Whirlwind (12 page)

Drawing up her knees, Jas wrapped her arms around them. Shadow bent down and blew at her hair. She reached up and stroked
the white stripe that ended with a dot. “Thank you, buddy,” she whispered. “For helping me break the curse.”

Outside, a car door slammed. Jas startled, banging her head against the stall wall. Wincing, she rubbed the bump already forming. No wonder she was jumpy. Ever since meeting Hugh in the courthouse, she’d felt his eyes peering from every dark corner. Felt his fingers squeezing her neck.

Rubbing her throat, she tried to erase him from her mind. He was still after her, that she knew.

It was stupid of her not to have said something to Ms. Baylor. Maybe Hugh hadn’t acted on his threats, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t.

Chase’s voice came from outside. It was late afternoon, time to turn out the horses. He was talking to George about which horse went in which pasture.

Jas held her breath as the two came into the barn. She didn’t want to see George or Chase. She wanted to stay hidden in the stall, Shadow’s bulk safely between her and the door. Because, if she was honest with herself, Hugh wasn’t the only thing she was worried about. Last night, she’d helped Grandfather change
into his pajamas. It had taken forever—he’d insisted he could do it himself, yet couldn’t. And she’d been all thumbs. Finally they’d given up on his buttons and he’d slept in his cotton T-shirt. By then, he’d been so exhausted and Jas so frustrated she’d forgotten about helping him wash his hands and brush his teeth.

Then this morning, when she went in to wake him, he was lying so still she’d thought he was dead. No, worse than dead: paralyzed and unable to care for himself for the rest of his life. Fortunately, he’d only been sound asleep. But guilt had instantly swept over her. What kind of granddaughter was she? Grandfather had taken care of her for fourteen years. He’d nursed Grandmother when she was sick. Couldn’t she lovingly do the same for him?

Except if he couldn’t work at Second Chance Farm, what would happen to them? What would happen if he had another stroke? Miss Hahn couldn’t afford to keep them on as charity cases. Jas wouldn’t stand for that, anyway. It had been bad enough being a foster kid.

“Hiding?” someone asked.

Jas jumped as if Hugh had opened the stall door, knife in hand, instead of Chase carrying a lead line.

“I didn’t know I was that terrifying,” he said.

“You could have warned me,” she snapped as she pushed herself to her feet, angry for being so skittish.

“It’s not like I was sneaking around.” He pointed a thumb down the aisle. “You didn’t hear me cussing up a storm? George left the supply room door open, and Rose snuck in and tore open a feedbag.”

“No, I didn’t.” Grabbing the end of the lead line, she tugged on it.
“I’ll
turn Shadow out.”

“You don’t need to bite my head off.” He tugged back.

Jas bristled. “Are you talking to me or Shadow?” She yanked harder.

Chase studied her hand on the rope; her knuckles were white. “Are you looking for a fight?”

“No.” Stepping back, she let go. “Sorry.”

“Sure you are.” He tossed the lead line at her and strode from the stall.

Jas kicked Shadow’s bucket.
Darn, darn, darn. Why do I do that?
Hooking the lead onto Shadow’s halter, she hurried after Chase, who was leading Jinx from the barn. Outside
the door, Hope was curled in a pile of raked up straw. Jas almost tripped over her. Shadow missed her tail by an inch. The little dog didn’t budge.

“Chase? Wait.” She caught up to him at the pasture gate. He’d already turned out Jinx, who was trotting off.

“I didn’t mean to yell at you,” Jas said as she led Shadow into the pasture. “It’s just that—”

Shadow reared back, eager to be with Jinx. The lead line ripped through her fingers. He raced after Jinx, the rope flapping. “Shoot!” she swore as she ran after him, hollering, “Whoa! Whoa!” But he flew down the hill, out of sight.

Stopping, she blew out a frustrated breath. There was no use chasing him. He’d think it was a game of tag that he wasn’t going to lose.

She turned. Chase was leaning back against the closed gate. His arms were loosely crossed. His grin was crooked and, she thought, a little sad.

Jas strolled over, fingers shoved in her front pockets. His grin widened as if he’d shaken off the hurt. “What’s so funny?” she asked.

