Strawberry Hill

by Catherine Anderson

  Eating up the distance between her and the horse, her traitorous feet carried her to the back corner of the building. Erin stopped, took a deep breath, and executed the turn, half expecting the horse to be right there, almost on top of her. She was so scared her knees quivered. In her mind, her father’s voice mocked her for being a coward. It’s only a stupid horse. Use the brains God gave you. No daughter of mine can be such a coward. Anger welled within Erin. No, not anger, she realized. Instead she felt frustrated. Never quite good enough. She’d been trying all her life to make the grade. Fighting to be what she never could be to earn her father’s approval. The need was always there within her. There when she woke up of a morning and punished her body doing perfect planks, not ten, not twenty, but a hundred times—until her muscles screamed to quit and her arms would no longer hold her up. Why did she do that to herself when all she really wanted was to be happy in her own skin?

  I don’t even carry a stupid purse. The thought ricocheted into her mind and bounced around like the singsong voice of a first grade bully on a playground. As irrational as Erin knew it was, her brain got stuck on that, and suddenly it felt as if everything that was wrong with her life centered on the fact that she had never owned a handbag. And if she died today, she never would. That couldn’t happen. Before she cashed in her chips, she wanted to buy herself a handbag. A great big handbag. Huge. One that she could stuff full of all the crap women carried. A brush. Tampons. Ibuprofen tablets. Band-Aids. Hard candy. Chewing gum. Cosmetics. A wallet filled with photos of people she loved. And, damn it, she would carry it while she was in uniform! Why not? She was a woman, after all, and she knew not a single adult female who went anywhere without taking her purse.

  The horse stood about a hundred yards away from her, and judging by its agitation, it also saw her. Erin tried to swallow spit she didn’t have in her mouth. Her throat, as dry as parchment paper, felt as if its walls touched and stuck together. She stood still. Stared. Espresso. She could see where the animal had gotten its name. Despite the saddle on his back, he glimmered in the September sunlight, his coat as dark as a cup of Julie’s triple-shot coffee. And he was beautiful, muscles bunching in his shoulders and haunches, a magnificent play of raw power.

  Erin forced herself to move forward. Don’t be a coward, her father’s voice taunted. Just walk out there. Use your brains. Outsmart him. Only how could she use her intellect to maneuver an animal who could run at any given moment? Possibly straight at her? Would she be able to dive out of the way fast enough? And if she executed a roll over the ground, might he not turn on her before she could regain her feet? It occurred to her in that moment that she didn’t belong in this place. That she’d never belonged anywhere, not even in Washington. She shouldn’t even be a law enforcement officer. Instead of following her heart into a career of speech therapy, she’d followed her father’s heart and chased his dreams. He’d yearned for a son, a chip off the old block, and she’d spent her whole life trying to be something she wasn’t.

  Erin stopped walking. At the edges of her mind, she knew it was insane to have the most revealing epiphany of her life when she faced a dangerous animal. But for the very first time, she felt the words that Jonas Sterling repeated to her at every counseling session. You are who you are. You’ve tried pleasing your father, but look where that’s taken you. Can you see how you’ve been trapped by someone else’s expectations for you? Rationally, Erin had always understood what Jonas tried to convey to her. But until now, this very moment, she had never been able to internalize the concepts. She wanted to announce to the world that she was a woman with all the wants and needs all women had.

  As she forced herself to take another step toward the horse, Erin made a vow to herself. If she survived this, she would go shopping this afternoon. She’d buy sexy underthings and perfume. Maybe she’d even get her ears pierced so she could start wearing matched sets of jewelry. And she would find a purse, not just any purse, but the purse. She’d even carry it into the department. If the male deputies made fun of her, she wouldn’t allow that to upset her. From now on, she was living her life according to her own terms.

  When Erin took another step, the horse reared up on his hind legs and thrashed the air with his front feet. His scream, laced with panic, sent trills of fear coursing through her body, and she knew she’d be a dead woman if she went any closer.

