Laurie Salzer - A Kiss Before Dawn

Laurie Salzer

Blue Feather Books (2012)

Country girl Chris Martel has struggled all her life to form strong, lasting relationships. For Chris, love, compassion, and trust are critical. In their absence, Chris has turned to her dog and her horse for the emotional fulfillment she craves. Then along comes Mary Jo Cavanaugh.

Fresh out of veterinary school, Mary Jo inadvertently antagonizes Chris with her overconfident assumptions about how to care for animals. She comes to learn that Chris's practical experience provides both a wealth of knowledge and a friendship unlike any she's ever known.

The carefully built walls around Chris's heart begin to crumble as she acknowledges the unfamiliar feelings evoked by being with Mary Jo. Just as she believes she's found the happiness that had always eluded her, someone from Chris's past comes back into her life, intent on winning Chris's affections, no matter what the cost.

Can the love between Chris and Mary Jo survive so that they can share A Kiss Before Dawn?

Table of Contents

- Acknowledgements

- Chapter 1

- Chapter 2

- Chapter 3

- Chapter 4

- Chapter 5

- Chapter 6

- Chapter 7

- Chapter 8

- Chapter 9

- Chapter 10

- Chapter 11

- Chapter 12

- Chapter 13

- Chapter 14

- Chapter 15

- Chapter 16

- Chapter 17

- Chapter 18

- Chapter 19

- Chapter 20

- Chapter 21

- Chapter 22

- Chapter 23

- Chapter 24

- Chapter 25

- Chapter 26

- Chapter 27

- About the Author

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This book is dedicated to my Gram, Mary Eichler. She was the most amazing woman I’ve ever known. She taught me to take chances in life, and there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t miss her.

This is a work of fiction.  All characters, locales and events are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

A KISS BEFORE DAWN

Copyright © 2012 by Laurie Salzler

All rights reserved.  No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher, save for brief quotations used in critical articles or reviews.

Cover design by Ann Phillips

A Blue Feather Book

Published by Blue Feather Books, Ltd.

www.bluefeatherbooks.com

ISBN: 978-1-935627-89-0

First edition: February, 2012

Printed in the United States of America and in the United Kingdom.

Acknowledgements

Many years ago I promised my English Literature professor that in lieu of changing my major, I’d someday write a book… and here it is.

I’d first like to thank my beta readers: Jaci, Barb, Cheryl, Astrid, Kimberly, and Marie. Your comments were invaluable. Chris Paynter, I am in your debt. Without your unending patience and guidance, I may have given up the desire to have this published. Very special thanks go to Jeanne and Genyne for letting me bounce ideas off you and putting up with my reading seemingly endless passages to you.

Sincere gratitude and hugs go to Blue Feather’s guiding forces, Emily Reed and Jane Vollbrecht, for taking a chance on me and giving my writing a home. I look forward to a very long and productive relationship with this wonderful publishing house.

Special thanks go to Nene Adams, who made my first ever edit not only relatively painless, but enjoyable because I learned so much from you. Nann Dunne, you are incomparable. Words fail me at the talent, time, and effort you put in to get me out of a jam. Huge, long hugs are due you.

Ann Phillips, you are simply amazing, having put together the exact cover I had in mind. Thank you!

All the humans in this book are figments of my imagination, or demons of my nightmares. However, Cedar, Cagney, Sadie, and the horses all exist in reality. Their personalities are too uniquely special for me to have made them up.

Last, but never, ever least, I would like to thank my best friend, partner, and wife, Linda who has shown and given me relentless support, patience, and the confidence in myself to realize this dream. Thirty years ago I gave you my heart and I don’t ever want it back. Ever.

Chapter 1

At five o’clock in the morning, Chris Martel opened the door, boots in hand. Three dogs followed her out of the house and wagged their tails as they waited. She sat down on the porch step to put the boots on and get ready to head out to the barn to start chores. As she laced her boots, she glanced up at heavy purple clouds.

“It’s going to be another hot one today, girlies,” she said to a chorus of happy tail thumps from the dogs. A thin sheen of sweat had formed on her tanned skin, and she mopped her brow on her shirtsleeve. Her scalp was already sweaty.

It had been raining off and on for the past two weeks. With the rain came stifling August heat and humidity since Lake Ontario’s effects were strong enough to reach forty-two miles into New York State to the small town of Bristol. The dogs were panting, and their paws left brief sweaty prints on the concrete patio.

Chris stood up, stretched her back, and followed the girls down the lane. Cedar, the oldest and most protective, and Cagney, Chris’s self-appointed nursemaid, both yellow Labrador retrievers, stuck close, cautious of the herd of hungry cats that tended to be grumpy at this time of the morning. Sadie, the Jack Russell, single-minded as always, headed into one of the grassy pastures to hunt for rodents.

The daily chorus of impatient whinnies and nickers from ten horses greeted Chris as she neared the barn. The stall nearest the house had a window that afforded a good view to a big black Thoroughbred named Top Hat, or Mad Hattie as Chris fondly called her. The minute lights came on in the house and Chris started out the door, Mad Hattie would sound out a whinny and alert the other horses on the farm.

Warm barn aromas met Chris’s nose when she opened the doors. She grabbed the feed cart and started to dish out the morning grain. She loved this time of day. The barn smelled of hay, bedding, and the sweet scent of horse.

Ruby, her Paint mare, walked into her stall subtly favoring her right front foot. Chris narrowed her eyes and scrutinized her. She’d bred Ruby to her stallion the day before, and the mare had seemed fine then. Chris finished dishing out the grain and returned to the mare’s stall. Ruby nickered softly when she saw Chris coming near.

“Hey, big girl,” she said softly as she entered Ruby’s stall. “What kind of trouble did you get into last night?” She ran her hands down the horse’s front legs. “You don’t have any heat or swelling. Okay, let me see that hoof of yours.” She rotated to Ruby’s side and lifted her foot. Ruby leaned on her, and Chris grunted with the shared weight. While she inspected the hoof, the mare reached around and nuzzled Chris’s butt with obvious affection.

“A little higher, darling, it’s my back that hurts this morning.” Chris tried to ignore the sting of sweat that ran into her eyes. The horse gingerly put her hoof down when she released it. She patted Ruby on the neck, walked out of the stall, and debated what to do.

She heard Bill Went’s voice as if he were there: If the horse has her mind on pain, she’s not going to do the foal justice.

“Well, sweetie,” she said, “I think it may be a bruise, but I’m going to have Doc come look at you anyway. I can’t let you be in pain while you’re carrying that baby.”

With strict horse-keeping practices in place, she summoned Dr. Richard Hall to the farm mostly during the foaling and breeding season, so she hadn’t seen him in weeks.

Chris reached through the metal bars, gave Ruby a pat on the forehead, and walked down the aisle toward the office to call the veterinary clinic. The dogs got up from the cool floor and followed in her wake.

Chapter 2

Mary Jo Cavanaugh turned into Dr. Hall’s driveway, ready to begin her new job.

She had barely made it to the clinic on time and almost regretted the previous night’s raucous celebration with a few friends, a party honoring her graduation from Cornell University’s College of Veterinary Medicine.

When her cell alarm had gone off earlier, Mary Jo had become conscious of a slight hangover, but couldn’t recall the name of the blonde woman sleeping next to her. Too hurried to wake the woman and too self-satisfied to care, she had located her clothes, dressed, and rushed out of the woman’s apartment to go home, shower, and prepare for her first day at work.

After she parked her Ford Ranger, she noticed a new sign attached to the red-shingled building that served as Doc’s equine hospital. She read it with some anxiety, but mostly a tangle of excitement and joy in her belly: Coyote Crossing Equine Clinic, Richard Hall DVM, and Mary Jo Cavanaugh DVM. She gathered her hair into a ponytail and pulled it through the back of her baseball cap. She quickly checked her appearance in the rearview mirror and hoped the fact she had a headache wasn’t apparent. After she pulled the keys from the ignition and took a deep breath, she got out of the truck.

Cool air wafted over her as she opened the door and walked into the front part of the clinic. She passed storage shelves laden with bottles of antibiotics, tranquilizers, various salves, and other supplies that were the mainstay of the practice. She paused briefly beside a portable X-ray machine near the door and took in the familiar odors of antiseptic, hay, manure, and horse sweat.

Mary Jo crossed the threshold and saw Doc’s assistant and wife, Donna, sitting alone at a desk, talking on the phone. Probably talking to a client, she thought. She waved to Donna, opened the door to the stable area attached to the office, and called, “Hey there. Anybody home?” Her voice echoed off the high ceilings.

“MJ! Come on in.”

As long as she’d known him, Doc had called her MJ. His greeting made her smile. She walked in and stopped briefly to admire Doc’s updated clinic. It was so different from the early days when she’d been an enthusiastic, thirteen-year-old owner of a horse. Although they’d kept in touch over the years via phone calls and mostly e-mail, this was the first time Mary Jo had seen the new clinic.

A garage door—where horses entered when they arrived—was open, and a refreshing breeze drifted inside. Three big stalls stood to the left, each with an individual number on the door. To the right, a surgical table stood next to a heavily padded recovery stall. In addition, the roof had numerous skylights which could be opened for better air circulation. Doc’s place was state of the art, and she believed it was going to be a pleasure working here.

“Where the heck are you?” Mary Jo asked.

“I’m in stall three.”

She walked in the direction of Doc’s voice, peeked between the bars of a stall, and found him rewrapping the front foot of a chestnut Thoroughbred.

Doctor Richard Hall was fifty-nine, but other than the silver hair, which he’d had the entire time she’d known him, he didn’t look over forty. He was a big man on a six-foot frame with muscles to match. Brown eyes complemented his dark, handsome face.

“What’s up with this beauty?” Mary Jo nodded toward the horse.

Doc finished wrapping the foot, stood up, and visibly admired the horse. “He presented lame for the past year until his owner let me X-ray him. I found a growth on his coffin bone. I brought him in, drilled a hole in his hoof, and scraped it off. When he heals, he can return to the jumping circuit and I think he’ll do fine. I’m going to keep him here another week or so before I send him home.”

“We worked on cadavers to explore the hoof, so I’ve never seen a coffin bone in a live horse. Wish I hadn’t been tied up with the boards so I could’ve been here.” Mary Jo sighed in frustration.

“Better you get that testing done than be working with me. Technically, I shouldn’t let you practice yet without you having your license on hand, but I’m sure the State’s delay will be short. Either way, you’ll only be riding with me for a few weeks until you get it. I’ve already added you to the practice’s insurance, so we just need that piece of paper.”

“Good. You can introduce me to clients, and I’ll be able to put faces with names,” Mary Jo said as she opened the stall door for Doc.

“You probably already know most of them. Not a lot has changed since you were just a pipsqueak riding with me on Saturday calls.”

Doc gave the horse a reassuring pat on the neck and came out of the stall. “Come on. Let’s go see what Donna has in store for us today.”

Mary Jo followed Doc into the office area where Donna was busy putting together the daily call list.

“Let’s have a cup of coffee before we start loading the truck,” Doc said. “I won’t want anything hot for the rest of the day, especially in this weather.”

After he poured them both coffees, Doc sat with her to start compiling a list of supplies and instruments they would need for the day’s calls. Ten minutes later he looked up from his tablet. “Why don’t you wander around, look among the shelves, and familiarize yourself with where things are? I’ll be ready in a few.”

Mary Jo strolled around the office with her coffee mug in hand and committed the locations of the different drugs to memory. She opened drawers and found, among other things, sterilized surgical trays. A cabinet revealed wraps and boxes of casting material as well as boxes of syringes and needles of different sizes. The next cabinet held drain tubes, cotton, and catheters.

She had just located the case containing the metal files and drills for dentistry work when Doc called to her. “Now that you’re somewhat familiar with where things are in the office, go ahead and check out the truck.”

Mary Jo went outside to the parking lot and approached the clinic’s truck: an F-150 4x4 Ford pickup fitted with a vet box about the size of a small camper. It included drawers and cubbyholes for storing supplies, and a small refrigerator for vaccines and drugs that needed to be stored cold. The sides lifted up with the help of hydraulic arms. The back had the normal tailgate with a lift that gave access to the top. On the lower right, she spotted a small water heater and a faucet with a hose attached. A space in the middle held extra cases such as the X-ray machine, dentistry case, and a head stand used to support the head of a standing tranquilized horse.

Amazed, Mary Jo remarked as Doc joined her outside, “This thing is like an office on wheels.” Years earlier when she had ridden with him, all of Doc’s veterinary supplies had been crammed into a little Toyota Corolla.

“True enough, except there’s no room to fit Donna.” Doc laughed at his own joke.

Almost hidden in the truck’s cab, among boots, a couple of changes of clothes, and wrappers from various fast food places, sat a laptop with a small printer underneath.

“I’m not even sure there’s room for me,” Mary Jo said half seriously.

“You’ll fit, but it’s a good thing it’s not winter. I usually have a heavy coat and a couple of thermoses taking up that seat. Okay,” Doc said. “Let’s load up and get moving.”

Mary Jo opened the passenger side door and rolled down the windows to let the superheated air escape before she climbed into the truck. Doc did the same on the driver’s side. Once he pulled out on the road, she picked up the call list and started reading.

“So we’re heading to the Went Farm first?” she asked. “I haven’t seen Bill since before I graduated from high school. He’s a nice guy.”

“He was.” Doc sighed. “He died about four years ago if I remember correctly. His ticker just quit. It was a shock to everybody who knew him.”

“Oh, my God. I would never have thought.” Mary Jo paused. “That’s hard to believe. He was so young. So the farm is still in operation?”

“Yeah, Chris Martel inherited it lock, stock, and barrel. There’ve been some major changes, and it’s a regular horse paradise now.”

“Hmm, I’ve never heard of him.”

Doc laughed. “He’s a she. I didn’t think there was another person alive who was more dedicated or knew the horses inside and out the way Bill did. But he hired Chris, took her under his wing several years back, and they ended up forming a partnership. They were close, and it was hard on Chris when he died.”

“Who’s the barn manager?” Mary Jo asked, wondering if it was someone she knew.

“Just Chris. She runs the entire operation. The community came together to help right after Bill died, but she mostly does everything herself. Sometimes she hires the neighbors’ kids to help put up hay. She has her Paint stallion there and studs him out some, but the main business is a foaling facility. People board their pregnant mares with her to foal.”

“Sounds like a good business to be in.” Curiosity steered Mary Jo to refocus her attention on reviewing the rest of the call list as they drove. Doc was right. Not much had changed. She recognized the majority of the names on the list and now one more. Chris Martel.

Chapter 3

Chris looked out the office window and stared at nothing in particular after she hung up the phone. When she rang the clinic, Donna told her she was first on Doc’s call list, so the wait wouldn’t be a long.

All three dogs were dozing on the cot. They got up when Chris rose from her chair. She left the office and strolled down the barn aisle followed closely by her four-legged companions.

She stopped at the hay room, put a bale in the wheelbarrow, and cut the twine. At each stall, she put a section of hay into the rack.

After feeding the horses, she grabbed the pitchfork and the muck bucket and started cleaning stray piles from the stalls. Whether the stalls needed cleaning or not, she fluffed the bedding. There wasn’t much mucking out to do; most of the horses kept their stalls manure-free. But her stallion, a bay and white Paint named Stetson, was the exception. She forgave him that little sin because he was well behaved and gentle with the mares.

When Chris finished checking the ten occupied stalls, she pulled the half-full cart to the end of the barn. Her back muscles complained under the weight, and she grimaced as she dumped the manure onto the pile behind the barn.

Sweat streamed down her face as the day continued to heat up. She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket, wiped the moisture from her face and neck, and ran her fingers through the damp hair that had pasted itself to her scalp.

While the horses munched their hay, she brushed each one with a soft bristle brush to remove shedding hair and dirt. All the horses seemed to enjoy the extra attention, and she found she bonded better with them. When the grooming was over, she checked to ensure all the bins were empty and no feed had dropped on the floor, since an excess of dropped feed might mean a dental problem. Although Doc checked all the horses’ teeth twice a year, she knew it wasn’t inconceivable for a horse to develop mouth sores from a sharp tooth in a short time.

In the first stall she opened, Sierra, a bay, quarter horse mare, was chewing her hay a bit tentatively, obviously attempting to keep it all on one side of her mouth.

“I may as well have Doc check you while he’s here,” Chris said.

Sierra was bred to the top Paint horse in the country, but her owners rarely saw her. Still, Chris kept them up-to-date on their horse’s condition. She preferred to operate the farm that way. In her experience, absentee owners were the easiest to manage.

Typically, a mare’s owner selected a stallion to breed with the mare, paid the breeding fee, and passed the pertinent information to Chris. When the mare went into heat, Chris requested the stallion’s sperm shipped that day to arrive first thing the next morning. Once she received the liquid-nitrogen-cooled parcel, she had Doc come to the farm to perform the artificial insemination.

Of the ten horses on the property, Chris owned two. The rest were boarded pregnant mares. These eight mares never left her farm; the owners chose to keep them there under her care for the duration of the mare’s breeding career. She already had reservations for the other fifteen stalls. Those horses were scheduled to come during the late fall or early winter, which gave them adequate time to adjust to Chris and their new surroundings before getting down to the business of having foals. Doc’s imminent arrival reminded her she needed to schedule each of the new mares for an examination to ensure they were healthy and in foal.

Cedar, Cagney, and Sadie were waiting patiently outside the stall doors. Suddenly, all three dogs jumped up and raced to the end of the barn, yipping as they ran. Chris laughed. The girls loved Doc. He was the only visitor whose arrival caused them to act like foolish puppies. She walked down toward the barn entrance just as she heard Cedar bark.

“What the heck are you barking at?” She asked the Lab, who rarely made a sound.

A dark-haired woman getting out of the passenger side of the truck piqued her curiosity. The woman appeared a little standoffish as she stood with her arms crossed over her chest. But she seemed more at ease when Doc greeted the dogs in an animated, squeaky voice.

She had a slight build and was of medium height, though the coveralls she wore made it difficult to judge her shape. Not what Chris would call scrawny, but she was attractive nonetheless. The woman glanced at Chris long enough for her to notice brown eyes.

Chris leaned against the barn door and waited for Doc to finish his play. He finally looked up and saw her. “Hey there, Doc.” She pushed herself away from the doorway. Doc came over and gave her the anticipated hug and a quick peck on the cheek. She returned the embrace and got a grunt out of him.

“Easy there, lady, I’m not as spry as I used to be,” he teased.

She ignored the mock complaint. “Oh, don’t give me that. You’re as tough as they come.”

Mary Jo stood by quietly while Chris Martel and Doc joked and laughed together. An inexplicable twinge of jealousy struck her as she listened to Chris and Doc’s teasing. Chris’s relaxed stance revealed her obvious affection for the man.

She attempted subtlety as she checked Chris out. The woman was tall and tan. Her short, dark hair accentuated high cheekbones and a strong jaw line. The loose, V-necked T-shirt showed off broad shoulders, strong arms, and a firm, flat stomach. Cargo shorts and Timberland boots accentuated muscular, well-defined legs.

Her jealousy confused her.

The friendly banter came to an end when Doc said, “I’m sorry. Mary Jo this is Chris Martel. Chris, Mary Jo Cavanaugh, my new assistant.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Chris extended her hand.

“Same here.” Mary Jo clasped Chris’s hand and briefly admired the corded muscles in her forearm. She couldn’t help but notice Chris’s deep blue eyes.

Doc and Chris continued chatting about the horses, and Mary Jo watched mesmerized as a drop of sweat started below Chris’s hairline and gradually worked its way down her temple to the back of her jaw. It eventually ran down her neck before disappearing into the hint of cleavage above the vee of her T-shirt. Mary Jo was staring, and she forced herself to look away and tune into the conversation. In her opinion, the talk proved boring. She wanted to see sick horses.

She turned around and opened the truck door. She pretended to look for the stethoscope already hanging around her neck, just to give herself something to do.

“Mary Jo just joined my practice,” Doc was saying. “As a matter of fact, today is her first day. She specialized in equine breeding at Cornell, so if we get into any pickles here, she’ll be a good asset to have around. She’ll be riding with me for a few weeks until her rig comes in. In the meantime, I’ll be introducing her to as many clients as I can.”

“Uh-huh. Personally, the less I see of your kind here, the better,” Chris said in a kidding tone.

Mary Jo felt that weird jealousy needle her again. What’s with that? She was unable to decide if she was jealous of Chris because of her familiarity with Doc or jealous of Doc because he had Chris’s entire attention focused on him—which made no sense as she’d only just met the woman. She decided she was feeling a little put out because she thought Doc should include her in the conversation. After all she was the new vet.

“All right,” Chris said. “I guess you better come in the barn and check Ruby. I think she has a stone bruise, but I’ll be damned if I can find where.” She started toward the barn before adding, “Oh, and if you have time can you check Sierra? I think she may have a tooth that needs to be filed.”

“Yup, no problem,” said Doc. “MJ, would you grab the hoof testers and hoof knife? We’ll start with those before we do anything else.” He followed Chris into the barn.

Mary Jo’s annoyance at Doc was combined with a little embarrassment for his assuming she would be his gofer. “Christ, I hope this isn’t what it’s going to be like till my frickin’ license shows up and I get my own rig,” she said to herself as she went to the truck.

Requested tools in hand, she strode into the barn and noted the impeccable cleanliness as she moved farther in. “Geez, you could eat off these floors,” she muttered. She caught sight of one of Chris’s cats eating a mouse by the hay room and added under her breath, “Then again, maybe not.”

As she walked, she noticed the stalls had bars in the front with a feed access door. Each stall had a nameplate containing information such as the name of the horse, age, breeding date, due date, vaccination dates, and owner’s name and phone number.

To the right of each door was an individual light switch. She recalled the college had similar lighting. When turned on, the light brightly lit only that particular stall, which avoided disturbing the neighboring horses.

She heard a hissing sound as a horse drank from its automatic waterer.

“Wow, this place is way nicer than when I first met Bill. They must have done well together,” she said to herself.

Mary Jo found the stall that contained the horse with the hoof problem. Chris and Doc were already inside.

“Thanks, MJ,” Doc said. He held the hoof and grunted a bit as Ruby leaned her weight on him. He took the hoof testers, which looked like big pincers, and began squeezing various points around Ruby’s foot. Clearly not detecting any soreness around the outside, he proceeded to pinch the middle of her foot. Finally Ruby jerked her foot almost infinitesimally when he pressed near the sensitive, soft, spongy area in the middle of the hoof. “The frog’s supposed to be a shock absorber for the foot, but it looks like there’s a small bruise at the tip of it.” Doc nodded at Mary Jo and traded the testers for the hoof knife. He then started paring small slices of the sole away.

As Doc worked, Chris stood at Ruby’s head and softly rubbed the horse’s forehead. Ruby closed her eyes, apparently content despite the interruption of her meal of hay.

Mary Jo was almost entranced by the quiet, soothing tone Chris used to talk to the horse.

“I’m not finding a draining tract here, Chris,” Doc said. “I think we should put a poultice on her for a couple of days and see if we can entice the infection to come out.”

“Okay. I figured it would come to that, but I wanted you to check her just in case I was missing something.”

“I’ve not known you to miss much. This one seems so small most people wouldn’t even notice it. But I’m glad to help, and it’s nice to check in, too,” Doc said as he glanced in Chris’s direction.

Mary Jo knew what Doc would prescribe for Ruby’s treatment, so she headed to the truck to retrieve the necessary items for the poultice. She placed them in a bucket and returned to the stall entrance just as Doc put down the mare’s sore hoof.

“All right, pretty girl, let’s get you feeling better.” Doc accepted the bucket from Mary Jo, his demeanor quiet as he picked up Ruby’s hoof to begin applying drawing salve, cotton, a piece of surgical drape, and most important, duct tape to wrap the entire hoof after everything was in place.

Mary Jo left Doc to work and wandered to the front of the barn to a stall that contained a big, black Thoroughbred mare. The mare stood backed into the corner. Her ears pricked forward as she bobbed her head. Her gaze seemed to follow Mary Jo’s every move. When Mary Jo began to move away, the mare stomped a hoof and regained her attention.

Mary Jo returned to the stall door and glanced at the nameplate. “Your name is Top Hat, huh, big girl?” She looked down the aisle toward Ruby’s stall. Chris and Doc were still working on Ruby and jabbering together like they hadn’t seen each other in years. She returned her concentration to the horse and assumed Top Hat wanted some attention.

She lifted the latch, eased the stall door open, and slipped inside. Top Hat continued bobbing her head. As Mary Jo reached to touch her, the mare suddenly pinned her ears back and lunged, knocking her down with a shoulder.

She landed hard, flat on her back, and screamed as the horse gnashed big yellow teeth mere inches from her face. The seemingly gentle mare had turned into a she-devil! Mary Jo quickly curled into a ball to protect her vitals. She was trapped.

She screamed again and cringed as hooves slammed perilously close to her head. To her relief, she heard boots slapping the concrete. Chris was there in seconds. She slid the door open and darted inside. She positioned herself over Mary Jo and talked in a whisper that the horse obviously understood. At once Top Hat focused her entire attention on Chris. After a few tense moments, the mare relaxed completely. Mary Jo only had a brief moment to admire the legs straddled over her.

“Get up slowly and get out of this stall,” Chris said through clenched teeth.

Mary Jo crawled to the door on all fours and finally stood when she was able to slide the door open enough to escape. Once out, she collapsed on her butt and panted with the realization that she had just escaped death.

Doc, who had followed Chris to the stall at a quick clip asked, “Are you okay?”

Mary Jo was still trying to catch her breath but managed to stammer, “I… I think so.”

Chris stormed out of the stall and closed the door behind her. “Jesus H. Christ, are you fucking crazy? You never, ever go into a stall without me. You had no right to go in there, and you were completely out of line.” Although she wasn’t shouting, she managed to deliver the message loud and clear. Her eyes were full of fire as she stared at Mary Jo.

Mary Jo mumbled an apology. She got up, brushed shavings off her coveralls, and marched toward the barn door. Chris continued talking in a heated tone, but the words were unintelligible.

What the hell happened in there? Mary Jo hadn’t done anything to antagonize the horse. She had felt competent enough to approach the mare. “Bitch,” she said under her breath. After a moment of thought, she began to doubt herself. Could she have been disillusioned enough to think she could approach any animal and have them respond to her? Maybe she’d gone in there just a little too cocky.

She returned to the truck to wait for Doc.

Chris stared at Doc. “What the hell kind of help you hiring, Doc?”

“Now, Chris, calm down. You know that mare is mostly bluff, and both of them are fine.” Doc put a hand on Chris’s shoulder. “She made a mistake. All rookie vets do it. I’d be willing to bet she never pulls something like that again.”

Chris glared at him. “That’s beside the point. That mare’s foal is worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. If the owners found out a stunt like that caused her to miscarry, I could lose a lot of clients.”

“Chris, Top Hat is fine. Look at her. She’s eating her hay like nothing happened,” he said. “I’ll go check on MJ and get my mouth speculum and file for Sierra. I’ll meet you at her stall.”

By force of habit, Chris looked for the dogs. She knew they sensed her anxiety because both Labs walked over and took places on either side of her. She knelt down and buried her face in Cedar’s neck. She hugged them both tightly until her pulse slowed. “You beasties are such good therapy,” she said. She rose and patted them both.

By the time she got to Sierra’s stall, Doc had returned from the truck with his tools. “MJ’s fine in case you were wondering,” he said.

Chris ignored him. She grabbed a lead rope and went into the mare’s stall. Talking in a quiet tone, she slung the rope around Sierra’s neck and led her into the aisle.

Doc put on a lighted headlamp. Gently putting his hand into the side of Sierra’s mouth, he grabbed her tongue and pulled it out to the side. This caused her to open her mouth without any danger of her biting him. He reached in and felt the surfaces of the horse’s teeth. He withdrew his hand, adjusted his headlight, and peered into her mouth to check for ulcers.

“She has one little point back there on the right,” he told Chris. “She does have a fresh ulcer, too, so I think she may have just done that. You were fortunate to catch it at the right time. Many horses don’t even react to small ulcers. They simply heal, and the owner never knows there was a problem until the horse’s teeth are checked.”

“Good.” Chris’s hand never left Sierra’s neck. “You can work your magic on her, and she’ll be all the better then.”

Doc said quietly, “You were a little hard on her, you know.”

“Oh, please,” Chris answered. “If that performance was any indication, your new vet has a lot to learn about being around these guys.”

“MJ is still green. She hasn’t yet honed the instincts that you take for granted every day. She would do well to learn from you.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m still mad about what happened.” But some of Chris’s anger had already dissipated. Doc’s calm demeanor, in addition to the calming energy her dogs had given her earlier, helped to ease her upset.

“Uh-huh, sure you are. I remember a time two years ago when you were at the mercy of that very horse.” Doc gave Chris a knowing look.

Despite the embarrassment and anxiety she’d felt at the time, Chris couldn’t help laughing at the memory.

The day Top Hat had arrived on the farm, Chris had gone into the mare’s stall to remove her shipping leg wraps. The mare charged her and held her hostage in the corner for what seemed like hours until Chris remembered the treats in her pocket. She’d tossed one into Top Hat’s feed bucket and the others to different parts of her stall. While the horse was preoccupied, Chris had slipped quietly out of the stall.

“I suppose I could go and talk to Mary Jo.”

Doc grinned. “That would be nice.”

*   *   *

Mary Jo’s heart finally slowed to normal. She had stomped out of the barn humiliated and angry at herself and at Chris. “She must be crazy keeping a horse like that in her barn. That horse must have great bloodlines for her to keep breeding the bitch.” She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the truck.

She felt something against her leg and looked down. Chris’s Jack Russell stared at her with a ball in its mouth. The terrier wagged its stumpy tail in anticipation as she waited for Mary Jo to catch on and throw the ball. The dog impatiently pawed Mary Jo’s leg again to get her attention.

“Okay, little one,” she said. “Give me the ball.”

The terrier dropped the ball and tensed up to run after it when Mary Jo picked it up. She tossed the ball away, and the little dog scurried after it.

“That’s Sadie’s favorite game.”

Mary Jo started. She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she hadn’t heard Chris come up behind her. Her body involuntarily stiffened as she turned to see Chris leaning against the barn door. Mary Jo stood up straight, and her shirt stuck to her sweaty torso. The temperature was already in the eighties with barely a breeze. She felt like perspiration and embarrassment were radiating from her body. Based on the squint of Chris’s eyes, Mary Jo knew the woman was reading her like one of the horses. A stream of sweat ran between her shoulder blades.

“I guess I was a little harsh in there,” Chris said.

“You think?” Mary Jo replied. “Between you and that horse, I’m not sure who I was more scared of, or which one was nastier.”

Chris pointed a finger at her and snapped, “You had no business going into that stall.” She raised her shoulders. “And you have no right to be sarcastic, let alone stand there with a righteous attitude.”

“I seriously don’t want to talk to you about it. I said I was sorry.” Annoyed, Mary Jo turned her head. She didn’t want to look at Chris. She wanted to stay angry. She knew she was being unprofessional and immature, but she was being forced to eat humble pie and she didn’t like it one bit.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Chris shrug, turn around, and walk back into the barn. Mary Jo overheard her parting shot, “The hell with her, let’s hope I don’t have any reason to need her back.” Chris scooped Sadie up just before she disappeared into the barn.

Mary Jo stayed at the truck and was happy to see Doc come out a short time later.

“Ready?” he asked.

She took a deep breath and nodded in reply. She got into the truck and let herself finally relax as Doc started down the drive.

“Chris come out and talk to you?” he asked.

“Yeah, talk.” Mary Jo snorted. “She’s as personable as that bitch mare. And don’t act all innocent. You probably sent her out. I can’t imagine she’d do that without a push.”

“Now, now, I told you, Chris is Chris. She doesn’t socialize with anybody that I know of. Since Bill died anyway. She’s a loner, and her animals are her family. You can’t blame her for being a little protective of the horses.” He glanced her way and added, “Playing vet in school is completely different than what we do out here, MJ. Remember, our clients are the mainstay of our practice. We have to treat them and their horses with the utmost respect, no matter how infuriating or belittling they may be to us. They depend on us as professionals to assist them in times of need, no matter if it’s for routine injections or major surgery. We can’t afford to be cocky. That only gets us into trouble.”

“Guess I didn’t make a good impression on the first client you introduced me to.” Mary Jo glanced at him sideways and frowned sheepishly. Without pointing a finger at her mistakes, Doc had managed his own version of a reprimand. One she’d have to take to heart if she wanted to succeed in this business.

Doc’s voice brought her to attention. “There’s always that one horse that scares the living shit out of you. At least you got that over with.” He reached over to pat her shoulder.

“Surely that hasn’t happened to you. I’ve seen you work on horses that I wouldn’t have even thought of touching without a tranquilizer,” Mary Jo said in disbelief.

“Do you remember Scheller’s Appaloosa, Cinnamon? She was that horse for me. She charged me, stepped on, kicked, and bit me every chance she got. I broke four ribs and an ankle one time from her slamming me into the wall.” Doc tapped the side of his chest.

“But getting back to Chris. In all honesty,” Doc said, “she’s probably the hardest of my clients to impress and the most difficult to get to know. I know very little about her past except that she was a runaway. I only found that out after a long night of foaling.”

He stopped the truck at the end of the driveway and checked for traffic. Finding the way clear, he drove on. “She had two mares start to foal in the middle of the night one year. One delivered twins, and both of them died. Chris was heartbroken. I don’t think she would have normally broken down, but it had been a long night and she was exhausted. We had a couple of beers, and she talked a little about Bill and how she’d come to know him. Mostly how she missed him.”

“God, I hope she doesn’t tell the world about what an ass I made of myself.” Mary Jo was suddenly worried.

“Don’t be too concerned. Chris Martel has a lot of class. She’s not one to spread gossip.”

Mary Jo stared out the side window. Doc had given her a lot to think about. She absently raised her hand to her neck. “Shit! I think I dropped my stethoscope in that horse’s stall.”

“You want to go back to get it?”

“No way! I have a spare I can use until we have to come out here again.”

Doc’s laughter echoed in the truck’s cab as he drove down the road.

After leaving Went Farm, she and Doc had a call to look at a tendon injury on an Arabian. Shortly afterward, they did pregnancy checks at a barn full of Morgan horses.

Two-and-a-half hours later, as they prepared for the next farm on the list, Donna called with an emergency colic in the adjoining county to the south. Fortunately the patient was a young horse with mild gas colic. From her training, Mary Jo knew young horses tended to be big babies when they experienced belly pain for the first time. A shot of Banamine, a pain reliever, gave the colt quick relief.

She and Doc drove forty-three miles before arriving at their next call, a nasty heel cut on a polo pony. In addition to treating several more minor injuries, they visited four more barns, each close to an hour apart, to administer fall vaccines. The last call took place at a hunter/jumper barn where fourteen horses needed examinations for health certificates. They administered another round of vaccines to enable the horses to cross the various state lines and go on to the Florida jumping circuit the following week.

When they returned to the clinic at seven o’clock that evening, Mary Jo helped Doc unload blood samples, the X-ray machine, and the dental tools. Although thoroughly exhausted, she restocked the truck despite Doc’s urging to go home. She ignored her grumbling stomach and complaining muscles, figuring doing the work now would help her learn how she wanted to stock her own rig when the time came.

She and Doc checked the hospitalized horse to make sure the bandage remained secure and the gelding comfortable. Donna had already cleaned his stall, fed, and watered him, so there was little else to do.

Doc thanked her for a good day’s work and sent her home. With no disagreement this time, she stiffly got into her truck and began the drive to her apartment. As she passed the local food mart, she remembered that aside from a six-pack of beer and a bottle of wine, her fridge was as barren as her cupboards. She slowed, turned around in a convenient driveway, picked up what she needed at the store, and returned to the road.

Driving with her right hand on the wheel and the other hanging out the window, she reviewed the day’s work. She thought she’d done well. Doc had introduced her to several clients, and they all had seemed very willing to accept her into their barns. He’d even consulted with her on numerous occasions and allowed her to vocally practice the medicine she’d spent so many years learning.

Unbidden, her thoughts turned to Chris Martel. Why did things go so badly at the Went Farm? Okay, it was a dumb move, going into that stall. Despite the tension between the two of them, Mary Jo couldn’t seem to stop thinking about Chris. She was completely intrigued at how her eyes had turned so many shades of blue and how difficult it was to keep from staring at her.

“Just stop it,” Mary Jo muttered. “You don’t even know if she’s gay, and why would you even be attracted to someone like her? You’d have to be crazy.” Though the weird jealousy still disturbed her, she shrugged off the feeling as first-time jitters. “She’ll probably never let me on her farm again anyway.”

Mary Jo arrived home and unloaded the truck. She trudged upstairs to her apartment above a garage, and in her attempt to open the door, dropped her keys twice and the groceries once. She didn’t even bother cursing as she gave in to her weary clumsiness. She put the grocery bags on the floor and, with a sigh and both hands free, turned the key and pushed at the same time. The door opened, and she went inside the hot, stuffy apartment.

She promptly raised the windows to let in some fresh air and walked into the bedroom, shedding boots and clothes as she went. Her only thought was taking a hot shower.

An involuntary groan escaped her as the steaming spray washed away the day’s dirt, sweat, and horsehair and eased her aching muscles. She stood under the water until the temperature ran tepid and then got out. She toweled her hair partially dry and considered it sufficient.

Although it was still fairly early in the evening, she decided to lie on the bed for just a few minutes to give her back and legs a rest. She would fix herself some supper after that. Her eyes closed as she relaxed, and in a minute she was sound asleep.

Chapter 4

Chris sat at her office desk trying to concentrate on updating the horses’ medical records. The ceiling fan rotated rapidly, but it only stirred up dust and moved heated air around the room. The dogs lay on the floor panting in their sleep. Although the room had an air-conditioning unit, she had opted to leave it off unless the room got unbearably hot. At the moment the temperature wasn’t far from oppressive.

“She’s got nerve being mad at me.” Chris was still irritated. “She’s the damned idiot who decided to saunter into the stall.” She recalled the moment and grinned. “Old Mad Hattie sure scared the crap out of her though. Serves her right.”

Chris finished the entry in Sierra’s file and announced to the dogs, “All right, let’s go swimming.” The dogs jumped up and sped out the door before she stood up from her chair. She chuckled as she followed them outside.

Her three companions trotted in front of her. The high grass on either side fairly often hid them from view as they followed a trail leading beyond the pastures. The dogs broke into a run when they reached the edge of the tree line, on their way to a five-acre, spring-fed pond where the water was cool even on the hottest days.

Chris ambled along the path that Bill had once told her was a former logging trail that wound through old-growth hemlock and oak trees. Someone had logged the back hundred acres of cherry, beech, and maple trees before Bill owned the farm. By the middle of next month, the daily visits of Chris and the dogs would wear the path down to dirt, except where fallen pine needles and leaves remained underfoot.

A woodpecker’s busy sound as well as the mew of a catbird accompanied her as she followed the path.

She heard the dogs splashing in the water even before she walked out of the pines near the pond and caught sight of them. Cedar and Cagney had found a favorite stick and were playing keep-away in the shallows. Laughing at their antics, Chris stripped off her clothes and boots and dove into the pond from the old barrel dock.

She swam out to the middle and called Cagney and Cedar to follow. She didn’t expect Sadie to join them, as she’d noticed her trying to catch a frog in a few cattails lining the rim of the pond.

When the Labs were about ten feet from her, she dove underwater and swam beneath them. After she resurfaced behind the dogs, she giggled quietly, shook her head, and wiped water from her eyes as the dogs tried to catch her again. She and the Labs played this game every time they visited the pond.

Once they tired of trying to catch Chris, the dogs swam to shore and sniffed around the edge. She floated over an underground artesian spring and relished the cool water that slipped over her body. She couldn’t imagine having to wear a bathing suit or swim in water that reeked of chlorine and God knows what else.

Chris swam to the pond’s edge, stood, and delighted in the coolness, but knew the sensation would only be temporary. She got out of the water and lay naked in the grass with her hands behind her head and her eyes closed. It wasn’t long before the sun warmed her completely and dried the drops of water clinging to her skin. A slight breeze moving through the trees brought to her the scents of pine and musky leaves.

She stretched her muscles, relaxed, and started to doze even when the dogs eventually tired of playing in the water and came to rest next to her.

An hour passed before she opened her eyes and got dressed. “All right,” she said, giving in to the thought of impending chores with a sigh. “Let’s head back.”

She toyed with the idea of going into the city as she and the dogs made their way down the path. She would see how she felt after chores.

Refreshed from her swim, she returned to the barn. The dogs went into the office to their beds. They circled several times, curled up, and fell asleep while she headed to Stetson’s stall. The Paint stallion had been dozing, but he woke when she entered his stall carrying his halter.

“Hey, big guy, want to come out and do some work?” She closed the door behind her and approached him.

The horse perked up his ears as Chris talked to him and put the halter over his head. She led him out to the cross ties adjacent to the tack room, snapped a nylon strap to either side of his halter, and left him standing in the middle of the aisle. She pulled a currycomb from her grooming bucket and began making circles on his hide. Stetson cocked a hind leg and relaxed as she massaged him with the brushes.

She loved the horse dearly. When Stetson was four months old, Bill had presented the colt to her as a surprise to celebrate their third year together. Since Stetson was a stallion, she made sure to give him hands-on attention every day. She had trained him to work in the round pen, using slight signals of her body to encourage cooperation and trust, and eventually got the big horse to accept her on his back without much fuss.

Chris went to the tack room, pulled on leather chaps over her shorts, and grabbed the bridle and saddle. She worked efficiently and had Stetson tacked up within minutes. She led him to the indoor riding ring, mounted, and began putting him through a memorized exercise pattern. She started him at the walk, asking him to flex his neck to either side and bend his body around her leg.

After ten minutes, and based on his flexibility, she had sufficiently warmed him up. She pushed him into a trot and repeated the same exercises. As he relaxed more, she squeezed with her thighs. He began a nice, ground-covering trot. At this point, she and Stetson were both sweating. She urged him into a slow canter and rode in wide circles that grew gradually smaller and then widened again. When they were both breathing hard, she slowed the stallion to a walk for ten minutes, dismounted, and led him back to the cross ties.

Chris removed the saddle and bridle and set about hosing the sweat off Stetson. A few minutes later, a clean, wet horse stood in front of her. Once he cooled down, she led him back to his stall. He immediately dropped into his bedding and rolled with great pleasure after she released him. He stood and took a long drink of water. After glancing at her, he turned and walked out into his pasture.

The oppressive heat was finally giving way to an evening breeze when Chris finished her chores and checked on Ruby and Sierra. Satisfied, she turned toward the house.

The large, white, two-storied house shadowed the driveway as the sun sank in the west. Built in the 1800s, the rooms had been small and the ceilings low until shortly after she moved in with Bill. He decided to put on an addition, tear down walls, and make the floor plan more open. He had lived by “the bigger, the better” motto.

There were now three bathrooms, one on the first floor and two on the second. She’d closed Bill’s bedroom and bathroom after his death and rarely entered either room. She missed him every time she passed those doors.

During the remodeling, Bill had allowed Chris to design her own bedroom, which was located at the back of the house. The room had a door to an outside balcony, as well as floor-to-ceiling windows on two sides. She loved waking to the sound of birds and feeling the breeze blowing past the curtains. As she lay on her king-sized bed at night, she’d watch for shooting stars and listen to the hooting of owls or yipping of coyotes. Most of the time, she had room to stretch out without accidentally bumping or kicking a dog.

Calling the girls, she opened the back door to the mudroom and walked in behind them as they trotted through. She took her boots off and emptied her pockets of a knife, horse treats, and a wad of cotton from Ruby’s poultice. “Huh, don’t remember stuffing that in there,” she said aloud. “Oh, that was just about the time Wonder Girl decided to get herself in trouble.”

Chris opened a bottle of beer, took a pull, and let the cool liquid wash over her tongue and down her throat. After dishing out the dogs’ food, she left them to eat in the kitchen while she went upstairs to shower.

Afterward as she finished her beer she thought about what to wear. She finally decided on blue jeans and a tight black T-shirt. She evaluated her choices as she stood in front of the mirror. The shirt pressed snugly against her breasts and accentuated her firm stomach. Her tanned face and bright eyes alleviated the need for makeup. She did, however, place a few drops of patchouli oil on her wrists and between her breasts. Before zipping up her pants, she dribbled a line of oil right below her belly button to just above her black pubic curls. Some hand lotion to soften her calluses, and she was finished and ready to hit the road.

A low thrum of excitement began in her belly and continued southward. Her work normally clouded thoughts of sex, often leaving her too tired to even use her own fingers to take care of business. But tonight she hoped someone else might suit her need.

Satisfied with her appearance, she trotted down the stairs. The dogs had licked their bowls clean, so she picked them up and returned them to the shelf in the mudroom.

“Okay girls, you’re in charge tonight,” she said. “No ordering out for pizza or calling the 1-900 line again. I’ll be home later.” She grabbed her keys from the counter and walked out the door.

She drove Bill’s old Ford Taurus. The need for discretion prevented her from driving her truck into the city as it had the farm’s name and logo on it. As she drove, she listened to a Melissa Etheridge CD and hummed along to the music.

She remembered when Bill had convinced her to go to the lesbian bar in Rochester, where to her surprise, he’d been welcome. She’d been a nervous wreck. There were too many women too close to her, and Bill had mischievously slipped away a couple of times. She could’ve wrung his neck for that alone.

Chris chuckled as she recalled getting laid in the bathroom for the first time ever. That event was all the enticement she’d needed to keep returning to Angie’s Bar.

*   *   *

The miles to Rochester passed quickly. Before she knew it she’d arrived at Angie’s Bar. She parked behind the old brick building close to the main entrance. A door in the front made it resemble an average bar.

Two burly bouncers stood at the entrance; the men had orders to turn away people on the premise that the building’s occupancy had reached its limit. The bouncers also directed the lesbians who frequented the bar to the rear entrance. The practice kept everyone safe and ensured the patrons’ anonymity remained intact.

It had been a few months since Chris had been here. She’d been too busy with breeding, foaling, putting up hay, training, and other projects that kept her occupied and devoid of energy. Although she was tired, that morning’s events still had her keyed up and she was ready to blow off a little steam.

She could feel the deep bass of the music pounding in her ears and chest as she slipped through the door. The lights were low and pulsing, and a few couples were dancing closely. She walked up to the bar where a large tattooed woman stood mixing drinks and pulling beer from the taps.

The woman’s hair was short and shaved to her scalp. A light chain dangled from her left earlobe to her studded neck collar. Several rings glinted on her fingers, and a multitude of bracelets jangled from her wrist as she wiped the bar. Her piercing brown gaze constantly swept over the establishment, making sure everyone stayed within the boundaries.

“Hi, Angie.” Chris sat down on a bar stool and yanked a five dollar bill from her pocket.

“C-Breeze! Welcome back, beautiful,” Angie yelled over the music. “It’s been awhile. Where’ve you been?” She poured Chris a beer from the tap, placed the glass in front of her, and took the bill at the same time.

Chris nodded her thanks. Angie had given her the nickname “Breeze” shortly after she began coming to the bar, commenting that she was like a breath of fresh air. Anonymity was very important to Angie’s patrons, therefore nicknames were the only form of recognition used.

“Working, mostly,” Chris replied, shrugging. She took a long drink and looked around, careful not to stare at the couples along the dark walls.

“The girls have been asking about you.” Angie leaned over the bar to be heard. She let out a suggestive chuckle that revealed uneven teeth.

Suddenly Chris felt warm breath on her ear. Ample breasts pressed against her back. Cool hands rubbed circles on her shoulders before making a long, sensuous trip down her arms.

“Hello, lover,” said a low, female voice. Her breath smelled of beer.

Chris recognized the voice as Sky’s, a woman she knew from previous encounters—a tall redhead with amazing green eyes. She was a bit plump but not what Chris would call fat. Her round face and slightly slanted eyes made her incredibly seductive.

Sky was always attentive and good to Chris. She was also exceptionally skilled with her hands. Just thinking about what Sky could, and hopefully would, do with them, sent a shiver down Chris’s spine that went straight to her crotch.

“Hey, Sky. How’re you?”

“Much better now that you’re here, sweetness. Want some dark time?”

“Yeah.” Without a glance at Sky, Chris finished her beer and got up from the stool. She walked to one of the darker walls to find a private place to stand. As she turned around, Sky leaned into her. She was pushed against the wall and felt something pressed between her lips. A pill.

She swatted the hand away and wiped her lips. “What the hell, Sky?”

“Come on, Breeze, it’s just a little E. It’ll make it so much better.”

“No. I don’t do that shit. You know that.” Chris turned her head to the side.

“If you’ve never done it, you don’t know how good it’ll make you feel. It keeps me going for a really long time.”

“Damn it, no. Can’t you just forget about it?” Chris took hold of Sky’s wrist and held it until she felt the woman relax.

“Fuck, Breeze, you could try something new once in a while. Fine. One of these days I’ll get you to do it.” Sky pressed her lips against Chris’s neck and then flicked her tongue to Chris’s earlobe. She licked her way along Chris’s jaw line before attempting to claim her lips.

Chris turned her head to the side again. “I don’t do that either, Sky. How many times do I have to tell you?” She never allowed anyone to kiss her on the lips. She believed kissing was an intimate gesture, too intimate for the casual sexual pleasure she sought in the bar.

“Can’t fault a girl for trying,” Sky whispered.

Chris closed her eyes and relaxed, happy the drug and kissing issues had passed. Sky’s hands rubbed her arms, once again sending chills up and down her body. She gripped Sky’s shoulders when she felt her T-shirt lifted up to expose her breasts and stomach.

Sky leaned down and teased Chris’s nipple erect with her tongue, circling her other nipple between two fingers while Chris gasped and moaned. Her legs went weak when Sky cupped her breast and gently squeezed the soft flesh. Sky continued to suckle her nipple while at the same time releasing her other breast to undo her jeans.

Once Chris’s pants were unfastened, Sky returned to kneading and squeezing her breast. Chris leaned against the wall for support, and her breath quickened in anticipation as Sky’s skillful hands flitted over her stomach and came to rest on her hips.

Chris grabbed the back of Sky’s head and pulled Sky’s mouth tighter to her breast. Her breath quickened as she took hold of Sky’s hand and slid it to the wetness between her legs. Her heart beat in time with the fast music as Sky’s palm pushed against her.

“Go inside me,” Chris whispered and gasped when Sky did as ordered. Her instincts took over. She thrust her hips forward in a mute demand for more.

Sky pushed her fingers inside, and her thumb began a slow, circular motion against Chris’s swollen clit. “Oh, babe, you are so beautiful,” she whispered.

Chris began her gradual rise to climax and pulled Sky closer. The orgasm came too quickly and left her breathless. Her legs buckled. If not for Sky pressing tightly against her, she would have fallen to the floor.

“Oh, baby, it’s been way too long,” Sky murmured against Chris’s shoulder.

“Yeah, it has.” Still trying to catch her breath, Chris slowly opened her eyes and found she was able to focus on her surroundings. “Thanks. That was amazing as always.”

“Why don’t you take me home with you sometime?” Sky said close to Chris’s ear. “We could play for hours, you, and me.”

“You know I don’t ever take anybody home with me.” Chris zipped up her jeans, tucked in her T-shirt, and abruptly turned back toward the bar.

“I know. I just want you all to myself,” Sky said between the heavy beat of a bass line. But she left Chris alone, apparently having spotted someone on the far side of the room.

Chris felt uncomfortable with Sky wanting her to do drugs. The thought of using them and losing control of her own body was not an experiment she was willing to make. She didn’t want Sky to do drugs while she was with her, either. But what could she do? Sky’s body; Sky’s choice.

Still, the woman was unpredictable and sometimes volatile even without the influence of drugs. Chris decided she would have to watch her step around Sky to ensure she didn’t do anything stupid like sneak illegal drugs into Chris’s beer.

She noticed other women checking her out while she sat chatting with Angie and drinking another beer. She turned down several invitations from various other women before emptying the glass. She got up from the stool, bid Angie goodnight, and walked out the door.

Chris drove home alone, satiated. Sky had been right about one thing… it had been a long time.

Chapter 5

Chris fought the urge to go back to sleep and slowly opened her eyes. A glance at the alarm clock revealed she’d woken up at her usual time. Still a bit tired from her late night in Rochester, she flung back the covers. She sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed her face.

Ignoring the pile of smelly clothes on the floor, she shuffled to her closet, glad she’d taken the time to shower off the odors of stale smoke and beer before she’d gone to bed last night. She pulled on clean cargo shorts and a light blue shirt and joined the dogs downstairs.

While coffee brewed and the dogs ate their breakfast, Chris yawned, closed her eyes, and waited until the clanking of dog bowls stopped. She poured hot coffee into a travel mug and sipped it black. The caffeine began to kick in as she grabbed her boots and followed the dogs outside.

Bird song filled the air as they walked to the barn. The humidity had lessened, and the temperature promised to be cooler than the past few days.

Unfortunately, according to the weather report she’d heard on the way home last night, the threat of rain still remained. “We’re either going to have to grow a set of gills or I’m going to start building an ark,” Chris said to the dogs. All three looked at her as if in agreement. The Labs seemed like they were smiling as they panted, while Sadie darted into the barn, possibly searching for tasty morsels left behind by the cats.

Chris walked inside and found the horses waiting impatiently for her as usual. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming. It’s not that you guys don’t have any grass in your pastures.” She walked into the feed room and called out, “And based on all the ribs that aren’t showing, I can see you’re all starving, too.”

She dished out the feed and followed it with the hay. As she passed Ruby’s stall, she glanced at the mare to make sure the poultice remained securely on her foot. She also noted Sierra seemed to be eating normally again.

After she finished with the feeding, Chris grabbed the muck bucket and fork. Top Hat’s stall was the first she entered. The horse had slept lying down during the night, so Chris fluffed her bedding. As she moved the fork around, something clinked against it.

“What the…?” Chris reached into the sawdust and pulled out a stethoscope. Top Hat watched intently as she chewed her hay. “Dingbat must have dropped this while you were terrorizing her, you vicious beastie, you.” She slipped the bell deep into her pocket and let the rest dangle. She would drop the stethoscope off at Doc’s office on her way to the feed mill.

Muck bucket dumped and all tools stashed, Chris headed to the house. She found the dogs already sitting by the truck.

“You girls think you’re so smart.” She laughed, amused at their anticipation. “I’ll be back in a minute.” She went into the house to get her keys and wallet. As an afterthought, she refilled her travel mug with coffee and headed out to the truck. She needed to be wide-awake this morning.

She sipped the hot, bitter coffee as she opened the crew cab door and waited while the dogs jumped in. All three settled and were asleep before she made the turn onto the main road. She headed for the feed mill to pick up pre-ordered grain for her usual Thursday morning “date” with her neighbor, Frances Cook.

The eighty-one-year-old woman had a few old Thoroughbreds that she and her late husband had rescued several years ago. Frances believed in feeding her horses freshly milled grain and only kept a week’s supply on hand. In addition to picking up the grain for her, Chris did odd jobs around the farm and sometimes joined her on a ride in her Gator to check the fence lines, usually making repairs as they went.

Frances kept company with a Blue Heeler dog named Daisy that loved running through the fields chasing rabbits and hunting for mice with Sadie, Cagney, and Cedar while the women chatted and worked. Chris not only enjoyed the company, but Frances reminded her of the grandmother she’d left behind so long ago.

After finishing her business at the feed mill, Chris headed to Doc’s. She turned into the clinic drive and noticed a Ranger truck parked next to the building. A small, faded, rainbow sticker was affixed to the truck’s rear bumper. She briefly wondered who owned the vehicle.

Donna was on the phone when Chris opened the door, but otherwise the office seemed empty. Doc’s vet truck was already gone, which came as a relief. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to see Mary Jo so soon after their less-than-enjoyable first meeting.

While Chris stood waiting for Donna to end her call, a casual glimpse through the open door to the area where Doc Hall kept hospitalized horses revealed a horse pacing back and forth in its stall. A glance in Donna’s direction assured her she had time to walk over and check out the horse.

“Hey, big guy,” Chris said, ambling over to the stall. “What’s making you so antsy?” The horse stopped pacing and came closer to the front of its stall. She saw it was a gelding as he poked his nose through the metal bars. She touched him with the back of her hand, reached through, and slowly stroked the side of his face. As she continued talking quietly to him, the big horse sighed in response, and rested a hind leg to stand completely relaxed.

“You sure have a way with horses,” a familiar voice said from the doorway.

