Page 89 of Reckless Skye

‘You want me to run your horse?’ she asked.

TJ put both his hands on his hips. ‘Absolutely.’

‘What about your pickup schedule?’

‘They won’t struggle to replace me,’ he shot back, reiterating her earlier thoughts.

In a panic, Skye ran both her hands over her face. ‘This is crazy.’

‘Maybe. But you turning out here without the option of a horse change while you’re in first place means you’re going to lose your chance at at least six thousand dollars. That’s going to hurt, and we both know you can’t afford to skip races this early on if you want to get anywhere this year.’ When Skye didn’t reply, TJ added, ‘You know I’m right. The girls at the top qualify for the big rodeos with huge cash prizes; they can ride in as few as thirty events and still make the NFR. You don’t have that luxury. You have to make as many of the smaller rodeos as possible. Right now, Kai is your only hope of doing that.’

‘Agh!’ Skye closed her eyes as the frustration burst from her. But once she’d taken a deep breath, she held up one finger. ‘If Ford says Smokey can travel, we let her rest a day before heading west to Colorado.’

TJ nodded. ‘Deal.’

As he walked away to go and get the water Ford had requested, Skye stared at his back. The entire situation was crazy. Reckless. Stupid, even. So, she had no idea why, as she stood there with an injured horse and an insane travel schedule, a little flicker of relief spread through her.

The police took TJ and Skye’s statements and, with little to no information to go on, departed with a vague promise to look into the animal abuse case.

The event manager, Sharon, wasn’t so quick to let it go. She stood with TJ outside Smokey’s stall as Ford gave Skye the wound care instructions. ‘I’ll send the police all the video footage they requested, but I’ll go over it myself too.’

‘If you find anything, you call me.’ TJ took his phone out to give her his number and added, ‘Not Skye. She has too much to worry about already,’ in a low voice.

‘Okay.’ Sharon added his number to her phone. ‘I’ve posted two of my hands to do security checks at random intervals tonight. But this seems to be a singular incident.’

Because he knew Skye, knew that she wouldn’t leave Smokey’s side again, TJ replied, ‘We’ll bunk here tonight.’

‘If it was my horse, I would too.’ Sharon ran one hand tiredly through her hair. ‘Is there anything else I can do for you?’

‘Could you send us the turnout form for visible injury? And could I leave my truck and trailer here for a day or two? My dad can fly down and pick them up, drive them back to Arizona.’

Sharon nodded. ‘I’ll get you an extended parking pass. Send the turnout form back to me when you’re done, and I’ll confirm the injury with the secretary myself. That way, you don’t have to wait for her to come on over and check.’

‘Appreciate it.’

Ford and Skye stepped out of the stall. Where the vet looked calm and collected; the panic and shock had left Skye. In its place was a stormy rage that TJ felt resonating in the depths of his own soul.

He turned to Ford. ‘Can Smokey be hauled tomorrow?’

‘Yes. Actually, keeping her still for a few days wouldn’t be the worst thing for her,’ Ford replied. ‘Just make sure she stays hydrated while you’re on the road. And call me if she stops eating or if her temperature rises above 103. I’ve given Skye Smokey’s antibiotics. But even once she’s feeling better, it’ll take time for the skin to knit properly. Try to keep her relatively quiet so she doesn’t reopen the wound. Remove the stitches after fourteen days.’

TJ held out his hand. ‘Appreciate it, Ford.’

‘Anytime.’

‘Do we need to settle up?’

‘Skye took care of it already.’ He tipped his hat, said, ‘Ladies,’ to Sharon and Skye before walking off, his vet box in his hand.

Sharon said goodnight and left with the promise to send the turnout form within the hour.

Alone with Skye again, TJ turned to look in on Smokey. The mare was dozing on the drugs Ford had given her, her right back leg cocked, her neck hanging low.

Skye rested her forearms on the stall door next to him. ‘This isn’t something my father would typically do. He’s usually more subtle. The only times he hit me, it was because I retaliated or picked a fight with him.’

‘So, what does he gain by taking Smokey out?’

Skye shrugged. ‘I stop racing. Go back to Hunt Ranch.’