Chapter Twelve
The creak of the mudroom door opening woke Asher. The heavy fall of the boots on the hardwood floor alerted him that it was not his chef. Kelley’s steps were lighter and more brisk as if she was always in a rush, hurrying to catch a rainbow. Definitely not her. Asher’s mood dipped.
“If you don’t have coffee, turn right back around,” Asher muttered and smashed the pillow into place under his head. “And come back when you’ve got some.”
The boots stopped. A throat cleared. “Asher.”
“Morning, Owen,” Asher said and gave up going back to sleep.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” Owen moved into the family room. “Well, actually I did.”
Asher rubbed his hands over his face, then peered out the tall windows across the room overlooking the back porch. It was still dark. “What time is it?”
“An hour or so before dawn,” Owen said, his words hesitant as if the sunrise was slightly further off than sixty minutes.
His chef would be heading to the diner soon for her morning shift.
The day would be in full swing by the time Asher saw Kelley.
If he got to see her. His mood failed to improve.
Asher tipped his head until he eyed Owen from an upside-down perspective.
The quick-to-help stable hand hovered near the end of the couch, looking unsure and out of place.
Asher stretched his arms above his head and yawned. “You don’t have any grocery bags, so I take it Kelley didn’t ask you to prep something for breakfast.”
“The French toast casseroles are all set,” Owen said. “I just need to put the casserole dishes in the oven later to heat up.”
“Then what brings you by?” Asher asked and shifted before he got a crick in his neck. He swung his bare feet off the couch and onto the floor. “I take it whatever it is couldn’t wait until breakfast.”
Uncertainty cast a deeper shadow across Owen’s face. He tugged at his hair, until the red strands stuck out in every direction. “It’s Derby Dreamer.”
“Derby Dreamer.” Asher stood, quickly folded the blanket he was using and tossed it on the back of the couch. “What happened?”
“Nothing specific.” Owen gave one last yank on his hair and lowered his arm. “But he seems off. I mentioned it to Elliot yesterday. He was supposed to talk to Joe about it.”
In flannel shorts, Asher headed to the office where his suitcase was, and not wanting to disturb Big E in the guest room down the way, he motioned for Owen to follow him. “Did you hear anything from them?”
“Just that Joe said Derby Dreamer had a decent workout,” Owen replied.
Asher pulled a plain light blue T-shirt from his suitcase and yanked it over his head. “And yet you are here. So, what’s really bothering you?”
Owen set his hands on his hips and said, “My gut.”
“I keep telling Asher there are several perfectly fine bedrooms in this house to set up camp in,” Big E said from the doorway.
The older cowboy was already dressed in his usual jeans, button-down plaid shirt and well-worn boots.
He looked well rested and not the least bit fazed that the sun wasn’t even up and there was no coffee brewing.
Asher knew he could stand to learn more than a thing or two from the old cowboy.
As for those bedrooms, well, they belonged to Asher’s brothers.
Asher was fine where he was. Besides, he wasn’t there to make himself at home.
In the common space the trips down memory lane were more manageable.
But if Asher went down the brothers’ wing, he feared he might get lost in the past. “I fell asleep watching TV and didn’t feel like moving. ”
Big E frowned yet kept his thoughts to himself. He shifted to eye Owen as if taking the young man’s full measure. Finally, Big E asked, “What’s wrong with your gut?”
Owen touched his stomach.
“He’s got a feeling in it about Derby Dreamer,” Asher said when Owen remained silent.
Big E nodded and asked, “Are you sure it’s not indigestion? Got a spell of it myself. My wife told me I need to cut back on the homemade ice cream and pie.”
Asher knew a little something about cutting back. He needed to cut back on the time he spent with his chef. If only to make his goodbye easier. Selfish, certainly. But true, nonetheless.
“I told my wife she needs to taste Kelley’s food.” Big E chuckled and shook his head. “Then she would understand that her request is impossible to do.”
It also seemed impossible that Kelley was always on Asher’s mind. First thing on his mind when he woke up and last thing on his mind when he fell asleep. And on his mind every other minute of the day.
