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Regan eased Toffee to a halt and dismounted as Madison walked toward her, carrying a sheaf of papers in one hand and a cell phone in the other.
“He’s coming along,” Regan agreed, rubbing the gelding’s forehead. She’d spent a good forty-five minutes working him over both ground poles and a series of foot-high jumps, talking to him with her hands and her body and teaching him to yield to her cues.
“He likes the work,” Madison commented. “You used to show jump, didn’t you?”
“How’d you know?”
“After watching you ride a few times, I figured you had to have been in competition somewhere, so I Googled you.”
“I see.” Regan wasn’t sure that she liked being Googled.
“Do you have any plans to compete again?”
Regan smiled as she slipped the reins over Toffee’s head. He pushed her with his nose, nearly knocking her off balance. It was getting to be a habit. She put her hand on his nose and firmly pushed his head away before turning her attention back to Madison.
“Those days are long gone. I just want to ride for my own pleasure.” She started leading the horse toward the gate as she spoke, fighting to keep him from crowding her space. “Kind of a sanity saver, you know?” she said through gritted teeth, wishing Madison wasn’t there to witness the power struggle. When she was on Toffee’s back, there was no question as to who was in control. On the ground, he had both the height and the weight advantage, and he used them. He was very disrespectful.
“You might consider teaching a jumping class,” Madison said, eyeing the horse as she opened the gate for Regan, but saying nothing about the obvious. “People would be interested and I like to offer a variety of classes here at the arena.”
Regan gave a brief nod. She wouldn’t mind teaching a class, once she was settled into her real job. It would be a good way to meet people who didn’t have kids in school.
“All you have to do is book the times with me, charge the fees set on the arena rate chart and give the arena thirty percent of the proceeds.”
“Is that all?” Regan replied, thinking it sounded like highway robbery, since she’d seen the rate schedule.
“You’d have access to the jumps and all the other equipment, and I’d put you on the calendar of events, which goes out in the newspaper and over the radio.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“You know,” Madison said as they reached the stall, “I’m putting on a training clinic next weekend. You’ve seen the advertisements, haven’t you? Del Gilbert and Will Bishop?”
It was impossible not to see them. They had appeared that morning and were plas-tered all over town—the grocery store, the post office, even the school.
“You, uh, might consider going.” Madison shoved the cell phone into her pocket and handed Regan yet another paper advertising the event. “I give a ten percent discount to people who board with me. All you have to do is bring this paper with you. There’s a discount code stamped on the bottom.”
“Thanks,” Regan said. “I had planned on going.” She’d never seen anyone start a horse from the ground up and she’d heard enough about Will’s abilities to be curious.
“It’s worth the fee,” Madison replied. Regan had a feeling she could have said she’d like to watch the tractor till the arena and Madison would have told her it was worth the fee.
“There’s something else. I was wondering how much longer you plan to board Toffee here. I’m getting calls from people who want a stall and I’m full up.”
“The fence was finished yesterday—just in time for the windstorm to bring a big branch down on top of it. I need to have the wire tightened again before I can bring him home.”
“Well, it shouldn’t take long to do that.” Madison spoke confidently, making Regan believe she’d never worked with contractors. “I’ll call Trev or Will about doing a brand inspection and make arrangements for one of them to haul Toffee to your house whenever they’re available.” Madison waved at a person who’d just walked in the stable door and then turned her attention back to Regan. “You don’t have a trailer, yet. Right?”
“Not yet. Do you think they’d mind hauling for me?”
Madison shook her head no.
“Great. I’ll pay them, of course. But I won’t be available on a weekday until after school hours.”
“When is that? Three o’clock?”
“Better make it four.” She knew Pete wouldn’t bend the rules for her and let her leave a little early.
“I’ll give you a call.”
“Thanks.”
Madison smiled a nice-to-do-business-with-you smile before walking down the aisle between the stalls, slipping clinic discount flyers under each of the nameplates.
Regan pulled her stall door open and Toffee all but walked over her in his hurry to get to his hay. She firmly smacked his chest with the flat of her hand. “No,” she told him. He stopped and let her take off the halter. As he walked away, Regan leaned against the edge of the door frame, admiring his lines and gleaming coat and wondering how on earth she was going to get him to respect her. She’d never handled a horse with no manners before and she knew she needed to do something about it.
With luck, the clinic would give her a place to start.
BY THE NEXT DAY it was obvious that, although Pete hadn’t fully given up on his squid-related prankster hunt, he was winding down. He stalked around the school scowling, almost a defeated man. But then, just after lunch, he received an ego boost of such massive proportions that it had to be shared with the staff in an emergency after-school meeting.
