Dance from the Heart (Dancing with Horses Book 3)

by Toni Mari

  Mark stood beside Michelle. “Sir, it’s not a crime to give up your animals, but keeping them the way you are is. Do the right thing.”

  The man’s steely gray eyes darted to Mark’s wing-tipped shoes and then traveled slowly up his pressed dungarees, over his crisp Oxford shirt, and flicked to the shiny car parked by the curb. “They’re mine,” he said stubbornly.

  Mark coolly withstood the man’s frank appraisal. Then his brows drew together, and he reached for his wallet. “What will it take?”

  The little gnome began to smile.

  Michelle put her hand over Mark’s. “That’s not how we usually do it, Mark. He doesn’t deserve your money.”

  Mark paused. “No, he doesn’t. But if those two horses are lucky, he’ll sign the papers and take this wad of cash and go spend it at that bar we passed. And then he’ll never get near another animal again. Right, sir?”

  The man’s jaw dropped lower and lower as Mark counted out the bills, and he licked the spittle from the corners of his lips. His greedy fingers reached for the money, but Mark held it out of his reach. Mark’s voice was hard, and he commanded, “Sign the paper.”

  The man didn’t hesitate. He took the pen and signed over ownership to EMA Rescue. He grabbed the cash and then disappeared inside the dilapidated house.

  Michelle flung her arms around Mark, accidentally smacking me with the clipboard. “You did it! You’re awesome!” She turned to me. “Jane, I thought you said you got someone to come with a trailer?” She tossed the paperwork on the seat of her car and led our little group over to the gate. It looked like the man had kept it together with baling twine. As soon as we reached the fence, Mandy was under it.

  With a surprising burst of energy, the two bedraggled beasts ran past her in the tiny paddock, nearly knocking her off her feet.

  “Get back here!” I screeched, ducking through the wires and yanking Mandy out of the mud and the path of the panicked animals.

  Their long, thick winter coats were matted with crud, disguising how truly thin they were. The dirty, stiff, too small halters had worn patches of hair from behind their ears.

  Mandy bent to crawl through the fence, and I gave her a shove when the mare pinned her ears flat back against her skull and made another charge at us.

  Dodging the snapping teeth, I slipped in the mud. Two strong arms saved me from falling in the mire, and once I was steady on my feet, Cory lunged in front of me and waved his hat to keep the mare away.

  I slithered through the wire and plopped down into the stiff, dead grass on the outside of the fence. The mare retreated to the far side of the pen, pushing the other horse in front of her. I knew my heart wasn’t pumping a crazy beat from anything the poor scared animal had done.

  What was Cory doing here?

  He turned to climb out, the concern on his face quickly disappearing behind a cool mask.

  I brushed dirt from my jeans and kept my eyes on Mandy. “That is exactly why your mother kept you from coming to the rescues,” I said, a little more sternly than I meant. “We don’t know anything about these animals, and their fear can cause them to be dangerous. Never go into a pen like that with a strange horse.”

  Mandy spread her legs and crossed her arms. “I was fine. I just felt bad for the poor things.”

  Mark cut in, “Mandy, a thank you would have been enough.” He turned to Michelle. “What do we have to do to get these horses out of here? This place is disgusting.” He held his hand out to Cory. “Mark Grant.”

  Cory stepped forward and took his hand firmly. “Cory Banks. Kate asked me to come. She couldn’t change the lessons she had scheduled. If you’ll move your car, sir, I’ll back the trailer right up to the gate to make it safer to load these two.”

  Mark and Cory went to move the vehicles.

  Mandy asked, “How are we going to catch them if the mare keeps running away?”

  “She’s protecting the other horse from us. When Cory comes back, he and I will approach them together. The fewer people in the pen, the better. You wait out here. There will be plenty of time for you to mess with them when we get them safely back to the barn.”

  Mandy’s face tightened, but she didn’t insist on helping.

  Cory carried two lead ropes and handed one to me. “Ready?”