“Hi, Donna. I hope you don’t mind me being in here. He was running back and forth, and I didn’t want him to hurt himself.” Chris continued the light petting and watched with satisfaction as the horse’s eyes grew soft.

“Please, I wish you could be here every time a Nervous Nelly comes in. This guy will be going home in a couple of days, and I think he knows it. Anyway, what brings you here? Richard and MJ had to head out to an emergency. He’ll be sorry he missed you.”

An amused grin lifted the corner of Chris’s mouth. So the truck outside does belong to the new vet. “That’s okay. I just wanted to drop this off.” She pulled the stethoscope from her pocket and handed it to Donna. “I found it in one of my stalls. Doctor Cavanaugh must have dropped it and not realized it.”

Donna laughed. “Oh, Richard told me she figured out she’d lost it when they were heading down the road from your farm. He told me what happened. I think she was too scared to ask Richard to turn around and get it. Is everything okay?”

It didn’t bother Chris that Doc had told Donna about yesterday’s events. Those two knew the most important things in her life were her dogs and the horses in her care.

“Oh, God, yeah. I can’t help being overly protective sometimes. If you would, tell her to stop by sometime, and I’ll show her around to try and make it up to her.” Still grinning, she added, “Although I doubt Hattie will accept her. You know how she is.”

“I’m sure Mary Jo would appreciate that. Thank you. I’ll see that she gets this.” Donna juggled the instrument in her hand, before sticking it into her smock pocket.

“Thanks, Donna.” Chris gave the horse a last pat and headed toward the door. “It’s great to see you again.”

“Same here, Chris. You take care, now.”

Chris got into her truck and drove the last few miles to Frances’s farm. Just as she pulled into the driveway, Daisy ran to greet the truck. Chris braked to a stop.

“Looking for a ride, little missy?” Daisy barked once, so Chris opened the truck door to allow the dog to jump up and over her lap. Daisy rode shotgun the rest of the way down the drive, looking straight ahead as if directing her to the house. Chris’s dogs were mindful of their manners and waited anxiously in the back.

Chris brought the truck to a stop in front of the barn. She got out and let the dogs pile out to run and play. She reached back in, grabbed her empty coffee mug, and sauntered to the porch where Frances waited for her.

“Good morning, Frances,” Chris said, always happy to see her friend. She walked up the three steps to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Good morning back at you,” Frances said, laughing. “I swear Daisy knows what day it is. She no sooner finished her breakfast when she went hightailing it down the driveway to wait for you. Come on in, I have a fresh pot brewed.” She led the way into the house, turning back to say, “Unless you want a Bloody Mary to cure that Wednesday night hangover.”

Chris smiled. Frances knew about her secret trips to the bar in Rochester. “I think I’m good this morning, thanks. I only had a couple beers last night.” Her smile broadened at the memory of what else she had gotten at the bar. She followed Frances into the kitchen, which smelled of freshly baked scones and bacon.

“Well, sit down, hon, and eat up,” Frances said. “We have some fence to replace down by the stream. That gulley-washer the other day took about thirty feet with it.” She had already set the table in anticipation of Chris’s arrival. From the stove, she brought a dish of scrambled eggs and a plate of bacon, as well as scones still warm from the oven. The aromas made Chris’s mouth water.

Chris eagerly filled her plate with a scone, a handful of bacon, and scoops of cheesy eggs. Frances refilled both their coffee mugs and sat down to watch as Chris attacked her breakfast.

“My Lord, girl,” Frances said, “don’t you ever eat? You’re skinny as a rail. I don’t know how you manage to do all that work by yourself.” It was the same lecture Frances gave Chris every Thursday morning, so it came as no surprise when she added, “And I wish you wouldn’t go carousing at that bar all the time.”

“Frances, we’ve had this discussion before. I need to go out and have a few beers sometimes,” Chris replied through a mouthful of scone.

“I think you should try to find a woman to stay at home with.” Frances cocked her head to the side. “I only want you to be happy, dear. And safe, too. I didn’t worry so much when our dear Bill was alive and went with you.”

Frances had known Bill well, and it hadn’t taken her long to put two-and-two together and figure out that Chris was a lesbian, and that she and Bill went to gay bars. Frances never minded their lifestyle, making Chris wonder if the old woman had a gay family member no one ever talked about. But she was too polite to ask.

“I’m fine by myself. Plus, I don’t think I’ll ever find a woman who would understand me and want to be around all my beasties for any length of time.” After a moment’s thought, Chris added, “Much less permanently.”

“Well, you know there’s a new lady vet in town.” Frances’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “I heard she’s a cutie.”

“Uh-huh, we’ve already met.” Chris pushed her plate away and took a gulp of coffee. She stood up and headed toward the door. “We should get going if you want all of your fencing back up today.”

“I get the feeling that you’re avoiding talking about her.”

“Nope, there’s nothing to talk about. Now come on, the dogs are waiting.”

“Land sakes alive, you can’t sit still for a single minute. All right, let me get my boots.” Frances got up from her chair, stuck the dishes in the sink, and walked to a bench beside the door. She pulled her boots on as Chris stared absently out the screen door. “Chris, if you’re tired today, we can fix the fence another day.”

Chris turned to face Frances. “I’m fine, really. This heat sometimes wears me down a little, but after a breakfast like that, I’m raring to go.” She knew Frances worried about her. While she appreciated the concern, she thought it was mostly due to having no one else around.

Frances finished lacing her boots and got up. “Okay, let’s go. Time’s a-wasting.” She grabbed a couple of bottles of water from a shelf next to the door.

Chris walked to the barn with Frances and unloaded the grain. The dogs lay together in the dirt drive, panting from their play.

Frances started the Gator and drove the machine to the front of the barn. She went into the shop and grabbed the tool duffel bag. Chris soon joined her to help gather the tools they would need for the job ahead.

Chris threw the filled duffel into the back of the Gator along with extra posts, a shovel, chainsaw, bar oil, and gas. Satisfied she had everything they would need, she hopped up next to Frances who headed the Gator into the fields. The dogs trotted lazily behind them with their tongues lolling.

Two old Thoroughbreds followed the Gator. After grazing nearby for a while, the horses found a huge oak tree to stand under. The tree’s canopy was so dense with leaves not a single ray of sunlight penetrated down to the resting Thoroughbreds. With their eyes at half-mast and their lips drooping, the only movement from the horses was an occasional swish of a tail.

A wide, slate bottomed creek meandered through the pasture. Because of the heat and the recent rains, clay and algae slicked the shallows and sides. Chris saw no sign of the fence that the raging storm water had pulled free from the posts on either side. She shoved a pair of fencing pliers in her back pocket and hoisted a roll of wire onto her shoulder. She slid down the bank and waded to the other side, barely able to keep her balance on the slippery bottom.

“Frances, you better sit there and let me fix this. It’s dicey walking through here,” she called. Her foot suddenly slid out from under her. She yipped, fighting to keep upright. “That was close.”

“Careful, Chris.”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry.” Chris got to the other side without further incident and examined the damage. “It’s not too bad,” she called back. Using the fencing pliers, she began pulling staples and prepared the remaining fence for connection to the roll of wire she had brought along. She paused a moment to look across the water at Frances, who had walked away to give her horses some treats and affection.

The sound of running water filled Chris’s ears, loud enough to make conversation nearly impossible without yelling back and forth. It amused her to no end that Frances thought it simple for Chris to go out and find someone to spend her life with. It certainly wasn’t that easy for her. With Sky, she had a physical relationship, not an emotional one.

Although Sky had hinted numerous times about wanting to go further, Chris had no desire to take the next step. In all honesty, she didn’t know much about Sky, other than her generosity in their sexual encounters. To this day, she had never touched Sky intimately. Sky was adamant about their interaction being about Chris and only satisfying her needs. It had taken a while for her to get used to Sky’s refusal to let her touch her. At first she was a bit put off and insulted, but she’d gradually adjusted to their one-sided encounters.

Chris pulled the last staple from the post and began trimming the ends of the wire. Her mind wandered a bit further. Would she be content with Sky? She’d seen firsthand that Sky’s moods were as fiery as her passions. A relationship with Sky would mean she’d have to accept both. Would she be content allowing her into her life? Chris was comfortable with the farm and making her own schedule without having to consider someone else’s needs. Besides, she wasn’t even sure if Sky liked animals. If she had to guess, she would be more inclined to say that animals probably didn’t like Sky. She could be wrong, she supposed, but there was one aspect of Sky’s behavior that Chris didn’t like at all: her abuse of drugs.

More than once, she’d witnessed Sky downing nondescript pills with her beer. Chris wasn’t really invested enough in their minimal relationship to care what Sky did or didn’t do to her body. She didn’t particularly like her when her drug cocktail of choice caused her moods to swing, sometimes violently.

Chris remembered, with a shudder, Sky’s attempt to push E on her. No way. She tried to avoid Sky at those times. It reminded her too much of where she’d come from.

She needed more fence supplies and cautiously retraced her steps, taking great care where she placed her feet while wading through the water. She found Frances dozing in the shade with a ring of sleeping dogs surrounding her. For a moment she gazed at the serene scene, but not wanting to wake her friend, she quietly rummaged through the tools. She lifted extra staples, new insulators, and two new wooden posts out of the Gator.

As she sloshed through the stream once more, she avoided slimy rocks while carrying the poles awkwardly on her shoulder. With each precarious step, she had to reach up with her free hand to steady them. When she stood by the bank, she tossed the posts onto dry land, and scrambled up after them. She wiped the clay from her hands on her jeans and swiped her hair out of her eyes.

It didn’t take her long to secure two strands of wire to the base post, then to the two posts that would hang vertically over the water. She unrolled the wire as she backed to the other side. Then she returned to pull the new fencing across.

She carefully waded through the water with the wire in her hands and the cumbersome posts behind her, but had to stand in the deepest part of the stream to begin tightening the fence. Unfortunately, she chose a dubious spot to stand. The current proved strong enough to threaten her balance each time she shifted her weight.

The posts were almost upright when one stuck on a thick root jutting out from a nearby tree. Chris tugged gently a couple of times, keeping in mind her precarious footing. The post tip didn’t budge. Frustrated, she leaned in and jerked back hard. The post came loose, but she had underestimated the amount of free wire behind it.

Her feet slipped as she wavered off balance. Swinging her arms like a windmill, she tried in vain to remain standing. It was inevitable. She was going in. “Oh, shit!”

The resulting splash woke Frances and startled the dogs. “Chris? Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Chris struggled to get back on her feet, lost the fight, and quickly sat back down in the water. “Damn it! These rocks are slicker than goose shit.” She heard a barely stifled giggle. She looked over at Frances who had one hand over her mouth and the other on her belly. “I’m glad you find this so damned funny,” she said.

Frances’s laughter proved contagious. Soon Chris was laughing just as much, which made it even more impossible to get out of the water. “I’m going to look like a freaking prune before I get out of here,” she blurted between outbursts. Several minutes passed before either she or Frances caught their breath.

“Many more stunts like that, and you’ll drive me to wear Depends.” Frances’s lip quivered. She bit it, Chris guessed, to keep her laughter from starting up again.

“This wasn’t exactly planned. Do you think you can contain yourself long enough to hold onto these wire ends while I wade over and free that post?” Chris avoided looking at Frances, who she knew could barely remain serious.

She brought her feet under her. One foot slipped, but she was able to push herself up with her arms to a crouching position. In a moment she was standing, and in another, she’d freed the fence.

Thirty minutes later, the fence secure and the tools stowed in the Gator, Frances drove back to the house. Every time she stole a glance at Chris, she’d start giggling again. Chris mock glowered in return.

“Aw, Chris,” Frances said, patting her shoulder, “you keep me young.”

Chris turned in her seat and smiled at Frances. God, she adored the woman. “Me, too.”

Chapter 6

The weeks flew by. Mary Jo traveled with Doc almost nonstop every day. Sometimes they had time to pick up a quick lunch, but more often they ate from a paper bag full of snacks that Donna threw together. Sometimes clients offered them a cup of coffee, a soda, or a bottle of water. On good days, a client might treat them to a Tupperware container of soup or chili.

Mary Jo had lost some weight and put on some muscle, but she wasn’t displeased. Her T-shirts fit a little tighter and her jeans a little looser. Without realizing it, she’d firmed up muscles she hadn’t used much since her high school days. She sported a “farmer’s tan” because only her face and arms saw the sun these days, and she didn’t have the time or inclination to tan any other parts of her body.

Her hair was lighter and streaked from the sun’s natural bleaching. Aware of her chaotic schedule, she tried to eat more healthily at home and kept her apartment stocked with protein foods, although she had a weakness for pizza.

On Friday evening, struggling to carry her usual bag of groceries and keep the contents from spilling, she completely forgot to pick up her mail on the way in. After she stowed the groceries, she went to the mailbox to retrieve it. An official looking envelope slipped out from between a grocery store flyer and a sales ad from a carpet cleaner and fell on the floor.

She dropped everything else and grabbed the envelope. With trembling hands, she gripped it tight. She closed her eyes, said a silent prayer, and started to tear it open.

“Oh God, I hope this is what I think it is,” she murmured.

With the partially opened envelope in hand, she got a wineglass, filled it with white wine, and took a generous chug. “Okay, it’s now or never.”

Despite unsteady hands, she finished ripping open the envelope. The words blurred on the page inside. She closed her eyes, opened them slowly, and attempted for a second time to read the paper. She shouted a whoop of joy. There it was: her Doctor of Veterinary Medicine license.

Doc Hall should already have received a copy of the document she held in her hand, but he hadn’t said anything about it. “Oh, my God, if I didn’t have to work tomorrow, I’d go out and celebrate. Maybe pick up some hot chick,” she mused aloud.

Mary Jo stopped daydreaming and forced herself to focus on what this piece of paper meant. She’d be able to go to calls by herself. While she enjoyed riding with Doc, she tended to rely on him and his diagnosis more than trusting her own knowledge and instincts. With her license, she didn’t have a choice. Clients would look to her for help. She’d be the one giving medical advice and treating her patients accordingly.

She dialed her parents’ number and got the machine as usual. She left a message with the good news, hung up, and poured herself another glass of wine. She took a deep breath and went out to sit on the steps that led to her apartment.

The sun was slowly setting and the cicadas had already begun their nightly buzzing. Mary Jo heard toads trilling and, in the distance, the hooting of an owl. She emptied her glass, went inside for a refill, and returned with a full glass as well as the bottle.

For some reason she felt lonely. She wasn’t sure why. She loved her job and had a bunch of friends, although it had been awhile since she’d seen or talked to any of them. Work kept her busy and sent her home tired. She should be happy, she thought, and she guessed she was.

She truly enjoyed the direction her life had taken, but something was missing. She supposed she could always go to a bar to find someone to briefly quench her sexual needs, but they weren’t women she could confide in, talk to, and hold close in her heart and mind.

Mary Jo’s thoughts wandered to Chris Martel. She thought Chris was a lesbian, or so her seldom-failing “gaydar” told her, and wondered if she had a girlfriend. From the little she had seen, Chris lived alone. Mary Jo hadn’t detected a shred of evidence pointing to another person, let alone another woman.

How could someone that gorgeous be single? Chris exuded confidence and a sexual quality that Mary Jo found unquestionably desirable. Her voice was quiet and sensual, which the horses apparently liked, too. It hadn’t taken but a few seconds to see the reaction Chris had on that killer horse. She had to admit she found Chris extremely attractive and captivating.

Chris had evidently come to the office to return the stethoscope. Maybe that was her way of extending a peace offering? And Donna had told her Chris said to stop by sometime and she would show her around the farm. She wouldn’t mind seeing Chris again, but she remained a little leery.

And let’s face it. She’s not your usual type. Their first meeting hadn’t been under the best of circumstances either. On the other hand, Chris was nice to look at. Maybe they could start over. She wouldn’t mind making a new friend, especially one who was as intriguing as Chris Martel. And she had a cute ass, too, Mary Jo recalled with a sigh.

Mary Jo gradually became aware of how dark it had gotten while she was lost in thought. She also noticed the wine bottle was as empty as her glass.

A movement caught her eye. The sky blazed with what seemed like millions of twinkling stars. She looked up in time to see a meteor streaking across the sky.

On her next day off, she decided, she would pay a visit to Went Farm to try to smooth things over with Chris. She picked up her glass and the bottle and stood up. With a last glance at the brilliant display in the sky, she headed into her apartment and closed the door behind her.

She put the glass in the kitchen sink and the bottle in the recycling bin. She went to the bedroom and pulled the T-shirt over her head as she walked into the bathroom.

After she turned the shower water to hot, she unhooked her bra, jeans, and underwear, and let them fall to the floor. A cloud of steam poured out of the shower enclosure when she opened the door. “Maybe I should be taking a cold shower instead,” she muttered as she let the water play over her body. The excitement of receiving her license and having vaguely lustful thoughts of a desirable woman, in combination with a lot of wine, had caused her libido to wake up. She did nothing about it and decided to just go to bed.

The next morning, when she turned into the clinic drive, she saw a brand new F-150 blue pickup parked in front. The panels on the empty vet box were open. As she got out of her truck, Doc and Donna came out of the office.

“Like your new ride?” Doc asked, with a broad smile.

“It’s beautiful.” Mary Jo walked around the truck, gently running her hand over the new paint. The gist of what Doc had asked suddenly sank in. She turned quickly to give them both hugs. “Seriously? This is mine? Oh, my God, thank you, thank you. I promise to take good care of it.”

“You’d better,” Donna said, laughing. “It took all I had to convince Richard not to take this one and leave you his old rig.”

“It’s true,” Doc admitted with a shrug. “And you won’t be riding with me today. I want you to spend as much time as you need getting this packed with supplies. Donna will help you. She has your laptop and printer in the office. It’ll probably be an early day for you today, unless you want to take a few calls after you have your rig ready.”

“All right, I can handle that.” Mary Jo felt confident, though she kept touching the truck to make sure it was real.

“Oh, and Mary Jo? Congratulations.” Doc took a sip from the coffee mug that was his constant companion in the morning.

Mary Jo hugged Doc and Donna again and wiped tears from her eyes after she released them. She loved them just like family and viewed them as nothing less since her own parents were often unavailable to her. They had their own busy careers and schedules. Her father was a criminal lawyer and her mother an inspirational speaker. Both traveled extensively, mostly apart, so except for holidays, it was rare she saw them together. Still, no matter her parents’ lifestyles, she couldn’t help being thankful to them for putting her through veterinary school.

She walked into the office with Doc and Donna and shared a pot of coffee. Doc was the first to finish and had to beat feet out the door for his first call.

“He’s so proud of you,” Donna said warmly. “You’re like the daughter he never had.”

Mary Jo touched Donna’s arm. “Thanks again,” she said. “I hope I can live up to your expectations.”

“You already have. For six years, it was all he could talk about. MJ this, MJ that.”

Mary Jo knew Doc and Donna had tried to have a baby for several years after they married. After four miscarriages, Donna’s doctor suggested other options. However, the couple had quit trying and threw conception to the fates. Shortly thereafter, the clinic had taken off, and they found it easier to focus on their business, as well as taking care of each other. When Mary Jo came into their lives, the Halls were delighted to adopt her as a surrogate daughter.

When Mary Jo finished with her rig, it was still early in the day. The weeks spent working out of Doc’s truck had helped her learn where all the supplies should be stored. The experience also helped her decide what worked and what didn’t. With few exceptions, she stocked her truck similarly to Doc’s, so it wouldn’t be difficult for him to find what he needed in the rare event he might use her rig.

With a sense of pride and accomplishment, she went back inside the clinic and said to Donna, “I think I’m done packing up. Is there anything you need me to do, or anywhere you want me to go?”

Donna hung up the phone. “As a matter of fact, there is,” she said. “I just spoke with Frances Cook. She’s an elderly lady who lives over on Route 390. She thinks one of her Thoroughbreds ulcerated his eye while running through the woods. Do you mind taking this?”

“I would love to. I hope you’ll have a call list for me tomorrow, too.”

“I’m sure I can come up with something, MJ. It’s been kind of slow today, so unless somebody else calls, you can probably just go home afterward.”

“Sounds good.” Mary Jo almost skipped out the door, jingling the keys in her hand. Sunshine beamed down through the white puffy clouds in the sky. It was a beautiful day. The temperature hadn’t risen above sixty-five degrees for the past week. A nice cool breeze lightly kissed the leaves on the trees, which had barely started to turn, and so far none had fallen. She loved this time of year. The air smelled clean and earthy, a switch from the humid, moldy scent all summer that made her think of mushrooms.

She rolled the truck windows down and enjoyed the new truck smell. She powered up the laptop to query Frances Cook in the clinic’s software. The address and equine information appeared on her screen, including the entire medical file for each horse.

After scanning the files, she programmed the GPS with Frances’s address. She started the truck and backed out onto the road. With the wind blowing through her hair, she drove to her first solo call.

Frances’s road had huge, ancient maple trees lining both sides. The canopies tangled overhead to create a cool, dark tunnel. The GPS came alive and announced her turn a quarter mile on the right. As Mary Jo began looking more closely for the address, she saw a truck with the Went Farm logo on the door turn out of the drive and continue down the road.

“That’s interesting,” she said to herself.

She signaled and turned onto a long dirt drive. A Blue Heeler stood in the middle of the driveway. The dog unexpectedly ran toward her truck, wagging its tail. It stopped abruptly, cocked its head and barked twice. Obviously expecting someone else, the dog looked perplexed, and dashed off into the bushes.

Mary Jo chuckled as she continued along the driveway until she came to an old farmhouse and barn. A woman, presumably Mrs. Cook, sat in a rocking chair on the porch. Donna said the woman was elderly, but she sure didn’t look a day over sixty.

Mary Jo parked in front of the barn. As she walked to the porch, she looked for the little dog, but it was nowhere in sight.

“Hi. Mrs. Cook?”

“Yes, and please call me Frances.” The woman got up and extended a veined, weathered hand. “You must be the new lady vet I’ve been hearing about.” Her face was tanned, a picture of many years spent outdoors, but her eyes were young and twinkling. Her smile radiated a warmth that made Mary Jo feel welcome and instantly at ease.

“I’m Doctor Mary Jo Cavanaugh. So you’ve already heard about me, huh? Good things, I hope.”

Frances laughed and said, “Oh, heavens, yes. Now let me show you Gordon. He’s the boy who got into trouble. Chris and I were down in the trees collecting some firewood, and he came barreling in to see what was going on. He’s always been such a nosy thing. Chris kept telling him his big ole’ snoot was going to get him in trouble one of these days. I guess it caught up with him.”

So it was Chris who turned out of the drive before me. “You know Chris Martel?” They walked side by side as they moved toward the barn.

“Gosh, yes, she is such a dear. I met her when she and Bill Went came to my Fred’s funeral.” Frances stopped and stared into the fields. “They were such a help. When Fred died, my arm was in a cast and I couldn’t do any barn chores. The two of them jumped right in and wouldn’t let me lift a finger. When Bill died the year after Fred, Chris and I spent a lot of time together drowning our sorrows.”

Frances walked toward the barn again with Mary Jo and opened the big door just wide enough for both of them to slip through.

“Chris said to keep Gordon in a dark stall because it’d be easier on his eye.” Frances’s frown spoke volumes about her concern.

“Well, if he ulcerated the cornea, she’s right,” Mary Jo said. “He’d definitely be more comfortable. But let’s see what we have.”

Mary Jo followed Frances down the hard-packed-dirt aisle. Frances’s barn was an older style bank structure with part of it built into the side of a hill. Mary Jo assumed she used the upstairs area for hay and equipment storage. The lower part of the barn was open at the back and faced the pasture. The stalls were against the bank wall, which kept the horses warmer in the winter and cooler in the summer. The enclosures were dark but airy.

Frances stopped at the second stall and pulled a halter from a hook on the door. “All right, Gordon, the doctor is here to look at your boo-boo.”

When he heard his name, a tall, flea-bitten, gray Thoroughbred put his head over the stall door and nickered at her. The left side of Gordon’s face was streaked wet with tears, and he squinted in obvious discomfort. Frances gently pulled the halter over his ears, swung his door open, and led him into the aisle. She stopped him between a set of cross ties and secured both sides before stepping out of the way.

Mary Jo walked to the horse’s head. “Hey, Gordon, let’s see what you did.” She raised her hand and gently patted his neck. The Thoroughbred’s soft eyes looked past her as he strained to see Frances.

“Okay, I need to go get a few things. I’ll be right back.” Mary Jo walked back down the aisle, and as she did so, she could hear Frances speak affectionately to her horse.

She opened the barn door and immediately shaded her eyes against the bright sun. As she walked to her rig, she made a mental list of supplies she would need, confident she knew exactly how she would treat the eye. She put her tools and medicines in her doctor’s bag and caught a glimpse of a fuzzy tail sliding through the door as she turned toward the barn. While she walked in, she wondered how well Frances knew Chris.

Mary Jo’s eyes readjusted to the dark interior of the barn, and she was able to make out the owner of the tail, a Blue Heeler sitting next to Frances. She drew closer to her patient and saw the horse had his head resting against Frances’s chest. One side of his hips drooped as he relaxed his back leg on the tip of his hoof.

“Who’s this little dog?” Mary Jo asked.

Chuckling, Frances said, “Her name’s Daisy. She runs the farm and lets me live here for free.”

“That’s quite a gig she’s got going. She was down at the end of your drive when I pulled in, then she disappeared into the weeds.”

Mary Jo put her bag on the ground and approached the horse. She took hold of the halter and lifted his head up so she could look at him. The tissue around the eye was beginning to swell slightly. Probably from the trauma. She pulled her ophthalmoscope from her pocket, twisted the light on, and began her examination.

Frances looked down at the dog and laughed with obvious fondness. “Daisy escorted Chris down the drive and must have thought she and the girls had come back. She just adores Chris and her dogs.”

“I’ll bet.” Mary Jo peered into the horse’s eye. Not seeing any foreign objects, she turned off the light and returned the scope to her pocket. “I’m going to put a dye strip in his eye. If he ulcerated his cornea, the dye will settle on it and we can see the extent of his injury.” She opened a small plastic container from her bag. In it were narrow strips of paper with ends dipped in orange dye. She placed her index finger on the top of his eye and her thumb on the bottom. This effectively pushed the lids apart enough to place the dye strip between the lower eyelid and the eye. She released the lids and placed a hand on Gordon’s neck.

“We’ll just wait a minute for that to work. The dye will turn green as his tears spread it over the eye. Don’t be surprised to see some green liquid come out of his nostrils. That’s just excess dye that’s entered his sinuses.” While waiting, Mary Jo decided to probe a little about Chris. “Does Chris come over often?”

“Every Thursday morning,” Frances answered. “She finishes her chores, goes to the mill to pick up my feed, and comes here for breakfast. She usually ends up staying into the afternoon because she insists I need help with things. We finished up early today. Otherwise she would have been here when you arrived.” Frances obviously decided to do some probing herself since she added, “You’ve met Chris.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah, she was actually the first client I was introduced to. She has a nice farm.” Mary Jo hoped beyond hope that Chris hadn’t told Frances about that unpleasant episode with Top Hat. If word got around about that scene, clients might not have any confidence in her ability to treat their horses. That would kill her, not to mention potentially hurt Doc’s practice.

“That’s right. She did say that you and Doc had come to look at a couple of her horses.”

Damn. I can’t believe she’s spreading that incident around. Sighing heavily, Mary Jo focused on her patient.

“Don’t worry, dear. Chris told me about what happened, and that’s as far as it will go. She knows that horse is a bit ornery, but Hattie’s worth a ton of money. Her babies are practically made of gold.” Frances’s tone of voice reassured Mary Jo.

Mary Jo removed the dye strip and reexamined Gordon’s eye. Her shoulders relaxed for the first time since the subject of Chris Martel came up. With a square of gauze, she gently wiped away the excess dye. She pulled the scope out of her pocket, turned it on, and pointed at his eye. A long streak of green appeared in the center of the cornea.

“He did ulcerate it,” she said, “but it doesn’t appear to be too deep. I think we can get him fixed up so he doesn’t have any residual sight problems after it heals.”

“That’s certainly a relief.”

“I’m going to dilate his eye with Atropine. That should help ease the pain. When a horse injures an eye, their pupil tends to constrict. If left too long it can develop scarring and adversely affect their sight. I want you to use this twice a day for three days or until his pupil stays dilated. I’m also going to leave some antibiotic salve for you to apply twice a day for ten days. If you see any abnormal weeping or swelling, call the clinic right away.”

“Thank you so much,” Frances said.

Mary Jo picked up her bag. “If you want, you can give him some Bute powder in his feed for a few days. That’ll help with the swelling. I wouldn’t turn him out in the bright sun unless you have a heavy fly mask on him.” She administered both eye salves on Gordon and moved out of the way so Frances could return him to his stall. She waited for Frances before she turned to exit the barn. Daisy followed closely at Frances’s heels.

As they neared the truck, Frances asked, “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“I would love one, thank you.”

“You go put your stuff back in the truck, and I’ll go start brewing.”

As Frances disappeared into the house, Mary Jo stored her supplies. When finished, she looked up and noticed the beautiful flower garden on the side of the house. The colors were radiant, even at this time of year, with mixtures of gold, red, purple, white, and dark magenta. She’d have to ask Frances about them. She was about to step onto the porch when Frances came out the screen door balancing a tray laden with mugs, a coffeepot, and a plate of scones.

“It’s such a beautiful day, let’s sit out here.” Frances placed the tray on a wicker table. A pair of matching chairs stood on either side. The rocking chair Frances had occupied when Mary Jo arrived stood right in front of the steps, and Daisy sat on the seat.

“Please sit and take a load off,” Frances said. “You vets work too hard.” She poured coffee into both mugs. “Help yourself to cream and sugar.”

Mary Jo picked up the mug nearest to her and added a dollop of cream. She took a sip, closed her eyes, and let the delicious flavor wash over her taste buds. She normally took her coffee black, but when drinking unfamiliar coffee, she preferred to disguise the potentially bad taste with cream. This coffee, however, proved delectable. She helped herself to a scone. “God, this is wonderful,” she said between bites.

“I’m actually surprised there’re any left. Chris usually cleans them up. I swear that girl never eats.”

Mary Jo swallowed and said, “I’m glad she didn’t. Doesn’t she cook?”

“No, she claims she never has time. I think she just gets so wrapped up with those animals, she forgets to eat.”

Curiosity got the better of Mary Jo. “She lives alone?”

“Yes, poor dear, ever since Bill left us.” Frances looked at her lap a moment. “I always tell her she needs someone in her life to make her happy.” She glanced at Mary Jo with an expression that showed her adoration of Chris. “Chris is a dear friend, and I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

Mary Jo recognized the finality in Frances’s voice. She was obviously very protective of Chris.

“I know what it’s like cooking for one,” Mary Jo said, “so I can’t say anything. I find just popping a pizza or something in the microwave is a lot easier, especially when I’m tired after work.” She changed the subject. “Have you owned this farm long?”

Frances nodded in reply. “Fred and I bought this place fifty years ago. For quite a few years, we ran a rescue for Thoroughbreds that came off the track in Canandaigua. Then he got sick. He had cancer, you know, and that took the wind out of our sails. We couldn’t afford to run the farm anymore, what with all his medical bills piling up. We adopted out all the horses except for Gordon and Rome. They’re the last ones, and I promised Fred I’d keep them here no matter what. Those two were his favorites.” She raised her head and gazed at the flower garden Mary Jo had admired earlier. “I kept him—Fred—on the mantel for a few years. His ashes, I mean. Chris told me I should find a spot where he could look out at his horses. We put that flower garden in this spring and planted him there.” With a sly look, she added, “He’s still in the urn. I haven’t let him loose to wreak havoc with the flowers. Not sure when I’ll do that.”

“I think if it was me,” Mary Jo said slowly, “I’d make sure that when I died my ashes were mixed with those of my soul mate. Then we’d be together forever.”

Frances gazed at Mary Jo, a warm smile on her face. “Yes, I believe that might be the solution. Thank you. I’ll have to talk to Chris about that arrangement. You’re quite the romantic for a young lady. Pardon me for asking, but do you have a special person in your life?”

It was Mary Jo’s turn to laugh. “No, not yet. I’m still looking. School took up most of my time, and right now I’m fairly busy getting to know the practice with Doc.”

“You will, don’t worry.” Frances returned her attention to the garden.

Mary Jo followed her gaze. “Your garden is just beautiful, Frances. What kind of flowers are they?”

“Most of them are mums, among other things. When Chris and I were looking at catalogs last winter, we tried to pick a variety of flowers so it’d be colorful all spring and through the fall.”

“It’s certainly very beautiful. You guys did a wonderful job.” Mary Jo glanced at her watch and realized it was nearing mid afternoon. “Oh my, Frances, it’s getting late and I should get going. Thank you so much for the coffee and scones.” She rose from the chair and started down the porch steps.

“Thank you again for taking care of Gordon.” Seemingly as an afterthought, Frances added, “Maybe you’d like to join us for breakfast or dinner sometime? I love to cook and don’t have many occasions to do it, other than breakfast for Chris every Thursday.” She stood up as well and started moving the used coffee cups onto the tray.

“Would you like any help with that before I go?”

“No, dear, I’m fine. It was so nice to sit down and chat with you.” Frances looked up from her task. “Please come again, anytime.”

“I will,” Mary Jo promised as she walked to her truck.

She looked back at the house as she opened the door. Before getting in, she waved at Frances standing on the porch. I bet she’s lonely. Without Chris, she probably wouldn’t have anybody to talk to.

Sensing she’d found a new friend in Frances, Mary Jo vowed to visit her as often as possible. She got into the truck and drove down the long dirt drive where she waved again. Frances returned her wave, while Daisy sat on the porch steps and watched her go.

Chapter 7

“Cagney, go upstairs,” Chris told the young Lab who was terrified of the vacuum cleaner. As a pup, Cagney had run upstairs as soon as she produced the thing. She waited to hear paws on the stairs before pulling out the vacuum and plugging it in. Cedar and Sadie preferred to lie on the couch, out of harm’s way.

It was a rare morning in September for Chris. With chores done, she finally had the leisure to clean the house for the first time in weeks.

Earlier in the month, three new horses had arrived and every one required individual attention to get them settled. Not one to skimp on care, Chris worked in the barn from sunup to damn near sundown, even forgetting to eat. A couple of nights she slept on the office cot because she didn’t have the energy to walk to the house. She was thankful the nightmares had left her alone.

Chris glanced out a window as she walked by. The rain had stopped, and the ground was slowly absorbing the standing water. The pastures were in great shape, and the hay was growing in nice and green. Sunny days outnumbered cloudy ones. At the moment, all the windows in the house were open and fresh air wafted in through the curtains. The trees on her property were magnificently colored. When the temperatures cooled, fall was her favorite time of the year.

As she cleaned room after room, Chris allowed her mind to wander. The horses were getting fuzzy in preparation for winter. On chillier mornings, she and the dogs watched the horses playing in the morning mist. They raced each other up and down the fence lines, kicking, bucking, and rearing, snorting and squealing. When the horses discovered she was in the barn, they raced to get to their feed.

Sneaking into the barn undiscovered was a challenge. She had taught the dogs to walk quietly next to her, a game they seemed to understand and happily engage in. Sometimes the mist was so thick, even Top Hat couldn’t see them, but by nine o’clock in the morning, it had usually burned off and the barn was quiet again.

Chris finished with her vacuuming, put the upright away, and began dusting. After a while, Cagney came back downstairs with her head low and her tail swaying from side to side.

“Hi, little one,” Chris said as the Lab walked meekly toward her. She set aside her cleaning rag and spray and sat down on the floor.

Cagney squinted and pulled her lips back. She trotted to Chris, wagging her tail fiercely, and traded a belly rub and a hug for a big slurp up the side of Chris’s face. Cedar and Sadie quickly joined them. All three dogs walked over her lap, taking turns licking her face. They suddenly stopped and looked at her expectantly. Their ears were perked and butts wiggling.

“I know what you beasties want. Can’t you wait until I’m done cleaning?” Chris laughed and tried in vain to dodge wagging tails and wet kisses.

The dogs responded by dancing around her. Cedar ran to the door, turned to look at Chris, and ran back. The three dogs sat down and stared at Chris, waiting for her to give them the word. She finally gave in, got up, threw the dusting rag into the laundry room, and put away the spray.

“All right, all right. It’s probably warm enough by now. Let’s go swimming.”

The dogs whined impatiently as they waited for the much slower Chris to let them out. She slipped on her sandals and sunglasses and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. After wading through the small throng of dogs, she reached the door and opened it. The girls raced across the yard and down the path.

“You could at least wait for me,” Chris called after them.

The dogs paused long enough to look back and then took off as fast as they could. Chris entered the woods soundlessly, stepped off the trail, and hid behind a tree. She didn’t have much of a wait before the dogs noticed her absence and turned around. She heard them long before she saw them. The three dogs ran past her in a blur. She had to work hard to stifle her giggles.

Sadie came to a halt before the two Labs noticed. The Jack Russell turned around abruptly and trotted up to Chris, where she stood wagging her little stump of a tail. Chris sat down on a log and motioned for Sadie to jump into her lap. The two sat stock-still until the Labs finally backtracked. Relying on their noses, they discovered the duo’s hiding place.

For a few minutes, Chris sat quietly with the dogs, enjoying the faint whisper of wind in the trees and the sun shining bright in a cloudless sky. The day moon made a spot of bright white against the blue. The tamaracks were just beginning to turn gold before they lost their needles. A flash of goldenrod complemented the red and yellow maple and birch leaves. As the sun’s rays made their way to the leaf-covered ground, the smell of the woods was intoxicating.

Although the summer warblers had long since migrated south, a fair amount of birdsong could still be heard in the branches above her. Chickadees fluttered in the pine trees, competing with gray squirrels for seeds. Across the trail, a Nuthatch made its way down the bark of a young oak tree, undoubtedly looking for any remaining summer bugs.

“Good girls,” Chris said when she returned her attention to the dogs. “Okay, let’s go.” Cagney, Cedar, and Sadie were up and away like a shot. Lap vacated, Chris sauntered the remaining distance to the pond. A few Canada Geese had been grazing the short grass, minding their own business, before the dogs came bounding in. The birds honked their annoyance, heaved their bodies into flight, and quickly disappeared.

Chris relaxed as she walked to the water’s edge. She slipped off her sandals, tested the water, and let it cover her feet. She smiled in satisfaction as she felt the sun-warmed water. She took a step back and pulled her T-shirt over her head, exposing her breasts.

She unzipped her jeans and let them and her boxer shorts slip down her legs to the ground. She lifted her feet out of the pile of shed clothing and waded into the water, relishing the way it softly enveloped and caressed her body. Standing there with her eyes closed, all thoughts and cares melted away.

After a moment or two, she pulled herself through the pond, passing over a couple of small springs before finally treading water to stay afloat.

The Labs had finished playing and sat waiting in the grass. Sadie meandered through the cattails, looking for frogs, no doubt. Chris took her time swimming back to the shore. She stood and drops of water clung to her cooling skin. She walked over to Cedar and Cagney. “Can I share that spot with you guys?”

The Labs didn’t move as Chris lay down in the grass between them. The sunlight dried her damp body, and she warmed up quickly. She folded her hands behind her head, stretched out flat on the ground and relaxed, completely at ease.

She closed her eyes. She had been working so hard the past few weeks; it didn’t take long for her to fall fast asleep.

*   *   *

Mary Jo knocked three times and got no answer. She turned around and scanned the farm for signs of Chris. A movement caught her eye across a field. She stood watching as Sadie trotted out of the woods toward her. “So, we meet again,” she said, acknowledging the little dog as she approached. “Where’s your mom?”

As if understanding the question, Sadie turned and started down the trail. Apparently sensing Mary Jo’s hesitation, she stopped and waited for her.

“All right, I guess you want me to follow you.” Mary Jo remained a bit uncertain. She had no idea where the dog might be leading her.

Sadie continued down the path.

“I don’t know where you’re taking me, little dog, but it sure is beautiful through here.” Mary Jo admired the fall colors while she walked behind Sadie.

They broke through the tree line, and Mary Jo stopped abruptly when she caught sight of a sleeping woman in the grass. Two familiar Labs stayed next to the woman, unmoving except for wagging tails. Sadie quietly joined them and sat down.

Mary Jo stared. The woman was Chris, and Chris was naked.

She couldn’t stop staring at the perfect, tanned body in front of her. Her mouth went dry, and her mind went blank as she lost her ability to look away.

Chris’s breasts, while not small—maybe slightly more than a handful, she thought—were perfect. A firm abdomen accentuated her faultless physique.

Oh, my God, she’s beautiful. Mary Jo couldn’t get her feet to move, and suddenly her predicament struck her. Oh, shit, what do I do? Do I wake her and try not to look like a complete idiot? Should I just turn around and leave? But sweet Jesus, she’s gorgeous.

Finally gathering her wits, she turned to leave, hoping her intrusion might go undetected, but the dogs gave her away. All three jumped up, rushed over the sleeping woman, and woke her up.

Aw, shit!

Chris opened her eyes and slowly turned her head to look after the dogs. She looked intently at Mary Jo before recognition set in. Chris stared, then sat up, blinking against the sun.

At last she broke her steady gaze. She located her shirt and pulled it over her head before standing up. “I didn’t know I was entertaining today.” She put on boxers over well-defined legs and turned her attention back to Mary Jo.

God, how can a woman look so sexy in boxers? Mary Jo hoped she wasn’t gaping like an idiot. She was half-turned toward the trail, ready to flee. She pointed over her shoulder and said in a squeaky voice, “I… uh… I… I’m sorry. I should have called.”

Chris’s bold, unhidden appraisal made Mary Jo feel like a bug under a microscope. She’d chosen to wear a white T-shirt that fit tightly over her chest. Her jeans fit comfortably over her hips and down her legs. For a change, her hair hung loose, not pulled back under a cap.

“That’s okay. I didn’t realize I’d fallen asleep.” Chris ended her stare. She looked down at the dogs, who had rejoined her “You beasties were supposed to wake me if someone came.” Chris frowned at them and returned her gaze to Mary Jo, who found herself stricken mute, unable to think of anything intelligent to say.

“Is there something I can do for you?” Chris rested her hands on her hips a moment. Then she bent and retrieved her water bottle from the ground, unscrewed the cap, and took a long swallow.

Chris’s gaze traveling the length of her body had sent shivers up Mary Jo’s spine. “Um, Donna said I should stop by sometime,” she said, fidgeting. “And I wanted to thank you for returning my stethoscope.” She didn’t want to bring up the details of how the instrument had been lost.

Chris casually pulled on her jeans, slipped on her sandals, and began to walk toward her. Mary Jo was rooted to the spot. She couldn’t pull herself away from Chris’s mesmerizing eyes.

As she came to stand beside Mary Jo, Chris said, “Well, next time you could call ahead and make sure I’m around.” She smiled again. “Maybe you’d like to come out for a swim sometime.” A fleeting shadow crossed her face, as if she were unsure she should have extended the invitation.

Chris began walking back to the house. Mary Jo followed, catching up to walk next to her on the trail. Their bare arms brushed when they had to make room for the dogs rushing by. Mary Jo jumped, feeling like a surge of electricity had run up her arm from the brief contact. She wondered if Chris had felt it, too.

Mary Jo found she could talk and walk at the same time, though barely. “Yeah, uh, swimming. That sounds nice.” She hoped her nervousness didn’t show, since she was barely able to hold herself together.

“I know we kind of got off on the wrong foot,” Chris started to say, but Mary Jo interrupted her.

“No, no, that entire thing was my fault. I was stupid for going into that horse’s stall. Reading horse behavior is one skill I was never much good at. We learned about it in school, but it wasn’t one of my best subjects. I know the science, but sometimes I have difficulties with aggressive animals. I just hope it doesn’t get me into trouble too often.” Mary Jo fell quiet again, very aware of the woman walking beside her.

Chris remained silent as well.

When they arrived at Mary Jo’s truck, Chris turned to her. “Would you like a cup of coffee? It’s too early for beer, so…” She grinned as she left the question dangling.

“Sure. Thanks.”

“All right, come on in the house. I need another cup to wake me up, anyway.” Chris turned toward the house and whistled. The dogs were at her side in an instant.

Mary Jo followed the two Labs and the terrier, marveling at their behavior. “These guys amaze me,” she said.

“Yeah, they’re good girls. I don’t know what I’d do without them.” Chris reached down and grabbed Cedar’s ear. The Lab glanced up and wagged her tail. Chris let go, and the dog joined the rest of the pack as they ran to the door and waited to go inside.

“Welcome to my humble abode.” Chris motioned Mary Jo inside.

Mary Jo walked into the house and found herself in the mudroom. She knew she had failed in her attempt to be subtle as she studied the place when Chris smirked.

“Go ahead and look around if you want,” Chris said. “I’ll get the coffee going. Sugar? Milk?”

She glanced at Chris and said, “Black, please,” and wandered into the living room. The area was huge and appeared to be more of a great room. The furniture sat on oak hardwood floors punctuated by a giant red and black striped rug. Though well used, it seemed top of the line.

She spotted a few end tables with lamps, and a cluster of dog beds lay next to the wall. Catching sight of several pictures on the mantel, she moved toward the fireplace. A couple of them showed Bill and Chris with the dogs. Some depicted the dogs as pups. Most of the photos were of various horses and some foals. She assumed they were pictures of Chris’s horses. Oddly, there were no family photos. She recalled Doc telling her about Chris being a runaway.

“Bill was the photographer,” a quiet voice said.

“He took all of these?” Mary Jo could tell Chris still missed him. The sadness in her voice was evident.

“Uh-huh.”

“He was quite good.” Mary Jo picked up a framed picture. “I was so sorry to hear about him passing.” She offered Chris a sympathetic smile.

Chris turned away from the photos and walked out of the room. But not before Mary Jo glimpsed the pain in her eyes. Perhaps it was difficult to look at those pictures in someone else’s presence.

Mary Jo followed Chris into the kitchen and took a place at the counter.

“Let’s go outside. I’ll show you around the barn if you want.” Chris poured their coffee into tall travel mugs and snapped the lids on.

Mary Jo noticed Chris drank her coffee black as well. “That sounds good.” She accepted the mug handed to her and followed Chris to the door, where the dogs joined them. “They don’t let you get out of their sight do they?”

“No, they don’t. It sounds silly, but I play hide-and-seek with them a lot. I’ve done it since they were pups. It teaches them that it’s their job to know where I am, not the other way around.”

Mary Jo took a sip of the hot coffee. “Wow. This is delicious.”

“Thanks.” Chris raised her mug to her lips. “I can’t take all the credit. Frances Cook got me hooked on this brand. It’s the only kind I can drink now.”

Mary Jo recalled how she had used cream to cover up the flavor of the coffee Frances had served her. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“Except for the three new mares I got in, I’m not sure if anybody will be in the barn this time of day,” Chris said. “I’d rather have them outside grazing anyway.”

“Why don’t the new mares get to go out?”

Chris’s gaze settled on Mary Jo. “They all came directly from the track, so I have to teach them that they don’t have to run like hell everywhere they go.” She swallowed another gulp of coffee. “They’ll eventually be able to go outside. Right now, I work them in the round pen to give them some exercise.”

“I thought you only took in breeding mares”

“I do, these mares just aren’t bred yet. They aren’t even going into season because they’re in racing condition. This coming spring they’ll start to have heat cycles, and then we’ll breed them.”

Once again, Mary Jo noticed the cleanliness of the barn as they entered, although this time there was no cat taking a mouse meal in the aisle.

As expected, they found the barn mostly empty. Chris and Mary Jo walked to the last stalls before the riding ring. Three huge, incredibly fit mares contentedly munched hay in their stalls. The first was a light roan gray. The name on her stall read Blue Ghost. The next was a dark bay named Moon Shadow. The last mare was a liver chestnut named Ramquette.

“They don’t look like they’re high-strung,” Mary Jo remarked as she admired Moon Shadow.

“Oh, believe me, when I lead any of them out, I’m holding nothing short of dynamite. They’re quite used to stall living, but they’re also conditioned to know that when they come out they’re usually going to run.” Chris glanced at the riding ring. “This is about it. The ring is two hundred by three hundred feet. I have enough room to have a seventy-five-foot round pen at one end without feeling crowded over here.”

Mary Jo walked into the ring. Soft sand crunched under her feet. Skylights in the roof and just below the eves allowed as much natural light as possible to enter during the day. There were also fluorescent lights mounted every ten feet in the ceiling. Mirrors lined the walls, adding to the brightness. At the far end stood the round pen Chris had mentioned. It consisted of several large gate panels hooked together in a circle to form an enclosed exercise area.

“Nice setup,” she said.

“The foaling stalls are down this wing.” Chris pointed down a separate aisle off the ring. “We built it this way so the mares will have some seclusion when they foal.” She nodded toward a room, adding, “That’s the office. It has all the monitors from the foaling stalls wired into it.”

Mary Jo went to the room Chris had indicated. “Geez, it looks more like an apartment than an office,” she said, leaning in the doorway.

Chris walked past her into the office. As she went through the doorway, her breasts brushed against Mary Jo’s back. Mary Jo had to stifle the gasp that threatened to escape, surprised by her body’s response to such a light touch.

“The dogs and I pretty much live in here during the foaling season.” Chris sat on the edge of her desk, seemingly unaware of the effect she had on Mary Jo. She crossed her arms over her chest, stretched her legs out in front of her, and watched Mary Jo peer briefly at the various things hanging on the walls.

Mary Jo felt awkward in the sudden silence and knew she had to get out of there before she said something stupid. She handed Chris her empty travel mug and hoped her face wasn’t as red as it felt.

“Thanks for showing me everything.”

When Chris responded with a raised eyebrow, she realized what she had implied. “I mean, I should probably let you go. I know you’re busy.” Okay, so much for saying something really stupid, you moron.

Chris shot her a teasing grin. “Anytime. Come anytime.” She pushed herself from the desk and joined Mary Jo at the door.

Mary Jo glanced everywhere except at Chris and started walking in the direction of the barn entrance. She could feel Chris right behind her as they stepped into the sunlight. Not knowing why, she turned and extended her hand. Chris took the offered hand and squeezed gently before letting go.

“It’s been nice. Thanks again,” Mary Jo said quietly and got into the truck. She reached down, turned the key in the ignition, and quickly put the gear in drive. The unexpected attraction she felt for Chris confused her. She needed to put some space between them so she could think.

As she drove the truck slowly down the road, she wondered aloud, “Did Chris just hold onto my hand a little longer than necessary?” Her heart beat a little faster when she relived the scene at the pond. “Okay, MJ, admit it, you’re attracted to her.”

She let out a sigh and turned the truck toward home.

With her hands in her pockets, Chris watched Mary Jo walk to her truck. When she heard the ignition and the vehicle began to move, she waved once. She found herself wishing Mary Jo had stayed a bit longer.

She had to admit she’d had fun giving her a little tour. She’d been excited to show off her property, although it wasn’t the first time she had shown someone around the place. It was old hat, actually. She had given countless tours to potential boarders, but for some reason, this time it was different. When showing Mary Jo around, she had felt more pride in what she’d accomplished.

That Mary Jo had seen her naked didn’t bother her. Although not vain, she knew she had a nice body. Thanks to Bill, her confidence and self-esteem were sound, although emotionally, she tended to remain guarded around unfamiliar people. That guard had slipped a little around Mary Jo, which made her somewhat uncomfortable. Other than Frances, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had fun with another woman. The bar didn’t count.

Given more time, well, they just might become good friends, and there weren’t many people Chris could honestly call a friend.

Chapter 8

On Thursday morning, Chris drove in the direction of Frances’s farm. She had skipped visiting Angie’s Bar, preferring to pick up the grain the previous evening because she wanted to get an early start. Nearly every day for a week, she’d been coming over and cutting wood for Frances’s winter heat. Today she could start splitting and piling. Fortunately, Frances had a gas wood-splitter; otherwise, she would have to do it by hand.

As she drove, Chris thought about Mary Jo’s visit the day before. She had to admit the woman who’d driven away was a far cry from the one who had tested her patience a few days ago. Mary Jo seemed interested in her activities on the farm, but why wouldn’t she be? She was a vet, for God’s sake. It had been fun showing her around, and for the first time in a long time, Chris had felt some sort of no-strings connection with another woman.

Although cloudy, the weatherman had promised no rain. Chris thought he was insane to make a promise like that. All his prediction did was ensure it would rain.

She turned into the drive, and the girls sat up from their sleep as usual when she reached Frances’s home. Chris automatically looked for Daisy, who should be waiting in the middle of the road. She didn’t see the Blue Heeler. A hollow feeling formed in the pit of her stomach, and she felt the blood drain from her face.

Where the heck was she? Something was wrong. Something was really wrong. Trusting her instincts, she pressed harder on the gas pedal. “Hang on, girls.”

Her tires dug into the gravel as she sped down the drive. Memories of finding Bill in his chair that awful morning rushed back to her. Sweat formed on her brow. She felt queasy. The driveway seemed to go on forever. Her sole comfort lay in the fact that Daisy wouldn’t leave Frances if something was wrong. Oh, God, I can’t lose Frances. Dust rose in thick clouds as she raced down the dirt drive. Oh, God. Oh, God.

Chris blindly skidded the truck to a stop in front of the porch, pushed the door open, and rushed toward the house. The dogs seemingly sensed her panic and remained in the truck. Taking a second to prepare herself for the worst, she stopped, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, she became aware of a familiar truck in her peripheral vision, the vehicle parked next to the barn.

Shit, something happened to one of the horses. There must not have been time to call me. Increased concern replaced panic. Chris ran to the barn and halted abruptly at the door. She thought she heard laughter. “What the hell?” she asked aloud.

She opened the door wide and almost ran into Frances and Mary Jo on their way out. Mary Jo was carrying her doctor’s bag in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. And walking beside them was a bright-eyed Daisy, trying her best to get Mary Jo’s attention.

Frances stopped short in surprise. “Whoa, where’s the fire?”

“Little traitor,” Chris muttered to the dog and tried to calm down. She didn’t trust herself to answer Frances right away.

Daisy took two quick hops up on her hind legs and rested her front paws on Chris’s right leg. Apparently realizing that if Chris was here, so were her friends, she dashed out the door.

“Chris, are you okay?” Frances tried to catch Chris’ eyes and finally succeeded.

Chris nodded. She was close to tears and didn’t want to embarrass herself by crying. She was glad the shadows of the barn hid her face. She had been so scared, only now realizing how much she depended on Frances.

As she turned away, she mumbled, “I’ve got to unload the feed. I’ll be in when I’m done.” She went out the door and almost stumbled to her truck. She caught a glimpse of the open driver’s side door and realized she couldn’t remember anything between arriving and getting to the barn door. She glanced into the cab and saw the dogs still sitting there. Additionally, Daisy sat in the front seat with them as she usually did on their rides in.

With a smile she didn’t feel, Chris gave the girls the go-ahead to get out. In a split second, they were out and running, leaving a trail of dust in their wake. She was still trying to compose herself when she grabbed the steering wheel and hauled herself up into the truck to move it closer to the barn.

Fortunately, Frances and Mary Jo had already gone to the house, so Chris took her time unloading the feed from the truck. She thought about how close she had come to completely losing it in front of them.

If she lost Frances, her world would come undone as it had when Bill died. Was her current emotional upheaval a remnant of the turmoil her family had caused before she ran away? Was it because, until Bill, she hadn’t had a father figure who cared? Or was it because she needed to face the fact that she was lonely?

Oh, her dogs and horses filled a huge void in her life. They kept her busy and entertained. Although not much of a conversationalist, she didn’t mind occasional small talk, as long as it didn’t center on her. Other than Bill, Frances was the only one in the world who knew anything about her ugly past. It had taken Chris a long time to learn to trust someone. Frances was the only person she could honestly depend on.

Chris sagged against the feed bin as she tried hard to suppress her jangled nerves. The only way to repress these feelings was to work until she dropped from exhaustion. She wouldn’t be using the log splitter today. She took the axe from the nail on the wall, grabbed the wedge from the shelf that hung over the tool bench, and went to split the logs as she’d promised.

Frances and Mary Jo watched Chris stalk to her truck. “Let’s go on up to the house and get breakfast going,” Frances said.

Mary Jo glanced at Frances and saw the concern in her expression. She heard the truck start as they stepped onto the porch, but she didn’t dare look back. Something had happened at the barn that she didn’t understand.

When Chris had swung the barn door open, Mary Jo felt her panic. Her blue eyes had been wide with alarm, and her shoulders tightly hunched. But what had scared Chris so much?

