GORDON WAS IN his room when Lisa and Kerry arrived home with Susie.
Kerry limped slightly but insisted she wasn’t hurt. Lisa gave her an ibuprofen and suggested she go to bed.
Then she knocked on Gordon’s door.
To her surprise, he opened it immediately. “Is Kerry all right?” he asked.
“Just shaken up a bit.”
“I didn’t mean to let the dog go,” he said. “It saw a squirrel and took off, jerking the leash out of my hand.” Then he hung his head and some of the defiance slipped away. “I should have held on tighter.”
“You went after her,” Lisa said. “I just wish you hadn’t disappeared afterward. You could have met Mr. Pierce.”
“Yeah, well, I felt in the way,” Gordon said.
She nodded. “Don’t forget you have an appointment tomorrow with the police chief. Nine a.m. I’m going to the clinic then. I’ll walk with you. It’s just across the street from the police station.”
“You don’t trust me,” he accused.
“Should I? I remember you promised me you wouldn’t meet with your so-called friends again in Chicago, then you tried to sneak out.”
He shrugged, but his gaze met hers. “I am sorry about today,” he said.
Dumbfounded, she stood there at the door. Then she nodded her acceptance of the apology before heading downstairs. That was the first positive reaction she’d heard from him since...it seemed like forever.
Maybe this was a good move, after all. Despite the great escape, Kerry was happy with Susie. She’d scolded the dog upon reaching their house, but it was probably meaningless, since she was kissing and hugging the dog at the same time.
Lisa counted the other good experiences. She had her first patient without a disaster. She’d met two interesting new friends in Stephanie and Eve.
She had also met a rather fine male specimen. She quickly erased that plus from her mental list. The last thing she needed in her life now was someone with as many scars on his body as Mr. Pierce had. She suspected from his gruff manner that not all of them were physical.
Besides, he wasn’t her type. Not that she really had a type. She’d been too busy for much more than coffee dates these past few years. She wanted to establish her career first, and she still had several years to go. And then there was her family. Who would want an almost fourteen-year-old girl and the sullen seventeen-year-old boy that came with her? It was definitely best to stay away from him completely, even in her thoughts.
A crash of thunder echoed outside, followed by lightning that lit the backyard. It broke off her mental meandering. She went to check on Kerry. Her sister was reading in bed with Susie snuggled next to her. Lisa thought about saying something about germs, but she resisted. The doctor part of her said it probably wasn’t a good idea. The sister part delighted in the first real look of pleasure she’d seen on Kerry’s face in months.
Lisa returned to the medical charts she was reviewing, but instead of seeing print on pages, she saw Jubal Pierce’s penetrating eyes as she bandaged some of his newest wounds. She suspected he’d been indulging her...
It was nearly midnight when she finished the last patient file. She checked again on Kerry. Still asleep. She picked up the dog, who protested with a small growl. Ignoring it, Lisa found the leash and took Susie out. It was raining, but it felt good to her. Cleansing. Susie quickly did her business, then headed back inside.
Lisa wiped the dog dry, then put her back in Kerry’s room where she promptly jumped up on the bed and cuddled next to Kerry.
Exhausted, she went to her bedroom. It certainly had been a busy and interesting day. She’d treated her first patient, obtained her first dog, her sister had survived a near-serious accident. And then there was Jubal Pierce...
She grabbed a novel and went into her bedroom. Hopefully that would divert her from this afternoon—and from the man named Jubal.
* * *
JUBAL ROSE AFTER a sleepless night. The rain had kept him inside and the room had kept closing in on him.
He went out to the porch. It was not quite dawn. The sky was clearing and the air was warm. He decided to take a swim. He pulled on a pair of trunks, jogged down to the dock and dived into the lake.
The fact that his left wrist hurt like hell slowed him down, but he made it across the lake and back. By then the rising sun showered golden streams of light across the water. It should have been hopeful but instead he felt a cold emptiness. Maybe it was lack of purpose or being an outsider. It had been a long time since he was part of a team.
Or maybe it was the young woman whose concerned eyes and gentle touches had awakened an aching need in him. That need was still in him hours later, although he knew it could go nowhere.
A world of experience divided them. She fought for life. He’d seen the worst men could do. As much as he told himself he was on the side of civilization, that he was one of good guys, he was haunted by too many dead and dying faces.
He should keep on schedule and leave tomorrow. The kid could manage without him. He waded to shore rather than lifting himself onto the dock. No sense in aggravating his wrist, even if the pain reminded him he was alive. He took a hot shower, hoping the rush of water would wash away unwanted memories and quiet a current need.
