Lois Greiman - [Hope Springs 02]

by Home Fires

  Ty watched the taillights fade into the distance. He blinked, exhaled. “Holy—” he began, but in that second Sophie kissed him.

  The air left his lungs. His hands steadied on the steering wheel. And his heart … his heart might have stopped entirely.

  She smelled like courage and fear, like hope and despair and the kind of beauty that lasts forever. By the time she drew away, his head felt light.

  “I’m …” He had no idea what he should say. Not an inkling what he should do. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  She blinked at him, then drew slowly back. Her hands, he noticed, weren’t shaking. Her voice was perfectly level.

  “We’d better get home,” she said.

  CHAPTER 19

  “Where could she be?” Casie’s face was taut with worry, her eyes wide and wild with it. Colt watched her pace the length of the kitchen. They’d made a quick circuit around the countryside. For a while they had hoped to catch Sophie. After all, Puke was hardly ready for NASCAR, but the cloud of dust they were following turned out to be made by Greg Ruff in his International Harvester. The soybean harvest was gearing up.

  “I told you everything I know,” Emily said. She’d given up washing dishes and was now focusing all of her considerable attention on Casie’s frantic face.

  “She was watching television, right?” Casie prompted.

  “Yeah.”

  “The news.”

  “Case, I told you everything I—” she began, but in that instant Colt came up with an idea.

  “What station?” he asked.

  They turned toward him in unison, two women strong enough to scare the bejeezus out of him.

  “What?”

  “What station?” he asked again. “Maybe I can call them. Get more information.”

  Hope sprang into Casie’s eyes, and for a moment, just a second in time, it took his breath away.

  “The guy with the face caterpillar,” Emily said.

  Colt turned to her. He usually tracked her crazy thoughts pretty well, but this time … “Face …”

  “The unibrow. You know,” she said. “The weather guy with the Cro-Magnon—” She stopped herself. “Three. I think it was channel three.”

  Colt jerked a nod and pulled his cell phone from his pocket. Casie’s eyes followed his hand as he jabbed in 411.

  “What time was it exactly?” he asked as the phone rang.

  “I don’t know exactly,” Em said.

  “Well, guess!” Casie said. “Just—”

  “Hey,” Colt said, jumping in. “Let’s just calm down a little.” In some distant portion of his mind, he wondered how many times he had said approximately the same thing in this very house.

  “Calm down?” Casie turned on him like a cornered cougar, reminding him that saying those particular words had rarely done so much as a sliver of good. “Sophie’s gone! She’s gone! That could be even worse than concussed. I mean, at least when she was kicked in the head, we knew where she was. We knew—”

  He held up a hand to stop her tirade when someone answered the phone.

  “City and state, please.”

  He covered the mouthpiece and swore in silence. “What city is channel three out of?”

  “I don’t know,” Em said.

  “Sioux Falls?” Casie suggested.

  Colt gritted his teeth. “Sioux Falls, South Dakota?”

  “What listing can I find for you in Sioux Falls?” The operator’s voice sounded ultimately reasonable.

  “Channel three news.”

  “Checking Sioux Falls for channel three …” She paused. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t see any listing for channel three in—” she began, but suddenly there was a disturbance in the yard.

  Casie spun toward the door. By the time Colt reached her side, Puke’s lone headlight was sweeping across the yard.

  Colt slipped the phone into his pocket just as Casie sprinted outside.

  “Sophie!” Her voice was little more than a hiss as she galloped down the stairs and raced across the yard. The girl was out of the truck almost before it pulled to a halt. “Where have you been?”

  Sophie stopped in her tracks and spun toward them as if surprised they were there.

  “And what—” Casie’s words sputtered to a halt as Ty stepped out from behind the steering wheel. “Ty?”

  He nodded, his face shadowed in the yard light.

  She stared at him, glanced at Sophie, turned to Colt. He shrugged. God knew he rarely had an inkling what was going on here.

  “Where were you?” she asked. Her tone was breathless. “We were worried—”

  It was then that something exploded inside the trailer. They jerked toward it in unison. It took a second to recognize the sound of anxious pawing.

