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Trail to Justice

By Susan Page Davis

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Ruby Dale let her palomino gelding, Lancelot, canter across the prairie toward home. They’d had a good workout—twenty miles plus, but Lancelot was still ready to go. In two weeks, he’d demonstrate his mettle at the Wyoming 100 competitive trail ride, but she knew without that proof that he was at the peak of condition. Both were more than ready for the hundred-mile ride.
This was what she loved—getting out away from the claustrophobic atmosphere at home and her stressful job at the police station, alone with her horse. The burnished gold palomino had given her many hours of comfort in the last few years. If only Julie were riding beside her.
She was about to pull Lancelot down to a walk to cool him off when he stumbled. Ruby flew forward onto his neck, clutching desperately at his mane. She slid down his shoulder a bit and tried to push herself upright as the horse recovered and found his footing again. Too late. Her center of gravity had shifted too far.
“Whoa, boy,” she called as she slipped down his side. She tucked her head and landed hard on her left shoulder, rolling quickly away from the horse’s hooves. For a long moment she lay panting in the dry grass assessing her pains. Nothing major. Good thing, or her parents would have fits and forbid her to ride alone, even though she was twenty-four and well into adulthood.
Slowly she raised her head. Lancelot had halted and stood shivering a few yards away. She rose stiffly and stretched out her limbs. Nothing broken, but she’d have some colorful bruises by morning. She hobbled to the palomino’s side and stroked his withers. “Are you all right?”
She grasped his reins and urged him to walk forward. Lancelot gave a decided hop to avoid putting weight on his off front hoof. Ruby ducked under his neck.
“Let me look, fella.” She bent to lift his hoof, and Lancelot raised it for her. “Oh, man. Lost a shoe.” She surveyed the chipped horn around the edge of his hoof. “I was going to have the blacksmith come next week, but I guess we need to get him over here sooner.” She sighed. “I hope you’re all right.” She unbuttoned the pocket on her denim shirt and pulled out her cell phone. Her father insisted she always carry it on her long rides, and though she sometimes felt a bit smothered, this time she was grateful.
“Hey, Dad? It’s me. Lancelot threw a shoe.”
“What? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I don’t think he’s hurt, either, but I’m going to walk him home. We’re only about a mile out.”
“Let me come get you.”
“No, really. We’re okay. We’ll just take our time.” She glanced down at the palomino’s feet. He was holding his right front foot off the ground.
“Where are you?” her father asked. “I can hitch up the trailer and come after you.”
“Well. . .Okay. Maybe that would be best. We’re near the Danbridge Road.” She looked around. “Maybe half a mile past Simpsons’.”
“Okay, I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Thanks. We’ll get up to the edge of the road.” She put the phone away and patted Lancelot’s neck. “Okay, boy. Let’s go.”
She led him slowly through the grass, and Lancelot kept pace with only a slight limp. Still, it was enough to worry her. Would it keep him from entering the ride two weeks from today? She opened her phone again and keyed in the number for the veterinary clinic. Dr. John Hogan, the senior doctor in the practice, answered.
“Hi, Dr. Hogan. This is Ruby Dale. My horse threw a shoe and I wondered if you or Dr. Sullivan could possibly look at him. We’re training for a competitive ride, and I don’t want to keep exercising him if it’s going to hurt him.”
“Sure, Ruby. Let’s see, Chuck is off today, but I’ll give him a buzz and see if he’s able to stop by. If he can’t, I’ll come over in about an hour. Is that all right?”
“It’s perfect. Thank you.”
She pocketed the phone and resumed the walk up to the roadbed. By the time she and Lancelot climbed up the grassy bank, a cloud of dust in the distance told her that her father was on his way.

[SB]

The veterinarian’s pickup rolled into the driveway half an hour later. Ruby hurried out to meet him, surprised after what Dr. Hogan had told her that it was Dr. Chuck Sullivan responding. Not only that, but his truck was pulling a horse trailer. Lancelot seemed to have recovered his animation, and he trotted back and forth in his paddock and whinnied. An answering neigh erupted from the trailer.
