by Toni Leland
In somber silence, they watched the old barn burn to the ground.
12
By the time Liz and Kurt trudged up the hill, the firemen had rolled up the hoses, and were peeling off their heavy suits. The sodden, smoldering ruins permeated the air with an acrid odor. Liz walked toward the spot where Marilyn sat on the ground, her back against the house.
Squatting down, Liz lightly touched her arm. "Marilyn, let's go inside."
The old woman slowly turned her head, following the sound of Liz's voice and trying to focus vacant eyes. Her lips moved, but no words came out. She tried again, her voice but a whisper.
"It's gone."
Liz felt deep sympathy for the poor soul who'd just lost so much, but seconds later, a positive attitude tempered Liz's pity. It could have been worse - at least we saved the horses.
When Marilyn was inside and settled into her chair, Liz moved into the kitchen to make some tea, staring with distaste at the sink piled with dirty dishes filled with scummy water and moldy bits of food. As she poked through cupboards looking for a kettle, Marilyn's rocky condition worried her. She might be in mild shock, or need to be hospitalized. I'll have to watch her closely for a while. Reaching into a small cupboard to retrieve a teakettle, Liz spotted a small glass vial and metal box. She threw a quick look toward the sitting room, then picked up the vial. A second later, she understood Marilyn's confused state. Insulin. She's diabetic.
The labor of the night's drama screamed through every aching muscle, as Liz washed the greasy, black soot from her hands and arms. Her thoughts returned to the fire. How did it start? And how did it get so far out of hand before the fire department showed up?
Kurt appeared beside her. "Find a kettle?"
She nodded. It felt so good to have him near. She resisted the powerful urge to lean against him and close her eyes for just a minute. Glancing toward the sitting room, she lowered her voice.
"How do you think the fire started?"
Kurt shook his head. "I dunno. Maybe smoker's carelessness."
"But, Kurt, the woman's been in the business for years. Surely she wouldn't smoke in the barn!"
He shrugged. "Folks get worn out in this rat-race, get careless. I really don't know much about her."
Liz remained silent, unable to deal with the notion of setting one's own barn on fire.
A few minutes later, Marilyn sipped the tea, but still seemed dazed. Liz grasped her arm.
"Marilyn, do you need your insulin?"
The woman looked baffled, then shook her head and spoke haltingly.
"No...I took my shot at dinnertime...I'm just tired."
Liz rose from the couch, motioning for Kurt to follow her to the kitchen.
"I think I'd better stay with her the rest of the night. She's diabetic, and seems a little shocky. If she needs medical attention, someone should be here to take her to the hospital."
"I'll stay, too. You might need help."
She searched his face, warming to the sincerity written on his weary features. Gratitude swelled in her chest, followed by another unfamiliar feeling where Kurt was concerned - trust.
Marilyn finally drifted into a deep sleep, and Kurt went down to the pond pasture to check on the horses, leaving Liz alone with her thoughts. She was sticky and dirty, but didn't have the strength to let it bother her. Leaning her head back on the couch, her heavy, burning eyelids closed. Immediately, against the dark backdrop of her brain, flames licked around the corners of the barn and into stalls filled with screaming horses. Her eyes flew open, her heart thundering. How many times will I have to live this night again?
As the urgency of the disaster began to fade, her thoughts centered on the teamwork she and Kurt had shared in order to save nine horses from death. Kurt had plunged into the dangerous situation without hesitation, confident of his skill in getting the terrified animals to obey him.
Her own courage had been bolstered by his presence, and the certainty that he would help her if she needed him. The memory of his protective, tender embrace warmed her heart. There's a lot more to this man than he wants me to see.
Kurt returned, and settled down next to her, intruding on her musings and bringing her back to the reality of the present.
"The horses are fine for tonight. I'll pick up some feed and hay in the morning." His gaze drifted to Marilyn's sleeping figure. "I wonder what she'll do with 'em, now that she doesn't have a barn."