“This feels bad,” Tanya murmured behind Regan, as they entered the meeting room.
Pete did look remarkably smug, rocking on his heels at the podium and waiting for the staff to straggle in, most of them showing signs of irritation at having been pulled away from their after-school prep time. And most of them seemed to have an idea of what was coming.
Mr. Zeiger, the school superintendent, stepped to the front of the room. “I wanted to tell you, in person, that although Mr. Bernardi is doing better, he has decided to retire. The board met last night and rather than commence an employment search now, we’re going to continue with the current situation. Mr. Domingo will continue as acting principal until the end of the school year.”
Karlene raised her hand. “When will you advertise this job?”
“We’ll fly it in February and interview in March. The position officially begins in July. That’ll give the successful candidate a chance to tie up loose ends.” Zeiger gave Pete a small nod. “Unless, of course, he’s local.”
Pete’s chest swelled so much that Regan began to wonder how his buttons held. “Thank you, Mr. Zeiger.”
The superintendent smiled and then turned his attention back to the group. “On a more serious note, the Renshaw family is still dealing with some huge medical bills and they’re trying to avoid bankruptcy. Our schools are in good shape, financially, so the board has agreed that a percentage of the proceeds from our independent fall fund-raisers can be donated to this cause. Also, the high school’s FFA club is organizing an auction to be held in October, and there’ll be various bake sales and car washes, too. I know you’ll support these events as best you can.”
There was a general murmur of approval. Even Pete looked supportive.
“Who are the Renshaws?” Regan asked Tanya.
“They work for the district. Mr. Renshaw in the bus garage, and Mrs. Renshaw in the district office. Their daughter had to have a kidney transplant, and the insurance hasn’t covered everything.”
“I’ll want the individual faculties to vote and decide what percent of their fund-raisers, if any, to donate. And now I’ll turn things over to your principal.”
Pete took his place behind the podium as the superintendent stepped away. “That’ll be all for this afternoon,” he said, “but we’ll be having another short meeting tomorrow at
8:00 sharp, to discuss our own fund-raiser.” “Scary.” Regan said to Tanya, as they walked back to their classrooms. “He looked orgasmic.”
“He was orgasmic. He’s wanted this for a long time.”
“Maybe he’ll relax once he has the position.” Tanya rolled her blue eyes and Regan sighed. “I guess we’ll just muscle through this year and hope the board is smart enough not to make the appointment permanent.”
“We can hope, but never discount the good-old-boy network. I think Pete has a shot at this. Heck, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d already decided to shoehorn him in.”
“Because of his charismatic personality?”
“Because of the eight state football and basketball championships. School boards and ex-athletes in positions of power like that kind of stuff.”
WHEN REGAN ARRIVED at the arena on Friday afternoon to pick up her new horse, she found Madison preoccupied, anxious about some problem with the upcoming clinic and ready to take it out on the first innocent person who crossed her path. And then, as if that wasn’t enough, Toffee made it clear he had no intention of getting into a small two-horse trailer.
Regan had just spent a long day trying to keep more than 150 adolescents under control and she was in no mood to deal with either of these two. Fortunately, though, the brand inspector, a man named Trev Paul, had a way with both horses and women.
He was a good-looking man, dark and lean, with an easy smile, but it was his patience and the sense that he saw more than he acknowledged that most impressed Regan. Both Madison and Toffee responded well to his combination of easy humor and quiet determination, and in a surprisingly short amount of time, Regan was following his truck and trailer back to her place.
Once they were there, Trev unloaded Toffee and led him around the house to the pasture. It was obvious the gelding had no more respect for Trev than he did for Regan, but Trev was big enough to do something about it. He elbowed the horse out of his space more than once on the walk from the trailer.
“This boy needs some groundwork,” Trev commented, as he released the horse into the knee-high grass.
“Amen to that,” Regan muttered.
“Are you going to Madison’s clinic?” Trev pushed his ball cap back and Regan found herself staring into a pair of stunning hazel eyes.
“Sure am.”
“You might talk to Will or Del. I’d suggest Will, since he lives here and you won’t have to skip a rent payment to pay him.”
Regan laughed. “Speaking of payment, you’re sure you won’t take anything for hauling Toffee?”
“Nope.”
“Are you sure you can get your trailer out of this narrow driveway?”
“Yep.” He grinned. “See you around.”
Trev effortlessly reversed down the drive and made the tricky backward turn onto the county road in one shot. Regan hoped she’d be that competent once she bought a trailer, which would be in two years or so, the way things were going.
She had grading waiting for her, but instead of doing what she was supposed to be doing, she walked to the pasture to take another look at her horse. After all, how many times did a person get her first horse?
