Deadly Revenge (Pearl River #3)

Chapter 27

27

Jenna swallowed hard. Max had been about to kiss her. She didn’t know if the pounding in her chest was from disappointment or relief that he hadn’t. Or maybe she just imagined his intentions.

“This isn’t getting your horse caught.”

Gruff voice. Stiff shoulders. No, her first impression had been right. He’d almost kissed her. Jenna started to climb into the SUV and hesitated. “You really don’t have to go.”

He drew in a breath and released it. “I want to. At the precinct, you used to talk about getting a horse, and I’d like to see what you finally chose. But let’s take my truck. That way you can rest on the drive over.”

Jenna eyed him.

“It’s only a suggestion, and it’ll give me an opportunity to learn the county better—I don’t retain directions as well when I’m a passenger.”

True. “Sounds like a good deal for me. Let me grab my boots.”

“Good.”

She grabbed her riding boots and tossed them in the passenger side before she climbed into his pickup. Max jogged around to the other side, and once she changed into the boots and buck led up, he started the engine and pulled to the end of the drive. “Which way?”

“Left. We have to go through town.”

Other than Jenna giving Max directions, it was quiet in the pickup. Max wants to see Ace. The thought kept chasing itself and made her excited and nervous at the same time.

It was getting hard to fight the connection that had been arcing between them since yesterday morning.

Nuh-uh. Not going there. Besides, after what happened with Phillip, she’d promised herself she would never get involved with a cop again. A fireman maybe, but not a cop.

But Max was a great guy. Then again, Phillip had been a great guy too. Until he wasn’t. And she’d never picked up on the shady part of his character until it was too late.

“Which way?”

His question jerked Jenna from her thoughts. They were approaching a crossroads. “Turn right.”

Her phone rang, and she answered. It was her trainer, apologizing for having to cancel their lesson for tomorrow that Jenna had totally blanked on.

“No problem,” Jenna said. “See you next week.”

Max glanced at her as she disconnected.

“My trainer cancelling our lesson tomorrow. I forgot she was coming.”

“You’re serious about your riding.”

“I am. I found this trainer while I was still in Chattanooga. She’s a retired Olympian dressage trainer. But she’s not my first trainer—years ago when I was a teenager, Sam was my trainer.”

“Sam?”

“My uncle. You’ll probably meet him tomorrow at Granna’s.”

“So you’ve been riding most of your life?”

“Yep.” Thank goodness they were back on a comfortable plane. “You know girls and their horses.”

The sign for Bryan Bishop’s Red Oak Stables came into view. “We’re here. Pull through that gate and park anywhere.”

He did as she said and parked near the red barn. “Do you see your horse?”

Jenna anxiously scanned the fenced paddocks for Ace. “Over there.” She pointed to the middle paddock. “See the boy with a bucket in hand?”

“The one the horse is ignoring?”

“Ace doesn’t want to go in his stall. He needs to work some of his energy off.”

“You’re not going to—”

She shot him a warning glare.

“Never mind.”

“Thank you,” she said and removed her service gun. “Since there are usually kids around, I don’t normally wear my gun when I’m at the barn.”

He nodded and removed his and locked them both in the gun safe under his seat while Jenna climbed out of the truck.

“Nice place,” Max said as he joined her. “I grew up on a farm like this.”

She shot him a skeptical look. “You don’t seem the farm boy type.”

It was strange she didn’t know that about him, but then most of their conversations had been work related.

“Well, I am. Wouldn’t mind having a spread like this someday.”

Jenna glanced around the property. Eagle Ridge rose up to the west, a beautiful backdrop for the two-story house, barns, and workout arenas. On the other side of the barn, horses grazed in two lush pasturelands carved out of the dense woods bordering the property.

“It’s a nice place.” She pointed to the main barn. “Ace’s stall is there. I’ll grab his halter.”

Max inhaled a deep breath through his nose as they walked to the main barn.

“I never get tired of smelling the scent of hay.” Then he laughed. “Unless it was halfway through a hot August day out in the fields when I was throwing those square bales on the trailer behind the hay baler.”

She groaned. “I know what you mean.”

Her uncle had conscripted her to work in the hay fields every summer, and it was hot, itchy work.

He followed her inside out of the sun.

“I’ll be right back.”

She hurried to Ace’s stall and grabbed his halter. “Be right back.”

“You want me to help?”

She dropped her gaze to the ground. “You’ll mess up your shoes.”

Kirk turned when she entered the paddock. “Miss Jenna, I’m sorry. He got out when I put hay in his stall. When I tried to catch him, he ran in here.”

