The Cinderella List

by Judy Baer

  Though she knew it at her core, she didn’t admit that the real reason she agreed to Randall’s demand was that it would allow her to be more deeply involved in the program that was so close to Jake’s heart—and to Jake himself.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “See me ride, Marlo, see me ride!” Cammi, her back straight and her posture relaxed, looked as though she and Feather had been together forever.

  “I wish I could ride like that,” Marlo muttered to herself, not expecting to be overheard.

  Alfred, however, turned his head. “Jake taught her himself. He’s an excellent rider. When Sabrina was Cammi’s age, he taught her, too.” He smiled at the memory. “Jake was a good-looking guy, even as a teenager. Sabrina was completely infatuated with him. I’m glad they’ve maintained their relationship all these years.”

  Marlo wasn’t nearly so delighted. She wished a guy like Jake were available once in a while, but, in her experience, they were always taken. It was impressive, however, to know what an excellent teacher he was. Good with children. She’d have to remember to add that to the List.

  “I have something to discuss with Randall. I’ll send someone right over to help Cammi off her horse.” Alfred started off. “Watch her for a moment, will you?”

  As the two men left, Marlo walked toward the fence to observe Cammi. She tried to imagine Jake as a handsome teenager teaching an impressionable young girl to ride. No wonder Sabrina was so possessive about Jake. She’d had him in her corner her entire life.

  At least she hadn’t made a total fool of herself to Jake before she woke up to the situation, Marlo thought. That was the saving grace. She’d avoided public humiliation. All her torment was private. Only Lucy had an inkling of her feelings. Stoically, Marlo forced a smile to her face and waved at Cammi.

  She didn’t sense that Jake was behind her until he cleared his throat and stepped up to the fence, his shoulder lightly brushing hers. Jake’s presence made her emotions turn traitorous, making her feel things she didn’t want to feel.

  “She’s a good little rider, isn’t she?”

  “Amazing, even to an inexperienced eye like mine. You did a good job.”

  “Did Alfred tell you that I gave her lessons?”

  “He said you taught Sabrina, too.”

  Jake didn’t take the bait. “I want to teach you, too. You’re gentle, patient and firm. I believe you’ll have a light touch on the reins, too. What do you think?”

  It was a heady idea, considering that Jake chose to teach only the most special of females. Heroically, she resisted the urge.

  “I’d better keep my feet on the ground for now. I have a new project around here that will take all my time.”

  “New project? One I haven’t heard about?”

  “Actually, it just came up today, in the past hour.” She wished he wasn’t so enticing. Even his cologne was yummy. Smells good. Check. “Your father and I discussed it and he asked me to set it up.”

  Jake’s eyebrows nearly buried themselves in his hairline. “My father? Since when did he become interested in helping me with this?”

  “He was upset. There were children, mostly bored siblings of the riders, running in the yard, making noise and getting in the way. I turned on a television, but it loses some of its appeal on a beautiful day like this one.”

  “I should have known—a self-serving idea. He really hates chaos.” Jake sighed. “Spill the beans, what is Dad up to?” He didn’t sound as if he expected it to be good.

  “I suggested he provide a couple of young horses for the extra children to groom. That way they will be busy and involved with animals, too. My idea was to call it My Own Pony. He liked it, that’s all.” She grimaced. “And he said that since I was already a volunteer, I might as well volunteer to set it up.”

  Jake burst out laughing, a delighted and delightful sound. “It’s a great idea, Marlo. I wish I’d thought of it myself. My father obviously jumped on it because he realized that you were onto something.” He put one foot on the bottom rail of the fence, tipped back the cowboy hat that Marlo had seen him wear occasionally and stared out at the rolling pasture. “I can see it now. My Own Pony. Excellent, really excellent.”

  He gave her a smile that could have melted sand into glass. “You are very clever, Marlo.”

  She felt like clamping her hands over her head to keep him from tampering any more with her brain. Jake was dangerous. He could read the phone book aloud to her and still sound like he was flirting.

  “All around Jill-of-all-trades, cook, babysitter, pony person, that’s me,” she said, keeping her tone light.

