Glynda's Dare

By Shanon Grey

Everything taken from her, Glynda heads north, to a new world and a new life, taking a chance that fate might be kinder to her this time around. As she settles in to her job on one of the many farms just outside of a small southern town called Ruthorford, she discovers that southern charm does extend as far north as Georgia, as do good-looking men.

Befriended by Tom, a farm hand she met when he rescued her from the hooves of an angry stallion, Glynda begins to believe that her shattered heart might have a chance to heal after all and her life become what she’d always longed for – normal.

But, her past is coming back to haunt her and, from the looks of things, it just might get her killed. Luckily, she finds that she’s landed in the one place that takes care of its own and she has become one of them, whether she wants to be or not. Rutherford and its descendant have taken her into their fold, and life promises to be anything but normal.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shanon Grey
• Release date: Feb 22, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311024985

Shanon Grey

Shanon Grey weaves suspense and action with mystery and romance. Under contract with Crossroads Publishing House and TOVA Publishing House, her books are available in e-format and print at most booksellers.Shanon spent most of her life on coasts, both the beautiful Atlantic and the balmy Gulf. A major hurricane taught her the fragility of life and the strength of friendship, family, and starting over. She found out that her son had salvaged notes and pages of her original novel, Capricorn’s Child, which she thought had been destroyed along with everything else. (Ironically, a neighbor found her marriage certificate in a tree.) She plans to resurrect her original novel one day.She now lives in Georgia, trading the familiarity of the coast for the lush beauty and wonder of the mountains, where her husband fulfilled her lifelong dream—to live in a beautiful cottage in the woods, where inspiration abounds.Having dual careers, one as an author and the other in IT Security, affords her, in her dual personas, to meld expertise from many disciplines and venues into stories that keep her readers coming back for more.Jerry Hampton, the companion attendant to the alter ego, Shanon Grey, provides the discipline and order to the creativity. She also provides the artistry that does into covers and accompanying materials for web sites, events, and book signings.Stay up to date on other Shanon Grey books and events by visiting her website at: www.ShanonGrey.comYou can also visit Shanon Grey on Facebook or Twitter @ShanonGrey.You can write her at [e-mail] would love to hear from you.

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Glynda’s Dare

by Shanon Grey

Copyright © 2014, Shanon Grey

Published by Shanon Grey at Smashwords

Cover Art Design by Book Graphics

TOVA Publishing House

P.O. Box 155

Sharpsburg, GA 30277

Warning: E-books are not transferrable. All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work, in whole or part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, is illegal and forbidden, without the written permission of the author, except for brief quotations embedded in critical articles and reviews about this work. This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com, or your favorite retailer, and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Characters, settings, names, and occurrences are a product of the author's imagination and bear no resemblance to any actual person, living or dead, places, or settings, and/or occurrences. Any incidences of resemblance are purely coincidental.

Also by Shanon Grey



The Shoppe of Spells

Book One: The GATEKEEPERS Series

Meadow’s Keep

Book Two: The GATEKEEPERS Series

Pennyroyal Christmas

A Ruthorford Holiday Story

Twisted Fate

Currents of Destiny

Table of Contents

Acknowledgments

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Also from Shanon Grey

About the Author

A Note from Shanon Grey

The Shoppe of Spells

Meadow’s Keep

Pennyroyal Christmas

Twisted Fate

Currents of Destiny

Acknowledgements

I want to thank all the people that encourage me to keep telling my stories; you always give me that needed push.

To my husband, for letting the story carry you away and admitting to a tear or two in the process.

To Linda, for reading this under a deadline and still liking it.

To Tony, my inspiration for the modern-day cowboy—a man of integrity, sensitivity, and strength.

To my family: I wouldn’t be here without you.

You inspire me every day.

You believe in me.

Thank you.

Dedication

This story is dedicated to all those who ever have or ever will suffer from a disaster of any sort. For the sun will come out and shine upon you once more, although it might not seem so for a long time. Take strength from those that have gone before you and share your dream with those who follow.