  She knotted her hands into fists at her sides, pivoted on one heel, and walked away from the horse. Her father’s voice went off in her head again, but she refused to listen. Instead, she focused on basic facts. She was not a horseman. Correction, not a horsewoman. It wouldn’t be fair if she pressed forward. Not fair to her, and definitely not fair to the horse. He needed someone who understood him. Someone who knew how to approach him in a nonthreatening way. Someone whose posture conveyed no harmful intent. She wasn’t that someone, and for once in her misbegotten life, she wouldn’t try to be something she wasn’t.

  She saw surprise etched upon the faces of people in the crowd, which appeared to have doubled in number. Erin strode toward them, strode being the telling word, because she didn’t know how to walk in a way that emphasized her femininity. But she was determined to change that. Shackles, Julie had said. And in a very real way, all of Erin’s learned behaviors were just that, ironlike restraints that had held her captive far too long.

  “Sorry, everyone,” she called out as she drew close enough to the onlookers for her voice to be heard. “I don’t have quite enough experience with horses to deal with that fellow. He’s very upset.”

  The nurse said, “Those fool boys made a bad situation worse by swinging ropes at him. Kids see stuff on TV. Using a rope as a whip looks really cool unless you’re the horse at the wrong end of the swing.”

  Erin moved toward the older man who still sat on the ramp. “Espresso is a gorgeous animal, sir. I didn’t want to push him into going berserk.”

  The man, still holding the ice pack to his temple, gave her a grateful look. “Until he blew up on this ramp, I’ve never seen him go berserk. He’s a fabulous horse. I appreciate you giving him some space. Pretty soon, maybe I can go get him. Until then, we’d better just leave him alone.”

  Erin wasn’t certain in which part of the fairgrounds the quilt show was being held, but she thought of the people attending it and hoped their paths wouldn’t lead them near the gelding. Unfortunately, hoping for the best was all she could do. She considered calling her uncle Slade, but he’d told her the previous day that he’d be heading up the mountain to base camp this afternoon. Even if she got lucky and he answered his cell, he might be too far away to help with this situation.

  “Excuse me for a moment.” Erin loped toward the county truck to call the department on the in-cab radio where people wouldn’t overhear the conversation. Once she climbed inside and closed the door, she spoke into the microphone. “Adam eleven,” she said to clarify her identity. Then, remembering that Noreen refused to use code, she added, “This is Deputy De Laney. Do you copy? Break.”

  Noreen came over the air. “You catch the horse?”

  Erin closed her eyes. “No, Noreen. I’m not experienced with horses. I’m not the ma—woman for the job, and it would make the situation more dangerous for me to attempt something I’m unqualified to do. The horse’s life could hang in the balance, not to mention my own. You should have called every deputy we have on the force to find someone who is qualified, which I will bring up at the next staff meeting. But for now, we’ll focus on Jack Palmer. I hope you at least called him. Break.”

  “Break, break, break-break-break-break-break! You drive me nuts saying that. And who are you to tell me how to do my job?”

  “Someone needs to,” Erin shot back. “It’s your duty to do everything within your power to protect all officers in the field. Did you call the vet? Break.”

  “Yes. Had to call his cell. He was delivering a calf. Coming breech. He said he couldn’t lea
ve until that was over.”

  Erin wanted to groan. “All right. So who else have you contacted? I need help out here! Break.”

  “I haven’t called anyone,” Noreen replied. “You are on duty. You are the only deputy in the vicinity. You are the only person I’m obligated to call. If you can’t do your job, that isn’t my problem.” She hesitated an instant and then said, in a loud, obnoxious voice, “Break!”

  Erin was glad not to be in the same room with Noreen. She feared that she might lose her temper and lash out at her. “So your take on your job is to do only what you’re obligated to do? It’s not your problem if I get hurt trying? Not your job to worry, right? You have better things to do, like chew bubble gum and make obnoxious noises with it while talking on the radio. Break.”

