Lies by Kathryn Jane

Author:Kathryn Jane
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: hope second chances taking chances risking everything, under $5 canadian author story in canada security forces comedic heroine cat safehouse organized cri, horse racing cat rescue horse switching Thoroughbreds like dick francis mysteries, kickass heroine alpha hero, paranormal abilities ETCETERA revenge telepathy, exciting twists and secoondary plots meyers family meyers security
Publisher: Kathryn Jane
Published: 2015-10-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

At an Oregon farm under the pretense of viewing a stallion as a potential mate for his broodmare, Jake studied a picture of Bamptonian. Topping out at over seventeen hands, he was bigger than most Thoroughbreds—and as plain as they come. Just brown.

On the desk between Jake and Bonnie—the horse’s owner and manager—were also dozens of photos of foals with one glaring similarity. No matter what their color, they all had long white legs and bold white face markings. “Interesting to have a plain colored horse throw so much chrome,” he said.

“Odd for sure and nothing in his heritage to account for it. He didn’t have a white hair on him until his age started to show with a few grey ones like the rest of us.”

She didn’t have many, and he guessed her age to be north of fifty. “Have you had him long?”

“Since he was three, so eleven years. Poor guy was in a paddock sale because he couldn’t outrun a fat man in gumboots. We go now and again to find good horses to flip.”

“Is that profitable? To retrain and sell racehorses?”

She shrugged. “That depends if we’re lucky enough to pick up a horse that’s uber talented. There are currently two ex-racehorses on the national jumping team and several on the international event circuit, including one of ours. But because we give away the failures to good homes, we’re happy to break even.”

“So you saw Bamptonian and bought him as a jumping prospect?”

“Yes. Turned out he had no more ability over fences than he did on the track. But because of his size and great temperament I bred him to my own mare—she’s on the small side—and was amazed when the foal was born. Big and leggy with white markings from here to breakfast and back. Word-of-mouth spread and he found himself a new career breeding for size and chrome.”

“Could I see him?”

“Of course.”

They went through a long barn and out to a large grassy field. The big rangy beast strolling toward them stopped, lifted his head high, and blew out a breath. It was more of a whistle than a snort, and it had Jake hesitating. “You said he had a great temperament, but that sounded like a challenge.”

“He’s distrustful of strangers, especially men. We believe he may have been abused at some point in his life.”

“At the racetrack?”

“No. I’m sure what he endured wouldn’t have happened in that environment—race-trackers worship their horses. Our vet thinks it was probably when he was a foal, or possibly an early yearling, as there’s no record of issues when he was being broke, and the healing would have taken months. His tongue was nearly severed, and there’s a great deal of scarring on the inside of his mouth as well.”

“How sad.” The horse advanced across the field, and once within about fifty feet, his head came up again and his nostrils flared. Jake removed a small piece of terry cloth from his pocket and used it to wipe his hands.

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