Turn and Burn

by Lorelei James

  Tanna didn’t immediately jump out of her truck after she pulled up to Eli Whirling Cloud’s place. In fact, she sat inside the cab for several long minutes. Even after she saw Eli leaning against the corral by the barn door, drinking from an insulated coffee mug. Watching her.

  Judging her?

  No. That much she was sure of.

  Eli never moved toward her. Never beckoned her over. He merely waited for her to make a decision.

  Jesus. Get out of the fucking truck, Tanna.

  So she did. Ambling toward him, she wondered if he could see how fast and hard her pulse jumped in her throat. How hard her hands shook. “Good mornin’.”

  He smiled and it struck her how welcoming that smile was. “Looks to be a beautiful day.”

  “That it does.” Cut to the chase. “So, whatcha got planned for me?”

  Eli wandered over to where she stood by the fence. “Do you want to get on a horse today, Tanna?”

  She shook her head.

  “That’s good. Because you ain’t ready to ride. We’re doin’ this a different way because it ain’t a one-day fix.”

  She folded her arms over her chest. “Regardless if I ride your horses or don’t ride I can’t pay you for your time.” Damn, did that hurt to admit. “And you’d better tell me right now if Celia and Kyle, or Lainie and Hank are footing the bill for this.”

  Amusement danced in his eyes. “Don’t wanna be beholden to anyone? Believe me, I get that. But you’re wrong in thinking the only thing that has value in life is cash. Experience counts a lot more in my book. And you’ve got that in spades.”

  “So you’ll need my help at some point in exchange for yours now?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’m good with that. Any other people you’re working with?” She stopped at adding, “other broken people like me.”

  “A couple folks in the late afternoon, teaching them to break colts. Got a bulldogger that trains here some mornings if he ain’t off rodeoin’. Teaching riding and other stuff. The rest of the time we’re exercising the horses boarded here. So I thought we could take the ATVs out so you can get an idea of the terrain. I’m betting it’s nothin’ like what you’re used to in Texas.”

  Tanna’s gaze swept the vista. The hilly land was strewn with rocks. Chunks of shale rose out of nowhere. Scrub cedar and sage abounded. The area did remind her of home—until she caught a glimpse of mountains in the distance. “Some similarities.”

  “Did you have a good week?”

  “Didn’t do much besides working and drinking.”

  “What about Fletch?”

  She tried not to get defensive, but her voice had an edge when she asked, “What about him?”

  “Didja see him?”

  “We had coffee Sunday night.”

  “And?”

  And he kissed the shit out of me. “And it was . . . nice.”

  He chuckled. “I saw the sparks flyin’ between you two at the branding, so nice ain’t a word that really applies, is it? You plan on spending time with him while you’re in the area?”

  Why was Eli being so pushy? “He’s really busy in his practice during the week.”

  “True. But he’d make time for you if you asked.”

  Putting herself out there any more than she already had might give Fletch the wrong idea.

  Or the right idea.

  Or cement the idea that she wanted him as much as he wanted her and she oughta quit lying to herself about it.

  Eli pushed off the fence. “I won’t badger you. Let’s enjoy this morning before the sun tries to fry our heads, eh?”

  Tanna chose an older model ATV and was relieved when Eli didn’t drive a million miles an hour. He made an effort to point out things of interest as well as some of the more challenging trails.

  They spent a couple of hours traversing the land. Part of Eli’s acreage bordered federal land home to wild horses. Eli handed her a pair of binoculars and she watched the animals grazing. Even from a distance they seemed more skittish than horses she’d been around, ready to bolt at the first sign of danger.

  “How long have you been doin’ this?” she asked. He had mentioned that he received money from the Bureau of Land Management to care for the wild horses—as much as one could care for creatures that had always run free.

  “Eight years. I know what equestrians say about these wild ones as compared to horses that are bred for their breed expectations and limitations. But these beauties . . . there’s no greater feeling than breaking one but keeping a part of that wild spirit.”

  “I take it you’re not sending me out there to round them up as some sort of initiation into the Wild West?”

  “Nope. But let’s head back.”

  Driving the ridge, something tightened inside her. She had such an overwhelming sense of loss. She felt burdened by the weight of her loss and the sense of futility, even though it was nothing new. It had been happening off and on since her mother’s death. Never regularly, always at the oddest moments.

  Suck it up. This is your life now. Be grateful for what you’ve got.

  By the time they reached the barn, Tanna swore if Eli asked about her blotchy face and red-rimmed eyes, she’d blame any tears on Wyoming dust and wind.

  But Eli didn’t say a word. He grabbed a bucket and dumped a few oats in. “Come on. Let’s mingle.” He started for the horse pasture, leaving Tanna no choice but to follow him.

