A scrimmage game was in progress and looked fun. Teammates roared from the sideline as someone made a great save at the goal. After watching the players turn to setup the next play she walked north along the riding arena’s long wall. Then she turned left along the backside of the houses to where she’d parked her car that morning. Coming up the service road was Holly Healy on her bicycle. She was peddling with her head downward. Abriella watched as Holly parked her bike without looking about and slipped in the back door of Tansy Cottage.
Abriella briefly quickened her steps to say hello, but Holly was inside before she had a chance to get her attention. So she slowed again, got in her old police car, and headed home.
She found no cars in the driveway when she got there. This wasn’t terribly unusual. Mom’s shift would have started at the hospital, but typically there was something for dinner in the refrigerator. Abriella would try and stay up tonight to spend some time with her. Dad was supposed to be home by now, but was frequently later. There were a lot of heated meetings over the city’s comprehensive building plan as of late he’d told her. But she wasn’t alone. Indy was there. The gray gelding even called to her as she got out of her car.
“Just a second, Indy. Let me get a snack, and then we’ll do some stuff. Okay?”
The chalkboard by the cabinet said meatloaf and green beans were in the frig with a big red heart and “Mom”. In truth, only the meal changed each evening and the heart was a few months running. But she liked seeing it anyway. They were in the store microwaveable black plastic containers, covered in foil, which hadn’t been in the fridge long enough to be chilled. A quick warm up would have done it some good, but she didn’t want to take the time. A few minutes later she was up in her room and changing into boots and breaches.
She looked around the kitchen a little more after she came back downstairs. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for. Maybe a second note from Mom saying that in addition to warming readymade meals she had taken care of that man problem in the barn? But there was nothing. Abriella grabbed some carrots from the bottom frig drawer, took a deep breath, and exited the kitchen’s back door.
Indy called to her from the barn. With the heat and the flies, he had retreated inside to his fans and the shade. The goats were around the side after some tall weeds by the muck pile. While he didn’t come out to greet her, he definitely raised his head and ears in anticipation. She forked over the carrot right away. Then she haltered him, and cross tied him in the front of the aisle way between the front stalls. Abriella opened the tack stall for a hoof pick and worked around him, cleaning debris from the frog of each hoof. She didn’t look toward the back of the barn.
Then came the curry comb, rubbing the pointed rubber fingers in a circular motion to raise shedding hair and dirt to the surface. She started at his neck, and as she reached his shoulders, Indy leaned into her trying to increase the pressure. His lips twitched in ecstasy while she rubbed. A few circles and she had to tap the comb to remove the course gray hair clogging the brush. Indy also liked being rubbed right above his tail, swaying his hind quarters from side to side.
The other side went a little slower. He had laid down during the night in his stall, and manure had made green stains on his near white coat. When finished, she used a soft brush in a flicking motion to remove the lose particles along his body that the curry comb had dredged up, always making the motion away from his head and eyes. It was as good as he was going to look without using a hose and shampoo.
She finally broke down and glanced toward the gate at the back of the barn, and breathed a sigh of relief when she didn’t see anyone. Abriella returned to the tack stall with the brushes and grabbed a saddle pad. Embroidered in the corner was a fox leaping toward a star, the logo of the Westburg Hunt. She wasn’t old enough to join, and not sure her parents would be able to afford it if she was. But in thanks for using the fixture land and the hope of recruiting future members, the club was generous with donating prizes for the school’s inter-barn horse shows.
The rest of her tack including saddle, breast plate, and girth came quickly. Then she attached the running martingale to the breast plate and strung the reins of the bridle through its metal loops. She unhooked the halter, and let it fall to the floor still attached to one of the crossties as she put the bit in Indy’s mouth and buckled the straps of the bridle. At the last moment she snapped on her helmet and led her horse outside.
She didn’t have much in the way of jumps in the backyard. There had been some old ones that needed fixing up that Helmut had given her. The school hadn’t used them in years and he liked a tidy operation. Her dad had promised to do some sanding of the weathered wood and add some screws to hold the foot boards that kept the standards upright. But he never had. Rickety as they were though, they still held a couple of poles. After warming up, Abriella worked the exercise hearing Helmut’s voice in her head to pick the line, keep the horse in balance, and maintain the rhythm.
He said it a lot, and was fond of reminding them it wasn’t just for jumping horses, but for life. Pick a line, or goal, of what you wanted to go after and how you were going to get there. Stay balanced in the approach, not leaning or overly weighing any one aspect. That would make it easier to handle those little baubles that always happened and not be thrown off. And do it with some predictable and purposeful energy that made progress toward the goal while staying in balance.
As she came around the turn to head back to the jumps, she saw the black masked dog from the morning watching her. She sat up and gave a squeeze on the reins. Indy was huffing and dripping with sweat in the warm humid air of evening and readily stood at the halt.
