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Authors: Denise L. Wyant

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Wild Horses

BOOK: Wild Horses
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Wild Horses

Denise L. Wyant

Wild Horses

A Books to Go Now Publication

Copyright
©
Denise L. Wyant
2013

Books to Go Now

For information on the cover illustration and design, contact [email protected]

First eBook Edition –January 2013

Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously.

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Look for Other Stories by Denise L. Wyant

Tumbling in Time

Wild Horses

Georgia grunted as Mr. Biggis, her oversize Maine Coon cat, jumped on her chest, waking her. “Really, cat?” she grumbled before absently stroking his thick fur. Christmas morning: the holiday she had been dreading since her mother passed away nearly eight months ago. Georgia cracked an eyelid, checking the clock on her nightstand. Only five-thirty.

“Well, Mr. Biggis, what say you? Shall we get up and get moving?” The cat purred, all the while nuzzling her hand. Georgia decided that she would open the coffee shop today despite the holiday. She couldn’t bear sitting in the apartment alone. Maybe families travelling would need caffeine to get them through the day. Besides, there were always those folks who had to work despite the holiday— police officers and fire fighters. Maybe she would have some business after all.

Georgia moved her twenty-pound cat to another spot on the bed. Apparently, he didn’t appreciate her actions. Mr. Biggis bounded off the bed, likely headed to the kitchen for his breakfast. Her movements were unhurried as she got ready for the day. She finally made it to the kitchen to give the cat his scoop of food. Checking the clock, she realized she should hurry if she wanted to be open by six-thirty. She gave Mr. Biggis a quick pat before grabbing her keys and heading downstairs.

The chill of the morning air hit her as she left the stairwell and dashed around the corner to the shop’s door. After her mother died, Georgia sold the rustic adobe home they shared in the hills and moved into town. She used her inheritance to purchase the coffee shop and the apartment above it. Initially business was slow, but once people realized the shop was under new ownership—and that the coffee was outstanding—she soon accumulated a loyal following.

After flipping on the lights, Georgia lit the gas fireplace. As much as she wasn’t in the mood for Christmas music, she decided any brave souls venturing out might appreciate a festive atmosphere.

The first hour and a half saw Georgia enjoying her own peppermint latte while surfing the internet. She really needed to do inventory but couldn’t get motivated.
Hell, it’s a holiday. No need.
Deciding that the leather chairs in front of the fireplace looked a lot more comfortable than the stool she currently occupied, Georgia picked up her coffee mug and took a seat. She leafed through the current issue of
Outdoor Photographer
, scanning the new equipment reviews. Georgia sighed. She loved photography. In fact, the shop’s walls were decorated with her landscape prints. However, since her mother died, the camera had done nothing but collect dust. Her mom had been her biggest fan, always offering support and positive feedback. Now, she didn’t have anyone to fill that role.

The bell on the door tinkled, interrupting her thoughts. She stood and faced her customers with a hesitant half-smile, half-grimace. Her face lit with joy when she realized who called: Officers Vincent and Palmero of the Santa Fe PD.

“Merry Christmas, Officer Vincent,” Georgia said warmly.

“Come here, girl,” he pulled her into an affectionate embrace. The man was old enough to be her father and treated her like the daughter he never had. “It’s Harry, none of this formal Officer stuff.”

She grinned against his neck. Georgia knew he was divorced; she often wished he could have met her mother. They would have made quite the couple.

Stepping back, she asked, “Want your usual? I have some of that French Roast brewed you like so much.”

“That would be great.” He stepped aside, making space for the other officer.

“How about you, Manny? I can make that mocha raspberry latte you like.” She winked at him. He liked the frou-frou drinks and tried to keep it a secret from Harry.


Perfecto
, my little Georgia peach.” He too pulled her into a hug. The man was huge – both height-wise and muscle-wise. She guessed that he kept himself that way, given he was gay. No one would think of messing with the mountain of a man. “
Feliz Navidad, mi amor
.”

Georgia couldn’t help blushing. The man was a sexy tease. The first time he learned her name was Georgia, he started. She couldn’t help that her parents weren’t more creative and named her after the state where her dad was stationed while in the military. She had been a surprise pregnancy, but her parents loved her unconditionally. Her mom used to say she came at the perfect time. Georgia’s eyes filled with tears as she remembered her mom.

Manny’s dark eyes met hers. “Hey, no tears on Christmas.”

She brushed a hand under her eye, catching a stray tear. No, she wouldn’t cry. Her mother would be disappointed if she was upset. Georgia took a deep breath and changed the subject. “How about those drinks?”

“Yeah, about that,” Harry started, a wicked smirk curving his lips, “what’s with that girlie drink, Officer Palmero?” Harry punched Manny in the shoulder as he walked by.

Oh boy, here they go
. Georgia walked behind the counter to prepare their coffees.

“You’d just better watch, old man. I could kick your ass whether I’m drinking coffee that puts hair on your chest or something fruity.” Manny planted his feet shoulder-width apart and crossed his arms over his chest. Menace, although it was more playful than serious, radiated from his face.