Liz's analytical mind switched on. "That's a legitimate question. Nine horses can't live in that tiny pond pasture for more than a day or two. We can talk to her when she wakes up, see what she wants to do." She thought for a minute. "I have two empty stalls in the barn, and my run-in shed is pretty large, but I don't have room for all of them. Could you take a couple back to Aliqua?"
He shook his head. "I doubt that Eve would be agreeable. She and Marilyn have never gotten along."
Liz bristled. "Well, this isn't exactly a social event we're talking about! Doesn't she have any feelings for other people?"
Kurt's crooked smile emphasized his words. "Not much, Lovey. She's a one-woman woman."
Liz fumed for a minute, then decided not to waste time and energy thinking about Eve Aliqua.
"I'll call Colleen. Fairhill might have some room."
As she outlined a plan from beginning to end, she was aware of Kurt's indulgent smile. A minute later, he slipped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close, resting his cheek on top of her head.
"You are somethin', you know that?"
She laid her head on his shoulder, loving the protective feel of his arm, the soft pressure of his face against her hair, his heart beating strong and steady beneath his shirt. They cuddled quietly for a few minutes, then Kurt lifted her chin and gazed at her without speaking. She looked into his eyes, saw the desire, and spiraled into a whirlpool of her own longing. The spin ended as his lips covered hers, melting her against his body and capturing her in the kiss she'd dreamed about for so long.
When their lips parted, a flash of courage surprised her.
"You're not too bad yourself," she whispered, breathless from the sexual energy coursing through her body. "I think we're pretty good together."
Kurt pulled her closer, his hand quickly moving to her breast, his voice husky with need.
"Let's find out."
Marilyn sat straight up in her recliner.
"What's goin' on? What're you doin' here?"
Liz leapt up from the couch, embarrassed at having been caught in Kurt's arms, and struggling to control the emotions raging through her head.
She moved to the chair. "How are you feeling?"
Marilyn looked confused, then indignant. "I'm fine. Now, what the hell are you doin' here?"
Liz laid her hand lightly on the woman's arm. "Do you remember the fire?"
A brief silence, then recognition flashed across Marilyn's lined face. Her worn features crumpled with the reality that the fire hadn't been a bad dream. She started to weep and keen, rocking back and forth in her dingy chair. Liz felt helpless, watching pain rack the old woman's body and mind.
Marilyn's tears finally subsided, and she turned her misery-ravaged gaze toward Kurt. "Are they all gone?"
"No, they're all okay. We put them down by the pond."
The old woman began to weep again, this time, with relief.
After about an hour, Marilyn had regained her composure. Liz took charge and the conversation turned to the fate of the horses.
"I can take three or four to my place. We'll find temporary homes for the rest while you rebuild the barn."
Marilyn's red eyes brimmed with tears again. "I can't rebuild. I don't have no insurance...I couldn't pay the premiums."
Kurt hadn't said much, but now he spoke up.
"How about we get them settled somewhere, then help you sell them?"
Marilyn looked defeated. "Yeah, I guess that'd be okay. I really can't take care of 'em anymore. I'm too old, and I can't afford their upkeep. Sel
lin' 'em's the best thing to do."
The outlines of the trees were barely visible against the dawn sky when Kurt and Liz silently climbed into the truck. As they headed down the lane, Liz looked back once more at the blackened rubble, and shuddered.
Kurt remained quiet during the drive. Liz glanced at him several times, wondering what he was thinking. Her own thoughts were filled with the embrace on the couch. God, I have never felt so wonderful in my life! The skin on her breast tightened with the memory of his caress, and she felt a stir deep inside. Her breath quickened. In moments, they'd be able to pick up where they'd left off.
The truck eased to a stop by her back door.
Kurt's expression was serious. "Listen, I'm sorry about last night. I got a little carried away - tired from all the excitement, I guess." He hesitated. "Truth is, I just don't have any room in my life for a relationship. You really turn me on, but as you pointed out, we shouldn't mix business with our personal lives."
