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The throbbing in his ankle increased in intensity. He gritted his teeth until it was nearly unbearable. “Would you mind stopping for a minute?” Wiz stopped and turned toward him, holding Strawberry firmly. “I’m going to put my left leg over Strawberry’s neck and see if that will help.” She nodded. He carefully drew his left foot out of the stirrup, leaned backward, and clamped the back of the saddle while he moved his foot up and over Strawberry’s neck, laying the side of his calf on her neck in front of the saddle horn. The horse shivered, but Wiz didn’t let her toss her head.
“Okay, I think I’m set.” Not sure the position helped a lot, but it was better than it was. “Wow, this is awkward. How in the world did women do this in skirts for all those years?”
Wiz didn’t say anything, just shook her head. “Not very talkative, are you?” She just shook her head again. So, what non-threatening thing could he talk about? She knew the road was private; she might be the new owner of the recently sold house. The forbidding security fence would match the person he saw in front of him. “I’m guessing you’re the new owner of the big house at the top of our road, right?”
She looked back at him sharply, and Strawberry shied again. He clenched the saddle horn. Wiz grasped the reins right behind the bit, keeping her under control. For somebody who didn’t know horses, she had some good moves. “Thanks. I really didn’t want to end up thrown again today.” He gentled his voice as if he were talking to a foal. “I’m sorry if I startled you.”
She looked up, and her hood fell back, fully revealing her face. Wide set gray eyes with thick, dark lashes and black eyebrows slashed across a heart-shaped face, her skin a few shades darker and warmer than his pasty white. No makeup, but she didn’t need it. She was pretty in a fierce way, reminding him of a manga warrior princess. She’d be stunning if she smiled, but she carried sadness along with the caution. “Why do you think I must be the new owner?”
Tom shrugged. “Marcus is a pretty safe place, but there’s a brand-new chain-link fence around the house, and from the looks of all the hardware you’re packing, I’m guessing you take security seriously. You match the house rather well.” He smiled, trying to reassure her, but he was pretty sure it didn’t help.
“Yes. It’s mine.” Her frown smoothed.
“Then you’re new in the area?”
“Yes.”
“I could tell you something about the area if you’d like?” Hopefully, she’d feel safer if he talked, and he really wanted to put her at ease.
“Thank you.” She turned away and stepped forward, but stopped. Strawberry didn’t want to move.
He nudged the stubborn horse with his right heel. She blew out a big sigh and plodded ahead. He told Wiz about the Bitterroot Valley and the history of the area, then about nearby trails and the trails on the west side in the mountains. Then he started on the West Fork of the Bitterroot River, Nez Perce Pass, and the Magruder Corridor, and by then, they were at her house. “I think you’re probably safe to leave me here. I can get back down to the ranch on my own.”
She looked at his ankle and frowned. “I didn’t like the looks of that ankle. You need an x-ray.” She handed him her cell phone. “Call. Make sure someone can take you.”
He dialed the ranch number, but no one answered. Then he called his dad’s cell, but he didn’t answer either. But Dad left his cell at home most of the time, the source of another argument. It wasn’t safe for the older man, or anyone, to be out on the ranch without a means of communication; he’d just proven that. “Shoot, I can’t get a hold of anyone.”
“I’ll take you to the hospital. We can leave the horse in the fenced area.” She walked down her driveway, Strawberry’s hooves clip-clopping on the asphalt.
Didn’t look like he had a say in the matter. “Uh, okay. You don’t have to do that.”
“I know.”
At the outer horse fence, she entered a code into a lock on a big green metal ranch gate, and it swung open soundlessly. Strawberry tried to jump again, but Wiz must have anticipated her reaction because she had a firm grip on the reins. They continued down the drive, and she opened a metal box mounted on the fence post and punched in a code. The chain-link gate slid out of the way with a rattling jerk, but the mechanism was surprisingly quiet. “You must have really top-notch installers.”
“Yes.”
Tom wondered what she’d done in the military.
She led Strawberry to the side of the house. The garage held four post-and-beam style wood garage doors with matching human entry doors on both ends. She entered a code on yet another panel, and the first garage door opened to reveal the rear doors of a tall white panel van.
Huh. Not what he would have expected. She should have a fully armored Humvee.
Wiz pulled a set of keys out of her pocket, and the van beeped. Strawberry tried to jump again, but Wiz controlled her and led her to the back of the van and opened the back doors. The right side held a long bench seat with a thick cushion, a metal shelf above holding plastic boxes and a shorter, fold-down metal bench on the other side with a sink and stove above additional shelves holding more plastic crates. All of the supports were plain, dark metal, shiny on the corners where welds had been smoothed. A homemade RV? Very interesting. The woman was interesting, period.
“I think you’ll be able to step off of the horse and lie down on the bench.”
“I think you’re right. But then, I’m beginning to learn you usually are.” She led Strawberry in a circle, around to the end of the van, but the horse didn’t want to get close to the scary vehicle. “Use your knee or elbow, and jab it up into her side a little.”
He hung on to the saddle horn, and she goosed Strawberry. Sure enough, she sidled over, snorting a bit. He took his right foot out of the stirrup and twisted, sitting sideways on the saddle. He slid off, landing on his right foot. Hanging on the doorframe, he turned on his toe and collapsed on the seat. Whew. “If you put Strawberry’s reins over her neck and loop them loosely around the saddle horn, so they can’t come down and trip her, you could set her loose in the horse fenced area. I can send someone up to get her later.”
“It may be a while. Would it be better to take the gear off?”
Strawberry would be more comfortable, but wearing the saddle wouldn’t hurt her. “Yes, but I don’t want to trouble you.”
Wiz led Strawberry to the chain-link fence. She opened the gate again and walked up the drive. After a quick look under the horse, she raised the stirrup, unbuckled the saddle, and put it on the fence rail next to the gate. Then she unfastened the bridle and hung it over the saddle. Extremely efficient for a novice.
Strawberry put her head down and grazed, undoubtedly thrilled to have a big pasture to herself with lots of fresh grass. Wiz returned, her short but quick strides closing the distance fast, and closed the van’s back doors. She hopped into the driver’s seat. She must have left her backpack, and his rifle, in the garage. She backed the van out and drove steadily up the drive. She didn’t click standard garage door openers or use her phone for the garage door or the fence; she must have an automatic door opener in the van.