  “You’d like to see me lose my job, wouldn’t you?”

  Erin wondered how many civilians with police scanners were listening to this conversation, and suddenly she didn’t care. “I’d even help you out the door. But the truth is, Noreen, you don’t need anyone’s help to lose that job. You’re heading that way all by yourself. Break.”

  “Or so you hope! Ever since you came here, you’ve been on my back. Memorize the codes, Noreen. Don’t chew gum at work, Noreen. Don’t talk about anything but department business over the radio, Noreen. Do you think I don’t know that you’ve complained about me to anyone who’d listen, even to the sheriff, who has the power to fire me at a moment’s notice?”

  Erin had complained about this woman to only Julie, who had nothing to do with department politics and wouldn’t interfere even if she did. Julie was a live-and-let-live person and embraced the philosophy that all individuals eventually got what they asked for. In other words, Noreen would get what was coming to her. If she worked hard, good things would come. If not, bad things would rain on her head. Nobody else could make choices for her or direct her along another path. Erin had been foolish to try.

  “I haven’t spoken to Sheriff Adams,” she confessed out loud. But she would do so at first opportunity. If she lost her own job, so be it. She didn’t want another deputy to be abandoned in the field by this woman. “I haven’t complained to anyone. Yet. Break.”

  “But now you will. That’s the threat, isn’t it? I didn’t call the boss and risk pissing him off, so now you’re going to make me pay.”

  Erin heard a vehicle pull through the front gates and looked into the rearview mirror to see a red pickup parking behind her. When the driver door opened, she saw CARING HANDS painted in white on the panel over a pink heart with paw prints dotting its center. Jack Palmer. The cavalry had arrived.

  “The vet’s here,” she told Noreen. “I have to go. Break.”

  “Oh, good. The poor little deputy who’s scared to do her job has a big, strong man to do it for her.”

  Erin refused to key the mike and respond to that. For once in her life, she didn’t care what people thought. She felt like a poor little deputy who was afraid to do her job. She wasn’t qualified to deal with this situation. Her training had not touched upon dealing with horses, cows, goats, or any other animal with hooves.

  “Hey!” Jack Palmer called when Erin exited the county truck. “Sorry it took so long. Breech birth. I had to stay or lose both the cow and calf.”

  “I understand.” Erin swallowed, hard. What she had to say next wouldn’t come easily. “I’ve never been around horses, Jack. Well, I’ve been around them, but not enough. I’m pretty much useless in a situation like this, and to be honest, that horse scares the shit out of me.”

  Jack let loose with a from-the-gut laugh. “I understand. Horses make me just a little nervous, too. And that’s before I’m standing by one.”

  Erin hoped her bewilderment didn’t show on her face. “But you’re a vet.”

  His gray eyes dancing with mischief, he winked at her. “And you’re a deputy. You should be able to handle anything that comes your way. Right? So, here we stand, two buffoons who have a healthy respect for horses. I suppose I have a leg up on you. My coursework in veterinary medicine did cover equine care, and I doubt your training did—unless you planned to be a mounted cop.”

  The tension eased from Erin’s shoulders. “Nope. The only thing I ever imagined I might have to ride was a motorcycle. Give ’em gas and oil, and they’re ready to roll. Any accidents from that point forward are due to operator error.”

  Jack came to stand abreast of her. He was tall—not extraordinarily so, for a man—but he loomed over Erin. Only she felt no desire to straighten her spine and lift her chin. She didn’t have to measure up. She was what she was, a female deputy whose gender made her shorter than most of the adult males around her.

  “Well, this operator knows his limitations. Upset horses are like kegs of dynamite. A smart man doesn’t shake them up.”

  “So what’s our plan? Did you bring a dart gun to sedate him? I didn’t go too close. He was in no mood for company. But he gave me the distinct impression that he’s spoiling for a fight.”

