Page 29 of Wild and Unruly
If I were a new client walking in here, not knowing the truth about this facility and the team that ran it, I would be mesmerized by this display.
I blink and turn to walk away, but then something catches my eye.
Right there in the middle is a picture of me on my horse, smiling wide. We’re in the circle, with my brother and parents beside me and Richard Smith on the other side. Tommy was even in the picture, but back then, he was showing like the rest of us, not yet training.
“Good times, huh?” His voice hits me, and I cringe, quicklyplacing my reporter smile on before turning in Tommy’s direction.
“Oh, yeah.” I nod toward the trophy case. “This is quite the display.”
“We’ve come a long way.” He smirks, and I take him in. I don’t quite remember him being good-looking. He was a gangly teenager when I met him, and my brother was always there to intervene. But now, he stood tall and broad-shouldered, his crisp white cowboy hat setting a contrast against tan skin.
“Well, I can definitely see that.” I hitch my bag higher on my shoulder, and he reaches out a hand for me to shake.
“I can’t believe it’s been so long since you were here. It’s been what, seven or eight years?” he asks, holding my hand for a second too long before letting go.
I tell myself to chill out, that I don’t need to make a big deal out of that second, and nod my head. “Something like that.”
“Well, come on, Ms. Reporter, I’ll show you around.” He gives me a charming smile and I tip my head, smiling at his joke.
I know he’s a snake, so it’s crazy to see the façade he puts on to charm people. It was good. Really good.
As we walk, he introduces me to the staff, and they give polite nods before walking away. It’s weird. The staff at Three Rivers all stopped and talked with me, bright, happy, relaxed smiles on all of their faces. Tommy’s staff seems…stiff. Uncomfortable.
And I don’t think it’s my presence doing it.
“We’ve got over one hundred horses in training as of yesterday, actually.”
“One hundred?” I lift my brow and try to conceal my disbelief. “So, you must have a fleet of trainers who work for you.”
“Only two other trainers work at this facility aside from myself,” he states as if it were a point of pride. I would have called it a point of stupidity.
“So, three trainers, one hundred horses…you ride roughly thirty-three horses a day?” The math was absolutely not adding up.
But he grins and nods. “Just about. Some horses I give breaks to. All our horses are ridden five days a week, and some are ridden by the clients on off days.”
“Still, that’s a lot of work,” I comment, holding up my phone a little higher, the recorder set already. He smiles at the sight of it. “How do you manage to run the barn and train?”
“Well, time management is something I’m good at, and keeping on top of the staff so I don’t have to worry about anything else is very important to me. They know what happens if they don’t get their work done.”
Thankfully, we’re still walking down the alleyway, so I can nonchalantly turn my head to a stall where a horse is hanging its head out. “What happens?”
I turn to him, and he shrugs, and for the first time, that charming smile slips into something…less charming. “They get let go. I don’t have time for people who can’t follow rules. This is a serious business. I need serious staff.”
I try and picture CT saying something like that about Three Rivers and can’t even fathom it. Yes, they run a successful business, but maybe part of that success was because they were a family, both blood and not. The hired hands they kept were always around, joking and laughing like they were family.
I make a mental note to add that to the article.
The horse with its head hanging out the window catches myattention, and I move over to him. “Do you mind?” I gesture, petting the horse, and his smile slips.
“Uh, no. It’s fine.”
I place my hand on the horse’s forelock and smooth it down, moving it aside to scratch its forehead. The horse barely moves, doesn’t lift its head to smell my hand, just hangs there like it would have after the vet has come to check their teeth or to do some other medical work.
I feel my heart rate tick up and turn to Tommy. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine.” Tommy places a smile on his face. “Just got done working, is all. He’s tired. Can I show you the outdoor arena?”
He places a hand on my back to usher me forward, and in that split second, I have to make the hard call to leave this horse here, to let Tommy lead me out, even with that horse’s image stuck in my mind.