She didn’t know Frances or Chris well enough individually, let alone the nature of the history they obviously shared, to even guess at the cause. She decided to go with the flow. If either offered an explanation, that would be fine. Until then, she would let them deal with what was clearly a private matter between them.

Frances led the way into the house, and Mary Jo followed her into the kitchen. She looked around while Frances busied herself at the stove.

The back door led straight into the kitchen, a small room typical of older homes. The linoleum floor was old, wrinkled, and cracked throughout the well-used areas. Green-painted walls topped ceramic tiles that rose four feet from the floor. The ceiling was brown with age. Mary Jo saw a sink in a room off the kitchen and guessed it was a small bathroom. An old maple table and chairs sat to one side of the room, allowing space to get into the cupboards lining the far wall, while the stove and refrigerator occupied the right wall. An open door to the immediate right led to a woodshed, and down the stairs, an opening she assumed led to the basement.

Frances set the table for three. The delicious aroma of fresh cinnamon scones and coffee filled Mary Jo’s senses, making her mouth water and her stomach growl.

Frances had called her last night to ask if she could come this morning to check on Gordon’s eye. She coupled that with an invitation to stay for breakfast, which Mary Jo happily accepted. She didn’t mention that Chris would be here as well.

Frances took the bacon and a dozen eggs out of the fridge. She unwrapped the bacon, placed it in a frying pan, and turned on the stove burner. She cracked nine eggs into a bowl, added some milk, salt, and pepper and briskly whisked them together before dumping the contents of the bowl into a separate frying pan. She lit another stove burner and set the pan on a low flame.

“Mary Jo, would you please watch the bacon and eggs while I go see what’s taking Chris so long?”

Mary Jo set her bag down, moved to the oven, and took the spatula that Frances offered her. “Sure,” she replied, but Frances was already out the door, striding purposefully in the barn’s direction.

She idly moved the congealing eggs around the pan and turned the bacon slices over. I wonder what in the hell is going on with those two?

*   *   *

Frances opened the barn door and smiled to see that Chris had begun to grab for the handle from the inside. “We have to stop meeting like this,” she said.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Chris replied.

“Sweetie, are you okay?” Frances reached out and grabbed Chris’s chin, concerned about the tears threatening to escape.

“Yeah.” Chris wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “I just kind of flipped a little. All kinds of things started going through my head.”

“Did something happen?” Frances asked.

Chris’s laugh sounded half-hearted. “When I turned into your drive, Daisy wasn’t there. I was afraid something had happened to you, and I got scared.”

Frances knew it took a lot for Chris to make such an admission. “Oh, Chris, I’m fine. I asked Mary Jo to come over and check on Gordy today. Daisy was waiting for you at the top of the drive as usual, and Mary Jo gave the little brat a ride to the house.” Frances smiled and gazed at Chris until she got a smile in return.

“Come on, let’s go eat breakfast,” she said. “Mary Jo is going to wonder what happened to us. I left her in the kitchen with a spatula.” Frances looped her arm through Chris’s and tugged her through the open barn door.

“I feel sort of foolish about what happened.” Chris took a step and stopped. “You know how much you mean to me, right?”

“Of course I do. And I love you, too,” Frances said softly. She pulled Chris into her arms and hugged her tight. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’re going to make me cry again.” Chris sniffled as Frances kissed her cheek.

“Okay, I’m okay, really,” Chris said. “Let’s go eat, I’m starved.”

She looked more settled, but Frances was keenly aware of how close Chris had come to losing her composure. Although this time wasn’t as close as when she’d helped Chris get through the dark days of mourning following Bill’s death. She had recruited neighbors to help with the farm when Chris couldn’t get out of bed. Despite Frances’s ongoing encouragement, depression had dominated Chris’s world.

Feeling lifeless and without purpose wasn’t new to Frances. She had known Chris needed to overcome those feelings before she could heal. When Chris finally emerged from the veil of sadness, she had briefly turned to alcohol until one winter’s day, when Frances had stopped by the farm to check on her and found Chris passed out on the couch.

Frances was able to rouse her from the heavy haze of liquor, but Chris had woken in a panic when she realized that she had let the dogs out hours before. Chris ran toward the barn in search of the dogs, not bothering with boots or a coat. Apparently, when Chris hadn’t come to the door to let them in, all three dogs had headed to the barn and snuggled up on their beds in the warm office. From that day forward, Frances made Chris promise to swear off drinking in excess. In return, Frances promised to support her in times of need.

“Now that’s the Chris I know.” Frances put her arm around Chris’s waist as they walked to the house.

Mary Jo turned to greet them as they came in the door. “Hey, you guys, breakfast is ready. I saw you heading up from the barn, so I poured your coffee. Frances, I found the scones in the oven, so everything is on the table.”

“Wow,” Frances said. “This is the life, having breakfast on the table right as you walk into the house. You might have to change your career.”

Mary Jo glanced at her watch. “Speaking of which, if we don’t start soon, I might have to eat and run. I have to geld a couple of colts this morning.”

“You can’t operate on an empty stomach. Sit down and eat,” Frances told her.

Chris sat down to eat with Frances and Mary Jo, her eyes downcast as she filled her plate first. She was well into her eggs and third slice of bacon and reaching for her second scone before Mary Jo even lifted her fork. Realizing how quiet it had become, she glanced up at a grinning Frances, who had been watching both her and Mary Jo. Chris looked at Mary Jo, who was staring at her, brown eyes wide and her mouth hanging open.

“What?” Chris exclaimed as scone crumbs dropped from her mouth.

Mary Jo’s expression didn’t change. “It’s just that… I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody eat that fast before.”

Frances burst out laughing. “Well, Mary Jo, it could be because it seems Chris never eats unless she comes here. I keep telling her she doesn’t eat enough to keep a cricket alive.”

Mary Jo said, “Well, I can understand her being busy at the farm, but how can she keep going if she doesn’t eat?”

“I honestly don’t know. She must eat something, but I really can’t say.”

Chris sat up straight in her chair and rested her forearms on the table. “Um, I’m still here, guys.” Her gaze captured Mary Jo’s. “I can cook and I eat just fine, thank you. I’m just always hungry when I get here.”

Mary Jo boldly returned Chris’s stare as she ate a few bites. “I’ve got to get going,” she said. “Frances, do you mind if I take a scone and a coffee refill?”

“Of course not, dear. You take whatever you want.”

“Thanks.” Turning to Chris, she asked, “You won’t be left hungry if I take one will you?”

Chris met the challenge and raised an eyebrow. “No, I think I can manage to make it on whatever’s left.”

Mary Jo held onto the table and stood. “Thanks so much for breakfast, Frances.” She took a scone from the plate as Frances refilled her coffee mug.

“Good Lord, Mary Jo, thank you. You’re the one who made most of it,” Frances said. “We’ll have to do this again sometime soon.”

“Yeah, that sounds nice. See you.” After a final glance at Chris, she grabbed her doctor’s bag, and headed out the door.

Chris took a sip of coffee and nodded in return. “Yeah, see you.” Without hesitation, she returned her attention to her plate.

“She likes you, you know,” Frances said as soon as they were alone.

Chris glanced up from her plate. She had been avoiding looking at Frances. The woman was far too perceptive. “Uh-huh.” She swallowed the last of her scone. “Well, I should get back to work. That wood isn’t going to split itself.” She started to get up from her chair. Frances frowned, and Chris sat back down. “What?”

“She would be good for you.”

“What are you, a matchmaker now?” Chris narrowed her eyes and scowled. “Plus, you don’t even know that she bats for my team.”

“Does she?”

“Well, since you asked, yes, it appears she does. But that’s beside the point.”

“Hon, think about what happened this morning. I just think it would be good for you to have someone your own age to hang around with. I’m not saying that you necessarily need to seek a relationship with her, but you need somebody. A friend. ”

Chris grimaced. “Trying to get rid of me?” she asked in a pout.

Frances’s smile was filled with affection. “Lord, no, I just worry about you. When it gets to be my time, I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Chris sighed deeply as she leaned back in her chair. “I know. It’s just, well, you know, I have a hard time with people sometimes.”

Frances got up, went around to Chris’s side of the table, and bent over to hug her. “I know, honey. But you know you can’t have too many friends.”

Chris laughed and leaned into her “Yeah, especially ones that have seen me naked.” She looked up and grinned wickedly at Frances’s surprise. “Mary Jo caught me sleeping at the pond the other day, and no, I didn’t have any clothes on.”

Frances chuckled. “See? Come on, let’s get busy.”

Chris helped Frances clear the table and do the dishes. Familiar and comfortable in silence, they made quick work of the kitchen chores. Chris finished off the bacon, ate the remaining scone, and downed one more cup of coffee as they cleaned.

The four dogs had been resting on the front porch, but jumped to their feet when the door opened. The pack greeted Chris and Frances with wagging tails and happy yips. In a display of good manners, the dogs waited until both women went down the porch steps before leaping off together, already playing.

Clouds had given way to some sun. The wind was pleasant as it rustled loose leaves across the barnyard. Chris believed the weatherman had had a stroke of luck, rather than genius.

She decided that using the gas log splitter would be best after all. She’d gotten over her earlier scare and felt ready to focus on the task at hand.

By the time she was ready to leave for home to do her own chores, Chris had almost finished splitting the wood. She begged off staying for dinner, despite Frances’s insistence. Three exhausted dogs climbed into her truck, leaving an equally worn-out Daisy lying on the porch. Chris’s tired muscles complained as she followed the dogs into the cab. She started the truck, waved, and went down the drive.

When she arrived home, the dogs piled out and ran toward the house. They’d had a long day and were ready for dinner. “Come on,” Chris said, “we’ve got a few chores to do before we get to eat.” She strode to the barn to a chorus of expectant nickers.

When she reached the feed room, she pulled a box from a shelf and doled out two biscuits to each dog. “There, that should hold you over till I’m done.” They crunched hungrily as she started down the aisle with the feed cart.

The horses came into their stalls when Chris dumped feed into their pans. Everyone seemed happy and in one piece. The three racetrack mares were a little antsy, but since they’d graduated to going out on small runs, they could wait until tomorrow for some real exercise.

Two days before, Chris had mounted panel gates to the outside of the barn to introduce the racetrack mares to the outdoors. She’d made the runs wide enough for them to turn comfortably, and the extra space allowed them more freedom to move around as well as enjoy basking in the sun. The pens weren’t long enough, however, for the horses to manage anything faster than a walk. The setup also helped the mares become accustomed to seeing each other and the rest of the herd.

Because today had turned out to be so nice, the horses had kept their stalls clean—even Stetson, which was a blessing. She put the feed cart away and strolled down the aisle with the girls close behind. When she walked out of the barn, she suddenly realized how short the days had become.

She stopped, leaned against the barn door, and looked up. Bright Jupiter hung in the eastern sky, and more stars were beginning to show. After a moment, she took a deep, cleansing breath and made her way back to the house. The absence of wind made the night seem warmer than the daylight hours had managed.

She heard a lone owl hooting in the woods. They would be looking for mates in the coming weeks then nesting in the coldest months of winter.

For some reason, although dead on her feet, Chris felt restless. She couldn’t quite put a finger on it. Maybe it was the change of seasons, or maybe it was time for a personal change. God knew she had changed a lot since the day her childhood ended, and she’d left her old life behind.

She knew Frances was right about many things, but in Chris’s opinion, trust was a delicate gift, not something she gave away freely. As a child, you were supposed to learn to trust the one who had given birth to you, as well as the rest of the family, but she’d suffered terribly at the hands of relatives who had stopped caring for her. Had they ever cared? Because of their abuse, her own survival had become a priority, and she’d escaped. But she’d been incapable of escaping the nightmares.

She brushed away thoughts of her past. Nothing good came of rehashing that time of anger, hate, frustration, and sorrow. Therapy had helped. It had taught her how to summon the strength to deal with all those memories and focus on staying alive and in control. Chris had Bill to thank for the strides she’d made. Through him, she had also learned she could hold somebody close to her heart. The horses and her dogs were her teachers now.

She went inside, fed the dogs, and stood in front of the fridge with the door open, peering inside for ideas. Not finding any, she opted for a beer.

After taking a spoon from the drawer, she went to the pantry, found the peanut butter jar and chocolate chips, and picked up her beer on the way out the door.

It felt good to sit on the front steps. The repeated crouching and standing all day had taken a toll on her legs. Chris put a good handful of chocolate chips into the peanut butter. She stirred, lifted a large spoonful out of the jar, and nibbled as more thoughts raced through her head.

Maybe she should make more of an effort to know Mary Jo. The woman had made an obvious attempt to flirt this morning. A good thing, since Chris wasn’t confident enough to make the first move. Even at the bar, she’d wait for someone to approach her to satisfy her physical needs. She wondered if that was why she avoided getting into a relationship. As she thought about the women she knew at Angie’s, she couldn’t imagine herself with any of them, even Sky, for anything other than sex.

Chris licked the spoon clean, finished her beer, and got up. After a last look at the star-filled sky, she went into the house and found the girls waiting for her just inside the door.

“Okay, I’m beat,” she said. “How about we go upstairs, grab a shower, and hit the hay?”

The dogs responded by bounding up the stairs. When she reached the top, Chris found them flopped on her bed. Despite complaining muscles, she stripped and dropped her clothes where she stood. She took a quick look around at the floor and noticed a few other identical piles. “God, the laundry is still there. I’m going to teach you guys how to run the washer one of these days.”

She turned the shower to hot and waited a moment for the water to heat. Once inside, she closed her eyes as warm water massaged her aching muscles. She barely had the energy to rub a bar of soap over her body. Her nipples involuntarily hardened as her hand moved over her breasts. Without much thought, her other hand moved down to her thighs.

Steam billowed around her as her hand crept lower. Her fingers found her clitoris and began a slow circular movement as she tried to satisfy her need without success.

She leaned her head against the shower wall, sighed, and decided she was just too tired. She turned the water off and exited the shower. After toweling herself dry, she was almost comatose when she joined the sleeping dogs on the bed.

Despite her exhaustion, Chris lay in bed awhile, thinking about the impact Mary Jo might have in her life. Frances seemed to like her a lot. Maybe it was time to tear down a wall and let some fresh air in.

As if that decision had eased some part of her mind, she gave in to sleep.

Chapter 9

The stallion’s head drooped low, his eyes glazed, and his lips hung loosely. His body started to sway as the anesthesia took effect. Doc pushed the horse’s hip while Mary Jo held the lead attached to the halter. She pulled the stallion’s neck out straight, encouraging him to go down gently. “Easy big guy, easy there,” she said when his knees buckled. She took a step to the left as Doc pushed to the right; they wanted the horse in the center of the surgical room so they could maneuver him onto the floor-level table. The drugs coursing through his bloodstream took over, and the horse finally went down as planned.

Doc moved to the controls, and the table and horse rose up four inches. Mary Jo tied the horse’s legs on the right side to the restraint loops, and Doc assisted her with the other side. The left hind leg had to be suspended, allowing access to the stallion’s belly, and then Doc was able to raise the table to waist height.

Mary Jo put the trachea tube in and hooked it to the breathing machine. Donna, who’d had the machine running before the horse went to sleep, adjusted the oxygen and anesthesia mix. She would time the horse’s respiratory and heart rates while the two doctors worked.

“How old is this horse?” Donna asked.

“Six years old,” Mary Jo answered. She and Doc, already dressed in scrubs, helped each other get into their surgical gowns. They put on sterile gloves and masks, opened the instrument trays, and set to work.

“Why is it that people wait so long to geld cryptorchids?” Donna complained, more to herself than anyone.

As the owners had only consulted Doc, he answered, “They were waiting to see if the other testicle would drop, then they could’ve gelded him in the pasture. But the horse got too aggressive, and they decided to have the surgery.”

“Well, duh,” Donna said. “I’d be ornery, too, if I had one of those balls stuck up inside me.” She squirted Betadine onto the horse and began to scrub the surgical area.

Mary Jo giggled from behind her mask and added, “There’s reason number two to be thankful I’m a woman.”

“What’s number one?” Doc asked, his eyes twinkling wickedly over his mask.

Mary Jo blushed. “You weren’t supposed to ask that.” She stole a look at Donna, who sported a devilish grin herself and continued, “Okay, fine. Since you insist, it’s sex. I think sex is better for women. There, can we get to work?”

Obviously not willing to let her off the hook yet, Doc badgered her. “Better for women and men? Or better for women and women?”

Mary Jo knew whatever she said, she was going to leave herself wide open to Doc’s further amusement. She also knew he was giving her the perfect opportunity to come out. She was sure he and his wife already knew, but they’d never discussed it. Oh, sweet Jesus, why now? How do I get myself into these things?

“Well, in my many years of experience,” she began in her gravest tone, “I think sex is better with whomever you’re attracted to, or in love with.”

“Uh-huh.” Doc was already distracted by the task at hand. “Okay, we’ll continue this later over coffee, shall we?”

Relief washed over her, although she knew it was only temporary. She hadn’t ever denied her sexuality, she’d just never found the right moment to admit it to them. She knew they wouldn’t think ill of her. Doc and Donna would accept it and that would be the end of it. Then why do I feel like a deer caught in the headlights?

She shrugged, took a deep breath, and began mentally reciting the surgical steps she’d be performing. Doc had told her yesterday she would be lead surgeon on the procedure. She had performed it a couple of times at school but never as lead. She was slightly nervous until she selected her scalpel and began the incision. Once she exposed the first layer of tissue, her training took over, and she delved into the surgery with more poise.

An hour later as Mary Jo stitched the abdomen closed, Doc said, “As soon as he’s up, we’ll have that coffee break.”

Renewed nervousness swept through her, and she automatically stiffened.

Normal protocol dictated leading the semiconscious horse to the recovery stall, where one or both vets would keep vigil until they were sure the horse wasn’t suffering any complications. Heart and gut sounds were monitored every ten minutes. Once he was semi-alert and breathing comfortably, she’d pull the trachea tube. When he came fully awake, the horse would be led back to his original stall.

While she and Doc kept an eye on the horse, Donna cleaned the table and counted the instruments. She took them to the sink, thoroughly washed them, and returned them to the tray. After wrapping the entire assortment in surgical drape material, she put it into the autoclave for sterilization.

Donna finished her task and left Mary Jo alone with Doc. The wonderful aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the door a few minutes later, and Donna reappeared in the office doorway with three full mugs balanced on a surgical tray.

“You’re a goddess,” Doc said, his affection clear as he took his coffee.

“And don’t you forget that, big guy,” Donna replied.

Doc handed Mary Jo a mug of coffee. “You know I was just fooling with you earlier, MJ.”

Mary Jo playfully punched him on the arm, “Yeah, I know.” She purposely stalled by blowing on her coffee and then took a long sip. “I guess I should’ve come clean a long time ago.”

Doc raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

Donna jumped to her rescue. “Richard, will you quit making this so hard on her?” She gave Mary Jo a sly grin. “MJ, we love you no matter what. I hope you know that.”

“I do, but he’s going to make me say it, isn’t he?” Mary Jo said. “Yes, I’m a lesbian. No, I’m not dating anybody. Okay?”

Donna and Doc laughed. “I just love screwing with you,” Doc said. “Well, not literally of course.” He put an arm around Donna’s shoulders and the other around MJ’s “You know, you should get to know Chris Martel better.”

Mary Jo gasped in mock horror. “I cannot believe you just outed her like that. Frances wouldn’t even say anything about Chris’s lifestyle.” She pushed the vision of a naked Chris out of her mind. “Anyway, as if it’s any of your business, we talked about what happened at her place and everything’s fine. She seems nice, and we kind of made up.”

“That’s great,” Doc said. “Oh, before I forget, I want to discuss something with you. You know how busy we’ve been this summer, but winter’s coming and those months are chronically slow. What I’ve come up with should give us both some downtime. On days that aren’t busy, one of us will take care of appointments, and the other will be on call for emergencies. Then we’ll just swap the next time. Obviously, we won’t do that every day, but it should give us each some more leisure time. How’s that sound?”

Mary Jo brightened. “That’ll be great.”

Donna patted Doc’s chest and reminded him he had a call to go to. Mary Jo volunteered to remain at the clinic for a while to monitor the horse. She found herself intrigued with Doc’s proposal. Plain and simple, her social life had sucked since she took the job, although she wouldn’t trade the work for the world.

The last time she’d spoken with Frances, she’d been invited to the Thursday morning breakfast ritual, which Chris habitually attended. With more time off, she’d be able to go. The possibility of spending more time with someone she found so attractive caused her to grin, and a rush of anticipation coursed through her.

On the other hand, she hoped by accepting the invitation, she wouldn’t be intruding into the relationship between Chris and Frances.

Mary Jo checked the horse’s vitals and his incision one more time. All were within regular parameters, the incision was clean and dry, and the alert horse had started to nibble on some hay.

When Mary Jo wandered back to the office, Donna was working on the billing. Mary Jo knew the business was doing great with an extra vet in the office, and Doc had given her a modest salary with the possibility of raises if he could afford it.

She wasn’t in any great need of funds and wished Doc would put the extra money back into the practice by buying new and updated equipment. Her parents had set up a trust fund for her when she was little, so her wages went toward rent, meals, and saving for a house of her own. She used the dividends from the trust fund for play.

“Need any help?” Mary Jo stood by Donna’s chair as she worked.

“Nope, I’m actually almost done. But if you wait a few minutes, you can take this stuff to the post office on your way home.”

“Sure, that’s not a problem.” A curious thought struck her. “Donna, how long have you guys known I’m a lesbian?”

Donna turned and looked up at her. “Well, being the worldly people that we are, we sort of knew when we saw the rainbow decal on your truck.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s not being subtle at all, huh?”

“It doesn’t bother us, you know. I’ve always believed that the person you want to spend your life with should be the person you’ve fallen in love with, whether they’re male or female.”

Mary Jo put a hand on Donna’s shoulder. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

“Okay, I’m finished here for the day. I’ll have Richard check the horse when he gets home. You have your cell, so you might as well head out of here. Thanks for going to the post office.”

“You are so welcome. It’s on my way home anyway. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Mary Jo picked up the stack of mail and headed out the door to her truck, full of renewed love for Donna and Doc. Like family but better. At least I can talk to them in person.

She sighed in contentment as she drove. She glanced at the houses she passed and wondered how she had gotten lucky enough to live in such a great place.

The post office was on the edge of town. She pulled into the drive, stopped next to a mailbox, stuffed in the envelopes, and continued on her way. From here on, the number of farms increased. She passed dairy farms and a few farms with sheep, but the majority were private residences with barns in the backyard. In her experience, most of them had one or two horses that were more pasture pets than working animals.

Enjoying the feel of the sun and the breeze as she drove, she held her arm out the window, palm open, and tried to capture some of the wind until a big beetle hit her hand and exploded.

“Ow! Oh shit, that’s just gross.” She tried to keep her eyes on the road while she looked for something to wipe off the splattered bug guts. She eventually found a McDonald’s napkin and tried to clean her hand.

Somewhat successful, she drove with her palm turned up in her lap until she could get home to wash it. “Gross, gross, gross,” she chanted and started to giggle. By the time she arrived home, laughter-induced tears were running down her cheeks.

Still chuckling to herself about the bug incident, she found herself dying to tell someone. She picked up the phone to call her parents but quickly realized they were on a cruise somewhere and unreachable. Of course, they probably wouldn’t get the humor of it anyway. Chris instantly came to mind, but she dared not call.

She hoped Chris and Frances would help her fill up some of the promised free time. If they didn’t, she honestly wasn’t sure what she’d do with herself.

Chapter 10

Frances heard gravel crunching as a vehicle came to a stop in her driveway. Daisy’s familiar impatient bark signaled the visitor’s arrival.

“Oh good, Chris is here.” She wiped her hands dry, threw the towel over the edge of the sink, and went out to meet her.

Chris let a swarm of eager dogs out of her truck’s backseat as Frances walked up to her. Frances’s automatic smile disappeared when Chris turned to her.

Disheveled appearance and dark circles under her eyes made it obvious that Chris hadn’t gotten enough, if any, sleep. Frances suspected she’d been out last night.

“Chris, you look exhausted. Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I feel great, why?” Chris glanced away.

Frances’s dander rose despite an effort to control her temper. “You went to Rochester again, didn’t you?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Darn it, Chris! I would think you’d be more careful. If you start drinking socially again, you’ll end up hurting yourself, or others for that matter.”

“Frances, I am not being self destructive if that’s what you’re implying. I promised you a long time ago that I wouldn’t do that again. I’m fine.”

Frances frowned. “Chris, you’re not fine. I just wish you had someone.” She reached out and touched Chris’s shoulder.

Chris shrugged the hand off. “What? A babysitter?”

The set of Chris’s jaw told Frances she was attempting to control the tone of her voice. “No. Of course not. But you should get out and meet more people in places other than a bar. Meet somebody who has similar interests. I can’t imagine you’d find someone like that in a bar. You need to make more friends.”

“I’ve got you, Frances. You’re all I need,” Chris said with a pleading look in her eyes.

“Oh, honey, I know. But I can’t do the things I used to when I was younger. I don’t ride anymore, and I can’t take long walks like we used to.”

Chris’s frustration was evident. “I don’t trust anyone else.” She ran her hands through her hair, crossed her arms over her chest, and stood staring out at the pastures.

“One of these days,” Frances said, “you’re going to have to learn. Learn to trust yourself more as well as someone else. Promise me that at least you’ll try.”

Chris snapped at her, “Right. Fine. Whatever. I’m going to unload your feed.” With that, she stomped away

Frances stood rooted in place. She’d seen Chris in moods like this, and usually no amount of talking would change it. Instead, she returned to the house and started making breakfast. She glanced outside a couple of times while cooking to see if Chris’s truck was still by the barn.

A pounding drew her to the window, and she peeked out. Chris was kneeling on the roof of the barn, swinging a hammer. She often vented her emotions by working.

How could Chris blame her for how she felt? Frances was frustrated that Chris kept everything bottled up. Her friend worked hard to keep everyone at bay and not let them get to know the real her.

Some days, like today, Frances wasn’t even sure she knew the real Chris herself.

*   *   *

Mary Jo considered the day unusually humid for late October. Clouds had moved in during the night, keeping the typical fall temperatures at bay. The trees were past their peak in color, but they still lent magnificence to the landscape, although the slightest breeze sent a shower of leaves to the ground. Soon the woods would be bare, awaiting the inevitable snow and cold.

The idea of taking advantage of the day proved irresistible. After driving to Frances’s place, she parked her truck in front of the house. She turned off the engine and heard pounding coming from the direction of the barn.

Frances came out of the house and strode toward Mary Jo as she swung the truck’s door open.

“Hello, Frances.” Mary Jo hadn’t been able to make her breakfast date in three weeks. Something always came up, like last-minute appointments and emergencies. She was glad to be able to spend time with her new friends at last. “What’s with all the pounding?” She took a fleeting look at the barn.

“Good morning.” Frances followed her gaze. “Oh, it’s Chris. She found a leak in the roof over the horses and decided it couldn’t wait until after breakfast. Why don’t you see if you can coax her down for a few minutes?”

Mary Jo laughed. “Yeah, we both know it won’t take but three point two seconds for her to eat. I’ll go see what I can do.”

Frances joined in, but her laugh sounded half-hearted. “Tell her I made her a Bloody Mary for her hangover.”

“Ha! What was she doing? Out drinking last night?”

With a frown, Frances answered abruptly, “Yes, she was.” She spun on her heel and hurried back to the house.

Confused by Frances’s abrupt mood change as well as the shadow that had crossed her face, Mary Jo pondered the reason. Giving up, she followed the noise to the back of the barn. She caught a glimpse of tanned skin as she rounded the corner and saw Chris on the roof, bent over, and expertly swinging a hammer. Clad in nothing but cargo shorts and a sports bra, Chris was all taut muscle and smooth flesh. The muscles in her legs and arms flexed as she worked, and a light coating of sweat shimmered on her skin.

She has no idea how hot she looks up there. And I don’t mean temperature. Mary Jo sighed, feeling an all too familiar warmth flare between her legs. Her mouth was dry, and she was barely able to utter a sound. She cleared her throat, hoping it would be enough to gain Chris’s attention. Nope. Jesus, I wish my salivary glands would start working properly.

She managed to squeak, “Hey, you coming in for breakfast?”

Chris stood up straight, brushed a strand of hair off her forehead with the back of her hand, and looked down at Mary Jo. She removed a couple of the nails clamped between her lips and shoved them into her pocket.

Lucky nails, Mary Jo thought.

She waited while Chris wordlessly scrutinized her work. Obviously satisfied, Chris locked eyes with Mary Jo, and a slow, flirtatious smirk spread across her face as she said, “Do I really need to come? Before breakfast?”

Mary Jo ignored Chris’s sexual innuendo. “Frances said to tell you she has your Bloody Mary ready.” Chris’s eyes narrowed. “Out late last night?” she said, hardly believing she dared ask the question.

“Tell her I’ll be right there.” Chris whipped around and stomped to the other end of the roof. Within thirty seconds, the pounding resumed.

Mary Jo stared but saw nothing but empty sky. She returned to the house, wondering what had just happened.

“Was it something I said? Should I have played along with her? God, this woman confuses me, yet I can’t help wanting to be around her,” she said to herself.

When she walked into the house, Frances was sitting at the table, staring into space. The mug of coffee she held no longer steamed. Apparently, the sound of the opening door broke her trance. She got up, went to the sink, and dumped her coffee. She didn’t turn around.

Mary Jo glanced at the table. Oddly enough, the only thing on it was the Bloody Mary. “Is everything okay, Frances?” she asked quietly from the doorway.

“I’m just worried about Chris, as usual.”

Mary Jo moved closer and attempted to make eye contact. “Did something happen?”

Frances blew a sigh and turned to face her. “Yes… no… oh, Mary Jo, she goes to that bar up in Rochester. It worries me because it’s in a bad part of the city. She didn’t go up there for a long time, and now it seems she’s frequenting it more.”

“Have you talked to her about how you feel?”

“More times than I can count. I probably shouldn’t have said anything this morning. It’s that she’s had issues before.” Frances looked down. “I do what I can, but I think she’s just lonely. She’s either too proud to admit it or doesn’t know it herself.”

Mary Jo lightly touched Frances’s arm. “Would you like me to see if she’ll talk to me?”

“Frankly, I don’t know if she will. She’s managed to build a wall between herself and the rest of the world. I suppose it’s a product of her past. Oh, she comes across as this strong, confident woman, but behind that wall, she’s very insecure.”

Their quiet conversation ended when Mary Jo heard Chris scraping mud off her boots. “Don’t worry,” she whispered, “I’ll see what I can do.”

Frances acknowledged her promise with a slight nod.

Mary Jo busied herself setting the table while Frances dealt with the food. When she heard the door open and saw Chris coming inside, she stole a glance at Frances and returned to her task.

“That leak over the stalls is all patched up,” Chris said. She walked to the table, reached around Mary Jo, and snatched up her Bloody Mary. After winking at Mary Jo, she went over to Frances. She set the glass down and put her arms around Frances’s shoulders from behind.

Glancing out of the corner of her eye, Mary Jo saw Chris lean in and whisper something in Frances’s ear.

Frances grabbed a dishtowel and flicked it at Chris. “Oh, go get washed up, you.”

Chris took the towel and flipped it over her shoulder. She turned on the sink faucet and splashed water on her face. When she finished washing up, she leaned against the counter and rubbed the towel over her face and hands.

Mary Jo noticed the sudden quiet and took a quick look up. She barely resisted staring at Chris’s bare stomach. Instead, she found herself gazing into her blue eyes. She smiled a little, broke her gaze, and returned the coffeepot to the stove.

“Hey,” Chris said to Mary Jo. “Do you ride at all?”

“Me?” Mary Jo asked, going on when Chris nodded, “I haven’t in a while. Why?”

“It’s such a gorgeous day out, I thought I’d take a ride out to the back forty. I was wondering if you’d want to go, too.”

“I’d love to, but I’ve got a couple of horses to see this morning.” Mary Jo hid the shock she felt at the invitation, although she was flattered as well. Shit, shit, shit. Why didn’t I let Doc take those appointments? Her heart fluttered in her chest.

There were only ten scheduled calls to make. Either she or Doc could have easily handled all of them, letting the other have the day off, but they’d agreed to split them up so both could enjoy some free time unless there was an emergency.

“Well, maybe another time, then.” Chris pulled a chair out from the table. “But I’ll be around the farm all day if you find you can get away. Just give me a call. Be right back.” She disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

Frances pulled the casserole dish out of the oven. “Mary Jo, would you please put a hot pad on the table? Then we’ll be ready to eat.”

“Sure.” Mary Jo opened a drawer under the cupboards and started to search.

“Nope. Look in the next drawer down.”

Mary Jo automatically glanced up in Chris’s direction, and all thoughts evaporated. Chris stood in the bathroom doorway, having changed into a white T-shirt minus the sports bra. The shirt left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Perfect breasts pushed against the fabric and hinted of the nipples underneath.

She realized she wasn’t breathing as she stared outright at Chris. Suddenly embarrassed, she hid her face and gazed deliberately into the next drawer down. The heat of a flush crept up her neck. Chris moved to the table and took a seat opposite Frances. Oh, thank God, I couldn’t possibly have hit my mouth with my fork with her sitting across from me.

While waiting for Mary Jo, Frances had put the hot casserole dish on a towel. Mary Jo distracted herself by replacing the towel with the pad she had found.

She handed Frances her plate to fill, trying unsuccessfully to look at anything but Chris, but she needn’t have worried about Chris noticing her frequent glances. Apparently, she wasn’t aware of anything except the contents of her plate. So far, the Bloody Mary had gone untouched, as if to prove a point. While they ate, Frances and Chris engaged in conversation regarding the rest of the barn roof.

Mary Jo set her fork on the side of her plate and listened, while unabashedly examining Chris’s profile as she talked to Frances. She watched in fascination as the muscles in Chris’s jaw clenched and relaxed while she chewed. When she frowned, a little dimple formed on the side of her face.

Chris absently pushed a strand of hair off her forehead and, without warning, asked Mary Jo. “Where’d you say you were from?”

“Huh?” Mary Jo grunted, surprised at the sudden change in topic. “Oh, um, over near Poughkeepsie. It’s where—”

“Yeah, I know where it is.” Chris’s eyes narrowed, and her voice was so sharp, Mary Jo fancied it could have split hair. “I’ve got to get going. I have a bunch of horses to work today.” She pushed away from the table and rose abruptly from her chair. She put her dishes in the sink and walked out the door without another word.

Mary Jo stayed seated with Frances. What the hell had just happened? She heard Chris whistle for the dogs. A truck door slammed, and the engine roared as Chris drove down the drive.

When the sound of the engine faded, the only thing Mary Jo heard was the ticking of the wall clock above the table.

“Did I just miss something?” Mary Jo flushed with nervousness.

“Well, I’m not exactly sure what happened, Mary Jo,” Frances said. “Chris’s been in an odd mood this morning.”

“So I gathered. Should we do something?” Mary Jo got the coffeepot and topped up Frances’s cup, then her own.

Frances sighed deeply. “Would you mind going to see her after work today?”

Mary Jo was completely taken aback by the request. “I think I’d be the last person she’d want to see, especially since it was obviously something I said.” She returned the pot to the stove and sat back down at the table.

“She probably wouldn’t admit it, but you going over there might do her some good.” Frances idly stirred her coffee with a spoon. “She gets herself in such a funk sometimes. I think you might just be the fresh face she needs.” After some thought, she added, “Don’t be offended if she tries to brush you off. It’s just her way of hiding from the world.”

“So if she comes at me with a pitchfork, I shouldn’t run?”

Frances laughed. “Well, only if the tines are pointed right at you. Seriously, Chris isn’t the violent type. She wouldn’t hurt a flea. She just won’t admit to herself that she needs to open up a little. It’s difficult for her. I think she’d rather work herself to death than try to express herself to someone.”

Mary Jo was slightly perplexed. “She sure doesn’t seem like an introvert. Every time I’ve been around her, she seems so confident.” Despite feeling a bit self-conscious, she said, “I’ve even gotten the feeling that she’s tried to flirt with me a few times.”

“I think that’s the part of Chris that wants to break through. I know it’s not lost on you, what a nice-looking woman she is. Chris once told me she’d rather have somebody look at her body and forget about talking. She likes to keep all her feelings pushed down deep, but they eventually come out at unexpected and completely inappropriate times. We saw a little of that this morning.”

Mary Jo recalled Chris standing framed in the bathroom doorway and agreed. “Okay, I’ll try to sneak over there after calls if it’s not too late. I’ll let you know one way or the other, but if I turn up missing tomorrow, you can bring out the hounds and start scouring the woods for a shallow grave.”

“Oh, you. You’ll be fine.” Frances chuckled as she got to her feet to locate a Tupperware container and lid in the cupboard. “You’ll take some of this with you, right?”

“Yes, I will. I must remember to bring all your containers back.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t run out anytime soon.” Frances spooned casserole into the container and snapped the lid on. “Thanks, Mary Jo. I’m not saying it’ll be easy getting to know Chris, but I think it’ll be good for both of you.”

“Frances, are you trying to play matchmaker?” Mary Jo kidded.

“Whatever happens, happens for a reason.” Frances smiled and handed her the container. “Here you go. So, you’ll call later?”

“Yup.” Mary Jo hefted the container. “Thanks. This’ll keep me going for a meal or two. I have to get moving.” She went out the door and left in her truck.

Between calls, Mary Jo rehearsed what she might say to Chris. Besides trying to come up with appropriate things to say, she’d need to summon the courage to approach a sensitive subject. Poughkeepsie was obviously at the heart of why Chris stormed out of Frances’s house. Was that where her family lived? What or whom had she run away from? Or had she run to something or someone?

Mary Jo wondered if the problem had anything to do with Chris’s sexuality. Was it possible she’d been kicked out of her home because of it?

Idle thoughts and questions ran through Mary Jo’s mind as she drove. She considered broaching the subject of Frances’s main concern: Chris’s drinking. Then again, she’d probably end up sounding like a parrot and appear to be choosing sides. Or worse yet, come across as judgmental.

She decided to drop in on Chris and let fate take its course. If Chris felt like talking, so be it. She would listen. Should that not be the case, she’d deal with it.

Her schooling and training as a vet had taught her to think on her feet. She hoped she wouldn’t find herself tongue-tied when that training was put to the test in the presence of Chris Martel.

Chapter 11

Chris drove home, lost in thought. Poughkeepsie. Of all the places Mary Jo could have named, Poughkeepsie was one she never wanted to hear again.

She came from a small place just south of Poughkeepsie, a little town named Red Oaks Mills. What are the odds? Christ, I thought I’d left that all behind. Try as she might, she couldn’t keep from reliving the events of the night she ran away.

On the tenth of September, two days before her seventeenth birthday, she gave herself a birthday present. She packed as much as she could carry in her backpack. What she couldn’t pack, she wore. The long hours between nine o’clock in the evening, when she went to her room, and midnight, when They finally came upstairs to bed, dragged painfully.

She had lain down on her bed, fully clothed with the covers over her, and waited. Surges of anxiety rubbed her nerves raw, making her shiver constantly, but she knew what she had to do. Get out. Once positive They were asleep, she’d quietly slipped out of the house and walked the entire ten miles to Poughkeepsie. That was the day she’d met Bill Went. As far as she was concerned, that was the day her life began.

Chris shook her head to clear the cobwebs and discovered she was sitting in her truck in her own driveway. Her body must have taken over to get her safely home, just as her brain had sent her back years in time. The tightness that had developed in her chest bordered on the panic she’d felt when she ran away and the anger that consumed her afterward. Still upset by the unpleasant memories, she opened the door to let the dogs out.

She knew she shouldn’t work any horses in this state of mind, so she decided a walk in the woods would clear her head.

At first the dogs danced with excitement, but apparently sensing Chris’s solemn mood, they walked quietly beside her as she meandered down the trail.

When Chris arrived at the pond with the dogs, she walked onto the dock, sat down, and crossed her legs in front of her. She noticed Sadie wandering off, probably to go mouse hunting, the frogs having long since dug into the mud to hibernate. Cedar and Cagney sat down on either side of her. Chris was glad. She needed them close.

Chris put an arm around each dog and hugged them, relishing their companionship. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Her gaze followed the ripples on the water, the only evidence of the active springs below. The air was still, but she saw mare’s tails in the sky, an indication of rain to come soon. She didn’t know the scientific name of the clouds that looked like flowing horse’s tails, but it was something her grandmother always called them.

Gram. The only person Chris regretted not staying in contact with. Despite the woman being her only ally, she had been afraid Gram would tell Them. Not to be vindictive, Gram would never do that, but because she was scared for her.

Chris had made a point to see her grandmother the day before she left home. It had been difficult to conceal the pain of knowing she’d probably never see her again. Gram had sensed something, but Chris assured her it was just the ordinary crap she lived with day after day. She hugged Gram tight before saying goodbye and turned away quickly as tears streamed freely down her face.

Suddenly shaking with sobs, Chris buried her face in Cedar’s soft fur. “God damn it, I thought I was over this,” she whispered. She felt drained after releasing the long pent-up tears and concentrated on taking a deep breath without hiccupping. She wiped her face on Cedar’s coat and took another deep breath. She felt somewhat back in control of her emotions. Cagney licked her face and washed away any remaining tears.

“Thank you. You girls are so good for me,” she said softly. She blamed her momentary weakness on lack of sleep. “We’re definitely going to hit the hay early tonight, girls.” She heard nails clicking on the dock and saw Sadie trotting toward them. Her ears were back, and she wagged her tail wildly. She had a mouse in her mouth.

Chris laughed, feeling better already. “Ooh, the mighty hunter returns!” She patted the little dog. “All right, I’m okay. Let’s head back and get some work done. What do you say?” Cedar and Cagney got up, ran off the dock, and chased each other in circles. Chris rose to her feet and kept her eyes on the dogs. The dogs’ tongues lolled long as they panted, stopped, and looked at her with their tails wagging in unison.

“Let’s go.” Chris waved her hand to get them running. She grinned at their antics and followed them home.

It was mid afternoon when Chris and the dogs walked into the barn. She decided she would start out by working Stetson in the round pen. The stallion was already waiting in his stall, apparently having seen her come from the woods.

“You know what I’m going to do, big guy, sometimes even before I do,” she said as she approached his stall. Stetson greeted her with a low nicker. With halter in hand, she opened his door and went in. “You are so handsome.”

He dipped his head to nuzzle her chest. Chris stood for a moment admiring the stallion, his deep bay coat dappled now that his winter coat had grown in. The white that covered half his body seemed more brilliant against the dark brown fur and the black mane and tail. She ran her hands over the soft, gleaming coat. She stepped closer to press her face against his neck and took pleasure in the mixture of odors that defined him: horse, hay, sawdust, and the smell of the fall air.

She put the halter on the stallion and led him from the stall. Once she had him in the cross ties, she groomed him meticulously. Stetson gently took a treat from her hand when she freed the ties, and she led him to the ring and into the round pen.

After she secured the gate, Chris removed the horse’s halter and slung it onto her shoulder. “Okay, Stets, go on out.”

The horse moved away from her, alert and watchful, his ears twitching. He began to walk the circle, close to the outside, always keeping an eye on Chris. She let him stay at a walk in the deep sand for several minutes to ensure his muscles were warm and loose before she asked more of him.

Satisfied, she raised her left hand slightly. He responded by picking up a trot and moving clockwise around her. She watched the stallion glide, slowly extending his stride as he went, his inside ear always turned toward her.

Chris backed up two steps and raised her right hand. Stetson immediately turned to face her and, still at a trot, changed direction as she took two steps toward him. She remained standing in the center as he continued, never breaking rhythm. Several times, she made him change directions. She finally gave him the signal to walk and let him have a break.

As Stetson completed his fifth time around at the walk, Chris raised her right hand higher. He immediately began to canter counter-clockwise, and his mane and tail flowed behind him. She imagined the horse running on the plains. A Cherokee—a woman, of course—rode him bareback, and her hair mixed with his mane as they raced the wind. Chris snapped out of her daydream and asked him to change direction.

Judging him sufficiently warmed up, she began working him on a particularly difficult movement by backing up slightly. Obediently, the horse turned in her direction, still at a canter. She lifted her right hand, then left hand as he completed each stride. She continued to back up. With each signal, he changed leads, making it appear like he was skipping.

Chris let him slow. The stallion walked to her, his sides heaving. She put her arms around his neck. “You did so good,” she said. “What an awesome boy you are.”

“Wow.” The familiar voice was so quiet, it was almost a whisper.

Mary Jo casually leaned against the riding ring wall, with her legs crossed and hands tucked in her jeans pockets. She had changed clothes from earlier that morning and now wore faded jeans, boots, and a loose, long-sleeved shirt that she’d tucked in. Chris couldn’t help admiring her. She signaled Stetson to begin walking in a wide circle to cool off, knowing he wouldn’t stop without a signal from her.

“That absolutely took my breath away,” Mary Jo said as she closed the distance to the round pen.

“Yeah, he did very well.” Chris beamed proudly at the stallion. “It’s a movement performed in dressage. We’ve been trying to perfect it for about a year.”

“I didn’t know you could do that from the ground. I’ve only seen flying lead changes under saddle.”

“We’ve been working on it for a while. Today was the first time he did it without breaking stride.”

“Well, I’m glad I was here to see it.” Mary Jo gazed warmly at Chris and then turned her attention back to the horse. “He’s your stud, right?”

“Yeah, Ruby is bred to him. It should be a good foal.”

“Nice. Hey, I did call this time. The answering machine picked up. I figured you were out here and didn’t hear it ring.” Mary Jo’s smile faded to a slight frown. “I hope you don’t mind that I showed up unannounced.”

“Nope, not at all. I should probably have given you my cell number anyway. I don’t usually give it out to anybody except the boarders.” As an afterthought, she said, “Well, Doc has it programmed into his cell in case of emergency.”

Chris found herself completely at ease, which surprised her after the morning’s events. The tears must have washed the stress away, she thought. Either that or the lightheartedness she felt was due to Mary Jo’s welcome presence.

Mary Jo stared at Stetson.

“What’s the matter?” Chris asked.

She turned her head to look directly at Chris. In a low, quiet voice, she asked, “Will you teach me?”

“I’m sorry? I have absolutely no idea what you mean.” Chris raised her eyebrows and cocked her head to one side.

“Would you teach me to do what you just did in there? Please?”

“Um, yeah, I guess.” Chris pushed her hair off her forehead. “I’d have to come up with a horse for you to work with though.”

“Why can’t we use your stallion?”

“Because a lot of learning how to do that is teaching the horse. You learn to read their body language, how to ask them a question through your body posture, and how to tell them it’s the right or wrong answer.”

“Oh, I guess I didn’t realize it was so complicated.” Mary Jo’s heart sank. “Well, never mind, I don’t think it will work then.” She looked down at the sand and tapped the toe of her boot. When she had seen the way Chris handled Stetson with almost invisible signals, she suddenly felt the desire to learn how to do it. She just wasn’t sure she was up to that big of a commitment.

“Why not? From what I witnessed a few months ago when Hattie scared the piss out of you, it would be good for you to learn.”

Mary Jo couldn’t come up with a reason to refuse the offer that wouldn’t leave her looking like an idiot. “Well, I guess if you’re up for it.” She looked up shyly and met Chris’s steady gaze.

Chris laid a warm hand on her shoulder. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m up for it. It’ll be fun. As I said, just give me a day or two to come up with a horse for you.”

She gave Stetson the signal to come to her and pulled the halter off her shoulder. She waited until he stopped next to her. “Good boy.” She rubbed his face all over and put the halter on his head.

Mary Jo had been very conscious of Chris’s touch and found she missed it when Chris turned her attention to the horse.

“Okay, big guy, back to your stall.” Without leading the stallion, Chris took a couple steps out of the round pen.

Awed, Mary Jo watched as the horse walked right beside Chris without the use of a lead line. Chris stopped to look back at her. Incredibly, the horse didn’t move a step beyond Chris’s knee.

“Coming?” Chris asked.

“Uh, yeah. That’s cool. How did you get him to do that?”

“What? Walk beside me without a line?” When Mary Jo nodded, Chris said, “Same concept I use working in the round pen. It’s just a matter of asserting who the leader is. But you’ll learn all that as we go.” She grinned.

Mary Jo returned the grin with one of her own. The more she talked with Chris, the easier it became. She was starting to feel like herself around Chris, not a bumbling imbecile—a thought born of that first poor impression. The happy grin stayed on her face, and her step became a little lighter.

As they walked out of the ring and headed to Stetson’s stall, Mary Jo became conscious of how cool hanging around with Chris was going to be. And a big plus: Chris was a lesbian and a very attractive lesbian at that. A woman she found intriguing. It suddenly occurred to her… the more she was around Chris, the more she liked her.

Yes, Chris was moody, abrasive, and guarded. But hell, I can be, too, I guess.

Mary Jo wasn’t usually attracted to women with Chris’s personality. She had shared a few breakfasts with Chris and Frances, and she loved Frances to death, but Chris seemed to focus most of her attention on Frances. She had to admit she often felt like a third wheel in their company. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Was “jealous” the right word to describe her feelings?

She remembered when she first met Chris, how Doc had held Chris’s entire attention. No, I think the correct word would be “envy,” she thought. Maybe that’s the only way Chris can deal with being around more than one person. Recalling the comment Frances had made about Chris’s flirting, she wondered if she could penetrate the thick wall Chris had built around herself. Either way, she was looking forward to working with her, and it would be just the two of them. Maybe Chris would open up a little and reveal something about herself.

Mary Jo’s attention snapped back to Chris when she spoke as they reached Stetson’s stall.

“The dogs never heard you pull in?”

“Nope. They were sound asleep in your office when I came through.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah. That’s what I thought. I wasn’t even sure you were home, because I wasn’t accosted by them when I got out of the truck.”

The dogs soon joined them. Mary Jo thought it was curious that they hadn’t heard the truck pull up and hadn’t given her away when she came into the barn. At the time, she had walked to the office, seen the dogs sleeping soundly in their beds, and snuck by.

“Some watchdogs you are,” Chris said to them with obvious affection.

Laughing at the dogs’ antics, Mary Jo squatted down amidst the wagging tails, wiggling bodies, and long tongues that struggled to wash her entire face and clean her ears.

Chris released Stetson into his stall and watched the dogs play with Mary Jo. “You know, I can’t think of one person who’s ever been able to sneak by them. Even Doc’s arrival never goes undetected.”

Mary Jo glanced up at Chris, pleased to see a slow smile creeping over her face. “I guess they like me,” she said. “Oh, yuck!” She sputtered and wiped her lips. Sadie had managed to sneak a flick of tongue into her mouth. “You better not have had anything gross in that mouth today.” She peeked up when she heard Chris giggle. “What?”

Chris laughed outright.

“What? Tell me. Oh shit, she did, didn’t she?”

Every time Chris tried to answer her, she laughed harder. Mary Jo stood up and slapped her playfully on the arm. “Chrii-isss, you need to tell me.”

Tears running down her cheeks, Chris seemed unable to speak without succumbing to fits of giggles. She finally gained control. She grabbed Sadie into her arms, hugged her tightly, and sniffed near her muzzle. “Hmmm, what’s that smell? Yup, smells like mouse breath.”

“Oh, gross. If I start growing rodent teeth, I’ll never forgive you!” Mary Jo said. Chris’s laughter proved contagious. Before Mary Jo knew it, she was struggling to stand up and her stomach hurt. Trying hard to catch her breath, she glanced at Chris and was overcome by giggles again. Several minutes passed before she finally sobered.

“Oh, my God, that was too funny,” Chris said, still slightly breathless. “Do you want a beer or something? I’m dying of thirst.”

“Yeah, I need something to gargle with,” Mary Jo said, trying not to think about “mouse breath.”

Chris led the way down the aisle and into the office. Mary Jo followed, walking with the dogs. She sat down on the cot as Chris went to the refrigerator. The dogs hopped up next to her and settled in.

“Don’t even think about it,” Mary Jo warned Sadie when the little dog jumped into her lap.

“Coors okay?” Chris grabbed two bottles and opened them.

“Yeah.” Mary Jo looked around the spacious room. She didn’t remember exactly what the room had looked like on her earlier visit, probably because she had been so nervous the first time Chris showed it to her.

The refrigerator stood at the far end of the room, next to the door that led into the bathroom, as she recalled. Chris’s big, cherry, computer desk was positioned so she could sit with her back to the windows and face the office door. A laptop sat on the desk in the middle of several piles of paper.

Camera monitors were attached four feet up on the wall at the foot of the cot. Several pictures mounted in wooden frames hung on the walls. More photos that Bill had taken, she guessed. To the left of the door, a huge wipe-off calendar on the wall recorded breeding and likely foaling dates for all the mares under Chris’s care, she surmised. Dog beds and bits of hay obscured the design of the large green and yellow area rug covering most of the floor.

Chris handed a beer to Mary Jo and sat on the edge of her desk. She took a long drink and wiped her lips with the back of her hand. “There’s nothing like a cold beer after a good laugh.” After Mary Jo put the bottle to her mouth and nodded in agreement before taking a sip of beer, Chris added, “It should be enough to kill the mouse germs.”

Mary Jo snorted and beer almost came out her nose. “You’re trying to kill me,” she rasped between coughs. “Between you and that little varmint-killer, I’m going to an early grave.”

“Nah, couldn’t let that happen. Where would the fun be in that?”

“Yeah, you and Sadie wouldn’t have anybody to torture then.”

A short, companionable silence fell as they drank their beer. Mary Jo glanced over her bottle as she took another swallow, subtly appreciating Chris’s sculpted body. She wasn’t embarrassed about her own, but she wasn’t as defined as Chris.

“I’ve been thinking,” Chris said. “I’ve been working the Thoroughbreds in the round pen to exercise them, just doing some rudimentary things with them.” Mary Jo sat up straighter and focused her entire attention on Chris. “And I think the owners would be amenable to having us work with one of them. I’ll give them a call tonight and see what they think. Technically, it shouldn’t be a problem if I stress that it’ll be easier to acclimate and handle them.”

“Okay, why don’t you call me tonight after you’ve talked to them?”

“It may be late. All three of the owners live in California and that’s a time difference of three hours.”

“Afraid you’ll disturb my beauty sleep?” Mary Jo put on a seductive expression.

Chris cracked a smile. “No, not that you need it. It just might not be till one or two in the morning when I get a hold of them.”

“Well, how about I give you a holler between appointments tomorrow?” Mary Jo said. “I have your cell number now.” She hoped her mild embarrassment at Chris’s compliment didn’t show.

“That’ll work.” Beer bottle empty, Chris stood. “I’ve got a couple more horses to work. Nothing as elaborate as what Stetson does. Just exercise mainly.” She paused, after a moment and said quietly, “You’re welcome to stay if you want.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d love to watch.” You, Mary Jo added silently, chiding herself for thinking it. To be perfectly honest, she did want to watch Chris work the horses. Her quiet confidence had an eerily calming effect on the animals. She imagined Chris was an excellent rider as well, melding with the horse, moving as one.

The Labs raised their heads when she stood. They seemed to have found comfortable places to sleep while she and Chris chatted.

Before heading out the door, Chris told them, “You girls stay here.” Apparently happy to oblige, the dogs sighed heavily, groaned, and tucked their heads into their tails. Sadie lay curled up next to Cagney, still sound asleep.

Chris hesitated in the doorway and stepped back inside. She took hold of a gray sweatshirt that hung on a coatrack nailed to the back of the door. “It’s getting a little chilly.” She pulled the sweatshirt over her head. “Do you want a jacket?”

Mary Jo felt cool air wafting from the barn area. “You’re right, it is. A sweatshirt or jacket would be fine.”

“Take your pick.” Chris closed the door a bit to give Mary Jo a view of the garments hanging on the rack.

Mary Jo selected a thick red sweatshirt. As she pulled it over her head, the smell of hay, horse, and patchouli drifted to her nose. Grateful for the extra layer of warmth, she followed Chris out of the office.

As they walked side by side down the aisle, Chris told her, “I’m going to work the Thoroughbreds. Try to memorize their movements and habits. That’ll help when it’s you in the middle of the pen with whichever one we get to work with.”

The three mares must have heard Chris’s voice. They were pacing in their stalls and nickering, clearly anticipating their daily exercise.

Chris stopped next to the liver chestnut’s stall. She took Ramquette’s halter and a long lead chain from the hook and slid the mare’s door open just enough to slip in sideways. Talking too quietly for Mary Jo to decipher, Chris walked to the mare’s head. She slipped the halter on and attached the lead. Still talking low, she opened the door and raised her voice to say, “You might want to step back a little.”