  Casie’s face looked pale in the dim overhead light. “What’s in the trailer?” Her voice sounded extremely reasonable.

  Behind him, the screen door slammed again as Emily exited the house at a slower rate.

  Ty cleared his throat. Sophie stiffened.

  “Soph?” Casie said, tone absolutely steady now, low, soft, maybe a little eerie. “Talk to me.”

  The girl raised her chin in that cowboy up way of hers. “I had to do something,” she said.

  Casie turned her head toward the trailer a little. It was impossible to be sure, but it almost seemed as if she was holding her breath. “Something?”

  “It’s wrong!” Sophie said, emotion spewing up suddenly. “You know it’s wrong. Those mares—”

  Casie held up a hand. To Colt’s never-ending surprise, the motion stopped Sophie dead in her verbal tracks. “What mares?”

  No one spoke.

  “Is this about the news clip Sam told us about?” Casie asked.

  “This is about abuse!” Sophie raged. “This is about neglect and stupidity and—”

  Casie held up her hand again. Again the verbal barrage stopped.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “It ain’t her fault,” Ty said.

  They turned toward the boy in surprise. In the six months since he’d been hanging around the Lazy, Colt had never known him to interrupt the woman he idolized.

  Ty winced, shuffled his feet, and looked like he would rather die than disappoint her.

  “I mean … them horses was being mistreated.”

  Casie stared at him a second before turning toward Sophie with a grimace of apprehension. “Please tell me there’s not a horse in that trailer,” she said. When no one spoke, she turned like a marionette and goose-stepped past Puke. Curling her fingers through the open slats near the top, she pulled herself onto the fender and peered inside. The banging stopped for a moment. She stepped back down. “There’s a horse in the trailer.” She said the words numbly and turned to Colt like one in a trance.

  He shrugged, cleared his throat, and tried a tentative grin. “Maybe they bought it.”

  It was a ludicrous suggestion. No one knew that better than he, but Casie was nothing if not hopeful and turned toward the kids with breathless optimism.

  “Did you buy it?” she asked. No one spoke. “Please tell me you bought it.”

  Sophie pursed her lips. “They don’t give them enough water,” she said. The night fell silent for several beats before she spoke again. “Kidney failure is common among PMU horses even if—”

  “Holy Hannah,” Casie murmured.

  It was then that Linette appeared. She looked like nothing so much as a small, wizened gnome in the darkness. “What’s going on?”

  “Oh!” Casie jumped as if shot. “Linette. I thought you were …” She skimmed her eyes to the kids. Emily took a step forward, braving the insanity with chipper ease. “Sophie just bought a new horse.”

  Linette’s brows jumped up as she turned toward Casie. “Really?”

  Casie blinked. Emily gave her a pointed stare. “Yes,” she managed finally. “A …” Maybe she was in shock. Maybe she was just searching frantically for some kind of lie that wouldn’t get them all arre
sted. “She just picked her up.”

  “Huh! I didn’t even know she had her driver’s license.”

  The yard went silent. Casie shot her gaze to Colt. It was frantic and hopeful and needy. And damned if he could think of anything to do but jump in, too.

  “Friends,” he said and took a step forward, though he hadn’t a clue why he wanted to be closer to this fiasco. “Friends of mine. They’ve had this colt for sale for a while now.”

  “Mare,” Sophie corrected.

  “Mare,” Colt mimicked and added a decisive nod.

  Casie followed the conversation as if it were a tennis match.

  “At eight o’clock at night?” Linette asked, and pacing toward the trailer, peered inside. “Wow, she looks kind of potbellied, doesn’t she?”

  Casie closed her eyes.

  “She’s pregnant,” Sophie said.

  Some sort of noise escaped Casie’s lips. It might have been a moan. Might have been a hiss. Colt was just glad she stayed on her feet. In fact, he stepped up next to her as a kind of last-ditch support system should her knees fail. As for Linette, she snapped her gaze to the two of them. Casie forced a smile. It looked ghoulish in the darkness.