“You are, horse girl.” Chase jutted his chin
toward Jinx and Shadow, who had stopped to graze at the farthest possible spot. “You handle
Equus caballus
as well as you handle
homo sapiens
.”

“Look who’s flinging out scientific words to impress.”

“No need to impress someone who’s already doing a good job of screwing up.”

Her mouth fell open. “That was a mean thing to say.”

“You deserve it.”

“All right. I do.” Jas flopped back next to him. “I had an attack of the Hughs. I’m sorry. I know that’s no excuse for snapping at you. But I keep expecting him to pop up, match in hand, and burn down the barn.” She frowned. “Why
isn’t
he skulking around trying to destroy us?”

“How do you know he’s not?”

“I don’t. That’s what’s so freaky.” She shuddered, suppressing the urge to glance over her shoulder.

“Let’s hope he’s lying low, letting his lawyers do the dirty work,” Chase said.

She rubbed her bare arms, which prickled with goose bumps as if it was a winter day. “No. He’s planning something. I can feel it.”
Just then, Shadow came thundering over the hill. He slid to an ungainly halt in front of her. His nostrils flared and he puffed dramatically.

Reaching up, Jas unsnapped the lead line. “Thanks for not killing yourself, dummy.” She gave him a quick pat before he wheeled and raced off again.

As she stood there, she could feel Chase’s eyes on her. Self-conscious, she scraped the toe of her sneaker in the dirt. When she realized she was outlining a heart, she panicked and scuffed it out.

Still he didn’t say anything. What was he thinking? Was he still mad? Jas wouldn’t blame him. She had no right to be mean to her friends. Make that
friend
, singular. Chase was her only real friend.

That’s not true
. Miss Hahn, Dr. Danvers, Grandfather—all three had stuck by her through this mess. Still, they weren’t Chase.

Jas glanced sideways at him. He was still watching her, his gaze intense. As if he could see into her heart. As if he knew how scared she was.

“What?” she asked, wanting to sound tough, but it came out in a whisper. She cleared her throat, her pulse beating fast. His eyes
were crystal blue and his smile breathtaking.
No fair
, she wanted to tell him.
Stop making me like you
.

Then he shrugged, his reply to her question. She swallowed hard, trying not to look away. But her insides were fluttering, and she flicked her gaze back to the horses.

“I was just wondering,” he finally said. Straightening, he turned and lifted the gate latch.

Wondering what? Wondering if I like you?

“If I were James Bond”—he held open the gate for Jas—“and Hugh was Goldfinger, how would I take him out? Bomb his Mercedes? Poison his scotch?”

She stopped in her tracks. Here she’d been resisting acting like a lovesick fool and he’d been channeling James Bond. “Only you’re
not.”
She punched him on the shoulder. “And Hugh is a real villain, not some movie actor. So come on. We’ve got a barn full of horses to turn out. And when we’re done with the horses, let’s take Hope back to her old home. I’m tired of seeing her moping around. We need to find her friend.”

She strode brusquely toward the barn, all thoughts of romance gone.
Guys are so clueless
. But then she realized her step was lighter.

Lucy came out of the barn, leading Flower. When they passed each other, she said, “Hey, Jas, who was the lady I saw you talking to? The one wearing Jimmy Choos?”

Jas felt a prickle of apprehension. Why was Lucy interested in Ms. Baylor?

“What’s a Jimmy Choo?” Chase asked.

“She’s just some filthy-rich donor that Miss Hahn is courting,” Jas said quickly. “Come on, Chase, we’ve got to feed Rose before she busts down the fence.” Linking her arm through his, she pulled him into the barn.

He stopped in front of the supply room. “What was that all about?”

“About Lucy being too nosey.” Jas unbolted the door.

“You can’t possibly think that Lucy …” He burst into guffaws. “Right—the Mata Hari of the cheerleaders.”

Jas shot him an annoyed look. “I’m just being careful, okay? Even the investigator, Ms. Baylor, said to be cautious. She’s worried Hugh will find out, too. And you have to admit, Lucy’s spending a lot of time on Mill Road with all the rich folks. Maybe she really
has
gone to the dark side.”