Chapter One

Glynda stood at the window, absorbing the view. Not fifty feet away, a pristine, white board fence separated her from the dams and their foals. The cool air teased the short manes of the foals and they shied and nipped at their mothers’ legs, wanting to play. An occasional bite from the dams quickly brought the foals back in line, at least for the moment. Glynda had never seen anything so wonderful. She let out a sigh.

Go on, Bernice interrupted her musings, I’ve got this for a while. You’ve busted your behind this last week. The rather stout woman shuffled through the sheaf of paperwork Glynda had just handed her. Go take a break.

Glynda turned sharply. Do you think it’d be all right if I went down to the stables?

The older woman laughed. Sure. Just stay out of the way. She brushed back a stray lock of steel gray hair with her hand. You could hand me a soda on your way out, if you please? Bernice commented, her attention turning to the papers.

Glynda stepped into the tiny kitchen off the office and grabbed two drinks from the fridge. I’ll be back in a little bit. She set one drink down on Bernice’s desk. With her nose already buried in the reports, Bernice lifted her hand, absently waving Glynda away.

She stepped out into the cool afternoon sun, raised her hand over her brows, and walked toward the pasture. As she approached, the mares meandered farther away from the fence, taking their little ones scampering along with them. She walked over, propped her foot on the bottom rail, rested her arms on the top, and took a deep swig from the soda can. This was the life. Who’d have thought a month ago that she would be standing here, in the mountains of Georgia, on a thoroughbred farm, watching horses and sipping soda?

She turned around and leaned back against the fence to take in the rest of the view. The offices where she worked sat out at an angle from the main house, a large, white-columned southern mansion, graced with just the right amount of landscaping and verandas—rockers and all. The gravel drive wound right up in front of the mansion and then veered over to a parking area in front of the offices. On the other side of the house, the drive curved away toward the barns and stables. She pushed away from the fence and started toward the stables, her shoes crunching across the white-gray gravel.

She checked her watch. Ten after three. She didn’t want to take advantage of Bernice’s good nature. She’d take a quick look, then run upstairs to her little apartment over the offices and freshen up.

As she walked into the main aisle of the massive building, the shift from the glaring sunlight to the dim interior blinded her. She stopped, heard a nickering sound, then a screech, and hooves stomping. Arms clamped around her from behind and swung her away, carrying her toward the door, soda spewing from the can in her hand.

Don’t you know not to get behind the south end of a northbound horse? A deep voice gasped in her ear. Especially that horse.

She was still in the air—in his arms. She wiggled. He set her down and she turned, apology on her lips. Except, when she looked into his ice blue eyes, no words came out. Her eyes had adjusted and she could see around him now and found herself looking at the largest horse she’d ever seen. A young man had hold of the halter, hanging on for all his worth, while the stallion tossed his head and stamped the ground.

Tom, the boy yelled, I’ve got him. About that time, the stallion lifted his head and the kid went flying. The horse took off, luckily not in her direction.

Shit, the guy with the icy eyes—she assumed was Tom—cursed and took off running after the horse. The kid scrambled up and ran after him.

Glynda backed out of the stables.

****

You’re back early, Bernice commented and looked at her watch.

Glynda was still breathing hard. Oh, Bernice, I think I made a horse run off.

Bernice popped up out of her chair and grabbed a phone. What pasture? She hit a button.

No. She held up a hand. He ran out of the other end of the stable. Some kid and a guy named Tom ran after him. She put her hand to her heart, trying to calm the pounding in her chest, and felt the wet stickiness of the soda on her blouse.

Bernice hung up the phone and dropped down in her chair. Thank God, child. You scared the hell out of me. She looked up at Glynda. Lord, you are white as a sheet. You okay?

Yes…no…I don’t know. I feel awful. I must have scared him. She felt tears start to well. I’m here a week and…and…, her voiced hitched.