Owen frowned. “It’s not indigestion, sir.”
And it wasn’t anything serious for Asher, either. Nothing for him to be concerned about, really. It was admittedly more than a mild interest in a cowgirl. A passing interest to be sure. As in, it would pass when he left and returned to the city. At least, he hoped.
Asher ran his fingers through his hair and walked toward the bathroom. “Give me five minutes and then we’ll head to the stables.”
“Maybe it’s nothing,” Owen hedged. “Elliot didn’t seem all that concerned.”
“What did he say?” Asher asked.
“He told me Derby Dreamer was just adjusting to his new training schedule,” Owen explained. “And I would understand when I’d been here longer and had more experience with performance animals at this level.”
Perhaps. Yet, the concern on Owen’s face was genuine. Not only that, Owen proved he was capable and attuned to the animals over the past few days when Asher had been working closely with him.
“Clearly, your feeling is bad enough to have you out here waking us up when you should be sleeping,” Big E mused.
“No, sir, can’t ignore that,” Asher said and stepped into the bathroom.
Minutes later, they piled into Owen’s truck and drove to the stables.
Inside the twos’ stable barn, it was not Derby Dreamer that caught their attention.
It was Starcaster. The colt’s lip was curled, and he swung his head toward his abdomen as if to bite it.
Beside Starcaster, Kentucky Ember eyed his flank.
Asher was instantly alert. Unlike the others, Derby Dreamer kept his head down and stood still. Too still.
Asher had seen this before years ago in his mother’s favorite horse.
When Asher had been too young to understand.
His mom had been taking Asher for a ride, but they’d found her favorite mare rolling in the pasture.
And the afternoon took a bad, unforgettable turn.
Asher had not been able to help his mom or her horse back then. But he could do something now.
His gaze collided with Big E’s and Asher blurted, “Colic.”
Big E nodded and peered into the stalls across from Derby Dreamer. “We need Doc Julia.”
Asher pointed at Owen. “Get Doctor Eisler on the phone. Keep calling until she picks up.” Asher stepped into Starcaster’s stall and grabbed a lead rope. “Then get Edie. We need more calm hands.”
Owen greeted Dr. Eisler, set the call on speaker and handed his phone to Asher, before he rushed outside.
Big E and Asher worked in tandem, following Doc Julia’s instructions, moving from one stall to the next.
They recited vitals, pulse and breathing rates and checked coats for sweating.
Owen, Frannie and Edie arrived, and each got assigned the care of a horse.
Asher was leading Starcaster back into his stall after a slow walk when Doc Julia arrived and began checking on the horses.
Joe and his second named Elliot came into the stable barn not long after.
Neither one looked overly pleased. Asher did not have the time or patience to deal with their pique at not being called in sooner.
Doc Julia determined Starcaster needed to be taken to her veterinarian clinic in town as soon as possible.
Big E and Asher were occupied loading the colt into the trailer they attached to Walter’s truck as quickly and safely as possible.
Then leaving Doc Julia to tend to the other sick colts, Big E and Asher drove Starcaster into town.
A while later, with Starcaster in the hands of Doc Julia’s capable staff, Asher and Big E headed back to Walter’s truck. Asher was barely out of the clinic’s parking lot in town when his phone rang. He checked the name on the screen and answered, “Joe, tell us what you’ve found out.”
“It looks like it was a feed mix-up,” Joe said, his voice calm over the truck’s speakers. “As best Elliot and I can tell it was a delivery error. Elliot is already looking into it with Cedar Post Farm Supply.”
“That’s not our usual vendor,” Asher said. That much he knew from the invoices he had filed in Walter’s office from Hoof and Harvest Supply dated for the past five years.
“The special blend was on backorder at Hoof and Harvest,” Joe explained. “Elliot researched other supply houses nearby and found one with the feed blend in stock that we prefer.”
“That was lucky,” Asher allowed.
“I’m fortunate to have Elliot,” Joe said instantly. “Elliot has stepped in as if he’s always been here and hasn’t missed a beat. And I know it hasn’t been easy what with everything going on, but thankfully Elliot hasn’t hightailed it out of here yet.”
