

  The sharp fist bump on the nearest board reminded him of what else he’d forgotten.

  “Hello, Jared Grant.” Her tone made him grin. “You can come out now,” she added. “I hope you have splinters. Do you honestly think I wouldn’t know?”

  There was just enough acid to sting.

  “I should have remembered you always felt it when I was around.” He stepped into the corridor the same moment she came from the stall. “Hello, Tyndal.”

  Since she didn’t appear receptive to casual pleasantries, he didn’t offer any. Or move to touch her. He simply nodded. “I have to say you’re right about your new foal, though. He has inherited quite a legacy. Chase would be proud.”

  He didn’t add that because Chase taught him to be a man, he’d want him to fix things with the woman who waited in the present.

  “You came.”

  He doubted it was only fatigue that caused her voice to catch, or drain her face of what little color it had.

  “I didn’t know if you would. It’s been so long.”

  “Too long.”

  ****

  Unable to stop herself, Tyndal studied Jared. The man’s jeans fit his long legs perfectly. And he wore a silk shirt as casually as other men wore cotton. Not that it mattered one way or the other. She could care less how he looked. No doubt, he was still the same Jared Grant on the inside. Plus, he was just supposed to show some wonder horse of his to Fionola, then leave. So far she had no idea when he intended to do that.

  She did need air. She wanted to think. Maybe kick something. She settled for walking to the supply room where Fionola was returning the supplies they hadn’t used with Bhetami. “Your guest has arrived. Is Seth still around?”

  “Kitchen. Tyndal, why didn’t you tell me Jared was here?”

  Before she could answer, Fionola all but flew to the guy, taking his face between her hands, planting a kiss on each cheek. “My dearest boy, when did you get in? Welcome, welcome home. There’s a suite for you at the house. It’s yours for as long as you can stay.”

  “Thank you.” Jared lifted her hands to his lips, kissed each one. “You’re as beautiful as I remember.”

  “And you’re still a charmer! Seth, look who’s here!” At Fionola’s voice, Seth stepped into the hall, a warm smile lighting his face.

  Watching Jared, how he smiled and seemed so at ease standing in the barn, chatting with the two people she loved best, Tyndal’s stomach churned into a knot. The guy was a charmer all right.

  “Well, aren’t you a welcome sight.” Drying his hands on a towel, Seth crossed to Jared, pulled him in for a hug. “It’s good to see you again. I was over at Timberline the other day and got an earful from your dad. Did you come here from the ranch?”

  “Yeah, I spent last week there. My brother and his wife joined us for the weekend. Shelby’s about to pop any day now and none of us can wait for the baby to be born.”

  Fionola laughed. “Last month your mother and I flew to Denver to shop. Constance bought a bright blue stuffed calf. Life-sized, no less. I didn’t believe it when she said she intended to put it in her living room.”

  “She did. Chippendale, Waterford, and a cow. That kid, boy or girl, is going to know how to rope and tie by the time it’s out of diapers.”

  “Fee said she asked you to bring one of your horses.” Seth looked at Jared. “I assume it’s Pyralis?”

  “It is.” Jared nodded. “If you don’t mind, I need to unload him. He’s still in the trailer. I’d like to let him run.”

  “You can put him in the arena if you want. With all the excitement, I forgot about your horse. He’s an Irish Thoroughbred, right?” Fionola smiled.

  “He is. And just as capricious as any leprechaun.”

  Pictures of wizened little dancing men slightly shorter than their hats jigged across Tyndal’s imagination. She didn’t find it funny.

  “Okay.” Fionola laughed. “You and Tyndal go ahead while I put in an order for some shamrocks. Whenever you’re ready, come up to the house. I know you’re anxious to settle in.”

  Settle in? Tyndal coughed. It was either that or choke. Especially since what she wanted to do was help him settle into his truck. If only she could breathe again. Think again. Jared Grant, at Morgan’s Walk? No, she wasn’t over him. How could she be?