  All of our differences were forgotten as together we eased into the paddock and focused on the two nervous horses we were there to help. The mare stood with her haunches toward us, glaring dully over her shoulder. We walked calmly and slowly toward her. She switched her tail in warning and tossed her head, attempting to move the gelding farther away. His ears were pricked at us, interested in what we had in our hands, but he obeyed the bossier horse and took a step back.

  Before we got too close, the mare nipped the gelding on the butt, making him jump forward and run past us. Mud spattered over us as they thundered by. When he reached the end of the small paddock, the gelding whirled around and came back. The mare tried to follow, but her weak legs slipped in the muck, and she went down.

  She grunted as her hooves scraped ineffectively against the mushy ground. I slapped a hand over my mouth, cringing while she struggled.

  Cory took the opportunity to ease up to the gelding and quietly snapped the lead onto his halter. The gelding allowed himself to be caught when the mare wasn’t chasing him away.

  I crooned soothing words to the mare but stayed out of the way of her flailing legs, hoping she would get a foothold. She rested a moment flat on her side, with her ribs heaving.

  “Easy, girl, I want to help you,” I whispered, leaning down to clip on the lead. I tugged gently on her head and she rolled up onto her knees. “Take it easy, go slow.”

  Something in my voice must have reached her because she watched me steadily as she stretched out her front legs. I leaned with all my weight against the rope helping as she heaved herself up. My hold kept her from sliding backward again. As soon as all four feet were holding her up, she flung around, whinnying to the other horse. He answered with a soft nicker but submitted to Cory’s petting comfortably.

  “I’ll lead him to the trailer first. Keep her right on his tail,” Cory told me. He called to Mark and Michelle, “Be ready to hook up the butt bars. If we’re lucky, they’ll walk right on when they smell the hay.”

  It took both Mandy and Michelle to wrestle the rusty gate open. The gelding followed Cory until his toes were a step away from the ramp, and then he planted his hooves, his eyes widening in fear. Cory held the rope steady and waited for him to relax his stance.

  The mare followed with shaky legs, her breathing heavy. When he halted, she nickered to him. I tried to stop her behind the other horse but the mare spotted the hay net hanging in the trailer and had other ideas.

  “Go with it,” Cory advised. “Let her go in first if she wants to.”

  Nodding, I marched in front of her, right up the ramp. She followed, opened her jaws, and chomped down on the hay. I latched the chest bar while Michelle hooked up the butt bar, and the mare was safely on.

  The gelding whinnied to her and she answered as best she could with her mouth full of hay. At her encouragement, the skinny brown horse lowered his head and sniffed at the rubber-lined ramp. Bending his legs and examining every step, he tiptoed into the trailer, muscles quivering as the vehicle shuddered gently under his weight.

  As soon as his tail was in, Michelle put up the butt bar. Cory latched the chest bar, and the gelding sighed, letting his hooves fully rest on the trailer floor. He leaned on the bar and looked out the side door. Satisfied that he would survive and that the floor would hold him, he finally took a bite of hay.

  I dug treats out of my pocket and gave each horse a nugget. I had to push it between the gelding’s lips because he didn’t seem to know he could take it in his mouth.

  Smiling proudly, I turned to Cory. “That was relatively easy. Good horses.”

  He returned my smile and my heart flipped. Wishing I could throw my arms around him, I leaned in
his direction. He tugged his hat down and turned to jump out of the trailer, his face stiffening.

  We closed up the doors and lifted the ramp into place. The two triangular rumps were barely visible over the ramp. The tired mare rested her hip against the padded divider. Both heads bobbed as they pulled hay from the net hanging between them.

  I couldn’t wait to get them back to the barn, into heavily bedded, dry stalls with a pile of sweet green hay and clear, fresh water. My fingers tingled with anticipation to get a brush on those rough coats. I secured the last ramp latch and automatically headed for the truck cab.

  “Good idea,” Michelle called. “You go ahead with Cory to the barn. I want to knock on this guy’s door and see if he has any health records or registration papers for these two.”

  Mandy piped up, “I want to ride with the horses, too.”

  Mark nodded. “Fine. I’ll follow behind.”

  I gritted my teeth. There would be no private conversation with Cory. But I held the door open for her and she slid in between us. I tried not to notice Cory’s look of relief.

