The Flying Horse Caper

By Ann O. Chehak

An uneasy sense of impending calamity falls.

An underhanded war crushes.

As troubles beset the Flying Horse Ranch, lady veterinarian, Kat Lamar, teams up with newly hired ranch foreman, Cade Crocker, thwarting attempts aimed at forcing a land sale and stealing a runaway stallion.

Cade, in dusty boots and cowboy hat, arrives under a cloud of suspicion, haunted by a past failure as he defends the Flying Horse under the mistrustful but tempting green eyes of the lady vet.

Someone with inside knowledge is putting the Flying Horse Ranch out of business and setting off a series of sabotage mishaps. A stable fire puts Cade on the trail of the arsonist and horse thief. He finds little evidence, no answers, and plenty of suspects but no proof.

Bad luck, sleuthing, and misfortunes abound for Kat, and riding into trouble, she comes across the terrifying reality of a wicked, inveigling hand grasping for what is rightfully hers. Her adversary is waiting and explodes in anger when crossed, terrifying Kat with his horrifying, crazy laughter.

Cade, by her side, goes after the man who once outwitted him. Can he find his faith and reclaim the courage to fight a battle he once lost?

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Nov 15, 2018
• ISBN: 9781973644552

Ann O. Chehak

Ann Chehak’s love of nature and penchant for wandering the trails and streams of California offer inviting and scenic backdrops for her stories. Ann launched her writing career drafting information technology manuals and project management plans and now writes adventurous mystery novels where the hero and heroine join forces to solve crime and find love in the end. She invites you to enjoy her mysteries, The Flying Horse Caper and The Seaside Painting Caper, written with a touch of inspiration and a hint of love. Visit Ann’s blog at http://www.annchehak.com/ where you can discover more about her writing.

Book preview

THE

FLYING HORSE

CAPER

ANN O. CHEHAK

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Copyright © 2018 Ann O. Chehak.

Interior Graphics/Art Credit: Kelly Ross

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Scripture taken from the New King James Version®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

WestBow Press

A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.westbowpress.com

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-9736-4456-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-9736-4457-6 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-9736-4455-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018913338

WestBow Press rev. date: 11/15/2018

Contents

Chapter 1 The Flying Horse Ranch

Chapter 2 A Curious Accident

Chapter 3 An Unusual Dart

Chapter 4 An Odd Theft

Chapter 5 A Thin Motive

Chapter 6 Deceitful Evil

Chapter 7 Kat’s Thunder

Chapter 8 Sabotaged

Chapter 9 Suspicions

Chapter 10 Confronting Ned

Chapter 11 Cade’s Failing

Chapter 12 Hunches

Chapter 13 1⁹th Hole Vaketch

Chapter 14 Ned Lies

Chapter 15 Searching for Flame

Chapter 16 Lost Horse Stable

Chapter 17 Horse-N-Trails

Chapter 18 Beezer’s Duplicity

Chapter 19 Thunder Escapes

Chapter 20 Trail Riders

Chapter 21 Shots Fired

Chapter 22 Cade’s List of Suspects

Chapter 23 The Tumblecreek Bar and Grill

Chapter 24 Beezer’s Deception

Chapter 25 Trouble Abounds

Chapter 26 Fire Threatens

Chapter 27 Tied Up in Knots

Chapter 28 Cade’s Discovery

Chapter 29 Kat’s Courage

Chapter 30 The Chase over the Cliff

Chapter 31 Knotting Loose Ends

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Camp Richardson Corral and Pack Station

Special thanks to Ms. Kelly Ross and family at the Camp Richardson Corral in South Lake Tahoe, California. My inspiration for the setting in The Flying Horse Caper comes from this majestic location in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. From the riding trails along the wooded paths to the breath-taking scenery of the blue lake, this magical place has captured my heart and fired my imagination in the creation of this book.

Acknowledgment

Special thanks to my first editor and dedicated guide into the world of writing, Christine Chehak, whose direction has significantly impacted the artistry of my writing.