  Before he could respond, Cammi yelled out, “Can you see me ride, Jake? Feather and I are good, aren’t we?” She and Feather were doing large circles in the paddock.

  “The best, sweetheart. Do you want to get off now? Your grandfather sent me to get you.”

  “Not yet. This is fun!” The pair moved around the ring almost as one entity.

  It was quite lovely to behold, Marlo thought. “That’s an amazing horse. It’s almost as if it reads Cammi’s mind.”

  “Alfred wouldn’t put Cammi on anything but the best. Feather is as well trained as they come.”

  “Cammi is hard not to love—unless she’s in her pouty-princess routine.”

  Jake smiled. “She’s just imitating her aunt, when Sabrina is on her high horse about something. Nothing we—I—can’t handle.”

  Obviously. Marlo stared straight ahead, afraid to look at him, fearful that he could read in her eyes what was happening to her heart.

  Then Feather’s easy gait faltered. She came to a stop and remained so still that she might have been carved from stone. And as they watched in horror, Cammi drooped forward over the pommel of her English saddle and slumped against the horse’s neck. As if in slow motion, she slid sideways, a tangle of arms and legs, and tumbled awkwardly to the ground. Feather, feet planted firmly, didn’t flinch or shy away.

  “Wha…” Jake swung his leg over the fence and hit the ground running. He was already to Cammi before Marlo could take in what had happened. Large and broad-shouldered, he loomed over the tiny heap on the ground. He turned back and yelled, “Call 911 and get Alfred!”

  Marlo dug in her pocket for her cell phone and dialed. Almost as if she’d willed them to appear, Alfred and Randall strolled out of the big house and started walking toward the barn.

  “Alfred!” she screamed.

  Something in her tone must have sounded an alarm in Alfred’s mind, because he broke into a run. He was breathing hard by the time he reached Marlo. “What’s wrong?”

  She pointed to the spot where Feather stood and Jake bent over the prone form of Cammi. “She just crumpled in the saddle. Feather sensed something was wrong and came to a stop. Then she slid off the horse and onto the ground.”

  “No…Cammi…” Alfred’s voice broke and he scrambled over the fence almost as quickly as Jake had.

  By this time Randall had caught up. “What’s going on?” he demanded.

  “I don’t know.” Marlo’s heart was in her throat as she watched Jake stroke the little girl’s hair as she lay on the ground. “It looked like Cammi fainted midride. The horse stopped and hasn’t moved since.”

  She was surprised that neither of the men made an effort to pick Cammi up until she realized that moving her could do more harm than good. These men had obviously seen far more falls from horses than she, and knew what to do, she told herself. The pounding of her heart hammered in her ears as she waited helplessly for something to happen.

  “A horse stepping on her could have snapped a bone in half,” Randall muttered grimly. “If anything happens to that child it will kill Alfred. You’re sure the horse didn’t act up?”

  “Positive. In fact, it seemed to sense that Cammi was in trouble.” She described how Feather had behaved, as best she could. The answer seemed to please Randall.

  Already, Marlo could hear a faint siren wailing in the distance. Not only that,
the mothers and children in the yard were beginning to walk with the therapy volunteers toward the commotion. Without thinking further, Marlo ran toward them to wave the casual spectators away from the scene. It wouldn’t help the hippotherapy program if the participants saw a child on the ground. Even if it wasn’t the horse’s fault, the broken body of a tiny girl on the hard-packed dirt was an image they wouldn’t forget.

  Marlo held them at bay until Jake strode up behind her.

  “Get in the car,” he ordered Marlo, as the EMTs loaded the stretcher and tiny prone figure into the ambulance. “Alfred and Dad are riding with Cammi. We’ll follow.”

  Marlo scrambled into the plush leather interior of the SUV and buckled her seat belt. The grim set of Jake’s jaw told her that whatever had happened was serious.

  “Is she going to be okay?” Marlo ventured.

  “I don’t know,” he said frankly. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it.” He looked at her, his dark eyes intense. “Time to start praying, Marlo.”

