twenty-five

As soon as the interview was over, Hunter sped off, and Zeke headed for the stable to check on Jed. When he reached the horse’s stall, he saw Dr. Jennifer Cahill administering an injection while Chet cold-washed the gelding’s leg with a hose.

“How does it look?” Zeke asked.

Dr. Cahill withdrew the syringe. “I gave him an anti-venom injection and started antibiotics. His overall condition is stable, but there’s a great deal of swelling. I think he’ll make it, but he could still go lame.”

Zeke knew what lameness meant. At best, Jed would be retired as a trail horse. At worst, he’d be unable to walk and would have to be put down. All because of Hunter Adams and his arrogance. That man deserved a one-way trip to Rattlesnake Ranch.

Dr. Cahill ran her hand along the horse’s foreleg. “I’ve done all I can. Jed’s in good hands with Chet here.”

“Thanks, Doc,” Zeke said.

She packed up her bag, told them to call if Jed needed her, and left the stable.

Zeke turned his attention to Chet. The lines around his mouth were deeper than usual, and though he was humming “Streets of Laredo,” fury still burned in his eyes. When he rounded on Zeke, his voice came out hoarse.

“I have a mind to pound Hunter Adams into the ground. He almost killed one of our best horses, and then he tried to blame the horse.”

“It’s all in the report.”

“Stupid fool,” Chet muttered. “And he’s a liar. He deliberately ignored what I told him. That’s just not right, especially with two horses and a boy in his care.” Chet cranked off the hose and scratched Jed’s neck. “If Jed balked, it was because of the snake. You heard what the boy said. He heard the snake before Jed saw it.”

The interview with Hunter played through Zeke’s head. Twisted facts aside, there was no denying Hunter’s responsibility. He could lie and deny all day long, but the evidence stood and Hunter knew it.

“I doubt he’ll make trouble, and if he does, I have enough on him to protect us from a lawsuit.”

Chet let out a snort. “We should sue him for endangering Jed.”

As much as Zeke wanted to agree, a good boss didn’t complain to the employees below him. He took his concerns up the ladder, which he intended to do as soon as he returned to his office. Ginger was about to get a very serious phone call.

Zeke gave Jed a pat on the neck. “Anything else before I leave?”

“Nope.” Chet turned the hose back on. “I’ll spend the night out here on a cot. Just don’t let Adams or his uncle buy this place.”

“I won’t.”

The promise weighed heavily on Zeke’s shoulders, because he knew good and well he might not be able to keep it. The shackles of helplessness tightened even more as he walked out of the barn and took in the run-down buildings and thirsty hills. Everywhere he looked, he saw the ravages of drought.

He drove past Golden Point, worried the asphalt wouldn’t be laid in time, and raked his hand through his hair. Once he was back in his office, he shut the door and called Ginger. “We had a problem at the stable this afternoon.”

She gave a little laugh. “What did Ladybug do this time?”

“Nothing. The problem involves Hunter Adams.” He told her about Hunter leaving the main trail, the snakebite, and the trauma to both Max and the horse. “Jed’s not out of the woods, but Dr. Cahill’s hopeful.”

Ginger gasped. “That poor horse. And Max too. What a fright for everyone. How did this happen?”

“According to Hunter, you gave him permission to ride alone with Max. Despite Chet’s instructions, he left the main trail. I don’t know what you told Chet when you gave your permission, but—”

“Hold on, Zeke. This doesn’t add up. Hunter called this morning to confirm his uncle’s arrival. During that call, he said he was an experienced rider and asked if he could give Max a riding lesson. I know Max is underage. I admit I bent that particular rule. But I assumed they’d stay in the corral. Apparently Hunter had other ideas. I just didn’t realize it.”

“And Chet got caught in the middle. When Adams insisted on taking Max out on the trail, Chet assumed you knew the plan.”

“I can see how the mistake happened, but I did not give Hunter permission to go to those boulders.”

“Understood. But that’s what he did, and he did it in spite of Chet’s instructions.”

“Hunter’s a smart man, Zeke. I like him, and anyone can see how much he loves his son. Perhaps he just made a mistake.”

“No,” Zeke replied. “It was deliberate. He said he wanted to take a picture of the resort for Applegate.”

Ginger paused. “What are you suggesting?”

“You can’t trust him.”

“Oh, I see.”

“What?”

“This is personal for you.”

Zeke needed to tread carefully. “It’s true that I don’t care for Hunter’s personality.” Or his ethics. “But I’m speaking strictly as a professional. In my opinion, he deliberately misled you and then misconstrued Chet’s instructions.”

“I don’t care for your tone.”

“My tone? I’m not following you.”

“You’ve been honest, Zeke, so I’ll return the favor. I have to wonder if you’re being unfair to Hunter because of your feelings for Julia.”

