Morgan's Walk

by Suzelle Johnston

  “When I’m in the States these days, it’s usually for work.” Jared grinned. “I expect the pattern will change when the grandbaby arrives, but so far my folks have come across the pond whenever they wanted to visit. Last summer they spent a month with me, then went to Prague. Mom bought crystal. Dad swore it’d be the last time he’d make that mistake. Said it cost twice as much to get it all home.”

  Fionola laughed. “No surprise. I imagine Connie was like a kid in a candy store. Chase and I found the two chandeliers in the great room there.”

  The talk went on. Finally circled back to horses and the Classic.

  “From what Tyndal says,” Fionola said, “the barns are already nearing capacity and we’ll be pressed for space again. We may need a vet on site earlier than usual. Will you have enough help?” She looked at Seth.

  “I think so. I’ll pick out a few of my kids and give them extra credit for working the Classic. They’ll earn it.”

  “Seth is talking about his students,” Fionola explained to Jared.

  “I wondered.” His smile was quick. “You got the school? I remember you started lobbying for it before I left.”

  “I did. You can’t see it from the road, so you likely missed it when you came through town, but the university finally added a College of Veterinary Medicine.” Seth beamed. “They still let me teach a few courses, and some of the grad students volunteer to work with my staff. If you don’t meet one or two of them hanging around at the barns during off-hours here, you will during the Classic. They say it’s for the horses, but I think it’s because this one”—he patted Fee’s hand—“makes sure the cook supplies them with whatever they want to eat. But one thing, the next time your neighbor calls, somebody else will take the visit. Fee, I swear, this time that blasted gelding…”

  Jared tuned out the story, and thought of Tyndal, of the game she’d started. Maybe she’d won the first round. He could give credit where credit was due. But having her going hungry wasn’t part of the plan.

  While Fee walked Seth to the door after the meal, Jared detoured to the kitchen. The cook was a willing soul with the familiar plaque, ‘Never Trust a Skinny Cook,’ on the wall beside the stove. She wasn’t skinny. And yes, she’d be tickled to prepare a late supper for Tyndal. It’d be wrapped and waiting on the sideboard whenever he was ready. He figured a couple hours would do the trick.

  Fionola caught him as he headed toward his suite. “Jared, would you join me?” She stood in the doorway to what he remembered as Chase’s study.

  “Love to.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Shall I light a fire?” Wood was already stacked in the hearth.

  “Please,” she said. “Tea? It’s Earl Grey. I had the staff brew another pot and bring in a few cookies. I remember you loved chocolate chip and peanut butter.”

  “Woman after my own heart. I see you’ve made some changes in here.” Jared turned a slow circle, thinking of the hours he’d spent with Chase. “Good ones. You’d have been swallowed behind his big desk. This looks more like you.” He touched the elegant Queen Anne that sat beside the windows, took in the rest of the space. “Nice. I’m glad you kept that though.” Jared admired the oil painting of Raj that hung above the mantel.

  “I wouldn’t part with it.” Fionola moved to stand beside Jared. “He’s so proud. This was done the year he finished his championship.” She touched the painting’s frame, sipped her tea. “He’s still a rascal, but has mellowed some. And you’re wondering why I asked you here. Have a seat, my dear.” She took one of the wingback chairs that faced the fireplace.

  “Jared, I realize you don’t need to ride. Competitively, I mean. You ride because you love it. Tyndal rides because her reputation demands it. But her heart is in working with the horses. Chase and I once had a dream about this place and lot has come true. However, one aspect is weak, a weakness you could change.”

  He studied Fionola’s face, the wisdom shining in her eyes, the fine lines that traced across her temples. She’d always talked to him like a mother. Some things would never change. He listened as she outlined what she wanted him to consider, heard her words, the snap and hiss of the logs, the soft tick of the grandfather clock. Was this what coming home felt like? The easy welcome, the warmth. The challenge. He wasn’t sure. He might have teased her about that before dinner, but she was serious.

  Regardless, he had no doubt Fionola Morgan knew how to word an appealing proposal.