After showering, he applied ointment to his wounds and taped his wrist, then changed into an old T-shirt and sweatpants. After eating a breakfast of toast and cereal, he grabbed a bottle of water and headed out for his run.
He decided to expand it beyond the town. From his perch on the mountain yesterday, he’d noticed a road that appeared to only service outlying ranches and farms. He judged the first ranch to be about five, maybe six miles from the cabin. An easy run for him.
The sky was clear after last night’s storm, the air fresh. He turned right at the community center, passed a school, then ran alongside the lake for four blocks before starting east toward the road he’d observed yesterday.
He passed several fenced properties, then stopped when he saw a grouping of horses taking their leisure under shady trees. On a whim, he stopped running and walked over to the fence and whistled. Several of the animals approached cautiously, and he ran his hand down the neck of a pinto.
Memories flooded back. He used to hang on paddocks during rodeo days. He was seven, and he thought traveling from one rodeo to the next with his father was the best life ever.
His mother hated it.
He recalled the constant arguments. The fights. The accusations. He would sneak out of the cheap motel room or rented trailer and run over to the arena where he’d find the horses. Not the wild broncs, but his father’s horse and the other riders’ horses. He pocketed sugar cubes from the diners where they ate and usually had several with him.
He remembered the first time his father had put him on a horse. “Kid’s a natural rider,” he’d crowed to anyone who’d listen. It remained the second proudest moment of his life.
Number one was the receiving the SEAL Trident. After seven months of pure hell, he’d emerged among the few who had survived the most rigorous military training of any service. The trident was his only tattoo. Nothing could ever top it. He only wished his father had lived to see it.
He shook off the memories and looked around. Beyond the horse pasture, cattle grazed in a separate area. The grass was a rich green, which meant the rancher probably had an irrigation system. A modest ranch house and several other buildings were located well back on the property. The road leading to it was barred by a locked gate.
Another horse, curious about the stranger, wandered over, nickered and stuck his head over the fence.
“Hey there,” Jubal said. “You’re a handsome fellow.”
The horse tossed his head as if he understood. He was a buckskin, the same as Dusty, his father’s cutting horse. A flashback sent him back to the dust-filled arenas and his father aboard a bucking bronc. He also remembered the hospital rooms when his father had been thrown...
He was suddenly aware of a pickup barreling down the driveway. At the same time, he heard the sound of a police siren coming from the direction of Covenant Falls.
The gate must have been electronic because it swung open as the pickup neared. A wiry man of somewhere near sixty stepped out, a shotgun in his hands. It was pointed at the ground, which was a hopeful sign.
“Just stay there, mister,” the newcomer said.
Jubal wasn’t about to refuse. He spread out his hands. “I’m not armed. I just stopped to see the horses.”
The man squinted his eyes. “Who are you?”
“Name’s Jubal Pierce. I’m staying in Covenant Falls.”
“You one of those veterans?”
“I guess I am,” Jubal said. “I was out running and saw the horses. They brought back some memories.”
“You know horses?” The shotgun was in a more relaxed position now.
“A little.”
“Ride much?” the rancher asked.
Jubal shrugged. “Not recently. Some as a really young kid, then briefly in Afghanistan.”
“Afghanistan, huh? I would sure like to hear about that. Sorry about the shotgun. We’ve been having a rustling problem around here. Both cattle and horses. They usually strike at night, bring a truck, cut the fence and load them up in a matter of minutes. They only take a few, don’t stay long enough to get caught. I have cameras along the fence line now and called the police when I saw someone loitering.”
A patrol car arrived just then, and Clint stepped out and approached them. “You just can’t seem to stay out of trouble, can you, Jubal?” he said with a grin.
“It’s okay, Clint,” the rancher said. “He just stopped to say howdy to my horses. Sorry about the false alarm.”
“Glad you did. You can never be too careful, and I’m determined to get those bastards.” He turned to Jubal. “Luke Daniels here raises some of the best quarter horses in Colorado. Luke, Jubal and I go way back. I was army. He’s navy but despite that faulty judgment on his part you won’t find a better man.” Clint studied him, his gaze on Jubal’s taped wrist and the bandage on his hand. “I thought you told me you weren’t hurt.”
“It’s nothing. A mild sprain.”
Clint looked at the rancher. “He won’t tell you but he rescued the new doc’s sister and dog yesterday. Pushed them out of the way of Mrs. Byars’s oncoming car. Took the hit himself.”
Jubal glared at him.
Clint ignored it and his eyes hardened as he turned to Luke. “Any more trouble out here?”
“Nope. But I’m ready if there is. Thanks for answering the call even though I’m outside the city limits.”
