by Jillian Hart
“Take the next exit, would you?” Pierce gestured toward a freeway sign coming up on them pretty fast. “It’s about chow time and I’m starving.”
“Sure thing.” Still troubled, Hawk tapped the turn signal and changed lanes just as the first drops of rain fell.
“I know you’re getting antsy, handsome. You’ve been without a long ride for way too long.” September gave the cinch a good tug and laid her casted hand against Comanche’s stomach. “You aren’t holding your breath, are you?”
Caught in the act, the palomino exhaled sheepishly.
“Every time,” she told him. “That’s how I know. You might as well not even try.”
He shook his head, as if he had an opinion on that. He was the best horse in the entire world—okay, she was biased—but he tended to have a mind of his own. She buckled up, and they were ready to go.
“C’mon, boy.” She caught his reins and led him down the aisle. “We can’t take the trails up the mountain until they are all inspected. You don’t mind, do you?”
Comanche lipped her ponytail, just glad to be with her. She knew, because that’s how she felt. Grateful to be spending time with her best bud. Her riding boots gave a satisfying knell alongside her gelding’s steeled shoes as they followed the cement pathway past the riding arena.
“I didn’t know you were cleared to ride.” Colleen, her boss, appeared in the office doorway. “Did your doctor give you clearance?”
“Not only that, but I can come back to work whenever, if you’ll have me.” She dug in her jacket pocket and handed over the doctor’s memo. “I’m not sure how useful I’ll be in the barns, but I can do my lessons.”
“Excellent. I’ll put you in the office on Monday instead of cleaning stalls until that’s healed.” Colleen studied the paper and folded it in precise half. “I heard from Mrs. Toppins. She says Crystal is home and recovering nicely. The girl is already begging to resume her lessons.”
“Sounds like Crystal.” She had a definite soft spot for her favorite student. “I meant to call her mom today. I’m glad she isn’t afraid to ride. A lot of kids wouldn’t want to get back on a horse after an experience like that.”
“She’s got grit,” Colleen agreed. “Speaking of which, I’m glad to see you here, too. I was worried.”
“About me? Don’t be. I’ve had my share of falls and I’ve gotten back up every time.” The horse tugged on her ponytail again, and she stroked Comanche’s nose. “About working in the office. You have to know I won’t have the best typing speed with this cast.”
“Speed isn’t everything. I hear the phone ringing. Have a good ride.”
“Thanks, Colleen.” As her boss hurried into the office to catch the call, September led her horse the rest of the way to the trailhead. The way north—to the mountain—was barricaded, but there were others to choose from. She grabbed the saddle horn, slid her toe into the stirrup and lifted herself into the saddle. The gelding stood patiently, ears pricked and scenting the wind. Yep, he was glad to be headed out, too.
She reined Comanche to the right, choosing the meadow path that looped around the grounds. The cold wind ruffled his platinum mane, and the gathering gray clouds above suggested the weathermen would soon be right. Green grass spread like emeralds for a mile, broken only by the white board fencing where horses grazed and riders practiced their pace changes. Voices from the covered arena carried faintly. Grade-school-aged girls sat astride their mounts in the beginners’ class in the far paddock, and their excitement reminded her of being a little girl on a much younger Comanche, living her dream.
She’d always felt that God had led her here. Years had slipped by, time passed by well spent with friends and riding and working hard for competitions. He had known her heart and brought her to this wonderful place where she had always been happy. Even in her darkest times after she lost her beloved Tim, this place was the best refuge to her hurting soul.
Comanche nickered at a nearby buddy, who looked up from grazing and whinnied back. They continued on at a leisurely walk. Good to be in the saddle again. She breathed in fresh country air. Robins and sparrows soared and chattered, hurrying to get their work done before the rain. Mount Rainier’s beautiful glaciered peak was lost in a crown of clouds. Hawk. She wondered how he was doing, if he had reached the mountain whose glacier he intended to scale or if he was still on the road.