Bernice rose and came around the desk. Don’t worry about it. Everything’s gonna be fine. She put her arm around the beautiful young woman who was obviously distraught. Why don’t you go on upstairs and clean up? I’ve worked you way too hard this week, and it being your first. She led her to the back hallway. Go on. Get something to eat. Watch TV. Rest. Tomorrow we’ll start back in on this mess.

Are you sure? I’ll be fine, Glynda lied. She was miserable.

Bernice gently pushed her toward the closed door that led to her apartment. Go. I don’t want to see you again until tomorrow.

Glynda stepped into the hallway, pulled the door shut behind her and walked up the stairs. Oh, God. What if she lost this job? She had no money and no place to go. She sure as hell couldn’t go back home. There was nothing for her there.

She let herself into the apartment they’d given her as part of her compensation and walked over to the window, looking out toward the stables. All seemed quiet. She leaned her head against the cool glass. The weeks fell away and she was back in Biloxi, Mississippi, alone and broken hearted.

It’d been a year since her fiancé had been killed in Afghanistan. She’d been working at a local insurance company as an administrative assistant, which translated into—she did all the work and the boss did all the yelling. Her bills were behind and the house she’d been living in wasn’t hers anymore. Nathan’s family got it. The judge had been very sorry but they weren’t married when he died and the law said….

A phone call from her cousin in western North Carolina about a job opportunity on a horse farm in Georgia gave her a glimmer of hope for the first time since Nathan’s death. She emailed her résumé and was interviewed on the phone that same afternoon. Suddenly, she was packing what little she had into the old truck Nathan’s family had let her keep and she was heading up the interstate to some place she’d never been before to start her life over again.

It was everything she’d hoped for and more. Bernice was kindness personified. She’d never met Mr. Matheson, owner of Matheson Farms, but Bernice assured her he was a doll to work for. This was their breeding farm, one of many. Then there were the training farms—or something like that. Bernice told her Mr. Matheson actually had an entry in the Kentucky Derby next year, a filly named Cylon’s Main. What Glynda knew about the Kentucky Derby, or horses for that matter, she could fit into a thimble—as was evidenced by today’s fiasco. That thought brought her back to the present and to the voices she heard drifting up from below.

Glynda tiptoed over to her door and cracked it a fraction.

She’s never been around horses, Bernice was saying.

Well, it’s a good thing I was there when Molten Lava decided…. She couldn’t make out the rest because they had moved further into the office and Bernice had closed the door.

Damn. She shut her door, stepped back into what served as her living room/dining room/kitchen, and caught her reflection in the mirror. Oh good Lord, no wonder the horse had spooked. Her chestnut hair had pretty much come out of the clip she used to restrain it. Curls spilled in every which direction. Her amber eyes looked puffy. The blouse she had tucked into her jeans this morning was hanging out on one side and had a dark soda stain down the front. All in all, she was a mess.

She pulled opened the door of the small refrigerator, already knowing what she’d find. There wasn’t anything worth eating inside. Upon arriving at the farm, she’d found her refrigerator stocked with some essentials and a map to the local grocery—which she had yet to find. She’d just been too busy. When she’d arrived, Bernice had been too swamped with new farm acquisitions, horses, and everything else the woman took care of, to do more than show Glynda the basics needed to finish the work that had been piling up. However, Glynda was a quick study and she was soon up to her elbows in the administrative end of a working farm. Most meals were eaten down in the office since they worked from sunrise until late. The main house sent over meals, relieving her from having to replenish her own supplies. She picked up the map and took a look. How hard could it be?

After grabbing a quick shower and putting her blouse in the sink to soak, she pulled on a black tee, a gift from Nathan on her twenty-fourth birthday last year, its silver scroll exclaiming Dare Me! He swore when they married he was going to get her one that said Diggs Me! She ran her hand over the letters, missing that twinkle in his eyes whenever he’d teased her and felt that familiar ache in her heart when she thought about him. She was still Glynda Dare, not Diggs. Before she’d let the sads, as her granny called them, overtake her, she grabbed her purse off the couch and left.