  “Fee, you know me too well.” He stood, paced across the floor. “You also know I don’t have an answer right now. But I will.” He moved to her side and leaned down to brush a kiss across her forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good night, dearest.”

  Walking up to his suite, he thought of the possibilities. Tyndal would continue working with the horses. He’d work with the riders. It was no secret more competitions were lost by inept riders than clumsy horses. Fee offered him a chance to make a place for himself at Morgan’s Walk. To build something. And find something. He poured a glass of cabernet from the wine selection in his suite and wished he’d kept the cookies. Next time, he promised.

  Grabbing his jacket, he stepped out onto his balcony. The night wasn’t warm or soft. Too early in the spring for warmth, too late for snow. Only the long cry of a coyote floating across the prairie interrupted its stillness. A night of whispers and memories, he supposed.

  Son, you’ve always made me proud. And just like that beast of yours down there in the barn, you have a good heart. But you keep it shoved down someplace deep inside. Son, a heart needs to be used and strengthened. You think about that for a while. Home is home because of the love it holds, otherwise it’s just real estate.

  Chase? Another snatch of a long-ago conversation? Earlier he’d imagined feeling his presence in the barn as Tyndal’s colt was being born. But now? The man could have been standing at his side, the voice was that close.

  Jared shrugged. No, he didn’t often think of his heart. And it was shoved down deep. Intentionally. He sipped at his wine. Likely in the hours he’d been at Morgan’s Walk he’d thought more about his heart, about the meaning of home and the direction of his life than he had in how long? Fionola talked of the possibilities. But what about repercussions? Every decision had some of both.

  He settled in one of the lounge chairs on his balcony, noticed the lights flicker on at Tyndal’s cottage. Fee told him she’d chosen one of the small staff houses close to the barns. Doubtless, mare and foal were both tucked in for the night. To know Tyndal was to know how she felt about her horses. He also had a fair idea of how she felt about him. Oh yeah, he grinned, there’d be repercussions.

  Within moments, the lights flickered off.

  Save for a single porch light, the house went quiet, and that was his cue. Time to start working on his promise.

  He banged on her front door loud enough to be heard in the next county and woke Jake. He heard the big feet hit the floor, pound down the stairs, heard the rumbling growl on the other side of the door. Within seconds, he heard Tyndal shoo him back. And fling open the door.

  “What in heaven’s name is wrong with you? Do you have any idea what time it is?”

  She was wrapped chin to toe in a large, sleeves-rolled-up, tied at the waist, fuzzy yellow robe. The thing revealed nothing but toes. Who knew toenails painted that creamy salmon, all female and soft, could be so sexy? Or that her hair, that dark, tumbled mass of curls and shine… He took a slow breath. It made him want to lose himself in its thickness. She made him need.

  The woman was still talking when his brain kicked on. Likely the toes caused it to check out.

  “Nice to see you too. Back off.” He didn’t wait for her invitation; he walked in and saw at a glance what Fionola meant. Tyndal had made a home. Jake did take up most of the sofa. Thankfully, the big dog decided to ignore them both in favor of sleep.

  Jared didn’t linger, but pushed straight through to her kitchen, smiling at the two fan-shaped wicker chairs she’d placed next to some
sort of a green Formica table. Most people would have stashed such monstrosities on the back deck—or in the trash.

  A picture of the modern, sleek apartment he kept just outside of London popped into his mind. He’d paid an interior decorator a small fortune to do something with the place, yet this crazy mix of Tyndal’s felt more alive. Nothing matched, not her pottery, not even the handles on the cabinets. But they didn’t need to. The place reflected its occupant perfectly. He set the tray he’d brought on the table, turned to her.

  “Shut-up and listen. That’s dinner. Eat if you want. Don’t, if you want to be stubborn about it. And yes, I’ll be happy to leave you alone right after we clear up some confusion.”

  She shrugged, her eyes insolent as her posture. “Who said anything about being confused?”

  “I believe you did. I wanted to make sure you were clear about how things are.” He shifted to block her escape and before she could start talking, whipped her hard up against him, his lips moving over hers.