“Hi! Thanks for coming on a Saturday,” Ruby called as Chuck got out of the truck. She’d managed to skirt the issue of her own fall, and her parents were satisfied that she was all right. If they’d thought she was injured, Mom and Dad would be out here watching her like a couple of hyper-vigilant hawks.
“No problem,” Chuck said. “This actually worked out well for me. I was just on my way home from a long ride. I took Rascal up to the hills this morning.”
Ruby glanced toward the trailer. “Rascal is your horse? I didn’t know you had one.”
Chuck grinned, clearly pleased with his mount. “Yeah, I got him last spring. He’s an Appaloosa. I’ve been riding him a lot, and we’re starting to get comfortable with each other. Want to see him?”
“Sure.” Ruby followed him to the rear of the trailer.
Chuck lowered the back door that made a loading ramp. The horse’s well-muscled haunches were a snowy white, flecked with dark spots in a flamboyant blanket pattern. Chuck climbed the ramp into the empty side of the trailer, and Ruby followed. Her pulse accelerated as the horse whinnied again and tossed his head.
“Easy, now.” Chuck stroked the gelding’s cheek.
“He’s beautiful.” Ruby reached out to pat the warm, dark withers. “How old?”
“Seven.”
“Perfect.”
“Yeah,” Chuck said. “I figure he’s the prime age for endurance riding.”
“You’re getting into distance riding?” Ruby looked up eagerly into his brown eyes.
“I sure am. You know I’ve volunteered for a couple of years at the Wyoming 100, and I’ve been jealous of the riders. I decided to let someone else man the checkpoint this year and compete myself.”
“That’s great.” More than great, Ruby thought. “I’m riding, too.”
“Terrific. Lancelot and Rascal will get to know each other.” Chuck gave Rascal a soft slap on the neck and turned away.
Ruby swallowed hard and looked out toward the paddock. “That is, I’m riding if Lancelot’s foot is okay.”
“We’d better take a look. Dr. Hogan said you had a little mishap?”
She nodded. “Yeah, we were loping across a field, and Lancelot threw a shoe and stumbled. He limped a little at first, but now that he’s had a short rest, he’s putting weight on it again. I probably got you out here for nothing.”
“Let’s hope you’re right.”
Ruby hated to end the moment of camaraderie, but she edged over to the ramp and walked down it. Chuck stopped at his truck to retrieve his on-the-road medical case. “Okay, do you want to hold him while I examine him?”
“I’ll put him in the cross ties.” Ruby went to the paddock fence, where Lancelot waited eagerly, his muzzle over the top of the gate. She grabbed his halter and swung the gate open with her other hand. The palomino walked meekly beside her into the barn and let her hitch him securely in the alley between the stalls, with a rope clipped to the rings on each side of his halter.
“Looking good so far. I can’t even tell which leg.”
“Oh, it’s the right front.”
Chuck ran a hand down Lancelot’s off foreleg and lifted his hoof. “I always know I’ll see a healthy horse when I come here, Ruby.”
“Thank you.” She stood by Lancelot’s head and scratched beneath his forelock.
“How’s your training for the ride going?” Chuck asked.
“Good until today. We’ve been doing ten miles or so mornings, and one longer ride on the weekends.” Calm down, she told herself. She sounded like an eager twelve-year-old. She shrugged with a little laugh. “I’m starting to believe we’ll be able to finish.”
“Sure you will.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “We did two fifty-milers last year, but this will be our first 100.”
“Well, it’s my first long ride, too. But the woman who owned Rascal had been training him for a while before I got him, and I think he’s ready.” Chuck turned to his medical case and got out a file. “I don’t feel any swelling or hot spots on his leg. I’m going to smooth this hoof up a little so he doesn’t chip it any worse before the blacksmith comes.”
“Thanks,” Ruby said. “Dad called him, and he said he’ll come Monday. I won’t ride Lancelot tomorrow.”
“That’s wise.” Chuck bent over the horse’s hoof again. “Still working at the police station?”
“Yes.”
“How’s that going?”
“I love it,” Ruby said, “but I’ve been putting in a lot of hours lately. They really need to hire one more dispatcher to fill out the schedule.”
“Cutting into your riding time?”
She nodded. “Some. I’ve had to pull a few double shifts lately while the officers were out chasing cocaine dealers. That doesn’t happen often, though.”