The words stung like a slap, and Liz's thoughts hardened. You arrogant son-of-a-bitch! Without a word, she opened the door, and jumped to the ground.
His voice followed her. "I'll probably see you around."
Looking back at him, she saw a hint of sadness cross his features. Her heart bumped painfully, but her voice was without emotion.
"Not if I can help it."
Kurt drove through the early morning mist, a cold lump in the pit of his stomach. Liz Barnett had wormed her way into his life, and he'd found himself thinking of her as the most fascinating women he'd ever met. She always seemed to be in control of what she wanted. Smart. Professional. Successful. Sexy. He wanted to be with her in the worst way, but now she'd be the Aliqua vet, and she owned a colt that might derail his own plans. He had to consider her as nothing more than competition in the show ring.
As he watched the narrow road ahead, her face floated through his thoughts, the taste of her willing mouth still on his lips, the memory of her firm breast beneath his hand. The jarring events of the previous six hours had shown Liz's courage in the face of danger, and it was proving to be even more exciting than her physical appeal. Her self-confidence gave her the strength to take charge when needed. He cringed, recalling what a jerk he'd been the morning they'd met in the stall. It had only taken her a moment to put him in his place. And I've been right there ever since.
He slipped back into the memory of their embrace on Marilyn's couch. What was I thinking, kissing her like that? Taking a deep breath, he shook off the thoughts and switched on the radio. The country-western strains of "Achy, Breaky Heart" drifted through the cab, a fitting tribute to his life.
13
Liz was trembling by the time she reached her bedroom. A rush of emotional choices swept through her: cry, scream, throw something. She stood beneath the pounding heat of the shower, hugging her arms tightly, fighting the urge to let herself go. The silky water flowed down her shoulders and over her breasts, a sensuous reminder of Kurt's intimate caress. She'd wanted him, desperately wanted him, but bad timing had interfered, and he'd panicked. Now, her own fear loomed as a reminder of her vulnerability.
Twenty minutes later, she fell into a deep sleep, free of the filthy reminders of the night, but not the pain. When she awoke, the bright sunlight streaming through the window confused her. Immediately, the inferno burned its way into her conscious, a memory of the living nightmare. She slid out of bed, her body protesting as painful muscles begged her to crawl back under the covers.
Lulled by the gurgle-hiss-plunk of the coffeepot, she thought about Kurt: his confidence during the fire, the tender moment on Marilyn's couch. These facets made him seem real and vulnerable, even likeable. His awkward apology had embarrassed her at the time, but now it simply puzzled her. I can accept the business-pleasure conflict, but what's really bothering him?
A minute later, she knew she couldn't spend any more emotional energy on it. She had to concentrate on her own, very real problems - which now included the fate of nine horses.
She slipped on her boots, then headed up the drive toward the barn, her brain replaying the horror of the fire. She tried to block out the image, unable to even think about a disaster in her own barn. A second later, her mood lightened as heads appeared over stall doors and eager whinnies warmed her heart.
Dishing out the morning grain, she mentally reorganized the stalls. Miss Marcy will definitely be in the barn. At her age, she deserves all the comfort she can get.
Muscala stared at Liz from the back of the stall.
"Hi, Sweetie. Ready for breakfast?"
As Liz opened the latch, the gray mare abruptly turned away, retreating to the farthest corner of the stall, and swinging her rump toward her owner.
"Hey! That's not very nice."
Surprised by the display of bad attitude, Liz hesitated outside the door and watched the horse for a minute, then slipped in, and poured grain into the feed tub. Something about Muscala's bearing put Liz on edge. I hope it's just the new surroundings, or her pregnancy. I'd better keep an eye on her.
Colleen gasped several times as Liz related the saga of the fire.
"If we'd been thirty minutes later..." She stopped, unable to think about the consequences of bad timing. "Colleen, do you have room for a couple of extra horses until we find buyers for them?"
"We have four empty stalls right now. I'll ask Effie, and call ya back."