“It’s okay.”

Ace nickered when he heard her voice. She took the grain bucket from Kirk and rattled it. The horse tossed his head and trotted in the opposite direction.

He wanted to play hard to get. She put her forefinger and thumb to her lips and whistled. Abruptly the horse’s demeanor changed, and while he didn’t trot over to her, he did walk. At least the months she’d worked getting him to come when she whistled worked. She slipped the halter on. “You’ve been a bad boy.”

He nudged her with his head.

“Don’t try to make up now.” She patted his sleek black neck.

“How’d you do that?” Kirk asked.

“By whistling ... and hours of working with him.”

She led Ace to the barn with Kirk following. He peeled off at the gate.

“Granddad said I could ride my four-wheeler once Ace was up.”

“Go ahead, and thanks for calling.”

Max met them at the entrance to the barn.

“Impressive,” he said as they walked by.

She blew on her fingers and rubbed her shirt.

“Not that impressive.”

Jenna laughed, hooked Ace in the crossties, and grabbed a hoof pick.

Max rubbed his forehead. “Beautiful horse.”

“Thank you.” She cleaned each hoof and then grabbed a brush and ran it down Ace’s sleek ebony neck. The horse nuzzled her hand. “Sorry, no carrot yet.”

“What is he, sixteen hands?”

Jenna eyed Max. “You’re close. Sixteen-two.” Most people didn’t typically know horses were measured in hands—four-inch increments—from the ground to the withers at the base of the mane. “How did you know?”

He studied her. “What part of ‘I grew up on a place like this’ did you not believe?”

What was wrong with her? Max had never given Jenna reason to doubt him. But then neither had Phillip. “Sorry, force of habit.”

“So I’ve noticed,” he said quietly.

An uncomfortable silence followed until Ace nudged her with his nose then stamped his foot. “You want exercise, don’t you, boy. Just give me a minute.”

“You’re not riding now, are you? You’ve had a long day.”

“I feel fine, and if I don’t work off some of Ace’s energy, he’ll kick the wall half the night. I won’t ride long, just enough to tire him a little.”

Max looked as though he wanted to say more, but he turned to the horse instead. “He looks like a warmblood. Hanoverian?”

“No, Dutch Warmblood. He was given to me.”

“Really? How did that happen?”

Jenna brushed Ace’s neck again. “My uncle was good friends with the owner, Hank Thomas—they served in the Gulf War together and stayed in touch even though Hank lived in Chattanooga. When he had a stroke, Sam recommended that he let me take over the horse’s care, which included riding—this was after I recovered from the shooting. It saved my sanity.

“Unfortunately, Hank never recovered enough to ride again, but sometimes he came out to the barn to watch us work dressage tests. When he died, he stipulated in his will that Ace went to me, and I brought him with me when I came home.”

“That was nice of him,” Max said. “Is your uncle still a trainer?”

Jenna nodded. “He works at another barn here in Pearl Springs, training young riders.”

Max frowned. “Your uncle is a trainer, but you use someone else?”

“It’s ... complicated. Don’t get me wrong—Sam’s a great trainer. He’s worked around dressage and jumping horses most of his life. Even had aspirations of competing in the Olympics.”

“It sounds like he didn’t. What happened—” He winced. “There I go again, prying into something that’s none of my business.”

“It’s all right.” She rubbed Ace’s nose. “I’m afraid he let alcohol destroy his chances of competing.”

Max nodded sympathetically.

“It hurts to think of what Sam could’ve been if he’d stayed away from whiskey. And for the record, I did ask him to work with me when I came home, but he said I needed to stay with the trainer I had in Chattanooga. She lives halfway between Pearl Springs and Chattanooga, so it’s not a long drive for her.”

“What’s your end goal?” He grinned at her. “I know you have one.”

Max asked hard questions. At one time she’d had aspirations of competing in the Olympics, but that was back when she’d been young and confident. Brash even. And definitely goal oriented. If she set her mind to do something, fait accompli . Done deal. Failure wasn’t an option. That’s the way she’d been raised.

Jenna hadn’t been prepared for her life going off the rails like it had after the shooting. Phillip’s betrayal and her superior’s support of him had undermined her confidence. Her trust level was a minus ten, and that extended to every aspect of her life, including her riding.

“Right now? It’s getting to the next level.” Under her trainer, Jenna’s confidence was growing, as was Ace’s. She stroked his muscled neck just as Max reached to do the same, their hands connecting.

Her world shifted.