“I hope not. I imagine they want their dispatchers to stay alert.”
She’d liked Chuck since she’d first met him three years ago. Okay, more than liked him. But she’d tried not to make it too obvious. Perhaps as a result, she’d never had a chance to get to know him well. The older veterinarian, Dr. Hogan, had brought Chuck on board in his practice to handle the large animal part of the business. Chuck had quickly become a favorite with ranchers and horse enthusiasts. Whenever he came to tend to Lancelot—which was only a couple of times a year—she got to spend a few minutes chatting with him, and then spent weeks going over the conversation in her mind.
He set Lancelot’s hoof down gently and patted his shoulder. “I really don’t see anything wrong. Why don’t we wrap this overnight? You can call me if he’s limping tomorrow.”
“Okay.” She held the halter firmly while Chuck got out a bandage and wound it around the horse’s pastern and cannon. Lancelot nickered, and Ruby stroked his long, smooth cheek.
“All set.” Chuck stood and smiled at her over Lancelot’s withers.
Right there. That smile. That was what put her in a dither. Last year they’d both attended a picnic for the volunteers working at the Wyoming 100. That was when she’d first begun to imagine that Chuck liked her, too. But she’d been so busy all winter, and her horse was so annoyingly healthy, that their paths had only crossed a few times since. He’d given Lancelot a complete checkup in the spring, before she began intense training for the 100-mile ride, and she’d seen him twice over the summer—once at a horse show, and again in the foreign foods section of the grocery store, of all places, where they’d discovered they both loved Chinese food.
“I guess we’re done.” Chuck was still smiling at her, as though he almost wished there were more to do at the Dales’ house today.
“Great. That’s a gorgeous Appaloosa you’ve got, Chuck. I hope you have a good time at the ride.”
“I expect I’ll see you there.”
“Yeah, I guess you will.” Brainless comment. Why couldn’t she come up with something better? She unsnapped the cross ties and led Lancelot out to the paddock. When she had let him go and closed the gate, she turned and saw Chuck standing by his pickup. She walked over, her pulse fluttering at the thought that he was waiting to speak to her again.
“Hey, I was thinking.” He looked off toward the hills and laughed. “Something I do now and then.”
“Really?” She couldn’t help laughing, too.
“Yeah. And I was wondering why we couldn’t do a training ride together sometime. Assuming Lancelot’s none the worse for his little incident today, I mean. I want to take Rascal for a nice long ramble in the hills—say thirty or forty miles.”
“That would be a great warm-up for the 100.” She bit her bottom lip. He’d just asked her to spend a day with him. She felt the heat climbing her cheekbones. “It would be fun.”
“That’s what I thought. We did twenty this morning, but Rascal needs a few longer practice rides.” He eyed her for a long moment, and she waited. “Could you do it next weekend, if your horse is all right?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Great.” There was the dazzling smile again. Ruby had to look away. “I could come by with the double trailer, and we could drive up toward Powder River and start our ride there. What do you think?”
“Fantastic. It would give Lancelot and me some new scenery to look at. How about if I pack a lunch?”
“Sounds good. But be sure to tell me if there’s any problem with Lancelot. We don’t want to take any chances with him.”
“I will.” She hoped desperately that Lancelot wouldn’t show any signs of pain tomorrow.
Chuck nodded and opened his truck door smiling.
Ruby watched him drive out and waved as he pulled onto the road. Chuck waved back. She exhaled and looked over toward the paddock. Lancelot was rolling, all four feet thrashing as he flopped back and forth on the turf. Ruby went over and leaned on the fence. “Did you hear that? We’ve got a date next weekend.”
Lancelot rolled to his stomach and pushed himself up, front end first, then his hindquarters. He shook his head and shuddered all over, sending dust and bits of grass flying from his coat then pranced over to the fence and whinnied.
“You big baby.” Ruby scratched his forehead, beneath his white forelock, and looked down the road in the direction Chuck had driven. She turned back to the horse. “I can’t believe he finally asked me out. And for a trail ride. Does it get any better than this?”