Chris tightened the chain on the horse’s nose, and the mare followed, allowing Chris to lead her out of the stall. As soon as her hooves hit the aisle, the mare tensed, her head held high above Chris, her tail raised, her nostrils flared. She stepped with great animation, and her eyes grew wide, showing the white surrounding her dark irises. Her ears flicked nervously back and forth as she listened to Chris, and she pranced as she was led down the aisle toward the riding ring.

Mary Jo watched in stunned silence as Chris calmly walked next to the horse. It appeared the mare was struggling to keep to Chris’s pace, barely holding herself back from surging down the aisle.

Suddenly realizing it was one of these horses Chris suggested she work with, Mary Jo felt the blood drain from her face. Her stomach clenched in terror that bordered on nausea. She’s out of her fricking mind. No way. That horse is going to make such a fool out of me, and that’s the last thing I want with Chris looking on.

Completely oblivious to Mary Jo’s internal struggle, Chris never broke stride, never lost her composure. Mary Jo could see her lips moving but couldn’t hear a single word. The mare’s ear closest to Chris continued to flick back and forth toward her. Incredibly, Ramquette began to calm down. Her head lowered, and her muscles relaxed. The mare pushed excess air out of her overinflated lungs with a huge snort. She seemed almost normal by the time the three of them reached the round pen.

Chris turned to Mary Jo, grinning. “Ain’t she gorgeous?”

“Uh, yeah, gorgeous,” Mary Jo said hesitantly. “Are they all like that?” She dreaded the answer.

“Yeah, pretty much. But they won’t hurt you.”

“Uh-huh.” Mary Jo remained unconvinced.

Chris shook her head and turned to the horse. “You wouldn’t hurt a flea, would you, big girl?” She opened the gate and led the mare through.

Mary Jo couldn’t understand the apprehension she felt when around a high-spirited horse. Sure, she’d been trained to deal with them in college, but there had always been a more-experienced person around to assist her if the situation got out of control.

She hoped Chris could teach her to shed that anxiety and hesitation and replace it with a confidence of her own.

Chapter 12

The phone calls the previous evening went better than Chris could have hoped. All three owners were quite agreeable to having their horses worked. Of course, it swung the odds in her favor when she took the liberty of offering them free vet care should they take her up on her proposition.

Assuming that Mary Jo had chickened out or forgotten all about it since she hadn’t called, Chris went about her daily chores. She wasn’t exactly surprised. Any of those mares would intimidate the crap out of someone unfamiliar with racehorses. Still, as the day wore on, she felt disappointed. It would have been fun teaching Mary Jo the round pen technique. She would have gone about it the same way as Bill. He’d shown her the basics and then let her mold them to fit her own style.

She kept the barn doors closed for the day. The Indian summer temperatures had disappeared overnight as a cold front moved in, and a strong north wind blew sheets of heavy rain around. That morning, she’d even had to forego shorts and T-shirt for jeans, a long-sleeved flannel shirt, and a fleece pullover. She’d also switched from her thin cotton boxers to heavier ones for the extra warmth. However, liking the way the soft flannel felt against her breasts, she left the bra on her dresser.

She was just finishing the evening chores when the dogs took off toward the front of the barn. They whined and scratched at the door. Wondering what had set them off, she put the hay cart away and went to the office to lock up. She reached around to the inside handle, twisted the lock, and pulled the door closed. Satisfied, she headed down the aisle where the impatient dogs waited.

When she approached them, the three dogs turned their heads and wagged their tails, obviously wanting to go out.

“What’s got you guys all riled up?” she asked as she opened the door. Before she could say anything else, they took off and quickly disappeared. She heard the sound of paws scrambling across the dirt but couldn’t see where they went. Since the days had gotten so short, it was usually pitch dark out by the time she finished in the barn. Tonight was no exception. The heavy clouds that had kept the day cold and damp still hung around. They blocked any moonlight or starlight and made the evening darker than usual.

Chris pulled the door closed and started for the house. Only an intimate knowledge of the dirt drive allowed her to walk to the house without tripping over something. Apart from the wind, the only sounds were raindrops dripping from the trees. Every once in a while, a noisy mess of loose oak leaves scrambled past her, driven by a sudden gust of wind. Her steps were inaudible; the wet, soggy ground absorbed them completely.

The dogs would return as soon as they finished their investigation, so she continued up to the house, her daily activities running through her head.

It had been a productive day. A load of sawdust had arrived early, before the rain moved in. She and the driver unloaded the bagged shavings out of the tractor-trailer and into the barn in about two hours. Shortly thereafter, a delivery of rye straw for bedding in the foaling stalls arrived. She preferred the rye to oat or wheat straw as the horses didn’t like the taste of it. An hour later, she had body-clipped Stetson. Since she worked him vigorously through the winter months, it was easier to keep him shaved and blanketed and not have to wait for hours until he was cool and dry. Those three tasks, as well as her normal chores, had kept her busy since before sunup to after sundown.

There weren’t any lights on in the house as she hadn’t been back there since she left for the barn at five o’clock that morning. As she approached the porch, she heard the dogs snuffling and panting.

“You better not be harassing a skunk or you’ll be sleeping in the garage tonight,” she warned.

“Don’t worry. I took a shower before I came over.”

“What the hell are you doing sitting in the dark, let alone on my porch?” Chris was dumbfounded. How could she have missed Mary Jo’s truck in the drive? “Girls, come on, leave her alone. You must be freezing, sitting there. Come on into the house.” As she walked up the steps of the porch, she lightly touched Mary Jo’s shoulder as she passed. “Aren’t you cold? Are you crazy?”

“To answer your questions, not in any particular order, mind you, yes, I’m freezing my ass off here.” Mary Jo groaned as she stood up, her legs clearly stiff.

Chris chuckled.

“And while some people,” Mary Jo said, “including my employer, might think I’m off my rocker, I can assure you I’m perfectly sane. Most of the time anyway.”

Chris swung open the heavy storm door she used for the winter months and reached to her right. She flicked the switch for the mudroom light and waited for Mary Jo and the dogs to move past her before closing the door tight against the rain and cold.

Mary Jo stood beside her, bundled in a purple parka. Chris could see little of her as her arms were crossed in front, and her head was ducked as low as possible in the neck of the coat.

Still chuckling, Chris said, “You look a little like a purple version of the Michelin Man. Take your coat off. I’ll start a fire and get it warmed up in here.” She turned on lights as she went into adjoining rooms. She pulled her fleece off over her head, threw it on the couch, and set to work at the fireplace.

“I think I’ll leave this on until I get warm, if you don’t mind,” Mary Jo called from the mudroom.

“Suit yourself.” Chris crumpled newspaper into the fireplace. She added some short kindling and put a match to it. After coaxing the flame to catch, she turned and looked for Mary Jo. “Where are you?”

“Um, I’m still in the mudroom. My boots are muddy, and I need to take them off.”

“And the problem is?”

“I can’t seem to get my fingers to work yet.”

“Oh, for the love of God,” Chris said under her breath. “Hold on.” She paused a bit longer to throw a few more twigs onto the growing flames. She went into the mudroom and tried not to laugh as she approached Mary Jo. Grabbing the zipper, she undid the parka and squatted down at Mary Jo’s feet to unlace her boots.

“I didn’t necessarily need you to undress me,” Mary Jo kidded, a slight blush covering her cheeks.

“I don’t often have to take my guests’ clothes off.”

Mary Jo shivered noticeably. “God, I swear I have goose bumps on top of goose bumps.”

“Your jeans are soaking wet. Hold on, I’ll get a pair of sweats for you. Take the jeans off, and I’ll throw them in the dryer.” Chris rose to her feet and left Mary Jo to take off her clothes. As she climbed the stairs, she thought Mary Jo would probably be shocked to know the only person she’d ever actually undressed was herself.

*   *   *

Mary Jo heard Chris go through the living room and run up the stairs. She would wait to change her clothes in private, feeling a little self-conscious. From what she had seen, Chris didn’t have a modest bone in her body.

She pried her boots off by putting toe to heel and walked without hesitation through to the living room. As she stood by the little fire, Chris came down the stairs and appeared with a pair of sweatpants in her hands. Chris had changed clothes and now wore gray sweats and a black wool sweater. She looked so snuggly, Mary Jo wanted to embrace her and bask in her warmth.

Shrugging away an urge that would undoubtedly leave her even more embarrassed, Mary Jo took the offered sweats. At once, Chris squatted in front of the fireplace to tend the growing flames.

As delicious warmth emanated into the room, Mary Jo decided to forego changing in the bathroom. Her fingers were finally nimble enough to undo her own jeans. She couldn’t contain the blush that engulfed her face at the thought of having to ask Chris to undo her pants. She stepped away from the fire and away from Chris, released the button, pulled the zipper down, and let her jeans drop to the floor. Chris stole glances at her while she changed, and she smiled to herself.

“Have you eaten? I have some leftover chili in the fridge. You want some?” Chris shot a glance at Mary Jo as she stood. “They fit you good.” She nodded in apparent satisfaction, before rolling her neck from side to side.

“Sure, if you have enough. Do you mind if I stand next to the fire for a minute?” Mary Jo rubbed her hands in front of the flames. She picked up her discarded jeans and draped them over the wood carrier to dry instead of surrendering them to Chris.

“Nope.” Chris went into the kitchen, where Mary Jo heard her open the refrigerator. “When you’re ready, come in here and pick out a bottle of wine,” Chris said. “That’ll warm us up faster than beer.”

Chris was pulling spoons out of the drawer as Mary Jo walked in on stocking feet. Her host reached up into the cupboard above the counter and pulled out two bowls. She spooned an ample amount of chili into each one and put them in the microwave to heat.

Chris pointed at the wine refrigerator. “Grab a bottle from in there. The corkscrew is on top.”

“Do you have a preference?” Mary Jo opened the door and began pulling the bottles halfway out to see what kind they were.

“Nope, just pick one.”

Mary Jo decided on a red wine called Chocolate Lab from a local winery she often passed on her way to calls. “Is this okay?”

“Perfect. And that has a screw cap as a bonus.”

The microwave timer went off. Chris’s stomach grumbled loudly enough for both of them to hear.

“I’m starved,” Chris said. “I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.” She pulled both bowls out and handed one to Mary Jo. “There’s your spoon on the counter. Go on in by the fire, I’ll be there in a sec.”

“Thanks. God, this smells wonderful.” Mary Jo went into the living room and took the chair closest to the fire. She still felt slightly chilled from sitting on Chris’s porch.

The Labs had already found their beds and lay curled up. Sadie sat in her own bed, closer to the fire. Her nose wiggled back and forth as she scented the chili in Mary Jo’s bowl.

“Uh-uh, you’re not getting any of this, little Sadie,” Mary Jo said.

Chris came in with her own bowl tucked between her forearm and chest, the wine bottle in one hand, and two wineglasses in the other. Mary Jo put her dinner on the table and stood up to help. She took the wine bottle and set it on the table before sitting back down. Chris put the glasses next to the bottle and sat on the floor, her back to the table, her legs and feet pointing toward the fire. She gobbled half the chili, took a break to pour their wine, and returned to her position in front of the fire.

“You’ll be warmer if you sit down here,” Chris said. She finished her chili in a few more spoonfuls and set the bowl on the table as Mary Jo joined her on the floor.

Mary Jo relished the waves of warmth as the flames licked, then took hold of, the logs. The brightness sent shadows dancing on the walls and illuminated Chris’s face. Sadie had lain on her side but made no effort move away from the heat despite her panting. A comfortable silence settled in the room.

Chris sighed, noticeably trying to stifle a yawn. “Warm fire, full stomach, good wine, and good company. Who could ask for better?”

“Did you even taste that?” Mary Jo asked, barely halfway through her own bowl. Her eyes met Chris’s for a brief second, and then she glanced away.

Chris crossed her feet and took a sip of wine. “So? I was hungry. I got busy today and didn’t take time for lunch.”

“Frances would kill you if she knew. Is that why you didn’t answer your phone?”

“What? You called? When? I had my cell on all day.” Chris seemed befuddled. “Oops, I left the phone on the desk in my office when the bedding was delivered.” She shot Mary Jo a sheepish smile. “I wondered why you hadn’t called.”

Mary Jo chuckled quietly and admired the way Chris’s smile reached her eyes. “Did you talk to any of the owners?” She stared at the fire, not at Chris, and held her breath while hoping for a positive reply.

“Yeah, seems you get to take your pick. Of course, I did make the offer a little more attractive for them.”

Mary Jo glanced at Chris, unable to resist the mischievous note in her voice. “And that means?”

“I offered them free vet care while the horse was being trained.”

Mary Jo laughed outright. “That was mighty presumptuous, Martel.”

“Doctor Cavanaugh, I thought you wanted to work with one of those horses,” Chris said, feigning shock.

Without thinking, Mary Jo put her hand on Chris’s thigh. “I do, and I’m grateful. Though there is one thing you need to agree to if we’re going to make this work.”

Chris raised an inquiring eyebrow.

Mary Jo could feel the muscle beneath her hand tighten in response to her touch. “I want you to call me MJ. All my friends do.” She lifted her hand away from Chris and returned her attention to the bowl of chili.

“MJ it is.” Chris finished her glass of wine. She retrieved the bottle from the table, refilled her glass, and put the bottle on the floor between their outstretched legs.

After a few minutes, Chris said, “I guess the first thing you need to do is decide which horse you want.”

Mary Jo hadn’t had time to think about which mare she would prefer. The day had been crazy busy, and she’d had to deal with an owner who was too cheap to have his horse treated appropriately.

“What’s the matter?” Chris asked. “You have a weird look on your face.”

“I was just thinking about a client I had this afternoon. I spent two hours working on his horse. Turns out, he doesn’t care about it after all. I’ll probably end up euthanizing the poor animal before all is said and done.” Mary Jo took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “That idiot really jerked my chain.” She shook her head, still frustrated at the situation.

Chris put another log on the fire and returned to her spot next to Mary Jo. “Yeah, some people shouldn’t have horses if they can’t or won’t take care of them.”

“So anyway, if it was you, what horse would you pick?”

Chris replied without hesitation, “Ramquette.”

Mary Jo’s eyes widened. “You would?” She recalled the barely controlled horse prancing at the end of the lead the other day.

“Yup, she’s definitely the most intelligent and would enjoy the work the most.”

“Oh.” Mary Jo was too surprised to say another word.

“I think the two of you would be a good team.”

“Okay. Well, I guess.”

Chris noticed her hesitation. “Don’t you have any experience with horses?” She put her wineglass on the floor and clasped her hands in her lap.

Mary Jo nodded. “Yeah, but none as high-strung as those Thoroughbreds. The horses I used to ride near where we lived in Honeoye were a lot calmer. Plus the horses I dealt with at school were often too sick to be that rambunctious.”

“Wait a minute. I thought you said you were from Poughkeepsie.”

Mary Jo smiled. “If you had let me finish yesterday morning, you would have learned that I was born in Poughkeepsie. Well, actually, near Poughkeepsie, in a little town called Hudson Mills. It’s just easier to say Poughkeepsie.”

Chris stared at her, mouth open. Suddenly, she looked at the fire, saying softly as if to herself, “I’m sorry.”

Mary Jo ignored the apology as well as Chris’s obvious embarrassment. “We lived in Poughkeepsie with my grandparents while my dad got his law degree. He’d commute to New York City for the week and come home on the weekends. When Dad graduated, he was hired by a law firm in Rochester, so we moved to Honeoye because Mom didn’t want to live in the city.”

Chris remained silent. Her knuckles turned white as she clasped and unclasped her restless hands. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “I’m an idiot. I just assumed—”

“No need to apologize. It’s okay, really.” Mary Jo watched her with concern. She put her hand over Chris’s hands, effectively quieting them. “Chris, did something happen to you in Poughkeepsie?”

“I spent some time there. That’s where I met Bill.” She paused and then added, “I called about an ad he’d listed in a horse paper. He drove all the way to Poughkeepsie, we talked, and we drove here, to the farm. The rest is history, I guess.”

Mary Jo suspected there was more to Chris’s story. She wondered if Chris would ever be able to talk about it. “If you ever need an ear and want to talk, just let me know.” After giving Chris’s hands a light squeeze, she let go. “Okay?”

Chris nodded but kept her eyes averted. In a voice not much more than a whisper, she said, “Okay, thanks.”

Mary Jo grinned. “Change of subject. When can we start?”

Chris let out a breath, the tension in her shoulders visibly disappearing. “I guess anytime you want.”

“Should I just show up here when I can? I’d call, but…” Mary Jo let the sentence trail off.

Chris rewarded her with a laugh. “Yeah. Again, I’m sorry about that.”

Giggling, Mary Jo playfully bumped Chris’s shoulder with her own. “It’s okay. Tell you what, I’ll try calling just for the hell of it. If you’re busy, we’ll deal with it.”

“That sounds good. I promise I’ll try to keep better track of my phone.”

“You’d better,” Mary Jo teased. “I expect you to answer when I call.” She looked at her watch and got to her feet. “I’d better get going. Do you want help cleaning up?”

Chris stood. “No, it’s not that much. I’ll take care of it.” She glanced at the sweatpants Mary Jo wore. “Go ahead and wear those home,” she said, indicating the pants with her chin. “You can bring them back next time you’re here.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks, again, for the clothes and dinner.”

“I enjoyed the company.”

Mary Jo took a step toward Chris to hug her goodbye, but something told her she wouldn’t be quite receptive to such a gesture. She gathered her jeans and put her boots and coat on. “Goodnight then,” she said and went out the door.

The rain had faded to a drizzle. A light fog was beginning to creep along the ground, but Mary Jo scarcely noticed. She was too busy reliving the night’s events. A grin spread across her face.

“This might work out after all,” she murmured.

Chapter 13

The dogs, of course, heard Mary Jo’s truck pull in before Chris did. They had been sitting outside Ramquette’s stall, the Labs arguing over a stick while Sadie watched for the opportunity to steal it. They scrambled to their feet and trotted down the aisle. When Chris didn’t hear any barking, she knew Mary Jo had arrived.

Chris looked at the time on her cell phone. Three-thirty, right on time. Satisfied, she continued to fit the bridle on the mare.

Mary Jo soon appeared at the stall. The dogs had escorted her, Sadie in the lead, showing off the stick she now claimed as her own.

“What are you doing?” Mary Jo asked.

“I’m putting a bridle and saddle on her.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re going to ride her.” Chris lifted a saddle onto the horse’s back.

“I’m going to what? Are you out of your mind, Chris? I can’t ride Ramquette. She’s way more than I can handle.”

“MJ, you have spent the last two weeks getting to know Ramquette by spending time with her and grooming her. She knows you, your scent, and your movements. She trusts you. It’s time you learn to trust her.” Chris reached under, grabbed the girth, and tightened it to secure the saddle in place.

“Chris, please be reasonable. Why don’t you ride her and I’ll watch?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be right next to you.”

“Next to? We’re riding double?”

Chris snorted. “No, silly, I’m riding Ruby.” She came out of the stall and stopped in front of Mary Jo. “Ramquette is used to being ponied, so I’ll attach a lead to her bridle and ride next to you. Ruby has helped me with many skittish horses. She has a calming effect on them. You’ll see.”

“Oh yeah, that makes me feel so much better. You’ll see, all right. See me lying flat on my back after I fall off and break my freaking neck.”

Chris ignored Mary Jo’s sarcasm and wordlessly handed her a helmet that she’d hung on the door outside Ramquette’s stall. She watched Mary Jo put it on and fit the strap underneath her chin. “You stay here with your horse, and I’ll go get Ruby. Don’t pull her out of the stall just yet. I want to be here with Ruby when she comes out.” She hastened down the aisle.

“Okay,” Mary Jo said.

At the sound of the nervous quaver in Mary Jo’s voice, Chris turned around and went back. “MJ, look at me.” When she lifted her eyes, Chris rested a hand on each of her shoulders. “I will be right there with you. You need to relax. If she feels you all tense like this, she’s going to think she’s headed to a race.”

“Right. That makes me feel just peachy. See you in the next county, Martel,”

Massaging the muscles on each side of Mary Jo’s neck, Chris heard her continue in a murmur, “I wish I felt even a smidgen of your confidence.” At last, Mary Jo lifted her chin, took a deep breath, and relaxed. “Ok. I can do this. Just don’t you leave me, Martel, or I’ll strangle you with my stethoscope.”

Chris laughed and gave Mary Jo’s shoulders a final squeeze before letting go. “That’s the spirit. Don’t worry, you’ll do fine.” She left Mary Jo standing in the aisle and went to get Ruby.

“How in the hell do I get myself into these things?” Mary Jo muttered.

Chris walked into Ruby’s stall and led her out into the aisle. Ruby wore nothing but a bridle, as Chris planned to ride bareback.

“You’re nuts,” Mary Jo said. “And I just want you to know, that’s not the first time that thought has occurred to me.”

“All right, bring Ramquette out and just stand her here in the aisle. I’ll help you get up in the saddle, but don’t go anywhere until I get up on Ruby.”

“You’re riding bareback?”

“Yeah, Ruby’s belly is getting too big for a saddle girth. It would be too uncomfortable for her.”

Mary Jo opened Ramquette’s stall, entered, and could be heard talking quietly to the mare. When she came out, Chris brought Ruby up alongside so her presence would keep the Thoroughbred calm.

“I could hear you talking to her,” she said. “That’s good.”

“You wouldn’t think so if you heard how I was damning you to hell and back.”

Chris ignored the comment. “Ruby, stand here.” She dropped the reins on the floor. The horse stood stock-still. After attaching a lead line to Ramquette’s bit, Chris moved back toward the saddle. “You do know how to mount a horse, right?”

Mary Jo put her hands on her hips and said, “Of course I know how. But I’m going to need a boost. She’s bigger than anything I’ve ever climbed on.”

“Okay, face her and lift your left leg backward at the knee.”

Mary Jo grabbed the saddle and waited for a leg up. Chris wrapped her hands around Mary Jo’s calf, lifted, and pushed up as Mary Jo swung her right leg over. As Mary Jo settled, Chris put a hand on her thigh.

“Just relax, you’re fine.”

“Right.”

Ramquette turned her ears back to her rider but didn’t move an inch. Mary Jo shifted her butt in the saddle to find her seat.

Satisfied that Mary Jo was okay, Chris removed her hand and stepped to the other side of her own horse. In a swift move, she vaulted onto Ruby’s back. “Ready?” she asked. Her heart was pounding hard with excitement.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Mary Jo picked up her reins and let Chris initiate their movement. “You make getting on bareback look so simple.”

“It’s not that hard. I’ll teach you sometime.”

“Sure, if I survive this act of idiocy.”

The horses went side by side down the aisle to the riding ring. So far Ramquette hadn’t tried to walk any faster than Ruby. In fact, the mare seemed quite relaxed and content to just go along with the lead horse.

As they rode in silence, Chris directed Ruby to follow the perimeter of the ring a couple of times to allow Mary Jo to find her rhythm in the saddle.

Mary Jo saw the open door at the end of the ring and glared suspiciously. “Why is that door open?”

“We’re going to take a little ride is all,” Chris said mischievously.

“Martel, honest to God, you’re nuts.” Mary Jo rolled her eyes. “All right, I have to admit, I’m feeling more and more confident on top of her.”

“You’re okay with that? I want to make sure you’re comfortable. I don’t want you having a meltdown or anything.”

“Sure. What the hell. Let’s do it.” Mary Jo shook her head in apparent disbelief. “When I was younger, I was a fairly confident rider. Much to my parent’s horror, I tried cross-country jumping with my horse. But when I started going with Doc to calls, plus school, I didn’t have much time to pursue it. I haven’t ridden much since then, so I started questioning myself, wondering if I still had it in me.”

Chris grinned reassuringly. “It appears it’s all come back to you just fine.”

She led the way outside into the cold November sunshine. It had snowed during the night, little more than a dusting, which the sun had already partly melted. The air was completely still except for the sound of the horses’ hooves crunching through the icy crust. The horses exhaled thick white plumes, and soon frosty icicles covered their whiskers.

Both horses walked calmly, but suddenly, their heads rose in unison. Ruby seemed alert, and her muscles tensed. Chris glanced at a movement off to the side. A doe was standing at the woods’ edge, alternately watching them and nibbling on a tree branch. Sensing no danger, both Ruby and Ramquette relaxed and continued down the pond trail.

Chris gazed at Mary Jo. While riding, her body conformed beautifully to the Thoroughbred. She sat erect, her legs and hands positioned perfectly, and communicated subtle instructions to the horse.

“If you’re nervous at all, you can’t tell by looking at you,” Chris said. “I’m impressed. You look great on her. How do you feel?”

“Wow. I’m just lost in the joy of being on a horse again. I can feel her muscles respond with every step.” Mary Jo looked at Chris and beamed. “Oh, my God, I’d forgotten how exhilarating it is to ride.” She winked. “Okay, Martel, I forgive you.”

Chris and Mary Jo rode in silence until they reached the woods. “We’ll just go down and circle the pond once or twice and see how she does,” Chris said. The lead line from her hands to Ramquette’s bridle had been slack ever since they left the barn.

“She’s doing awesome. Out here, you’d never believe she was a track horse. You’ve done great work with her, Chris.”

Chris acknowledged the compliment with a nod. She lifted her nose and took a deep breath. While they passed beneath the pines, chickadees and nuthatches peeped as they fed in the branches above. A squirrel chattered, seemingly annoyed at their intrusion as it invaded a cache of acorns. The trees’ blue shadows extended out far past the woods, an indication of how low the sun sat in the sky.

“I love the silence of the winter woods,” Chris said. “I always get a sense of peace and contentment when I’m out here.” She reached down to stroke Ruby’s neck. “I’m glad you didn’t back out on me.”

“Me, too. And I’m glad you didn’t let me. Next time, though, give me some warning so I can dress warmer.”

“Are you cold?” Chris asked in concern. “We can turn around if you are.”

“Just my feet, a little. But I’m okay to go around the pond like you want. You just have to promise me something warm when we get back.”

“Okay, deal.”

Ramquette and Mary Jo still in tow, Chris and Ruby circled the pond twice and entered the woods. Snow untouched by the sun’s weak rays muffled the horses’ hoof beats. Daylight was beginning to fade as she turned Ruby toward the barn.

“Chris,” Mary Jo said softly.

“Hmm?”

“Unhook the lead.”

Chris looked at her, surprised. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Let’s try it.”

Chris leaned over and carefully unhooked the snap from Ramquette’s bit. The mare didn’t seem to notice, walking steadily next to Ruby, never once breaking stride. Chris shared a smile with Mary Jo. It was great to see her relaxing in the saddle. It made her that much more attractive.

It didn’t take long to put the horses away after they returned to the barn. Chris declined Mary Jo’s offer to help feed and insisted she go into the office and warm up. The dogs would keep her company. Chris had locked them in while they were out riding. While they normally accompanied her on trail rides, this time, as Ramquette was unfamiliar with dogs, she had wanted to make sure nothing spooked the mare.

With chores finished, Chris looked through the window in the office door. Mary Jo was asleep on the cot, bookended by the two Labs, with Sadie curled up next to her chest. She looked adorable.

Chris paused. Over the past several weeks, she’d started looking forward to Mary Jo’s arrivals at the farm. They had shared a host of horse stories, a few bottles of wine, and a couple of meals she’d thrown together.

Aside from the night she’d found Mary Jo sitting on her porch in the rain, their conversations had remained on neutral ground, never touching the subject of Chris’s past. For that, she was grateful.

Chris could finally admit to herself that she was quite fond of Mary Jo and valued the friendship they’d forged. When she recalled how she had first met Mary Jo, she chuckled to herself. It seemed so long ago. Was this the same woman Doc introduced her to a few months ago?

She had pushed aside her growing feelings for Mary Jo, cautioning herself each time after she realized where her thoughts had wandered. As she’d told Frances, there was probably no one who would put up with her, let alone her and the animals, for long. She didn’t want to risk her friendship with Mary Jo to find out.

The dogs noticed Chris peering through the window and wagged their tails.

Mary Jo drowsily opened her eyes. When Chris opened the door, she asked, “You spying on me?”

“Yup, I had to check out the woman my dogs were warming up.”

Mary Jo stretched and yawned, obviously trying not to disturb anyone. Chris thought she needn’t have worried. Her movements prompted nothing more than a couple of sleepy groans from the dogs.

“Well, I had to warm up somehow. You were out doing chores,” Mary Jo said.

“Yeah, when you train the dogs to do chores, I’ll trade places with them,” Chris joked lightheartedly, pretending her remark was innocent of innuendo as she walked past the cot to her desk. “I think I have some packets of hot cocoa in here if you want.” She opened drawers to search. “Or,” she said, avoiding Mary Jo’s gaze, “we could go up to the house and have some brandy. I didn’t have anything planned for dinner, but you’re welcome to stay. I’m sure we could rustle something up.” She finally dared look at Mary Jo. The electric current of attraction that existed a few minutes ago had thankfully faded.

“You know what? I think I’m just going to head home,” Mary Jo said. “I’m beat and have a couple of surgeries scheduled tomorrow. But I should be done by two or so if everything goes okay. Can I come back tomorrow afternoon?”

“Yeah, sure. That’d be fine. I’d like to start you in the round pen if you think you’re ready. I think it’s time.” Chris tried to hide her disappointment. She had enjoyed the ride with Mary Jo and wanted to sit in front of a fire and bask in the success of their outing.

“Oh, by the way,” Mary Jo said as she got to her feet, “I’m going to miss breakfast again tomorrow. Doc wants to get an early start on a horse with a tooth extraction. The horse came in this afternoon, so at least we won’t have to wait for him.”

Chris felt a new wave of disappointment at the news, but at least she would see Mary Jo tomorrow afternoon. “Okay, Frances won’t be happy, you know. She always makes extra when she’s expecting you. Now she’ll try and get me to eat it all.”

Mary Jo snorted. “Martel, the way you eat, that shouldn’t be a hardship.”

“Oh, shut the hell up and get out of here.” Chris closed the desk drawer, walked to the door, and opened it wide for Mary Jo to pass.

She called to the dogs, “Come on girls, MJ is deserting us, so we have to go scrounge up something to eat, all by ourselves.” Hearing the key word “eat,” all three dogs immediately jumped up and met Chris and Mary Jo at the door.

Before Chris was able to close the door, however, Mary Jo stopped. “Oops, hang on. I need to grab my gloves. They’re still on the cot.”

Chris stepped back and let her pass back into the office. “Just close the door behind you. The lock’s already engaged.” She moved down the aisle to the main entrance, thoughtlessly turning off the lights and plunging the space into complete darkness. When she reached for the door, she turned back to wait for Mary Jo. Without warning, she felt an impact from behind.

“Mmmph. Oh shit, I’m sorry! I couldn’t see you,” Mary Jo said.

Surprised to feel Mary Jo’s breath so close to her face, Chris reached out to grab her shoulders. Her forearms accidentally brushed against soft mounds, and she heard a soft groan.

She backed away, stepped into the night, and breathed deeply, struggling to control her racing heart. The cold air shocked the hot skin of her face and abated the blush that had crept up her face. When Mary Jo collided with her, those lips were so close to hers.

Mary Jo wordlessly came through the doorway and barely avoided running into Chris again.

The sky had cleared enough to allow moonlight to filter through the darkness. Chris was thankful they could only see forms in the dark, not each other’s faces.

“Okay, um, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Mary Jo said.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Chris replied, surprised by the huskiness in her voice.

Mary Jo walked to her truck, while Chris stood in place and watched her. As soon as the truck’s taillights disappeared down the drive, she marched to the house, showered, changed, and drove like a mad woman to Rochester, to the one place where she knew the fire between her legs could be extinguished.

Chapter 14

Sky spotted Chris immediately and met her at the door. As usual, she was very attentive. Because Chris’s needs were running in overdrive, she joined Sky in the dark part of the room more than once. Sky seemed high on coke because she sniffled a lot and was a bit wilder than usual, but the sexual release was very good. Fortunately, Sky didn’t press her anymore about taking drugs.

On her way home from the bar, needing something in her stomach besides beer, Chris stopped for coffee and doughnuts. As she was picking out a couple of donuts, she spotted a coffee cake and bought it on impulse.

Tired the next morning, but rid of the intense sexual arousal that had driven her to Rochester, Chris went to Frances’s house a little later than normal but in a good mood and happy to see her friend.

Breakfast was a combined effort. Frances had run out of scone mix, but she made her usual bacon and eggs. Chris brought the unopened coffee cake she had bought last night.

“I’m curious. What’s the occasion?” Frances lowered her coffee cup to the table.

Chris put her fork down, grabbed her coffee, and took a sip. “Excuse me? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“The coffee cake.”

“What about it?”

“Chris, for as long as you’ve been coming here on Thursday mornings, you’ve never once brought any food with you.”

“So what? I saw the coffee cake and thought you’d appreciate it,” Chris replied, slightly wounded.

“I do, but you didn’t have to. Lord knows you do enough around here for me. I should feed you three meals a day. There’s something different about you.”

“What?” Bewildered, Chris made a show of checking her clothes. “Did I spill something on myself?”

Frances snapped her fingers. “I know what it is!”

Chris looked at the ceiling in frustration. “Okay, you’d better tell me, because I have no idea what you’re getting at.”

Frances waited a few seconds before speaking. “You look content.”

“What?”

“Chris, you look more at ease than I’ve seen you in years.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Chris began eating again and tried to ignore Frances’s interrogation. Frances had no idea of what went on at Angie’s bar.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Mary Jo, haven’t you?”

Exasperated, Chris dropped her fork and looked Frances in the eye. “Yes, I’m spending time with her, but only because she asked me to teach her the round pen stuff. I can assure you, nothing else is going on.”

“But you like her, don’t you?”

“Yes, I like her. She’s a good friend. But that’s all she’s ever going to be.”

“Too bad. I think she’d be good for you.”

“Frances.” Chris hoped her confusion about Mary Jo wasn’t showing. She just wanted the conversation to end.

“I know, I know. I’ve overstepped my bounds. But I think it’s great that you’re spending time with her.” Frances held her hand up to stall Chris’s objection. “Let me finish. I worry about you spending so much time by yourself. Mary Jo is a wonderful woman, and I like her a lot. She’s good for you, as a friend or whatever you find down the road. Okay, I’m finished. I’ll get off my soapbox now.”

“She’s just a friend, Frances.”

“Okay, point taken. Now eat up.”

Chris seized the opportunity to change the subject. “Do you need me to do anything special today besides unload feed and bring wood into the shed?”

“Actually, yes. The horses spent all night inside because it was so cold. In the teens, the weatherman said. Do you think you could clean up the mess they made in the run-in shed?”

“Of course,” Chris said. “Most of mine stayed in last night, too. This morning when I fed them, everybody’s coat was poofed up to keep them warm. Everybody except Stetson, that is. I clipped him several weeks ago, and now he’s wearing his blanket.”

“When you go out, would you throw the boys some more hay? I can’t be bothered with the blankets anymore, so I better feed them extra to keep them warm.”

“Sure.” Chris drained her coffee cup. She pushed her chair back, stood, and picked up her plate as she went to the sink. Frances remained seated while Chris refilled both coffee cups and cleared the table. Once all the dishes were on the counter, she filled the sink with soap and hot water and started washing them.

“You know, you never used to clean up the kitchen before Mary Jo came into our lives,” Frances said.

Chris stopped what she was doing, hung her head, and sighed. “Frances, please stop it.”

“I just think she’s a good influence on you. You seem, I don’t know, more relaxed and less guarded.”

“Okay, you were right. I concede. I needed another friend, and she’s fun to be around.” Chris rinsed the last dish and set it in the dish rack to dry.

“Good. Because you have a whole lot of room in that big old heart of yours. It’d be a shame to let it go to waste.”

Chris glanced over her shoulder. “You take up a huge portion of that space, you know. I’m not sure if there’s room for anybody else.” She dried her hands on the towel and leaned against the sink. “I’m fine. Now I’ve work to do. The old lady that owns this place is going to get real snippy if her horse stalls don’t get cleaned.”

*   *   *

Mary Jo tried to hide her distraction from Doc when she led the pony from the stall.

“MJ? Are you with me?” he asked.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah.” With some effort, she focused her eyes on him.

“Did you inject the Ace Promazine?”

“Oh, shit. No, hold on, I’ll bring her back.” Mary Jo bit her lip, chastising herself for making the simple mistake of forgetting the initial sedative. She turned the pony around and led her back to the stall. “I have no idea where my mind is this morning.”

Liar, it’s back at the barn. She prepared the injection and pushed the needle into the pony’s jugular vein.

Last night, she’d driven home aroused and confused. Chris felt it, didn’t she? She couldn’t have possibly missed the electricity that passed between them when they collided. God, her lips were so close. All Mary Jo would’ve had to do was lean in, just an inch more.

She had breathed in Chris’s scent, a familiar smell now that she’d spent time with her. Mary Jo let her mind drift with the wonder of what it would be like to lay with Chris, their arms and legs tangled together.

“Are you all right? You seem a little out of it, and I need you here with me,” Doc said, jolting Mary Jo out of her daydream.

She shook her head to regain her wits. “I’m sorry. For some reason, I couldn’t sleep last night.” She raised her eyes to him and said, “While we wait for this girl to go down a little, I’m going to run back and chug a quick gallon of coffee.”

“Why don’t you limit it to a quart? Otherwise, your hands will be shaking, and you’ll have to pee every two minutes.”

Mary Jo gave a weak grin at his humor. She wondered whether Doc suspected the real reason she wasn’t quite with it today.

Her usual perkiness was absent this morning. In fact, her mind remained distant from the clinic and veterinary medicine. In an effort to regain her missing professionalism, she scanned the patient’s record while she gulped the coffee. She grimaced as the hot liquid scalded her throat and warmed her belly.

Five minutes later, she returned to the stable area. Doc had already led the pony, a buckskin Shetland, to the surgery room. While he administered the drug that would completely anesthetize the pony, Mary Jo gathered the instruments required to pull the tooth. She also picked up a breathing tube to connect to the anesthesia machine once the patient went down.

She had been told the little pony, named Dusty, had been injured six months ago while pastured with five full-size horses. When one of the mares came into heat, a kicking match ensued. Unfortunately, Dusty got caught in the middle and had suffered a fractured jaw and a cracked tooth. Before any dental work occurred, the jaw had to heal completely. Now that it had, the owners trailered Dusty to the clinic. If all went well this morning, the pony would go home late in the afternoon.

Several minutes later, Dusty lay on the table. Mary Jo glanced at Doc and was ready to begin. After removing the halter and inserting the breathing tube, she put a speculum into the pony’s mouth and opened it wide.

Doc wore his headlamp to put additional light on the surgical site. Mary Jo took charge of the anesthesia machine and monitored heart and respiration rates.

Doc chose a scalpel and forceps from the instrument tray. He gently pried the gum away from the doomed tooth. “How’s life treating you?” he asked Mary Jo.

“Fine. It seems like things are slowing down a bit more.”

“Uh-huh. We should have more free time starting next week.” Doc traded the scalpel for the tooth elevator.

“That sounds good.” Mary Jo put her stethoscope on Dusty’s chest and listened to the heart rate. “We’re stable here.”

“Good. How’s Chris doing?” Doc asked out of the blue.

Mary Jo looked at him in surprise. “Uh, fine, I guess. Why?”

“No reason, just wondering.”

“I’m going over there today,” Mary Jo said. “We went riding yesterday.”

Doc glanced up. “Wow, I’m impressed.” He turned his attention back to the patient.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oops, hold on. Just have to clamp this bleeder.” He grabbed tweezers, smaller forceps, and another piece of gauze. “It’s just that I’ve never known Chris to let anyone ride her horses.” Doc located the source of the blood, clamped it, and tied off the bleeder with suture thread and needle. “All right, I just have to sew this, and we should be ready to wake her up.” He flushed the pony’s mouth with a warm solution of sterile water and antibiotics.

Mary Jo increased the oxygen flow and decreased the amount of anesthesia entering the pony’s lungs. While checking vitals again, she thought about Doc’s comment. She was flattered but didn’t want to let her brain conjure up any fantasies about Chris’s intentions. She was sure riding Ramquette was just a step toward learning how to work in the round pen.

If Doc had anything further to say about Chris, or the fact that they’d been spending some time together, she was thankful he’d apparently forgotten.

Just as he tied off the last suture, Dusty stirred. Her little legs moved, and her eyes showed signs of impending wakefulness.

Mary Jo helped Doc clear the table of instruments. She disconnected the trachea tube from the machine, removed the speculum, and waited as Doc lowered the table to ground level. She placed a steadying hand on the pony’s shoulder and put the halter back on.

As Dusty became more alert and attempted to rise, Mary Jo pulled the tube from the pony’s throat and attached a lead rope to her halter. Dusty got to her feet with little effort, and Mary Jo led her back to the stall.

“You did good, munchkin.” She slipped off the halter and draped it on her shoulder. As she leaned against the wall to watch Dusty, she smiled as the pony circled around in the shavings, snorting as she went. Dusty worked her jaw a bit and began looking around, probably for a stray piece of hay she might have missed at breakfast.

“You’ll have to wait awhile to eat, Dusty.” The pony looked at Mary Jo, her dark liquid eyes appraising, then she pinned her ears back and turned away.

Mary Jo chuckled. “Little piss pot. You ponies are all alike.”

Shortly thereafter, Doc joined her at the stall. “That went well.” He crossed his arms and leaned a shoulder against the stall.

“I like them like that. Think she’s still on track to go home this afternoon?”

“I would think so. As long as there’s no bleeding, she should be fine. Mrs. Peterson will be happy to hear her little girl came through okay.”

Mary Jo left the moody little pony and slid the stall door closed behind her. “I’ll write up her care and discharge instructions.”

Doc gave her an appreciative smile. “Great, thanks. Donna will be here when the Petersons show up. Which reminds me, I need to call them.” He turned to go, stopped, and glanced back at her. “By the way, I think it’s great that you and Chris are getting along so well.” Without another word, he walked into the office area, leaving Mary Jo standing with her mouth agape.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she asked the closed door. Perplexed, she returned to the surgery room to start tidying up. While she worked, she wondered if Doc was insinuating that Chris and she were seeing each other romantically.

“Imagine that. Yes, imagine that indeed,” she said under her breath.

When she finished cleaning up the surgical mess, she walked into the office. Doc was nowhere in sight. Donna sat at her desk preparing invoices, a radio set to a low volume sitting next to her stack of bills.

Mary Jo smiled to herself when she heard Donna humming. She pulled up a chair next to her and began humming along with her. From the desk organizer, she took a sheet of stationary, and opting for a more personal touch instead of the computer, began to write up the after-care instructions for the pony.

When she finished, she got up, went to the supply cabinet, and took out a jar of antibiotics and a bottle of oral antiseptic. Mrs. Peterson would have to rinse the pony’s mouth out after each feeding. Some horses objected, but since the mouthwash was apple flavored, Mary Jo suspected this pony would rather enjoy it. Little piss pot, she thought again, still amused by the miniature fireball’s attitude. She had no doubt Dusty would bounce back in a heartbeat.

She put the instructions and supplies into a bag, marked it Peterson, and placed the bag on top of the patient’s file. “Okay, Dusty’s all set to go,” she said.

“Good.” Donna didn’t look up from her work. “Mrs. Peterson was so worried about Dusty. I had hell’s own time getting her to leave last night when they brought the pony in.”

“Where’d Doc go?” Mary Jo didn’t remember any appointments on the schedule when she came in.

“He mumbled something about getting the tires rotated on his truck. He said he’d be back before long.”

Mary Jo looked at her watch. One thirty. “Do you want me to stay here until he gets back, in case Mrs. Peterson shows up?”

”No need to. Get out and enjoy the sun.”

“Thanks. You can call my cell phone in case you need me. And I’ll mail these for you.” Mary Jo picked up the sealed stack of invoices and left.

The day had warmed to a balmy forty degrees with the sun shining through broken clouds. There was a slight breeze, but not enough to produce much of a wind chill. Snow remained only on those areas that faced north and were protected by deep shadows where the sun didn’t reach.

Nevertheless, she stopped briefly at her apartment to change out of her work clothes into something warmer. Best to be prepared for any change in the weather. It hadn’t taken long to don silk thermals under her jeans and a red turtleneck. As an afterthought, she’d completed her outfit with a blue fleece vest. Now, off to meet Chris.

Even before she opened the door to her truck, Mary Jo felt butterflies in the pit of her stomach, a familiar sensation every time she went to see Chris. Despite reasoning with herself, she couldn’t stop her heart from pounding whenever she caught Chris watching her.

Today she’d begin working in the round pen. She hoped she wouldn’t be a disappointment to herself or Chris.

Chapter 15

The morning went by relatively quickly despite Chris’s growing anticipation of Mary Jo’s arrival. She occupied herself with sweeping the aisles, grooming the arena surface with the tractor, and scrubbing the automatic waterers in each stall. It was busy work, but she’d rather be doing something productive than sitting around fidgeting.

After checking the time on her cell phone for the tenth time that minute, she decided to take the dogs for a walk. The pond had just recently frozen over. Until the ice thickened enough to support the dogs’ weight, or the pond warmed up enough for swimming in the spring, she would avoid hiking that trail. Instead, she chose a path that led to a stand of white and yellow birches growing near the peak of the mountain on her property. She often took the dogs there.

She walked at a brisk pace and enjoyed the musky smell of the leaf-covered earth. By the time she reached the top, she was breathing hard and forced to shed a few layers of clothing. She caught her breath and surveyed the surrounding scenery. Although the leaves had long since fallen, the sharp contrast of the white and green bark of the trees against the blue sky was striking.

While the Labs investigated a deer trail and Sadie hunted rabbits, Chris sat down on an uprooted tree with her back resting against the root bundle and let her mind wander. A hawk flew high overhead, and she chastised herself for forgetting her binoculars. During the hawk migration in the early fall, her binoculars were constantly strung from her neck in case she might be lucky enough to catch sight of a Golden Eagle or Peregrine Falcon. Large kettles of Broadwing hawks, Harriers, and Redtails commonly flew over as well, as they migrated to warmer hunting grounds.

She remembered one clear night when, guided by a full moon, she’d hiked up here to watch a meteor shower. She had brought a wool blanket for herself and the dogs to lie on. While searching the sky for shooting stars, she heard what sounded like puppies overhead. The soft cooing turned out to be a huge flock of swans directly above her flying south.

The dog’s excited yips brought her mind back to the present. She watched them zigzag through the leaning goldenrod, with their noses to the ground. After putting her fleece and down vest back on, she pulled up her collar against the constant cold wind.

A covey of grouse flew up, no doubt flushed by the dogs. As she watched, the grouse disappeared on fast-moving wings into a thicker part of the woods. Other than the occasional raucous caw of a crow, nothing else stirred.

Chris closed her eyes, tilted her head up, and let the sun warm her face. This was her idea of heaven, to feel as one with her surroundings. Even as a child, she took every opportunity to escape to the outdoors. Sometimes she and her dog didn’t return to the house until dusk, but she never worried since no one ever missed her.

She opened her eyes and took a last look around. It was time to head back to the farm. The mare’s tails that had floated in since she’d arrived didn’t escape her notice. If the temperatures stayed in the thirties, it would rain. Up here, however, the ground would be snow covered by this time tomorrow.

As soon as Chris started down the trail, the Labs joined her. She was halfway down the mountain when a little brown and white streak passed her. Sadie never hesitated as she ran toward the barn at breakneck speed, apparently eager to feast on the rabbit she’d caught.

“You’re a sick little dog, Sadie,” Chris called. She couldn’t hold it against her, though. Jack Russell Terriers were bred to hunt. She considered herself lucky that Sadie never went into holes to chase her quarry, since she’d heard numerous stories of Jacks getting stuck underground and perishing before their owners could find and dig them out. Thinking about losing a dog in those circumstances made her shudder.

She and the other two dogs were fifteen minutes from the barn when Cedar and Casey stopped to listen. The cocked their heads and looked at Chris with their tails wagging.

“Go ahead, then, I know you want to,” she told them. The Labs spun around and were gone in an instant as she muttered, “Traitors.”

Mary Jo had recently taken to bringing dog treats with her. So of course, being the food fiends they were, the dogs would be stringing ropes of drool from their jowls by the time they found her.

“It serves her right,” Chris said to herself. “She’s going to have frozen drool all over her by the time they’re done with her.” But it secretly pleased her that the girls liked Mary Jo so much.

As she came out of the thick canopy of pines, Chris stopped short when she came face-to-face with Mary Jo. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” she said.

Mary Jo stared at Chris who was sure her cheeks were red from the cold and her hair tousled by the wind. “When the dogs came busting out of the woods, I didn’t figure you’d be so long,” she said. “I got tired of waiting and followed your tracks. Wanted to make sure you weren’t lost or something.”

“Thought you’d try and rescue a damsel in distress, did you?”

“Well, yeah. Seen any up there?” Mary Jo made a show of peering past her into the woods.

Chris looped her arm through Mary Jo’s. “Come on, we have work to do. The damsels will have to wait.”

Mary Jo let Chris turn her around, and they walked in silence for a few moments, Chris enjoying her company. Suddenly conscious of Mary Jo’s closeness when their hips brushed together, Chris let go, and plunged her hands deep in her vest pockets.

“By the way, dinner’s on me tonight,” Mary Jo said.

Chris glanced over. “Is that right?”

“Yup, I figured since I’ve eaten here so many times, it was my turn to cook. So I stopped and bought a couple of steaks on my way here.”

“That sounds wonderful, thanks.” Chris smiled, genuinely pleased.

“Oh, I can be very nice, Martel.”

Chris threw her head back, laughing. “I bet you can, Cav.” She’d caught the teasing note in Mary Jo’s voice.

“Cav?”

“Yeah, short for Cavanaugh, dummy.” Seeing Mary Jo’s confusion, Chris explained, “I know you said all your friends call you MJ, but I don’t want to call you what all your other friends do. Besides, I think ‘Cav’ fits you better. It’s easier to say anyway. Do you mind?” Chris didn’t wait for an answer. She glanced away from Mary Jo, purposely looking in the direction of the barn as they continued walking.

Mary Jo didn’t answer right away, but Chris caught her smile when she glanced over. “No. I don’t mind at all,” she said.

When they got to the front of the barn, Chris paused. “Why don’t you go ahead and groom Ramquette? I’ve got to change out of these sweaty clothes. Otherwise I’ll get cold standing around.” She started toward the house and called back over her shoulder, “Take the girls in with you.”

“All right, I’ll see you in a bit,” Mary Jo said to Chris’s back as she watched her jog to the house. She started into the barn and looked toward the tack room just in time to see a flash of white disappear inside.

“I was wondering where you’d gotten to, little dog,” she said, but when she walked through the doorway, there was no sign of Sadie. “You’re going to have to play hide-and-seek by yourself. I have a horse to train.”

Deciding she’d probably get warm grooming Ramquette and working in the ring, Mary Jo took off her parka and threw it on top of one of the saddles.

When Chris returned to the barn, Mary Jo was almost finished grooming Ramquette. Chris stood outside the stall door, watching. “About ready?”

“Yup, just have to clean out her feet.” Mary Jo gazed appreciatively at her work.

The frequent grooming made Ramquette’s liver coat shine and highlighted the dapples on the mare’s haunches. Mary Jo pulled a hoof pick out of her pocket and lifted each of the horse’s hooves to scrape out bedding, manure, and dirt. As she straightened up, she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and looked at Chris, who hadn’t taken her eyes off her since she’d arrived.

“Ready,” Mary Jo said.

Chris reached through the bars of the stall and handed her a halter and lead rope. Uttering her thanks, she put the halter on Ramquette’s head and clipped the lead to the bottom ring of the halter. “Okay, let’s go.”

Chris slid the door open for her and stood back as Mary Jo led the mare into the aisle. “You’re going to need this.” She picked up a long whip from the floor.

Mary Jo followed Chris down the aisle and into the ring. Small particles of dust floated in the sunlit air, probably from bird activity in the rafters. The quiet plodding of hooves and boots were the only sounds.

The round pen was at the other end. By the time she reached it, Ramquette was already anticipating the impending exercise. She began to prance next to Mary Jo as soon as her hooves hit the sand.

“Easy there, girl.” Mary Jo hoped to calm the mare down, but to little avail. Her nerves began dancing in time with the horse’s hooves.

Chris opened the gate and waited until Mary Jo and Ramquette passed through before closing and securing it. “Go to the middle of the pen and wait for me,” she said. Having locked them in, she joined her students in the center. “Okay, take the halter and lead off and let her go.”

Mary Jo did as instructed and watched as the horse calmly moved away from her to the outside of the ring, then stopped and looked at them.

Chris took the head gear from her and walked back to the gate where she hung the equipment on the other side. When she returned to Mary Jo, she handed her the whip. “Ready? I hope you’re as excited as I am. I love to watch horses figure out these lessons.”

Mary Jo shifted her gaze from the horse to Chris. “I guess. I’m just not sure what to expect.” Preoccupied with getting the horse from the stall and into the pen without incident, she hadn’t noticed Chris’s change of clothing until now. “Is that your horse-training getup?” she teased.

“Actually, yes. I don’t like clothing that hangs loose. I want my movements, and therefore my signals to the horse, to be as clear and precise as possible.” In addition to her flannel-lined jeans, Chris wore a black mock turtleneck and a tight turquoise wool sweater with an Aztec design across the front.

As Chris walked toward her, Mary Jo was fascinated by the soft swell of breasts glimpsed beneath the sweater. She made herself look into Chris’s face. Chris had a half smile as she moved to Mary Jo’s side. “Okay, Martel, I’m all yours,” she said. How Mary Jo wished that statement were true!

“Let’s get started then,” Chris said. “First thing you need to understand is personal space. Ramquette is already in hers, over by the wall. I like to give the horse a personal space of about five feet out from the wall. Everything else is your space. Questions so far?”

“No.” Mary Jo shook her head.

“Every movement you make should convey something to the horse. Sort of like asking her a question in the form of pressure, using body language. You maintain the pressure, asking over and over, moving closer into her space, until she answers correctly. She may try different things to guess at what you want, but the pressure, your asking, doesn’t get released until she does what you want. Timing is extremely important. As soon as she does what you want, immediately reward her by stepping back into your space, thereby relieving the pressure. In a sense, you ask and ask until she gets it right. Then you go on to a different question.”

“Won’t she get tired from doing all that running around?”

“No, her brain will get tired before her body does. You’ll see.”

“So what’s with the whip? I don’t have to hit her, do I?”

“God, no, the whip is merely an extension of your arm, kind of like a pointer for a chalkboard. You’ll never touch her with the whip, unless of course she charges you.”

Mary Jo gulped. “Charges me?” The embarrassing memory of being charged and knocked down by Chris’s horse earlier in the summer flicked a raw nerve. Horses had knocked her down during college, but someone had always been close by to assist. She tensed, and an involuntary spurt of adrenaline kicked in.

“Don’t worry. If you do it right, she won’t get frustrated enough to charge you,” Chris said, showing no emotion. She put her hands firmly on Mary Jo’s shoulders. “Cav, look at me. I’ll be right here. You need to relax. This won’t work unless you’re calm. Your movements won’t be as fluid and exact as they need to be.”

Mary Jo forced herself to regain control as she concentrated on Chris’s touch. She watched the pulse in Chris’s throat above the turtleneck. It was strong and even, and Chris’s face was relaxed as she stared at her.

“You can do this. I know what you’re thinking, and this is the best way to get over what happened this summer,” Chris said, giving her a little shake, and letting go. “Okay, breathe deeply, that’ll help.” Her attention returned to the horse. Ramquette stood patiently looking at them, and her ears twitched back and forth. “Now, I want you to walk a few steps toward Ramquette, raise the whip, and cluck to her. If she moves off, lower the whip and back up to the center again. Always face her full on, focusing your eyes on her hip. That’ll motivate her to keep moving.”

Mary Jo did as instructed, feeling awkward but delighted when the horse began to walk close to the wall. She returned to the center of the ring.

“Good,” Chris said. “I’ll be right behind you so I won’t be in your way. I want you to walk to her again and get her into a trot. The first part of this exercise isn’t new to Ramquette. When she first came here, running was all she knew how to do. I had to teach her to slow down. It’s up to you to teach her how to trot and canter instead of full out gallop.”

Mary Jo walked toward the horse and tried to do what Chris had told her, but Ramquette bunched her hindquarters and took off in a gallop, bucking and snorting in alternate strides.