Liz hung up, and did the math. Three horses would have to stay outside, but that wouldn't be a problem. The weather was good, and the run-in shed would provide some protection if they needed it. She sighed deeply. Five extra horses would put a strain on her, especially with Fair Lady arriving the following week, and a horse show at the end of the month. Well, can't be helped. I'll just have to deal with it.
As she approached the dirt lane to Marilyn's farm, Liz felt a rush of anxiety. Rounding the curve, she choked back the hard lump that rose in her throat as the black pile of cold rubble came into view.
She knocked on the door, then pushed it open, calling out. Marilyn's voice answered from somewhere at the back of the house. Liz stood awkwardly in the middle of the room where she'd spent the better part of the night. She looked everywhere but at the couch where she and Kurt had shared their tender moment. One of the cats rubbed against her leg and mewed pitifully.
Marilyn appeared, waving a cigarette. "These cats are drivin' me crazy."
Liz got right down to business. "I've made room at my place for five of your horses, and Colleen at Fairhill will take four. They'll be well cared for until we can find buyers for them. How does that sound?"
Marilyn stubbed out the cigarette, and threw Liz a withering look. "That sounds just dandy. What do you want me to do? Applaud?"
Liz's anger rose quickly. "Hold on just a minute. I don't think you fully understand your situation. The horses can't live on their own, and you said yourself that you couldn't take care of them any more. I thought we agreed about what needs to be done."
Marilyn's face crumpled, and she slumped into one of the kitchen chairs.
"I know. I'm sorry. I can't believe this is happening. My life has been just one big downhill slide."
Willing away her anger, Liz picked up the dish of cat-food that Marilyn had filled, and placed it on the floor.
"I know it's been horrible, but we need to think about the horses. And you. I can pick them up tomorrow afternoon, and then you can concentrate on whatever you have to do about the barn."
The old woman nodded in defeat. She lit another cigarette, and inhaled deeply.
"Sorry. I just need time to get adjusted."
Liz headed toward the door. "I'm going to check on the horses."
Walking briskly down the hill toward the pond, her anger faded as nine heads swung toward her. Miss Marcy offered a long greeting, then returned to her patch of grass. Liz smiled wryly. At least someone appreciates my efforts.
Kurt had already been there. A large bale of hay lay open, and the horses had scattered most of it
over the ground. She located the horse with the wound, and examined her work of the night before. Looks pretty good, but twenty-four hours will tell the tale. Holding the horse's halter tightly, she injected an antibiotic into the soft flesh at the base of his neck. That should do it, but I'd better ask about tetanus shots. Marilyn's lax barn maintenance probably also meant that vaccinations weren't up to date. One more thing to worry about.
Marilyn came out of the house as Liz climbed into the truck.
"Liz, I'm really sorry about the way I acted. I do appreciate everything you're doing for me...I'll help...I promise."
"Good. That'll make things easier." Liz hesitated, considering what she wanted to say. "Marilyn, were you smoking in the barn yesterday?"
The woman looked stunned. "Are you kidding? Do you think I'm an idiot?"
"No, I don't...but, something started the fire. When were you out there last?"
Marilyn thought for a moment. "I fed around six o'clock." Suddenly, her eyes narrowed and her voice became hard. "I had a guy working on the tractor out in the shed. He didn't leave until after dark."
Liz climbed into her truck. "You'd better call the fire marshal, and give him that information."
That evening, Kurt phoned, and Liz took the call cautiously, not eager for another disastrous conversation.
His voice sounded subdued. "I was wondering if you need any help collecting those horses."
Her first impulse was to say yes, just to see if anything had changed, then self-preservation kicked in.
"No, I can handle it. I have a large trailer, and Colleen is taking the rest. But, thanks anyway."
There seemed to be nothing more to say, and the line remained silent for a very long moment.
Kurt spoke first. "Liz, about what I said last - "
"No, Kurt. Don't say anything more. You've let me know how you feel. Let's leave it at that."
