Authors: Catherine Anderson
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #General
“
That
,” Parker spat, jabbing a rigid finger toward Rosebud, “is not a
horse
. It’s a dwarf. I can’t believe you took it into a drugstore and let it shit on the floor. Our reputations as trainers are on the line, and our livelihoods as well! Do you get that?”
A lot more was at stake than their reputations as horse trainers, namely the public’s perception of minis as service animals, but Zach decided that saying as much would be tantamount to tossing a lighted match into a gas can. His shoulders ached from the long day he’d put in, mucking out stalls before daybreak, spending the morning and early afternoon working with his big horses, and then turning his attention to Rosebud. He was in no mood for this. Facing his brothers when they were pissed off was like looking at three mirrors and seeing his own glowering reflection in all of them. The old man’s sperm produced Harrigan carbon copies. Even their sister, Sam, looked like Frank, the family patriarch.
“Here’s how it goes,” Zach said. “You do your thing; I do mine. I may be the kid brother, but I’ve been shaving for years and I even go to the can by myself. If I want to train a guide horse, I don’t need your permission
or
your approval, so get off my case.”
“We bear the same last name,” Quincy barked. “We’ve worked our asses off to build sterling reputations. When one of us makes an ass of himself, it reflects on all of us. People were laughing at you. That sorry excuse for an equine crapped on the floor. Some trainer you are, and people are going to be thinking the same about us.”
“Hell, the next thing we know,” Parker inserted, “he’ll be taking the damned thing into the house! It’s just not dignified.”
“I’ve already taken her into the house.” Zach felt a surge of malicious glee at his brother’s horrified expression. “Guide horses need outdoor time just like big horses, but they also need time indoors with their human companions. They learn to fetch toys for exercise. They eat pellets from a dish and Timothy hay from a bin. In the city, some are even trained to go in a litter box. Rosebud is completely housebroken. She hasn’t had an accident in over a month. I don’t know what happened with her today.”
Zach’s brothers gaped at him, and then they started to laugh, not just chuckles, but the wrenching kind of mirth that made strong men go weak at the knees. Clint braced a hand on the fender of Zach’s SUV. Parker hooked an arm over his middle, his shoulders shaking so hard his face went red. Quincy threw back his head and roared.
“Housebroken, hell,” Parker said with a gasp when he could speak again. “Ask old man Gliddon at the pharmacy if she’s housebroken. Does she sleep in bed with you, too?”
“Fetching toys ...” Quincy swiped at his streaming eyes and aimed a brotherly poke at Zach’s arm. “You should train her to fetch you a cold beer, little brother.”
When their mirth subsided, Clint settled his hands at his hips. As the oldest, he’d always been the one Zach looked up to the most. Anger smoldered in his dark eyes as he met Zach’s gaze. “Can you even start to explain why you decided to do this?”
Zach guessed they hadn’t caught the first part of the news footage. But when he started to speak, Clint cut him short. “You’ve always been the hellion of the family,” he ground out, “a daredevil without a serious thought in your head. We’ve waited patiently for you to finally grow up, and we’ve pretty much turned a blind eye to the womanizing and barhopping and bad decisions, even when you ended up in the hoosegow. But, damn it, Zach, this time you’ve gone too far. This tops stupid and goes beyond crazy.”
Zach wondered if his brothers weren’t right. Maybe he’d lost his mind. But then he glanced down at Rosebud and remembered why he had embarked on this mission. Rage welled within him, burning low in his belly and crawling up his throat. And part of his rage, he knew, was mixed with guilt, because what they said about him was true.
“Point taken,” he retorted. “I’ve been a flake a lot of times. But did it ever occur to any of you that maybe, just maybe, my decision to do this was a turning point for me?”
Obviously, it hadn’t. That comment sent Parker and Quincy off into further spasms of mirth. Only Clint, narrowing his eyes, surveyed Zach’s taut features as if he were giving serious consideration to what he’d heard. He rubbed the back of his neck.
“Turning point? What the hell? Are you saying you’re going to quit training cutting horses and go for these dwarves full-time?”
Zach shook his head. “Do you want to hear what I’ve got to say, or do you want to stand around and laugh like hyenas and poke fun at something you don’t understand?”
His brothers fell quiet, their expressions a mixture of solemnity and bewilderment.