  She put her hand over his. “I’ve already started.”

  By the time they reached the hospital and parked Jake’s car, Randall was already in the E.R. waiting room, pacing.

  “How is she?” Jake asked.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t heard a thing.” He furrowed his eyebrows and stared at Marlo. “You’re sure this wasn’t Feather’s fault?”

  “Positive.” Marlo reiterated what she had seen.

  When she was done and Jake had concurred, Randall’s shoulders sagged in relief. “I was the one who helped Alfred choose Feather for Cammi. I’d never forgive myself if something had gone wrong with the horse and it had dumped her.”

  “It wasn’t like that at all, sir.” A memory flickered in Marlo’s mind. “Did Cammi tell you that she couldn’t ride Feather the past couple days because she wasn’t feeling well? She told me she’d had a headache and was throwing up. Maybe this episode happened because she was weak or not fully recovered.”

  What if the horse hadn’t been so well trained? What if Cammi had landed roughly? What if she hadn’t been wearing a helmet? Marlo shivered at the thoughts. Jake, seeing her tremble, led her to some uncomfortable plastic chairs and made her sit down. Then he sat beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. It was her life raft in a chaotic sea. Eventually the quaking subsided, and Marlo, drained by tension, allowed her head to rest against his shoulder. Comfort. Consolation. Jake.

  Marlo closed her eyes and leaned into the strength and steadiness Jake radiated. She opened them again when Alfred, looking exhausted and years older than he had at the ranch, entered the waiting room.

  “Cammi has had a stroke,” Alfred said, his voice filled with disbelief. “How can a child have a stroke? That’s for the elderly, like me. Why couldn’t it have been me?”

  Randall paled beneath his tan and sat down hard.

  “They’ve got to be wrong,” Alfred continued in a flat voice. “Don’t they?”

  At that moment a woman in a white jacket walked into the room and studied the foursome.

  “Cammi’s family?” she inquired. Both Randall and Alfred nodded.

  “My name is Dr. Erica Jacobs.” She looked at her clipboard. “Have Cammi’s parents been notified that she’s in the hospital?”

  “Most of my family members are out of town for a wedding,” Alfred said. “I’ve tried to reach them, but they have no doubt turned off their cell phones during the ceremony. Cammi’s mother will call later tonight, I’m sure.”

  “Very well. As you heard in the E.R., Mr. Dorchester, Cammi has suffered a stroke. That’s unusual in children, and happens to only about two to six in one hundred thousand. There are multiple causes, but we’ve ruled out infection and trauma. Other things we’ll look for are congenital or acquired heart disease. It may be related to a heart condition that’s gone undetected until now. That’s a common cause. It’s unlikely that it’s an intracranial tumor….”

  Alfred groaned and put his head into his hands.

  The doctor gave the little group a compassionate look. “The news is actually quite good. There are no seizures or eye-movement problems. Children often recover better than adults. Perhaps that is because of the immaturity of the brain. It has the ability to repair itself and to adapt. The other good news is that you got her to the hospital right away, so we could begin applying neuroprotective measures.”

  “She told me she’d had a headache the past couple days,” Marlo blurted into the stunned silence that ensued.

  The doctor nodded. “That makes sense. A headache is often an early sign of stroke. She has weakness on one side of her body and a slight slurring of words. We’ll keep her in the hospital and then in rehabilitation as long as we need to. She’s in good hands.” The doctor smiled sympathetically. “I know this has been a shock, but let’s wait a bit before we jump to any conclusions. I’m very optimistic about her prognosis.”

  After the doctor left, Alfred murmured, “‘Weakness?’ What if it doesn’t go away? What if she’s paralyzed?”

  “Don’t go there, Alfred,” Randall said sharply. He stood and took charge.

  “Come. We’ll find which room she’ll be in.”

  When they were gone, Jake expelled a long breath. “Poor kid. I hope she’s okay.” Then he added grimly, “Dad doesn’t know it yet, but before this is done he may be very happy that Hammond Stables is in the horse-therapy business.”