Looking helplessly at Chris, Mary Jo said, “Shit! I didn’t want her to do that, did I? What should I do?”

“Lower the whip, and just stand here quietly,” Chris said in a low voice.

Chris walked to one side of the wall and barely avoided Ramquette as the mare charged by. When Ramquette began a second time around the ring, she approached the mare with her arms spread wide. Ramquette slowed to an easy canter, turned, and trotted to Chris. The mare’s eyes were wide with white showing all around her irises.

Ramquette stopped in front of Chris and stood trembling and blowing. Her nostrils flared wide and red. She let Chris rub her face, apparently listening to Chris’s soft words. Ramquette lowered her head, snorted, and relaxed. A soft expression returned to her eyes.

Mary Jo stood rooted in place like a statue. Chris gave her a reassuring smile and shrugged. “Okay, no big deal. Let’s try something else.” She gave the horse a pat on the shoulder and rejoined Mary Jo.

“I’m sorry.” Mary Jo felt completely deflated and devoid of enthusiasm.

“Don’t worry about it,” Chris said. “She needed a good blow out anyway. Now she’ll be able to think without all that energy buzzing around in her head.”

Mary Jo was aware of Chris walking behind her. She felt Chris’s nearness and her breath on the back of her neck.

Without warning, Chris’s left arm came around to the front of her waist and pulled her close. Mary Jo felt breasts pressing against her back and strong thighs against the backs of her own legs as Chris’s hips pressed to her rear. She gasped and very nearly let out a moan as Chris’s body molded to hers.

“I’m going to shadow you, so you need to relax. My movement must be your movement,” Chris said quietly into Mary Jo’s ear. She put her right hand on Mary Jo’s elbow and followed Mary Jo’s arm down to her wrist. “You hold the whip, and I’ll move your arm. Try to feel me, anticipate how I’m going to move and in what direction. I want you to see what I see. Watch the horse’s ears, eyes, and what her body is telling you. Got it?”

Mary Jo could only nod, having lost her voice completely when Chris slid an arm around her waist. She was so aroused, she wasn’t sure how much longer her legs would hold her up.

“It’s almost like dancing close in a slow dance. You anticipate your partner’s movements.” Chris pressed her right leg harder against Mary Jo’s, urging her to take a step. In response, Mary Jo walked slowly toward the horse. Chris raised the whip and clucked. Ramquette moved forward, turned an inside ear to the two women, and watched them as they backed away.

Mary Jo forced herself to focus and responded to Chris’s cues in more ways than one. As they moved together, she made herself concentrate completely on the horse. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, and her breath quickened as her body conspired against her. She fought her rising desire as she and Chris continued to move as one. How easy it would be for her to lean into Chris’s arms, she thought, and give in to the passion that threatened to consume her.

After an agonizing five minutes, Chris let her go, a good thing since Mary Jo couldn’t concentrate any longer. She and Chris had worked together and urged Ramquette into a trot and then a halt, without any further incident. The horse was done, and so was Mary Jo.

Chris cleared her throat. “That’s enough for today.”

Mary Jo gazed at Chris, happy with their progress but struck once more by how much she wanted her.

Chris turned her head to the side, but Mary Jo caught a glimpse of the desire on her face as she moved away.

Her legs still weak, her pulse pounding hard, Mary Jo almost staggered to Ramquette while Chris went to open the gate.

As Chris walked toward the main barn with Mary Jo following, she said over her shoulder, “Go ahead and put her away. I’m going up to the house to put another log on the fire. I’ll be back in a few to start chores.”

“Okay.” Mary Jo was grateful that Chris left her alone a few minutes. She needed time to gather her wits after what had just happened between them. And something did happen. No doubt about it. She hadn’t mistaken the lust in Chris’s eyes when she’d let go of her waist.

Mary Jo was almost finished cooling out Ramquette when Chris came back. She avoided eye contact, and Mary Jo sensed that she still needed some time. She said idly, “How about I go up and start dinner while you feed?”

“Good idea. I’ll be up shortly. Give me a holler if there’s anything you can’t find.”

Mary Jo walked into the tack room to retrieve her coat. Somehow it had slid off the saddle and onto the floor. She bent down to pick it up and noticed a short, thick stick laying on it. Curious, she picked it up. Not a stick, but a rabbit’s foot. She had no doubt a certain Jack Russell Terrier was involved.

“All right, where are you, you little brat?” she asked aloud.

Sadie looked a little guilty as she emerged from beneath the saddle racks.

“You little snot… is this lovely gift for me?”

The excited terrier wagged her stumpy tail and jumped up on her hind legs.

“Well, a rabbit’s foot is supposed to mean good luck. God knows I need it. Thank you.” Mary Jo reached down to stroke Sadie’s head. “Why don’t you hold on to this for me, okay?” She offered the rabbit’s foot to Sadie, who didn’t hesitate to take it into her mouth. Sadie returned to her hiding place, her tail still wiggling from side to side.

Mary Jo pulled her coat close around her as she opened the door. The cold dampness of the evening had settled in, and so had the clouds. She was looking forward to the warmth of Chris’s house. She trotted to her truck to retrieve the steaks, thinking the crackling fire would be a welcome sight after spending hours in the barn. Although she remained a bit nervous about the atmosphere between herself and Chris after that performance in the round pen.

She ran up the porch steps and opened the door. The moment she walked inside the house, a wave of warmth enveloped her. She set the steaks on the table next to the door, hung her coat on the coat tree, and removed her boots. In stocking feet, she went first to warm her hands at the fire.

As she rubbed her hands together in front of the flames, she glanced up and saw a beer bottle on the mantle. “Wow. Chris was that uncomfortable?” She began to wonder about her friend. If Chris felt the way she’d looked, why didn’t she act? “I certainly wouldn’t turn her away,” Mary Jo said to herself. She pushed her feelings of doubt and confusion to the side and concentrated on making dinner.

Chris’s kitchen setup seemed straightforward. Mary Jo soon located the broiler pan and heated the oven. After some searching through the cupboards, she found the steak seasoning and sprinkled some on both steaks. She paused in her preparations for a moment and decided a glass of wine would taste good. She helped herself, chuckling as she repeated a saying she’d heard, “I cook with wine, and sometimes I even put it in the food.”

For side dishes, she found a boxed rice dish that could be table ready in a short time. She filled a pot with water, and by the time it came to a boil, she heard the dogs and Chris at the door. Once the steaks were under the broiler, she began to set the table.

Out of the corner of her eye, Mary Jo saw Chris shed her boots, feed the dogs, and disappear. A moment later, she walked into the kitchen with an empty beer bottle in her hand.

“Starting to smell good in here, Cav,” Chris said. She put the bottle on the counter and, in the same motion, opened the door to the wine refrigerator. After pouring herself a full glass of wine, she leaned against the counter with an amused expression as she watched Mary Jo. “You like to cook, huh?”

“Absolutely. When I was in high school, Mom and Dad always got home from work late. I’d get home way before them, so I used to surprise them with dinner on the table. I learned to cook through trial and error.” Mary Jo laughed as she recalled those early times. “Sometimes when it was more error, Dad would get up and call for a pizza delivery.” She smiled at Chris. “You and Frances might get to be my guinea pigs when I’m back into the swing of things.”

“As long as we have the local pizza place’s number handy, I don’t care.”

Mary Jo picked up a kitchen towel and playfully swatted Chris with it. “Shit, Martel, you eat so fast you’d never know if you liked it or not until it was already down your throat.”

“Uh-huh, we’ll see.” Chris emptied her glass in a few long swallows and reached for the bottle.

Mary Jo checked the steaks and flipped the meat over. “How do you like yours?”

“Medium is good for me.”

“Me, too. I think we’re just about done.” Mary Jo stirred the rice a final time, turned off the stove, and handed a hot pad to Chris. “Will you take the rice into the dining room? I’ll be just a sec with the steaks.”

Wineglass in one hand and the rice in the other, Chris went in and sat down at the table. Mary Jo soon joined her with perfectly done steaks. And not a minute too soon, she thought. She was famished.

She and Chris ate the meal in a companionable silence broken only by the occasional grunt of satisfaction.

Later, with the table cleared and the dishes put in the sink, Chris grabbed the wine bottle and, with another full glass in hand, went to sit in front of the fire. Mary Jo followed close behind and chose a seat next to hers. The dogs had already settled into their beds and were sound asleep. They’d had quite a workout on their hike up the mountain and back.

The fire crackled and threw glowing red sparks that disappeared up the chimney. Mary Jo detected a hint of cherry smoke as the logs snapped and burned. “Chris?”

“Hmm?”

“How’d you get to be so good with animals?”

“Bill taught me a lot,” Chris answered, too quickly.

Mary Jo suspected there was more to the story than that. “No, that’s not what I mean.” She watched Chris take a long swallow of wine. “Anybody can learn how to work with animals, but you…” She paused, searching for the right words. “It’s like you’re part of them and they’re part of you. The dogs obviously look to you as their pack leader, and they seem to know instantly what you’re thinking. The horses are always calmer when you’re near them. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Chris didn’t respond. She just stared into the fire, apparently paying no attention, and Mary Jo wondered whether she would answer.

At last, Chris sighed deeply and gulped down the remainder of her wine. She poured herself another glass—her fourth, Mary Jo noted—and took a deep breath. “I guess it was going to come out eventually.”

“What? That you were a runaway?” Mary Jo asked softly.

When Chris turned toward her, Mary Jo was shocked at the transformation in her face. Haunted eyes stared back at her. Chris’s shoulders sagged.

“Chris, if you don’t feel like talking, I understand.”

Chris gazed back into the fire. “I guess Doc would have told you what little he knew. There’s a lot more to the story.”

Chris took another healthy swallow of wine and briefly closed her eyes. The Chris Martel Mary Jo thought she knew had disappeared. In her place sat a woman whose memories, it seemed, had returned to claim her. Her normally soft, confident voice turned raspy, filled with pain.

“I was born in Red Oaks Mills, a little town south of Poughkeepsie,” Chris said. “I was the oldest and had two sisters. I think my mother hated me right from the beginning. From what my Gram told me, I wasn’t too fond of her either. Maybe we just didn’t do the mother/baby bonding thing. I honestly don’t know. I don’t remember much about my early years, but Gram told me she watched me a lot. By the time my sisters were born, my mother was completely preoccupied with them, and Dad was heavy into the bottle.”

“You must have been so lonely.”

Chris shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess. Life was normal for me, so I didn’t know what loneliness was. One day I found a stray dog in the woods behind the house and brought her home. The only way I could keep her was if she stayed in the barn with my sisters’ two show horses.”

“So you had horses growing up.”

“No, I didn’t get a horse of my own until a few years later when I’d saved up enough money.” Chris smiled wanly. “I had a little help from my Gram.”

“That was nice of her.”

“When my parents found out she’d helped me, Gram caught all kinds of hell, but that never stopped her from doing what she wanted. She stood up to my mother more than once.” Chris paused for a moment and took another swallow of wine.

Liquid courage, Mary Jo thought.

“I was thirteen when the beatings started. If my sisters got into trouble or something wasn’t right in my parents’ world, they’d take it out on me. I stopped talking and spent as much time as possible outside with my dog and horse. I guess that’s when I learned the most about myself. The guardedness and suspicion I had for my family dimmed when I was with my animals. Their personalities seemed to change after a while, too. When I realized it, I started wondering how and why it happened. It took me a while to figure it out. They read me like a book and trusted me. Eventually it was my turn to learn how to read them. They taught me a lot.”

“Your parents actually beat you?” Mary Jo found the idea of Chris as an abuse victim difficult to accept.

“Yeah. I remember one day my mother decided to cut my hair. I wanted to grow it long so I could braid it like an Indian.” Chris’s mouth turned downward. “She came at me with the scissors, and when I tried to push her away, Dad threw me up against the wall. He pulled my arm so far behind my back that he dislocated my shoulder. She cut my hair short before they took me to the hospital. They yelled at me the entire way and told me it was my own fault.”

Mary Jo couldn’t hide her shock. “I can’t believe anybody would treat their own child like that.” Tears welled in her eyes. She felt chilled to the bone despite the warm fire. “Your sisters watched all of this without saying anything?”

“What could they say? They knew they had it good and did their damnedest to stay on her good side.”

“Were you close to your sisters?” Mary Jo laid her hand on Chris’s thigh for reassurance. Whose, she wasn’t sure.

“I can’t really say. We played together sometimes. But to be honest, I’m not sure what I felt for them.” Chris refilled her glass and offered the remainder of the bottle to Mary Jo, who nodded. After she’d filled both glasses and set the empty bottle on the floor, she stood up to throw another log on the embers. She faced Mary Jo. “One day they sat me down at the kitchen table and preached to me about how God would punish me because I was a lesbian. I’m not sure how they thought they figured it out. Hell, up until then I didn’t even know it myself.”

“Ah, the tomboy syndrome.”

“Could be, I guess.” Chris laughed bitterly. “Later on, I looked it up because I didn’t even know what it meant. I’m surprised they used the word ‘lesbian’ instead of ‘gay.’ But they were convinced.” She shook her head. “They said if I didn’t go talk to our priest, God would make me pay. I spent hours at that table, me denying it and them screaming that I was a liar and to admit it. I finally gave up and said I would go. Of course I didn’t. I went out and hid in the woods with my dog and horse, like my parents wouldn’t figure out I hadn’t gone. I got beat something terrible when I got home.”

“Jesus, I don’t know how you dealt with them.”

Chris braced herself against the mantel with her hands clenched into fists. Even in the dim light, Mary Jo could see her knuckles turning white as she battled her demons.

“There was so much yelling going on in that house all the time,” Chris said. “My one sister asked me why I was doing that to our family. When I told her I wasn’t making them mad on purpose, she walked away and rarely spoke to me again. It got so I didn’t talk to anybody, even Gram, though I’d spend hours in the barn talking to the animals. My mother hated my dog. I think she was jealous because the dog wouldn’t mind anybody but me. She’d get so mad when the dog wouldn’t come to her, so she’d throw stuff at her and try to scare her.”

Mary Jo was unaware Chris was crying until she saw her wipe her eyes on her sleeve. “Chris?”

“One time they sent me to spend the night at Gram’s. I was thrilled to be away from them, even for a night. But when I got home the next day, I ran toward the barn and found…” Chris sobbed as tears coursed down her cheeks.

Mary Jo got up and went to her. She put her arm around Chris’s shoulders and pulled her close.

In a voice hoarse with emotion, Chris continued talking through the pain. “I found a pile of smoldering, charred wood that used to be the barn. My horse and dog were inside. They didn’t have a chance.” Chris took a deep breath and leaned into Mary Jo’s comforting embrace.

Mary Jo was speechless as tears ran down her own cheeks. “Oh, my God, you were so young. I can’t imagine how you survived all that on your own. Were your sisters’ horses in there, too?” Mary Jo asked gently.

“Conveniently, they’d gone to a horse show and were boarded at a show barn. I always thought my parents set that fire, but I didn’t know of any way to prove it.”

“I am so sorry, Chris. I can’t imagine how you lived through it all.”

“After that, I started to pawn my stuff for money. I had to get out of there.”

“Have you seen your Gram since you left?”

“No, and that’s been one of the hardest things I’ve had to live with. I wanted to, but I was afraid they’d find out where I was and drag me back to that hell.” Chris wiped her eyes on her sleeve again. “So there you have it. My dog and horse were my only links to sanity. I avoided people like the plague for a long time because I didn’t trust anybody.” She reached up and wiped away Mary Jo’s tears with a caress of her thumb. “Don’t cry. That part of my life is over. When I ran, I ran hard and never once looked back. Thank God Bill found me when he did.”

Mary Jo slid her arm from Chris’s shoulder and took both of Chris’s hands in hers. “I don’t know what to say other than I am so, so sorry. God, if I’d gone through what you did, I’d have nightmares for life.”

Chris pulled herself free and stood gazing into the flames with her hands shoved deep in her pockets. “The dreams wake me up sometimes.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “I’ve never told anyone parts of that story, not even Bill.” She turned around and added with a forced smile, “I’m glad you know.” She smacked her lips together. “Um, I’m also a little drunk from all that wine.”

Mary Jo said tenderly, “I’m not surprised. You drank an entire bottle by yourself, Martel. It’s getting late. Will you be okay, or would you like me to stay?” She sensed what Chris would answer but thought she’d offer anyway.

Chris smiled wanly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You bet.” Mary Jo got up and walked to the door.

Chris stayed where she was for another minute and then followed Mary Jo to the mudroom where she was busy pulling on her boots. “Thanks for making dinner.”

“It was my pleasure.” Mary Jo laced her boots and stood up. She pulled on her coat and stood very close to Chris. She cupped Chris’s chin in her hand, leaned in, and gently kissed her on the lips.

“Go to bed and take care of yourself. I’ll see you soon.” As she walked out, she heard the latch click behind her. How would Chris react tomorrow?

Chapter 16

Mary Jo was almost home when she received an emergency call: a truck towing a horse trailer on the interstate had slid off the road and flipped over. She immediately turned around and headed to the clinic to switch trucks. Thankfully, since she’d restocked the vet box before going to Chris’s farm earlier, she got back on the road promptly.

She found traffic backed up about a mile, but a police cruiser waited to escort her. Following the officer, she drove on the shoulder to the overturned trailer. Emergency vehicles were already at the site, blue and red flashing lights reflecting off the black sky.

Mary Jo parked her rig as close as possible so she wouldn’t have to go far for supplies. She’d seen horses walk away from accidents like this with barely a scratch, and she hoped the poor animals inside the overturned trailer were as lucky. The two horses had been trapped for an hour before she arrived.

When an officer approached with a grim look on his face, she knew it wasn’t good.

“I’m Doctor Mary Jo Cavanaugh,” she said. “I got here as soon as I could.” She took a deep breath to quell her sudden nervousness. The situation seemed serious, and everyone would be looking at her for direction. She blew her breath out slowly, and her tension subsided. She could do this; she had trained for it.

“Hey, Doc, I hope you can do something for those two buggers,” the officer said, clearly worried. “There’s blood everywhere, and the owner thinks one of them broke his leg. If I can help in any way, just yell.”

Mary Jo noted the nametag on the officer’s uniform. “Okay, Jerry. I called and arranged for a horse ambulance to be dispatched from Cornell. They’ll transport them once we get them out and stabilized. Can we get a police escort to Ithaca?” As she spoke, she opened a side door on the vet box. She grabbed her stethoscope and a pen light in lieu of a flashlight, which she thought might cause the horses to panic.

“Sure. That’s a reasonable request. I’ll call my lieutenant and do it myself. By the way, the driver and his wife are over by the trailer. I’ll tell them who you are so you can get right to it.”

“Good. Okay, let’s see what we’ve got.” She trotted over to the trailer which lay on its side. Shards of safety glass lay strewn over the road, and her boots crunched with every step. Eerily, she could detect no sounds from inside the trailer.

A diesel tow truck with a bright halogen light mounted on the roof idled nearby. The rest of the world disappeared in the utter blackness at the edges of the ring of light, as though nothing else existed.

Mary Jo climbed up onto the trailer, careful not to alarm the horses with too much noise. She talked softly to them as she worked her way to the front. The windows were completely gone, probably shattered on impact.

When she looked down, she could see glass covering a dark inert form. Unfortunately, the light from the tow truck didn’t extend far enough into the trailer. She pulled the pen light from her shirt pocket and shined it around.

A warm, metallic smell hit her, mixed with the scent of horse sweat and manure. Jesus. There’s blood everywhere.

Somehow, the horse that should have been in the stall nearest the ground was on top of the other. She couldn’t tell which legs belonged to which animal. The horse underneath the other extended its head forward in an attempt to breathe. Mary Jo carefully reached in, intent on assessing his level of shock. She lifted the horse’s upper lip and pressed her thumb against his gum to create a white mark. In a healthy animal, the mark would return to pink in a few seconds. Her hand came away sticky with blood. She couldn’t see anything.

The horse’s eyes were closed, and he moaned with every breath. It clearly took a tremendous amount of concentration for him to inhale and exhale through the greatly flared nostrils.

“Easy guys, we’ll get you out of here,” she murmured.

The horse on top looked at her with eyes wide with fear and nickered.

As she turned to get off the trailer, she realized Jerry was standing near the wheels.

“Jerry, would you run and get my vet bag? It’s on the passenger side floor.” She wiped her hands on her jeans and checked the other horse’s gums. Again, her hand came away bloody. “Damn it. I can’t see anything with all this blood.”

Jerry darted away before she finished her sentence and promptly returned with her bag.

“Thanks. One more thing,” she said. “In the left side of my box, there should be a couple bags of lactated Ringer’s. In the drawer to the right, you’ll find IV tubing. Would you bring two sets of each?”

“On it, Doc.”

He was back in a few minutes, breathing hard from the effort.

“Great, thanks. Ever think about becoming a vet’s assistant?” Mary Jo opened an IV set and inserted one end into the fluid bag. She repeated the same procedure on the other.

“I think I’ll stay with police work, Doc. If I had to see stuff like this every day, I’d cry like a baby.”

Mary Jo glanced at him. “You’re the kind of people we like to have.”

Jerry stood nearby while Mary Jo carefully inserted an IV into each horse’s neck. After securing the fluid bags onto their halters with vet wrap and surgical tape, she wasn’t sure how much of the Ringer’s would run through the lines, so she let them run wide open, hoping that it would be enough to prevent the horses from going further into shock.

She pushed her upper body back out of the trailer. Sweating from the effort, she wiped her brow. Her bloody hand left a stickiness on her forehead. She looked at Jerry and said, “I’m going to tranquilize these guys, and then we’ll need a Sawzall to cut through the side of the trailer. I also need some blankets to cover the horses’ eyes to protect them from the shrapnel and sparks.”

“You got it, Doc.” Jerry turned and quickly disappeared.

While holding the pen light in her mouth, Mary Jo prepared the injections. She put one syringe in her mouth next to the pen light, leaned in, and injected the top horse, switched syringes, and injected the other. They were going to have to work fast and efficiently to get the horse on top out; otherwise the one on the bottom was in danger of suffocating from the combined effects of the tranquilizer and the additional weight.

Mary Jo put the syringes and pen light back in the bag, took the blankets Jerry handed her, and gently laid them over the horses’ heads. Still bent over, she did a quick check of the vitals she could reach and got out of the way of the fireman with the saw.

While a crew worked to saw a flap and peel back the side of the trailer, Mary Jo arranged for assistance from the tow truck. The only way to get the first horse out would be to drag it by its back legs until it was free of the wreckage. She hoped the horse’s back and legs weren’t broken.

She pulled her coat tighter around her body to stop the chill that had invaded her while she stood by waiting.

She gave the okay to proceed, and they went to work. Within minutes, the top horse was out of the trailer on its side. The slickness of blood made the dragging easier, she found. Assessment of its right front leg confirmed the bone was indeed broken, and she immediately applied an air splint which slowly filled with the horse’s blood. The big bay tried to get up, and assisted by a few well-built firemen, it soon stood on shaky legs.

“Doctor Cavanaugh.”

She turned toward the voice, surprised to see a former professor from Cornell veterinary school. “Doctor Myers, can you assist with the extraction of the other horse?” she asked. “I’ve got my hands full with this one.”

“Of course, you’re in charge.” Dr. Cheryl Myers hurried over to the trailer.

An hour later, she and Myers had stabilized both horses enough to load them into the big horse ambulance. They agreed to each monitor a horse on the way to Cornell. The owners would follow in their truck after the wrecked trailer was righted and hauled away.

Mary Jo left her truck at a nearby service area and rode in the ambulance. She called Doc Hall on the way to let him know what was going on and that she was continuing on to Cornell with the injured horses.

Upon arrival, both horses were triaged and underwent emergency surgery. Mary Jo volunteered to assist as needed. It was late morning before the veterinary staff moved the patients into their respective recovery stalls.

Mary Jo walked on leaden feet to the break room and plopped down at an empty table. Cheryl Myers joined her a few minutes later.

“Nice job in there, Mary Jo,” Myers said.

Mary Jo barely stifled a yawn. “Thanks. I hope they do okay.”

“Your excellent field work probably kept them alive. It was a good idea to start IVs on them before you extracted them. Good thing you aren’t any bigger. You would never have fit through that window.”

“The horse on the bottom was going into shock so I figured I’d better stick both of them.”

“Why don’t you stay for a few days and help with the monitoring? We have some other cool cases in here that you’d be interested in.”

“Really? All right, let me clear it with my boss, and I’ll let you know. Thanks.”

When Mary Jo spoke with Doc later, he assured her he’d be able to handle the clinic’s caseload himself. Wasn’t that what he’d already been doing for years?

After she finished talking business with him, she asked Doc if he would give Chris a call and let her know she’d be gone a couple days and would get in touch with her when she got back. She and Chris needed to talk, but it shouldn’t be over the phone. Still, she considered it polite to let Chris know she wouldn’t be able to resume their training tomorrow as promised. Assuring her that he would do as asked, Doc hung up. Mary Jo went to the on-call room to catch a few hours of sleep.

As tired as she was, the much-needed shut-eye eluded her. She couldn’t keep the story Chris had told her out of her mind. How could a parent inflict such cruelty on a child they’d conceived and given birth to? And sacrifice the lives of two innocent animals just to inflict another wound? What kind of people would do such a thing?

Although shocked and saddened by Chris’s past, Mary Jo continued to be in awe at the strength and determination it must have taken to heal from those terrible experiences. The Chris Martel she knew was compassionate and loving toward her animals. She wondered if Chris would ever transfer some of that affection to a human.

“Oh, my God, I kissed her!” Mary Jo’s eyes flew wide open. How could I have forgotten? The memory of Chris’s soft lips against hers, no matter how brief, brought a smile to her face. Despite her resolve not to make the first move for fear of endangering any kind of deeper friendship, she’d done it. She’d kissed Chris. At least Chris didn’t slap her. She was sure Chris’s defenses were down because of all the wine, but she didn’t slap her.

Mary Jo couldn’t and wouldn’t deny she was attracted to Chris. God knows, who wouldn’t be attracted to a body like that? But the more she considered it, the more she was convinced that she was just as drawn to Chris’s personality.

One part of her said her feelings were a reaction to the things she’d learned about Chris’s past, but another part argued it was the right time and the right move. When Mary Jo got home, they should talk about it face-to-face.

Her mind finally shut down as she drifted into a fitful sleep.

Over the next few days, Myers involved Mary Jo in several other critical cases and kept her so busy that every night she dropped exhausted onto a cot in the on-call room. She had arrived at the school with just the clothes on her back, so she had to wear borrowed scrubs the entire time.

Although the horses from the overturned trailer had a long road to recovery ahead of them, both responded well to their surgeries and subsequent treatments. Mary Jo and Myers met with the owners on a daily basis to keep them updated on the progress.

On Wednesday night, Mary Jo hitched a ride back to the truck stop with one of the vet students and drove home. She didn’t want to miss breakfast with Frances or the opportunity to spend more time with Chris. Despite the fact that she was older than Chris by a few years, she admired her so much that it often felt like she was the youngster in their relationship.

She missed Chris, plain and simple. While she’d never deny the physical attraction she felt, neither could she ignore her increasing affection.

Chapter 17

By Wednesday evening, Chris realized that almost a week had passed since Mary Jo had been over, and she hadn’t called. Her heart grew heavy every time she thought about it. The last time she had seen Mary Jo, she’d ridden an incredible emotional roller coaster. Between trying to ignore her growing attraction to Mary Jo and opening up about her past, she felt mentally exhausted.

Pride, and her ingrained guardedness and intense sense of privacy, prevented her from calling the clinic and asking for Mary Jo.

Chris recalled how she had nearly run to the house after the incident in the round pen. She’d flung the door open and leaned against it after it closed behind her as unfamiliar feelings scorched her body. Oh sure, she had felt arousal plenty of times, but arousal alone wasn’t what she felt that day. She felt an emotion unlike anything she’d previously experienced.

She’d downed a beer and had let the alcohol course through her system, thankfully numbing her heightened senses.

She hoped Mary Jo still wasn’t aware of how close she’d been to losing all restraint. How she’d barely refrained from turning her around in her arms and kissing her madly. Chris groaned. She’d have to be dead not to feel it. Maybe she was just paranoid. Maybe Mary Jo remained ignorant. Right. Keep telling yourself that, Martel.

After working Stetson, Chris took the dogs for another walk up the mountain. Sure enough, snow had fallen and covered all the trees with a blanket of white. On her way up, she paused long enough to listen to the call of a Barred Owl. Shortly afterward, another owl answered. Probably looking for a mate, she thought. The idea of a mate was foreign to her, but she couldn’t deny her growing feelings for Mary Jo.

She and the dogs didn’t stay up top very long. The wind had a nasty cold bite to it. On the way down, she took her time winding back and forth in the protection of the trees.

To her amusement, Sadie apparently hadn’t been able to find any rabbits, so she stuck close to the Labs in case they found something interesting. Chris noticed plenty of deer and squirrel tracks, but nothing worth the dogs’ while to chase.

As she trudged through the snow, she decided she would head into Rochester after finishing her evening chores. It couldn’t hurt, and God knew she could use the distraction. She was tired of trying to figure out why she felt calm and at ease one minute and unsettled and restless the next. It had to be Mary Jo’s influence, she thought, although she’d never experienced such intense feelings for another human being, let alone another woman.

Chris was used to pouring all of her love, trust, hopes, and dreams into the dogs and horses. Was it possible she could actually be falling for Mary Jo? She had never been in an actual relationship with another woman. She wasn’t even sure what that might be like. The sexual play she enjoyed at the bar was enough to satisfy her body’s needs, but admitting the truth to herself, she knew no one had ever touched her heart until now. Nor had she ever wanted anybody to.

Later, she revisited those same thoughts as she drove to Rochester. Mary Jo’s kiss that night had surprised her, yes, but it also felt so right. Mary Jo’s lips had conveyed nothing but caring, and looking into the depths of those brown eyes made Chris feel right at home.

When she reached her destination, she parked the car and entered Angie’s through the rear door as usual. Threading her way around to the bar, she thought she caught a glimpse of Sky in the back. She took a seat at the bar and noticed Angie pouring shots for a group on the end.

Angie caught sight of Chris and hurried down to her. “Hey, doll, what’re you having, the usual?”

“Yeah, a draft sounds good.” Chris couldn’t believe how loud it was inside the bar. “Crowded in here tonight.”

“Yup, big birthday party down there.” Angie pointed with her chin at the group she’d just left. “I think this crazy weather has everybody in a funk, so they all come here to unwind.” She winked at Chris. “How’re you doing, C-Breeze? Is something bothering you?” When Chris shook her head, Angie added, “Those gorgeous eyes of yours don’t have the wild blue spark in them I’m accustomed to seeing.”

Chris sighed. She took a mouthful of beer and swallowed hard. She knew she could unload on Angie. Everybody did. The bar owner usually listened and gave sound advice, as past experience had shown her. “I’m trying to figure some stuff out, is all.”

“Uh-huh. Sounds like girl troubles. Are you with anybody now?”

“No, I’m not even sure what that means, to tell you the truth.”

“Listen,” Angie said sincerely, “I’m going to give you some advice that I, myself, should have followed a long time ago.”

Chris raised her eyebrows.

“Follow your heart, C-Breeze. It knows what’s good for you.”

Before Chris could respond, Sky stood close behind her. Sky wrapped her arms around Chris’s waist and leaned in close to her ear. “Your turn, babe. I saw you come in, but I couldn’t get that girl in the bathroom to get off any quicker.” Her breath reeked of beer and sex.

Glancing at Angie, Chris saw her shake her head once and walk away to the other end of the bar. Chris spun her stool around and sat facing Sky.

As Sky ran her hands up and down her arms, Chris found it curious that her body wasn’t responding as it had in the past. Suddenly the stark contrast between Mary Jo and Sky became obvious. Sky wasn’t the woman of her dreams. Sky didn’t care about what Chris thought, how she felt inside, what made her tick. Mary Jo was that woman.

Realization dawned. This was what her heart had been trying to tell her for weeks, while the truth was blatantly staring her in the face. Who had been occupying her every thought? Mary Jo, not Sky. Now everything was so clear.

Sky’s hands were wandering seductively down her thighs. Chris grabbed them. “No,” she said.

“What? Don’t play me like that, Breeze.” Sky pouted her lips for obvious effect. She tried to free her hands, but Chris held them firm.

“Sky, listen to me. You’ve been good to me. God knows you’ve been good. But you and I would never work. Other than sex, we have nothing in common.”

“Aw, Breeze, honey, we could give it a shot.”

“No, Sky. We can’t. What I’m trying to tell you is that I’m falling in love with someone else.”

“What?” The muscles in Sky’s jaws worked as she clenched her teeth.

“It’s true. And I hope you find someone who’ll love you, too.” Unable to stop herself, Chris grinned and repeated, “I’m falling in love with someone.” It felt so good to admit it and say the words aloud. She released Sky’s hands and turned away for a moment to take a swallow of her beer.

She swiveled back around on her stool and heard Sky’s cry of rage, but she didn’t have time to avoid the fist that hit her square in the face and split her lip. The momentum of the blow caused her to lose her balance.

Chris fell off the stool, landed hard on her back, and had the wind knocked out of her. She tasted blood and barely heard Angie’s yell as Sky kicked her in the ribs over and over, screaming, “You fucking bitch!”

Chris rolled into a ball to protect herself.

“You used me, you cunt.” Sky kicked Chris again and connected with her cheek.

Her teeth clacked shut. Light sparked behind her eyes with every vicious blow. Every kick hurt like hell. Blood, hot and metallic, ran down her throat. Chris grunted through the pain and sat up, supporting herself on an elbow, to clear the flow of blood that threatened to gag her. Sky landed a blow to her thigh, but she already hurt so badly, she barely noticed.

The bar had grown silent. Chris caught a momentary glimpse of Angie coming around the side of the bar carrying the baseball bat she kept hidden by the beer taps. Chris closed her eyes against Sky’s incessant blows. Suddenly the kicking stopped, and she dared open her eyes.

Angie jabbed Sky in the chest with the bat and pushed her forcefully away. She stood guard over Chris with the bat raised threateningly. She said to Sky in a low voice, “Touch her again, and I’ll knock your fucking block off.”

Three women suddenly surrounded the group. One of them, a bouncer, roughly yanked Sky’s arms behind her and pulled her away from Chris and Angie.

“I’ll fucking kill you if I ever see you again!” Sky yelled as the bouncer dragged her away. “You haven’t seen the last of me, bitch.”

“Get her the hell out of here, and don’t ever let her back in,” Angie called to the bouncer. After resting the bat against the bar, she squatted down to look at Chris. “Somebody, get me some ice.” She pulled Chris over onto her back and carefully propped her up against her chest. “C-Breeze, honey, are you with me?”

Chris’s lip was bloody and already swollen. Her eye wasn’t far behind. Her ribs hurt like hell, but she didn’t think any were broken. “Yeah,” she said faintly. “Help me up, will you?” She rubbed the ache from her jaw and checked to see if any teeth were loose or broken.

Angie pulled Chris’s arm over her burly shoulder and hoisted her up. “I hope that woman of yours likes the colors of the rainbow because, girl, you’re going to be sporting all of them in a couple of days.”

Chris tried to laugh, but the pain in her ribs shot around to her back, and she couldn’t smile because of her lip. “Ouch! Don’t make me laugh, Angie.”

Angie helped Chris back onto her stool and took the bag of ice someone gave her. She handed it to Chris. “Here, put this on your… well, maybe we need a bigger bag.”

Chris playfully slapped Angie’s arm. “Just give it to me.” She held the cold pack against her eye. “Jesus, I never saw that coming.”

“That Sky has no control over her temper. I have no idea what cocktail of drugs she’s on tonight, but one minute she’s hornier than hell, and the next she’s meaner than a bear.” Angie tilted Chris’s chin up and examined her. “You should see a doctor to make sure nothing inside is hurt.”

Chris closed her eyes and carefully shook her head. “No, I’ll be all right.”

“Are you sure? Stay here. I’ll get you some aspirin. You’re going to need a lot of it in the next few days.”

While Angie was gone, Chris rotated the ice bag from her eye to her lip and back again. Although her body throbbed all over, her mind felt clearer than it had in years.

Angie came back with four aspirin and a glass of water. “Here, take these and then look at me. I want to make sure you don’t have a concussion.” She handed her the pills and glass and peered into Chris’s eyes. “I want to compare the size of your pupils.”

“Bartender and doctor?” Chris slid the aspirin into her mouth and swallowed the pills down with water. “Ow. Shit.”

“Yup, pain comes with the territory. Are you okay to drive home? Or do I need to make other arrangements?”

Chris knew Angie would drive her home without her asking. “No, Angie, thanks. I’ll be okay.”

“You just sit here until that ice melts. I’ll get you some coffee to keep you awake. How’re the ribs?”

“They hurt like hell, but I can breathe okay. I guess that means they’re not broken.”

“Good news.” Angie helped Chris move to the end of the bar to avoid her being jostled by other patrons, and presumably so she could also keep an eye on her in case Sky managed to slip back in unnoticed. The bouncers had shown Sky the door and, not so nicely, given her a push outside.

It took two strong cups of coffee and another hour before Chris felt like she could make the drive home. She put the bag of melted ice on the bar and slid off her stool. Angie came over and pulled her into a tight hug, mindful of her sore ribs.

“Good luck, C-Breeze. You go home and tell that woman she has somebody special. Tell her I’ll come looking for her if she isn’t good to you.”

Chris squeezed the woman in return. “Thanks, Angie. I’ll miss you.” Her attempt to smile felt somewhat lopsided.

“I’ll miss you, too.” Angie released Chris and shoved her hands into her pockets. “I’m going to have one of the bouncers walk you to your car just in case Sky is out there lurking someplace.”

”Thanks,” Chris said and left for home.

*   *   *

When Mary Jo made the turn into Frances’s driveway, she was surprised to see Daisy sitting in the middle of the lane.

“That’s odd. Chris must not be here yet.”

From the moment she opened her eyes that morning, she’d anticipated seeing Chris. The closer she came to her destination, the more butterflies she had in her stomach. Now she stopped her truck and opened the door. Daisy came over to the truck’s side, wagging her tail.

“Want a ride?” Mary Jo asked.

Daisy bounded up and over her lap and onto the passenger seat. Mary Jo pulled her door closed and drove up to the house.

She parked the truck in front of the porch, got out, and waited for Daisy to follow. There was still no sign of Chris. She hesitated before turning toward the house, disappointed not to hear Chris’s truck in the distance. She sighed, patted her leg, and called Daisy to follow. “Come on, girl, let’s go see what your mom is cooking today.”

Mary Jo knocked twice on the door to announce her arrival and walked in. Frances met her at the door. The look of worry on her face made Mary Jo forget all the usual pleasantries. “Frances, what’s wrong?” she asked.

“I’m not sure. Have you heard from Chris at all?”

“No, I haven’t seen her since last week. I got called out of town unexpectedly for a few days. I’ve been mostly out of touch with everybody except Doc.”

Frances wrung a dishcloth in her hands. Her graying eyebrows furrowed as she peered past Mary Jo, evidently hoping to see Chris coming down the drive. “It’s just odd, Mary Jo,” she said. “She’s always here early unless she calls and tells me otherwise. I haven’t heard from her, and I’m on my way to a nervous breakdown.”

“I’m sure she’s fine, Frances, but if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll drive over there after breakfast to check on her.” Mary Jo tried to sound convincing, but Frances’s apprehension proved contagious. She changed her mind. “Tell you what, let’s try calling her, and if she doesn’t answer, I’ll go over right now.”

The relief on Frances’s face was instantaneous. “All right.” She reached for the phone that hung next to the door and dialed Chris’s number. Fifteen long seconds passed before she hung up and tried another number, perhaps Chris’s cell phone. “It went right to voice mail.” Frances replaced the receiver.

“All right, you stay here in case she calls. I’ll head over there.” Mary Jo opened the door and ran down the steps. “I’ll call you when I get there.”

As her truck sped down the drive, she tried to quell the sudden panic that threatened to overcome her. “Where the hell are you, Chris?” she asked under her breath.

She barely recognized landmarks as she drove, mentally chastising herself for not taking the time to call Chris while she’d been away at the veterinary school. I should have called her. I should have called.

The last time Mary Jo had seen Chris, she’d left in a haze of thoughts and feelings. She had surprised herself when she kissed Chris and wanted to pull her into her arms and hold her, never let her go, never leave. But considering the emotional turmoil Chris had relived that night, Mary Jo hadn’t thought it was fair to take advantage of the situation. She would never forgive herself had she felt like she’d forced herself on Chris in a moment of vulnerability.

Now she realized her feelings for Chris Martel ran deep. Without being conscious of it, she had fallen hard.

Her knuckles were white as she drove with a death grip on the steering wheel. The truck fishtailed when she turned onto the farm drive, and the tires threw up stones and dirt. Her truck skidded to a stop in front of the barn, her seat belt already released. She turned the ignition off, jumped out, and ran toward the barn before the truck’s engine stopped.

Images of Chris trampled or fatally kicked ran through her head. Her breath came in gasps as she opened the barn door. Neither Chris nor the dogs were inside.

She swung around and ran toward the house. Her knock produced no answer. No dogs barked excitedly on the other side of the door. Just silence.

“Jesus Christ, Martel! Where the hell are you?” She groaned in exasperation. She tapped her forehead with the tips of her fingers, “Think, think, where would she go?” The garage. Her truck. She ran over and peered through the windows. The pickup was parked next to the Taurus. “Shit.”

She turned from the window and leaned against the truck’s bay door, feeling completely defeated. She tilted her head and looked at the sky. Where would Chris go on foot? She could be anywhere on the farm.

Suddenly, Mary Jo recalled meeting Chris on the trailhead at the base of the mountain. Instinct guided her as she sprinted in that direction. Farther up the mountain, she walked onto a thin crust of snow. She stopped, bent over with her arms resting on her knees, and tried to catch her breath. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears.

What was that? Her eyes focused on tracks made by Chris and the dogs. Hope washed over her. Maybe the tracks were fresh. She pushed herself with more resolve.

She looked wildly back and forth as she broke through the stand of trees and into the field, trying to catch sight of Chris or the dogs. Finally, her gaze settled on a pair of legs that stuck out from behind an uprooted tree. Their owner would be protected from the constant wind, she thought.

Her boots crunched through the coating of frozen snow as she walked cautiously toward Chris. She held her breath, afraid of what she might find. Ten feet away from her goal, the dogs heard her and jumped up from the blanket they had been huddling on together. All three ran to her, their tails wagging in a blur.

“Thank God, I found you guys,” Mary Jo said, striding closer. “Chris?”

“Yeah?” Chris sat with her head leaning against the tree trunk, her eyes closed against the sun, her hands resting in her lap.

Mary Jo walked in front of Chris and let out a loud gasp when she saw her black and blue face. Her right eyelid was so swollen she could barely make out the eye beneath. “Oh, my God! What happened to you?” She fell to her knees. As carefully as possible, she held Chris’s face between her hands. “Who did this? Are you okay?”

Chris opened her eyes, smiled, and grimaced in pain when her split lip stretched. “I’m okay. Just a little banged up is all.”

“Who did this to you?” Mary Jo repeated.

“Somebody who thought she needed to knock some sense into me,” Chris said without emotion. She reached up and took Mary Jo’s hands in hers.

Mary Jo’s worry transformed into anger. “Did one of those bitches up at that bar do this to you?”

Chris sighed. “Yeah. She didn’t like it when I said no.”

“No to what? I don’t understand.”

Chris touched Mary Jo’s cheek, softly stroking it with her thumb.

Concerned, Mary Jo gazed at Chris’s bruised face and cataloged her injuries.

“I said no to her, because my heart was saying yes to you,” Chris said.

It took a moment for Mary Jo to grasp what Chris had told her. Finally, she understood. “Are you sure, Chris?” she asked, almost afraid to believe.

“Let me show you.” Chris leaned toward Mary Jo.

Mary Jo became aware only of Chris’s lips. She met them with her own in a soft, lingering kiss until Chris hissed and pulled away.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Chris ran her tongue over her split lip. “Damn, that stings.”

For a minute or two, neither of them said anything else. Mary Jo was content to stare into Chris’s eyes. The pressure in her chest made it difficult to breathe.

At last, Chris leaned back against the tree. Mary Jo reached out to help by putting a hand on her side.

“Umph,” Chris grunted and grimaced. “Sorry, she did a little number on my ribs with her boots.”

Mary Jo withdrew her hand. “Jesus, Martel, we need to get you to a doctor. How the hell did you get up here?”

“It took me about an hour and a half to make it because I took lots of breaks. I was hoping the cold air would take some of the swelling down.”

“You’re incorrigible, you know that?” Mary Jo put Chris’s arm around her shoulder to help her up. As she lifted Chris to her feet, she grunted and muttered, “Christ, I didn’t know it was going to be so much work rescuing a damsel.”

That got a laugh from Chris, but it ended up being more of a groan. “Apparently you’ve never rescued a damsel.” She got her feet under her and slowly stood upright.

Mary Jo shifted her position, reached up, and put her hand on the back of Chris’s neck. She tenderly pulled Chris’s face to her lips and kissed the corner of her mouth. “We’re going to be careful with that lip and make sure it heals fast, because I have some serious kissing planned for you, Martel.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” Chris said, squinting.

Mary Jo wondered how Chris withstood the throbbing she must be feeling on the side of her face. “Oh, shit, I promised I would call Frances,” she said. “She’s worried to death about you. Can we move into the woods and out of the wind?”

Chris nodded. Mary Jo picked the blanket up and draped it around both their shoulders. Afraid to put any pressure on Chris’s sore ribs, she gripped her belt loops with her arms around Chris’s waist and walked with Chris holding onto her tightly as well.

Once they entered the woods, out of the blustery wind, she paused briefly to caress Chris’s face with warmed hands before dialing Frances’s number. Chris absently watched the dogs milling around as the call connected.

“Hi, Frances,” Mary Jo said.

“Did you find Chris?”

“Yes, I found her.”

“Oh, thank heavens.”

“I had to climb a damned mountain to get to her though.”

“Do you need me to come over?” Frances asked, and when Mary Jo told her no, she went on to say, “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine. We’re walking down now.”

“Tell her she’s going to put me in the grave.”

Mary Jo chuckled. “Okay, I’ll tell her.”

“Thank you, Mary Jo.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll call you later.” Mary Jo closed the cell phone and returned it to her pocket. “You are in such big trouble with Frances,” she told Chris.

“I’ll call her later.” Chris frowned. It obviously hadn’t occurred to her to call Frances after the bar scuffle.

Mary Jo knew she must be feeling guilty for putting her dear friend through so much distress. She kissed Chris’s cheek and pushed a strand of hair behind her ears. “I’m sure she’ll forgive you.” She paused and stared at Chris’s swollen face. “But only if you promise us you’ll never go up to that place again.”

Chris pulled her close and whispered in her ear, “I have all the reason in the world, right here in front of me, to make that promise to you.”

“Chris, are you sure you’re ready for a relationship?”

“I’m surer about this than I’ve ever been about anything in my life.”

Mary Jo wanted to believe her. And she wanted Chris. “I need to know I’ll be the only one.” She held her breath, wondering if she’d just asked for the impossible.

“I took a beating. Doesn’t that prove it?”

Mary Jo wrapped her arms around Chris’s shoulders. “Yes.” She held Chris close for several minutes, relishing their combined warmth and sensing their hearts beating as one.

“As much as I would love to stand here all day, holding you,” she said, finally ending the embrace, “I didn’t dress to climb mountains or go on a search-and-rescue mission. Plus, I’m starving. You owe me breakfast, coffee, and several hours of snuggle time.”

Chris laughed. “Ouch. Yeah, okay, let’s go.”

Mary Jo made sure they took their time going down, to let Chris catch her breath. She also indulged in frequent hugs. She took pleasure in the closeness and in knowing Chris felt the same.

Once inside the house, Mary Jo threw a couple of logs on the fire and went into the kitchen to make breakfast. Chris leaned against the counter and watched her.

“You should sit down, Chris,” Mary Jo said, worried that she might be hurting more than she let on.

“I will in a minute.”

When she opened the refrigerator, then the pantry, Mary Jo was delighted to discover that Chris had gone shopping in her absence. “Oh, my God, look at all this food.” She gazed in awe at the stocked shelves.

Chris walked up behind her and wrapped her arms around Mary Jo’s waist. “I went shopping.”

“I guess you did. This is great. I didn’t think you knew what couscous was.”

“I don’t, but I figured you would.” Chris giggled. “I was hoping you’d stay and cook more often.”

Mary Jo turned around in Chris’s arms and smiled. She kissed the side of Chris’s mouth and said, “I will cook for you whenever you want, sweetheart. Now sit down and rest.”

Chris reluctantly released her. “I’ll try to be useful and make us some coffee.”

After the coffee brewed, she placed a mug next to Mary Jo and stood lingering in the kitchen. “Did I make you uncomfortable last week? Is that why you didn’t call?”

Mary Jo abruptly put down the bowl of pancake batter she was mixing and turned to Chris. Chris’s worried expression made her smile. “Didn’t Doc tell you I’d been called away?” When Chris shook her head, she said, “Oh, shit. I am so sorry. He must have forgotten because he had to handle all the calls himself. Chris, last week was an incredible awakening for me. No, you didn’t make me uncomfortable at all. When I left, I knew what I wanted, but I didn’t want to force myself on you. Not when your emotions were so precarious. I wanted this.” She carefully caressed Chris’s face. “But I wanted to be sure we both could handle it, and we both wanted it.”

“Why didn’t you call?”

“I should have, and I’ve been kicking myself in the ass ever since. I was out of town for a couple of days because of a bad horse trailer accident. Those danged professors of mine at Cornell didn’t give me a break. I’m so, so sorry.”

“So you weren’t off gallivanting with an old girlfriend or something?”

“Nope, you were the only woman on my mind.” Mary Jo grinned at her, and after shooing her out of the kitchen, she went back to preparing breakfast.

Chris took her coffee into the living room and sat down on the floor in front of the fire. Sadie left her bed and crawled into Chris’s lap.

Chris was sound asleep when Mary Jo came in with a plate of sausages and pancakes. She quietly sat down beside her.

She let Chris sleep, looking at her bruised face while she ate. She was astounded at the results of the beating. She could only imagine what Chris’s ribs looked like, although despite her face’s appalling condition, Chris looked pain free at the moment.

Chris gradually woke, still foggy from sleep. She took a deep, shaky breath and stretched cautiously. “Did I miss breakfast?”

“No, I came in here with a plate for you and saw you were sleeping so I ate it myself. If you’re ready, I’ll go make some more for you.”

“Thanks. I have to get up anyway. I’m getting stiff sitting here.” Chris moved Sadie off her lap. As she pushed herself up from the floor, she gasped aloud.

“Ribs hurting you?”

“No, they’re fine, just a little sore, is all.”

Mary Jo got up from her chair and went to Chris’s side. She gently tugged the shirt from Chris’s pants and lifted it up. “Jesus Christ, Martel!” The skin over Chris’s ribs sported mottled colors ranging from green to almost black. She made out distinct boot prints in the bruises. “Are you sure you don’t want to see a doctor?”

Chris pulled her shirt out of Mary Jo’s hands and tucked it into her jeans. “I told you I’m fine. I know what broken ribs feel like. A few years ago a yearling blindsided me while I was out in the pasture. He broke three of them. So no, I don’t need a doctor.”

“All right, but I’m telling you, if you keel over dead on me, I’ll never forgive you,” Mary Jo scolded, trying to look stern.

“I won’t. I give you my word.”

Mary Jo looked at her watch and sighed. “Unfortunately, I’ve got to go to work. Will you be okay till I get back?”

“Only if you promise that you’ll come back.”

Mary Jo carefully pressed her lips to Chris’s in a long, gentle kiss filled with assurance. “Is that promise enough?”

Breathlessly, Chris said, “Oh, yeah."

Mary Jo prepared Chris’s breakfast but had to leave while Chris ate. “You take it easy until I get back here, understand?” As a quick afterthought, she put a bottle of aspirin and a glass of water on the table in the living room.

Chris mumbled something inaudible through a mouth stuffed with pancake.

“I swear, some things never change,” Mary Jo said as she let herself out the door.

Chapter 18

Chris spent the remainder of the day dozing in front of the fire with the dogs. When she wasn’t half-asleep, she was thinking about Mary Jo. Constant streams of thoughts and images ran through her mind. She had committed to memory the feel of Mary Jo’s lips on her own, the warmth of her embrace, and the comfort she exuded.

Between naps, she found the courage to call Frances. Thankfully, Frances was more concerned than mad. Chris assured her she was fine and that Mary Jo was looking after her, which caused Frances to giggle.

After promising she would stop by soon, Chris hung up.

Late that afternoon, she gingerly got up from the couch and felt stiff and achy. “I guess it’s time for more aspirin and for chores.” She groaned and clutched her side.

“You’re not lifting a finger out there,” a voice ordered from the mudroom.

Neither she, nor the dogs, had heard Mary Jo’s truck in the drive. The dogs jumped up and scrambled to greet her.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I see you,” Mary Jo said. “Did you girls make your mom behave while I was gone?”

Chris smiled at the thumping of happy tails and Mary Jo’s conversation with the dogs. She dumped a couple of aspirin from the bottle into her hand and washed the pills down with water as the dogs led Mary Jo to the living room, prancing around her feet the whole time.

On entering, Mary Jo exclaimed, “Wow, the swelling has gone down a lot. Now I can see into both of those beautiful eyes.” She closed the distance between them and reached up to give Chris a tender caress. “But you, my dear, are going to have one hell of a black eye.” Mary Jo scrutinized her face. “You’ve already got a black and blue tinge starting to develop around the perimeter. And your eye is pretty bloodshot. But I think, fortunately for me, it won’t detract from your gorgeous face.”

“I’m glad you came back so soon.” Chris enjoyed the feel of Mary Jo’s gentle touch on her face. She leaned into it, closed her eyes, and blindly reached for Mary Jo’s waist. She drew her into her arms.

“Wild horses couldn’t keep me away,” Mary Jo said. “After I told them you’d had an accident and reassured them you’d be okay, Doc and Donna practically pushed me out of the clinic. Doc said he would take the last appointment for me, too.”

“That was nice of him.” Chris ran her lips along Mary Jo’s neck, tasting her, smelling her. “Remind me to thank him.”

Coherent thought became difficult as she explored Mary Jo’s neck with her mouth. She wandered along her jaw and finally stopped to claim her lips.

The kiss began gently and soon became more urgent. Mary Jo wrapped her arms carefully around Chris’s waist. Her mouth parted at the teasing of Chris’s tongue, and she accepted it into her mouth. Chris’s exploring tongue lovingly circled Mary Jo’s, gradually seeking more and more.

Regretfully, Chris broke the kiss. Her lip stung like a bitch. She looked at Mary Jo’s mouth and saw a smear of blood. Wiping the smudge off with her thumb, she noted Mary Jo’s concern, but chose to ignore it.

She leaned in for more, but Mary Jo abruptly stopped her by putting a hand against her chest and pushing.

Mary Jo stared at Chris’s mouth. “Oh, babe, look at your lip. We’ve got to let that heal some before we do that again.”

“I’m not sure I can wait. I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long.”

Mary Jo grinned. “Me, too, but we can’t do it like that. It’ll never heal.”

Chris let out an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, Nurse Ratched, if I can’t kiss you the way I want, what do you suggest?” She slowly slid her hand from Mary Jo’s waist to just below her breast. Mary Jo grabbed her hand before she could go any farther.

“It’s obvious I have to set some ground rules, Martel.” Mary Jo escaped Chris’s embrace. “As much as I hate to say it, I think it best we behave ourselves until you’re healed.”

Chris couldn’t hide her disappointment. “You’re not serious.” She had lain awake fantasizing about what it would be like to make love to Mary Jo. “We can be careful.”

Mary Jo laughed. “Oh, yeah, right. That last kiss was a good indicator of how careful we can be. I’m serious, Chris. I want to make love with you. God, I do. But I don’t want to have to worry about hurting you. And I don’t want you distracted by trying to hide the fact that you’re in pain.”

“You’re killing me here, Cav, you know that, right?” But Chris knew, deep down, that Mary Jo was right. “Good thing I’m a fast healer then.” The determined look in Mary Jo’s eyes told her she wasn’t kidding. “But I guess I can be patient.”

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Mary Jo asked as Chris walked past her into the mudroom.

“Have to feed the horses.”

“I’m coming with you to help.”