  And sure enough, as soon as the horses noticed Eli held the bucket, they trotted over. All twelve of them.

  Her heart was in her throat when they were surrounded. She nearly passed out from fear when a big gray mare bumped into her with those muscled shoulders. Then the horse immediately tried to crowd her into the fence.

  Tanna balked. She started to duck and move. But the mare pinned her in place.

  “Aggie. Behave.” Eli’s soft command forced the horse to freeze. “Tanna. You need to get your head on, girl, and remember who’s in charge.”

  “Right.” Tanna backed into Aggie’s left side and kept the bucket of oats low.

  But the horse kept pushing and crowding. Tanna dropped the bucket and scrambled away so fast she fell on her knees in the dirt—causing a sharp pain in her knee. Then she was on her feet, running, not caring how foolish she looked. She just needed to find a place where she could breathe without fear.

  Tanna didn’t stop running until she cleared the gate and had trekked halfway up a small rise. She noticed a crude bench, crafted from old logs and balanced on two flat rocks. She sat on it and pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her shins. That’s when the tears fell. Not the silent type that she’d cried on the ATV. But huge, gasping sobs.

  She’d never ever been afraid of horses. And that’s how she reacted the first time she’d gotten close to one in nine months? A panic attack that’d forced her to flee and left her fucking bawling like some big goddamn greenhorn baby?

  You’re pathetic. Give it up. If you can’t even touch a horse how will you ever be able to ride one again? Say nothing of competing on a national level?

  Those reminders got louder and louder until she wanted to scream to drown them out.

  Instead she curled up tighter, cried harder and wondered why she even bothered coming here. To Wyoming. To Eli’s. She should just go back to Texas where she belonged and . . . do what? She had nothing there either.

  After a while, cried out, tired of self-flagellation, she lifted her face to the sky, not knowing how long she’d stayed immersed in her own misery.

  A noise echoed to her and she turned, expecting to see Eli. But an Indian woman of indeterminate age—she could’ve been nineteen or thirty-nine—rested her backside against an old pine tree stump.

  At first Tanna thought she might be an apparition, since she held such a stoic demeanor. But then she offered Tanna a tremulous smile.

  “I know how you feel,” she said softly. “I have more fears than are healthy. Hiding them doesn’t help. Sharing t
hem doesn’t help. Ignoring them doesn’t help. Sobbing about them doesn’t help.” She paused. “Maybe this will sound horrible, but I was glad to see you break down.”

  “Because you get off on seeing other people suffer?” Tanna asked sharply.

  “No. Because it proves to me that I’m not alone in dealing with a fear that can be overwhelming. But it also shows me that you’re brave enough to face it.” She paused. “So, are you crying because Eli couldn’t help you?”

  “Maybe I’m crying because it’s obvious I’m beyond anyone’s help.”

  She lifted a slim shoulder. “Today, perhaps. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try again tomorrow. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. It’s cumulative.”

  “What? The fear? Or the solution to it?”

  “Both.”

  Tanna had no logical response for that.

  Since the woman stared at Tanna so blatantly, she stared back. The woman’s coal black hair hung loose, almost to the waistband of her faded jeans. Her eyes were brown. Not golden, or chocolate, but basic brown. She had a prominent nose. Full lips—too full for her angular face. A regal neck. She was rail thin. From nervous energy? She threw off that vibe. She also wore a dingy T-shirt at least three sizes too big. But with the shirtsleeves hacked off, Tanna could see her arms were corded with muscle. She could also see the woman’s skin was marked with odd tattoos.

  She should be plain-looking. But something about her unadorned nature was striking. Compelling. Ethereal. Yet, as hard and rigid as the rocks surrounding them.

  The woman didn’t look away as Tanna scrutinized her.

  Then their eyes met. Tanna said, “I’m Tanna Barker.”

  “I know. I’m Summer Red Stone.”

  “I’m glad to meet you, Summer, mostly because you’re not a figment of my imagination so I can cross going insane off my list of mental defects.”

  Summer smiled. “I’ve been called a ghost on more than one occasion.”

  Cryptic. And a little creepy.

  “You wonder what I want,” Summer said.

  A statement, not a question. “Maybe. I heard your name at the branding so I’m guessing you’re involved with Eli?”

  “Not just involved, we’re intertwined.”

  There was the possessive tone. “Are you here to warn me off your man?”

  Summer didn’t smile or shake her head or laugh. She merely said, “No. You are a beautiful, damaged woman, Tanna. As much as that appeals to my Eli and his penchant for saving souls, well, I got here first. And he’s got his hands completely full saving mine.” Then she did smile. “But he can help you if you’ll let him.”