She called out, “Hello, Doggie. You still hanging around? Is your owner still here?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
It was a croaking, parched sounding voice which took her by surprise from the backside of the barn. He must have slipped out the back door. Abriella had been so focused on the dog she didn’t notice the man in the drab brown clothes walking slowly from around the corner. His eyes were sunken and movements somewhat stilted. Dad had come home like that one time really late when her and her mom were still up talking; Mom had referred to him as “death warmed over.”
Abriella wrinkled her nose and then used her hand to raise her helmet from her eyes for a clearer view.
“Are you sick?”
“Yes, Ma’am. I was coming down with something. Sorry to have intruded in your barn. I needed a place to rest and didn’t have anywhere else to go. I will move on now. You ride very beautifully.”
He turned and began to walk toward the back fence. The dog quickly bounded to his side. She didn’t feel he looked that well and was going away without having tried to hurt her. The pants bloused over the boots and the military poncho made her wonder if he was a veteran.
“Hey, Sir?” she called after him.
He turned to look over his shoulder.
“Are you hungry? My mom left some meatloaf in the frig and my dad isn’t going to eat it by the time he gets home. Let me take care of Indy and I will get it for you.”
He started returning to the barn, the dog doing a wider U-turn to stay on his left side.
“Thank you. That would be nice. My name is Kelton. This is Azrael.”
“Abriella Harper. And this is Indy,” she introduced.
She liked the feeling of being able to meet him on equal terms, with her own animal companion to introduce. And talking down from her horse helped abate her shyness at a stranger.
Ten minutes later they sat on the hay bales. Kelton held the warm black plastic food container and a fork, picking at beef and green beans with Azrael at his side. Indy had cooled down in his stall and looked anxiously for his grain. Candi and Laci still looked for vines, tastier than weeds, outside.
Abriella sat with her knees pulled up to her chin and said, “I was worried your dog would hurt my goats. Most of the time dogs chase them.”
“Azrael has seen lots of goats. We were
in the war together in Iraq and he was born over there. They are cute though. You do anything special with them?”
“No. My parents can’t afford another horse and I hate for him to be lonely. So they are kind of his adopted herd mates. That was the idea anyway. I don’t think he really likes them that much, but it gives him something to chase when he has frustrations.”
“What does your dad do?”
“He chairs Westburg City Council.”
“Is that kind of like the mayor?”
“No, we have a mayor, too. But he more does all the ceremonial face of the town type things. Ribbon cuttings, holiday celebrations, decoration committees, funerals. Stuff like that. Dad leads the policy discussions. There’s a city manager too that runs all the service offices who also sits on the council.”
“Sounds like you know a lot about government.”
“It’s my favorite class. What I hate is math.”
“I’m pretty good at math. Do you need any help?”
She narrowed her eyes and looked his dirty clothes up and down.
“This isn’t like arithmetic. It’s called geometry and it’s about how lines and arcs and angles and how they relate to each other. I don’t think I’ll ever use it. We’re doing this thing called the Pythagorean Theorem which says that…”
“The square of the hypotenuse of a right triangle is the sum of the squares of the triangle’s legs.”
She stood there with an open mouth for a bit before wrinkling her nose again.
“How does, like a homeless person, know stuff like that?”
“Like a homeless person? You’ve been spending too much time in a barn instead of the classroom.”
Her cheeks flushed, “What are you trying to say about my barn?”
He smiled at her, a large warm and wonderful smile out of weathered face which could use a shave and washcloth.
“It’s a wonderful barn, and much nicer than my nonexistent house. Thank you for letting me stay another night. And the food.”
“Do you need any money?” she asked.
“No. I should pay you for the room and board though. It’s your barn.”
“Not really. It’s my dad’s. One day I’ll have my own.”
A car’s tires rattled the gravel of the driveway up by the house.
“Speaking of my dad, I got to go.”
Kelton nodded, “I understand, and thank you again.”
She dumped Indy’s grain in his feeder and opened the stall door. He’d be able to go out when finished at his leisure. She secured the feed room, put a couple flakes of hay out on the grass to take some of the grazing pressure off of it, and strode up to the house.
Her dad was in the living room slumped in the recliner. On the small table built about the reading lamp was a tumbler of coke but Abriella could readily smell the rum. He held the television remote in his hand, seeming to hesitate over pushing the on button.
“Hey, Daddy. You’re home really late.”
He put the remote down.
“Hard day at the office. A slick land developer wants to build a golf course with a helicopter pad for D.C. bigwigs. There’s a lot of jobs and money at stake. But the hunt doesn’t want helicopters disturbing the horses. A big showdown is brewing.”
She asked some questions and he gave her answers. The TV never came on, and the coke went flat. And then Mom came home. Even though Abriella’s eyes were blurry and tomorrow she would be tired, family time made it a great day. Even with her little secret in the barn.
CHAPTER—4
Abriella hit the snooze for a second time, not wanting to fight to alertness through the shroud of tiredness which assaulted her. It wasn’t as though she’d done really badly on total hours of sleep. She’d probably nodded off talking to her dad around 10 pm. Then, after some light sleep slouching on the couch, her mom came through the door around 12:30 in the morning. They got to talk for half an hour, and that kept her mom from having anything to drink in order to wind down from the stress of the hospital. Then it had then been time to climb the stairs and try for the real sleep that a maturing young body needs.