Harry turned and studied the pose just a moment. He laughed heartily, “You’re absolutely right. It’s my job as your mentor to make sure you can. Don’t want you getting hurt once I retire.”

Manny let loose with a musical laugh, one that was at complete odds with the man. “Knock it off, Harry. You aren’t going anywhere.”

“You guys have time to stay and enjoy your coffee?” Georgia slid their cups across the counter.

“Sure do,” Harry answered while pulling out a stool at the bar. Manny sat next to him.

The conversation was easy and stayed away from the topic of Georgia’s mother. The men were complete opposites and enjoyed teasing back and forth. Their radios chirped; apparently duty called even on Christmas morning. Manny answered for the pair in a string of codes that meant nothing to Georgia.

She raised an eyebrow at Manny, waiting for an explanation. He shook his head, “Nothing major. Sounds like Van Morrison is harassing some tourists.”

Okay, that was as clear as mud
. “If you say so . . .”

Harry chuckled, “Van Morrison is a nickname we gave to a homeless guy. More often than not he’s intoxicated and being stupid. Thank goodness he’s harmless.”

“Ready, kid?” Harry asked.

Manny shot Harry a sideways look. Georgia wasn’t sure what it meant. Manny stood from his stool and asked, “Mind coming around here for another hug?”

Georgia shrugged. The men were usually affectionate, but this was more than normal.
Must be because it’s Christmas
. She walked around the counter to where they stood.

Manny reached into his jacket pocket and removed a plain white envelope. He handed it to her, grinning sheepishly. “Harry and I wanted to do a little something for you.”

She accepted the envelope, tears suddenly threatening. “You guys didn’t have to.”

Harry wrapped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “We know we didn’t, but we wanted to. Now, are you going to open it?”

She looked at Manny who just nodded. She carefully tore the back of the envelope. Inside was a handmade Christmas card. Georgia looked up, her eyes meeting Manny’s.

“I didn’t make it. That part was Chad’s doing.” Manny wasn’t shy about his relationship with his partner of five years; Georgia had met Chad on several occasions. She always chuckled. Chad was also an artist and his white blond hair and pale blue eyes were in stark contrast to Manny’s Latino features.

“I wondered . . .” she said. Opening the card, she saw a gift card for the local photography shop. It was for a hundred dollars. “Guys, this is too much. I . . . I can’t accept it.”

“Nonsense,” the men responded in unison, which left them both laughing.

“Chad is cooking and baking up a storm while I’m working today. You’re welcome to have dinner with us.”

“Yeah, you should join us,” Harry echoed. She knew the men were close. Manny and Chad looked out for Harry. “You know I can’t cook so I’m in charge of the drinks.” Harry grinned.

Georgia gave them a watery smile. She never expected these men to become two of her closest friends. It’s funny, she mused, you certainly find out who your friends are when faced with tough times. They often aren’t who you expect. “Thank you,” she murmured, “I’ll think about it.”

Manny pulled a card from his pocket and scribbled something down. He handed it to her. “Even though you should already have it, here’s my cell number. Call and let me know what you decide.” He pulled her in and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Dinner’s at six. You know Chad; there will be more than enough food. Just bring yourself.”

Manny released her and followed Harry to the door. Before he stepped outside, he looked back over his shoulder, “We better see you there!” The two men were gone, taking their lightheartedness with them.

A bit later in the day, Georgia’s closet girlfriend, Felicia, called to check on her.

“Girl, what are you doing working on Christmas?” Felicia asked. She continued before Georgia could answer. “You should come out to the ranch. We’re having eighteen for dinner.”

“Thanks, girl, I appreciate it.” Georgia paused. While she liked Felicia’s family, she wasn’t in the mood to be around a lot of people. “However, Manny and Chad invited me to their place for dinner. I’m going to head over there for a bit.”

“Oh, okay,” Felicia sounded disappointed but said, “at least you won’t be alone.”

Georgia explained about the gift card and the need to do something for her friends. Felicia’s positive response made her smile. It even got her thinking when her friend suggested photographing the wild horses outside of Placitas.
That sounded like a damn good idea!

“You know, I like it! Sounds perfect!” Georgia’s excitement for photography was rekindling.

Felicia responded happily, “There you go!” The rest of the conversation was cut short when Felicia’s husband needed help with the preparations.

After she hung up the phone, Georgia phoned Manny to let him know she would be there for dinner. She couldn’t help but smile at Manny’s excitement. She even heard Harry in the background, cheering at her decision. Simple things may excite her friends, but it left her heart filled with warmth to know how much they cared.

****

Much to Georgia’s surprise, the next week flew by. Shoppers were out in force; her coffee business had record sales. Between making drinks and selling beans, she didn’t have time to think about her mother. In fact, she was so busy; the tempting gift card had to wait.

****

The following Thursday dawned, cold and snowy. Georgia was getting antsy to try out the new equipment she’d purchased the day before. Of course, she just couldn’t buy a lens at the shop — she splurged on other accessories. At the rate the flurries fell, there would be snow lying in the foothills. She needed to get out and see the horses in the next couple of days.

Georgia called Felicia’s older sister, Lucy, to see if she would man the shop for a bit in the upcoming days. Lucy had been laid off from her office job when the firm downsized, and happily agreed to watch the shop for Georgia.