Her thoughts kept circling back to him. He’d been a true helper fixing the leak, and her foyer hadn’t been so bright in a while. As for his kisses—
You don’t have to think about them, she reminded herself as rain pinged off her hat. She lifted her face and let the droplets bathe her. Nice and relaxing after an unsettled day. Tension eased, as if washed away by the rain, and she realized how worked up she’d been over Hawk. And why? She drew in a cleansing breath. After the benefit ride, it wasn’t as if she were going to see him again. Likely as not he would be deployed by the new year and she would have worried for nothing.
Comanche extended his neck, asking for more rein, commanding her attention. He wanted to run. Well, she was up for it. She signaled him with her knees and leaned into his gait change. He dug in with all fours, from a smooth trot to a rolling cantor. She felt stronger, as she always did, racing the wind with her best bud. Everything came clear. Hawk’s kisses were nothing she needed to worry about. As lovely as they were, he wasn’t dating her. He had to know love was the last thing she would ever risk again.
The ground raced by in a blur as Comanche broke into a fast gallop, and she left her troubles behind.
Talk about cold. Hawk drove the stake into the ground and checked the anchor rope’s tension. It ought to hold in all but the highest winds. They had driven as far as they could and had barely enough daylight left to set up camp. They would ski in to the climb come morning. For now, dark had fallen and the rain had turned to snow.
“Got the fire going.” Pierce came around the corner of the tent. “Want me to break out the hot dogs or the Spam?”
“Hot dogs.” He hiked through the accumulating snow and dropped the hammer with the rest of the gear. “Any chance you got some water hot yet?”
“You’re gettin’ soft.” Pierce shook his head. “You should have bailed out of the Rangers when you got the chance. Don’t know how you are gonna make it two more years.”
“Hey, I’m not about to be an old married man.” Not that he blamed Pierce one bit. Married life sounded just fine with him. Which was odd. He liked being a lone wolf. Thinking about it made him think of September, and that couldn’t be a good sign, so he grabbed his collapsible cup and a tea bag and hunkered down on a rock to check on the heating water.
“Tell me more about what happened after you carried her out of the mine shaft.” Pierce broke open a package of beef franks and impaled a couple of them on a skewer before handing it over.
“There’s nothing to tell. I checked on her at the hospital. I dropped by to help her out. Figured Tim would have wanted me to make sure she was okay.” He took the skewer and held it over the lively flame.
“So you did it for Tim?” Pierce nodded with understanding. “I was always deployed, never got to know September very well, but I recall she was pretty and kind. Tim was crazy about her.”
“I know.” Guilt with pinpoint accuracy. A top sniper didn’t have better aim. “Being crazy about her would be easy to do.”
“Ah, I thought so.” Pierce angled his meal over the cracking fire pit. “Tim would have expected her to go on with her life and find someone again. He would want a guy to take good care of her and treat her well. If you want my opinion, I think he would be glad if that man was you. Just something to think about.”
Snow tapped on his parka and sizzled on the ring of rocks, and he gave his skewer a turn, watching the skins blacken as the meat cooked. Pierce thought he was helping, but it hadn’t removed the bullet of guilt lodged in his chest.
“Catch.” Pierce tossed a hot dog bun over the fire and smoke.
<
br /> Hawk caught it in one hand, caught a second one and pulled the skewer from the heat. Dinner was served.
The afternoon’s light rain had turned into what sounded like a monsoon by the time September finished wiping down her kitchen counters. There. The chores were done for the evening. Satisfied, she hit the start button and the dishwasher chugged to life. The marble gleamed, the cabinets shone, the appliances sparkled in the white twinkle lights she had strung around the top edge of the upper cabinets.
The phone rang. Chessie, checking up on her. She didn’t have to look at caller ID as she grabbed the cordless and turned off the overhead lights. She left behind the soft glow of the twinkle lights and headed to the living room. The gas fireplace was going, chasing the winter’s chill from the room. “No, I don’t have my feet up, but as soon as the phone rang I headed for the couch.”