“Lucy?
She’s more
Gossip Girl
than
Goldfinger
.”

“You know, Chase, the James Bond stuff is getting really lame. So quit.” Flinging open the door, Jas scooted inside. “I’ll feed the chickens. You feed Rose.” She pulled the top off a feed tub and began scooping cracked corn into a bucket. When Chase didn’t say anything, she glanced over her shoulder.

The doorway was empty. Straightening, she listened. No whistle, country song, or corny jokes came from the aisle, either.

Jas wanted to kick herself. She’d acted like an idiot again. If only she could make Chase understand that it wasn’t
him;
it was the worry. Grandfather, Hugh, the farm, Whirlwind. It was eating her up inside.

And not even James Bond could help.

“DONATIONS ARE WAY DOWN,” MISS HAHN TOLD
the circle of volunteers who were gathered in her living room that evening. She was seated in the rocking chair, a ledger and file folder on her lap. To her right, Lucy and Chase sat on the floor on either side of an open pizza box. Rand, Mr. Muggins, and Dr. Danvers were lined up on the sofa, pizza slices in hand as they ate. Grandfather sat on a love seat.

Jas was hunched on the footstool, her chin propped on her bent palm. “Pizza?” Chase offered. She hoped it meant he’d forgiven her for her earlier bad mood.

“No thanks,” she said. Miss Hahn had told her what this meeting was about, and it had ruined her appetite.

“We’re spending twice as much for hay,” Miss Hahn went on. “The grass isn’t growing
in the pastures. No one’s adopting—folks can barely afford their own animals. So right now, we have too many mouths to feed.”

“What about your big donors? Clark’s Feed, Tom’s Grocery, and Stanford Hardware?” Dr. Danvers asked. “They’ve been regulars for years.”

Miss Hahn glanced at the open ledger in her lap. She tucked a graying strand of hair behind her ear and then looked up. Her whole face sagged.

Jas knotted her fingers. She’d never seen Miss Hahn so upset. So defeated. Usually her former foster mom was a bundle of optimism. She had learned to stay positive in order to handle case after case of abuse.

“They’ve suddenly chosen not to support us,” Miss Hahn said quietly. “And today when I called the Stanford Grill, they told me they were withdrawing support as well.”

Murmurs of disbelief rose in the room. But Jas wasn’t surprised. This was Hugh’s way of retaliating, she bet. He’d discovered that the insurance company was going to prosecute. He knew they were looking for Whirlwind.

Jas crossed her arms over her stomach, the smell of the greasy pizza making her nauseous.
I can and I will destroy Diane and her precious farm
. Hugh wasn’t going to burn down a barn. He wasn’t going after Jas with a knife. He was cutting off all donations. The farm and the animals she loved would never survive if funds dried up.

We can’t let Hugh ruin us!
Jas wanted to shout to the others. But who would believe it was his fault?

She listened to the conversations going on around her. Dr. Danvers and Grandfather were blaming the drop in donations on the slump in the economy. Miss Hahn and Mr. Muggins were blaming it on the drought and the price of feed. Jas swallowed a laugh. Not even the weather was as powerful as Hugh.

Okay, a foolish exaggeration
. But Jas had lived at High Meadows farm for four years. She’d witnessed the influence he had in Stanford. His relatives, friends, and employees shopped at Tom’s Grocery and Stanford Hardware. They dined at the Stanford Grill and bought their feed from Clark’s. Jas couldn’t blame the businesses for stopping their donations. They couldn’t afford to alienate Hugh.

The voices grew heated as suggestions and accusations flew. Jas wanted to plug her ears.
She wanted to flee from the room. Instead, she sat frozen on the footstool.
No more running away
.

Suddenly, Chase dropped down beside her, bumping her with his hip. “Scoot over.”

“There’s no room,” she said as she slid toward the edge.

“There’s room.” He stuck his long legs in front of him. Pizza sauce dotted his lower lip. Jas pointed it out and he licked it off with a dart of his tongue.

“Sorry about this afternoon,” she apologized.

He shrugged. “No problem.” Leaning closer, he whispered, “Hey, you don’t think—”