  “You okay?” the older woman asked.

  “Me? Sure,” Casie said. “I just don’t know …” She shrugged. “Pregnant mares can be difficult to … Well … I suppose we’d better get her out of there.”

  Sophie stared at her for a full four seconds, then nodded once and marched to the back of the trailer. The door groaned as she swung it open. The mare came out like a bullet, dragging the girl with her. She hit the ground hard with her front hooves then her knees before struggling up and circling wildly at the end of what looked like a leather lead.

  Linette backed off. The woman was no idiot, Colt thought.

  “Where should I put her?” Sophie asked. Despite the fact that the mare was still circling nervously, her tone was snooty and terse. For Sophie it was pretty subdued.

  “She can use one of the new stalls.”

  “She doesn’t really like to be …” The mare spooked, throwing her head up and springing off her feet, legs braced against the world. “Confined,” she finished.

  Casie looked as if she’d like to die … or kill.

  Sophie tightened her grip on the lead and laid one hand against the mare’s long, scrawny neck. “She’s been locked up for so long.”

  “It’s the best we’ve got for tonight.”

  Sophie almost argued. Even in the darkness, Colt could see the mutiny in her eyes, but finally she nodded and led the mare toward the barn. Ty hurried ahead and snapped on the switch beside the door. The others followed more slowly.

  Inside the cluttered building, the mare danced on the end of the leather line, swinging her rear end this way and that to take in the sights.

  That’s when Angel thrust her head over her Dutch door and nickered at her. The mare jolted to a halt and trumpeted back, legs spread.

  It took a few minutes for Sophie to coax the chestnut toward the newly finished stall, but finally she was inside. She circled the enclosure, stopping only to sniff Angel’s nose through the open planking, squeal, and circle again.

  “She looks kind of skittish,” Linette said. Her tone was dubious. “Is that why they sold her?”

  No one spoke for a moment. Ty jumped in, his usually slow voice atypically quick.

  “They’re moving,” he said. “Had to get rid of the horses.”

  “So she was their only one?” Linette asked. Her tone was innocent, but her expression looked kind of foxy.

  Ty and Sophie shared a quick glance. “No,” she said. “They had …” She swung her gaze back to the mare, but not before Colt saw the brightness of her eyes. “There are more.” Her voice was very soft, barely recognizable. “Lots more.”

  “All pregnant?” Emily asked. One hand was holding her belly.

  Sophie nodded.

  Emily turned toward her, eyes gleaming in the uncertain lighting. “You’re a royal pain in the ass, Soph. But if I wasn’t such a godawful heterosexual I’d kiss you square on the lips,” she said, and wiping her nose with the back of her hand, turned toward the house.

  Everyone watched her go for a second.

  “Well …” Linette said. Her eyes were just as bright as the girls’, but it might have been curiosity that made them sparkle. “I guess I’ll get to bed, too.”

  In a moment only two adults and two teenagers were left in the barn.

  Casie shook her head. “How could you—”

  “It was my idea!” Ty’s voice was quick and anxious.

  “Ty—” Sophie said, but he interrupted her.

  “They had all them mares. And I couldn’t help thinking what if Angel was in one of them tight little stalls. What if it was her? I had to get this one out of there. Sophie didn’t think we should, but—”

  “Ty—” Sophie said again. Her expression looked tortured. They stared at each other from inches apart.

  “Don’t lie to—” Casie began, but Colt touched her back with a careful hand. The kids weren’t beating the crap out of each other; it hardly seemed the time to bring up a little thing like dishonesty.

  “Not tonight.” He said the words very softly, but she heard him.

  Taking a deep breath, she nodded once. “Will you take Ty home?” she asked, not turning toward Colt, but keeping her gaze level on the boy’s ruddy complexion.

  “Safe and sound,” he promised.

  She nodded again. “You,” she said, staring at Sophie. “You’re okay?”

  “Yeah.” She nodded jerkily. “Of course.”

  “No one saw you?”

  She pursed her lips.

  “Sophie …”

  “No,” she said. “No one saw me.”