“No, stay here. It may take me a little longer but I think I can manage. There’s not much to do at night.” Chris tried not to look at Mary Jo as she put her boots on. “See, I figure the more I move around, the faster the bruising will go away. And the faster the bruising goes away…” She looked straight at Mary Jo. “The faster I can have my way with you.”

Chris’s heart swelled with affection and excitement of things to come, and a feeling of complete contentment settled in her chest as she finished pulling on her boots. There were finally no secrets left for her to keep.

In the mudroom, when Chris wiggled her eyebrows and leered, Mary Jo couldn’t help laughing. While the swelling around Chris’s eye had diminished a great deal, her lopsided attempt was comical. Mary Jo’s laughter was short-lived, though, because when her gaze locked with Chris’s, there was no mistaking the desire she saw. Her legs went weak. Calling on all of her willpower, she turned away from Chris and went toward the kitchen.

“While you’re out getting rid of your bruising, I’ll make us some dinner. I may even make some of that couscous you bought.” Mary Jo giggled as she went into the kitchen. She heard Chris mumble something about “smart-ass,” and she and the dogs left for the barn.

By the time Mary Jo heard boots and paws at the door again, she’d put together a nice meal consisting of grilled chicken breasts, couscous for Chris’s benefit, and mixed vegetables. Given her state of heightened arousal, she was quite proud of how fast she’d been able to come up with something. She kept recalling the unguarded desire in Chris’s eyes. It had been a very long time since a woman looked at her that way.

“Smells great in here.” Chris hung up her fleece and tentatively pulled her boots off. She walked into the kitchen where Mary Jo stood pouring glasses of wine.

As Chris neared, Mary Jo picked up one of the glasses and handed it to her. Before taking a sip, Chris leaned closer, brushed her lips softly against Mary Jo’s cheek, and nuzzled her neck.

“I hate to do this, but would you please stop?” Mary Jo said. “You know we won’t be able to control ourselves.”

“Can we at least sit in front of the fire and snuggle while we wait for dinner?”

“Yeah, it’ll be about half an hour yet.” Hardly able to ignore Chris’s lips caressing the pulse pounding in her neck, Mary Jo pulled away. She put on a stern look, shook her finger, and said, “But don’t try anything. You have to promise to be good.”

“Okay, okay. Sheesh!” Chris put her hands up in surrender. “I’ll behave. Just sit with me and let me hold you. I’d like that.”

“So would I.” Mary Jo was having a hard time and so was Chris. She was sure of it. But for Chris’s sake, she needed to keep her libido in check.

After dinner, while sitting in front of the fire, Chris asked, “So when did you figure out you were a lesbian?”

Mary Jo chuckled and said, “During my first semester at Cornell. I met three women who were really good friends. They were so relaxed about it, and they took me under their wings. I found out that what I had been feeling for years was quite normal.”

“That’s cool. I never had any gay friends. Until you, that is.” Chris kissed Mary Jo’s cheek. “Did you have any relationships at school?”

“Are you kidding? My curriculum was insanely intense. Between classes, study groups, labs, and shadowing my mentor, who the hell had time?”

Chris looked at her incredulously. “So you’re saying you’re a virgin?”

Mary Jo snorted. “Not hardly. I slept around. Sometimes the need to take the edge off overwhelmed my ability to think. So my friends and I would go to one of the gay bars in Ithaca. I’d pick someone up, and off we’d go.”

“But you’ve never been in love.”

“No.” Mary Jo reached up and caressed Chris’s cheek with the back of her hand. “I avoided relationships like the plague. A couple of close friends broke up and had such a hard time of it, they both dropped out of vet school. I wasn’t about to let that happen.” She got up and pulled a quilt off the back of the couch. After sitting back down next to Chris, she draped it over both of them.

Chris was quiet for so long, Mary Jo wondered if she had dozed off. She turned her head and saw Chris staring intently into the fire. “Is there something wrong, Chris?” she asked.

“No. I was just wondering what you do now. I mean, to take the edge off.”

“You needn’t worry, sweetheart. I have my own collection of toys to keep me entertained. That is, if I have any energy at the end of the day.”

“Isn’t that what battery-operated toys are for? So you don’t have to do anything?” Chris gave her a mischievous look.

“I still have to have the energy to turn it on, babe.” Mary Jo yawned and Chris did, too. She should go home and let them both get their rest, but in all honesty, she felt she could sit right here forever.

Chapter 19

A week and a half dragged by with agonizing slowness as Chris’s lip and ribs healed. Despite Chris’s assertions that she could manage by herself, Mary Jo did whatever she could to help with chores. They had some delightful evenings when they held each other close and talked quietly while sitting in front of the fire. Mary Jo had laughingly slapped Chris’s hands when they began wandering. It was tempting to let matters go beyond the point of no return, but she still wanted to make sure their first time together had no distractions. Chris finally admitted to Mary Jo that she was ready for somebody in her life and assured her that she was the only woman she wanted.

This morning, Mary Jo drove up to the barn and quietly sneaked inside. The dogs had heard her open the barn door, but thankfully hadn’t made a fuss as they ran to greet her. She was hoping to surprise Chris, who wasn’t expecting her until much later since it was surgery day at the clinic. However, Doc had postponed the single scheduled procedure until after the New Year.

Mary Jo loved watching Chris work Stetson in the round pen. The relationship between Chris and the stallion, where the only language spoken was the graceful movement of their bodies, amazed her no matter how many times she witnessed it.

The barn was quiet except for the swish of hooves moving through the sand. Mary Jo glanced up and noticed a few sparrows that flitted soundlessly from rafter to rafter as they eagerly followed the rays of sun coming through the skylights.

She stayed out of sight and leaned against the opening to the ring, her legs and arms crossed to stay warm. The dogs had grown bored shortly after she’d given them their treats and calmly deserted her to go into the warm office.

Though her feet were starting to feel the cold, she couldn’t resist staying to watch Chris. Chris’s movements as she directed the stallion were unhindered, graceful, and confident, despite her layers of clothing.

Mary Jo recalled Chris lying naked by the pond last summer. The thought of that toned body on top of her sent her thwarted libido sky high.

The clink of the gate snapped her out of her daydream. Chris was finished and was coming back to the stall area.

Not knowing exactly why, Mary Jo ducked farther out of sight and waited for Chris and Stetson to pass by. As she flattened herself against the wall, she heard Chris talking to the horse in low tones. The sound of hooves hitting the cement floor was barely audible above the pounding of her heart. She held her breath, convinced Chris would hear her, and relaxed when they disappeared out of sight down the aisle. She was trying to decide what to do next when she heard the scuffle of boots purposefully coming her way.

Mary Jo felt like a deer caught in headlights as Chris moved toward her and Chris’s blue gaze bored into hers. Her breath caught. Chris strode closer, a half smile riding her lips. Mary Jo’s legs trembled as the distance between them diminished, step-by-step. She gasped when Chris stopped in front of her. Swallowing nervously, Mary Jo stared, fascinated, at the throbbing pulse in Chris’s neck.

She and Chris reached for each other at the same time and put their lips together in a kiss that grew hungrier and hotter with each passing second. Chris urgently ran her fingers through Mary Jo’s hair.

Mary Jo opened her mouth, inviting Chris’s tongue to dance with her own. Chris pushed her against the wall. A muscled thigh nudged between her legs, and she pressed against it willingly. She let go of Chris’s head and trailed her hands down to the swell of breasts beneath the shirt.

Boldly and without hesitation, Mary Jo yanked Chris’s flannel shirt out of the waistband of her jeans and reached underneath to feel her soft, warm skin. Goosebumps rose under her trailing touch. She wondered whether it was caused by the cold air or something else… something more exciting.

Chris’s moan, and the way her nipples instantly hardened when Mary Jo cupped her bare breasts, almost sent her over the edge.

Chris broke their kiss, breathing hard, her eyes filled with desire. “God, I want you,” she said. She grabbed Mary Jo’s arm and led her into the office.

As the door banged closed behind them, Chris turned, pulled Mary Jo’s coat off, and shoved her sweater and turtleneck over her head. Mary Jo’s nipples tightened under Chris’s stare.

“Beautiful,” Chris whispered. She lowered her mouth to Mary Jo’s breast, and her hand closed over the other.

Chris’s tongue twirled around her nipple, making it even harder. Mary Jo’s eyes slammed shut. She found Chris’s head and pulled that tormenting mouth tighter against her breast. “Jesus, Martel!” she gasped.

Chris undid her jeans, reached in, and shoved aside the crotch of her underwear. Callused fingers searched and then cupped her tightly.

“Oh, God, please, Chris,” she moaned as Chris’s fingers moved over her clit, through her wetness, and back to circle her throbbing center. “Oh, oh, God, yes.”

Mary Jo tried to take a deep breath, feeling the first stirrings of an orgasm as Chris’s fingers entered her and her thumb rubbed rhythmically against her clit.

In a few short seconds, Mary Jo climaxed. Her muscles tightened around Chris’s fingers. Her hips rocked. When Chris’s lips found their way to her neck, Mary Jo called out Chris’s name as she came, thrusting forcefully against Chris’s hand.

Mary Jo felt her own pulse against Chris’s cheek as she struggled to catch her breath.

Chris gently pulled her fingers out but didn’t move. She just stood there, and her lips rested against Mary Jo’s neck as she caught her breath.

When Chris finally pulled back, Mary Jo leaned in and captured Chris’s lips. She kissed her and allowed the contact to linger.

Mary Jo finally found her voice. “Wow, maybe we should make ourselves wait more often.”

“Two minutes?”

“Um, too long.” Mary Jo’s voice sounded low and husky to her ears. She pushed Chris backwards toward the cot. “Way too long.”

When Chris’s legs met the edge of the cot, Sadie barely managed to scramble out of the way before Mary Jo gave Chris another shove and sat her down.

Grasping Chris’s fleece and shirt, Mary Jo pulled the garments over Chris's head and dropped them on the floor.

Gazing at Chris’s bare chest, Mary Jo gasped. Chris’s tanned skin accentuated her beautifully sculpted body. She pushed Chris onto her back and settled on top of her, skin on skin. She ran her hand down Chris’s body and felt the muscles tremble at her touch as she kissed Chris tenderly. Chris drew a quick intake of breath as Mary Jo reached into the waist of her jeans and past her boxers, her hand barely grazing soft pubic curls.

“I want you naked, Chris. I need you naked now.” Mary Jo slid off the cot and squatted at Chris’s feet. She untied her boots and yanked them off. She ran her hands up Chris’s legs, paused at her crotch, and pressed her thumbs against the sensitive area beneath the jeans. She reached for the buttons and deftly unfastened them.

Chris’s gaze remained fixed on hers as she lifted her hips to help Mary Jo pull off her jeans and boxers.

Mary Jo’s hands skimmed over the long length of her body as Chris threw her head back and closed her eyes.

“Look at me, Chris. I want to see your eyes.”

Chris’s struggle to obey was apparent as she responded to the sensual touches.

Mary Jo kissed her way up the length of Chris’s legs, finding the musky scent intoxicating. She paused at the triangle of hair, kissed it briefly, and made Chris moan. She continued to kiss her way up, and the faint smell of patchouli bewitched her senses.

When Mary Jo reached Chris’s breasts, she ran her tongue teasingly around each nipple before taking one inside, suckling gently. She kept her eyes on Chris and slid her hand from Chris’s breast, down her firm stomach, and rested it just above the place she knew Chris needed her to touch.

“Cav. Jesus.” Chris opened her legs wider. “I want you inside me, please.”

Mary Jo slid her hand lower and reached Chris’s need. “Oh, my God, you are so wet.” She moved gentle fingers through Chris’s folds, through her wetness, and suddenly thrust two fingers inside her.

“Yes,” Chris hissed. Her hips rose to meet Mary Jo’s hand.

As Mary Jo moved her fingers, she felt the first trembling of Chris’s orgasm. She continued to thrust deep, her thumb rubbing circles around Chris’s clit.

“Oh, Cav. God…” Chris’s hips bucked, and she came. She blindly reached down and held Mary Jo’s hand inside her as she pushed against it. Renewed spasms shook her entire body. Her breasts rose and fell as she panted.

After a few minutes, Chris took a deep breath. “I don’t think I’ll ever walk again.”

Mary Jo shifted position to rest her head in the crook of Chris’s neck. She felt Chris shiver and propped herself on her elbow. “Are you cold?”

“How come I’m the only one naked?”

“You’re used to the cold, I’m not.”

“Hmmm. Going to have to work on that.”

Chris sat up, out of Mary Jo’s arms, and gathered her clothes. She tossed Mary Jo’s sweater and turtleneck to her.

After Mary Jo put herself together and Chris did the same, Chris reached for her and said, “I had sort of envisioned our first time being slower.”

Mary Jo moved into Chris’s embrace. “Yeah, I did, too. How did you know I was there?”

“I didn’t right away. When I walked into the barn, I thought I caught a whiff of your shampoo. I didn’t think anything about it until I couldn’t smell it anymore.”

Mary Jo breathed a contented sigh and said, “Oh, my God, when I saw you walking toward me with that look in your eye, I almost came right then and there.”

Chris kissed her lightly. “I’m glad you waited for me.”

Mary Jo giggled. “Me, too.”

Later, after chores were finished and the dogs were fed and sleeping in their beds, Chris leaned against the counter watching Mary Jo make dinner. “I’m going to get a complex. Every time you come over, you end up cooking,” she said.

“I told you, I don’t mind it. I especially like it here because your kitchen is so much bigger than mine.” Glancing up from chopping vegetables for a salad, Mary Jo smiled. “Plus the company is better here, too.”

Chris left the counter, stood behind Mary Jo, and wrapped strong arms around her waist. She lowered her head, nipped Mary Jo’s ear, and ran her lips down her neck. “The scenery is definitely better,” she said as her hands crept upward.

“Hey, watch yourself. I have a knife.” Mary Jo’s legs went weak as Chris continued her nuzzling. “Do you want dinner or not?” But she already knew the answer.

Chris’s hands slid to her breasts.

Mary Jo gave in and put the knife down. Turning in Chris’s arms, she whispered, “You’re dangerous, Martel,” as she unbuttoned Chris’s flannel shirt.

“Not here.” Chris grasped Mary Jo’s hand and led her to the living room. She took a down comforter off the back of the love seat, spread it on the floor in front of the fireplace, and turned to Mary Jo.

When Mary Jo started to remove her sweater, Chris whispered, “No, let me.”

Mary Jo lost herself as Chris slowly and agonizingly removed her clothes. Her skin on fire, she stood naked, rooted to the spot by Chris’s lust-darkened gaze.

Chris bent her head and kissed a line from Mary Jo’s temple, across her jaw, down her neck, and to the soft skin between her breasts.

A shiver ran through Mary Jo. She realized the panting she heard was her own. A dull ache throbbed between her legs. Chris bent lower to take a nipple in her mouth and softly caressed the other breast with her hand. She couldn’t contain her moaning as Chris suckled, then raked teeth across her hard nipple. Transfixed, she watched Chris kiss down to her belly button, kneel in front of her, and reach up to stroke her aching breasts.

“Chris, touch me. Please.” Mary Jo’s legs felt like jelly. Wetness welled up and trickled down the inside of her thigh.

Chris made her wait a few more seconds. She reached around Mary Jo, slowly pulled her hips forward, and supported her against broad shoulders. She leaned in and nuzzled the soft curls at the juncture of her thighs.

Mary Jo ran her fingers over the top of Chris’s head, then to the back of her neck, and pulled that hungry mouth toward her center. “Martel, if you don’t touch me now, I may very well hurt you,” she said with a groan.

Chris sighed against Mary Jo’s thigh, her tongue teasingly traveling upwards before she slid a hand between their bodies and slipped her fingers deep inside Mary Jo.

Mary Jo moaned and rocked her hips. Her body trembled, and all her senses focused on the need for release. Her vision blurred. She grew dizzy as her breath came in huge gasps. Chris’s fingers moved inside her, driving her to the edge.

Chris slowly sucked Mary Jo’s clit into her mouth, her tongue stroking and flicking.

“Yes! Oh God, babe.” Mary Jo closed her eyes and flung her head back. All control over her body lost, she screamed as her orgasm bore down on her. She couldn’t hold it a second longer. Sensations flowed, one into another: hot, throbbing, exploding. Her hips jerked. As the waves of her climax subsided, her legs threatened to collapse.

Chris carefully pulled her fingers out. She stood up in Mary Jo’s arms and held her tightly. “You are so beautiful, Cav, so beautiful,” she whispered against her lips.

Mary Jo opened her eyes as her racing heart slowly returned to normal. “Oh, my God, what you do to me.” She curled her hand around Chris’s head and pulled her lips harder against hers, deepening their kiss.

Shifting to grasp Chris’s shoulders, Mary Jo pushed the unbuttoned shirt down her arms, where it slipped to the floor. While still kissing Chris, she fumbled with her jeans, just managing to open the buttons and push them down her hips.

In no hurry, she took a step back and feasted on the sight of Chris naked. Shadows and firelight danced and shimmered over her smooth skin.

Mary Jo’s gaze travelled the length of her beautiful body. She smiled inwardly at Chris’s sharp intake of breath, then she seductively licked her lips.

Mary Jo eased behind Chris and kissed her neck. Her hands glided softly over Chris’s shoulders, down her back, over her hips, and around her ass, and slid a teasing touch into the wetness between her legs.

She continued to circle Chris, keeping her caresses feather light on her hot skin, until she returned to stand in front of her. She smiled devilishly as she circled Chris a second time and rubbed her breasts against Chris’s body.

Eventually, her touches became more urgent. She noted the wild pulsing in Chris’s neck. She leaned in, kissed Chris’s throat, and then nipped her as she ran her hands over Chris’s shoulders and down her arms.

Clasping their hands together, Mary Jo guided Chris down to the comforter on the floor and suddenly realized a bump in the comforter was bouncing around.

Chris sat up and allowed Sadie to escape from underneath the comforter. The little dog glanced at them with a comical look of disdain and moved to her own bed, obviously put out. Mary Jo dismissed Sadie. She kept her attention centered on Chris, the woman she was making love to.

The only sound in the room came from the wood popping and crackling in the fireplace. Mary Jo felt lightheaded. Her breasts rose and fell in time with Chris’s quick, panting breaths. She straddled Chris’s waist and her wetness coated Chris’s stomach.

“God, yeah,” Chris moaned when Mary Jo bent over to take a nipple into her mouth, pinching the nipple on her other breast.

Mary Jo released Chris’s breast and eased herself backward. She urged Chris’s legs apart with her knee.

She kissed Chris’s stomach and moved down to lie between her legs. Nuzzling the tanned skin, she relished the taste and smell of female musk and patchouli as she moved lower still. Chris’s hips jerked. Mary Jo held tight to Chris’s legs and settled her lips and tongue over Chris’s swollen clit.

“Oh, God,” Chris said, panting. Her hands reached out frantically to clutch handfuls of comforter. “Oh, yeah, you feel so good.” She pushed against Mary Jo’s mouth.

As soon as Chris began her orgasm, Mary Jo plunged her fingers through the wetness. She filled her up, moving in and out and loving the primal sounds that escaped from Chris as she came. The orgasm raged on, and suddenly Chris collapsed, weak and trembling. Tears ran from beneath her closed eyelids.

Mary Jo carefully crept up to lie on top of Chris, her fingers still inside. She lovingly kissed away the tears and kissed Chris on the lips. “Are you okay, babe?”

Chris nodded, her eyes still closed as she returned the kiss.

Mary Jo gently moved her fingers. Chris reached down to press the stroking fingers deeper inside. Moaning in pleasure at her lover’s delight, Mary Jo began moving her fingers in and out, thrusting harder and harder.

Chris met each thrust with her hips and cried out as another orgasm rocked her body. She finally collapsed, exhausted and breathing deeply.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Mary Jo asked.

“Oh yeah.” Chris opened her eyes and looked directly at Mary Jo. “For now.”

Mary Jo drew imaginary circles on Chris’s stomach. “Are you saying there’s more where that came from?”

Chris lifted her head and smiled. “Oh yeah.”

“Then I guess we’d better get to it.” Mary Jo’s raging desire had tempered, but she wanted a lot more of Chris.

Chapter 20

Mary Jo barely heard her alarm at six o’clock the next morning. She dawdled in bed, smiling as she recalled her evening with Chris.

After a quick dinner, she and Chris had been unable to keep their hands off each other. They had lain on the comforter in front of the fire until well after midnight, talking a little and making love a lot. Chris tried to convince her to stay the night, and as much as she had wanted to, she knew they wouldn’t have gotten any sleep. It was Doc’s day off, and she figured her work schedule would be busy.

With great reluctance, she pried herself from Chris’s arms and drove home to a cold bed. Five hours of sleep was much less than her body needed, but she was sated, and that would have to be enough to keep her going through the day.

She flung back the bedcovers and shuffled to the shower.

Shortly thereafter, when she pulled into the clinic driveway, she was still tired and sore but very happy. She forced herself to push thoughts of Chris and their lovemaking to the back of her mind and focus on her work. Daydreaming on the way to work had already made her almost miss a couple of turns.

“Come on, MJ, get your head together,” she muttered.

After turning off the ignition, she sat in the truck a moment and rubbed her tired eyes. During her shower that morning, she’d regretfully washed off Chris’s scent and wished she could let the smell of sex linger. But she had to go to work, and she decided clients didn’t need to know what she had spent the night enjoying.

The clinic was quiet when she walked through the door. Thankfully, the coffeepot was full. She hung up her coat, poured herself a hot cup, and went back to the surgical area. Donna was pulling sterilized instrument trays from the autoclave.

“Good morning.” Mary Jo sat down on the surgery table and yawned.

“Oh, hi, MJ. I’m sorry I didn’t hear you come in.” Donna closed the wrapped tray with tape.

“That’s all right, I just was wondering where you were. It’s so quiet in here.”

“I know. The phone hasn’t started to ring yet.” Donna turned around as Mary Jo was staring into space. “Did you get called out last night?”

“Huh? Oh, uh… no, I… uh, just didn’t get to bed till late.” Mary Jo glanced up and smiled guiltily. “Wrong thing to do on a school night, I guess.” She failed in her attempt to stifle another yawn.

“How’s Chris?”

Mary Jo tried her best to act nonchalant. Was she really that transparent? “Chris? Oh, good, I guess. Her bruises are all gone, and she’s feeling much better.” Unbidden, her memory conjured up the feeling of Chris’s skin against hers. The delicious recollection left her oblivious until, at the very edge of her consciousness, she heard Donna chuckling. That broke the spell and left her very embarrassed about where her thoughts had been.

“You’ve fallen hard for her, haven’t you?” Donna asked.

“Am I that easy to read?”

“No, not usually. But lately, you’ve been walking around with that dreamy look in your eyes. It wasn’t hard to figure out.”

“I’m sorry.” Mary Jo felt a little guilty about her mind being elsewhere instead of focused on the job.

Donna pulled her into a hug, then held onto her shoulders and gave her a little shake. “Honey, don’t ever say you’re sorry for falling in love. I’m happy for you both.”

“Thanks, that means a lot. I’ll try to keep my head on straight while I’m at work.”

Donna raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Yeah, I mean, you know. Out of my ass, anyway.” Mary Jo yawned again.

The phone rang, breaking the quiet. Donna hurried into the office area to answer it. Mary Jo followed, leaned against the doorway, and listened to the one-sided conversation.

Donna turned to Mary Jo as she hung up the phone. “You need to get to the Bennetts’. A yearling tried to jump the fence and impaled herself on a stake. They’ve administered a tranquilizer to try and keep her quiet until you get there.”

Galvanized, Mary Jo put down her coffee cup, donned her coat, and ran out the door to her truck. She’d been to the Bennetts’ farm the previous week for a different emergency. If another emergency had to happen at all, she was glad this one occurred during the day.

Joyce Bennett raised Arabian horses and, at last count, had seventy-five on the farm. About a third of them were under the age of three. Arabs were among the most curious by nature, and that trait often tended to get them into trouble.

While on the road, Mary Jo considered Joyce, the twenty-five-year-old daughter of Bryce and Carol Bennett. Although Bryce and Carol owned the farm, they weren’t much involved with the horses. They lived in a sprawling log home with a disgusting amount of space, but Joyce stayed in the tiny cottage behind the barn.

Mary Jo had long suspected Joyce was a lesbian. Every time she’d gone to the Bennetts’ farm, she found a different woman in Joyce’s company, hanging on every word Joyce said, if not literally clinging to her.

Forty minutes later, Mary Jo skidded the truck to a stop in front of the Bennetts’ barn. She rushed to the back, opened a door on the vet box, and collected supplies in her bag. She had just turned toward the barn when Bryce came roaring over on his souped-up golf cart.

“Hi, Doc. Get in,” he said. “I’m supposed to hurry you over. Joyce said it’s not good.”

Mary Jo jumped into the cart. This could be really ugly, really quickly. Impalements by any horse were often unpredictable and could be potentially fatal. Details of horse anatomy raced through her mind. She had no idea of the severity of the injury, and neither Donna nor Bryce had elaborated on it. Bryce was especially fond of the foals born on his farm. She hoped for his sake she could ensure a bright outcome.

Bryce stomped on the accelerator, pushing Mary Jo back against her seat as the golf cart took off.

The doors to the three-hundred-foot-long Morton building were wide open. Without hesitation, Bryce sent the cart racing down the aisle to the back. The horses were oblivious to the golf cart as it sped by, many not even bothering to look up from their hay.

Joyce met them at the far end, her short blonde hair disheveled and her eyes filled with worry. “She’s just outside the door here. I gave her some Ace to try and calm her down some.” Another woman stood next to her.

Out of the golf cart, Mary Jo rounded the corner and saw a small black Arab standing over a metal stake. The horse was supported by a tall skinny man, presumably the stable hand. The Arab’s big doe eyes were rolling in fright, her coat marked with white, frothy sweat and specks of blood, but the tranquilizer kept her from fighting the impalement.

“How much did you give her?” Mary Jo asked.

“About a half c.c.,” Joyce said. “I didn’t want to give her so much that she fell down.”

“Good thought.” Mary Jo put her bag down and gathered and tied her hair into a ponytail. She walked with practiced ease to the little horse, talking quietly, trying to soothe her. It was a lesson she’d learned during her studies and a habit exercised constantly by Chris. No matter what the situation, stay calm, talk quietly, and the horse will eventually respond.

Mary Jo conducted a quick examination of the wound. “Okay, I think we’re in luck here. It looks like the stake entered into the muscle between her front legs and extends through, just under the skin, out from her girth. We’re going to need some help though.” She glanced around. Besides herself and Joyce, the only ones standing nearby were Bryce, the stable hand, and Joyce’s current girl-toy. “We need to cut the stake.”

Joyce turned to the stable hand. “Harold, go get the Sawzall.”

“Yes, Miss Joyce,” he said and ran to the shop. Barely two minutes passed before he returned with the tool.

Mary Jo explained her plan to free the filly. “I want to give her more of the tranquilizer to knock her out. As she goes down, I need a person on each end of her to support her and hold the stake in place. Harold, I’ll tell you when to cut the stake.” When he nodded, she continued, “After it’s cut, you’re going to lower her to the ground.” She looked at Joyce’s friend. “Can you hold the stake in place as she goes down?”

The young woman nodded, her eyes were wide with fright. Obviously, she wasn’t a horse person.

Mary Jo injected the tranquilizer into the horse’s jugular. Almost immediately, the filly started to go limp. “Okay, hold onto her,” she said. “Harold, go ahead and cut.”

Harold bent over and started to cut the stake with the Sawzall. After a few seconds of loud buzzing and flying sparks, the stake was in two pieces.

“Okay, everybody, gently lay her down,” Mary Jo said.

Working together, all of them maneuvered the filly so she lay flat on her side without further damage.

“Joyce, kneel on her neck. Now I can see what I’m dealing with here.” Mary Jo lifted the filly’s front leg and palpated the muscles and tissues beneath. She glanced at the woman supporting the stake. “Can you hold her leg up like this?” She nodded in approval as the woman, her hands shaking, held the leg level with the filly’s body. “You’re doing fine. Thank you.”

She reached for her bag. “Can I get a bucket of warm water?” she asked Harold. The requested bucket appeared quickly. She squirted a generous amount of Betadine into the water and added a huge wad of cotton. She prepared a syringe with local anesthetic and injected it in several places around the wounds, including her proposed incision site.

“You’re going to cut it out?” Joyce’s voice was laced with concern.

“If I pull it out, we risk damaging the tissues more and introducing more bacteria into the wounds. The stake is lying just under the skin in most places. The worst part is in the muscle between her legs. I’m going to put a drain in that area once I remove the stake.”

Once Joyce nodded her consent, Mary Jo donned sterile gloves. After scrubbing the surgical site with Betadine, she made her incision and followed the path of the stake with her scalpel. When the entire length of the embedded stake became visible, she carefully removed it, alert for any sudden bleeding. Seeing none, and deciding she didn’t need to perform an internal repair, she cleaned the wound, inserted a drain, and sewed up the incision.

Thirty minutes later, Mary Jo was satisfied she’d done well. “This looked a lot worse than it was,” she said. “I’m going to put her on a strong course of antibiotics. We’ll leave this drain in for about a week. You’ll definitely want to keep her in a stall and reduce her grain to keep her quiet.”

The filly uttered small pathetic nickers. Her eyes began to focus, and she became more aware of her surroundings. The young horse tucked her feet under her, and Mary Jo assisted in helping her to her feet. While Harold and Joyce guided the filly to a stall, she packed up her tools.

“That was awesome, what you did.”

Mary Jo looked up, surprised to find she wasn’t alone. The woman she thought of as Joyce’s toy stood there. “Thanks. It could have been much worse, but she lucked out.”

She stood and was able to get a good look at the woman for the first time. Her spiked blonde hair made her green eyes more striking. She was about Joyce’s height and skinny.

“My name is Jill, by the way.” She extended her hand.

Mary Jo took it. “Mary Jo Cavanaugh. Nice to meet you. And thanks for your help.” She loosened her hand, but Jill wasn’t letting go. She pulled her hand out of the snug grasp. Turning her attention to her bag, she wondered if the woman was putting the moves on her.

She looked up with the intention of following Joyce into the barn when Jill spoke again. “Hey, I was wondering if you’d like to get together sometime, maybe for coffee or something?”

“Um, actually, I’m seeing somebody. But thanks for the offer.” Mary Jo barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“Oh, that’s right. You’re the one who’s with Chris Martel.”

Mary Jo stopped dead in her tracks, trying to decide whether to comment as she turned to face Jill. The woman’s snarky tone of voice made her a bit suspicious as well as wary. “As if it’s any of your business,” she replied curtly.

“Well, I’ve just heard some things. My cousin from Rochester just broke up with Chris Martel. She was with her for a while and doesn’t have too many nice things to say about her.”

Her face flushing hot, Mary Jo couldn’t believe Jill’s audacity. “Did you stop to think that maybe your cousin just wasn’t her type?” Not waiting for a reply, she stormed into the barn and down the aisle to where Joyce and Bryce stood. Feeling angry and confused, she walked in brisk strides and tried to regain her composure. Chris had never mentioned being with anybody, let alone having just broken up with a girlfriend.

Mary Jo forced a smile when she reached the stall housing the now fully conscious filly. “She looks more comfortable. Joyce, follow me out to the truck, and I’ll give you a bottle of sulfa antibiotics,” she said. “Bryce, it was good to see you again.”

“Same here, Doc. Thanks for your help.” Bryce’s attention returned to the filly.

Mary Jo paused briefly to watch the young horse drink some water, and then she went out of the barn with Joyce.

She was lost in thought as she walked with Joyce. She felt sure Chris would’ve told her if she’d been seeing somebody else. Wouldn’t she? Was Chris with this “cousin” when they first got together? What in the hell was going on?

The thoughts tormented her even as she handed Joyce the drugs. After explaining the dosage, she got into her truck and drove to the clinic. The uncertainty continued later as she returned to her own apartment instead of Went Farm to see Chris.

Mary Jo didn’t know what to do. Should she confront Chris with what she knew? But then again, did she actually know anything? Jill could have been throwing her a line to try to make her own proposition more tempting.

Confused, sad, angry, and more importantly, alone, Mary Jo sat in her truck awhile. “Am I paranoid?” she asked herself. “Maybe insecure because my relationship with Chris is so new?” She received no answers from the truck, only ticking sounds as the engine cooled. She rubbed her face in frustration, got out, and went to her apartment.

Hell, she didn’t even know what she could say to Chris without sounding like a jealous, raging bitch. But she was a bit jealous, wasn’t she? In truth, she didn’t know much about Chris’s past, other than what she had revealed about her dysfunctional family. She knew Chris was an intensely private person. She hadn’t told Mary Jo much about herself, or about being a lesbian, or any past relationships.

Mary Jo paced back and forth from the kitchen to the bedroom. She was working herself up to a full-blown anxiety attack. She wanted to drown herself in a bottle of wine. Wine always made her feel better—a little fuzzier, but better. Unfortunately, it was her day to take calls for the clinic.

No, she decided, the real problem was that she wanted to talk to Chris. “Oh, for God’s sake, MJ, get a grip,” she muttered. But she needed answers.

She recalled the previous night and the emotion she’d felt pouring out of Chris. Yeah, well, okay, and the raw sex, too. Chris had opened herself up completely, willing to do anything and everything Mary Jo wanted.

Her skin tingled with the recollection of Chris’s hands and lips caressing her body. She ceased her pacing and felt a familiar ache when thoughts of Chris passed through her mind. Should it matter if Chris had been with someone else?

Feeling like a hypocrite, Mary Jo decided it didn’t and shouldn’t. She’d managed to etch Chris deep into her heart, and that’s where she wanted her to stay. She only hoped Chris felt the same and would tell her the truth. “If I can get my nerve up to ask her, that is,” she whispered.

She needed to see Chris. They had to talk, but more than that, she wanted—or rather, needed—to be in those strong arms, to get lost in those blue eyes.

Mary Jo looked for her keys, finding them still in her hand. Consumed by her thoughts, she hadn’t put them down or taken her coat off. There was only one way to resolve her uncertainty. She strode out of the apartment. She would get the answers she needed from Chris.

*   *   *

When Chris opened her eyes in the morning, she smiled as she stretched her tired and sore muscles. The dogs jumped off the bed when she began to stir and waited for her impatiently, pacing back and forth. Cedar carried a gutted stuffy toy in her mouth and snorted incessantly as she prowled about the room with the other two dogs.

Chris knew further sleep would be impossible.

Nevertheless, she stayed in bed a few more minutes and thought about the previous evening. She had tried to convince Mary Jo to spend the night in her bed, but Mary Jo had to work the next day, so regrettably, she’d woken up alone.

Chris had never shared her bed with anyone except the dogs. For the first time, she wanted to wake up with someone in her arms, to the feel of soft skin against hers, her legs tangled with her lover’s. That someone was Dr. Mary Jo Cavanaugh.

She squelched the surge of desire that threatened to make her take matters into her own hands. Sliding out from under the covers, she attracted Sadie, who jumped up, stood on her chest, and flicked a tongue over her nose.

“Good morning to you, little one.” Chris tried to avoid the terrier’s sloppy wet kisses. Sadie hopped off when Chris started to rise. She threw her legs over the edge of the bed and rubbed sleep from her eyes.

Cedar and Cagney sat in front of her, their eyes alert, their tails wagging.

“All right, all right, I’m getting up,” Chris said through a yawn. When she stood up, she felt an unfamiliar soreness between her legs. A grin lifted the corners of her mouth as she wondered if Mary Jo had the same problem.

She shuffled into the bathroom to pee and brush her teeth. She decided to take a quick shower before chores and turned the water to hot. While she waited for the water to heat up, she caught sight of herself in the mirror above the sink.

Apart from her disheveled hair, she sported dark circles under her eyes, though her shiner had almost healed. She had a few yellowish tinges on her cheek, but the remnants of bruises would soon disappear. Her ribs, still a tad sore, didn’t hinder her.

Steam rose above the shower stall and signaled the arrival of hot water to the second floor. Chris stepped in and let the water hit her in the face and rush down the length of her body. At once, she felt refreshed and more awake. She scrubbed and washed her hair then turned the water off and toweled herself dry. After finger-combing her damp hair, she got dressed.

She let the dogs out and tossed wood on the glowing embers in the fireplace. The comforter remained on the floor where she and Mary Jo had lain on it the night before. She picked it up, folded it haphazardly, and tossed it on the back of the loveseat.

The small waft of air displaced by the comforter brought Mary Jo’s scent to her. With it came the memory of the uninhibited things they’d done to each other the night before. The emotional response Mary Jo wrung from her, in combination with the physical arousal, had opened her eyes to the true meaning of making love. Never before had she felt so protected, so needed by someone.

She remembered the feeling of complete contentment. Late in the evening, all but asleep, lulled by the sound of the heartbeat beneath her cheek and the warm strength of Mary Jo’s arm across her back, Chris knew she’d found her soul mate.

She strode into the pantry and dished out the dogs’ food just before she heard a telltale scratch at the door. When she let the girls in, she noticed snowflakes melting on their fur. It was still too dark outside to tell how hard it was snowing, but the wind wasn’t blowing, which she took as a good sign.

The weather could be weird in the hills surrounding Bristol, she mused. There could be a blizzard raging in one valley, and the next could be perfectly sunny. Her farm usually had a white Christmas, but the villages just north of her, lower in elevation, had a fifty-fifty chance of being so lucky.

While the dogs wolfed down their breakfast, she made a quick cup of coffee. She grabbed a granola bar, shoved it in her mouth, and chewed as she pulled on her boots and coat.

“You guys ready yet?” she asked the dogs and opened the door.

Having swallowed every morsel of food, the dogs ran outside. Large flakes of snow tickled Chris’s face as she stepped off the porch. More snowflakes drifted aimlessly through the air. There was barely a coating on the ground, but the white powder made the path to the barn a little easier for her to see.

The dogs met her at the barn, clearly having done their usual business in the adjoining field. When she opened the door, warm horse- and hay-scented air wafted against her face. She heard the usual impatient nickers and stamping of hooves. She flipped on the high aisle lights so the horses’ eyes could grow accustomed to the illumination before she turned on the more powerful fluorescents.

“Good morning, everybody,” Chris called as she walked down the aisle to the feed room. She pulled out the grain cart and made her way to each horse’s stall.

She finished her morning chores by noon. She had locked all the horses in the barn the previous night because the north wind had picked up, creating a bitter chill. That meant additional stall cleaning, but she didn’t mind.

She looked out the doorway of the stall she was cleaning and saw the snow had stopped falling. Clouds were beginning to break up and streaks of purple and black lined the horizon. Soon, the sun would make short work of the newly fallen snow.

Chris hadn’t heard from Mary Jo yet, but she didn’t think it odd. Since it was Doc’s day off, she was probably busy.

Mary Jo had told Chris last night that although the clinic got fewer calls during this time of year, the travel times increased because there were few planned routes between the farms. Frequently, Mary Jo would be on her way back to the clinic when another call came in and she had to retrace her path.

Chris finished hauling manure to the pile outside the barn. “Time for a coffee break, that’s what I think,” she said to herself. She signaled the dogs to follow and went into the office.

She checked the answering machine for messages, glad to find none. The cell phone she’d tossed on the desk earlier also showed no missed calls.

She made herself a cup of coffee as the dogs turned circles on their beds and settled in for a nap. The sunlight coming through the windows made the room even more enticing for the sleepy dogs, she supposed. She closed the door to keep the office warm. During the winter, the dogs spent more time in the office than following her around. As far as she knew, nobody disliked the arrangement.

Before Chris exited the office, she looked out the window and saw that the sun was out in full force, snow clouds nowhere in sight. She decided to go outside to take advantage of the slightly increased temperature and headed toward the south side of the barn.

She slid the big door open enough to be able to lean her shoulder against the wall and stood with the sun warming her face, her legs crossed, and the coffee mug cuddled against her chest. A flock of white-throated sparrows serenaded her with their Old Sam Peabody, Peabody, Peabody, song from the low brush behind the barn. Feeling warmer in the bright sunshine, she unzipped her coat.

After a cold night, all the horses dozed outside in the sunlight; their eyelids drooped to half-mast, and their back legs were cocked in the familiar resting position. The wind had diminished during the night, so it seemed warmer than the thirty-two-degree reading on the thermometer. Chris closed her eyes and fell into a doze herself.

“I see you sleep on your feet, just like your horses,” a familiar voice said, and arms wrapped around Chris’s waist from behind.

Startled, Chris jerked and spilled coffee on her hand. “Ow. Shit!” She flicked her hand of the burning liquid and wiped the wetness on her jeans.

Mary Jo chuckled. “Oops, sorry.”

Chris turned in Mary Jo’s arms and gazed at her with affection. “That’s okay. I’ll bear any pain for this.” She leaned in and kissed Mary Jo, her tongue exploring the parted lips that greeted hers.

Mary Jo broke off the kiss and leaned back in Chris’s embrace. “Do you do that to everybody who sneaks up on you?”

“You seem to be the only one the dogs will let by without a fuss.”

“Oh yeah, I see how reliable they are. I saw them snoozing on their beds when I came in.” Mary Jo’s expression turned serious. “Chris, you spend so much time alone. What if something happened and you couldn’t get to the phone?”

“Don’t worry. Got it covered. Bill insisted on having a silent alarm installed. There are trigger buttons mounted in the house, outside the ring, and two feet off the ground in the office.” Seeing Mary Jo’s confusion, Chris said, “Cedar is trained to push any of those buttons if I say the trigger word or get knocked unconscious and she can’t rouse me. It alerts the security company, and they send police, ambulance, fire department, the Army, Navy, and Marines. You name it.”

“Trigger word?”

“Yeah, it’s a special word she never hears unless it’s an emergency.”

“That’s high tech. Are you going to tell me what it is?”

“Well, I would but…” Chris trailed off.

“Then you’d have to kill me,” Mary Jo concluded, laughing.

Chris joined her, giggling and holding her close.

“Seriously Chris,” Mary Jo said, “I spend a lot of time over here. Maybe I should know it.”

“Rawhide.”

“What’s rawhide?”

“The trigger word. We use ‘rawhide’ because I never give the dogs any, so they would never hear it any other time.”

“That’s pretty smart. Pretty damned smart.” Mary Jo hesitated. “Chris?”

When she detected a note of hesitation in Mary Jo’s voice, Chris pulled back and looked into her brown eyes. “What’s the matter?”

“Um, I just need to ask you something.”

“Okay.”

“It’s about… well, I don’t know why, but I need to know something.”

Chris raised an eyebrow and dropped her arms from Mary Jo’s waist. “Cav, what’s this about?”

“Nothing. Never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything.” Mary Jo reached for Chris, who took a step backwards.

“Is something wrong? You can ask me anything, anything at all, and I’ll answer as honestly as I can.”

“Jesus, why is this so hard? It’s just a simple question. Okay. Well, I was just curious, and now I’m almost embarrassed to ask about what’s been bothering me all morning.” Mary Jo took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “While we’ve been, you know, getting to know each other… were you, um, seeing anybody else?”

Chris cocked her head to one side and crossed her arms over her chest. “No. Why do you ask?” She stiffened involuntarily and felt her good mood evaporate.

“Please don’t take offense. I’m sorry, Chris. It’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have even asked.”

Chris relaxed. She reached out to caress Mary Jo’s cheek and let her fingers slide along Mary Jo’s jaw. She met her gaze and said, “Babe, I’ve never been with anybody else. You’re the only woman who’s ever captured my heart.” She fidgeted shyly. “Um, I’ve had sex with other women, but I never made love until I met you.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Mary Jo seemed shocked.

Chris shook her head and looked at her feet. She felt the deep heat of a blush creep up her neck.

“Oh, come on, I figured there were women taking numbers at your door,” Mary Jo joked. “You’re awfully cute when you play all shy and apprehensive, you know that? Don’t be embarrassed. I like that I’m your first. And sweetheart, you sure couldn’t tell by me that I was your first.” Mary Jo teasingly ran a finger between Chris’s breasts. “And I don’t care. Really. It was dumb of me to ask. Somebody just said something to me today, and her tone bothered me.”

“What? Who?” Chris had told very few people in the area that she was a lesbian, although she would have answered truthfully if someone happened to ask. She just preferred to keep it to herself, not being one of those chest-thumping, “I’m a lesbian, what are you going to do about it” types. She disclosed her sexuality only to people she could trust not to make an issue of it.

The anonymity at the bar in Rochester had suited her just fine. Aside from Angie, nobody knew her name, where she lived, or what she did for a living. It had been a safe environment for her to explore her sexuality. At least it had been until Sky went on her recent rampage. Not that it mattered. She didn’t see herself ever going up there again, especially now that she had Mary Jo in her life.

Mary Jo explained what had transpired at the Bennetts’ farm. “She only introduced herself as Jill. I can’t tell you any more than that.”

“Huh. I wonder how she knows about me.” Chris furrowed her brow.

“It doesn’t matter. I just came over so you could hold me in these strong arms of yours.” Mary Jo moved to embrace Chris and pressed close. “I love it when you hold me.”

Chris kissed her cheek and whispered, “Yeah, I love it, too.” Moving her lips to Mary Jo’s, she asked, “Are you done for the day?”

“Don’t I wish.” With a moan, Mary Jo grabbed Chris’s hands, which had wandered to her breasts. “Nope, don’t, please. Later. I promise. God, you’re dangerous, Martel. It amazes me how a touch from you can set my skin on fire, no matter how many layers of clothing I have on.”

“Spend the night with me?” Chris’s voice had gone husky with thoughts of what would happen in the bedroom.

“I would love nothing more. Now walk out with me. I’ll bring a pizza with me so I don’t have to slave over a hot stove all night.” Mary Jo gave Chris a devilish grin. “I’ve got a hot woman who needs all my attention tonight.”

Chris playfully slapped Mary Jo’s butt. As they walked side by side, she put her arm around her waist. “You got that right.”

She escorted Mary Jo to her truck and gave her a tender good-bye kiss.

A long time after the vehicle disappeared, Chris stood in the drive, considering. Mary Jo’s story had tickled her worry bone a bit, but she decided not to let it bother her. She had better things to do… like change the sheets on her bed.

Chapter 21

Just as Mary Jo went to knock, Chris opened the door wearing a white T-shirt and blue-striped boxer shorts. A wave of heat came rushing out of the house, and the three dogs ran to greet her. She absently petted them and stared at Chris standing in the doorway. She’d never seen anyone so sexy in her life.

“Oh my,” she murmured, mesmerized as the cold air caused Chris’s nipples to perk up and push against the tight T-shirt material. “Oh my.”

“Are you coming in? Or are you going to stand outside gawking all night?” Chris’s voice was low and sultry as she opened the door a bit wider for the dogs to escort Mary Jo inside. “I’ve been waiting for you all day.”

Mary Jo forced her feet to move. Her gaze was still plastered on the obvious swell of Chris’s breasts under her shirt. She blindly held out the pizza box as she took in the entire length of her toned body.

“Oh my, my, my.” Mary Jo pulled her coat from her shoulders. Chris leaned in and brushed her lips with a kiss.

Mary Jo let her coat drop to the floor and pulled Chris into a tight embrace. Her lips met Chris’s again, and a wave of hot desire rose through her body. Against Chris’s mouth, she whispered, “Hmmm, to think I wanted pizza for dinner.”

“Did I make you lose your appetite?”

“Oh no, no, no. You whet my appetite in a few places, Martel.”

Dinner forgotten, Mary Jo let Chris take her hand and pull her through the kitchen, depositing the pizza box on the counter as they walked by. Then Chris took her up the stairs to the bedroom.

Mary Jo barely noticed her surroundings as Chris guided her down a dark, carpeted hallway, past four closed doors. Her eyes widened when she took her first step into Chris’s bedroom. She had no idea what to expect from Chris’s private sanctuary, but she wasn’t prepared for the lack of paintings or photographs. It occurred to her that it must have been Bill’s influence she had noticed in pictures throughout the house, not Chris’s, but that influence didn’t seem to extend here.

A wave of sadness washed over her. In her apartment, family photos lavishly covered the walls, each one a reflection of a happy childhood spent with two devoted and loving parents. On the other hand, Chris’s bedroom reflected nothing of the past she’d left behind. She wondered if the absence of pictures might be Chris’s attempt to forget and keep bad dreams and memories at bay.

The glow from the fireplace painted the room with flickering gold. Lace curtains on the floor-to-ceiling windows had been pulled back to frame the bright, starlit night. Three large candles on the mantle filled the air with the scent of spruce. The king-sized bed to her right looked soft, and the covers were pulled back invitingly.

“You know how to set the mood,” Mary Jo said quietly.

Chris stood close and looked into her eyes. “I want to be with you, Cav. I’ve never felt this way about another woman. Sometimes it’s hard for me to… um, to show how I… what I… Shit. Why am I having such a difficult time here?”

Mary Jo put her finger to Chris’s lips. “Shhh.” She slipped her hands around Chris’s waist and kissed her. “I’ve never been with a woman I’ve wanted in so many ways.” She slowly slid her hands underneath Chris’s T-shirt, cupped her breasts, and teased her rapidly hardening nipples.

Chris shivered despite the heat as Mary Jo caressed her skin. She groaned and, pulling Mary Jo tightly against her, kissed her mouth and the soft skin of her throat. “I love the way you smell, good enough to eat,” she said.

Chris pulled Mary Jo’s shirt out of her jeans. Strong, callused hands traced the length of her back, then her stomach. She’d decided to forego the bra tonight, and now, her legs trembling, she gasped when Chris’s hands found their way to her breasts and her fingers grasped her nipples.

“I need to…” Mary Jo whispered. “I need to… God, I need you.”

Chris pulled her to the bed and sat on the edge. She unbuttoned Mary Jo’s flannel shirt and pushed it aside to reveal her breasts. As her mouth claimed a hard nipple, she fumbled with and finally opened Mary Jo’s jeans and shoved them down her hips.

“God, you’re beautiful.” Chris released the nipple to stroke Mary Jo’s inner thighs. “And hot, too.”

Mary Jo stepped out of her jeans, discarded her panties, and pushed Chris flat on the bed. She straddled Chris’s waist, pulled the T-shirt over her head, and paused a moment to admire her beauty. As she bent over to claim Chris’s lips, she welcomed the primal need throbbing painfully between her legs. She sat up and shed her flannel shirt in a single seductive motion, wanting to give her naked body to Chris.

Chris slid her hands beneath Mary Jo’s legs and drew her up to straddle her mouth. Her lips found the source of Mary Jo’s passion. She reached up to Mary Jo’s breasts and kneaded the swollen hard nipples.

“Oh, Jesus Christ.” Mary Jo arched her back and thrust her hips in time to Chris’s tongue. Her head grew light as every nerve ignited.

Chris’s fingers gently entered her. Mary Jo squeezed her internal muscles. The rest of her body trembled as her orgasm began and rapidly consumed her entire being.

Mary Jo tried to hold back, but she couldn’t. She exploded, spasms rippling within, then taking her over completely. Her hips jerked as Chris’s fingers stroked her inside, hot mouth pulling her clitoris in deeper. She cried out her release, again and again, before slumping down in Chris’s arms, panting, and trembling.

Chris held her close, caressing her sweat-damp skin and planting kisses along her temple. “Oh, babe, you are so beautiful.”

Mary Jo slid to the side and pulled Chris on top of her, enjoying the feel of her weight. Chris’s eyes were cloudy with desire, her body tight with urgency. The pulse in her neck pounded wildly. Mary Jo kissed it, and her hands wandered down Chris’s firm back muscles, as she felt the swell of soft breasts pressed against her own.

Well aware it might take only a slight touch to send Chris over the edge, Mary Jo also suspected that Chris would be incredibly wet, her clitoris throbbing with need, desperate for her touch. She deliciously anticipated meeting that need.

“Cav,” Chris cried, clearly demanding.

From the pocket of her discarded jeans, Mary Jo’s cell phone began to ring. Groaning in frustration, she said, “I’m so sorry, babe. I do need to get that.”

With a regretful sigh, she glanced around for the phone.

Chris prevented Mary Jo from leaving the bed by leaning over the side and retrieving the source of the interruption. She handed the phone to Mary Jo with a pained expression.

“It’s Doc.” Mary Jo flipped the phone open. “Hey, Doc, what’s up?… Oh wow. Okay… How far out are you?… Forty minutes? Okay, I’ll meet you at the clinic.” She let the phone drop to the floor when she hung up. “We’ve got a surgical colic coming in.” Meeting Chris’s gaze, she said quietly, “I don’t have to leave this minute, but soon.”

“Just touch me,” Chris pleaded.

Mary Jo slid out from under Chris to lie at her side. Her hand roamed over Chris’s breasts and came to rest just above the hot triangle between her legs. “Come for me, Chris.” She stroked through the wetness and rolled Chris’s clitoris between thumb and forefinger. “You’re so wet. I love the way you feel.”

Chris breathed out and shuddered as Mary Jo’s light touch caused her swollen clitoris to twitch, urgently seeking release.

“That’s it, baby, come for me. Come for me right now, Chris.”

“Oh, God, Cav, don’t… stop… don’t stop,” Chris choked out, burning as her orgasm rose, triggered by Mary Jo’s urgent fingers. The climax surged upwards to consume her entirely. Her hips drove upward. Mary Jo pushed her fingers inside, thrusting through the spasms. Still shuddering, Chris at last collapsed, panting and shivering. Her eyes closed, and she lay moaning as the last waves of pleasure swept through her body.

Mary Jo carefully pulled her fingers out. “I’m sorry I have to leave,” she said, leaning over to speak against Chris’s lips.

“Oh God, it’s not your fault.” Chris pressed her face against Mary Jo’s neck and tried to regain control of her body. “I guess this is what it’s like to have a vet for a girlfriend.” She raised herself up on an elbow and pulled Mary Jo to her for a kiss. “Will you come back tonight?” she asked after breaking it off.

“I don’t know. It depends on how the surgery goes.” Mary Jo got up and searched for her clothes. She sat on the bed to pull her pants on. Leaning over Chris, she kissed her. “I’ll try, but if it gets too late, I’ll probably just go home. I’ll see you at Frances’s house in the morning?”

“Yeah.” Chris tried unsuccessfully to hide the disappointment in her voice. “I’ve fantasized all day of waking up in the morning with you in my arms.”

“We can try again tomorrow,” Mary Jo assured her with a wicked grin,

Chris laughed. “Okay, I’ll hold you to that.” She got up and found her T-shirt. As she slipped it over her head, she noticed Mary Jo’s appraising stare. “Keep looking at me like that, and I promise you, Doctor Cavanaugh, you won’t be leaving anytime soon.”

Mary Jo let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry. I do have to go.” She took Chris’s hand and followed her downstairs. She let go, shoved her feet into her boots, and pulled on her coat. “Okay, babe, I’ll see you later.”

Chris pulled her into an embrace, kissed her softly, and lingered as long as she could. “I’m counting on it.” She broke the kiss and pressed her forehead against Mary Jo’s before she released her and watched her walk to the door.

Mary Jo paused in the doorway. “Don’t wait up for me,” she said, and then she was gone.

The house seemed incredibly empty to Chris when the door closed behind Mary Jo. “God, Martel, you have fallen hard,” she muttered. She shut off the light and trudged back to her empty bed.

Chapter 22

Frances was taking a pan of scones out of the oven when she heard a truck in the drive. She put the pan on the stove, took the oven mitts off, and walked to the window. She pushed the curtains aside so she could see. Not only was Chris’s truck there, but Mary Jo’s as well. As she watched, Chris got out of her truck and let all four dogs out. She closed the door and strode to the other truck where she pulled Mary Jo into her arms and kissed her.

“Finally,” Frances said with a huge grin. Her smile remained after she left the window to make another pot of coffee, and she continued grinning through breakfast.

Chris finally asked, “What is with you today, Frances? You look like a Cheshire cat.”

“Who, me?” Frances batted her eyelashes in mock innocence. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Chris stared at her with raised eyebrows and then glanced at Mary Jo who was sitting at the table with her gaze focused in her lap.

Frances noticed that Mary Jo was smiling as well.

“What?” Chris asked, “What am I missing here?”

“Oh, Chris, Frances knows.” Mary Jo put her hand on Chris’s thigh. “I saw the curtains move when I got out of my truck, and I figured Frances was peeking out when you kissed me.”

Chris stared blankly at Mary Jo, and then realization dawned on her face. Clearly surprised, she looked at Frances. “I… uh… oh,” she stuttered as her face turned red.