It was the ding from the text message that stirred her enough to grasp her phone from where it charged on her nightstand. Abriella didn’t even read the text. She saw the time on her lock screen, and her body surged with adrenaline. She’d already honed her morning process down to minimal minutes. This morning she was starting twenty minutes behind. It was a catastrophe.
She skipped the shower, making a quick once over with a washcloth work before throwing on her clothes. Lipstick could wait until a traffic light. She could skip breakfast, but she couldn’t make Indy suffer for her mistake. Abriella ran down to the barn.
Indy was in his stall finishing up his grain. The right amount of hay flakes rested by his front hooves. Sawdust bedding was fresh and clean. His water bucket was full and fresh. Kelton came up the barn aisle from the back with his dog.
“I did a few chores to pay my rent. I hope you don’t mind. I fixed the loose boards at the base of your jumps, too. If you have any sandpaper, I’ll also take the splinters off. They could definitely use a coat of paint.”
Before she could reply her phone dinged again and she drew it like a gun. It was Kate asking her if she’d gotten the previous message.
“What is it?” he asked.
“One of my school friends. There’s probably a quiz this morning. It was supposed to have been earlier this week but the copier broke. Some special part got backordered. Our geometry teacher was seen carrying in from the parking lot a thick parcel of papers in a Duplication Station bag. She gave us the problems already, but none of us understand this stuff. If we don’t do well, we won’t get to go to the Hunt’s Summer Memorial Service tomorrow and they always have fun food. Mrs. Grant doesn’t give much wiggle room on stuff like that.”
Kelton shrugged his shoulders and spread his hands, “I can help you with that.”
Abriella looked more closely at him. He was dressed in the same rugged brown clothes, but they were fresh and clean looking. His face was shaven and hair neat. In short, he was very plain but presentable. Even Azrael had clearly been brushed and was in a body harness of some type.
Kelton responded to her doubts, “I have a Bachelor of Science in Mechanical Engineering. I’m very good at math, and Azrael can speak to me being a trainer.”
Azrael quietly panted, and after a long pause thumped his tail twice.
“Will you help all of us? First period on Friday is a study hall, but the class is right after it.”
“Okay,” Kelton nodded. “But your teachers probably won’t take kindly to me being on campus.”
“I’ll sneak you in. We have a house. Come on!”
They strode toward her car, Kelton carrying his pack in his left arm. He tossed it on the back seat, and sent Azrael in after it as Abriella started the engine. It was another morning wearing a groove into the asphalt of Hounds Tooth and Full Cry Roads.
Kelton looked up at the stately brick building on the hill as they approached, and decided it reminded him of a southern mansion. It didn’t have the imposing character of a castle like the U.S. Military Academy at West Point, but it conveyed gentility and a gateway to the top tiers of Virginia society. How real that was, he was far from certain. He certainly had never heard of the school before. But he also wasn’t a corporate executive trying to prepare his daughter for the world.
Abriella glanced at him and ordered, “Slouch down. We’ll be going by some houses. Most the girls will be on the sleeping porches on the other side facing the hockey field, but someone may come out the back and see you.”
“Platz,” he said as he moved his hips forward to lower himself in the Crown Vic’s passenger front seat. Azrael downed on the command, disappearing from behind the rearview mirror. The car rocked up and down going over speedbumps.
“Okay, I’m looping around the barn so really slouch. Helmut and Jose will be out doing barn chores.”
Kel
ton bent his knees even further, and then twisted his body down toward the center consul. The old cruiser was roomy, and by placing his bottom against the door he managed to get well under the windshield. It also put his nose near her thigh, and the smell of lilac soap was nice for a couple of minutes. Then he felt the car making a harder turn.
“I’m coming to the back door now. Stay down until I make sure the coast is clear,” she instructed. There was a long pause as she looked about, then she picked up her phone and started texting a message. A moment later she was answered with a ding.
“Vicky is opening the back door for you. Run right on in and I’ll get the back door for your dog. Your backpack can stay on my backseat. Okay?”
Kelton thought about it a moment and replied, “Only if you lock your car.”
Despite his mantra to never leave any gear behind, that would be the best he would be able to do. His Glock Model 40 was hidden in his pack. He hadn’t wanted to shock her with it, slinging it around her farm like some road warrior outlaw. And he sure didn’t want to leave a loaded handgun lying about unsecured. Especially on a school ground.
She nodded, eyes shifting rapidly back and forth, and then twisted toward her door. Then, with a glance back over her shoulder, she gave the command, “Go.”
He bolted from the car and in a few quick strides was coming in the open doorway. Azrael jumped the seatback and went after him through the front passenger door before Abriella could free him from the backseat. But regardless, Kelton and his dog were inside and to the best of his knowledge had not been spotted.
By Dog Alone: A Kelton Jager Adventure Book 2 Page 3
