Evidence of Trust (8 page)

Gina smiled, Billy grinned down at his busy hands.

“It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m going back to Chicago at the end of the summer, and it’s only been a few weeks since Daniel. I’m not willing to be used again.”

Their humor softened to sympathy, making her teeth clench in annoyance as she straightened on her barstool. “You know what? Maybe I will just have a fling, like everyone else does out here.”

Before she could turn and pretend to survey the eligible men around her, Billy stated, “No you won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Because that’s not the Britt we all know and love.”

He was right, damn it. Her shoulders slumped. “Well, it’s not fair that everyone else has all the fun.”

Her pout made them laugh, but she was only half-joking.

Chapter 10

Mark’s mustang, Gypsy, arrived Monday morning, the effects of the tranquilizer still evident. Britt slipped through the gate and Casey latched it behind her. She tuned out the audience of co-workers along the fence and focused on the mare.

She was on the smaller side, but even beneath her unkempt coat and matted mane, Britt could see the strong lines of good conformation. She’d have stamina to carry a rider all day long and then some.

“I can understand why you bought her,” she said over her shoulder to her boss. “She’s gonna be gorgeous.” With some love and a couple good groomings, her dark brown coat would gleam in the sunlight.

Mark didn’t reply, and she kept her gaze trained front and center. The horse watched her, but its head hung low, its eyelids and bottom lip droopy. Satisfied the mare wouldn’t make any sudden moves, Britt clasped her hands behind her back and eased closer.

“Careful,” Casey warned softly.

At about fifteen feet away, she halted and leaned forward, blowing softly toward the animal so the mare could catch her scent. Britt extended one hand. Black-tipped ears flicked back in distrust.

“That’s okay, sweetie. Soon we’ll be friends.”

She stood there a couple more minutes, talking softly all the while, then backed off again. Rejoining Mark and Casey at the fence, she leaned against the rails. The challenge of training the mare sent a little shiver of excitement along her spine. Still, she let her boss wonder a full minute more before shrugging.

“All right, you’ve got me.”

He allowed a slight grin and a soft, “Thank you, ma’am,” before ordering everyone back to work.

The day passed in a blur of cleaning stalls, checking tack, grooming horses. Everyone stayed busy getting ready to handle the summer season of tourists that would kick into high gear after Memorial Day. Jon and Mandy took a group of three guests out for an hour ride in the afternoon, leaving Britt to work with Kelly for the last couple hours while Mark and Casey attended a managers meeting.

Kelly had been fine all day with the others around, so when it was just the two of them, Britt gave him a friendly smile, hoping to put their previous encounter behind them. “Mark asked me to finish some paperwork for him, so if you want to polish the rest of the saddles in the tack room, you can head out when you’re done. I think there’s five left.”

“And if I don’t want to?”

The edge of antagonism in his voice grated on her nerves. “That’s fine. You can shovel the manure in the back, instead.”

“Who made you boss?”

“Mark did. I’ve been here a heck of a lot longer than you, and I know what needs to get done.”

“Good for you.”

She took a deep breath. “It doesn’t have to be like this, Kelly.”

His glare didn’t diminish as he spun around to stride toward the tack room. She went into the office and ignored him as much as she could until he’d clocked out an hour and a half later. Glad to have his unnerving presence gone, she strolled out to the arena to check on the mustang.

The lengthy afternoon shadows were beginning to camouflage the brown mare. She moved restlessly about the circular enclosure now that the tranquilizer had worn off.

Britt spoke softly to get the mare accustomed to the sound of her voice, but she didn’t go inside. That would wait until tomorrow.

* * *

Bright sunlight didn’t deter the brisk wind that rustled the spring leaves on Britt’s walk from the parking lot to the arena Tuesday morning. The barn doors were open, and she assumed Mark was in his office, but a glance at her watch confirmed she had just over an hour before the morning staff meeting he held each day to hand out work assignments. Enough time to get a feel for how to proceed with Gypsy’s training.

The mare paced in the enclosure, ears flicking back and forth, eyes taking everything in as she monitored her surroundings. She was constantly on the move, pausing only to snake her head down every so often for a bite of hay.

Britt gave it about ten minutes, then took a deep breath and bent to slip between the boards. Mark had likened the animal to a bull, but how bad could she really be?

Taking slow, unthreatening steps, she started a one-sided, soft conversation and made her way into the middle. The mare seemed calmed by her voice; her movements less agitated, her ears pitching forward with interest.

Look at that. Maybe all she needs is someone to show her gentleness.

Gypsy stopped and faced her. Her pulse kicked up a notch, but when the mare made no move, she willed her heartbeat to slow. Satisfaction brought a small smile to her lips.

“There you go, girl. See, no one’s going to hurt you here.”

In the blink of an eye, the horse’s ears flattened to her head and she charged. Britt spun and made a run for it. The thunder of hooves vibrated in her chest, sending an additional surge of adrenaline through her legs.

She launched herself the last three feet, scrambling to climb the fence. Dirt sprayed as Gypsy skidded to a halt and slid into the boards beneath her. Momentum carried Britt over the top. As she tumbled over, her cotton shirt caught on a knot in the top board. It held long enough to change her trajectory, then ripped.

Her head slammed against the fence post as she hit the ground. Stars twinkled on the edges of her vision. As she caught her breath, she turned her head to peer between the boards while the mare retreated. Two seconds slower and she would’ve been pinned against the hard wood by a crazy horse.

“Shoulda thought that through a bit more,” she muttered.

A quick glance around the empty stable yard confirmed she was speaking to no one but herself. The fact that Mark hadn’t come rushing out meant he hadn’t caught the action from the window, either, thank God.