Saturday morning, Georgia loaded her camera equipment into her Subaru Outback. She was thankful for the car’s all-wheel drive; the roads were covered with snow the closer she got to the mountains. She pulled onto the wide shoulder and grabbed her tripod and the backpack with her camera. She hiked over the rolling terrain until the wild horses came into view.

Maybe I need to listen to Felicia’s ideas more often
, she thought. This was perfect! The lighting and the mountains would make for some great photos. The horses clearly enjoyed the snow, galloping to and fro, tossing their heads as though they were trying to catch the snowflakes. She grinned as she snapped photo after photo. The horses didn’t seem to fear her intrusion and came closer. A particularly dark brown horse with a white diamond on its nose appeared to be posing for her.
These shots are going to be awesome!

She clicked away, grateful she’d loaded the larger memory card. After about an hour, she hiked closer to the mountains. A dilapidated wood fence caught her eye. She switched lenses and took several landscape photos. Georgia chastised herself. She shouldn’t have put the camera away after her mother’s death. She truly felt alive, photographing the animals and the landscape.

Movement at the near end of the fence caught her eye. A man stood there, holding a child while feeding a carrot to the brown horse. She hadn’t realized anyone else was nearby.

Georgia focused on the pair through her telephoto lens. The man held the carrot and spoke to the horse. The child stayed still in his arms. She took a couple shots and then studied the man. His light brown hair was flecked with snowflakes. Warm brown eyes shone with delight. His chiseled jaw was covered in fuzz. He looked down at the child and adjusted his brightly-colored hat. Whatever he said to the boy caused him to throw back his head in laughter. The horse snorted and stepped back a couple of paces. Georgia found herself jealous of the delight the child experienced.
Must be nice to be young and not be jaded by life’s pitfalls.
The little boy made a perfect subject. His eyes danced with glee as his mittened-clad hands tried to catch the snowflakes.

A couple of the other horses approached the man and boy. The man carefully set the boy on a sturdier section of fencing, allowing him to face the horses as they approached. The man leaned down and whispered in the boy’s ear and then handed him a carrot. The boy held it out to one of the horses. Georgia couldn’t believe her luck. These pictures might be the best she had ever taken. The man’s smile was amazing as he watched the child. It changed the look of his face. The lines of concentrated determination were replaced by joy and delight. His look made Georgia envious. She remembered the days when her face shone with happiness. However, those days were long gone. Now, her face likely radiated loneliness and the underlying grief.

Upset with herself for begrudging the pair their happiness, she packed up her gear and headed to the car. The snow flurries stopped and the dark sky had brightened. She’d no sooner closed the hatch, than a warm voice asked, “Do you have a minute?”

Georgia jumped; she hadn’t heard the man approach. She placed a hand over her heart. “You startled me. Can I help you?”

The man held out a gloved hand. “I’m Jonathan Marker and this is my son Aiden. I saw you taking our picture.”

Oh no. Hopefully this guy wasn’t going to demand she delete them. Some people got aggressive if you photographed them without getting their permission first. She smiled, “Nice to meet you. I’m Georgia Adams.” She shook his outstretched hand. “I hope you don’t mind. You made the perfect subjects.” A little flattery never hurt. “You are both very photogenic.”

The man grinned. His smile was mesmerizing. All those perfectly straight, white teeth framed by thin pink lips. They looked very kissable. “Thanks for the compliment. That’s a new one.” He tickled the boy through his thick jacket. “Hear that Aiden? We’re some handsome guys!” The boy squealed, enjoying his father’s attention.

No humbleness with that one. He knew exactly how easy on the eyes he was. “Good, I’m glad you don’t mind.” Georgia nibbled on her bottom lip, not sure what else to say. The man’s presence was definitely having an effect on her.
Very odd, Georgia. You haven’t noticed any member of the opposite sex in over a year, since before Mom got sick.

Jonathan cleared his throat, “I don’t mean to be too forward, but is there any way I can see some of the photos you took?”

Georgia’s eyes strayed to his glove-covered hands. Surely a man like this had to be married.
Wait a minute, girl, why do you care? Are you finally ready to get back to living? Could someone like this be worth leaving your funk behind?
“Sure, I wouldn’t mind. Although, you can’t get an idea scrolling through them on the camera.” She paused before asking, “Do you have an email address? I could send you the better ones.” At the last minute she added, “If you guys live close to Santa Fe, you could stop by my coffee shop.”

“We actually live in Rio Rancho. My dad watches Aiden for me when I work.” He patted his jeans’ pockets with his free hand. “I could give you my email if you have something to write on. I don’t have anything with me.”

Interesting. If Jonathan’s father watched Aiden, maybe there wasn’t a wife in the picture.
“Sure. Hang on a sec.” Georgia walked around to the passenger’s side door. Jonathan followed. She opened the door and rummaged through her purse, finally locating a business card. She turned and handed it to him, “My email’s on there. Why don’t you write me, and then I’ll respond with the pictures?”

He turned the card over in his hand. Aiden grabbed for it. “No, son, Daddy needs this.”

BOOK: Wild Horses
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