“How did you know it was me calling?”
“My big-sister radar beeped.” She stretched out on the couch and grabbed the remote. “And no, I didn’t overdo it at the stables. I needed to get in some saddle time before next week’s event.”
“Excuses. As if you need more time on the back of a horse.” Beneath Chessie’s tough-girl facade ran true caring. “You sound better. More like yourself.”
“It takes more than a fall into a big hole in the earth to keep me down,” she quipped, hit the mute button and began to channel-surf.
“You know I wasn’t talking about that. You haven’t sounded this chipper since…” She paused, as if she didn’t want to cause any pain by bringing up Tim’s name.
“I had a good day.” That was the simplest explanation. She didn’t know why she felt better—she certainly didn’t want to pin that on one man. She was not that needy or fragile; she was the kind of woman who stood on her own two feet. “How did your day at work go?”
“The same old thing. Not much changes at the library. People check out books, they bring them back.” Librarian humor. “Have you heard from Dad yet?”
They passed the next thirty minutes catching up on family news and holiday plans. In the background, September’s thoughts were way too preoccupied with a certain new friend. After she said goodbye to her sister, she punched in Hawk’s home number. His machine came on and his rugged baritone across the line made her smile. She left him the information he needed for the ride—just businesslike stuff. Nothing personal.
Except for the small detail that she was grinning ear to ear by the time she hung up. So what? She was looking forward to seeing the guy. They were friends. That was a prerequisite for a friendship, right?
Right, and so were those kisses. She rolled her eyes. Best not to think about the kisses.
Luckily, Jeopardy came on. One of her faves. She turned up the volume, calling out answers along with the contestants.
But what was at the back of her mind?
Yes. Hawk. He had taken up permanent residence in her thoughts.
Chapter Eight
The rain had miraculously cleared after it had been pouring for hours. It’s a sign, September decided as she guided Comanche around the last corner and onto the main trail of the park. Clusters of trees waved, shedding the morning’s rain with plops and plinks. A half dozen squirrels peeked out from branches and boughs to get a good look at all the activity. The local trail riders’ association had a booth set up at the starting line, where she had volunteered last year.
People and horses were everywhere. She waited for a break in the line before dismounting, unwrapped General’s reins from the saddle horn and led both horses to the booth.
“I’m glad to see you back in the saddle.” A friendly face smiled up at her from behind a table. Fred Adkins made a check on his clipboard. “We were all so worried when you and that little girl went missing.”
“Thanks for joining the search party.” She opened a saddlebag. She had already sent a thank-you note to the association, for many of the members had volunteered. “It means a lot.”
“That’s what friends are for. Here are your T-shirts.” He piled a small and an extra large on the table.
“And here is my donation.” She traded six cans and two boxes of mac and cheese for the shirts. “And my sponsor sheet.”
“You are phenomenal, as always. This is going to help feed a lot of hungry kids in our town.” Fred straightened his shoulders, almost as if he were trying to get her to notice him. But did it work?
Not in the slightest. She grabbed the T-shirts, thanked him again and felt the back of her neck tingle. Comanche nickered in recognition. Hawk. He ambled toward her. In his black jacket, black jeans, black boots, he looked like the Special Forces soldier he was. His gaze found hers, and her soul stirred.
Why does he affect me so strongly, Lord? She would have loved to hear God’s answer, because she didn’t have a clue. The man had magnetism.
“I see you made it off the glacier okay.” She handed him one of the T-shirts.
“No worse for the wear.” He shrugged off his jacket and pulled the T-shirt over his head. “We had a great time. Challenged the ice. Roughed it like real men. Got in our bro bonding before his big day.”
“When is his wedding?”
“Two days before Christmas.” He caught the collar of her coat, helping her out of it.
Oh, his manner was so appealing. She tried to hide her giddiness as she pulled her new T-shirt on over the March of Dimes shirt she already wore. Both horses stood obediently, although Comanche was shaking his head up and down, as if trying desperately to say something.