  Back at the farm, the gelding hesitated to move backward off the trailer, but the mare knew what she was doing, and so he decided to give it a go. We let them settle each in a stall and Mark agreed to bring Mandy back the next afternoon to spend time with them. As Mark and Mandy climbed into his car, he sent me a grateful nod. He seemed pleased that Mandy was showing so much interest.

  Before Cory could say anything, I invited him up to my room for a cup of hot chocolate. Surprisingly, he agreed.

  I took two mugs into the bathroom to fill them with water and Cory stood in the middle of the ratty carpet, looking around.

  “You can sit on my bed,” I said. I put the cups in the microwave and turned it on.

  “This place is a dump. My room in my trailer is nicer than this.”

  I looked at the raw, dust-darkened plank walls, the sagging ceiling, and the one dimly lit lamp on the old dresser. I had stopped noticing my surroundings and had focused on schoolwork and training. A bed and a roof were all I needed.

  “The bed’s comfortable, try it.” The butterflies in my stomach woke up at his heated look.

  “I have missed you,” he said quietly, but he didn’t move toward me.

  “I have missed you so much!” I plunged toward him but stopped, stricken, when he took a step back.

  “I have always wondered if dating me, if all this,” he swept an arm up, “is a rich girl slumming it because she is fascinated by the other side.”

  My fingers trembled. “The other side?” I stuttered.

  “Yeah, you know, I live in a trailer, Brandon, with his beat-up old truck, this decrepit barn. Why aren’t you in your new car at your fancy school dating some up-and-comer? Why are you living like your family doesn’t have money?”

  “Because I have a dream.” My jaw tightened. Tension rose in my gut, killing off the butterflies.

  He shook his head. “Nothing that couldn’t happen while living at home and listening to your father.”

  The microwave dinged, giving me an excuse to turn away from him. Swallowing, I took the heated water out and stirred in chocolate powder. “You’re wrong. And I loved you because you are you, not because of what you have or what your house looks like.”

  “Right. And now it’s Brandon, because he’s such a stand-up guy, with a bright future working at the feed store and roping calves.”

  My eyes lifted and landed on the posters of Erica. My neck clenched and my cheeks burned. I whirled around and strode right over to his tall lanky form and poked him as hard as I could in the chest. That’s right, take a step back now.

  “Maybe you ought to think about your own priorities, dude,” I said, glaring up at his face. “You’re the snob, dating me because I come from money, because I have what you never had, a nice house and a dad, and you’re jealous. I believe in what I am doing and after the Festival, you’ll see how everything will fall into place. This place,” I said, waving a hand around the room, “is a stepping stone to the life I want—not a life revolving around how much money I have in my bank account or what kind of car I drive. But a life where I can make a difference to people and animals, like those two neglected creatures downstairs.”

  Cory’s eyebrows flew up. He took off his hat, ran a hand through his hair, and smashed the hat back down. His mouth was open, but no words came out.

  I started to reach for the hot chocolate but then stamped my foot.

  Shaking my head, I hissed, “No! You should leave. I don’t have anything to apologize for—you do!”

  Cory’s fists clenched at his sides and his icy blue gaze blazed. With a curt nod, he left.

  I stood frozen until the sound of the truck starting penetrated my shock. Tears trickled and I fought them back. No, I wouldn’t cry. How could I have misjudged our relationship so badly? I ran down the stairs and out to Windsong’s paddock, wiping my cheeks.

  Windsong and Santos lifted their heads when I appeared at the gate. Santos immediately walked over and Windsong followed. I rubbed both their noses, letting Santos blow softly on my face and Windsong nuzzle my palm. This was what I needed, not a shallow, false boyfriend.

  When Cory and I had first met, he called me Princess. Apparently, his opinion hadn’t changed. “Windsong, we’ll show him at the Festival. I am not just some rich, spoiled brat.” And I unbuckled his halter from where it was hanging on the gate. “Come on, we’ve got work to do.”

  Chapter 30

  Michelle appeared while I was bridling Windsong.