Frances laughed. “Oh, Chris, you have nothing to be embarrassed about.” She got up, moved to their side of the table, and stood between them. Bending down, she put her arms around both women and squeezed. “I am so happy for you. You’re each what the other needed.” She kissed the tops of their heads and returned to her seat. “I thought I was going to croak of old age before you two realized it, though.” She picked up her coffee cup and took a sip. “We have so much to be thankful for this Thanksgiving. Mary Jo, I hope you’ll be able to join Chris and me for dinner that day.”

Frances had celebrated every Thanksgiving and Christmas with Chris since Bill died. Chris normally arrived right after morning chores, and they spent the day baking pies, drinking wine, and cooking the turkey with all the fixings. They always made an abundance of food. The leftovers kept Chris going for a week after the holiday, Frances thought fondly.

“Can you?” Chris asked Mary Jo, her face beaming with hope.

Mary Jo squeezed Chris’s leg as she answered, “I would love to spend it with you two. Doc and I are going to share any emergencies that come up, but I hope there won’t be any.”

“Your parents won’t mind?” Frances topped off everyone’s coffee cup.

“No, it’s been years since we spent Thanksgiving together. They’re usually still traveling the countryside or heading to some place overseas. We do get to spend Christmas together, though.”

“I’m glad you’ll join us,” Frances said. “We’re going to have a wonderful dinner.”

“Please let me help,” Mary Jo insisted. “If I know Chris, she’ll be content to sit with a glass of wine in her hand and watch us cook.”

Frances laughed. “Yup, you do know her. It’ll be nice to have your help, thank you.”

“Go ahead and tease,” Chris said. “I just know I’m going to be spending Thanksgiving with the two most important people in my life.” Chris shoved another forkful of food into her mouth.

Her affectionate words made Frances’s heart glow.

*   *   *

For Chris, the days sped by at lightning speed. True to their words, Frances and Mary Jo complemented one another’s cooking and baking and delivered a huge, delicious meal at Thanksgiving. Chris spent several days feeling awkwardly full. After a week of leftovers, she finally swore off turkey until next year.

Fortunately there were no emergencies, so Mary Jo was able to spend the whole day at Frances’s house. She went home with Chris that night, and for the first time they woke up in each other’s arms the next morning, leaving Chris happy and satisfied.

On Christmas, Frances spent the entire day at Chris’s house.

Chris was aware that Frances missed her late husband Fred every single day, and his absence affected her more on Christmas than any other time. With that in mind, every year since his death, Chris made it a point to arrive at Frances’s farm early on Christmas morning, feed the horses, and load Daisy, Frances, and a bag of wrapped gifts into her truck, driving everyone back to her house.

While Chris tended to her own chores, Frances made breakfast, and they unwrapped presents while they ate.

This year, in the Christmas spirit, Chris decorated her house lavishly with lights, mistletoe, and candles. The loveseat was pushed aside to make room for a six-foot-tall Blue Spruce tree that she, Frances, and Mary Jo had spent the week before decorating with strings of popcorn, cranberries, pinecones, and other homemade ornaments. When it came time to take the decorations down, Chris would set the tree outside, ornaments and all, to give the birds a treat.

“It’s too bad Mary Jo couldn’t spend today with you,” Frances said over a cup of coffee.

It was two o’clock in the afternoon on Christmas day. A foot of snow had fallen overnight. Temperatures had plummeted into the twenties. Snow blown by an unrelenting north wind lined the windowpanes, and drifted against the doors.

Chris sat with Frances in front of a well-stoked fire, the tired dogs at their feet. Earlier, she had put on her snowshoes to take the dogs for a run around the pond. Having eaten the biscuits and other treats they’d found in their stockings, the dogs seemed quite content to nap inside after playing in the snow a couple of hours.

“I know,” Chris replied, shrugging. “But she doesn’t get to see her parents that often, so I can’t blame her.”

“When will she be back?”

“In a couple of days, I guess. She’s staying at their place in Honeoye and going to work from there.”

“I do hope she’s careful. That’s a long drive back and forth, especially in this weather and on all those paved cow paths.”

“Doc insisted she take her vet rig instead of her own truck. That thing weighs a ton and handles well in the snow. I think she’ll be okay.”

“Is she going to keep her apartment?”

Chris grinned and looked at Frances.

At times it was hard for Chris to talk. She had difficulty expressing herself clearly when it came to her feelings. She couldn’t seem to find the right words. But she was no longer uncomfortable answering Frances’s questions regarding her relationship with Mary Jo. If Frances wanted to know something, she just asked. What had surprised Chris was finding out that Mary Jo and Frances talked about the relationship more than she’d imagined.

She envied Mary Jo’s ease and her confidence in conversations about her own life as a lesbian—unfamiliar territory to Chris, whose tendency was to hold her cards close to her vest and deal with things privately. She purposely gave most people the impression that the protective walls she kept around her emotions were impenetrable. The impression helped disguise her insecurities around people in general.

“Her lease isn’t up until August. I guess we’ll see where things stand then.” Chris hoped she sounded more confident than she felt.

Matters had moved so fast between her and Mary Jo. She wondered if her feelings might not have blossomed, or even changed, if they’d taken it slower. Probably not, she admitted. The connection she felt with Mary Jo went further than sex, but damn… that woman could take her places!

Mary Jo stimulated her mind as well as her body, Chris thought, the missing link with Sky and the other women she knew from Angie’s Bar. Why did she have such a problem with commitment in the past? She could only assume her hesitation was due to a residual lack of trust.

Her pensiveness must have showed, because Frances cleared her throat to gain her attention. “Follow your heart, Chris,” she said. “It won’t ever let you down.”

“Hmm, someone else told me that.” Chris peered over the rim of her raised coffee cup. “I love you, you know.”

“I love you, too. Now tell me what Mary Jo gave you for Christmas.”

“I have no idea. She said she didn’t want to give it to me until she got back.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah, huh. That’s what I said. My present to her is hanging on the tree.”

“What? That envelope?”

Chris smiled. “Yeah. It’s the breeding certificate for Ruby’s foal.”

“You’re giving her Ruby’s foal?”

“Yeah.” Chris had racked her brain for weeks, trying to think of something special to get Mary Jo for Christmas. When it finally came to her, she almost couldn’t stand not telling Mary Jo right away, but she didn’t want to ruin the surprise.

“Oh, Chris, that’s so generous of you. She’s going to love it,” Frances said, her eyes sparkling merrily. “When are you going to tell her?”

“I guess when she gets home.” Chris missed Mary Jo a lot. She didn’t just miss her in the bedroom, though. She loved the way Mary Jo’s eyes flashed when she was excited, how she absently tucked her hair behind her ears, and how she poked the tip of her tongue out the side of her mouth when deep in thought. And the most endearing to her of all: how Mary Jo managed to make her laugh.

She’d spent so many years alone with only the dogs and horses to occupy her life. At the time it had seemed natural, but looking back, those days seemed empty to her. Without realizing it, she’d been a hollowed-out woman stumbling along without purpose. She guessed she’d been waiting for Mary Jo all that time and just hadn’t known it.

Once again, Frances interrupted her brooding. “I can see how much you miss her. Mary Jo’s vibrancy, her energy, and her great sense of humor are treasures. But the biggest gift she has given me is putting that big spark of light in your eyes. For that, I’m eternally grateful.”

“She’s special, isn’t she?”

Frances’s expression gave her the answer.

Later that evening, after Chris drove Frances and Daisy home, she returned to her quiet house. Her dogs had stayed put, content to remain sleeping in front of the fire while she made the quick trip down the road and back.

She let the truck glide to a stop in front of the garage as she watched the snowflakes filling the night air. The wind had subsided, but not entirely, keeping the flakes airborne a bit longer as they headed downward to join the many that had already fallen.

Chris got out of her truck and listened to the night. The sound of the falling snow seemed like soft static in the air. Other than a horse’s muffled snort, the barn was quiet.

She lifted her face to let the snowflakes tickle her as they floated down. “Silent night, indeed,” she murmured.

Shoving her hands deep in her pockets to ward off the cold, Chris felt contentment blanket her. The only light from the house was the flickering glow of the fireplace, making the night seem even darker. The snow’s whiteness illuminated itself and little more. She couldn’t even make out the silhouette of the barn. She took a deep breath and welcomed fresh, cold air into her lungs.

Ten minutes later, the bitter cold drove her inside. The snow muted her movements as she walked to the house and up the porch steps. She took one more look behind her at the falling snow before she opened the door. The dogs met her as she came in, greeted her briefly, and returned to their beds by the fire.

Chris hung her long, fleece-lined Outback coat on the wall peg, traded her boots for moose-hide slippers, and went into the kitchen. She decided to try fighting off the threatening nostalgia with some wine.

She took her glass and a half empty bottle into the living room, plopped down on the couch, and poured a full portion. Sadie jumped up beside her, turned a few circles, lay down, and made herself comfortable. Chris stared into the fire, one hand holding her wineglass, the other absently stroking the little dog.

Before long, the wine was gone. She got up, threw a couple of logs on the fire, and contemplated going upstairs to bed. Reluctant to brave the cold sheets, she returned to the couch. She swung her legs up and pulled the comforter over herself and Sadie, who tucked in behind her knees.

Sleep came quickly, thanks in part to the wine, but mostly because she was bored. And lonely. And missing the woman who made her complete.

Chapter 23

Mary Jo had been enjoying Christmas at her parent’s house, but early that evening, she’d had to rush out to an emergency call: A horse pulling a sleigh full of people down an icy road had bolted. By the time the driver managed to stop him, the horse was lame and bloodied. Mary Jo spent a couple of hours diagnosing and treating the horse for a pulled muscle in his shoulder, along with several minor cuts on his legs that she’d stitched up.

Rather than make the long drive back from Cohocton to Honeoye on treacherous, snow-covered roads, she had turned her truck in the direction of Chris’s house. She called her parents on the way to describe her plan and promised to visit them again within the next few days.

When she let herself into Chris’s house, it was well past midnight. She figured Chris would be upstairs in bed, sound asleep. Quiet for once, Cedar and Cagney met her at the door, wagging their tails. She greeted them softly, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

Mary Jo smirked, feeling devilish as she tiptoed through the house and up the stairs. She couldn’t wait to see Chris’s face when she woke up to find her sleeping next to her in bed. Her gleeful musings disappeared abruptly when she saw the empty bed, the covers undisturbed.

“What the…? Where in the hell is she?” Mary Jo muttered, frowning as she stood in the doorway of Chris’s bedroom with her hands on her hips. She looked down at the two Labs who had followed her upstairs.

“Okay, what’d you girls do with your mom?” she asked. “A reindeer better not have run her over on the way back from the barn.” The dogs just wagged their tails faster.

Mary Jo decided to go back downstairs to look for clues. She was halfway down when she spotted an inert form on the couch and saw Sadie poke her head out from under the comforter.

She descended the remaining stairs. Within a few short moments, she was kneeling next to the couch where Chris lay sleeping. As she listened to Chris’s soft breathing, she carefully brushed a lock of hair off her brow. She never grew tired of looking at her. Her friend. Her lover.

The reflection of the fire on Chris’s smooth, attractive face accentuated a peace found only in sleep— that is, if bad dreams left her alone, Mary Jo thought.

She knew the façade Chris wore in public hid the true person beneath. The woman seen by the average person at any given time was the one she’d met earlier that summer. Better than anyone, except possibly Frances, she understood there was more to Chris Martel than the tough exterior she showed everyone else. Chris was passionate and caring, and liked to laugh. Mary Jo loved to see her throw her head back and laugh with abandon.

When Chris settled those sky blue eyes on her, Mary Jo felt like her lover could see right into her soul, and that she was the most important person in the world. When they made love, Chris’s caresses made her skin burn with passion and sent all her senses reeling. She had fallen head over heels in love with Chris, though to date she hadn’t said it. Other than her parents, she had never professed love to anyone.

She touched Chris’s cheek with the back of her hand. “I love you, Chris,” she whispered, leaning forward to tenderly brush her lips against Chris’s temple.

Chris’s eyes slowly opened, and a sleepy smile grew on her face as she became more awake. “Hey,” she said, her voice still rough with sleep. “What are you doing here? I thought you were staying with your parents.”

“Want me to leave?” Mary Jo started to get up.

Chris’s arm shot out from under the comforter. She grabbed Mary Jo’s sweater and pulled her close. “Nah, since you’re here, you might as well stay.” Chris leaned up on her elbow and gave Mary Jo an affectionate kiss. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, babe.” Mary Jo wiggled her eyebrows. “I don’t have to be in until ten o’clock tomorrow.”

“Oh, that’s a nice Christmas present.” Chris’s eyelids drooped.

“We’ll talk about presents tomorrow. Right now, I’m ready for bed. Are you going to join me upstairs, or stay in that tight little cocoon you’ve got going there?”

Chris yawned. “Bed sounds nice, especially with you to curl up next to.”

Mary Jo stood up, grabbed Chris’s arm, and pulled her to her feet. “Come on. You’re not allowed to fall asleep until we’re upstairs and I’ve got you wrapped in my arms.” Truthfully, she didn’t give a damn where they slept, as long as they were together. But why let a perfectly good bed go to waste?

*   *   *

The next morning, Chris painstakingly pulled herself from a tangle of arms and legs. Careful to not wake Mary Jo, she crept out of bed.

Mary Jo’s arm slid out of the covers and swiped back and forth, clearly searching for Chris without success. From the depths of her pillow, her muffled voice grumbled, “Where are you going at this ungodly hour?”

Chris pulled the covers back over Mary Jo. “I’m going out to feed the horses. Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when I come back in.”

Deep, even breathing signaled Mary Jo had already fallen asleep.

Chris went downstairs, let the dogs out, and made a pot of coffee. After the dogs returned and ate their breakfast, she pulled on her coat and led them out.

Her nose tingled when she inhaled the crystal cold air. The sun had not yet risen. Millions of stars flickered overhead, Venus accompanying a bright three-quarter moon. She paused to gaze at the sky before continuing down to the barn.

Morning was her favorite time of day. Everything started fresh. Although she repeated the same routine week in, week out, she never grew tired of it.

Chris fed the horses and doled out large portions of hay. She was nearly finished cleaning Top Hat’s stall when Mary Jo came into the barn. Looking up from sifting a fork full of bedding, she watched her sidle hesitantly toward the stall.

“Hey, why’d you get up?” she asked. “I’m almost finished here, and in a few minutes, I would have been in.”

“That’s okay. I wanted to spend some time with you before I had to go to the clinic.”

Chris evened the bedding out and came out of the stall. “Hattie’s due in two weeks.”

“Lovely. I hope she’s an easy foaler.” Mary Jo didn’t try to hide her sarcasm. She wasn’t sure her heart could take a repeat performance of the last disastrous encounter with Top Hat, especially if the high-strung mare was in the middle of giving birth.

“Knock on wood. She’s never had a problem with me. I have to move her to one of the foaling stalls in a few days.” Chris threw her manure fork in the wheelbarrow and pulled Mary Jo close. As they shared a kiss, she said, “Good morning,” against Mary Jo’s lips. “I could get used to these kisses before dawn.”

“Good morning, and me, too.” With a gleam in her eyes, Mary Jo suddenly asked, “Want your Christmas gift?”

“Of course.” Chris played at searching Mary Jo. “Do I have to look for it?”

Mary Jo giggled as Chris patted her down until searching hands reached under her sweater. “Okay, stop. Shit, you’ve got cold fingers!” She grabbed Chris’s hands in both of hers. “I hope you like it. Now close your eyes, and no peeking.”

Chris could barely stand the suspense. Before Bill and Frances came into her life, Christmas meant very little. While she had received gifts from her family in her youth, the true meaning of the holiday didn’t exist in her parents’ house because of the hell she lived in all the other days of the year. She had always managed to sneak out to the barn afterward to lavish her best friends with treats and affection.

“Keep your eyes closed, Martel,” Mary Jo said. “Now hold out your right hand.”

Frowning, Chris shut her eyes. She felt Mary Jo push her sweater sleeve up a bit to expose her wrist.

“Don’t look.”

Despite the warning, Chris peeked. Mary Jo bent over and pulled up the right leg of her jeans. She removed something tucked inside her sock and straightened up.

Chris quickly closed her eyes.

Steadying Chris’s arm, Mary Jo placed something on her wrist. “Okay, you can look.”

Chris opened her eyes and stared at what Mary Jo had done. Tears brimmed and ran down her cheeks. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her other arm while gazing at the bracelet on her wrist. It was made of braided horsehair, and in the middle sat a heart streaked with black, white, gray, and brown that seemed to include all the other strands of hair.

Fingering the bracelet, she looked at Mary Jo. “It’s beautiful, babe. Thank you.” She closed the small distance between them and embraced Mary Jo in a tight hug. “I love it,” she mumbled into her neck.

“I had it made for you. All the horsehair is from horses in your barn. I spent hours scouring the barn for long strands of horsehair. Doing that without your knowledge was nearly impossible. Several times, I came to the farm on a Thursday morning, knowing you’d be at Frances’s house. After collecting what I could find, I’d race over to join you guys for breakfast.”

Chris leaned back to meet Mary Jo’s gaze. “Really?”

“When I was working on my undergrad, I met a woman whose mother is Native American,” Mary Jo said. “She knows how to braid horsehair, so I sent it to her, and she made this for you.”

“I am entirely overwhelmed by this gift.” Chris went quiet for a moment, thinking about what she wanted to say. “You can’t even imagine how much I love you.”

Mary Jo cradled Chris’s face between her hands and kissed her hard. “Do you know that there’s nowhere on this earth I would rather be at this moment than right here? I love you, too.”

Chris rewarded Mary Jo with a passionate kiss and a tight embrace, feeling breathless when their lips broke apart. She rested her forehead against Mary Jo’s. Being in love with this beautiful and remarkable woman was beyond breathtaking and exciting. She couldn’t remember a time in her life she’d felt this happy and fulfilled. “Too bad you have to go to work,” she murmured.

“I’ll be back later.”

“You want your gift now? Or when you come home?”

Mary Jo snorted. “Well, right now, Martel, of course.”

“Follow me.” Chris led her down to Ruby’s stall. Mary Jo peered inside, and Ruby greeted them with a nicker through a mouthful of hay. Mary Jo looked at Chris, clearly confused.

“Well?” Chris prodded.

“Well, what?”

“Ruby’s foal.”

“What about it?”

Chris laughed as recognition dawned on Mary Jo’s face. Nodding, she said, “It’s yours.”

“Ruby’s foal? Is mine?”

“Only if you want it. Or I suppose I could get you something else.”

Mary Jo flung herself into Chris’s arms. “Oh, my God! Chris! Oh, my God! Really? It’s been years since I’ve had a horse of my own. I never had a foal to watch grow into an adult.”

Chris groaned as Mary Jo squeezed the breath out of her. “Jesus, Cav, you’re squishing me.”

Mary Jo released her abruptly and went into Ruby’s stall to give the Paint a hug around the neck. “You make sure it’s an extra special baby, big girl,” she whispered, her gaze meeting Chris’s through the bars of the stall. “Thank you, Chris,” she added softly.

Indifferent to the fuss, Ruby snorted and returned to her hay. Her belly was big and pendulous, her movements sluggish. She was due to foal in March, but the colt was already kicking regularly, keeping his dam tired.

When the foals started dropping, the mares weren’t the only ones on the farm who would feel the exhaustion, Chris thought wryly.

*   *   *

Later that morning, Chris was in the barn leading Stetson in the direction of the three Thoroughbred mares. She had exposed them to eighteen hours of simulated daylight every day for the past two months with timers programmed to turn the two-hundred-fifty-watt bulbs on and off. The mares were finally showing signs of going into heat.

Because horses have an eleven-month gestation, Chris wanted to get the mares bred by early February so they would foal next January. According to the Jockey Club, all Thoroughbreds were technically one year older on January first. Getting the mares to foal as close as possible to the first of the year ensured the foals would be near physical maturity when they entered training as two year-olds.

Stetson began his “stud talk” the closer he got to the mares. He nickered low and pranced next to Chris, who could see all three mares pacing back and forth in their stalls as they whinnied their greetings. When she and Stetson drew closer, each of the mares had their tails raised in the “come-hither” position.

“Yup, you three stooges are ready, aren’t you?” Chris took care to keep Stetson away from the stall walls. She let him sniff each mare briefly through the bars before she turned him away and led him back to his own stall.

While she walked from Stetson’s stall toward the office, Chris fingered the bracelet on her wrist. She had been so moved the moment she saw the bracelet—so much thought, so much love had been woven into the horsehair.

When Mary Jo had said she loved her, those three little words melted away all her fears and insecurities. Chris smiled contentedly as she recalled Mary Jo’s joyful reaction when she realized Ruby’s foal would be hers. Watching the two of them together was going to be so much fun.

The farm phone rang when Chris opened the door to the office. She reached over the desk and grabbed the receiver. “Hello, Went Farm.” She waited a moment and repeated her greeting. Silence was the only answer.

The caller hung up. “Huh, must have been a wrong number.” Shrugging her tired shoulders, she replaced the receiver and went around the desk to sit down.

Piles of papers sat on her desk. She closed her eyes and sighed. When she had gotten out of bed and washed her face earlier, she saw dark circles shadowing her eyes. Uninterrupted sleep was a luxury she hadn’t enjoyed lately. There was too much to do, think about, and remember right now.

From today until May, Chris would be kept busy with breeding and foaling. She’d already moved five mares to the big, straw-filled foaling stalls. Sierra was one of those mares, due to foal within the next day or so. She glanced up at the activated surveillance monitors and back to the mountain of paperwork on her desk: breeding certificates, Jockey Club reports, stallion reports, registrations, and more, organized into piles. All of them required her undivided attention.

The fax machine rang, whirred to life, and interrupted her thoughts. Chris had been expecting the fax. She had notified the owners of the Thoroughbreds that their horses would be ready to ship to the breeding farm within the week. She leaned back in her chair, reached behind her, and pulled the sheets of paper from the machine.

The owners of the three mares were close friends and had chosen the same stallion to breed their Thoroughbreds. The documents she now received were signed contracts allowing her to choose the shipper, releases of liability should any injuries occur during transport, and updated insurance policies.

Satisfied everything was in order, she placed the call to Finger Lakes Horse Transport to make arrangements for the mares to leave the following day. When mares were ready to be bred, time was of the essence. Fortunately, these horses were traveling within New York state lines. The current health certificates from their original arrival would suffice for the trip to Claremont Farm, in the Catskill Mountains. Since the breeding farm was rather close, Chris’s plan was for the mares to leave early in the morning, be exposed to the stallion, and return to her farm late that same night.

Although the day would be long for the mares, she was certain the trip would be accomplished in complete and utter comfort. Finger Lakes Horse Transport’s mode of transportation was a large tractor-trailer modified for shipping horses. A rubber-coated ramp led up to six large, thickly padded stalls knee deep in straw. The roof and walls were white with regularly spaced, adjustable windows. The horses would get the maximum amount of light possible, helping them feel at ease while traveling in a big box on wheels. When traveling at night, dim overhead lights lit the interior of the trailer and were left on for the duration of the trip.

Chris got up to make a cup of coffee before tackling the paperwork. Her gaze migrated to the dogs stretched out on the cot. Without conscious volition, she recalled the first time she and Mary Jo had made love and felt familiar stirrings deep in her belly.

She heaved a sigh. It had been almost a week since she and Mary Jo were able to sleep together, let alone have sex.

Things had gotten very busy for Mary Jo. Not only was she running all over the countryside at all hours, but Doc had come down with a bad case of the flu, leaving him bed-ridden for the past ten days. Mary Jo had told her Donna wouldn’t let him out of the house until he was one hundred percent well again. That meant Mary Jo had to play solo vet until Donna deemed Doc well enough to work.

Under those circumstances, it had been difficult for the two of them to spend much time together. Chris found she missed Mary Jo terribly, which surprised her, so she had convinced Mary Jo to stay at the house so they’d see each other in passing, albeit briefly, as they went about their individual work.

If she and Mary Jo slept in the same bed, sleep would be the last thing on their minds. Fortunately, a solution was at hand. Because there were mares in the foaling stalls, Chris had moved into the office where she’d spend most days and all her nights until the last mare dropped her foal.

The rich aroma of coffee reached Chris’s nostrils and drew her attention back to the present. After filling a large travel mug, she returned to her desk.

Before sitting, she glanced at the monitors to assess the mares then reached over and turned up the volume. Sierra looked uncomfortable and seemed a bit restless.

After she’d finished the morning chores, Chris had used an extremely accurate test kit to check a few drops of Sierra’s milk, hoping to get an idea about when the mare might foal. In all likelihood, she thought Sierra would foal tonight or early tomorrow morning. Familiar with the foaling habits of most of the mares under her care, and familiar with the signs, she would know for sure if Sierra refused her evening feed.

Several hours later, Chris clicked the final save on the updated records in her computer. She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands and ran her fingers through her rumpled hair, happy to have gotten rid of three entire piles of paper. She stood up and stretched muscles gone stiff from sitting too long and groaned as she worked the kinks out of her back.

“Come on beasties, let’s go for a quick walk before we start chores.” She took a last look at the monitors.

The dogs woke, and were out the door in instant, turning circles in excitement. While they were free to come and go as they pleased, the dogs always enjoyed having the leader of their pack join them.

Chris drew fresh air deep into her lungs as she left the barn. Other than dumping the manure earlier, she hadn’t been outside all day.

The remaining sunlight streaked across the high clouds and turned them bright red.

“Red sky at night, sailor’s delight,” she whispered. The night would be cold. She reminded herself to turn on the heat lamp in Sierra’s stall.

Two nights ago, a four-inch blast from the north had left snow that still lingered on the ground. Other than tracks from the dogs and browsing deer, the white powder was smooth and uninterrupted. Chris and the dogs made their way down the trail to the pond.

The pine tree branches, still heavily laden and bent low with snow, made it impossible for her to see very far ahead. The absence of wind above the trees and the muffling effect of the snow turned her walk with the dogs somewhat surreal.

When she emerged from the woods, a subtle indent in the snow with wing impressions on either side signaled that the Red-Tailed hawk had found breakfast. The dogs descended on it, no doubt scenting infinitesimal drops of blood from an ill-fated mouse. In a moment, all signs of hunter and hunted were obliterated by the dogs’ stomping and impatient pawing.

She and the dogs circled the pond once and headed back the way they’d come. She hoped to see Mary Jo’s truck in the drive, but it was probably too early. Lately, Mary Jo’s days hadn’t ended until hours after dark.

Halfway back to the house, Chris was delighted to see a bundled figure walking their way.

When the dogs caught sight of Mary Jo, they took off at a dead run to greet her. A broad grin stretched across Chris’s face when she heard squeals of laughter from Mary Jo and watched the dogs’ friendly assault. She quickened her pace. Within a few minutes, she was embracing her lover in a bear hug.

“I’m glad you’re home,” Chris said after kissing Mary Jo. “How’d you get done so early?”

“Ah, babe, I’m not done just yet. I still have to go to the Anderson farm down the road, but I thought I’d steal a few minutes to see what my girlie was up to.” Arching an eyebrow, she teased, “Obviously slacking off.” She pressed her cold lips to Chris’s mouth.

“Yeah. Slacking off, that’s it. I was actually taking a short break before chores, and then I’m on foal watch.”

“You look so tired. Have you eaten anything today?”

“You look a little like a raccoon yourself. I had a granola bar and coffee.”

“Jesus, what am I going to do with you?” Mary Jo glanced at her watch. “Okay. Barring any complications, I could be done with this last call in about an hour. How about I make us dinner?”

Chris cupped Mary Jo’s face between her hands and gave her a gentle kiss. “That’d be wonderful. Can you bring it out to the barn? I think Sierra’s going to foal tonight.”

“Of course. I’d like to sit with you this evening. I could use some sleep, but what I really need is some Chris time.” Mary Jo threaded her arm through Chris’s and walked side by side with her as they ambled back to the truck.

“That would be nice,” Chris said. “You can nap on the cot for a while if you want. I’ll wake you if anything happens.”

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” Chris innocently batted her eyelashes.

“You know how. I think about you all the time as it is, and when you start flirting, I can’t think about anything else.”

“You poor thing.”

Mary Jo bumped Chris’s shoulder. “I know our time together has been limited lately. But I want you to know that it’s thoughts of you that get me through my day.”

Chris returned the bump, put her arm around Mary Jo’s waist, and pulled her close. “I’m a big girl. I can handle it,” she said with an exaggerated sigh. She wouldn’t tell Mary Jo how much she missed her during the day or how worried she was that her lover would fall ill like Doc. Like she’d done in the past, she kept those feelings to herself and offered the support and love that Mary Jo needed to make it through her busy days. In silence, she escorted Mary Jo to the truck.

To Chris’s delight, Mary Jo returned to the farm in just over an hour. True to her word, Mary Jo managed to pull together a delicious meal of salad and tortellini with meatballs and tomato sauce. For dessert, she found a chocolate cake mix in the pantry, which she stirred together and baked while preparing the rest of the meal.

Afterward, Chris sat in the office on the cot, leaning against the wall and reading a horse magazine. Mary Jo lay on her side, head in Chris’s lap, eyes closed.

Chris idly ran her fingers through Mary Jo’s hair and felt her relax. She glanced at Cedar and Cagney curled up on either side of her legs. They made it impossible to move, especially since Sadie was snuggled in tight against Mary Jo’s chest.

The office was warm, the company cozy. Soon Mary Jo drifted into a deep sleep.

A little later, Chris woke from a light doze herself, instantly alert when she heard the sound of rustling straw from the monitor. On the screen, she watched Sierra circle the stall, nibble at a few strands of hay, and move restlessly around. It could be as much as a few hours before Sierra foaled. She let herself relax and looked down at the woman sound asleep in her lap.

Mary Jo brought a contentment and peace to Chris’s heart that she’d never felt before. Every minute she spent with her lover was a cherished gift. Careful not to wake her, she replaced her leg with a pillow and laid Mary Jo’s head down as she got up from the cot.

The dogs lifted their heads expectantly. With an outstretched palm, Chris gave them a silent command to stay. She left the office and closed the door behind her without making a sound.

The barn’s lights were muted, and the building was quiet except for the heavy sighs of sleeping horses. Chris walked down the aisle to the foaling stalls and hesitated briefly to look into each one. Sierra’s stall was at the far end.

Sierra perked her ears and nickered low when she saw Chris.

“Hey, big girl, are you working on popping that baby out tonight?” Chris slid the stall door open and walked to Sierra’s head.

Hugely pregnant, the bay mare was obviously uncomfortable. Although she was showing some early signs of labor, Sierra affectionately rubbed her head on Chris’s chest. Suddenly, her eyes grew distant and she kicked half-heartedly at her belly.

Chris ran her hands along the horse’s side and bent over to look underneath. Sierra’s udder was hard and swollen with little wax caps on the tips of the nipples. She continued to the rear of the horse to ensure the vet wrap she’d applied the length of Sierra’s tailbone was still snug and correctly positioned, as it would keep hair and other debris from entering her vulva when she foaled.

Sierra kicked at her belly again and then circled the stall, clearly searching for a place to lie down. Chris moved to the side, slid out of the stall, and returned to the office

Mary Jo hadn’t moved at all while she was gone. Chris stood in the doorway, struggling to decide whether to wake her or not. Although completely relaxed, Mary Jo’s face was gaunt and lined with fatigue. She had been going full bore since the beginning of the year.

Deciding Mary Jo needed sleep more than she needed to watch another horse foal, Chris left and quietly closed the door behind her.

She neared Sierra’s stall just in time to hear the horse groan from a contraction. She moved soundlessly to the door and leaned a shoulder against the wall, watching. Sierra struggled to her feet and circled the stall before lying down again. The mare’s tail stayed aloft as the foal entered the birth canal and pushed outward, the bulge of the birth sac now visible. The mare flopped over on her side, her breathing labored. Sweat formed on her neck and flanks. She strained once, and there was a loud whoosh as her water broke and part of the opaque sack emerged.

Chris felt it wouldn’t be long.

Sierra got up again, and her eyes glazed as the foal worked to escape the confines of her body. Without warning, her legs folded. She dropped heavily to the floor. As the contractions racked her body, she rolled over on her side, and with a deep groan, began to push. The foal’s presentation was perfect. Chris could see two tiny hooves followed by a nose. With each contraction, more of the foal came out. A final push and the newborn colt finally lay in the straw.

Chris had seen dozens of foals born, but she never grew tired of seeing a mare bring new life into the world. Every foal was a miracle, nothing short of beautiful. This little guy was no exception. His wet black and white coat shimmered as he lay exhausted in the straw. Blood pumped through the umbilical cord that still linked him to his dam.

Sierra rolled up onto her chest and looked back at her foal. She nickered softly to him, and he responded with his own little voice.

Chris remained outside the stall. Left alone during the first few hours, mother and baby would get to know each other and form their own unique bond. The relationship would last until weaning at six months and a permanent separation.

Sierra got to her feet, and as she turned to face her foal, the umbilical cord broke. Lowering her head to sniff the new arrival, she began to lick him dry. Chris smiled. The colt seemed content to stay where he was and just breathe.

Forty minutes later, Chris watched the newborn struggle to his feet. After several failed attempts, he finally made it and stood unsteadily, breathing hard, his legs apart. Sierra stayed stock-still in the middle of the stall and nickered encouragement. Obeying his instincts, he moved awkwardly to her side, one step at a time. He bumped his head under her belly, searching for the nipple and his first meal.

Chris grinned at the sounds of suckling. She pushed away from the wall and headed to the feed room to prepare a warm bran mash for the exhausted mare. After that, she would have to wait for Sierra to deliver the afterbirth. Upon examining it, she would join Mary Jo on the cot. It was almost three in the morning, which meant she would sleep less than two hours, but she would take what rest she could get.

Sierra eagerly ate her warm meal while the colt slept flat out in the deep straw. Chris retrieved the afterbirth. Satisfied it was complete, she put it in a bucket to dispose of later. All seemed well, and she returned to the office. Exhausted, she slid onto the cot and pulled a heavy quilt over herself and Mary Jo, who muttered sleepily and yanked Chris tight against her.

She slept the rest of the night in Mary Jo’s arms and woke just before dawn.

Mary Jo was still sound asleep, her arm draped possessively over Chris’s chest, her warm hand cupping Chris’s breast. With great reluctance, Chris slid off the cot and repositioned the quilt over Mary Jo. The dogs reacted to her stirrings by oozing off the cot as well and exiting one by one out their own door.

While a pot of coffee brewed, Chris decided a hot shower was in order. She stripped naked when she saw steam rising above the shower stall and stepped into the water. She let the hot water stream down her neck and back as she stood, her palms against the wall, her head drooping to her chest. She was exhausted and felt it everywhere. If she leaned a little on the shower walls, she was certain she would fall asleep right there.

The shower door opened, and a waft of cooler air invaded the hot steam. Arms wrapped around her waist from behind as Mary Jo pushed her naked breasts and stomach against Chris’s back.

“Thought you could sneak out, huh?” Mary Jo asked.

Chris turned to face her. Mary Jo began to knead her shoulders and winced in sympathy as she let out an appreciative groan.

Wrapping Mary Jo in her arms, Chris answered her with a long, lingering kiss. “Good morning, babe. I didn’t want to wake you. You looked so adorable lying there.”

“Uh-huh. And what was your excuse for not waking me last night?” Mary Jo trailed her fingers over Chris’s stomach.

“I’m sorry. Sierra didn’t have any complications, and she dropped a beautiful black and white colt.”

“Yeah, I saw. He’s a beauty. But you still should’ve gotten me up.”

Chris poured some liquid soap into her hand and began to massage it onto Mary Jo’s skin, starting at the slight indent below her throat and over her collarbone. She continued down over both breasts and noted with mounting desire that, despite the hot water, Mary Jo’s nipples grew hard.

“Way to change the subject, Martel,” Mary Jo said. “I’ve missed this.” She reached for Chris, obviously eager to do her own version of massage.

Chris molded their bodies together, her hands searching, caressing, her mouth feasting on Mary Jo’s. As hot water streamed over her skin, she flushed, both from heat and wanton need. Soon she was gasping out her orgasm, feeling Mary Jo climaxing with her. She leaned against the shower wall, panting. She struggled to remain standing on extremely weakened legs and support an equally drained Mary Jo as well.

As they toweled off, Chris stared at Mary Jo, hungry for more.

“Stop looking at me like that or we’ll never get anything done today,” Mary Jo said affectionately.

“Can’t help it. I want you.”

“You always want me.”

“Can’t help it. You’re beautiful.”

“If I didn’t know better, Martel, I’d think you were a sex maniac.”

“Ah, babe.” Chris clutched her chest in mock pain. “That hurt.”

Mary Jo closed the distance and kissed her. “Don’t worry. I like that you want me all the time.” She patted Chris’s cheek. “Hurry up and get dressed. I want to check out that baby some more.”

“Right. Oh, that reminds me,” Chris said, jolted out of arousing thoughts of taking Mary Jo to bed and making passionate love to her all day long. “Would you palpate the Thoroughbreds? They’re heading off to get bred today, and I want to let the stud farm know what their probable ovulation timetable looks like.”

“Of course. Do you think we can start working in the round pen again when Ramquette gets back?”

Mary Jo and Ramquette had improved significantly, but as far as Chris was concerned, both needed to sharpen their skills. However, she’d had to put their training on hold for a while. December had been bitter cold with high temperatures in the twenties. She refused to work any horses when it was so cold that it prevented the horse’s muscles from warming up sufficiently, thereby increasing the risk of injury. Although the temperature had gotten warmer recently, she’d further delayed the training due to the necessity of putting the mares under lights to encourage them to begin their heat cycles.

“Yeah, I think we can give it a try,” Chris replied after a moment’s thought. “Hopefully, Doc will be up and around soon so he can take the load off of you.”

“Don’t I know it. To this day I can’t figure out how, for all those years, Doc worked his practice by himself.”

“Donna helped when she could.”

They finished dressing, and Chris headed out the door with Mary Jo following her. She had just pulled the door closed when she heard the phone ring. She turned around on her heel and returned to the office to answer it. “Went Farm, Chris speaking.”

Silence.

“Hello?” Chris heard a click, then nothing but the dial tone. Frowning, she hung up. Weird. That was the third hang up in as many days. She wondered if something was wrong with the line. Dismissing the issue, she hurried back to rejoin Mary Jo and eventually forgot all about it.

Chapter 24

The days passed in a flash, turning into busy weeks then two insanely demanding months of foaling and foal heat breeding. Chris plodded through as best she could, and Mary Jo did the same. A reprieve would come shortly.

Despite Chris’s exhaustion, she was immensely pleased. Twelve healthy foals had been born on the farm, six outside mares had visited Stetson for his services, and all three Thoroughbreds were safely in foal. Top Hat and Ruby were the only pregnant mares currently occupying the foaling stalls. Top Hat was due to foal within the week. Ruby, however, had missed her foaling date and was now three weeks late.

Chris watched Ruby like a hawk. The poor mare’s belly was greatly distended, and she often saw the foal kicking inside. Finally, much to her relief, the foal turned in the uterus and faced the correct direction. The foal’s new position caused Ruby’s belly to sag to an almost impossible point.

“Quit your pacing, Chris,” Mary Jo said one evening. “Jesus. You’re worse than an expectant father.” She was at Chris’s desk trying to enter data from her day’s calls while Chris moved around the room, absently rearranged things, and glanced at the monitors every thirty seconds.

“I can’t help it,” Chris replied. “Ruby’s never been this late. But she started dripping milk this morning so she’ll probably foal tonight.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I don’t know. I just have a feeling.” Chris stopped pacing.

“Babe, don’t worry. I don’t have to be anywhere but here tonight. Doc is on call, and he knows I’m on foal watch with you,” Mary Jo said reassuringly. After saving her work, she turned off the computer.

Mary Jo’s words did nothing to ease the tension in Chris’s shoulders. Narrowing her eyes, she checked the monitor yet again.

“Why don’t you take the dogs for a run and work off some of that nervous energy? I’ll keep an eye on things here,” Mary Jo said.

Chris sighed. Mary Jo was right. It would be nice to get some fresh air. The full moon hovering in the sky would brighten her walk, and she’d have millions of bright stars as company.

“All right, you talked me into it,” she said. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. But if you see Ruby start—”

“Go. I’m a vet, remember? Now get out of here.”

Chris walked over to Mary Jo and kissed her. “I love you, you know?”

“Yes. I love you, too. Now go, before I start throwing things at you,” Mary Jo said, chuckling.

Chris ran out the door. Cedar, Cagney and Sadie danced circles around her as she walked to the end of the barn. They probably had sensed her apprehension all day and lain low, but now her energy had changed, which meant possible fun for them.

April’s unpredictable weather had laid the groundwork for a mild May. A bright sun had been the dominant force for the past three days, and the ground had begun to warm up. The buds on the trees were green and swollen, ready to burst open and give freedom to newborn leaves. Male birds of all types were in the area once again, scouting for nesting sites and awaiting the arrival of potential mates.

Chris’s thoughts wandered to Frances. It had been several weeks since she’d visited her. She missed her, but it wouldn’t be long before their weekly breakfasts got back on track. Frances understood how the foaling season gobbled up time and energy, so she patiently waited for Chris to call or make an impromptu visit. In fact, Mary Jo had gone a couple of times and reported she had left Frances content with updates on the foaling and, of course, how Chris was holding up.

Subtle movement in the brush ahead caught her eye. Signaling the dogs to her side, Chris watched a doe and her spotted fawn step forward. The fawn moved to the doe’s backside. After nudging a few times with an insistent nose, it began to nurse in earnest. Chris didn’t want to disturb the pair, so she turned back the way she’d come.

“Come on, girls, let’s head back,” she said to the dogs. She’d been gone for about forty minutes and figured it was long enough to make Mary Jo feel better. She would have to control her pacing to keep everybody calm, including herself.

The office was empty, and the door was ajar. She continued toward the foaling stalls, and her trepidation returned with a vengeance. At last, she joined Mary Jo, who stood leaning against the stall, watching Ruby.

“Is everything okay?” Chris tried to keep her nervousness in check.

Mary Jo hesitated a moment before answering, “I think so. When I looked at the monitor, I thought I saw Ruby shaking a little. But I couldn’t tell, so I came down here to see if it happened again.”

Ruby was standing in the middle of her stall, a hind leg bent under her at rest, her eyes at half-mast. She didn’t appear to be in distress.

Chris slid the stall door open and moved to the front of the horse. Ruby opened sleepy eyes and watched her approach. The mare lowered her head to Chris’s hand and let her rub her face and ears as she sighed heavily.

“I know, sweet girl,” Chris murmured. “You need to put that big foal on the ground.”

With her hand on Ruby’s side, Chris bent low and noted the dripping milk from Ruby’s udder. She stood up and faced Mary Jo. “She’s definitely going to foal tonight.”

Laying her ears flat against her head, Ruby kicked at her stomach. “She may be having some labor pains right now,” Mary Jo said.

Worried, Chris looked at Mary Jo for reassurance.

Mary Jo nodded. “She’ll be fine, sweetheart. What I saw on the monitor may have been a minor stress seizure. We might not see it again, but just in case, I’ll go get my bag.”

Chris patted Ruby’s neck and moved to the doorway to watch. Mary Jo rubbed Chris’s arm and headed for her truck.

When Mary Jo returned a few minutes later, Ruby was laying down, groaning as she worked through a contraction. Just as Mary Jo reached the stall, Chris heard the telltale whoosh of the mare’s water breaking. If it weren’t for the concern regarding Ruby’s delivery, she would have been beyond delighted to see the foal being born, but her excitement was short-lived.

Glancing at Ruby’s rear, Chris saw a tiny hoof, followed by the foal’s nose. She looked at Mary Jo and said, “Oh crap, that isn’t good.”

Donning a pair of sterile gloves, Mary Jo quickly brushed past Chris and through the open stall door.

“Easy girl,” Mary Jo said softly as she approached the mare. “I need to help you a little.”

Chris watched with guarded concern as Mary Jo crouched next to Ruby and gently inserted her hand into the mare’s vulva, next to the protruding hoof. “Can I help?” she asked.

“Just come in, steady her head, and talk to her. I need her to slow her contractions down so I can push the head back enough to find the other foot. She might relax if you talk to her.”

As Mary Jo pushed the little head back, fighting the contractions, Chris spoke almost inaudibly to Ruby. “Take it easy for a minute, big girl. Let Cav help you out.”

“Okay, I need to just go in a little farther.” Mary Jo grunted, apparently from the pressure of Ruby’s contractions on her arm. “Yes. I’ve managed to grab that elusive hoof and pull it forward. And I’ve got the head.”

Within minutes, a liver and white foal lay in the straw.

Ruby lay still in the straw and didn’t make any effort to greet her new foal. Without warning, her entire body convulsed in a seizure. The mare’s eyes remain fixed, pupils dilated, and then they rolled up, showing the whites. Sweat covered her entire body and began running down into the wet and bloody straw.

“Cav, something’s wrong,” Chris said as despair washed over her. A rush of worry made her head buzz.

“I was anticipating this.” Mary Jo rapidly drew a syringe of Valium and injected it into Ruby’s jugular vein. The seizure stopped as abruptly as it began. Ruby’s tense muscles relaxed, and her labored breathing returned to normal. Soon, she was able to rise up on her chest. When enough of her strength returned, she struggled to her feet and turned to sniff and lick her foal.

Standing back to watch mother and baby meet each other, Chris asked, “What do you think caused that?” Her entire body felt weak with relief.

“When a mare goes past her due date, the foal continues to grow, displacing intestines and other organs. When the mare gives birth, all that stuff comes rushing back and it can cause a severe amount of pain. That can cause a stress seizure.”

Chris turned to Mary Jo and opened her arms in invitation. “I’m so glad you were here. I’ve never seen anything like that.”

Mary Jo hugged Chris tight, careful to hold her gloved hands away. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Especially when my baby was being born.” She snapped off her gloves and gently brushed Chris’s cheek with the back of her hand. “Ruby should be okay. We just have to monitor her for the next twelve hours to make sure she doesn’t colic. If she doesn’t, then we know everything moved back into the right place.”

The colt nickered to his dam. Chris turned to look. He was already trying to stand. His legs were incredibly long and gangly, painted white right up past his knees and hocks. A wide white blaze on both sides of his glacial blue eyes stopped just short of mulishly long ears.

“Beautiful,” Mary Jo said, staring at her colt.

“Yeah,” Chris replied, but she wasn’t looking at the horses. She only had eyes for her lady veterinarian.

The next day, in order to finish her morning chores early, Chris got up sooner than usual, begrudgingly leaving her lover sound asleep in her bed. Following the usual feeding and stall mucking, she’d taken the temperatures of all the foals, recorded them, and medicated a two-week-old filly with a touch of diarrhea.

Mary Jo came out to the barn just as Chris finished, but had to leave to go to her apartment for a change of clothes. After a quick kiss, she promised to meet Chris at Frances’s place for breakfast.

In the office, Chris leaned back in her chair, feeling quite pleased as the computer uploaded and sent the last foal’s medical record to its owner. She glanced up at the monitors. Seeing nothing amiss, she turned off the laptop, headed for the door, and whistled for the dogs. She had jogged halfway down the aisle before the office door closed behind her. She heard the phone ringing but decided to let the answering machine take care of it.

Clearly sensing Chris’s excitement, Cedar, Cagney, and Sadie ran to her with expectant eyes, their tongues lolling. The Labs danced around Chris as she walked, and Sadie ran back and forth, alternately jumping and bouncing against Chris’s legs with her front paws.

“Come on, get in the truck. We’re going to see Frances and Daisy today.” Chris laughed as the dogs launched through the open barn door and raced toward the vehicle.

She missed Frances terribly. Fortunately, there was only one more horse due to foal on the farm, and it looked as if it would be a week or more before Top Hat was ready. Since Top Hat was a bit temperamental, she had moved the mare to the foaling stall two weeks earlier so she could settle in comfortably.

Normally, the dogs would be sleeping by the time she got to the end of her farm’s drive, but today, all three remained awake, periodically whining as they watched the road go by. Chris rushed to the mill to pick up grain for Frances’s horses and was soon on her way again.

When Chris made the turn onto Frances’s lane, she saw Daisy running down the middle of the drive as fast as her short legs could carry her. She stopped the truck, opened the door, and laughed as the panting dog sailed over her lap into the passenger seat. The truck’s cab came alive with the sound of thumping tails and happy whines and yips.

“Hold on, beasties, we’ll be there in a second,” Chris said, unsuccessfully ducking a vigorously wagging tail.

She parked in front of the barn and opened her door to let the dogs out. In a flash, they clambered over her, jumped to the ground, and disappeared into the woods behind the barn.

Shaking her head in amusement at the ecstatic yaps echoing from the trees, Chris got out of the truck and walked up onto the porch. Without warning, the door burst open and Frances rushed out to engulf her in a hug.

“It’s about time you got here!” Frances planted a big kiss on Chris’s cheek.

Chris giggled. “Missed me that much, huh?” She hugged her dear friend back and enjoyed the familiar fragrance of mint in her hair.

“Yes, I did. I know you’re busy this time of year, but I hate it because I never get to see you.” Frances looped her arm through Chris’s and pulled her into the kitchen. “Where’s Mary Jo?” She turned to glance down the drive.

“She should be here any minute. She had to go back to her apartment and change into her work clothes.”

“Excellent. Oh, I am so glad to see you.” Frances examined her and frowned. “You’ve lost weight.”

“I do every year, but it never takes you long to pack it back on me.” Chris patted her flat stomach.

“You don’t look as bad as past years. Mary Jo must have force-fed you.”

Much to Chris’s relief, the sound of tires crunching on the gravel drive interrupted their conversation. She and Frances went back outside and stopped on the porch to wait to greet Mary Jo. Chris widened her eyes in surprise, and her mouth dropped open as Mary Jo got out of her truck.

Donned in a form-fitting, red pantsuit with a low-cut white silk blouse under the jacket and black flats on her feet, Mary Jo slammed the truck door and ran her fingers through her loose, shoulder-length hair. She looked toward the porch and laughed.

“Put your eyeballs back into your heads, for God’s sake,” she said. “Geez, can’t a woman dress up without causing a train wreck around here?”

She glanced at Frances and saw her amusement reflected in Frances’s expression.

While Chris stared at Mary Jo and tried to formulate words in her brain, Frances was the first to speak. “Oh, hon, it’s just that you clean up so nice.” She nudged Chris with her elbow.

Chris found her voice at last. “Wow!” She blinked and swallowed audibly. “You’re going to work in that?”

Mary Jo joined them on the porch and walked past them through the door. “Yes, silly. I told you last night I have to go to Albany today to testify in a horse abuse case.” She turned to face Chris, who’d followed her through the doorway. Chris had been paying more attention to the way Mary Jo’s outfit accentuated her figure than the answer to her question.

Somehow sensing she and Mary Jo needed a private moment, Frances went past them, muttered something about setting the table, and left them standing near the kitchen doorway.

Recalling their night together, Chris grinned wickedly when she saw a flush creep up Mary Jo’s neck. Mary Jo had worked to convince Chris to stay the night in the house, and when she finally relented, they had spent hours making love. Chris knew her expression told Mary Jo there were no regrets for not sleeping in the barn.

“Yes. I vaguely remember you telling me that,” Chris said, still grinning. “You look hot,” she whispered, too low for Frances to overhear.

“I… uh…” Mary Jo stammered. “I probably won’t be back until late this afternoon, early evening, depending on how soon I have to testify.” She entered the kitchen, took a seat at the table, and—to Chris’s regret—pulled her hair into a ponytail and secured it with an elastic band.

“I’m surprised Doc isn’t going.” Chris chuckled and poured coffee into three mugs. She decided she would stop her teasing for now.

“Remember the guy I told you about who wouldn’t let me treat his horse?”

“Yeah, that happened last fall?”

“Correct. Well, a few weeks later, I happened to be near his farm. I decided to pop in and see how the horse was doing. To make a long story short, I found the horse behind the barn, dead, with three others in deplorable shape. I told Doc about it, and he got the Humane Society involved, and the rest is history.”

“What an idiot.” Frances waved a big serving spoon in the air. She brought it over to the table, along with a hot pad. “I’m glad I don’t know who he is, or I’d wring his neck with my bare hands.”

Mary Jo chuckled. “I know you would, Frances. But if everything goes as planned, he’ll be convicted.”

“He should be strung up by his balls and starved for a month,” Chris said angrily. “Then let the flies have at him,” she added.

Frances and Mary Jo smiled in agreement, though they all knew jail was probably out of the question. Unfortunately, most of the time the legal system fined animal abusers and let them go with just a warning—a practice many groups were relentlessly trying to change.

“Okay, breakfast is ready.” Frances pulled a casserole dish out of the oven, and the mouth-watering scent of breakfast burritos filled the kitchen.

“Frances, that smells heavenly,” Mary Jo said.

“I haven’t made these in such a long time, I thought I’d make something special to celebrate seeing you two again.” Frances put the dish on the table.

Mary Jo dug a container of sour cream, a jar of salsa, and a bag of shredded cheddar cheese out of the refrigerator and added them to the table.

Mary Jo and Frances shared small talk as Chris busied herself eating one plateful of burritos, then another. When she was so stuffed she couldn’t eat another bite, she leaned back in her chair with her coffee mug in hand. “Cav, do you have time to come back to the farm for a few minutes before you leave?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“I want you to take a look at Top Hat.”

Mary Jo visibly paled. “You’re sure?” she asked meekly. “I don’t know why, but out of all the horses that have tried to eat me, she’s the one that makes me nervous.”

“You’ll be fine. I want to familiarize her with you, and vice versa, for when she foals.”

“Ten thousand reasons why I can’t are going through my head, but the best I can come up with is I’m not sure I want to go into that stall with my good clothes on, Chris.”

Chris smirked. “Don’t worry. You can put one of my bigger coveralls on so you won’t get dirty. Plus, since she’s out of her regular stall, she should be better with you.”

“Uh-huh. Right, Martel. That horse is a witch wherever you put her.” Despite her protest, Mary Jo seemed resigned. “All right, I know you won’t let me get out of it, but we need to make it quick. I’m due in Albany at noon, and it’ll take me a couple of hours to get there.”

“Okay. We should get going then.”

Frances watched this exchange with an amused grin. “Chris, don’t you take any chances.” She turned to Mary Jo, adding, “You’ll be fine. That old horse won’t try anything as long as Chris is in the stall with you.”

Mary Jo nodded. “Okay, I guess I’m ready then.”

Chris collected the dogs and drove back to the farm with Mary Jo following in her own truck.

Inside the barn, Mary Jo asked, “Are you sure this is a good idea?” as she pulled on the oversized coveralls.

“Don’t worry. Hattie will be fine. Especially since you’ll smell like me with those coveralls on.”

“I sure smelled like you this morning.”

“Don’t tease me, especially if you have to leave soon.”

“I’ll make it up to you if you don’t make me do this.”

“Babe, as appealing as that is, you have to get over your fear of this horse.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Taking a deep breath, Mary Jo said, “You’ll owe me for this.”

Chris kissed her softly. “Don’t worry. I’ll pay up.”

She and Mary Jo walked down the barn aisle, each with an arm around the other’s waist. When they stood in front of the foaling stall that contained the hugely pregnant Top Hat, Chris said, “Now move naturally and stay close to me at first.”

“Yeah. Naturally. Right.”

Chris opened the door and walked into the stall with Mary Jo almost plastered to her back.

The big Thoroughbred stood still, watching Chris. Her eyes were alert, and her ears twitched from side to side, front to back.

Chris reached behind her to grab Mary Jo’s hand and pulled her to her side. She went to the mare. With their joined hands, she reached out to pet the mare’s shiny black coat. The horse’s skin flinched once, twice, and then Top Hat visibly relaxed.

“I’m going to take my hand away, but I want you to keep petting and talking to her. Let her get used to your voice and touch,” Chris said quietly. She let go of Mary Jo’s hand. “Try and relax, sweetheart. If she hasn’t done anything by now, she probably won’t. Close your eyes, and try to envision steady hands and calmness.”

“Probably? Oh, dear God.” Mary Jo closed her eyes.

Chris backed away and leaned against a wall. Although relaxed, she remained ready to react in an instant if Top Hat made any aggressive moves.

When Mary Jo opened her eyes a few seconds later, her body language told Chris that her advice had worked.