  He reached for Marlo and she stepped into his arms for comfort, knowing that Jake’s pain was much worse than her own. He’d known the little girl her entire life. Marlo had only loved her for a little while. They stayed that way a long time, Marlo’s head against his chest, listening to his strong and steady heartbeat. She felt as if she’d come home.

  “I suppose I should take you back to Hammond Stables to get your car,” Jake said reluctantly.

  “It’s okay. Not yet. I’m sure I’d just pace the floor at home.”

  “Want to get some coffee? There’s a coffee shop a couple blocks from here,” Jake suggested.

  “Sure.”

  The coffee shop was empty, except for a businessman whose nose was buried deep in a newspaper. They took a booth in the far corner from the cash register after Jake bought two oversize muffins brimming with nuts and coconut and two mugs of the darkest, richest brew.

  Wordlessly, they ate the muffins and then sat silently staring deep into the bottoms of their mugs.

  After a few minutes of complete silence, out of the blue, Jake inquired, “How did you like the play?”

  “Huh? Oh, fine, I guess.” Marlo could hardly remember what he was asking about. Cammi’s situation made today feel like a transition into a whole new century.

  “Nice-looking guy you were with,” Jake said casually.

  Was he making polite conversation or did he actually care? Marlo decided it was less embarrassing to play along than to explain about her cousin and about Bryan’s gentlemanly instinct to protect her from a man he perceived to be a lothario. “Yes. He is.”

  “Known him long?”

  “Years. We went to school together.” She’d been the one to introduce Bryan to her cousin Kelly, in fact.

  “Have you seen many plays together?” Jake just wouldn’t let it go.

  “That was the first actually.” Restlessly, she turned the mug between the palms of her hands

  “What do you do when you’re together, if you don’t mind my asking? Sports? Movies?”

  His piercing look made Marlo feel as if she was being run through a CAT scan.

  “We hang out at my cousin’s house mostly.”

  “Watching movies?”

  “Croquet, actually.” She grinned at the puzzled expression on his face. “I swing a pretty mean mallet.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  The man almost sounded wistful, Marlo realized, or…could it be? Jealous? Surely not. What was there to be jealous about? Then it struck her. It was about Bryan! All that questioning made Jake sound j
ealous of Bryan.

  Marlo didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. All she did know is that she needed to finally find out the truth about him and Sabrina.

  “Jake, exactly what is your relationship with—” She was about to say “Sabrina” when his cell phone rang, “The William Tell Overture,” of all things.

  He fished into his pocket to find it. “Jake, here. Oh, hi, Nick, what’s up?” He listened intently for a long moment. “The vet is on the way? Good. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  When he looked back at her he was frowning. “We have a horse down, one of our stallions. I need to get back to the stables ASAP.”

  “Let’s go. I’ll pick up my car there and go home.”

  He nodded absently, his mind already a million miles away from the conversation she’d begun. Another time, perhaps, they could finish what she’d started, but Marlo had a hunch it wouldn’t be in the near future.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Gently, very gently. That’s right. You don’t like to have your hair combed the wrong way, do you? Neither does Frankie.” The child standing between Marlo and the rotund belly of a little paint giggled. She and a little boy almost as chunky as the pony in question were in the round pen, finishing up the last of Frankie’s many grooming sessions for the day. All morning, children had clamored to brush the ponies Hammond Stables provided for the My Own Pony crowd.

  Jake, who’d been observing, leaned heavily on the top rail of a nearby fence and stared across the rolling pastures to the horizon beyond. His riding boot was wedged between the fence rails, and his neat Stetson was tilted back on his thick, dark hair. Fall was in the air and the trees were modeling their flashiest colors, reds, oranges and yellows.

  “Hey.” She wandered toward him.

  “Hey, yourself.” He turned to look at her and smiled faintly. She hadn’t seen much of him lately, since he’d been, as he put it, “Putting out fires on all fronts”—the stables, the architectural firm and the absence of his father from the business. Randall was spending a lot of time with Alfred these days, who was at the hospital with Cammi. “The kids and their mothers love My Own Pony. It was a stroke of genius, Marlo.”