[SB]

Chuck pulled into the yard at the Dale home early the next Saturday, anticipating an enjoyable outing but at the same time a little nervous. He hadn’t dated anyone seriously since moving to the area, although several women had tried to snare his attention.
Seeing Martin Dale sitting in a rocker on the front porch didn’t help. It struck Chuck that Ruby’s father was watchdogging his daughter’s social life—and Chuck was cast as the suspicious intruder.
“Good morning, Mr. Dale,” he called as he exited the truck.
Ruby’s father stood and came to the top of the porch steps, holding a white china mug. “Morning, Dr. Sullivan.”
Chuck smiled as he walked toward him. “Please, call me Chuck.”
“All right then. Ruby says you’re going riding up in the hills today.”
“Yes, sir. We’re both training for the Wyoming 100, so I thought we could give the horses a workout together.”
Mr. Dale nodded, his eyes slightly narrowed. “I suppose you know the trails up there.”
“Not very well, but they’re clearly marked.”
“Well, Ruby’s a good rider.”
“I’m sure she is, sir.”
Mr. Dale grunted and sipped his coffee.
“I assume Lancelot is all right,” Chuck said. “Ruby said on Monday he seemed fine.”
“Yes, she babied him for a couple of days, but she was saying last night he seemed right as rain.”
“Great. Uh. . .is Ruby ready to go?”
“She’s in the barn. You had breakfast?”
“Yes, I have. Thank you.”
Her father nodded again and jerked his head toward the barn. “She’s been out there for an hour. That palomino must be shiny enough so’s you can see your face in his hide.”
Chuck laughed. “She takes good care of him. Every time I see Lancelot, he looks like a pampered and contented horse.”
“You’ll watch out for her?”
“Of course.”
“I suppose I sound like a meddling old nanny, but we don’t know you very well, Doc.”
Chuck gulped and tried not to let his smile slip as he took a step closer to him. “Sir, you don’t have to worry about Ruby with me.”
Their gazes locked for a moment, and her father pursed his lips. “All right, then. Call me Martin.” He shifted his coffee mug and extended his right hand. Chuck shook it solemnly, determined to live up to the implied promise.
Measured hoofbeats behind him told him that Ruby and Lancelot had emerged from the barn. He turned just as Rascal let out a piercing whinny from within the trailer.
“Hi,” Ruby called, holding the lead rope firmly as Lancelot tossed his head and nickered, his ears pricked toward Chuck’s rig. The palomino’s rounded flanks really did gleam in the sunlight. Ruby looked ready to hit the trail in faded jeans and a blue-and-white striped T-shirt, topped by a denim jacket. Her glossy hair was caught back in a braid.
“Good morning. How’s he doing?”
“He’s fine,” Ruby said. “Eager to go.”
As Chuck walked around to lower the ramp on the trailer, Ruby’s mother pushed open the screen door and came out of the house to stand beside Martin.
“Hello, Dr. Sullivan. I thought I heard you drive in. You two are getting an early start. Or should I say, ‘you four’?”
Chuck laughed. “You’re up early yourself, Mrs. Dale.” It wasn’t quite seven, the time he and Ruby had agreed on.
“It’s hard to sleep in on Saturday when you’re up early all week.” She smiled at her daughter. “Want me to bring out your lunch cooler, honey?”
“That would be great, Mom.”
Chuck reached for the lead rope. “I’ll load him, unless you want to.”
Ruby surrendered the lead, and Lancelot whickered, spewing a few drops of saliva on Chuck’s shirt. Chuck spoke to him and patted his neck, and the horse went calmly up the ramp with him. A moment later, Lancelot was secure beside Rascal, who pulled his head around as far as his tie-up would allow to inspect the newcomer.
Chuck left the trailer and found Martin ready to help him swing up the ramp. Ruby and her mother were settling a soft pack in the back of his pickup.
“I’ll get your tack,” Martin said and hurried to the barn. He returned with Ruby’s saddle, blanket, and bridle, which Chuck stowed next to his own gear in the truck bed. They all said goodbye, and Chuck rounded the front of the truck with Ruby, to open the passenger door for her. He realized how short she was—not quite up to his shoulder. He offered his hand for a boost up. She glanced up at him with a quick smile, took his hand, and pushed against it for leverage as she swung up into the cab.
