Boji Stones Page 4

  The gray plunged against his halter, snorting. “Yes, Destrie, let her see what a fine figure of a horse you are and what she’s missing. Come on, handsome, tomorrow is another day,” she soothed, keeping both hands on the leather leading strap. She put the complaining stallion away then went to Pegasus’ stall, pulled a carrot out of her pocket and held it out to him. He took it from her outstretched palm with the delicacy of a gentleman. She stroked his velvet nose, his breath warm on her hand as he crunched his carrot. “Let’s take a look at you, sweetheart.”

  Easing open the stall door she let herself inside. Holding his leather halter in one hand, she stroked his massive neck with the other. His skin bunched and quivered with each pass of her hand. She felt the stallion’s soreness through her palm but the intense pain and stress had subsided dramatically.

  The tumor had shrunk to manageable proportions and as long as he came in contact with the stone every day it would disappear entirely. She stroked his shoulders. “You’re going to be okay sweet boy.” She kept her voice low and soothing.

  Satisfied she turned reaching for the stall door and almost jumped out of her skin.

  His hands wrapped around a pitchfork Jack stood in the aisle watching her.

  A quiver of unease ran through her. Sensing her nerves Pegasus sidestepped throwing his head up and down, his silver mane rippling like running water. Her muscles tightened. Jack’s not here to hurt me. Without thinking she touched the amulet. Calm seeped through her system.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  Am I that obvious or do those liquid brown eyes see everything?

  He shook his head in admiration as he looked at Pegasus. “What you have done is nothing short of a miracle.”

  Is that what the title of her demise would be called if he chose to write about the amulet? The Story Of A Miracle? Or worse yet, did he want not just a story but the amulet itself?

  She could feel the color rush and recede from her face. Her instincts told her she had nothing to fear from this man but the fact that he’d arrived so soon after the accident made her wary. As if pulled by a magnet, her gaze strayed to the sharp pronged pitchfork and the strong capable hands wrapped around it.

  Her glance slid to his face. Those dark brown eyes continued to study her across the stall door. “You have nothing to fear from me. Quite the opposite. I’m in your debt and owe you a great deal.” He leaned the pitchfork against the wall and held up empty hands. “Is it just me or does any stranger make you nervous? You seem much better today by the way.” As he lowered his hands, his gaze traveled over her in a clinical manner.

  Maureen couldn’t decide whether to be relieved or insulted.

  “So are we still going for that ride?”

  “Sure why not.” She hid her misgivings behind a nonchalant shrug. Maybe she could find something out about this enigmatic man that came out of nowhere in the dead of night.

  “Why not indeed,” he mocked, his eyes knowing. “Can you give me an hour? I’ve got three more stalls to muck and I’d like to take a quick shower before we go.”

  “A bit of a dandy are you?” she teased.

  He snorted. “Hardly. But I’d hate to ruin the fresh smell of outdoors with the odor of the barn I’d be bringing with me.”

  “An hour then. I’ve got a few things to see to myself.”

  He nodded picked up the pitchfork and went back to cleaning stalls. Letting herself out of the stall, she walked down the aisle and stuck her head in one he’d already cleaned breathing in the smell of fresh hay. He does a better job on these stalls than I do on the house.

  Satisfied, she went to the next stall to check on a lame mare. She picked up the hoof and leaned against the animal absorbing the pain and infection. She winced as it ran through her hands up her arm and into the amulet. Straightening, she stretched then touched the amulet, letting it carry the discomfort away before moving on to the next horse.

  The hour was up before she knew it.

  “Ms. Sinclair are you ready to go?”

  She looked up from the mare she was examining. “Yes, I am. And call me Maureen. Everyone else does.”

  Jack leaned against the stall door, his shiny dark hair pulled back in a ponytail still wet from his shower. He wore a white tee shirt and soft faded jeans. “It would be my pleasure.”

  Maureen felt an unfamiliar thump in the vicinity of her heart when he turned on what had to be a thousand mega watt smile. It lit up his face and warmed anyone in his vicinity. Oh my.