  She stared up at the tall, quiet man whose eyes gleamed with amusement as they met hers. “Let’s go then,” she murmured. “Though I’m sure you don’t need me to show you to the arena. You’ve been in it often enough.”

  “Yes, that’s true, but I’d miss the pleasure of your company.”

  For the life of her, Tyndal couldn’t think of a word to say. The silence continued during the eternity it took to walk across the parking lot, as Jared unlocked the trailer, and led out his horse. The fidgety animal was covered nose to tail with a travel blanket, his legs cocooned in thick cotton wraps. In spite of all the padding, the creature was magnificent.

  When Fionola joined them, she said much the same. “Bravo, Jared, you have a winner in this one. Look at the expression in his eyes. He’s just like the description I’ve heard. Big, Bold, and Beautiful.”

  With Fee doling out the oohs and ahhs like they were candy, Tyndal didn’t see the need to add more. If she felt generous, she could credit the guy for caring about his horse. His eyes warmed and glowed as he checked Pyralis. At least that hadn’t changed. Otherwise, there seemed to be very little of the boy she’d known in the man tending the huge stallion, removing the wraps and blanket.

  “Ladies, allow me to introduce Pyralis.” Jared tugged lightly on the lead. “And you, son, mind your manners.”

  Playing to his audience, the horse preened and danced for Fionola. With Tyndal, he dropped all the fuss and stepped to her side. She reached up to stroke the long forehead.

  “Seems you still have the touch,” Jared stood at Tyndal’s shoulder.

  She jumped. “Don’t sneak up on me.”

  “I didn’t sneak.”

  Fionola’s giggle broke the silence. “While you two get reacquainted, I’m calling it a night. Seth took another call and is gone already. As I said, Jared, welcome home. Tyndal will show you to your suite whenever you’re ready.”

  Returning Fionola’s wave, Tyndal worried. What, was she supposed to play hostess now?

  “You’re quiet, Tyndal.”

  “No. Well, maybe. I was wondering about Pyralis. It’s an unusual name.” Undisturbed by the tension swirling in the air, the horse pulled at his lead, then stepped closer to Tyndal—moving from her hair to inspecting her knees, her boots, her breath. As with all creatures that’d never be truly tamed, the animal was memorizing her scent, learning about her. Tyndal was more comfortable with his scrutiny than with the man who faced her. Though his eyes were familiar, he was different. This man commanded respect. Maybe fear. He was known to
be ruthless in competition.

  And the silence was murder.

  “I mean, does it have a particular meaning?” She stroked the stallion’s massive shoulders and wondered how long she could keep up such a brilliant conversation.

  “A good question and yes, it does. Pyralis is a Greek word that means ‘of fire.’ I’d flown to Ireland looking for a horse. This guy was too young”—Jared smiled—“but within minutes he convinced me that I’d found the one I wanted. He’s the color of flames when the sun is right. And just short-tempered enough to deserve his reputation of being the fire-breathing dragon. It’s good to see you again, Tyndal. I didn’t know you’d be here.”

  Feeling her heart thud to a flat stop, Tyndal looked from the horse to the man she once believed would be the love of her life. Fionola hadn’t said anything? Not a word? She’d positively gushed to her about Jared this and Jared that for days.

  “She didn’t? I mean, you didn’t? Oh. Well. Of course not. Why would you?”

  Babbling. She was reduced to babbling. Tyndal chewed her lower lip. Could she be any sillier? Probably. It was mortifying. “Well, anyway. I’ve certainly heard a lot about the two of you. From Fionola, of course. I mean, it’s not like I’ve been buying magazines to read about you.” She paused, caught his smile. Wanted to swear.

  “Look, if you’d get your horse, I’ll show you to his stall. The stables are almost full right now with the crowd coming in for the Classic.” Had she thought ahead, she’d have chosen a different route through the barn complex since Jake was on guard at Bhetami’s stall. But introductions needed to be made.