“I think he’s saying hi.” She slid her arms into her coat sleeves, dangerously close to Hawk. He settled the garment at her shoulders. It was nice, how old-fashioned he was. “The black gelding who is politely waiting is General. He’s one of the horses we rent out. Gentle as a lamb and very imposing.”
“I came prepared.” Surprising her, he hauled something out of his pocket. The horses nickered, excited by whatever he held in his hand.
“Peppermints.” She laughed. Leave it to Hawk to notice the details. “You saw me feed him one.”
He nodded, and unwrapped two candies and offered one to each horse. Comanche dove for his. General politely lipped the treat from Hawk’s palm.
“And one for you.” He unwrapped a third candy and raised it to her lips.
Okay, she had never had a friend do this before, she thought as the peppermint melted on her tongue, but Hawk couldn’t be anything more. They both knew it.
“Riders, welcome to our tenth annual Ride for Hunger.” A voice aided by a bullhorn rose above the sounds of the milling crowd. September recognized the president of the riding club astride his handsome bay. “What a turnout. Thanks for being here. It might be a cold day, but we’re a warm-hearted bunch. I’ll see you at the finish line.”
Cheers rose up from the crowd and the noise swelled as people mounted up. September couldn’t resist sneaking a peek at Hawk. Through the president’s little talk, he had been rubbing General’s nose. The two struck an accord, and Hawk swiftly and competently adjusted the stirrup length.
“You thought I was new at this, huh?” He swung neatly into the saddle. “My grandma kept a pony at her place. When she was alive I would visit her quite a bit. I didn’t get a lot of horse time in, I was more of a tree-climbing, fort-building kind of kid, but I know enough to keep my seat.”
“You are one surprise after another.” She should have known, she thought, rolling her eyes. She eased into Comanche’s saddle and gathered her reins, unable to take her gaze off the man. Was there anything Hawk couldn’t do?
“I strong-armed my Ranger buddies to contribute to the cause.” With a wink, he pulled a half dozen checks from his pocket. “Do I turn them in now?”
“You can. Here, we’ll take them over.” She pressed her gelding into a slow walk. She hadn’t realized most of the crowd had taken off, following the course through the park. Odd. How had she not noticed?
Fred, however, was still at the stand, glad to take
the offered checks. His smile dimmed when he caught sight of Hawk and didn’t try to flirt.
“So, this is what you do when you aren’t at the stable?” Hawk asked, after waiting until they were on their way. “You ride for benefits. Hang out with other horse enthusiasts. Make donations to the food bank.”
“Guilty. I’ve also been known to teach Sunday school.”
“I should have known.” His voice dipped low, amused. “I can see you leading a class. Little kids?”
“First and second graders. They are so funny and I always learn something new.” She chuckled at something she didn’t share with him. Maybe she thought he wouldn’t be interested in kids. She would be wrong.
“Any other hobbies?” he asked.
“With what time? Only a true horseman would understand. Comanche is my hobby. He’s my life, too.” She leaned forward with a slight creak of the saddle to pat the palomino’s neck. Comanche tossed his head and nickered, as if to say, Of course. I deserve all her time.
Hard to argue with that.
“What about you? Besides the ice-climbing thing, which is nuts in my opinion—”
“That’s because you don’t do it,” he quipped, teasing her just to make her laugh. “A true mountaineer would understand.”
“Hey, I didn’t talk down to you when I said that.”
“I know, but I couldn’t resist.” Laughter felt good, almost as great as being with her again. “There’s nothing like being pitted against nature and winning. Besides, at the end of a climb when you are sitting on top of that mountain, sometimes pretty precariously, you can feel very close to God.”
“That’s what I like about you, Hawk. You can be funny, and you know how to be real, too.” She beamed at him.
She liked him. She said the word like. He sat straighter in the saddle, feeling mighty good. She had stayed on his mind through the last handful of days on the side of the mountain and throughout the return trip home. The guilt dogging him hadn’t faded one whit, but something began to outshine it—the strength of his feelings for her.