It was Zach’s turn to point the finger, and he did so with a sharp thrust at the air. “You’re all so damned sanctimonious. You’re looking down your noses at me so much of the time, you can’t see what’s happening right before your eyes. Two years ago, I finally grew up, but none of you noticed. When I was working with the dog trainer every night, where did you think I was, off screwing women or taking up space on a bar stool? Did you ever once bother to
ask
what I was doing every night? Hell, no. You saw my truck coming in late and figured it was just Zach, up to no good again.
“Well, if that’s what you thought, you were dead wrong. I haven’t had time for women. I’ve been too busy earning my bread and butter while trying to do something meaningful with my life. Maybe you’re satisfied with breeding and training prize horses, raking in the dough, and living high on the hog, but I want to ... to contribute.”
“Contribute? Contribute what?” Quincy blinked. “You sent in a damn big donation to the Justin Cowboy Crisis Fund last year.”
Zach shook his head. “That’s not what I mean. I’ve done well with quarter horses. We all have. I’ve got no quarrel with that. I love breeding and training the best, and I always will. But I want to do
more
—” Zach broke off and gestured with his free hand. “What’s so damned wrong with wanting to make someone else’s life a little better?”
Zach’s brothers said nothing, just stared at him as if they were waiting for his words to start making sense. At least silence meant he’d snagged their attention. He plowed ahead. “Two years. Two frigging years I worked my ass off, learning everything I could so I might do this. Now you want to flip me shit? Well, you can shove it where it’ll never again see daylight. The people these guide horses are going to help will never see daylight again. Ever. Think on that. Blindness isn’t fussy, and it strikes every day. People are blind, and service animals make things a little easier for them. Go home to your wives and your cushy little lives and your small-mindedness. I have better things to do than argue with you about my choices.”
Quincy rubbed a hand over his face and blinked. “I don’t have a wife.”
Zach shot him a searing look. “That’s all you’ve got to say, Saint Quincy? When was the last time you slept with a woman?” He turned the burn of his gaze on Clint and Parker. “Neither of you is without sin, either. Married now, and doing everything right, but there was a time when you didn’t. Maybe I screwed up longer than you, but that sure as hell doesn’t give you a free pass through the pearly gates.” He tugged on the halter handle. “Come on, Rosebud. The company around here is starting to stink.”
As Zach turned to walk away, Clint spoke. “Hold up there a minute, little brother.”
Zach glanced back. “Why? So you can chew my ass some more? Forget it. If you want a piece of me, make like a frog and jump on it. Otherwise get off my land.”
Clint jerked off his hat, then plopped it back on his dark head. “Give a man a second, all right? I’m trying to figure out how to apologize.”
“That’ll be the day,” Zach sneered. “You never say you’re sorry. You damned near choke on the words.”
Clint settled a thoughtful gaze on the tiny palomino. Typically of him, he bypassed saying he was sorry. “A horse is a horse. I don’t guess size really matters.”
Like Clint, Parker had to fiddle with his hat before speaking. It was a trait of the Harrigan brothers, handed down to them by their father. “Clint’s right. It’s a horse, and maybe we were out of line to get all fired up. It’s just ...” He looked to Quincy for help.
“We were just shocked to see you on the news, especially when everything went wrong like it did,” Quincy said. “Okay, so maybe all of us initially thought you were doing something harebrained again. It’s not like this would be the first time. And you sure as hell could have given us a heads-up before you took her out in public.”
Zach clenched his teeth. An inability to apologize without flubbing it up was another Harrigan trait that he was not happy to share with his brothers.
“Scratch that,” Quincy quickly added. “
Harebrained
wasn’t a good choice of words. I meant ...” He shot a look at Clint. “Your turn, big brother. I’m mangling it.”
Clint sighed and kicked halfheartedly at a clump of grass. “Like I’m a slick talker?”
Parker took a second stab at it. “We didn’t understand. About this being so important to you, I mean. It’s not like none of us has ever messed up with a horse in public. Shit like that happens—no pun intended.”
“That’s right,” Clint agreed. “We’ve all messed up a time or two. What you’re doing makes some sense, now that you’ve explained. Any man worth his salt has moments when he wants to do something more with his life, something that’ll really count.”
Quincy nodded. “If you can train that”—he broke off and swallowed hard—“
horse
to assist a blind person, hats off to you. It really might make a huge difference in someone else’s life, and that’s a commendable intention.”