  He pointed at the mare Maureen had healed. “She seems better already.”

  “She’s fine now.”

  He stared admiringly. “What a beauty.”

  “She is isn’t she? I bought her at auction. Outbid the damn slaughterhouse owners.”

  He looked appalled.

  She prepared to ride. “Did you know that there are three foreign-owned slaughterhouses in the United States? That they slaughtered one hundred thousand horses this year alone so they could put them on dinner plates overseas?”

  He looked sick as well he should. “I had no idea.”

  “Call your congressman and ask him to vote for change.”

  “I will.”

  She shook her head. “Sorry. Some people think I care too much.”

  In a gesture of comfort, he leaned over the stall door and put his hand on her shoulder.

  She looked up startled her arm tingling beneath his touch.

  “You can never care too much. And I will call my congressman.”

  He smiled, a smile filled with warmth and concern. It lit up his eyes and softened the hard planes and angles of his face. He gave her shoulder a light squeeze then dropped his hand. “Now how about that ride?”

  She nodded and came out of the stall.

  They walked into the tack room and pulled down saddles and bridles. “Who are you riding?” The bits jingled as Jack pulled them off the wall.

  “Veiled Wings.”

  “The black mare in the first stall?”

  She nodded.

  He paused, admiration on his face. “What a beauty. Pure Egyptian isn’t she?”

  Maureen nodded, pleased. He knows a thing or two about horses. “Pegasus is an Arabian.”

  Jack threw the bridles over his shoulder and grabbed two saddles. “That’s right. But not pure Egyptian.”

  “Here, I can take my saddle.” As she reached for it, the scent of soap, leather and man tickled her senses.

  “Not necessary,” he said and kept walking.

  Stubborn. She stared at his back then hurried after him.

  He threw a saddle over Pegasus’ stall door then walked toward Wings’ stall. As he started to open the door, she slipped the bridle off his shoulder and walked in.

  Maureen gave Wings a carrot and stroked her nose. Turning, she saw pure naked lust in Jack’s eyes—fortunately or unfortunately for her horse.

  “That shiny coat is so black it’s nearly blue. And what a beautiful mane, it’s almost as long as my arm.”

  He picked up the saddle and started toward her as Maureen slipped the bit between Wings’ teeth.

  She turned and took the saddle. “I’ll do that.”

  He gave her a puzzled look and shrugged. “No problem,” he said and walked back to saddle Pegasus.

  The mare swung her head around to look at Maureen. As she cinched the girth, Maureen explained under her breath, “I don’t want to find my girth loose halfway through a gallop. It just pays to be careful. Though, maybe I should have thought about that before I agreed to go riding.”

  Veiled Wings snorted and shook her head. Maureen pulled down the stirrup resting across the back of the saddle. “You’re just taken with Pegasus. And a handsome animal he is too.”

  The mare nickered and threw her head up and down as if in agreement.

  Laughing, Maureen led Wings out of the stall.

  Jack waited outside the barn mounted on the beautiful white stallion.

  As Maureen swung int
o the saddle Jack’s cell phone rang.

  He pulled it out of his shirt pocket and looked at the number. “I better take this. Tell me where you are riding and I’ll catch up.”

  “There’s a trail behind the barn that leads through the meadow and winds into the woods. Just follow it.” Touching her heels to Veiled Wings they trotted off.

  Dust spurted up from the smooth dirt trail and the smell of fresh air and alfalfa filled the air. Maureen lifted Wings into a gallop. A warm breeze blew her hair back from her face and played with the mare’s mane.

  The feel of Wings beneath her soothed her and she began to relax, feeling the tension below the surface of the amulet leave her. Her hands loosened on the reins.

  A rabbit raced straight across Wings’ path. The mare swerved just as a shot rang out. As Maureen parted company with the saddle she felt a sharp burning in her shoulder. She clapped her hand on it as she hit the ground her fall cushioned by the tall thick alfalfa.

  Wings bolted and headed for the barn.