She pulled herself to her feet, one hand gingerly pressed to her tender cheek. Gypsy paused long enough for a mouthful of hay before resuming her restless stride.

“Round one goes to you, girl,” Britt conceded dryly.

When she walked into the barn office, Mark barely glanced up from his paperwork as he offered a greeting. “Mornin’.”

“Hey.”

“What are you doing here so early?”

The mirror on the wall revealed a raw scrape and blossoming bruise on her left cheek. She glanced down at the rip in her shirt, and her dusty jeans. Thankfully, the knot in the board hadn’t ripped through the tank top she’d layered beneath her blue button up shirt. With an inward sigh of resignation, she turned to face the inevitable.

Mark glanced up, then sat back in his chair, his gaze fixed on her face. “Whoa, what happened?”

She gave him a wry grin. “I discovered you weren’t lying about the bull analogy.”

He surged up from his seat to move around his desk. “Did she kick you?”

“No.” She held up a staying hand. “No, it’s okay. She did exactly what you told me she’d do. This happened on my way over the fence.”

He squinted at her injury. “You should have waited for me. You could’ve really gotten hurt.”

“I’m okay.” When he looked to lecture further, she insisted, “
Honestly
.” She’d love a few aspirin for the headache throbbing in her temples, but no way she’d tell him that. “Can you just relax for a minute? Because now I’ve got a problem and I need your help.”

He sat on the edge of his desk, motioning for her to sit before folding his arms over his chest. “Go ahead.”

“When she charged, I ran—”

“I would hope so.”

“Except that now puts me back a step. She thinks I’m afraid of her, but I still need to figure out a way to stop her from charging.”

“Britt, listen to me. I don’t want you—”

“Mark, I said I’m fine.”

“And I said,
listen to me.
”

Britt snapped her jaw shut and swallowed her arguments.

“I don’t want you to get hurt doing this, which means you don’t go in that arena alone.” He silenced her impending protest with a scowl. “Furthermore, if I feel there is no progress to be made, I want your word that you’ll let it rest and stop the training. I’ve got enough to worry about without adding your safety to the list.”

His unwavering gaze told her he was one hundred percent serious.

“Fine, but you’d better give me a fair chance. She deserves that much,” she relented ungraciously, rising to her feet.

“I know, and I will.”

“Thank you.”

He dipped his chin in silent acknowledgment. “Now, about that problem…”

Britt made her way over to the window to look out at the arena. “I have to be able to stand in front of her without backing down.”

“What if Casey and I rope her?”

“I considered that, but it won’t work. I don’t want to force her, and it wouldn’t stop her from charging, it would just reinforce her distrust.” She turned back to face him. “I do have an idea, though. If I play kinda like a matador—”

“Nope.” He was shaking his head even as he said the word.

“Hear me out,” she insisted. “When she gets close enough, I’ll step aside and give her a crack on the chest with a riding crop.”

He appeared to be considering it, but when he remained silent, she asked, “Unless you don’t want me to use the crop?”

“No, I trust you, but I’d still have no way of helping you.”

“You’ll be by the gate, ready to rope her if you need to.” Through the window, she watched Casey park his truck. “Casey, too, if that makes you feel better.”

A glance over her shoulder confirmed it didn’t, but after another moment, Mark nodded reluctant consent. They met Casey on the way outside, and he noticed her bruise right away.

“I bumped into the fence,” she explained. Mark made a sound under his breath, but it wasn’t a lie. “You’ll understand in a minute.”

By the arena, she explained the plan to Casey and then ignored his raised eyebrow of disbelief as she slipped between the boards. Keeping her pace steady, she began her soft words of reassurance. The brisk wind whipped them away, making it impossible for the mare to hear, but if nothing else, the murmuring calmed her own nerves. She could feel each beat of her heart and her palms had grown damp.

When she reached the middle of the arena again, the mare’s ears flattened against her head, and she jumped into a gallop. Britt fought the urge to run as a thousand pounds of muscled horseflesh hurled toward her. She had to wait until the final stride to raise the crop camouflaged against her leg.

The mare was four strides away when Britt panicked. If she raised the whip to this animal, she’d never be able to train her. She made a mad dash out of the path of the mare’s charging hooves.

“She’s coming after you!”

Hoof beats pounded behind her as she leapt for the fence and clambered to the top. Dust billowed up around her as she watched the mare pivot on her hind legs and retreat. Back at the gate, she read the question and concern in Mark’s expression. Both men were busy recoiling their ropes.

“I couldn’t do it,” she said, out of breath from the adrenaline rush. “I realized if I hit her, I’d never get near her again.” She stood on the bottom rail and rested her arms on the top, gazing at the mustang. “She’s used to everything and everyone running from her.”

Casey snorted. “You sure as hell wouldn’t catch me standing in her way.”

Britt didn’t take her eyes off the horse. “How fast did she turn after I ran?”

“Fast enough,” he retorted.

“Would I have enough time to face her again? I mean, I’ve never seen a horse intentionally run into a fence.”

“You’re not a fence.”

She ignored Mark’s comment. “I don’t think she’d run me over.”

“You’re putting a lot of faith in a horse that’s tried to run you down twice already. By the time you find out, it’ll be too late,” he argued. “It’s completely out of the question.”

He started for the barn, and she jumped off the fence to follow. “Mark—”

“Find another way, or quit now. Asking you to train this horse didn’t include putting your life in danger.”

Britt grabbed hold of his arm. “Seriously, have you ever seen a horse run into a fence on purpose? Each time, when I reached the fence, she turned away because I was no longer a threat.”

“You were no longer within her reach.”