Clint shrugged. “I have an agreement with the county. We help each other. Don’t hesitate to call again if you see strangers prowling around.”
“I wasn’t prowling,” Jubal said, defendeding himself.
Clint raised an eyebrow, turned and left.
The rancher looked back to Jubal. “Jacko, the horse you were touching? He doesn’t let many people do that.” He hesitated, then asked, “Ever ride a quarter horse?”
“When I was a small kid. My dad taught me how to ride his personal horse, Dusty. Then my folks divorced and I moved to Baltimore when I was seven. My mother didn’t want me to have anything to do with horses after that.”
“What about Afghanistan?”
“They needed four of us to work with a tribe there to capture a Taliban leader. I sorta exaggerated my experience and had to learn fast when I got there. The horses were small and scrawny, but they could go forever without tiring.”
Luke shook his head. “From what I hear, if you can ride those horses, you can probably ride anything.”
Jubal shrugged.
“Want to ride Jacko?” Luke asked.
“Hell, yes,” Jubal replied, and Luke grinned.
The rancher opened the gate between them and climbed in the pickup. “Get in.”
It was a short ride to the barn. Fenced pastures were on both sides of the road, which led to a parking area and a riding ring that fronted a large barn. Beside it stood a modest ranch house.
Jubal followed Luke into the barn. Stalls lined both sides of the building and a large equipment room was in front. “Impressive,” Jubal observed.
“Twenty-two stalls. We have sixteen of our own horses, and we board four more,” Luke said with obvious pride. “We have an arena barn in back where we train them.”
“Must keep you busy.”
“Too busy. My kids were helping around here but they left this week for college. Now it’s mostly my wife and me, and a stable hand who cleans out the stalls and does whatever else needs to be done. We also have some high school kids who come and help exercise the horses, but they’ll be back in school next week and I’ll be short-handed. Don’t have time to do the training I need to do.” He stopped at a tack area with a number of saddles sitting on sawhorses. “Western saddle?”
“Yeah.”
“Can you saddle him with that wrist?”
“I can manage,” Jubal said, ignoring the fact that his wrist was hurting like hell. He used his right hand to throw the blanket on Jacko, then the saddle, while Luke tacked the pinto that had followed them to the barn. He realized he had a problem in tightening the cinch with his injured hand. “Guess I do need a little help.”
Luke nodded. He took the few steps to Jacko and tightened the cinch. “Here you go,” he said.
“Where did Jacko get his name?” Jubal asked.
“My son.”
“Is this his horse?”
“No. He’s for sale, but I have to find the right buyer. I don’t sell my horses to just anyone.” Luke swung up into his horse’s saddle.
Using both hands, Jubal did the same.
They walked their horses side by side. Jubal noticed the rancher was sizing him up much as the trainers had back in SEAL training.
Luke talked about ranching and how difficult it was these days. “We can’t hang on forever. Federal regulations are killing us, and it’s too dang hard to find responsible help. Both my kids love horses and the ranch, but Boone is going into business agriculture and my daughter has her heart set on journalism. Like I said, both left for college last week. Won’t be back until Thanksgiving.”
Luke guided the way around his property, including two pastures for horses and a third for the cattle. “We’ve had to sell most of our cattle when we lost grazing rights. Now, I specialize in breeding Black Angus cattle and training and selling quarter horses, mostly for performance competitions. I have a champion stallion and some fine mares.” He slowed his horse. “You have a damn good seat for someone who hasn’t ridden much.”
“My dad said I was born to the saddle, like him,” Jubal said.
“What did he do?”
“Rodeo. Bronc riding mostly and calf roping, and steer roping.”
“Hard business.”
“He died from it,” Jubal said. “Never did get that PRC championship buckle he wanted, but he made enough prize money to keep trying.”
Luke nodded in understanding. “Ready for a faster gait?”
Jubal nodded and tightened his knees. Jacko obliged with an easy lope and Jubal’s body quickly adjusted.
The breeze brushed Jubal’s cheeks, the sun was warm, and Jubal felt freer—and happier—than he had since that last mission. He felt, strangely enough, as if he was exactly where he belonged.
Is that why his father stayed with the rodeo circuit for so long, even at the risk of his marriage and the loss of his son? For the first time, he understood.
Luke slowed and led the way to a clump of trees. When they reached it, he dismounted. Jubal did the same and followed him to a stream. “This is the lifeblood of the ranch,” Luke said. “Without it we would be in trouble.”