  “Hold on. Stop there.” She put her hand on Jared’s arm, snatched it away like she’d been burned. “Sorry. Just stand here, okay? Don’t move.”

  And with that, another question was answered. Yes, she could make a complete fool of herself. How was she supposed to know it’d feel like touching thunder and lightning just putting her hand on his arm? “I have to introduce you to Jake,” she said, irritably. “He gets territorial when there’s a newborn. He’s on baby-watch.”

  “It’s okay, Tyndal. Take it easy. You don’t have to treat me like a guest, though I appreciate the introduction. I’d prefer to keep my arms where they are rather than provide your great beast with a bone to chew. I remember you were fond of large dogs.”

  “Still am.” At Tyndal’s direction, Jake sniffed at Jared, gave him a long, level stare from intelligent eyes, then trotted back to his post.

  “How long will he stay on duty?”

  “Until I make him leave.” Tyndal stopped at a large, vacant stall. “This is yours. When you’re finished”—she motioned toward the horse—“I’ll show you your suite.”

  “Give me five minutes and I’ll meet you out front.”

  She nodded and left him to it. Fine. Good. Great. Nothing felt right. She walked outside, watched the moon pearl toward morning, and tried for a composure she didn’t feel. Jared Grant, a name and so much more. At the sound of his footsteps, she straightened. All she had to do was deliver him to the house, show him to his room. Then?

  Maybe find a bucket, fill it with ice water, and soak her head. That made sense.

  “I appreciate you finding a stall for Pyralis. I remember what it was like around here during the Classic. But Morgan’s Walk is still wonderful. Everywhere I look, it’s beautiful.” Jared fell into step at her side. “I’ve missed this place.”

  At a loss, Tyndal stared at him. He missed the place. Whoopee. What about her? Hadn’t he ever, even once, missed her? What about all the times they laughed together, chasing up and down the steps, tossing Fionola’s pretty little porch pillows at one another? Or turning on the hose and spraying themselves as well as the unsuspecting, which meant spraying Chase and Fee as everyone picnicked in the hot summer sun? No, of course, he didn’t think about that. He missed the place. Without a word, she flung open the carved front door, hoping with any luck that in fifteen minutes, Fionola’s “dear boy” would be in his room.

  Alone.

  ****

  Jared paused as Tyndal opened the door to the house. Took a breath. If the barns were familiar, this was even more so. He’d spent a lot of time within these walls. Shared in a lot of conversations. With Chase. With Fee. With a little girl. He smiled as he studied the great room.

  It was a commanding space that could have been cold, but Fionola and Chase filled it with warmth. Easy, welcoming sofas and chairs arranged in intimate groups for conversation flanked the massive, stone fireplace. Tall windows along each wall invited light while amber and ruby-glassed lamps reflected their colors onto the hickory floors. The entire space was open to the rafters, its expanse crowned by brilliant chandeliers cascading with crystals and light. He breathed it in, the welcome and the peace.

  Especially the peace. It was even sweeter to find he could still make Tyndal bristle. Deliberately taking his time studying the intricate woodwork, he remembered how a small boy once felt at home within these walls. And where, a lifetime ago, that same boy fell in love with the granddaughter of the man who knew it as home.

  Looking at her as she lightly climbed the steps ahead of him, feeling her nearness and knowing there were so many memories between them, he wondered about their long-ago dreams. She’d won every honor attainable in her career. He had five Olympic Gold medals. She was the international prima dressage rider. He held several world championships in show jumping and cross-country eventing. She’d found her place, training and making a home at Morgan’s Walk. He had houses across the world, but none he called home. Maybe that’s what was missing. Chase told him a man needed two things—a place where he belonged, and love to fill the empty spaces.