  Dazed, she stared at the rivulet of blood running down her arm and landing in glistening red droplets on the purple clover-like flowers and spiral pods. Pain flicked through her in colorful bursts behind her eyes. She couldn’t believe that someone had shot her.

  Hearing the fast thump of a horse’s hooves galloping along the dirt trail, she began to slither through the knee-high alfalfa away from the trail, breathing hard.

  She pressed on the amulet and felt a surge of renewal. Once she’d healed a dog injured from a BB. The rejuvenation had forced the pellet to the surface as the cells healed beneath it. Maureen could only hope that would happen to her because she refused to go back to the hospital—if she lived that long.

  She stopped crawling and raised her head to listen. Whoever was after her stopped too. Staying low to the ground she looked around. She was perhaps thirty yards from the trail. Had Jack or Hank heard the shot? They’d probably think it was someone hunting out of season or target practicing. Or maybe Jack already knew. Had he shot at her? The thought made her stomach roll and her skin turn clammy. Surely if he was evil she would have sensed it. All she sensed was goodness, kindness. But malevolence could be masked.

  The ground trembled and the alfalfa began to rustle. Someone was coming! She curled up in a ball, wrapping her hand protectively around the amulet. A bay mare stopped inches from her. She scooted backward and looked up.

  “Who are you?” Her voice hitched in her throat and she tried to swallow but fear sucked her spit dry.

  The man with the face of an angel and demons shining in his eyes looked down at her from his saddle, his rifle aimed at her head, his body twitching. “If you give me the amulet you don’t have to die.”

  Surely Jack will be here soon. She stalled for time. “What makes you think you can kill me?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t have time to argue the point.” Fine tremors ran along his legs and arms.

  His finger squeezed the trigger.

  “No!” Maureen screamed in terror and rolled away as he fired. The gun barked out a sharp report. The bullet grazed her arm. “Jesus Christ!”

  She sprang to her feet.

  He raised the gun again shaking so badly the rifle jiggled like a jumping bean. Parkinson’s?

  She began to run, zigzagging back toward the trail.

  The muffled sound of hooves trampling alfalfa made her sprint harder but she couldn’t outrun his horse.

  He drove his mount into her knocking the wind out of her as she fell. She pushed awkwardly to her feet and faced him. “Bastard,” she gasped out.

  He raised the gun again balancing it on the saddle horn. “Give me the amulet,” he ground out his beautiful face gray and covered with sweat.

  Wolf came out of nowhere knocking the rifle out of her attacker’s hands as the animal arced through the air, his mouth drawn back in a silent snarl.

  The horse screamed and rose on its hind legs. Maureen dove out of the way, wincing as she landed on the ground jarring her shoulder and arm.

  The rifle dropped to the ground and went off with a sharp report, as the horse danced around trying to get away from the wolf.

  In the distance, she heard a horse galloping hard and Jack calling her name. “Maureen, where are you?”

  “Here,” she yelled at the top of her lungs.

  The man gave Wolf a vicious kick, knocking him down.

  The wolf yipped then crouched, preparing to spring as the attacker thumped his heels against his mount’s ribs. “Heeya.” The horse needed no urging. Screaming and plunging it tore off toward the woods.

  Clasping the amulet, Maureen pushed to her feet as Wolf ran after her attacker.

  He nipped at the horse’s heels and the bay’s back legs shot out catching the dog square in the ribs. With a yelp, he flew through the air and fell to the ground.

  Horse and rider disappeared into the trees as Jack reined in Pegasus beside her. “God, Maureen, you’re covered in blood.“ He bolted off the horse.

  He reached out for her but she backed up her hand wrapped around the amulet. “I’m all right. Go after him.”

  He took a step toward her.

  She stepped back. “It’s worse than it looks. Go after him.”

  He gave her a searching look and climbed back into the saddle. “Who?” He drew back on the reins as Pegasus snorted and sidled.

  “I don’t know,” she cried, hysteria edging into her voice. “He was riding a bay horse.” She slapped her palm against her forehead. “What am I thinking? Wolf. Forget the man and get Wolf.” She hobbled toward the animal.