Zach wanted to cling to his anger, but it dissipated as quickly as it had come, and with it went the stiffness in his body. “It wasn’t a momentary urge that came over me. The idea took hold and wouldn’t turn loose. Do you think I
enjoyed
cleaning up horse shit in front of a camera? Whatever went wrong with Rosebud in that pharmacy threatens the future of
all
guide horses. What if that footage goes to the syndicates?”
All three of his brothers looked horrified at the prospect.
“Sweet Lord,” Quincy said, “let’s hope not. The whole world will think we’re a bunch of crazy fools.”
Parker studied Rosebud, his mouth twitching at one corner as he struggled not to smile. “I gotta say, though, she does kind of grow on you. Rosebud, huh? Once the wife sees her, it’ll be all over. You know Rainie. She’ll fall madly in love, want one for herself, and I won’t have it in me to tell her no.”
Zach’s heart twisted because he was still stuck on the pharmacy incident and how it might affect public opinion of guide horses overall. “Yeah, well, maybe you can adopt one of the minis that may soon be banned as service animals because I fucked up.”
“That won’t happen,” Parker rebutted. “And if it does? We’ll donate to a pot and lobby like hell to get the decision reversed.”
Clint nodded. “Count me in. She is cute. Loni will probably want one, too.” He rolled his eyes. “First thing we know, we’ll have midget horses everywhere.”
“The proper term is
miniatures
,” Zach said. “They aren’t dwarves or midgets. They’re a recognized and respected equine breed today. Rosebud is a blue-ribbon champion, and she cost me a pretty penny.”
Clint shrugged. “Okay, I got it.”
“No more wisecracks, then,” Zach warned. “She’s a horse, just like every other horse on this ranch, except that she’s much smaller and a lot smarter.”
“Smarter?” Parker scowled. “Smarter than a
cutting horse
? Bullshit.”
Zach sighed. Parker was never going to wrap his mind around this idea. “No bullshit, just fact. I’ve never seen a horse learn as quickly as she does.” Zach bent to stroke Rosebud’s fluffy forelock. “In another six months, she’ll blow your socks off.”
“She scarcely comes up to the tops of my socks,” muttered Parker. “But hey, okay. I’m on board.”
Zach’s brothers ventured forward to pet the mini. Quincy glanced up questioningly before he touched her. “Is it okay? I heard you say on TV that contact isn’t allowed.”
“Only when she’s working,” Zach replied. “Go ahead.”
Quincy hunkered down to get at Rosebud’s eye level. After searching the mini’s gaze, he muttered, “I’ll be damned. She really is a horse, blind spot and all.”
Clint laughed. “A horse is a horse.” He went down on one knee to run his hands over the palomino’s legs, then leaned back to give her body a long study. “She’s got beautiful conformation, perfection in miniature.”
Rosebud nuzzled Parker’s thigh for petting. Parker laughed and scratched behind her ears. The mini angled her head sideways and leaned into his fingers. “Just like any other horse, a hog for affection.” He looked at Zach and extended his right hand. “Are we good? Apologies accepted?”
Zach shook with him, and then said, “Oh, to hell with it,” and hooked an arm around his brother’s shoulders to give him a hug. “Apologies accepted, you hardheaded ass. Just remember, from now on big horses aren’t the only game in town.”
“Apparently not,” Parker conceded. “Just do us a favor and try not to embarrass us again when cameras are pinned on you.” As he drew back, he playfully slapped Zach’s shoulder. “Has it really been two years since you’ve been to bed with a woman?”
Zach laughed. He and his brothers were tight, but Zach’s encounters with females, no matter how rare in recent months, needed to remain
private
. “Let’s just say sex is no longer my mainstay in life.”
Quincy and Parker exchanged skeptical eye rolls, and Clint grinned. “If you’re going to train a guide horse, don’t do a half-assed job of it. Turn it into another coup for the Harrigan clan.”
“I will,” Zach promised. “At least, I’m going to try. It’s no easy task to teach her some of the things she has to learn.”
“Like what?” Quincy asked.
“Leading me around overhead obstacles, for one. She’s short, so I have to teach her to watch for stuff I may hit my head on.”
Quincy shot the little horse a startled look. “Are you shitting me?”