On the way to their destination, Ruby was very quiet at first. As soon as he he’d checked in his mirrors to be sure the trailer was rolling smoothly, Chuck looked over at her. “Thanks for coming. Sometimes I get kind of lonesome on the trail with nobody but Rascal to talk to.”
A dainty dimple appeared at the corner of her smile. “Thanks for asking me. I usually ride alone now, and my folks worry about me.”
“No kidding.”
She laughed at his ‘could have fooled me’ tone. “Yeah, they’re afraid Lancelot will dump me somewhere and come back with an empty saddle.”
“Well, some parents are a little overprotective.” He glanced at her again. Her expression had gone sober.
“I guess they’re allowed,” she said. “I keep telling myself I need to move away from home and get a life, but I love Mom and Dad. And I know they’d miss me.”
“Are you an only child?”
She hesitated. “I am now.”
So. That explained a lot of things. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. They rode along in silence for a few minutes, and he was sure he’d put his foot in it.
As they passed a horse ranch, Ruby caught her breath. “Oh, look!” Several yearling colts raced each other across the broad pasture, heads held high and tails flying.
“I was out there a couple of weeks ago,” Chuck said. “One of the mares was lame.”
“I envy you.” Her eyes were gentle brown, almost golden.
He looked away, straight ahead, but he could still picture them. “Why is that?”
“You get to work with animals, and you must be outside a lot on the job.”
“Yeah, sometimes when I wish I could stay home. Rain, sleet, or snow, I’m out there.”
She chuckled, and his heart lurched. Her momentary sadness had passed, and she was ready to embark on a lighter thread of conversation.
“At least you have an interesting job.” He hoped she would continue to talk. He liked the quiet flow of her voice.
“Yes, I admit it’s not dull. But I sit there for hours with headphones on, taking calls. Fender benders, domestic disputes, prowlers, shoplifters. We get to take breaks, but sometimes it’s so busy I forget. I usually go out of the police station on my supper break, though, just for a change of scenery and to stretch my legs.”
“That’s a good idea for people with sedentary jobs.”
She nodded. “Yeah. But since I work from four in the afternoon until 2 a.m., it’s dark out at suppertime after we turn the clocks back.”
“You get off at two o’clock in the morning? That’s a long shift.”
“Yeah. I do four “tens” a week. The officers are good about escorting us to our cars when we change shifts, so the security part of it doesn’t bother me. Sometimes I get sleepy toward the end, though, and then I have to drive home late. But I do like having most of my days free. I can ride for an hour or two just about every day, and more on my off days.”
“I hear you. It’s been hard for me to carve out the time, but I love riding.”
They’d reached the foothills. He pulled in to a grassy place off the road. Two other vehicles were parked there, one with an empty ATV trailer behind it.
“I’ll bet the horses will be glad to get out and have a look at each other,” Ruby said.
Chuck smiled at that and tried to imagine being tied up in a trailer beside a stranger and having to ride next to him. He got out of the pickup. Ruby met him at the back of the rig, and he put the ramp down. When the owners unhitched them, both horses backed swiftly down to solid ground, whinnying to each other. Chuck showed Ruby where to tie Lancelot securely. He hooked Rascal to a rope on the other side of the trailer, and they both saddled up.
“Did you want to take the lunch along or come back here for it?” Ruby asked when the horses were ready. “I put everything in a small insulated pack to keep the drinks and things cold, but Lancelot can carry it behind his saddle if you want.”
“Okay, let’s do that.” Chuck brought it from the truck. It was fairly heavy, but the horse didn’t flinch when he set it gently behind the cantle of the saddle.
“You use a English saddle,” he said in surprise. “I’m sure I saw a western saddle in your barn last week.
Ruby shrugged. “This is lighter. When we’re going on a long ride, I like to keep the weight down, for Lancelot’s sake.” She quickly strapped the pack on securely. “I take my lunch with me in this cooler sometimes. It’s great not to have to hurry back, and to have a cold drink and something to eat when you get ten miles from home and realize you’re starving.” She walked forward to unhitch Lancelot and reached down to grab her baseball cap from the trailer’s fender. After settling it over her rich brown hair, she gathered the reins and lifted her left foot to the stirrup. In an instant, she was sitting astride, smiling down at him. “All set?”