  He felt her stiffen, felt her hands ball into fists. Was pleased to find her blood could sizzle hot as her temper. At least she wasn’t dousing him with more of that ice-water attitude. The girl she’d been had the same talent, regal as an ice queen one minute, all temper and snarls the next. He’d loved them both. Maybe that was what brought him back to Morgan’s Walk. Maybe he was the one who’d never be whole without Tyndal Morgan in his life—or in his arms.

  When he felt her yield, when all that fire quieted and her arms tightened around his neck, he figured she’d heard what he wanted her to know. Not that it would do any good. Since subtle never worked with the kid, he doubted an obvious message would be a clue to the woman. But a man could hope.

  “There now. If we’re to work together, I wanted to have that out of my system.” He put both hands on her shoulders, gently steadying her—and himself. Her eyes were huge, a churning, turbulent gray sea. He didn’t feel much calmer himself. “But,” he said softly, his finger tracing her lips where his mouth had been, “I have been known on occasion to make a mistake. We’ll see if I just made another.”

  He kissed her on the tip of her nose then turned on his heel, stopping by the sofa to give Jake a pat, and walked out.

  ****

  The jaunty little tune he whistled hit her brain like a hammer.

  Work together? Had hell frozen over and she hadn’t noticed? Tyndal slammed her fists onto her hips, looking around for something to throw.

  She saw the dinner he’d brought and grabbed it, wishing she’d thought to pitch it at his head. Then thought better of it when she caught a whiff of what was inside. Fionola’s chef knew her weaknesses. Sometimes exploited them. The bolognaise sauce, rich with tomato, basil, and garlic wasn’t to be wasted on Jared Grant.

  “Jake!” With the big dog hard on her heels, she carried the tray up to her bed, sank in, and between sharing bites with a dog that liked pasta just as much as she, finished everything.

  Before she dozed off, her last thought was of a man with golden hair and laughing, cobalt eyes. Could it be that simple? A little girl once fell in love with a boy. But it was the man who smiled at her with the same gentle, teasing smile. The boy had talked with her, laughed with her, had held her hand and she’d felt so safe. Perhaps the man wasn’t as safe. Tyndal rubbed a finger across her mouth and decided ‘perhaps’ wasn’t the right word. Because the man definitely wasn’t safe. But then again, she wasn’t a little girl either. She eased into sleep, a smile on her face.

  Too bad he’d die young.

  ****

  As things turned out, she needn’t have worried. Between meetings with Fionola and her staff, getting on-the-ground familiar with the extent of what she was building at the farm, and having to make a trip to Timberline to meet his newborn nephew, Jared managed to corner her for only a few hurried conversations. It was clear the guy wanted more, but Tyndal believed fate was on her side.

  “Catch you later, Jared,” had become her personal favorite phrase. The timing wasn’t any better for him, when within hours of his return from Timberline, Fionola told her to ask him come to her office.

  “Catch you later, Jared. Fee wants to see you ASAP, and I’m off for Jackson.”

  “Wyoming? Why? What happened?”

  “The rider took a spill off my horse and I don’t want somebody I’m not familiar with going up on him. The show manager said they could provide a back-up, but I told them not to bother. So I’m going. And, Jared”—Tyndal tapped her watch—“Fee’s waiting. She doesn’t like to do that.”

  She thought she heard him mutter something about “her not being the only one.”

  Delighted, Tyndal almost skipped up her stairs to haul out her overnight bag. She was singing along with the radio when her phone rang.

  “You, sweet girl, are staying here. Jared is going to Wyoming.” Fionola hung up the same instant Tyndal felt her delight turn to disgust. Fee was sending the guy…in her place?

  When Mars met with Venus, or whatever the stupid saying was supposed to be. Or when ice-cream was sold on the streets of hell. Or when she lost the ability to think and make decisions for herself. Tyndal called her grandmother back.

  “No way.” Then she hung up.

  It was Jared, of course it was, who knocked on her door.

  “Way, sweetheart. Change of plans. I’m going. You’re not. What do I need to know about your colt?”

  “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I’ll handle this myself.”

  When she started to storm past, Jared grabbed her by the shoulders, held her still. “I took Fee up on her offer, whether you like it or not. You train. I ride. That’s the arrangement. So, you get to deal with it. One way or another.”