  Casie scowled and opened her mouth again, but Colt touched her back and spoke again. “Let it go, Case.”

  She exhaled carefully. “Just …” She shook her head, looking exhausted and relieved all at once. “Just get some sleep, will you?”

  The three of them left the girl alone outside the stall. From the yard, they could hear the mare whinny again, loud and frantic.

  Casie’s shoulders slumped as they neared Colt’s pickup truck.

  “I’m sorry.” Ty’s voice was extremely quiet.

  She turned back toward him, eyes soft in the darkness. “I didn’t think you even liked her,” she said.

  “Soph?” His face looked pale. “I don’t!” The words came out of his mouth fast enough to make Colt chuckle. Casie just raised her brows and headed dismally toward the house.

  Colt tried to control his grin. “Don’t worry about it, kid,” he said, glancing over the hood of his pickup toward Casie’s retreating form. “I used to give Case some trouble, too, and she adores me.”

  He wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard her snort as she opened the door.

  CHAPTER 20

  Sophie was standing outside the arena behind the barn when Colt stepped out of his truck the next morning. Her back was to him, her corn-silk hair long and shiny in the slanting sunlight.

  Inside the enclosure, the new mare was galloping wild circles about the pen. The hair was rubbed off the base of her tail, but she had it flung over her back as she ran. It curved over her spine as she broke into a high-stepping trot, neck arched, nostrils flaring.

  “Hey,” Colt said, settling his forearms against the top plank and shoving his right boot onto the lowest rung. “I see she’s settled down.”

  Sophie refused to comment on his sarcasm. Instead, they watched the mare make another mad dash around the pen. Her withers were sharp and bumpy from lack of calories. A dozen oozing wounds and raw lacerations marred her scruffy coat. Throwing her head up, she trumpeted, then spooked at a random sound, bouncing from her feet, eyes rimmed with white as she darted in the opposite direction.

  “Do you think she’s crazy?” Sophie asked.

  “I suspect we’d all be a little nuts if we’d been tied
up for nine months at a time.”

  “Some of you are crazy anyway,” she said.

  He leaned away from her, brows raised. “Did you just make a joke?” he asked, but her jovial mood was already darkening.

  “I don’t even know when she’s due,” she said.

  “Well, I think that’s the least of your worries,” he said.

  She turned toward him. “What could be worse than …” she began, but just then the girl noticed Casie approaching from behind, strides purposeful, brows lowered.

  Sophie winced. Colt couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. When had sweet Casie Carmichael become the kind of woman who made a take-no-prisoners girl like Sophie Jaegar wince?

  But when she arrived her eyes were only for the horse. Granted, the mare was the kind of animal that would always make people stop and stare. Oh, she looked rough, rubbed raw, worn thin, but she had what could only be called presence … that look-at-me something that made every head turn, made every eye misty. All three were silent as they watched the chestnut circle the arena at a snappy trot.

  “She moves like a dancer.” Casie’s voice was very soft, almost reverent. The mare turned her head with haughty disdain, gliding along, potbelly distended, every rib showing. “Even with that scraggly mane and popped knee.”

  Colt shifted his gaze to the mare’s left foreleg. Now that she mentioned it, the injured carpal joint was easy to identify.

  “They’re kept in narrow stalls twenty-four seven, so she pawed,” Sophie said in explanation of the knee problem. Apparently, she had already noticed it. But then if Colt had spent the entire night in the mare’s stall, maybe he would have, too. “Probably incessantly.” They were all silent for another moment. “The others are mostly drafts, a lot calmer.” She cleared her throat. Her eyes, Colt noticed even in profile, looked red and raw. It must have been a hell of a night for everyone. Even through his parents’ well-insulated walls, he had heard Ty toss around like a thrashing crew until two in the morning. “Maybe they’ve given up … but Freedom …” Her voice broke.

  Casie clenched her jaw, but refrained from turning toward the girl. “You named her?”

  “Windflower’s Freedom.”

  “Soph …” Casie’s voice was soft with regret. She tilted her head toward the girl, expression worried. “We have to take her back.”