Zeke answered with a clean conscience. “You don’t need to worry. The three of us have a history, but Julia’s a professional and so am I.”

“I realize that. But I’m not blind. If the tension between the three of you impacts either this presentation to Maury Applegate or Tiff’s wedding, I’ll be extremely disappointed in both you and Julia. Regardless of Hunter’s activities—and I agree he behaved poorly today—I expect you to show him the utmost respect.”

What a load of garbage. Even more galling, she sounded just like dear old Dad lecturing him to do more, try harder, and be better. He rocked forward in his throne of a chair. “I’ll do my best. You know that.”

“Yes, I do.”

Somehow he set down the phone without slamming it. He’d just been ordered to kowtow to Hunter, and he didn’t know which infuriated him more—the lecture or the order itself. He shoved back from the desk, sending the chair skidding into the wall, and snatched his keys. He needed to see Julia now. He needed her touch, her calm ways, even a dose of her faith. Never mind the caution flag waving in his face.

But halfway across the room, his common sense prevailed. If Ginger saw his car in Julia’s driveway, especially right now, she’d jump to conclusions that wouldn’t be entirely inaccurate. Sighing, he went back to his desk, dropped the jangling keys, and sat. At least he could still use the phone.

“How are you?” he asked when Julia answered.

“All right.” She sounded distant.

“Is Hunter there?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“He texted about Max after you made the report.” She heaved a sigh that rattled right through him. “I’m done with him for the night. Would you like to come over?”

“Oh, man.” Zeke dragged his hand through his hair. “I wish I could, but Ginger’s watching us.” He told her about the call. “I don’t think it would be smart.”

“No.”

He heard running water and the clatter of dishes. “What are you doing?”

“Rinsing a plate.” Her voice took on the mommy tone, a sign Max was listening. “We had mac and cheese for dinner.”

Max piped up. “And chocolate milk.”

Julia spoke over the rushing water to Zeke. “Hold on, okay?” She told Max she’d be in the living room, remained silent for a few seconds, then murmured into the phone, “How’s Jed?”

“Better. But he could still go lame. It’ll be a while before we know.”

“Max keeps asking about him.” Julia dropped her voice even lower. “I still can’t believe what Hunter did today. When I think about what could have happened—” Her voice cracked.

Every nerve in Zeke’s body tensed. He loved this woman. Loved her enough to fight and die for her, but all he could do was sit in his office and twiddle his thumbs. More than anything he wanted to ride in on a white horse, play the superhero, and rescue her from Hunter, snakes, and all of life’s turmoil.

And then it hit him. He couldn’t comfort Julia in person, but he could give her the same words she had already given to him. He might not to be free to fight for her, or to rescue her like Han Solo or the Ninja Turtles, but he did have a voice. “I love you, Jules. I loved you in Berkeley, and I love you now. I’d rather say this in person, but I need you to know how I feel. Right now, it’s all I have to give.”

A soft sob filtered into his ears. “I love you too, but . . .” That last word dragged into a sigh.

Zeke stared out the window, his brow furrowed. “But what?”

“You have no idea how much I want to tell you to forget Ginger and come over right now. How much I want to just be with you. It would be the easiest thing in the world to lean on you, Zeke.” Her voice shook but didn’t break. “But I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” He wanted her to lean on him. For once today, he wanted to feel like a man and not a mouse.

“We talked about this at the pool. My faith is still so new. I’m still learning how to lean on God instead of myself. You’re having problems too.”

True or not, he bristled at the reminder. “My problems are my own. I’m working on them.”

“I know you are.” She took another breath. “But we both need to find our way independent of each other before we can have the solid relationship I think we both want. We’d be fools to move too fast, especially with Hunter in the picture.”

Catman again. Zeke threw back his shoulders. “I can handle him.”

“I know you can.” The confidence in her voice gave him a lift. “You were great today, Zeke. I appreciate everything you did, especially how you worked it so I could leave alone with Max. But I’m not sure you understand what it’s like to deal with Hunter almost every day. He pushes for his own way all the time. He’ll pick fights with you. He’ll treat you like he did in Berkeley. He’ll make you mad and—”

“I get it, Jules. He’s a jerk.”

“He’s more than that. He’s a constant presence in my life. You can’t change that or fix it.”

Great. The woman he loved didn’t think he could protect her.

“It’s hard,” she continued. “The only thing holding me together is my faith. Without that foundation, I’m afraid Hunter will get to us both, and I don’t want to add to your problems. If you and I don’t see life the same way, we’ll fight like we did in Berkeley, and—”

“Jules, stop.”