The office was quiet when she walked past, a low light burning on Bernice’s desk. She thought about stopping in and decided she really didn’t want to face anyone tonight. As she climbed into the old Ford parked behind the office, she wondered what Mr. Matheson would say when he saw her old clunker amidst his shiny black Silverados.

She pulled onto the highway and headed south, toward town, she hoped. They weren’t that far from Atlanta but far enough out to be in the country. She turned down another highway and went several miles before she realized she was lost—in the dark. One thing about country dark was it was pitch black, with all the overhanging trees shrouding out any light from the sky. She slowed to a crawl, trying to decide whether to turn around or keep going. Oh, what the hell, she muttered into the night. She stepped on the accelerator. Another mile and lights lit up the side of the road. A sign shouted ALMA’S in a big yellow glow. The parking lot was full. Mostly trucks like hers. She pulled in and parked as close as she could get to the door.

The door opened and a man and woman stepped out. Country music flowed from the interior, not too loud. She stepped inside. On the right were tables and a bar. On the far left, billiard tables, five in all, stretched way back, each showing its green felt top under a low hanging light. In the center, an old-timey jukebox sat in front of a stage, which was dark now. In front of the jukebox, several couples two-stepped on the parquet dance floor.

The aroma of hamburgers and fries wafted from the kitchen and she moved to one of the tables and sat down. A young waitress, dressed pretty much the way she was, came to take her order. She ordered a cheeseburger with mayo, beer battered onion rings, and a large coke. The waitress suggested she might want to have her set aside a slice of Alma’s chocolate pecan cake before it was all gone. Glynda smiled and nodded her okay.

She listened to Faith Hill and Merle Haggard until her food came, watching the dancers move about the floor, a knot forming in her throat as she remembered Nathan’s strong arms around her. The waitress arrived just in time to keep her from sinking back into that hole of longing for what could never be, setting her plate and a basket of onion rings in front of her.

She piled the tomato on the burger, added the extra mayonnaise, covered it, and pushed down the top bun, watching the juice drip onto the plate. Her stomach gave a growl as she hefted the burger from the plate to her mouth and she realized just how hungry she was. She took a big bite and juice ran down her fingers. She leaned forward and took another bite before setting it down. She was licking the drippings from her fingers when a deep voice intoned, Need help with that?

Glynda looked up. The man from the stable, Tom—she believed was his name—was standing beside the table.

She blushed, swallowed, and managed a smile. No, I think I’ve got it. She grabbed the napkin and wiped her hands.

Mind if I join you? His hand was already pulling out the chair, the legs scraping across the wood floor. Without waiting for a comment, he sat down and took an onion ring from the basket. These are the best I’ve ever had.

Please, have one, she commented. Want a bite of my burger? The words were out of her mouth before she could think, so she clamped her lips shut.

Ignoring her sarcasm and not missing a beat, he shook his head and waved at the waitress. That’s okay, I can get my own. When the girl stopped at the table, he said, I’ll have the same. Except, a beer. Thanks.

Self-conscious, Glynda put her hands in her lap. He took another bite of onion ring and studied her. Oh, come on. I don’t want to ruin your dinner. Want me to go?

She looked at him. His dark hair was thick and wavy and a little disheveled. Fine lines crinkled at the corners of his blue eyes as he smiled at her with a well-shaped mouth. A slight cleft dimpled his chin.

Pass inspection?

I’m sorry. I…, she stammered. Taking a deep breath, she plunged on, I want to apologize about this afternoon. Not a topic she relished addressing, but figured she’d better. I was taking a break. Bernice told me…the sun blinded me…I hope you got that horse all right…God, he was big…. She stopped as her words ran over themselves.

The waitress set his plate, the basket of onion rings, and beer down and asked if he wanted the cake. When he patted his stomach and declined, Glynda, feeling like a glutton, secretly prayed the girl would forget the piece she’d ordered.

Thanks, he told the waitress and lifted his cheeseburger. Don’t worry about it, said to Glynda, referring to the event in the barn, before he took a large bite, closed his