Chapter 9
Independent Women – Destiny’s Child
Tally
“He’s making good progress,” Gunner said, coming to stand next to me. “Decided what you want to do with him yet?”
My stomach dropped to my dusty boots as I looked over at Dreamy trotting around the paddock with a saddle on his back. I’d asked Mikey to work with him, wondering whether he was just a good boy for me. Having watched them for twenty minutes it was clear he really was making progress.
“He can stay here,” Gunner added. “But he’s a racehorse, Tally. I’m not sure if his wandering around the pasture every day is fulfilling his potential.”
“I know,” I mused, chewing on my bottom lip. “I don’t have the funds to race him and he’s making progress now, but what if he freaks when he sees a starting gate again?” I loved that damn horse. The idea of handing him off to someone else felt like slicing out a piece of me.
Gunner turned to lean against the fence, casually resting his elbows on the top rail.
“I agree. If you did want to race him then we’d move on to the next phase of his training.
We’ll take him out to a racecourse and build up his confidence until we feel we can get him into a gate.
” He gave me that smile, the one he used when pretending it was a suggestion, even though he’d already decided and knew I’d say yes.
“I have a few ideas that mean you can keep him.”
My heart started to thud excitedly with the possibility. “Okay?”
“I’ve got a favorite, but I’ll lay out your options.”
I grinned, knowing the choice was already made.
“Western Dressage. You could work with him, or we could bring in a local trainer. It’ll work with his focus, balance and athleticism.
” I nodded, glancing over at Dreamy seeing everything that Gunner saw in him.
“There’s also therapeutic riding or equine-assisted therapy.
He’s got that gentle side that we’d need at the camp.
He could also become one of the ranch utility horses, it would keep him active and mentally stimulated.
” He turned to watch as Mikey gave Dreamy a hug, which was a huge progression.
“The other options are trick training and would mean he doesn’t have to work with a saddle.
” That felt like a step back as that had been our focus recently, getting a saddle on him.
“And the final option, we could use him for breeding. He’d be a great stud with his bloodlines.
Okay so he’s kind of failed as a racer, because I’ve got to be honest Tally, I don’t think that’s his future.
It would be too high a risk that it happens again.
I think that fear of the starting gate is in his head now.
We can diminish it with training, but I don’t think we can totally erase it.
” Gunner pushed off the fence and clapped a hand on my shoulder.
“Not to mention it was impacted with being kept in a stable for so long afterward. So they’re your options.
You can think about it, but tell me which of those options excites you right now? What’s your gut reaction?”
I didn’t need to think about it for too long. My sweet, gentle boy who showed so much patience and tenderness when I was training him.
“Him being a therapy horse,” I told him. “He was broken and the idea of him helping kids feels right. Like full circle.”
Gunner’s grin widened and I knew I’d chosen right.
“I think that’s exactly why he’d be a great therapy horse.
Not all the kids that come to the ranch will be broken, but just having Dreamy around will be like a balm to them.
I think it’ll be good for him, too.” Moving past me he gave me a nudge.
“And it means you can stop that damn automatic payment for him being here.”
“How did you know?” I asked and looked over to the office. “Ruthie said you wouldn’t find out .”
“I didn’t. Wilder did, he likes to check the accounts with a fine toothed comb, you know after our dad’s shenanigans.”
“And he told you?” I took a deep breath, wondering where I would catch up with damn Wilder and his fine toothed comb.
“Don’t be too hard on him. I was the one who said I didn’t want it.” He chuckled and carried on walking. “But you should know he’s been transferring it into a separate account.”
“What? Gunner, what do you mean?”
He waved at me over his shoulder. “It’s all there waiting for you to decide what you want to do with it.”
As he strode away, his shoulders shaking, I was determined to find his damn brother.
“How dare he,” I muttered storming toward the office, Ruthie knew everyone’s schedule.
Halfway across the yard I was distracted by the sound of a car engine in front of the main house. Just as I moved for the office, something cut through the hum of the ranch, a low, throaty engine that didn’t belong.
I turned toward the main house. And froze. Bright orange. Loud. Flashy. And so, so out of place.
There was no one home. Lily and Cassidy were teaching and Felicia had Billy over at her house as she was minding her grandson. I changed direction and headed for the sportscar.
Taking my gloves off, I shoved them into the back pocket of my jeans and watched as the door opened vertically. At the same time as the front door to the house opened, a khaki covered leg appeared out of the car.
Wilder jogged down the porch steps as the man in the car stood to his full height. He was wearing sunglasses, khakis, a blue shirt and a navy blue wool blazer. I would hazard a guess he also wore pure woolen socks and Italian leather shoes. I didn’t have to guess, I knew.
“What the hell are you doing here, Declan?” I hissed.
“Hey, can I help you?” Wilder asked.
Declan Mullaney.
“Hi, there I’m looking for—”
“Declan,” I repeated his name with venom. “What the hell are you doing here?” My chest heaved with the anger pulsing through my veins at the sight of him.
Wilder shoved his hands to his hips and looked between the two of us. “You two know each other?”
Declan turned his perfectly symmetrical face to Wilder and flashed his expensive teeth at him. “Hi I’m Declan.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” Wilder’s jaw pulsed with the tension that flew off him in waves. “Do you two know each other?”
Declan glanced over at me before turning his attention back to the man who was currently looking angrier than a wounded wolf.
“I’m sorry,” he said, offering Wilder a handshake. “Let me introduce myself properly.” He looked straight at me as he said it. “Declan Mullaney. Tallulah’s husband.”
The air snapped cold. Wilder’s head turned slowly toward me. And just like that, everything blew open.