  “Stay there. I’ll get Wolf and be right back. Where is he? What happened to him?”

  “Horse kicked him.” Maureen pointed in the direction she’d seen his body fly through the air.

  He looked down at her from the saddle. “This is a hell of a mess. What I want to do is go after the bloody bastard that did this to you and beat him to a pulp. Instead, I’m rescuing a wolf.“

  “Please,” she pleaded, swaying on her feet.

  His glance swept over her. He gave a curt nod. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Thank you.” She whispered her gratitude but he was already riding away. She knew very few men who would understand her need to take care of an injured animal before anything else.

  She cast her eyes around the clearing shivering uncontrollably. She wrapped her free arm across her belly. The arm that had taken a slug to the shoulder and a graze throbbed like the devil itself. She pressed on the amulet.

  Maureen bit back a scream as she felt the bullet edging toward the surface. When she saw the back of the bullet press out of the bloody hole she grabbed it and yanked it the rest of the way out. This time she did scream and promptly passed out.

  The warm sun on her face and the keening of a hawk high overhead seeped through the thick layers of oblivion and brought her back to consciousness. Someone was covering her face in wet tonguing kisses.

  She felt her lashes flutter as she pried open her lids and looked into Wolf’s big brown eyes. He lay beside her, panting, his head raised to bestow another kiss.

  She lifted her hand to fend him off and he whined in pain. Memory came rushing back.

  She turned her head and looked into Jack’s eyes just as liquid and brown and as close as Wolf’s. Bronzed skin stretched tight across hard planes and angles. He squatted beside her balancing on the balls of his feet as he leaned over her. With a touch as light as a butterflies, he brushed back the loose strands of hair that lay on her forehead.

  Wolf whined again. She turned her head and ran a gentle hand over his side and felt the broken rib. She left her hand there and cried out as the wolf’s pain ran through her hand and up her arm into the amulet. For the second time, she fainted.

  She woke to the hypnotic clip-clop of a horse beneath her. Hard warm arms held her and a heart thumped rapid and erratic against her ear.

  Maureen became aware of two things—she felt better and those brown inscru
table eyes were once again staring into her own.

  “I can ride by myself now.”

  “Wings is probably in her stall by now.”

  She ran a trembling hand across her brow. “I’d forgotten. You’re probably right.”

  “Do you think maybe it’s time you told me what’s going on?”

  She opened her mouth to explain then closed it with a snap of her teeth. She had been attacked twice now. Both times Jack had appeared on the scene. Coincidence? She wasn’t a big believer in coincidences. She wrapped her hand protectively around her amulet feeling its comfort and renewal pour through her then forced her hand down to her side. And even though her lips were pressed together she knew her eyes spoke for her angry all over again. As if you don’t already know.

  She took a deep breath and concentrated on the amethyst. Better. Her lids came down partially veiling her eyes. From under her lashes she read his expression, half amused, half frustrated.

  “I could have taken it when you were out cold you know.”

  “Not with Wolf nearby.”

  He snorted. “A three-legged cat could have gotten the better of Wolf the shape he was in.”

  Alarmed, she sat up and craned her head to look over his shoulder. “How is he now?”

  His head drooping and his tongue hanging out, Wolf walked at Pegasus’ flank.

  Jack’s arms loosened and she slid on the smooth leather. Sitting behind the English saddle, his feet in the stirrups, he pulled her upright.

  “I’d say your wolf dog is about eighty-five percent better than he was before you touched him.“ In a controlled voice, as if the words were pulled from a well deep inside he added, “I’m not a liar by nature.”

  Her heart told her to believe him, her brain remained skeptical. Just as she opened her mouth, Pegasus threw up his head and neighed.

  Jack reined him in and waited as Hank came galloping toward them on a big rangy roan leading Wings.

  Clumps of dirt spurted as the roan plunged to a stop. Hank jumped out of the saddle and yanked Maureen out of Jack’s arms. “What the hell happened? Are you all right?”

  She could feel the tension running through him and saw it settle in his clenched jaws.