  “Which he would win.” Jack smiled down at her. He was an attractive guy, slim yet muscular, with light brown hair cut short, attractive features, and teeth white enough for a toothpaste commercial. “I left the dart gun at home. I tried using it once on a bull that went nuts.”

  “Did it work?”

  “No. I missed.”

  Erin wondered if she’d misunderstood him, but when she searched his face, she saw self-derision in his expression.

  “Lousy with horses, lousy with guns,” he added. “And I don’t really have a plan.”

  “Dear God. We’re in trouble, then, because I don’t have one, either. Do horses sleep? Maybe we can wait for Espresso to nod off and sneak up on him.”

  Jack guffawed. “I had a better idea. I called a friend who just happens to be amazing with horses. And, as luck would have it, he was in town. He should be here any second.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “You probably don’t know him. He doesn’t go to town much. A little on the quiet side.”

  Scanning the faces in the crowd, Erin saw proof many times over that she didn’t know all the locals yet. As small as Mystic Creek seemed, the community didn’t end at the city limits. The populace spilled over the surrounding countryside. If she stood on a street corner every day for the next year, she still wouldn’t meet every citizen who hailed from Mystic Creek.

  “How good is he with frightened horses?”

  “Better than I am with a dart gun.”

  She laughed. “Can I comfort myself with the thought that you brought what you need to sedate the horse?”

  “Everything but courage. I left that with the dart gun.”

  Erin rarely followed one laugh with another, but she did now. “I forgot to bring mine, too. Courage is overrated, anyway. It leads people to do stupid stuff that they shouldn’t.”

  “Amen.”

  Jack struck off through the crowd. Erin followed him to where the older man still sat on the edge of the loading ramp. “You okay, Ralph?” Jack asked.

  “I will be. Hit my noggin pretty hard. Feeling swimmy headed.”

  “Could be you rattled what’s left of your brains,” Jack ventured. “Concussions are nothing to ignore. Maybe you should go to urgent care.”

  “Urgent care, my ass,” Ralph popped back. “Not until I’m sure Espresso is safe, and if you’re the only cavalry sent to his rescue, it’ll be a while.”

  Jack nodded. “Nobody can be good at everything. I’m great at doctoring horses, but I suck at handling them.”

  Attending the exchange, Erin couldn’t help but admire Jack Palmer’s easy acceptance of his own shortcomings. She needed to tear a page out of his book and cultivate that ability in regards to her own inadequacies.

  “You call that horse-whispering guy?” Ralph asked.

  “Yep.” Jack shoved his hands into his
pockets. “Don’t worry. I’ll get my bag when he gets here. Once he has Espresso under control, I’ll be there with a sedative if it’s needed.”

  Just then Erin heard another vehicle pull in. She turned to see a late-model silver Dodge Ram with a full cab and a long bed park behind Jack’s truck. A moment later as the clearance lights blinked out, Wyatt Fitzgerald swung out of the vehicle. Erin was startled to see him. She knew her uncle would be heading up the mountain to base camp that afternoon, and she had assumed that Wyatt would go with him. Only, now, here he was, and she had to think fast on how to best handle saying hello to him. They hadn’t parted company on the best of terms. He’d been eager to get away from her, and she’d been wholeheartedly relieved to see him leave.

  “Jack,” he said as he cleared the throng of people gathered around the trailer. He spoke with that same thoughtful slowness that she remembered, and he didn’t glance her way. “Sorry I took so long. I was shopping for supplies. That’s usually the cook’s job, but since we don’t yet have a cook here, I got railroaded. Took all the frozen goods back into Flagg’s and asked them to keep them in a freezer for me.”

  Jack extended his right hand and the two men shook. Then, and only then, did Wyatt turn his gaze on Erin. “Deputy De Laney. Good to see you.” His eyes were the same incredible blue that she remembered. His sharply carved countenance was just as handsome. But it was his air of confidence that set him apart from other men in her estimation. He seemed so self-sufficient and completely comfortable in his own skin. She envied him that. “I’m sorry about the cheek. I’m guessing that the eye looks even worse.”