  “They look happy in there,” she commented. She looked through the bars of the stalls at the new arrivals.

  “They settled right in. Both of them drank a half a bucket of water as soon as we put them in a stall.”

  “That guy was a piece of work. The good news is that they have papers. The mare is a registered quarter horse named Micky’s Sunny Swig, and the gelding is her three-year-old son, Micky’s Shooter. Michael Beers obviously had a good time naming them.”

  Holding Windsong’s head still, I buckled the noseband. “They’re big for quarter horses.” They both were about sixteen hands, even though they weighed only about nine hundred and fifty pounds at the moment.

  “They have some Thoroughbred in their lineage. Mr. Beers said he bred them for the hunter ring. He had big plans for them but never got around to doing anything. The mare is well trained, but the colt was started and nothing more.”

  “That explains why the mare was so protective of her son. They seem to be pretty quiet and sensible otherwise.”

  “They will probably be good candidates for adoption once Donna gets them looking good.” Michelle smiled. “Gotta go. I’ll talk to you in the next couple of days. Thanks for your help.”

  After a brief and careful ride in the mucky ring, I brought Santos into his stall, too, and fed dinner. The new horses seemed surprised when I dropped a small amount of grain in their feed bins, but that didn’t stop them from licking it up.

  Dinner passed quickly. Donna and I discussed the new horses the whole time. She outlined her procedures for new arrivals and instructed me on what their feeding regimen would be.

  I occupied my brain with schoolwork until night barn check. Everyone was munching quietly. When I finally laid my head down to sleep, Cory’s last look haunted me, making for a restless night.

  I woke up bleary eyed and eased my tired body out of bed. I opened my laptop and checked the weather and my email. I had continued to forward my grades to my father and neurotically checked for a response from him. But, like Cory, he was angry, and I was getting the silent treatment from him. I clicked send anyway and waited for the icon to stop twirling before closing the lid.

  Rubbing my face and smoothing my hands over my hair, I stood to get dressed. Since it was Saturday, I needed to get the chores done quickly because Brandon was coming to take me for a lesson with Kate. I let gravity boost my momentum and tripped down the stairs in my boots. With my m
ind on the order of things I had to do, I nearly ran over Mark and Mandy in the aisle.

  “Oops! Sorry.”

  “What are you running from up there? Bats or something?” Mark joked. Mandy wasn’t amused and brushed her coat where I had bumped her, like I had soiled it in some way.

  “I’m sorry. I’m in hurry to get my work done because I’m taking Windsong out for a lesson.” I continued to the feed bins, talking over my shoulder.

  “Mandy would like to help with the new horses.”

  Measuring feed into individual buckets, I just nodded. “’Kay.”

  “Can she stay with you? I’ll come back for her later?” Mark asked.

  I straightened, looking at Mandy’s back. She stood with her arms crossed and looked in the stall of the new gelding. Her black hair was in a simple pony tail and stuck out of the bottom of a red beanie. She had left her skull earrings and studded belt at home, but the permanent sneer was still in place. “Like I said, I have to leave.”

  Mark lowered his voice and hunched forward. “She asked to come, and I don’t want to do anything to discourage her. Is there any way she can go with you? I’ll pay you.”

  My ears perked up; I needed money, but I wasn’t a babysitter. And then I remembered how much Erica did for me, and the Mandy who was my friend last summer. “No way that I’ll take your money! She’s welcome if you don’t mind me dragging her to my old farm and back.”

  Heaving a sigh, he admitted, “I’d be so grateful. I want her to want this again, you know. I’ll be back this afternoon.” It looked like he was going to hug me again, but another look at Mandy’s stiff back had me leaning away.

  “No problem.”

  After he left, I lifted the stack of feed buckets. Walking past Mandy, I explained, “I have to get all my chores done before Brandon gets here. When we come back, we will have some time to work with the new horses. For now, we’ll turn them out into our isolation pen and clean the barn.”

  I shrugged off the belligerent look she gave me. “Or you could just stand around while I work, but you are not touching those horses without close supervision. We don’t know how they will behave.” I walked out of the barn to the pastures.