  “You sound so sure.”

  “I am. Be patient with yourself. Overcoming fear is one of the hardest things there is and it doesn’t have a set time frame.”

  Tanna stretched out from her protective little ball and sighed. “It’s been nine months—”

  “Since the fear started,” Summer inserted. “And it’s been one hour since you faced it. Permit yourself to fail. Forgive yourself for the failure. Each time you try it’ll get easier.”

  “Are you some wise medicine woman or something?” Tanna demanded.

  Summer laughed. “Not even close.”

  Eli strolled into view. Summer didn’t turn around to greet him. She waited, her body perfectly still, for him to come to her. Then Eli’s arms encircled her. He placed a soft kiss on her neck and a smile of pure serenity spread across her face as she closed her eyes.

  “You okay?” Eli asked Tanna.

  “No. But I had my first little freak-out session and I’m done with it. For today, anyway.”

  Summer opened her eyes. “I’ll leave you two to talk. Nice meeting you.”

  “You too.”

  Summer placed a kiss in the center of Eli’s palm and disentangled from his embrace. She didn’t turn around. She knew she had Eli’s undivided attention as she walked away.

  Tanna watched her disappear up the path and noticed Eli’s house for the first time. Hidden at the top of the rise and surrounded by trees, it’d been easy to miss. “I didn’t see your place. It’s well camouflaged.”

  “The wind blows a little in Wyoming, if you hadn’t noticed,” he said dryly, “and that spot offers the best protection from the elements.”

  “What did you build it out of?” It looked modern, and yet rustic.

  “From materials I scrounged. Which is why it’s a mishmash of logs, wood, rocks and metal. The roof joists are from an old building they tore down in Rawlins and didn’t cost nothin’.”

  “It’s really cool. How’d you come up with such a personal design for it?”

  He chuckled. “I didn’t. I revamped the traditional house I inherited, which had started to crumble but it had good bones. So I moved a trailer out here and worked on it whenever I had the time and cash. I’ve always lived simply, in small houses.”

  “This is a wonderful place.”

  “Thanks. It is. It feels like a home, now that Summer is here.” He glanced at the house and then back at her. “You wanna talk about what happened today?”

  Tanna shook her head. “I need time to think.”

  “I figured as much. Luckily, I’ve got stalls that need cleaning, and that’s as good a place as any to sort things out.”

  “I’m shoveling shit today?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  After thirty seconds or so, she shrugged. “Fits, given my mood.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Fletch’s phone rang and the caller ID read Eli’s home number. He answered with, “You’ve got great timing, cuz. I’m on the road.”

  “Hey, Fletch. It’s not Eli; it’s Summer.”

  The hair on the back of his neck stood up. “Summer, is Eli all right?”

  “Yeah. I’m calling about Tanna.”

  His stomach churned. “Did something happen to her?”

  “No. It’s just . . . she had a rough go of it this morning.”

  He’d called Tanna last night and she’d breezily reminded him she was riding the hobbyhorse with Eli today. He’d laughed because the woman had such a way with words. Now, it didn’t seem so funny. “What happened?”

  “That’s the thing. You need to ask her.”

  “How long ago did she leave?”

  “Four hours. I thought it’d be best to wait to call you until near the end of your workday.”

  “Eli knows you’re calling me?”

  “Of course.”

  “Thanks, Summer. Tell Eli thanks too.”

  Fletch glanced at the clock. Four thirty. Twenty minutes from the Split Rock. The procedure at the Ludlow Ranch wouldn’t take more than two hours, but he didn’t want to risk Tanna making other plans if he waited to contact her after he finished. He called her, hoping she’d pick up.

  “Hello?”

  “Tanna. It’s Fletch. What’re you doin’ right now?”

  “Burning tater tots in the oven and lamenting the sorry state of my cookin’ skills. Why?”

  “I’m on my way to pick you up. Be by your truck in twenty minutes.”

  “And if I say no?”

  He actually felt her bristle across the phone lines and bit back a chuckle. “You won’t. You secretly can’t wait to see me. And you’re dying to know the surprise I have for you.” He hung up.

  Thirty seconds passed before his phone rang. He answered, “This is Dr. Fletcher.”

  “What’s with this I have a surprise for you bullshit?” Tanna demanded.

  “You’ll see. Now you gonna let me pick you up? Or should I keep goin’ to my original destination all by myself?”

  “Fine. You can pick me up. But if I’m giving up hot tater tots, you’d better feed me after this surprise of yours.”

  Fletch grinned. This was working out better than he’d planned. “Deal, sugar twang.”

  “I’ll warn you I haven’t showered.”

  “Neither have I.”