“What about the rest of the twos? Any news from Doc Julia?”
“Fortunately, Derby Dreamer, Foxhall Wind and Kentucky Ember seem to have milder cases of colic,” answered Joe. “Lucky, that. Their training can get back on schedule within a few days.”
“As long as Doc Julia clears them,” Asher cautioned. “Not before.”
The other end of the phone line was quiet. Finally, Joe said, his words serious and solemn, “Asher, you do realize what is at stake here, don’t you?” There was a rustling, then Joe spoke again. “You do know what we do. You haven’t been gone so long you forgot what made these stables.”
Racing built the stables. Racing was the reason. Asher ground his teeth together. “I know what’s on the line.” The stables needed wins. Quickly. Anything to help temper the looming doping investigation.
Joe continued, “Then you know full well why these horses must race in the Rising Star Classic this coming weekend.”
“I won’t risk any horse’s health or safety for a possible first place finish,” Asher said, his resolve firm and true.
“I don’t believe it’s your call to make,” Joe said evenly. “I have been here for the long haul. I know what is best for these horses and this stable.”
And Asher did not. That was implied. It might have been Walter talking now to Asher, so similar did Joe sound.
The truth was Joe was not wrong. Joe had been there while Asher had been away.
But Asher was here now. And like it or not, Asher had a stake in all of this, too.
“Let’s not make any decisions right now while we’re still in the thick of things.
We’ve got time to let the horses recover. ”
“Looks like we understand each other,” Joe said and hung up.
Asher understood Joe was not on his side.
“Don’t forget Joe is grieving,” Big E said into the silence inside the truck cab. “Walter was his best friend. He’s hanging on to what he has left.”
“I know,” Asher conceded and let go any lingering irritation. “And Joe is the only one other than my dad who knows the stables and the business inside and out.”
“True,” Big E agreed and shifted in the seat to look at Asher. “You might as well get out whatever is on your mind. Otherwise, it’ll pick at you worse than a mule with an opinion.”
“It’s not really my place,” Asher said. “I have not been here day in and day out. Not like Joe. Walter trusted him.” Asher was just as green and just as inexperienced as Owen by some measures.
“But you got a feeling,” Big E said.
Same as Owen had earlier. Asher nodded.
“Got one myself,” Big E murmured.
Asher exhaled. That weight on his shoulder lifted and his words came more freely.
“It’s just the doping allegations aren’t alleged anymore.
We know Pride was drugged and with what.
Now we have a feed mix-up that by coincidence happens to affect the only horses we intend to race this coming weekend. ”
Big E hummed. “Could be simple bad luck.”
“Could be,” Asher allowed.
“But your gut says different.”
Asher nodded. And if he had learned anything from Owen that morning it was to pay attention.
Big E asked, “By the way, where are you at with the financials?”
“Still waiting on those bank statements.”
In truth, Asher had not been in much of a rush to follow up with Valerie at Foxglove Bank and Trust. The more time Asher spent at home, the more he dreaded finding some inconsistency in the financials that might point at Walter and his possible guilt and downfall.
But there was another urgent reason now to clear Walter or call him out.
“In the meantime, it might be worth doing a little asking around about the feed supply,” Big E said. “Nothing too overt or obvious, mind you. We don’t want to stir things up over what might be an accident with the delivery.”
Accident being the keyword there. Asher and Big E talked for the rest of the ride back home about where to start and who to start casually questioning.
Both feed supply stores were their obvious places to begin.
By the time Asher drove through the stable gates, he was feeling slightly more optimistic.
He had been keeping his own counsel for so long, he had forgotten how gratifying it was to talk things through with someone he trusted.
Even more, Big E listened and offered wise insight without any judgment.
And the more Asher was around the older cowboy, the more he started to believe he was a part of something rather than just alone.
Asher was feeling a lot more assured than he had expected about being home.
Curious, he did not mind it as much as he thought he should.
Still, it was smart to keep his so-called feels in check.
Otherwise, Asher might follow one of those feels that made him consider a cowgirl and something like forever.
But what did a rusty heart like his know about a love like that?