Chuck was still looking at her scuffed white running shoe and calculating how much lighter his gear would be if he switched to an English saddle and left his boots home. But the week before his first 100-miler wasn’t the time to change equipment.
“Yeah, sure.” He unclipped Rascal from the trailer and mounted. The trail they chose rose gradually at first, and they trotted along together then slowed as the incline increased. The sprinkling of trees on the rolling hills became denser as they progressed along the trail. The foliage was turning color on the hardwoods. Chuck inhaled deeply. He loved this time of year.
Ruby reached out and plucked a golden leaf from an aspen as she passed, rolled the stem back and forth between her fingers a few times, then let the leaf flutter to the earth. When the track narrowed, Chuck let her lead the way. Her palomino had a nice rhythm, and Ruby sat easily in the saddle, obviously comfortable.
A steep grade slowed their pace, and after a while, Ruby hopped down.
“I’m going walk up this one,” she called back to Chuck, trudging backward beside her gelding.
He climbed down, too, and Rascal lowered his head with a snuffle, plodding up the slope behind Lancelot.
They came out on a rounded knob above the tree line. Ruby led Lancelot to a fairly flat spot and stood looking out over the plain below. Chuck eased Rascal over beside them.
“Terrific view.”
She turned toward him. “Isn’t it great? I’ve never been up here before. You can see clear out across the plains.”
“You ride very well.”
“Thanks.” She looked down and fiddled with the reins she held.
“How long have you had Lancelot?”
“About five years. I bought him while I was still in college. I stayed home and commuted.”
He nodded, thinking it must have been nice to be able to afford college and a good horse.
Her rueful chuckle squelched the thought. “It’s probably why I can’t afford my own apartment.”
“Horsemanship is an expensive sport.” He let Rascal put his head down and crop the drying grass.
“Well, it’s been a sort of compensation for me.”
“Oh?”
She looked up at him, and that sober, faraway look returned to her eyes. “My sister and I went to Cornell University together our first year. Pre-med. But. . .after Julie died, my parents wanted me to stay close.”
He nodded, trying to put the pieces together.
“Anyway, Dad said it would mean a lot to them, especially to Mom, to have me close by. But they figured I’d be giving up a lot. They offered to help me buy a good horse.” She sucked her upper lip into her mouth for a moment. “But living here and going to the community college was a lot cheaper than the university, so I guess we’ve all saved money in the long run. Probably for the best.” Her frown belied her words.
“It’s been rough for your family.”
“Yeah.” She puffed out a breath and smiled. “But God knows what He’s doing. I believe that.”
Her gaze met his, and Chuck nodded. “I do, too. Are things getting better now?”
“Some. The pain never goes away, you know?”
“Yeah, I do.”
After a moment she looked over the knoll. “Do you want to keep going? This trail seems to go down a ways, but I think it goes up that ridge over there.” She pointed to the next hill.
“Sure, if you’re game.”
“Let’s go.” She positioned her reins and put her foot in the stirrup to mount.
Chuck pulled Rascal’s head up and swung into the saddle. He liked Ruby. So far, she’d lived up to his expectations. Frank, no-nonsense, direct. Cute. Great horsewoman. Very cute. Her golden brown braid bounced against the back of her denim jacket. In spite of her delicate frame, she had a toughness. She would fall into the featherweight class for certain at the ride, while Chuck figured he’d hit middleweight with all his gear at the weigh-in. But despite her small stature, Ruby would never be one to shirk her own stable chores. Chuck liked that. He liked the fact that she trusted God with her future, too, no matter how bleak things must have seemed for a while.
The horses wended downward then entered a cool stretch of conifer forest. A magpie flew from a low-hanging spruce branch, across the trail, and Lancelot shied, but settled down under Ruby’s firm hand. When they emerged from the woods fifteen minutes later, the path widened. Chuck trotted his Appaloosa up beside Ruby and Lancelot. She looked over at him.
Without giving much thought to his words, Chuck said, “Yeah, this is a lot better than riding alone.”
His momentary fear that he’d been too forward was erased in the glow of Ruby’s smile.

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