They walked over to a little rise overlooking the stream. “My great-great-grandfather came here in 1865 after the war,” Luke added. “He fought in the Civil War for the north. Rebels came, too, but after some hostility, the Rebs and Yanks banded together against Indian raids and outlaws. Five generations of my family are buried here. I would hate to be the last one.”
Jubal couldn’t imagine having land that housed one family for a century and a half. Deep roots were something Jubal had always envied, always missed. It was one reason he’d joined the navy and become a SEAL. He’d wanted to belong to something that had meaning. When he’d left the navy, he’d felt anchorless.
As if he knew exactly what Jubal was thinking, Luke asked, “What about you? Where’s home to you?”
“Don’t really have one,” he said. “Coronado Island was my home base for years and that came closer than anything else.” He didn’t add that home had been a shared apartment between missions.
“Coronado Island?” Luke repeated. “You a navy SEAL? I know they train there.”
Jubal nodded reluctantly. “Retired a month ago.” He didn’t like talking about it, but Luke seemed like a straight shooter and he didn’t want to lie to him.
“I spent four years in the navy,” Luke said. “You might say I ran away from home before I realized everything I needed was here.”
“So you came back.”
“Not at first. My older brother was to inherit the ranch, and I wanted adventure. Found out I couldn’t stay away from horses and returned home. Then Bob passed away—cancer—without children, and here I am.” After a moment of companionable silence, he turned in the saddle to face Jubal. “Mind me asking what you’re going to do now?”
“I came here to visit Clint for a few days. We were friends in the service. Then I thought I would wander a bit.”
“No family?”
“No. My mother and I never got along, and I didn’t think much of my stepfather. I left for the navy two days after graduating from high school. After qualifying for the SEALs, I didn’t think marriage went with the job.”
“I was lucky,” Luke said. “I met my wife at a horse show where she was a champion barrel racer. She trains horses, too, does most of the teaching here. She has more patience than I do. We also offer trail rides in conjunction with Josh’s new inn. One of us has to go along with pleasure riders now that the kids are in college.”
“Sounds like a good life.”
“It is that, if I can keep it afloat.”
They were nearing the barn. “What would it take?” Jubal asked.
“Another championship. We have two students who are very close to achieving that on horses we bred and trained. A win would promote our teaching and training programs as well as our horses. We need more land to expand our cattle herd and more employees than I can afford. Why don’t you stay for lunch with us? Tracy’s probably going nuts dealing with paperwork.”
Jubal considered it. Gordon wasn’t supposed to return until tomorrow afternoon. He didn’t have much else going on until then.
After unsaddling the horses and cooling them off, they walked to the ranch house.
Tracy met them at the door. She was lean and tall, and as tanned from the sun as Luke was. She immediately made Jubal feel at home.
“Wondered what was keeping him so long,” she said with a quick smile. “I have some stew I can heat up.”
“Sounds good to me,” Jubal said. “I’ve been living on sandwiches.”
It was good. He ate every bite of his first bowl, then a second before consuming two slices of apple pie.
After lunch, the two men sat on the broad front porch.
Luke talked about his horses, then leaned forward in his chair as if he’d just made a decision.
“Look,” he said. “From what you say, you’re at loose ends now. You obviously like horses and have a way with them. I noticed it when you first stroked Jacko. He usually doesn’t allow that. It’s the reason he’s still with us. He’s not usually friendly to would-be buyers. Likes to nip them.”
He paused. “What if I offered you a job? We need someone to exercise the horses. Tracy and I will teach you what you need to know. Can’t pay much but you’d learn a hell of a lot about horses and riding.” He paused. “What do you think?”
“You barely know me,” Jubal said slowly as he absorbed the offer.
“I’ve done a lot of horse trading in my day. And I’m better than average at sizing up a person,” Luke said. “You listen and learn fast. And you can’t fake that natural connection with the horses.”
“I wasn’t planning to stay more than a few days or so,” Jubal said slowly, although something like excitement built internally. It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed anything as much as that day’s ride.
“No commitment needed,” Luke said. “I would enjoy having you around and appreciate any help you can give us.”
Jubal made an instant decision. “Done, then. When do I start?”
“When can you start?”
“In the morning,” Jubal replied with an eagerness that startled even him. “Although I do have an appointment at two.”
“Whatever time you can give me will be welcome. A warning, though. Horseback riding abuses a whole different set of muscles than running. You might be sore for a few days.”
“I expect I will,” Jubal said, but he inwardly smiled. Comparatively speaking, a few aches were nothing.
“And you’ll need something heavier than sweat pants. Jeans are okay, but you really need heavier riding pants.”
Jubal left soon after and started running back to the cabin. For the first time since his escape he truly looked forward to something.