  “I’ll pass, thank you very much.”

  “Not this time, you won’t.” He turned around and slammed the door on his way out.

  Tyndal stood in the middle of her living room floor, vibrating. She couldn’t remember being as red-in-the-face mad. The guy always turned things around. He made her feel things she didn’t want to feel. Want things. And there was this little voice deep down inside that was so ridiculously glad he was staying—it was ridiculous. She jerked the door open and marched down the stairs she’d basically floated up moments before.

  She met him as he was loading his truck.

  “Leaving so soon?”

  “I know it breaks your heart.” He tossed his bags onto the seat. “Tyndal, you may want to have a conversation with your grandmother before long. I mean that. Now, I’ll ask you again. Anything I should know about the colt?”

  “He’s got a really light mouth. He tends to take corners too fast. Why do I need to talk with Fee?”

  “You just do. Trust me.” Jared looked at his watch, then back at her. She could see the guy was laughing.

  “What now? Did you forget something?”

  “No. I just thought since it’s such a long drive to Jackson Hole and that I’ll need to get acquainted with the colt yet tonight, I might need something to keep me awake.” He reached for Tyndal. “I’ll bear in mind what you said about your horse. You keep this in mind.” As he had before, he brought her up hard against his chest and molded her even closer as his busy mouth seared a kiss on hers that might as well have been a brand.

  She slapped her hands against his chest and pulled back. “Do you have to do that?”

  “No. But I can’t think of a good reason not to.”

  “Then I’ll give you one,” she snapped. “I don’t like you.”

  Jared’s eyes danced. “Now that’s a conversation I’d enjoy. Somehow, I thought I’d heard differently. Maybe I’m just curious, but what part don’t you like? When I touch you like this?” He put his hands on her face, lightly stroking her cheek, brushing his hands over her hair. “Or this?” With his thumb, he touched her lips, traced the shape of her mouth. The smile never left his eyes.

  She shoved out of his arms. “Quit. Just go. Get in the truck and go. When you come home, we’ll have this, wh
atever this is, settled. And believe me, I will talk to Fionola.”

  “Okay, but that doesn’t mean you’re getting rid of me so easily.” He climbed into the driver’s seat and rolled down his window. “And, Tyndal? Everything will work out fine, I promise.” He put the truck in gear.

  “No! Stop. Wait!” Instantly alert, Tyndal spun around. “Just hold on. What did you say?” How could he know those exact words haunted her? “Jared, were you in my house the other night?”

  “If I had been, do you think you’d need to ask?”

  “Oh, go away.”

  His answer wasn’t what she wanted. Since he’d come back, the man seemed to be everywhere—in her face, in her space, even in her dreams. One dream in particular, seemed a little too real. There was something so different about it. Could it have happened? What if it had?

  She’d dreamed about him, dreaming his lips were as close as breath. But the words he’d whispered? The part of her heart that still belonged to him longed to hear such words. To believe that promise.

  “Tyndal, I’ve come home. I’m back. I won’t leave you again. Ever again. This is just the beginning, love. We have much to talk about, you and I. Sleep. Sleep well, my heart, and rest.”

  “—Everything will work out fine, I promise.” Same voice, same words, same as the dream. She could have sworn his hands feathered across her hair even as his mouth moved over hers, almost touching, almost, but not quite. Something in her wanted to listen to that never forgotten, but ever welcome, voice. Wanted to feel him close. Wanted him. And in that dream, when he pulled away her heart felt so lost, so empty, it ached. Even as she reached for him, for his hands, they and the voice were gone. Like he was gone in a cloud of dust as he headed down the dirt road toward the highway. Maybe she’d been just a girl, but she’d watched him drive away once before. But this time, before he made the last turn out of sight, he stuck his arm out the window and waved.

  She didn’t wave back.

  Maybe it took her a while to see the merit of Fionola’s plan—or be willing to admit some of it actually made sense. She could allow that, personally, she would rather train. Fee was dead on accurate when she accused her of liking horses better than she liked most people. And maybe nobody could ride like Jared. But working with him? As partners?