Her horse. Not a leased horse or a borrowed horse or a schooling horse.
He stood almost exactly where he’d been released, pulling up big mouthfuls of fresh grass, his dark coat shining in the late afternoon sun. Every now and then he would raise his head to look around, as if he couldn’t believe he had all this space, all this freedom—all this grass!—to himself.
With the exception of the grass, Regan knew exactly how he felt. She loved her mother and sister, but she was glad to be several hundred miles away from them and no longer required to act as a handy referee. And although dating Daniel had not put a crimp in her freedom, the aftermatch of their relationship had given her an an even deeper appreciation of independence.
Too bad it had been such a hard lesson.
Regan settled her forearms on the gate, telling herself to focus on the present, forget about the past, but she hated the fact that she’d been conned so masterfully—personally and professionally. She’d even broken a number of personal rules for him—don’t date a colleague, don’t let anyone get too close.
But after working with the guy for a year, team teaching a math and science pilot program at a middle school, she thought she knew him well enough to break those rules. They’d started dating and it had seemed a perfect relationship. They were close both personally and professionally, yet Daniel understood and respected Regan’s need to have her own space. He was supportive and attentive, generous. Almost perfect. Or so she thought.
Her professional goal at the time, heartily endorsed by her mother, Arlene, since it involved getting out of the classroom and into a power suit, was to secure a position with the Education Development Authority.
Over the course of that school year, she developed a package of innovative interactive lesson plans, which both she and Daniel used in their classes. With Daniel’s input, Reagan had fine-tuned the material. When EDA had announced a job opening, Regan was ready. But so was Daniel.
He’d been up front about the fact that he was applying for the job, as well. Regan had been a bit surprised, but she knew that was the way things were in the professional world. She convinced herself she didn’t have a problem with it. However she did have a problem with the fact that when it was her day to be interviewed, to present her materials and teach a demonstration lesson, it soon became apparent the interview committee had seen quite similar material before. The day before. During Daniel’s interview.
Maybe, if life was fair, neither of them would have gotten the job. But life wasn’t fair. Daniel had set the stage nicely, talking about his junior teaching colleague, Regan, who’d helped him tweak the lessons he’d spent so much time developing. It was only fair, after all, that she get a tiny portion of the credit.
At least Daniel had been smart enough to know that Regan would no longer be sharing his life after he’d accepted the job, so there had been no nasty breakup. Just a painful case of self-recrimination for trusting him, for almost convincing herself that she loved him.
She wouldn’t be making that mistake again.
WILL WENT THROUGH his equipment, setting aside the few things he planned to bring with him to the clinic. He didn’t need much. The horse would be there. All he needed was a sturdy halter, a rope, a saddle and a clear head. Three out of four wasn’t bad.
“Hey, Dad.” Kylie strolled into the barn, yawning but fully dressed and ready to go. The only time she got up willingly was when the day involved horses.
“Hey.”
She had on her good black cowboy hat, her T-shirt with a barrel racer emblazoned on the back and her new jeans, which were already getting too short. Shopping time again. He’d have to see if Sadie’s mom had a trip to Elko planned in the near future. No, maybe he’d take her himself. He didn’t want her in Elko without him just now.
“You look ready.”
She grinned at him. “So do you. Are you up first today?”
“Nope, second.” Del liked to go first. He was the headliner.
“Can Stubby come?” Both Kylie and the young border collie looked at Will hopefully.
Will shook his head. “Not yet.”
“He’ll behave.”
“He’ll eat the interior of my truck.”
“He didn’t eat much the last time.”
No. Just the gearshift knob, but Will wasn’t taking any chances. “Not this time.”
Kylie bent down to explain to the collie that he had to stay home, then she got into the truck as the pup slunk to the porch steps to watch them leave without him.
Will waited as Kylie fastened her seat belt and the surge of protectiveness he felt as he watched her small hands work the latch was almost overwhelming. He knew logically there was probably nothing to worry about, that Brett had been in the area for more than a month and he’d made no attempt to contact them, but paternal instinct and logic did not always jibe. In fact, in Will’s experience they rarely did.
“Ready?” Kylie’s dark eyes were shining with excitement. She loved any and all horse events—especially those that involved her dad. He smiled.
“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”
Kylie gave him a patient look. “I know you hate having all those people looking at you, but just imagine them in their underwear.”
“That’s a frightening thought, considering some of the people who will be there.” Kylie grinned. “I’d never thought of it that way. Do you think old Grandpa Meyers wears boxers or briefs?”
“Stop now.”
Kylie started giggling and Will put the truck in Reverse. The day was actually off to a decent start.