  “Remember when we were kids how we loved to slide down this?” Jared tested the banister, grinned at Tyndal. He hadn’t expected to feel this punch, this awareness of her, of woman. Maybe he should have, but he hadn’t. And with the early morning sunlight from the clerestory windows slanting across her face? She definitely wasn’t a child.

  “Yeah, well, kids do that sort of thing.” Her voice poured over him like warm cream.

  “Fionola laughed and scolded us every time she caught us—but I think it was mostly for form. I bet she did the exact same thing when nobody looked.”

  “You can think that if you want, but I never caught her at it. Here’s your suite.” She opened the door for him to enter, stepped to one side. “Best in the house. I’m sure Fee arranged for refreshments somewhere in there. Dinner’s at seven. So, if you don’t need anything else, I’ll see you later?”

  “Certainly. Thanks, Tyndal. I appreciate the trouble you’ve taken for Pyralis and me. We’ll be fine.” He could have added that she was also wrong. Seeing him later wasn’t a question. It was a promise.

  One he intended to keep.

  Chapter Two

  One glance and Jared knew there would be three for dinner after all. Pine logs sizzled in the hearth and scented the air. Fionola rested in front of the fire, her eyes closed, an empty cup sat on the table at the side of her chair. Seth was bent over his boots, pulling them off at the entry, and Tyndal was nowhere in sight.

  “They say a person can never go home again”—Jared bent to whisper in Fionola’s ear—“but I have to say, it feels like I might prove them wrong.”

  “Wandering the world has its moments, but I never found it could replace this.” Opening her eyes, she smiled, and took his hand.

  Jared kissed her cheek as Seth joined them. “Hey, son. Fee. You two make a nice picture. Reminds me of old times.”

  “Look at this! Wonderful! Everyone’s arrived at once!” Fionola laughed, and Jared felt the knot of tension that built with seeing Tyndal loosen. If anything could make him settle, it was the sound of Fee’s laughter. Chase was the calm, serious one and Fionola, his exact opposite.

  “Nope, not everyone. Tyndal’s at the barn,” Seth said, and held out his hands toward the fire. Jared caught Seth’s nod in his direction, as well as the smile he had
for the woman standing at his side. It touched him, that smile. He walked across the room and poured two cups of coffee from the silver service on the antique buffet. Keeping one, Jared handed the other to Seth, and turned to Fionola.

  “More tea, Miss Fee?” When her lips quirked up at his use of the rhyme and the name he’d had for her when he was a boy, he grinned in return. “If you’ll sit down and make yourself comfortable, I’ll fill your cup.”

  “How could I resist such a sweet offer?”

  “Thanks, son.” Seth sipped his coffee and nodded, planting himself in the deep leather cushions of the chair. “Thank God for some heat. I left my truck at the barn and found out walking up here that it’s colder than I’d expected.” He turned toward Fionola. “Tyndal is concerned, my dear. She said you’re worrying.” He touched her cheek. “What’s on your mind?”

  Standing to one side of the fireplace, Jared knew Fee wasn’t the least bit worried. Earlier, she’d told him how thrilled she was with the foal, with Bhetami, and having Tyndal home. All this concern wasn’t about Fionola. It was about a very clever granddaughter. At Fee’s slow smile, Jared figured she put it together as well.

  “Actually,” she replied with hardly any hesitation, “what’s on my mind is the Classic. We have to get serious about our plans for this year. You know how it is.”

  “I do.” Seth grimaced. “That’s why I try not to let myself think about it too much.”

  “I can sympathize. But since you’re both here”—Fionola stood—“I hope to talk through a few ideas. Would you stay?” She smiled at Seth.

  His face lit up. “Thanks, Fee. I wasn’t expecting dinner. It’s been quite a day.”

  “You’ve had a long one, for sure.” Following them into the dining room, Jared took a seat across the table, looked around the room. “I’ve had a number of good meals at this table, made a lot of good memories.”

  “I can still see you and Tyndal flying around here on one horse or another. You two were inseparable.” Fionola tilted her head.

 

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