Mary Jo talked to the mare much like Chris did. Top Hat pressed her nose to Mary Jo’s chest and pushed. Standing her ground, Mary Jo continued to stroke the mare’s neck. When the horse pressed against her again, there was no push. Top Hat simply stood quietly, nostrils flaring—no doubt inhaling Mary Jo’s scent combined with her own familiar smell, Chris thought. Mary Jo smiled and turned her head to look at Chris, who returned the grin.

“Okay, good,” she said. “Now I want you to turn your back to her and walk to me.”

Mary Jo did as instructed. When she joined Chris, she glanced back at the horse. “Huh. That wasn’t so bad.”

After Mary Jo moved away, Top Hat put her head down and nibbled at a few strands of hay.

“God, you wouldn’t know by the look of her that she’s an attack horse.” Mary Jo seemed awed by the encounter.

“I knew you could do it. I hate to ruin the moment, but I think you’d better get going if you want to be to court on time.”

“Yeah,” Mary Jo said, still transfixed. “Oh. Yeah. I need to get moving.” She snapped out of her trance. Outside the stall, she pulled the coveralls off and handed them to Chris. “Are you planning on sleeping in the house tonight?”

“It depends on whether you’re here or not when I’m ready to hit the hay.”

“I’ll call you when I leave Albany. If it gets too late, I’ll just head home.”

“No. Come back here. Please.” Chris wrapped her arms around Mary Jo’s waist. “I’d rather have you sleep here with me, whether it’s on the cot or in the house, no matter what time you get in.”

“Okay.” Mary Jo leaned in and captured Chris’s lips in a kiss. “Walk me out to the truck, and I’ll give you another kiss that’ll keep you going till I come home.”

Chris laughed. “Tease.”

A few minutes later, Chris watched as Mary Jo’s truck sped down the drive. Absently glancing down, she saw a cigarette butt in the dirt. Huh? She didn’t know anybody that smoked around here. Maybe it fell out of the horse hauler’s truck. She picked up the butt and threw it in the trash barrel on her way to the house.

The dogs had been sound asleep on the lawn, soaking up the sun’s warmth.

“Come on, girls, you can sleep inside while I do some housework,” Chris called.

Clearly still drowsy, Cedar, Cagney, and Sadie got to their feet and followed her into the house.

Chapter 25

Chris stayed busy the remainder of the morning giving the house a light spring-cleaning. She also tackled the endless pile of laundry that seemed to grow overnight.

When she went upstairs to shower, she saw Mary Jo had made their bed. As time went on, it seemed more and more natural to her that the two of them live together. The ease with which they moved around each other made it seem like they’d been together for more than just a few short months. Mary Jo definitely completed everything about her life.

At one o’clock, Chris went out to check the horses and left the exhausted dogs sleeping in their beds. Although the girls got plenty of daily exercise as a rule, their wild jaunt with Daisy at Frances’s house had been their first in several weeks. No wonder they barely opened their eyes as she left.

The sights and smells of spring filled Chris’s senses. The day had been warmer than forecasted, and the birds seemed to be celebrating, their songs filling the air.

She paused a moment to listen and breathed in the musky odor of damp earth. All the wrens, finches, chickadees, and bluebirds had something to say as they flitted from perch to perch. A single Killdeer scrambled among the stones in the driveway, perhaps searching for a nesting place to show off to a potential mate in due course.

She let her gaze drift toward the woods where a thin sheen of green glimmered. Maples and elms would be among the first to leaf out, with oaks and beeches coming last. Infant leaves, she thought. A few redbud trees were beginning to show signs of flowering, along with the crabapples and pin cherries. In a few short days, the green would be muted by red, white, and pink colors.

On a whim, after her shower she’d changed into a long-sleeved T-shirt without her sports bra. The soft cotton fabric caressed her skin as she moved around. She had briefly considered shorts but decided that would be a bit much and put on threadbare jeans instead. Although it wouldn’t be long before the days grew warmer, at the moment the temperature was still a little on the chilly side for shorts.

A soft breeze ruffled her almost dry hair. She closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sun. After taking a deep relaxing breath, she exhaled and continued to the barn.

As she ambled closer, Chris caught sight of Ruby’s colt frolicking next to his dam in the pasture. Ruby grazed and ignored him as he raced to and away from her, rearing and pawing the air at invisible opponents. She knew, despite Ruby’s apparent indifference, that the mare was watching her foal like a hawk.

More than once in the past, she had seen Ruby race to one of her foals to prevent it from running blindly toward a fence. Mares were as protective as grizzly bears, and while Ruby was no exception, she also instilled in her foals common sense and confidence.

The colt stopped playing to take a quick drink from Ruby’s udder. Engrossed, Chris watched him abandon the teat to spread his long front legs as he bent to sample a blade of grass. All at once he folded his legs, collapsed in a heap, and gave in to a sleep that she knew would claim him for the next hour or two.

With her thoughts occupied by the foal’s play, Chris walked through the open barn door and paused to let her eyes adjust to the dimmer light. Sudden movement in her peripheral vision caused her to turn but not fast enough.

She felt the breeze of something swinging through the air a millisecond before a hard object collided with the back of her head. Her vision swam, then blurred painfully. She reached for the wall to help steady herself, but everything went black and she lost consciousness.

She wasn’t sure what sense awoke first. She heard nothing, but she became aware of someone near. The deep throbbing in her head prevented her from immediately opening her eyes. A groan escaped her. She thought, but wasn’t sure, that she was sitting with her chin resting on her chest. Oddly, her body felt numb from her neck down.

Bearing the pain throbbing through her skull, Chris attempted to open her eyes. She tried to focus despite the searing light, but she got dizzy and nauseous. Closing her eyes, she waited a minute before trying again with the same result. She struggled to swallow. An unusual bitter taste coated the inside of her mouth. Her tongue felt like wood as she moved it around and searched for an ounce of saliva to wet her dry lips.

Braving the dizziness, she gingerly opened her eyes, careful not to move her head in an effort to keep the nausea at bay. Her vision cleared enough for her to realize she was staring down at her bare chest. Her T-shirt gaped open. Someone had sliced it from the neck down and pushed the sides apart, leaving her breasts exposed. Shallow but angry cuts on her skin showed the trail a sharp edge had taken when cutting the fabric. The cuts were already scabbed, she noticed. More puzzling were the ugly red welts peppered here and there on her chest. Her jeans were undone and had been pulled down with her boxers to just past her hips, effectively binding her legs together.

Chris slowly realized she was sitting in her office chair with her hands tied behind her back. What the hell? Jesus, her head hurt.

She lifted her head cautiously and fought the urge to vomit. A moan slipped out. She forced her head upright and felt a trickle of blood run down her neck, but most of her focus remained on the pain vibrating inside her skull.

“Hello, lover,” a husky voice said from just behind her.

Where do I know that voice from? Startled and confused, Chris tried to see who it was, but she couldn’t turn her head more than an inch or two without the room spinning. She struggled to regain her jumbled wits.

“I was wondering when you’d be joining me,” the woman said and moved into Chris’s view. “I felt a little bad about how hard I hit you, so while you were out I gave you something for the pain.”

Chris finally recognized her assailant. “Sky.” She pushed down the surge of panic that ballooned in her chest. “What are you doing here?”

“If you recall, we left some unfinished business last time we saw each other. Interrupted business, you might say. I decided to track you down and finish things my way.” Sky’s icy gaze cut through what remained of the fog in Chris’s mind.

A chill of fear crept up Chris’s spine. Sky’s pupils looked dilated under heavy lids, and she held her body tightly, apparently ready to spring into deadly action. Chris had no doubt she must be high on some drug cocktail. Holding a four-inch switchblade in her right hand, Sky waved the weapon through the air to punctuate her words.

“You were in la-la land for about an hour, lover.” Sky wiped her nose on her wrist. “I’ve always loved your body, you know.” A wicked smile played on her lips. “I got impatient while I was waiting for you to wake up so I had to occupy myself.”

Chris shuddered as Sky leered at her.

“Oops, I do believe I left a few marks,” Sky said with a titter.

The welts on her skin were not from the knife, Chris realized. They were crescent shaped, the marks of Sky’s teeth. Strangely, neither the welts nor the cuts hurt. Horrified, she remembered something Sky had told her.

“What did you give me?” Chris asked, her voice raspy. She was still struggling to come to grips with what had happened, and she had to swallow hard as another wave of nausea rose up her throat.

“Oh, my own little recipe. A little coke, a little valium, a little something else.” Sky laughed suddenly, the sound low and venomous. “Hmm, I guess I could tell you, now that I think about it. You won’t be around to tell anybody, anyway.”

Chris felt her face paling as the meaning of Sky’s gloating words became clear: she was here to kill her. “You don’t have to do this, Sky.” She couldn’t understand why she was so numb. It must be the drugs Sky gave her.

“I’ll show you what I need to do.” Sky swiftly bent over, grabbed the hair on Chris’s forehead, and roughly pushed her head back. In the same movement, she pressed the point of the knife under Chris’s chin.

Chris felt her flesh part as razor sharp steel met her skin.

Sky’s unblinking green eyes met Chris’s. For a moment she said nothing, and then she used the blade tip to draw a shallow, burning line down Chris’s neck.

Chris winced and held her breath until the pain subsided a bit. Shit! Felt that.

“You weren’t any fun just sitting there, lover.” Sky straightened up. “I tried fucking you, but you just sat there, completely out of it. I may have gotten a little rough down there, too.” She pointed with the knife and shrugged. She walked to the refrigerator and opened the door to grab a bottle of beer.

Chris glanced down at her lap. Her vision had cleared enough that she could see bloody smears between her thighs. Acid welled in her throat. She swallowed hard to keep from vomiting. Oh, dear God, she cut me down there? Why can’t I feel anything?

Raising her head, Chris looked up at the ceiling, trying to recall anything after she’d entered the barn. She squeezed her eyes shut a moment. The dogs were still in the house—no help, but at least they were safe. The thought eased Chris’s fear somewhat. She knew Mary Jo would take care of the dogs if Sky succeeded in doing what she promised. How long was I out? Dear God, please don’t let Mary Jo see this.

She blinked back tears. Mary Jo. She would never see her again. A single tear escaped and trickled down her cheek. Pain from the salty drop burned the cut on her neck, rousing her. No. Stay strong, Martel. It’s the only way you’re going to get out of this alive.

Chris glanced at her desk while Sky’s back was turned. If she could somehow get free and call 911… but the desktop was bare. Papers, her laptop, and the office phone with the cord ripped from the wall, were scattered on the floor. In the middle of the clutter, she saw the remnants of her cell phone. Sky must have found the phone while tying her up and smashed it.

Sky popped the cap on the bottle and sat on the desk close to Chris. She took a long pull of the beer, swallowed, and stared at her coldly. “You are quite the princess, Breeze. I didn’t realize you were such a rich bitch until I started looking around here. No wonder you never brought me home with you. You wanted to keep this all to yourself, didn’t you?”

“You’ve been here before?” Chris tried not to surrender to the darkness creeping at the edges of her vision. She closed her eyes and then opened them bit by bit.

“Yeah. I always called. If you didn’t answer, I’d come over.”

With rising dread, Chris recalled the phone calls she’d answered, only to hear the distinct click of a hang up. “That was you.”

“Yup. My cousin put it all together for me, your real name, where you lived.” Sky put the beer bottle on the desk. She stood up and began to pace. “You know, all you had to do was want me for your own, and all this could’ve been avoided.” She stopped behind Chris, leaned over, and whispered in her ear, “I wanted you for myself from the very first time I fucked you.”

Chris felt the flat of the cold blade slide down her cheek. She dared not breathe, let alone move. She crushed her rising panic. Maybe she could reason with the woman. “Sky, you were always good to me. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Oh, but you did hurt me, Breeze.” Turning the blade, Sky cut a shallow line down Chris’s cheek, causing Chris to gasp. “You see, I thought you were the hottest dyke around, beautiful even. Then I heard you were fucking somebody else.” She snorted in disgust and waved the bloody knife around. “The bitch probably thought you were beautiful, too.”

Chris refused to give Sky the satisfaction of seeing her pain and fear. Whatever drugs Sky had given her were wearing off fast. Her cheek stung like a bitch. She felt blood running down her neck and pooling between her breasts.

“Open your eyes, cunt!” Sky screamed and slapped Chris hard across her wounded cheek. “You’re going to watch me. I’m going to cut you so bad your fuck-toy won’t even recognize you when I’m done.”

Sky’s stinging slap made Chris tear up again. She blinked, but a few tears escaped and rolled down her face. While Sky ranted, she tried to move her hands and was profoundly relieved when she could move them a little.

As more feeling returned to her hands and arms, Chris realized she was secured with baling twine. She might be able to flex her wrists enough to tighten the knots, effectively loosening the twine to slip her hands free. Unfortunately, at this point she didn’t have the strength. She needed to buy some time.

“Sky, what do you want? Money? I have a lot.” Chris kept her voice steady with an effort, too stubborn to beg or plead. “Just tell me what you want, and we can work this out.”

Sky’s flat stare stole the rest of Chris’s words from her lips. Sky strode over to her and, without hesitation, used the knife to make a deep cut across her belly.

No longer numb, Chris screamed in pain and horror as her flesh gave way, blood streaming from the wound. Something bulged from the cut. Her terrified mind supposed it was a section of her intestines. Sickened, she looked aside, and her tears flowed freely.

Sky turned away, picked up the beer bottle, and took a swallow.

Oh, my God. She is going to kill me! Desperation lent her strength. Chris flexed the strong muscles in her arm and twisted her wrists against the twine. Did she just feel the knot tighten? She discreetly wiggled her hands and hoped Sky wouldn’t go behind her.

Yes! The binding was looser. Knowing this was the only way she might get out of the situation alive, Chris ignored the pain and continued to work the twine as subtly as possible as Sky finished the beer and carelessly tossed the bottle on the floor.

Chris increased pressure against the knot as Sky retrieved another beer from the refrigerator. Twisting her wrists a little, she worked the twine almost, but not quite, over the widest part of her hand. A bit more and she’d be free.

Sky returned to her, the beer bottle at her mouth as she walked. She stopped and cocked her head. Chris wondered if she was deciding where to use the knife next.

She met Sky’s gaze and willed her to keep looking at her so she wouldn’t notice anything suspicious.

“You know, Breeze, you always make me wet when you look at me with those baby blues.” Sky straddled Chris’s legs and sat down on her lap. Chris froze as Sky put the knife to her neck again and said huskily, “Kiss me. Kiss me like you mean it, Breeze.” She leaned in and roughly kissed Chris, bruising her lips.

Sky’s tongue forced its way into her mouth. The bitter flavor of beer reinforced Chris’s fear and disgust, but she had no choice except to kiss Sky back despite her feeling of violation. How could this be happening? How? When she was the happiest she’d ever been in her life?

Fresh tears coursed down Chris’s cheeks. She tasted salt on her lips when Sky broke away. Her captor didn’t seem to notice.

“Oh, lover, that was nice. I knew it would be like that to kiss you. Waiting made it that much better.” Sky stood up from Chris’s lap. “But now you made me horny. Now that you’re awake, how about we fuck for old time’s sake before I finish what I came here to do?” Grabbing Chris’s shirt at the shoulders, she yanked her out of the chair.

Chris moaned with the effort. Her stomach was on fire, and she felt a fresh stream of blood pouring down her thighs. Standing made her head spin. She unconsciously leaned against Sky for support. Her legs felt like jelly and threatened to give way.

Rolling her eyes at Chris’s unsteadiness, Sky impatiently tried to move her toward the cot, but Chris’s jeans had fallen to pool around her ankles. Chris caught Sky’s frustration, but she didn’t try to help.

Sky reached down and pulled Chris’s jeans and boxers up to her knees. Holding the garments in place, she shoved Chris toward the cot.

Chris struggled to remain conscious. Deep inside, she suspected if she passed out Sky would probably kill her at once.

When her knees hit the side of the cot, she managed to twist her body enough to fall on her side. Landing on her hands would make escape impossible, and if she went facedown on the cot, the pain from the open abdominal wound would probably make her lose consciousness.

Sky lay down next to Chris, and her expression softened. “I’ve wanted you like this for so long, Breeze.” She caressed Chris’s cheek.

Chris needed to hide her revulsion. She kept her eyes tightly closed as Sky’s hand traveled down to her breast. Bile burned in her throat when she felt Sky lean closer to suck on her nipple.

Try as she might, Chris could not escape what was happening to her. She wished her mind would take her to a different place and time, when Mary Jo was making love to her, making her laugh, making her happy. She had only started to live when Mary Jo walked into her life. That place became increasingly elusive, impossible to find with the pain Sky was inflicting on her.

Chris opened her eyes. “Sky, love, if you untie me, I’ll be able to touch you, too.” She hoped Sky would fall for it. If she could just get her hands free…

Sky had been lazily playing with Chris’s nipple. Now she glanced up, her eyes soft and dreamy, as if she weren’t aware of her surroundings or what she was doing. Chris wasn’t sure she even heard her.

Getting off the cot, Sky began to undress. When she was completely naked, she said, “If I untie you, will you make love to me?”

“Yes,” Chris said shakily, hoping to convey an arousal she didn’t feel.

Sky cut the baling twine from Chris’s wrists, oblivious to the looseness of the binding. “Don’t try anything. I wouldn’t want to have to kill you sooner than I wanted to.”

Chris didn’t dare react when she felt the blade carelessly slice her wrist. Her mind raced as she tried to come up with a plan. She had to buy herself time to find a way out, but she couldn’t risk leading Sky to the house where Mary Jo might be waiting unawares. To get the time she needed to think, she’d have to have sex with Sky.

Her hands free at last, her arm muscles stiff and screaming, she flexed her fingers to regain some feeling. She glanced at the new wound on her wrist to be sure Sky hadn’t cut anything deeper than skin.

Sky retracted the switchblade. Holding the weapon in her right hand as a silent warning, she resumed her place next to Chris. “Breeze, baby, make love to me.”

Hoping she didn’t reveal her loathing, Chris touched Sky’s breast.

Moaning deeply, Sky took Chris’s hand and forced it between her legs. “Do it. Touch me. Make me come like I did for you all those times.”

Having no choice, Chris moved her fingers over Sky’s clit. Although she had never touched the woman intimately in the past, she wasn’t really surprised to feel the stub of a piercing. Thankfully, in a few minutes that seemed to stretch into hours, she brought Sky to orgasm. Sky’s primal grunts and moans filled the office as she bucked wildly, riding Chris’s hand, then she took a deep breath, and suddenly relaxed.

Chris looked at Sky’s face. Her eyes were closed, her breathing even. Incredibly, Sky had fallen asleep, or passed out, from the combination of alcohol and whatever drugs she’d taken.

Hope flared inside Chris. She ignored the pain and pushed herself up with great care to a sitting position. As soon as her feet touched the floor, dizziness blurred her vision and made her head swim. She was on the verge of blacking out. Fighting through it, she breathed deeply, once, twice. When she could see more clearly, she put her hand over her belly to support her wound. Her nausea increased as she felt the bulge beneath her palm.

She stood up as carefully as possible. She could feel blood running—from her head, between her fingers, down her thighs, and from the countless nicks Sky had inflicted on her.

Although weak from blood loss, she made herself move. Her first thought was to kick off her pants, but her boots made it impossible to do it quickly. A slight moan escaped her lips as she bent over to pull her pants up. Daring to let go of her wounded stomach, she fastened her jeans as quickly as she could, taking care to keep them below the cut. Her slippery, bloody fingers made it near impossible to grab hold of the zipper tab.

As she stood somewhat hunched over, gasping for breath, Chris looked behind her to the wall where the emergency trigger button was mounted. It was located just inches from where Sky lay. Regrettably, she couldn’t risk moving past her assailant and accidentally waking her up. There would be no escape if Sky caught her so close.

Chris moved as quietly as she could to the door. She glanced back to make sure Sky was still asleep and opened it. She staggered out of the office and couldn’t decide where to go. She had no idea what time it was, and she wasn’t sure whether Mary Jo was home or not. She didn’t want to put the woman she loved in danger.

A scream exploded from the office. “You bitch!”

Chris reacted in panic and ran unsteadily down the aisle toward the foaling stalls, supporting herself with her free hand on the wall. Every wound burned and bled anew with the exertion.

She wiped the sweat from her eyes with a bloody hand that left wetness on her face. She forced herself to take deep breaths in an effort to stay conscious. When she reached the stall where Top Hat stood munching hay, she opened the door, went inside, and collapsed under the mare’s hayrack.

The horse snorted and showed the whites of her eyes. She paced around her stall on the verge of panic at the scent of Chris’s blood.

“Shh. It’s okay, girl. It’s only me,” Chris whispered.

Top Hat stopped and came close. She pawed at the straw, and her ears twitched, which Chris read as confusion. The big mare nuzzled Chris then backed against the wall with her ears pricked and tossed her head.

Chris closed her eyes and offered up a silent prayer to the gods. She pressed her hand firmly against her abdomen. Fresh blood was still seeping through her fingers, and she felt increasingly light-headed.

For a few minutes, she heard nothing. She leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes. Had Sky left, believing that having escaped, Chris would call for help? Panic filled her at the thought of Sky going up to her house, finding the dogs…

She heard a soft step, followed by quiet laughter. Sky. She’d lost.

When the stall door slid open, Chris struggled to get to her feet, determined she wasn’t going to go down without a fight. Then everything went black.

*   *   *

Mary Jo’s drive to Albany was uneventful, the traffic minimal until she reached the city, but she was able to find the Capitol courthouse without incident. Locating a parking spot turned out to be a bit of a challenge, but the parking goddess was with her and she finally found a spot within a block of the courthouse.

In the courtroom, she wasn’t surprised when the defendant pleaded not guilty to animal abuse. Her time on the stand was influential, and a sympathetic judge with a heavy gavel handed down a stiff fine as well as a sentence of ninety days in jail. In addition, the defendant had to remain under monthly supervision by the Humane Society to ensure he could never own another animal.

By the time the hearing adjourned, Mary Jo was starving. She opted to visit the courthouse cafeteria for a quick bite to eat before hitting the road.

Like all commercial cafeterias, ready-made food was displayed in grab cases, or she could stand in a long line and wait for a special order. She chose a pre-prepared salami sub, a bag of chips, and a bottle of water. After paying at the register, she turned to look for a place to sit. Suddenly she heard her name called. Glancing in the direction of the voice, she was pleasantly surprised.

“Dad!” She picked up her pace and went over to where her father sat eating macaroni and cheese. A can of Dr. Pepper was open in front of him.

He stood up and waited until Mary Jo put her tray on the table before giving her a big hug and kiss on the cheek.

“What are you doing here?” Mary Jo asked as they both sat.

“I had to meet a client here for a consult. More interesting would be the question of what you’re doing here?”

“I was the expert witness for an animal abuse case.” Mary Jo took a bite of her sandwich.

“Ah, I heard about that. Judge Evans has quite an opinion on those types.”

Mary Jo continued chatting with her father while they finished lunch. After agreeing to do his hotshot veterinarian daughter a favor, her father promised to see her soon and left. She knew it would be awhile before she saw him again.

Anxious to see Chris, she drove down the New York State Thruway in a great mood. She was almost home. Her day had gone better than she could’ve possibly hoped.

As soon as she drove through the tollbooth to take the Thruway ticket, Mary Jo dialed Chris’s farm number. She disconnected the call before the answering machine picked up. She called Chris’s cell phone, which went directly to voice mail.

“Damn it, Martel, I told you I would call you. The least you could do is keep your cell phone with you,” Mary Jo muttered and thumped the palm of her hand against the steering wheel in frustration.

At almost six o’clock, she turned onto the farm drive. No lights were obvious in the front of the house, so she glanced at the barn. “Huh, I guess Chris is in the back part of the house. Maybe she’s cooking.”

She rolled her eyes at the impossibility of Chris actually preparing a meal.

As she pulled in next to the farm truck, she wondered why it wasn’t in the garage. Chris was fastidious about putting the vehicle away.

She parked her truck, grabbed her purse from the passenger seat, and got out. As she neared the porch, she heard whining coming from the other side of the door, followed by impatient scratching and an urgent yip.

Confused, she opened the door. Cedar shot out with her hackles raised.

“Hey, there, what’s the matter?” Mary Jo let the door close. Cedar greeted her for a split second then raced to the barn. “What the hell is going on?”

Sensing something amiss, Mary Jo followed the Lab at a run, becoming decidedly more worried. Chris rarely went anywhere without the dogs. They followed her everywhere. A knot of worry formed and tightened her chest.

She lost sight of Cedar and paused when she got to the barn. Peering into the dark from the doorway, she heard only horse sounds.

She flipped on the lights. Hesitating a few seconds longer, she thought she heard Cedar’s faint bark from the back of the barn. Forcing herself to remain calm, she hurried down toward the office.

“Chris?” Mary Jo called. “Are you in here?” The silence was deafening.

She stopped in front of the office. Oddly, the door was ajar. That increased her uneasiness. Chris always kept it closed and locked if she wasn’t at her desk.

Mary Jo took a quick look inside. Her heart stopped when she saw the bloodied floor.

“Oh, my God, Chris? Where are you?” Her frantic gaze swept the room. She glanced down and saw more blood at her feet. There seemed to be a trail of dark red drops. She followed the trail outside the office and heard Cedar bark a second time.

Her heart threatened to hammer out of her chest. She ran toward the sound, keeping an eye on the blood trail that led down the aisle to the foaling stalls. She found Cedar scratching and jumping up and down in front of a stall door.

“Oh, my God, that’s Hattie’s stall!” Could the mare have attacked Chris?

Mary Jo ran the last few yards to Cedar. The Lab whined and paced and kept jumping up to put her paws on the stall door.

Taking a deep breath, Mary Jo eased the door open a crack, afraid of what she might find. The sight chilled her to the core: a blood-soaked Chris lay facedown in the middle of the stall, clearly trampled by the horse’s hooves.

A sob escaped Mary Jo as she opened the stall door more fully. “Oh, God, no.”

The instant the door was wide enough, Cedar pushed through past her. Mary Jo followed, tears running down her face. To her surprise, Cedar didn’t go to Chris. Instead, she ran in the opposite direction, toward the hayrack.

Mary Jo stopped short in the doorway when she realized the person lying in the straw wasn’t Chris. She didn’t know who it was, just that they appeared to be dead.

Top Hat stood against the back wall of the stall with her ears pinned and gnashing her teeth, but to Mary Jo’s relief, the mare wasn’t focused on her.

She talked softly and tried to sound more confident than she felt as she slowly eased her way inside the stall.

Top Hat mock charged her then withdrew as Mary Jo crooned, “Easy. Easy girl. I won’t hurt you.” She continued talking in a low, quiet voice as she slid her way along the wall toward the hayrack and Cedar. Thankfully, the black mare didn’t charge again. Top Hat remained in the back of the stall, sweating and twitching nervously.

Mary Jo couldn’t see much other than Chris’s outstretched legs until she pushed Cedar aside. Chris sat slumped forward in the corner, unconscious and covered in blood. “Oh, my God, Chris.” Mary Jo fell to her knees next to Chris’s head. Cedar bumped against her and whined.

She reached for Chris’s neck and checked for a pulse. It was there, weak but constant. She pushed Chris’s shoulders in an effort to lean her against the wall to ease her breathing. When she got Chris solidly upright, she was horrified by the knife wound in her abdomen.

Urgency beat at her. She hurried to open the stall door and said, “Cedar, rawhide. Quick. Rawhide.” Once the Lab disappeared out the door, Mary Jo returned to Chris’s side. She pulled her jacket off and pressed it to Chris’s seeping wound to staunch the bleeding.

Chris moaned, almost inaudibly.

The other injured person forgotten, Mary Jo focused on her lover. “Chris, can you hear me? Oh, baby, I’m here. Help is on the way.” She sobbed and wiped her tears with a bloodied hand, hoping her words were true. “I love you, Martel, so don’t even think about leaving me.”

Mary Jo wasn’t sure whether Chris heard her or not, but she had to believe Chris would be okay. She needed to believe.

After what seemed an interminable amount of time, Mary Jo heard sirens in the distance. “Babe, help is coming. You need to stay with me. Please, I can’t live without you, Chris. Please try and stay with me.” Tears ran in a steady stream down her face.

When she heard voices in the barn, she yelled, “In here! Please hurry.”

Reluctantly getting up, she quickly reached outside the stall for a halter and lead before moving to Top Hat. Sensing the horse’s nervousness, she approached with care and laid a hand on her neck. Top Hat visibly relaxed. Mary Jo slipped the halter over the horse’s head and tied her to the wall ring.

Mary Jo closed her eyes in relief. She silently thanked the mare for behaving and Chris for the exercise they’d done earlier in the day. God, that seemed like ages ago. She swallowed hard in an effort to keep from vomiting as she surveyed the scene around her. She could handle the worst blood and guts scenario when it came to animals, but if the situation involved a human, all bets were off.

Cedar suddenly bolted through the partially opened stall door, followed by two EMTs and two police officers. Top Hat remained standing in place, even when Mary Jo left her to join Chris. The mare’s ears flicked back and forth, but she didn’t show signs of lashing out. The horse looked absolutely exhausted and was covered in dried sweat on her neck and sides.

Mary Jo wondered whether the exhaustion came from the stress of smelling Chris’s blood or from what Top Hat had done to the person lying in the straw. Probably both, if she had to guess. It would be a miracle if Hattie didn’t lose the foal because of this.

“Can you tell us what happened?” an EMT asked as he approached.

“No. I came home and found them like this.” Mary Jo read the nametag pinned to his shirt: Mark. The other EMT’s nametag read Dave.

“Do you know who that is?” Mark pointed at the other victim with his chin.

“I… no… I’ve never seen him before.”

Mark squatted down to assess Chris’s condition.

Dave knelt next to the person lying facedown in the middle of the stall. After attaching a cervical collar, he and Mark carefully flipped the body over and onto a backboard. Mary Jo glanced up and realized the trampling victim was a woman. She bit her lip when she saw a bloody knife slip from the woman’s hand.

She refocused her attention on Chris. Mark returned to take Chris’s vitals with experienced efficiency and inserted a needle into her arm to begin an IV drip. He taped sterile packing, damp with antibiotics and sterile water, onto Chris’s abdomen.

“I’m ready to transport this one,” Mark said. “She’s critical. What do you have over there, Dave?”

“Severe head trauma, pupils are fixed and unresponsive, may be internal injuries. Pulse is weak. She’s lucky to be alive. Let me finish hooking up this IV, and I’ll be ready to transport.”

Mary Jo sprang to her feet. “You’ve got to take Chris first.”

“Miss, calm down. We can take both of them at the same time,” Mark said.

“I’m riding in the ambulance with her.”

“I’m sorry, only family members can ride in the back.”

“She has no other family! She’s my partner,” Mary Jo said through gritted teeth.

“All right,” Dave said. “But you’ll have to sit in the front. Let’s move.”

The police officers, who until then had been silent, moved out of the way as the paramedics shifted Chris to a gurney and wheeled her out of the stall and down the aisle.

When Mary Jo began to follow the gurney, one of the officers tried to stop her. “Miss, we have some questions we need to ask.”

Mary Jo abruptly pushed past him and called over her shoulder, “Ask me when we get to the hospital.”

While Chris was being loaded into the ambulance and stabilized, Mary Jo called Cedar to her and put the Lab in the house to join Cagney and Sadie, who met them at the door.

“Stay here, girls,” Mary Jo said. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She closed the door and ran to the waiting ambulance.

Chapter 26

Chris deliberately kept her eyes closed when she felt the restraints on her wrists. She couldn’t let Sky know she was awake. If she did, the cutting would continue. Her entire body hurt like hell, and she wondered how long she’d been unconscious. She didn’t know how much more torture she could take before it was finally over.

Sensing movement to her left, Chris involuntarily flinched. When she felt a hand on her shoulder, she panicked and wrestled against the bindings. She needed to get away before Sky had a chance finish her off.

As she flailed, rocking her injured body back and forth, she could hear Sky saying her name over and over. She opened her blurry eyes for a split second and imagined the knife’s silver flash as it finished disemboweling her.

“Chris. Baby, stay still or you’ll rip your stitches,” a soft, calm voice said close by. “Sweetheart, you’re safe now.”

Chris stopped thrashing and blinked as the face above her came into focus. Breathing hard, she dropped back onto the hospital bed, her face wet with sweat.

“Cav?” she asked, her voice barely above a whispered rasp. Her tongue felt pasted to the roof of her mouth, and her lips were dry and cracked.

“I’m right here, sweetheart. Welcome back.” Mary Jo’s voice sounded choked by emotion. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks. She squeezed Chris’s hand in both of hers.

“Is she awake?” an unfamiliar female voice asked.

Nodding, Mary Jo looked toward the hospital room door.

Chris heard the soft pad of sneakers as an unknown woman approached her bed.

“Hello, Chris. I’m Doctor Megan Ross.” The woman in blue surgical scrubs was tall and lean, with brown eyes and shoulder-length brown hair. “I just got out of surgery and thought I’d stop by to see if you were awake yet.” She picked up a chart from the foot of Chris’s bed, made a note, and put it down. “How are you feeling? Any pain? Nausea?” She pulled a light from her pocket to check Chris’s eyes.

“I’ve felt better after getting thrown from a horse,” Chris replied roughly.

Mary Jo laughed, as did the doctor.

“I’m sure you have,” Dr. Ross said.

The concern in Mary Jo’s expression worried Chris. “Can we untie her now?” Mary Jo asked.

“I don’t see why not.” Dr. Ross removed the restraints. “You have a few IVs in you, so try and keep your arms still and flat, okay?”

For the first time, Chris noticed the tubes running from both arms. The needle in her right arm was hooked to a blood transfusion pack. The other connected to a labeled bag of saline and amoxicillin. A machine that administered morphine also connected to her IV set. A line from a heart monitor disappeared into the top of her gown where the electrode was stuck to her chest.

“Am I going to die?” Chris asked, partly joking and mostly serious.

Mary Jo shook her head. “Good God, I hope not. I’ll kill you myself if you ever worry me like that again.”

“No, Chris you’re going to be fine,” Dr. Ross said, the warmth in her expression reassuring. “You gave us quite a scare, though. Your heart stopped beating twice while you were in surgery to repair your abdominal wound. You lost quite a lot of blood. We’ve pumped in several units since you’ve been here. We’ll run some more tests, but you should have a full recovery. It’s good you’re as fit as you are. An average person might not have survived the trauma you experienced.”

Chris worried there might be permanent physical limitations, but she was relieved by the soft look in Mary Jo’s eyes. She wordlessly returned her attention to Dr. Ross.

“I’ll come around later, and we can discuss your discharge and aftercare,” Dr. Ross said. “You two probably have a lot to talk about. Mary Jo, Chris can have ice chips for now, and if she keeps them down, a small amount of water later tonight.” She nodded at Chris and walked out of the room.

“That doctor’s got the hots for you,” Mary Jo teased as she placed an ice chip between Chris’s chapped lips.

Chris snorted a laugh and then cringed. “Ah, God that hurt.”

“I’m sorry,” Mary Jo said. After a beat, she added, “Not really. It’s just so wonderful to see your smile again.” She wiped her wet eyes with the back of her hand. “I can’t stop crying. I’m so relieved to know you’re going to be all right.”

Chris closed her eyes and cautiously took a deep breath. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” She sniffed. Suddenly, her eyes opened wide in alarm. “Are Hattie and the dogs okay? I don’t remember anything after I heard Sky come into Hattie’s stall.”

“Babe, everybody is fine,” Mary Jo reassured her. “The police know who did this to you. Her name’s Cindy Jenkins.”

“I know her as Sky. She’s the same one who beat the crap out of me last fall.”

“Fucking bitch.”

“Yeah.” Chris’s eyelids grew heavy. “Tell me what happened.”

“Later. You need to sleep. Rest assured everything at the farm is fine.”

“‘Okay.” Chris’s eyes fluttered closed.

“Frances and I have been making out just fine,” she heard Mary Jo say, the voice coming to her as if from a distance. “But you better come home soon because I’m going to get fat from all the cooking she’s been doing at your house.”

Chris felt a brush against her cheek—Mary Jo’s kiss. As she drifted off, Mary Jo’s whisper sounded like music to her ears. “I love you, Martel.”

*   *   *

Chris woke with a start. The room was almost dark. The light coming from the hallway projected eerie shadows on the walls. She wondered what time it was.

Regular beeping from the heart monitor broke the silence, as did the hushed swish of a nurse’s shoes as she passed the doorway.

She made an effort to raise her head, looked toward the door, and noticed a sleeping form in the visitor’s chair. “Frances?” She moved her tongue in her mouth to gather spit so she could talk. “Frances, is that you?”

Frances sat up and rubbed her neck before she came to stand at Chris’s bedside. “Hey, sweetie, how are you feeling?” she asked.

“Like a herd of horses ran me over.”

Frances laughed softly. “I bet. Mary Jo said you were awake earlier, so when she went back to the farm, I drove in.”

“Are you staying at my farm?”

“Yes. Your poor pups are all in a tizzy, Cedar especially. She’s been moping ever since Mary Jo came home without you three days ago. I brought Daisy over hoping it would help. Mary Jo got them to eat, but just barely.”

“Three days?”

“Oh, honey, yeah.” Frances took Chris’s hand in hers. “You’ve been unconscious for most of it. Mary Jo and I have been taking turns coming here so somebody is always with you, and the other is at the farm.”

“I’m sorry.” Tears stung Chris’s eyes. She felt so guilty for putting Frances and Mary Jo, the two most important people in her life, through all that had happened.

“Why, for heaven’s sakes? You have nothing to be sorry about.” Frances pulled a tissue from the box on the bed table and gently wiped Chris’s tears.

“I had no idea going to the bar would come to this,” Chris said, closing her eyes. “I can’t remember anything that happened after I made it to Hattie’s stall.”

“Chris, honey, you just concentrate on healing and coming home, okay?”

Eyes still closed, Chris felt the numb edge of sleep overtake her again. She managed to nod her head in agreement before she succumbed to her exhaustion.

Once Chris had awakened, and after the police had taken crime scene photos as well as evidence, Mary Jo and Frances spent the better part of a day straightening up and cleaning the office free from blood and debris. They didn’t rest until they had erased most of the signs of Sky’s destructive attack.

Three mornings later, Chris sat on the edge of the bed waiting for her discharge from the hospital. Thankfully, they’d removed the heart monitor the day before. She was so sick of the incessant beeping and longed for the sounds of home and the farm.

The nurse had pulled her IVs earlier, leaving her with a yellow gauze wrap on each arm. Jeez, my arms look like a druggie’s with all these bruises and pokes, she thought. Her abdomen was wrapped snuggly, but for the most part, it wasn’t painful anymore. The various other cuts that Sky had inflicted on her were either superficial or held together by butterfly bandages.

She’d just about given up on getting out of the hospital sometime this century when Dr. Ross, Mary Jo, and Frances walked in at the same time.

Chris sat up straighter. “Thank God. I thought I was going to grow old waiting for you guys.”

Mary Jo sighed. “Yup, you’re feeling better.” She turned to Dr. Ross. “She’s like a caged cat, and it’s making her snippy.”

“I can vouch for that,” Frances said.

“Well, we’ll definitely let you out of here today, Chris.” Dr. Ross’s voice took on a more serious tone. “But on one condition. You are not to do any lifting for at least two months. I want to see you at my office in two weeks to check your wound. Is that clear?”

Chris rolled her eyes and sighed. “I guess.”

“She’ll be good. We’ll make sure of it. Right, Frances?” Mary Jo asked.

Frances nodded. “Right.”

“Come on, you guys. I’ll be good as new in a few weeks,” Chris said, though she knew she was complaining to deaf ears.

“Careful, babe,” Mary Jo warned, “or I’ll talk the doctor into three months.”

Frances chuckled.

“In your work, three months would be optimal,” Dr. Ross said, looking thoughtful.

“What? No way,” Chris said. “I can’t sit still for that long. I’ll go crazy.” Feeling the weight of three pairs of staring eyes, she relented. “God damn it. All right. Two months. That’s all I can promise.”

“Good. It looks as though you’ll be in good hands.” Dr. Ross handed her a clipboard and pen.

Chris chuffed out a frustrated breath. “Two freaking months. Jesus,” she muttered.

Dr. Ross plucked the clipboard out of her hands. “Let’s get your discharge paperwork done, and you’re out of here.”

*   *   *

When they arrived home and opened the door to the house, the dogs rushed to Chris. She carefully crouched down to hug them close and murmured words of endearment. Neither the Labs nor Sadie would leave her side since, insisting on constant contact.

Frances took Daisy home to do her own chores, and Chris sat with the three dogs crowding the couch with her. Mary Jo had no choice but to sit in the chair opposite.

Chris sat with her head back, her eyes closed, and both hands buried in Cedar’s and Cagney’s coats. Despite Mary Jo’s objections, a smug Sadie lay on Chris’s lap. “I am so looking forward to sleeping in my own bed tonight,” she said to Mary Jo, opening her eyes. “You’ll stay, right?”

“Of course I’ll stay. If you think Frances or I trust you not to go out and do chores, you’re crazy.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Doctor’s orders.” Mary Jo grew silent, and a frown creased her face.

Chris felt uneasy. “What? Is something wrong?”

“Actually, yes. You haven’t said a word about what happened. It’s like you just want to forget Sky assaulted you, and go on with your life.”

Chris shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny. “So? Do you know what happened to her?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. And I’ve been keeping close tabs on her to make sure she doesn’t ever come near you again. After the doctors came to the conclusion that she was going to live, a police officer was assigned to stand guard outside her room. When they think she’s well enough, they’re going to formally arrest and charge her. She’ll be transferred to a holding center to await arraignment and trial.”

Chris moved Sadie off her lap, got up, and walked into the kitchen to pour a glass of water. Before she put the glass to her lips, she said, “I feel sorry for her.”

Over the half-wall, Chris saw Mary Jo’s mouth drop open. “Are you serious?” she asked in obvious shock. “Jesus Christ, Chris, she damn near killed you!”

“I feel responsible for what she did. I feel like maybe I led her on at the bar.” Chris stood at the sink, feeling like the half-wall wasn’t the only barrier between her and Mary Jo.

“Oh, and the fact that she beat you up at the bar is forgivable, too? Chris, be reasonable. Please. I love you, and if anything ever happened to you again, I’m not sure I could take it,” Mary Jo said, joining her at the sink.

Chris stiffened when Mary Jo’s arms came around her waist. “Nothing will happen. I promise.” The warmth of the embrace gradually relaxed her. She drew Mary Jo closer and kissed her cheek. “I’m sorry. I have this irritating habit of avoiding conflict. I’d rather ignore what happened and get on with our life together. I do love you. Just tell me what I should do, and I will.”

“There’ll be a trial, and I’m sure you’ll be called as a witness. I’ll call my dad and see if he thinks we need an attorney. I’m sure he’ll say yes, if only to keep tabs on what happens with Sky.” Mary Jo pulled her cell phone from her pocket

“If your dad is anywhere near as protective as you are, I’m sure I’ll like him,” Chris said. She smiled when she was rewarded with a kiss.

*   *   *

Since she’d been home, Chris insisted on accompanying Mary Jo to the barn despite the fact she wasn’t allowed to do anything. Most of the time, Chris and the dogs headed into the office, made coffee, and worked on the seemingly endless mountain of paperwork that continued piling up on the desk.

A week after Chris’s homecoming, Mary Jo managed to slip from their bed unnoticed. The sound of deep breathing assured her she hadn’t disturbed Chris’s sleep. She picked up a pair of jeans from the floor, slipped into them, and pulled on a long-sleeved shirt. Most of her clothing had somehow migrated over to Chris’s house.

“I’m going to have to do laundry soon, or I’ll run out of clothes,” she said under her breath.

She signaled the dogs to follow and closed the bedroom door.

When the dogs finished their breakfast, Mary Jo headed to the barn, a mug of coffee in her hand. The morning was bright and cool with just the hint of a breeze. Most of the horses had spent the night outside. As they saw her approaching the barn, they calmly headed to their stalls. Since Top Hat was in the foaling stall, Mary Jo was pleased to hear no announcement of her arrival.

She went about the morning chores, having fallen into the routine weeks ago.

Frances arrived every day at eight after completing her own chores. It was getting increasingly difficult to keep Chris from exerting herself. More than once, Mary Jo had caught her casually picking up a manure fork. She knew it was force of habit, but Chris kept her and Frances busy with the need to watch her every move.

When Frances and Daisy arrived later, Mary Jo would have to leave for work. No wonder she was tired all time. The scare of almost losing her lover to a crazy, drugged out lunatic made her want to stay as close to Chris as possible.

After graining all the horses down the main aisle way, she strolled toward the foaling stalls, softly humming a tune. The bucket of feed in her hand bumped against her thigh in time with the melody.

Stunned by surprise, she stopped and fell silent when she looked into the stall. A bay colt was asleep in the straw.

Top Hat stepped up to the grain bin and nickered at her.

“Well, look at you, girl. What a pretty little boy you have there.” Mary Jo lifted the bucket, but just before the grain spilled into the feedbin, she caught sight of the remnants of a bran mash. “Son of a bitch, I’m going to kill her.”

Sighing heavily, she noticed the afterbirth in the bucket beside the stall. “Martel, you are in such big trouble.”

Mary Jo now knew the reason Chris was still sleeping so soundly. She had undoubtedly snuck out in the middle of the night, delivered the foal, and snuck back into bed. Mary Jo shook her head in frustration, gave the mare some hay, and walked into the stall. Top Hat no longer made her nervous. She and the mare had made peace the day Chris was assaulted.

Disinterested, Top Hat munched hay and made no move to intervene as Mary Jo examined the colt.

Satisfied mare and baby were healthy, Mary Jo cleaned the stall and left. There was only a little manure in the other stalls, and she took care of it. She quickly returned to the house and made no attempt to be quiet when she entered. She let the door slam and dropped her boots with two loud thuds. The dogs ran up the stairs to the bedroom. Fuming at Chris for her midnight antics, Mary Jo made no effort to stop them.

She poured herself another cup of coffee, and a second one for Chris, and ascended the stairs. The bedroom door never closed tight, so she had no doubt that the dogs had woken Chris.

“Serves her right,” she mumbled, hearing grumbling. She put the extra mug on the nightstand and leaned against the doorway while she waited for Chris to notice her.

Chris yawned and stretched like a cat. She was naked except for the dressing around her abdomen. Mary Jo’s heart clenched every time she saw the wounds on Chris’s body. She and Chris hadn’t made love since the attack. While she missed the intimacy, she knew her lover had to heal. She made herself be satisfied with curling up in Chris’s arms at night. Chris would let her know when she was ready.

Turning her head towards the steaming coffee, Chris blinked and wiped the sleep from her eyes. “Oh, babe, thanks.” She tried and failed to stifle another yawn.

“Out late last night, were we?” Mary Jo kept her voice stone cold.

“Um.”

“Don’t ‘um’ me. You knew Hattie was going to foal last night, didn’t you?” Mary Jo didn’t give Chris time to answer. “Why the hell didn’t you wake me? You think you’re so damned invincible. What if you’d gotten hurt again?” She swiped at the angry tears in her eyes. “Well? Why can’t you let the people who love you, help you? Damn it, Chris, I am so mad at you right now I could just—”

“Move in with me?” Chris interrupted quietly.

Unheeding, Mary Jo paced around the room, throwing misplaced clothing in a pile. “You’ll never, ever learn, will you? We’ve gone round and round, but no, do you listen? No. God forbid you think about how I feel about you doing something as stupid as that little maneuver you pulled last night.”

“Move in with me.”

“What?” Mary Jo stopped her rant, certain she hadn’t heard right either the first or second time Chris had spoken.

“Most of your clothes are here anyway. You’re here in my bed almost every night. Move in with me and make this your home. Our home.”

“Arrgh.” Mary Jo resisted the temptation to thump her head against the door molding. “Why do you make it so difficult to stay mad at you?”

“Well? Will you?” Chris rolled onto her side and leaned up on an elbow.

“Yes, but I’m still mad at you.” Mary Jo sat on the edge of the bed and let Chris yank her down. “Careful, I don’t want to hurt you.” She pulled Chris into an embrace as she swung her feet up and lay next to her. She looked into the eyes that, just a few weeks ago, she’d been so scared of never getting lost in again. “Are you sure?”

Chris kissed her with confidence. “Yes. Absolutely.”

Chapter 27

“Why won’t you tell me where we’re going?” Chris asked for what seemed like the thousandth time.

Mary Jo let out an exaggerated sigh. “I told you, we’re going to visit a good friend of mine. I’ve told her all about you, and she’s anxious to see you.” She glanced over at Chris and noted the slight frown. “Don’t worry, babe, you’ll love her.” Feeling smug, she settled further into the driver’s seat and steered the truck eastbound on the New York State Thruway to Albany.

Three weeks had passed since Chris had come home from the hospital, and Mary Jo deemed her fit enough for a little day trip. When Frances agreed to hold down the fort at home, Mary Jo had persuaded Chris to head out with her after breakfast.

Doc and Donna had been extremely generous in allowing her to take time off whenever she needed until Chris was back on her feet again. To say she would be forever indebted to them was an understatement.

“Have your landlords found a renter for your apartment yet?” Chris asked, absently rubbing the top of Cedar’s head.

Ever since the assault, Mary Jo noticed, the dogs were especially clingy. At times they got frustratingly underfoot, but she and Frances forgave them.

On the other hand, Cedar’s protectiveness was more marked. The Lab seemed obsessed with the need to have some part of her body in contact with Chris. When Mary Jo and Chris got in the truck earlier, Cedar had jumped onto the front seat and refused to move. As soon as Chris got in, she lay down with her head on Chris’s lap.

At the moment, Sadie and Cagney were sleeping contentedly in the back.

“Yup. Their son,” she said, in answer to Chris’s question. “He came home from Iraq and needs a place of his own, so it seemed logical that he live there.” Reaching over Cedar, she rested her hand on Chris’s thigh, next to the dog’s head. Like the dog, she always wanted to touch some part of Chris’s body.

Chris put her hand on top of Mary Jo’s and gave it a squeeze. “I love you, you know? I never in a million years dreamed I could be as happy as I am right at this minute.”

Mary Jo glanced at her lover and grinned. Chris’s face and neck had almost healed. The plastic surgeon had done a fabulous job of repairing the skin. Other than a thin pale line, the scars would be imperceptible over time. However, Chris’s abdomen wasn’t so lucky. Mary Jo’s smile faded. Chris would always sport a wide scar because the wound had been open for several hours.

Mary Jo saw the exit sign coming into view ahead. She’d have to exit the Thruway in about a mile and then hope she could find their destination without getting lost. She’d only traveled in this area a few times.

A moment later, Chris closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. Mary Jo stayed calm. Chris still tired from small tasks, but her appetite had returned with a vengeance.

Mary Jo recalled the first time she had seen Chris eat a meal, still amazed she could pack away so much food in so short a time and still have a body like that.

Her mind drifted to how nice Chris’s naked body had felt against hers when she woke up that morning. There had been no space between them as Chris spooned against her, an arm curled around her waist, a hand tucked under her breast. Each of Chris’s gentle breaths had caressed her ear. With their legs entwined, it had been difficult not to be aroused when Chris’s pubic curls brushed against her buttocks. Chris’s lips had rested on the back of her neck as she slept…

Shit, I almost missed the exit. Mary Jo signaled and slowed down to a legal speed as she entered the sharp curve of the exit ramp. A glance at her passenger told her Chris was still asleep. Cagney and Sadie stood up to look around and then disappeared from sight as they lay back down.

Mary Jo drove through nine traffic lights and passed fast food restaurants and businesses on both sides. A sign identified the road she was looking for. She took a right-hand turn into a semi-residential area. A few minutes later, she pulled into the visitor’s parking lot for the Adirondack Village.

Mary Jo gently shook Chris’s shoulder. “Babe, we’re here.”

Chris yawned and stretched her cramped muscles. She kept her movements tentative for fear of pulling a stomach muscle. Despite frequent trips to see her doctors, this was the longest trip she’d taken in the truck for a while.

Cedar sat up and yawned as well. Chris sympathized. She would have much rather stayed in bed instead of getting up at the crack of dawn and taking off on some sort of secret road trip.

Though taking things easy for the past few weeks had been challenging at best, Chris found she enjoyed slowing down a little. Last night, long after Mary Jo had fallen asleep, she lay in bed with her eyes wide open and listened to the familiar sounds around their home: creaks as the wind blew against the south side of the house, snoring dogs, coyotes in the distance, and tree frogs.

“Where are we?” Chris asked through another yawn, her eyes heavy with sleep.

Mary Jo ignored her question, got out of the truck, and walked to the passenger side. She opened the door and gave Chris a hand out. When her feet were on the ground, Mary Jo threaded her arm through Chris’s and led her to Building 3, Apartment B.

With Mary Jo at her side, Chris walked up three cement steps and stood on a stone pad made from red and white landscape bricks. Feeling uncomfortable, she turned away from the door. Farm visitors usually focused more on the horses, not her. She didn’t mind the interaction when talking business because she was not the center of her guest’s attention, but standing here made her itch to be away.

While Chris fidgeted, Mary Jo rang the doorbell. “Will you stand still?” She playfully punched Chris’s arm.

“I can’t help it,” Chris said. “You know how I am with meeting new people sometimes.”

“Uh-huh, yeah, I know.”

“I’ll go check on the dogs and make sure the windows are down far enough.” She barely got down the first step before Mary Jo grabbed her arm.

“No, you won’t. The dogs are fine. It’s cool out, I parked in the shade, and there’s a nice breeze.”

Shit. There goes that excuse. Chris felt like bolting. She was in an unfamiliar place waiting to meet an unfamiliar person. Gnawing her lower lip, she stuffed her hands into her pockets and felt horribly self-conscious. The cuts on her face, though healed, remained very visible in her mind.

The door behind her opened. Taking a deep breath, Chris turned around to be polite, aware of Mary Jo’s reassuring, loving smile.

“Chris?” a familiar voice asked.

Chris’s gaze shot to the door. Tears immediately filled her eyes as she stared at the old woman standing in the doorway. “Gram? Oh, my God, Gram!” She pulled her grandmother into her arms and held her tight. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mary Jo wipe tears from her cheeks. She mouthed “Thank you,” and “I love you.” Never in her wildest dreams had she thought she’d someday be reunited with the only real family member she’d ever loved, and the only one who’d ever loved her in return.

Chris released Gram and beamed at her. She wiped her eyes and said, “I have so much to tell you.”

Gram patted Chris’s arm. “Never you mind. We have all kinds of time for that now.” She reached for Mary Jo and pulled her close in a hug.

Chris wrapped her arms around the two of them. “I love you both so much,” she said. Her soul had found peace at last.

Author Laurie Salzler       Photo Credit: Sue Culig Photography

About the Author

Laurie Salzler holds a degree in Natural Resources Conservation and Outdoor Recreation. She has worked with and around animals all her life, including several years in the equine industry at training and breeding facilities in New York, Pennsylvania, and Michigan. She is an avid outdoor enthusiast, whose activities include horseback riding, hiking, snowshoeing, dog sledding, and photography. One of her favorite activities is walking with her pack of canines. Laurie lives in western New York with her partner and their five dogs, four horses, and numerous other critters.

A Kiss Before Dawn is her first novel, and she is currently hard at work on several more stories.

Also by Laurie Salzler, coming soon from Blue Feather Books:

Right Out of Nowhere

Roni Oatman belongs to a crew that conducts Search and Rescue Operations for the Forestry Service deep in the Bitterroot Mountains of Idaho. They save lost people, but Roni is a bit lost herself. She’s a loner, who loves a woman she can’t have. Rather than dwell on what is out of reach, she buries herself in her work—or in her other business of training horses. Which, to her chagrin, isn't going so smoothly, either.

When the SAR crew is short a member, Selena Ayala is assigned to fill the empty spot. Still on the rebound from a sudden breakup with her girlfriend, Selena has issues of her own. But she has to find a way to gain the crew’s trust, and gain it quickly. Often the missions in this rugged and unyielding wilderness are matters of life and death, and the SAR members have to be able to depend on each other.

Just when Roni and Selena are forming a tentative friendship, Selena’s ex shows up, leaving both Selena and Roni with uneasy questions. Can the two women search deep within to rescue themselves and to find love right out of nowhere?

Coming soon, only from

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Table of Contents

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

About the Author

Also by Laurie Salzler, coming soon from Blue Feather Books:

Make sure to check out these other exciting Blue Feather Books titles:

Table of Contents

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

About the Author

Also by Laurie Salzler, coming soon from Blue Feather Books:

Make sure to check out these other exciting Blue Feather Books titles: