My Trojan Horse Majesty (The Russian Witch’s Curse #5)

1. Izzy

Chapter 1

Izzy

I was five years old when I told my mom I wanted to be a vet.

On my sixth birthday, I asked for a vet kit. Unable to find one, my mom modified one of the toy doctor kits and added a few stuffed animals. I loved it. I took it everywhere. I recruited every stuffed animal in the house, imagining up a whole host of maladies and sad stories so that my services were needed.

By the time I was ten, I knew I wanted to be a large animal doctor.

I love dogs and cats, don’t get me wrong, but there’s something about the weight, the significance, and the heft in the horses. If I could get away with it, I wanted to treat only horses, but I don’t hate dealing with cows either.

After my dad died and my mom remarried, I toyed briefly with the idea of being a horse trainer. For about two years, while I was riding virtually every day, I told everyone I wanted to do both. I spent all my free time either caring for horses, riding horses, or learning how to break and train them. I learned from the very best, too, my new stepdad, Steve Archer.

But eventually, I circled back around to vet, because I didn’t want horses—my hobby—to become my job. I wanted to have a job that allowed me to ride for fun separately. I had a few people tell me that I’d have to keep top grades, and that I’d have to study really hard.

The thing is, school was never hard for me.

In fact, I rarely even needed to study.

Other kids often hated me, because I always broke the curve. They really hated me when they found out that I did it without studying. But having a solid brain gave me time to focus on horse training in all my spare time. I went to college at the best school that was reasonably close to home—the University of Utah. I didn’t get to drive home all the time, but I saw my family often.

Other than family and horses, I didn’t have much else to cut into my time. I never dated anyone for more than a single date or two. Sometimes it was because I scared them off—horse girls can be a lot. Other times, they freaked me out. But mostly, I just didn’t really hit it off with anyone.

Until the day I saw Timothy Heaston for the first time.

Gleaming russet brown hair that fell over his brow. Light, almost golden-brown eyes that flashed in the sun. Half a dozen techs and assistants who followed his every order. He was evaluating a horse that could barely move, and then he strode over to the corner to talk to the owner.

“It’s what I thought—sepsis in the deep digital flexor tendon.”

The owner grimaced.

“But since it happened two days ago, he’s a candidate for fenestration.” Dr. Heaston was so calm. So forthright.

“That will lower the course of recovery?” The owner’s brow furrowed. “Or, why would we do that?”

“It doesn’t make the recovery faster, but as I mentioned, damaged tendons heal with irregularly arranged fibers. The scar tissue’s less elastic, so the repaired tendon’s weaker than it was before. Fenestration—an incision near the injury—will release the initial blood clot, and that should help the new blood vessels to grow into the injured area properly and ensure much greater function after it’s healed.”

I was at the Bear River Equine Hospital to interview for an internship, and I thought I’d done alright. But seeing Dr. Heaston, watching him diagnose and offer options on the expensive, fancy horse in front of me. . .it felt like I was seeing Taylor Swift in person, only cooler.

He was my version of a rock star.

I’d been interning at Bear Valley for almost a year when he kissed me. In my entire life, I’d never felt butterflies, but kissing an equine orthopedic surgeon that people travelled from hundreds of miles all around to see?

It was more than fireworks.

We’ve been together for almost a year, now, and even though no one at work knows, I’m still happier than I ever thought I’d be with him.

When he breezes through the door, he smiles. “Did you make dinner?”

I shake my head. “We had trouble getting Chicken Nugget on the trailer, so I didn’t leave until six.”

“But it’s seven fifteen.” He frowns. “If you didn’t cook, what am I smelling?”

I turn and look at the bag on the kitchen counter. “I picked up Urban Hill. I’d been craving their fried goat cheese.”

“So instead of making something, you drove all the way into town to buy overpriced frou-frou food?” He blinks. “Tell me your parents are rich without telling me your parents are rich.”

“You’re just crabby because you think goat cheese stinks.”

He rolls his eyes. “Not only because of that.”

“I had to drive into town anyway to check the mail at my apartment.”

“Why do you even still have that?” He opens the top of the bag and starts rummaging around. “You’ve basically lived here for months.”

I walk toward him. “My parents don’t know that, clearly.”

“Where’s the goat cheese?” His lip curls. “Did they charge you for it and forget to make it?”

I reach into the bag and pull out the lamb bourguignon, his favorite. “I ate it in my car on the way home, so you won’t have to smell it.” I step closer. “ And I already brushed my teeth.”

He smiles, then. “Good girl.” He reaches for my waist. “Get anything helpful in the mail?”

I sigh and drop my head against his shoulder. “No. Still nothing.”

“I thought they’d have sent out letters by now,” he says. “Maybe I should call Stetson.”

I freeze. “Can you do that?”

He shrugs. “I mean, he’s not supposed to share stuff like that, but he’d be able to log in and tell me whether you got in, probably.”

“I have to get in, right?” I ask. “I mean, you couldn’t recommend me, in case people ever found out about us, but Larry and Dr. Hartfield both love me. They gave me good recommendations, right?” Larry’s technically his boss, but only because Tim hates doing paperwork. Tim’s the one who brings in the big bucks, and everyone else accommodates him any way they can, including writing letters of recommendation for me when Tim asks. In this case, though, I know I earned them. I’ve worked hard at Bear River.

Tim leans back against the countertop with his hip and pulls his phone from his pocket. “I’m just going to call him, because if I don’t, you’ll keep driving down there every single day, won’t you?”

I roll my eyes, but I don’t argue.

“Hey,” Tim says. “It’s Heaston.”

I can’t hear anything from the other line. He must have his volume turned down low. I try to slide closer, but he waves me off.

“Listen, I know this is probably technically against the rules, but can you just take a little peek and tell me, informally, whether one of my interns got into the vet program over there?”

Again, he pauses.

“Right. She’s trying to make some big decisions, and she’s stressing that the letters haven’t come out yet. I told her I’d see what I could do. Sweet girl.”

Sweet girl? I slap his chest.

He scowls, and shakes his head. “Yep, her name’s Isabel Brooks.” He pauses. “Uh-huh.” Another break. “Yeah, that’s right. Birthday’s April fourteenth.”

And then he grunts.

“What does that mean?” I whisper. “That sounded bad .”

“No, I understand. I’ll just tell her to keep waiting.” When he hangs up, he looks. . .not good.

“What did he say?” I ask. “Are the letters coming out soon?”

Tim sighs heavily. “Look, Peach Pit. I know how much you wanted to do vet school, but if you did go, I wouldn’t see you for four years. Logan’s a long way off.”

What’s he saying?

“Plus, you’d never have time to ride if you were working that hard. And if we wanted to get married and start a family, that would be delayed a long while, too. So I know this might seem like bad news, but try to remember?—”

I bite off a sob. “Did he say I didn’t get in?”

“He told me I can’t tell you anything, obviously.” He sighs.

“But I didn’t.”

Tim hugs me. “I’m so sorry. Sometimes life takes us places we didn’t expect. Maybe this will turn out to be a good thing.”

Tim spends the rest of the night trying to cheer me up. It doesn’t work, but I appreciate his efforts. He’s actually singing “Walking on Sunshine” when there’s a loud bang on his door.

I straighten immediately, my heart racing. “Who could be here now?” I glance at my watch. “It’s after eleven p.m.”

Tim shrugs. “Wait here.” He pulls a shirt on and walks to the front door of his farmhouse.

I’m not great at doing as I’m told, so of course I sneakily follow him. When he opens the door, I can barely see them from around Tim’s broad shoulders. I wish I couldn’t see them at all.

Two police officers are standing in the doorway—a woman, and a very large man with grey hair. The man holds out a piece of paper. “We have a warrant for the arrest of a mister Timothy Heaston.” He tosses his head. “I presume that’s you?”

“What’s this for?” Tim asks.

“You’re being charged with embezzlement, fraud, and breach of fiduciary duties. You have the right to remain silent.” The man brandishes the paper again.

“Anything you say or do may be used against you in a court of law,” the woman says. “You also have the right to an attorney.”

“Although, I should warn you that your assets have already been frozen, so you’ll probably be stuck using the court-appointed one.” The man’s smiling.

When I found out earlier that I didn’t get into vet school, I really didn’t think things in my life could get any worse, but boy was I wrong.

And the next day, things worsen yet again. “Based on the evidence I’ve seen,” the judge says, “I think you’re a flight risk. I’m setting bail at a hundred thousand dollars.”

“A flight risk?” I stand up. “He’s a prominent member of the community. You’ve frozen all his money. There’s no way he could buy so much as a bus ticket, much less come up with that bail.”

“You’re correct, miss.” The judge smiles. “Unless he has some friends or family that trust him enough to risk their own hundred grand on him returning for trial, he’s going to be stuck in here until it starts. That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

Before they drag him out of the courtroom, at least the officers let me hug him goodbye.

“I have faith in you,” he says as he releases me.

“What?”

He leans closer and whispers in my ear. “I know that you’ll do whatever it takes to come up with that money. My partners are screwing me, and right now, you’re the only one I trust.” His eyes are intense, staring right into mine. “Get me out, Peach Pit, and the first thing I’ll do once my money’s unfrozen is go buy you a massive diamond engagement ring. We can put all the ugliness of this day behind us.”

And then he’s walking out the door, marching along ahead of armed guards, like he’s some kind of psycho killer. It’s been a really, really horrible day, but he’s not wrong about one thing. I may not have gotten into vet school, but I’m not going to screw this up.

I will get that bail money, and I will get him out of here.