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that no dispensation was ever granted on the basis of what
time one has gone to bed the night before. Jake's alarm went
off what seemed like twenty minutes after they had gone to
bed, and both of them, lifelong ranch workers, got up without
hitting snooze. They got to grumble, that was okay, and so
was bumping into each other in the kitchen when they made
coffee and toast and searched around for a frying pan. Mark
kissed the back of Jake's neck, because he could, and when
Jake reached around him to grab milk from the fridge, he
cupped Mark's ass on the way by.
By the time they finished, the first of the volunteers had
arrived for the morning hours, and Mark took care of the
private barn while Jake oversaw the controlled chaos of five
overeager teenagers. Oddly enough, Mark had finished first,
so he went into the office. The filing cabinet was unlocked,
the account receiving book out in the open, and it didn't take
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long to see how much in the hole the rescue center really
was.
Jake brought him a coffee halfway through, and leaned
against the doorway. "I can't charge an adoption fee that
even comes close to how much it costs the vet and the
amount of food the horses consume. The fundraisers help,
but it's constantly begging with my hand out and I have to
keep five or six thousand dollars in ready cash to keep some
of the finest horses I've ever seen being turned into dog
meat. We do what we can, but it's month-to-month, and I
just can't see a way out of it."
Mark nodded. "I see that." He looked up. "You can go back
to the show. Hank's still young enough, and the purses are
getting bigger and bigger. One good season and you can
bankroll this place."
"It's something to look into. But this isn't the kind of place
you can bugger off and leave three or four days of the week.
It's a twenty-four/seven, three hundred sixty-five days of the
year kind of gig."
Mark stood up. "You're not alone anymore."
"I know." Jake took another sip of coffee. "Just don't think
I'm not going to work you to the bone."
Mark looked at the shabby numbers in the books, and then
out to the small window to the barns and the fields beyond. It
would be work, ridiculous amounts, but he was okay with
that. "Deal."
"You drive a hard bargain."
Mark was going to take the coffee cup from Jake's hand,
and take his first payment, formulating in his head some
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Forgotten Favor
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crack involving the words pound and flesh for what was owed,
when he heard a truck pull up. Jake had already turned, and
frowned to see Rendell's black truck stop in the middle of the
yard. Mark got a bad feeling, and out of the clear blue
morning he heard the distant thunder of hooves. He was
already picking up the phone when Jake told him to call 911.
He nodded, and punched in the numbers.
The kids were all in the field. He could hear them whooping
and hollering from a long way away, so Mark wasn't afraid for
them. Jake walking up all alone to the huge black beast made
every inch of his spine crawl. The woman on the other end of
the phone asked him what the nature of his emergency was,
and Mark almost told her that the black riders were coming.
Instead he shook his head. "There isn't one, not yet but I
think there's going to be."
The almost bored tone in the woman's voice ended. "Could
you be more specific?"
Mark watched from the doorway. Rendell was wearing a
thick leather jacket despite the warm morning, and he and
Jake were still exchanging stony-faced pleasantries. "I think
the man who tried to burn down our barn " Our barn, Mark
thought. Already it's our barn. " is on the property. And I
think he's going to try something."
"My name is Sherry, whom I speaking with?"
"Mark." He gave the address, and didn't try to explain how
he belonged here.
"Has he said or done anything threatening?" She asked. He
could hear her typing in the background. He only hoped she
was sending somebody.
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Forgotten Favor
by Angela Fiddler
Mark glanced out again. Rendell was trying to force a stack
of papers into Jake's hands, who was refusing to take it.
"Yes," Mark said. It was only a small white lie.
"I'm sending somebody right now, Mark," Sherry said. "I
want you to stay on the line with me."
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