“But—”

“Don’t.” Her dire predictions smacked into him like stones, accused him of being weak, and reminded him that he really wasn’t the man she needed and deserved. The turquoise geode caught his eye and he stumbled back in time to Berkeley. “It’s a faith issue, isn’t it? I’m not the man I used to be.”

“Oh, Zeke—”

“I get it, Jules. You want Mr. Perfect Christian.”

“What?”

“You know. The guy I used to be. The guy who does everything right.”

Her voice cooled. “I don’t know what you mean. To me, a perfect Christian doesn’t exist.”

He did not want to have this conversation. Not now. Not ever, because every time, the words flayed him alive. “I don’t want to argue with you about this, especially not after a day like this one.”

“I don’t either. I love you, Zeke. I love you too much to settle for less than the kind of relationship I think we both want.”

’Til death do us part . . . Forever . . . A marriage built on a strong rock and not shifting sand. Promises a mere mortal couldn’t keep.

“I have to be brutally clear,” she said. “I’ve been a Christian for such a short time. I don’t know very much about God, and frankly I’m a little bit scared by all the changes. But I know this. No matter how much I love you, there are two things I can’t compromise on—Max and my faith.”

The tone of her voice scraped him raw. He started to respond, but she wasn’t finished with him.

“That’s why you and I need to be just friends until you’re at peace and I’m stronger in my faith.”

He didn’t move a muscle. There was nowhere to go, nothing to say, because deep in his soul, in the dark corner where he was still a child, he envied her conviction. Zeke wasn’t that certain anymore. He was an adult who knew how it felt to be beaten up by life. Then again, so did Julia. She wasn’t innocent or naïve in the least. She’d been beaten up too, but instead of spurning the message of the cross the way he did, she had run to it.

His fingers tightened on the phone. Bile rose in his throat. Their future came down to one simple fact: he couldn’t be the man she deserved until he found his way back to God, and he needed to make that journey alone.

“Look,” he said as gently as he could. “We’re not going to solve this tonight. You need to take care of Max, and I have some thinking to do.”

“I suppose we both do.”

They murmured quiet good-byes without saying I love you.

Zeke tossed down the phone and stood. Hands on hips, he glowered at the wall of diplomas and awards, the books, even the geodes. Every degree, every accomplishment—what did all that hard work really mean? Apparently nothing. He had given Julia and Caliente Springs his personal best, everything in his heart and soul, and where was he now? Not good enough. Rejected by Julia in the past for being too Christian and now for not being Christian enough.

He stood frozen in place, trapped and mentally shackled.

Isolated.

Helpless.

Desperate enough to shout a cuss word he almost never used. With his fists knotted, he glowered at a bare spot on the wall. One punch. Just one powerful swing of his arm . . . but perfect men didn’t put their fists through walls. They didn’t crack and cry, or beg and plead. They stayed strong.

Except Zeke wasn’t strong enough. He never had been, and he wasn’t now. He was sick of it—sick of failing, sick of trying. Sick of being angry and hiding it.

Turning away from the blank wall, he glared at the geodes and imagined hurling one through the floor-to-ceiling window. Geodes were just ugly rocks until someone broke them open the way he’d cracked them with his dad. There were a lot of ways to do it, but a true collector used a hammer and chisel, tapping a line around the circumference until the rock was ready to give way. Then with a twist of his wrist, the expert opened the geode and discovered a marvel of God’s artistry.

Tap . . . Tap . . . Tap.

Every memory of every sin in his life stabbed into Zeke’s chest. He’d always been so sure of himself, especially back in Berkeley, so full of confidence in his ability to resist sexual temptation. Guilt over his choices had churned into ambivalence, and ambivalence had thickened into resentment. Over the years the resentment hardened into the lifeless stone now in his chest.

Groaning, he dropped down on the couch, propped his elbows on his knees, and buried his head in his hands. He saw it now. With every personal failure, God had been chipping at his pride. Zeke was not now—and he never had been—the perfect person he believed he could be if only he tried hard enough.

As a boy, he’d secretly resented every word out of his father’s mouth.

Tap . . . Tap . . . Tap.

As a college student, he’d given in to lust and love in spite of putting up the best fight he could.

Tap . . . Tap . . . Tap.

And here he was now, a guy with an MBA, insisting he could single-handedly pull Caliente Springs from the brink of disaster.

Tap . . . Tap . . . Tap.

Every one of Zeke’s failings was common to man. Nothing extraordinary. And yet the humiliation of accepting his own humanity tore the skin off his back. Knowing full well surrender meant repentance and trusting God fully, even to the point of death and failure, he handed over his heart of stone. “Finish it, Lord. Crack it open.”

He felt nothing. No tears. No joy. But a pinprick of light illuminated the dark place where he had fallen. Suddenly he knew exactly what he needed to do. It was time to open the rest of the boxes in the garage.