Why do You stand afar off, O LORD?

Why do You hide in times of trouble?

The wicked in his pride persecutes the poor;

Let them be caught in the plots which they have devised.

—Psalm 10 (NKJV)

Chapter 1

THE FLYING HORSE RANCH

D R. KAT LAMAR ADJUSTED the lenses of the binoculars. The wild black stallion hid among the pine trees and granite outcroppings, shaded from the morning sun, and he revealed his wily nature in finding a band of mares. Of all the places that troublesome horse could go, he chose the Flying Horse Ranch. The black stallion carried the lines of a hot-blooded thoroughbred, but Kat’s experience with free-roaming horses dampened her excitement to curiosity.

She leaned forward at the sound of a whinny. The horse stepped into the clearing and then reared up on his haunches while pawing the air. He ran down the slope toward the corral, his impetuous actions revealing unruly traits. That horse looked ready to cause havoc with Kat’s tame, trail-riding horses. His flowing mane and tail dashed this way and that with his movements. That horse would be an exceptional addition to her stables!

The horse had a broad forehead, wide-set eyes, a narrow muzzle, a long neck, and a lean and muscular body with straight, long legs. She would be proud to own a horse like that who had been bred for running and was rare among her quarter horses and occasional wild mustangs.

Kat lowered her binoculars, hurried down the inlaid stone steps of Tuckahoe Lodge, and stopped beside her tethered horse, Scout. She noticed the mares becoming restless in the stallion’s presence, and Kat halted as the scene unfolded. The mares trotted to and fro along the fence as the stallion let loose, jumped the railing, and then landed in the corral. He turned one way and another, causing turmoil in the crowded space.

The herd dispersed inside the corral as the dark horse circled the white fence railing. It wasn’t a high fence—maybe four feet tall—but it was enough to keep her horses corralled. The mares followed suit like thoroughbreds sprinting for the finish line. Their hooves kicked up dust that clouded the morning sky. The ground rumbled, and the corral became a whirl of color as the horses pounded in unison around and around.

Adrenaline kicked in, and Kat spoke into her two-way radio. Paxton, that stallion’s in the corral again.

It was a horse like no other with a full winter coat of black. Few horses carried a true black color, and it added a mysterious element to its appeal. The magnificent stallion’s appearance on the ranch would be something to see for tomorrow’s horseback-riding guests.

Her grandfather answered. I hear you, Kat. I’m on my horse and headed your way.

Her grandfather Paxton Lamar had been a champion rodeo bull rider in Nevada during his younger days and retired to the Flying Horse Ranch in California. Even in his sixties, he could ride and rope like a young man. He stood tall and thin with graying hair and pale green eyes. His skin was like toughened leather, and his voice was deep and endearing. He favored boots, jeans, a plaid shirt, and a cowboy hat.

Kat untied the reins, mounted Scout, and joined Paxton in a run to the corral fence, each from a different direction. She tugged at her bandanna, releasing a mane of long, brown hair, and then waved the cloth with a yell. Yah-yah-yah!

The wild stallion bucked and kicked the fence with his hind legs.

The older man waved his hat and made a ruckus of his own. Yip-yip-yah! He urged his horse to go faster with a skill polished from years in the saddle.

The stallion circled the corral and then cleared the fence before racing up the embankment. The renegade galloped up the canyon to the ridge above the trail.

Kat gasped when Flame, her even-tempered and steady mare, jumped the corral fence and followed the stallion. Her beautiful coat of golden brown and contrasting light chestnut mane, legs, and tail had captured Kat’s heart at first glance. Flame’s place in her life came at a time when Kat should have blossomed as a teenager—fifteen years ago—but her heart had plummeted with the loss of her pony Candy in a tragic fall. Her father’s gift of Flame helped heal and fill Kat’s deep void.

She and Paxton slowed their mounts. Their skillful riding had gotten rid of the black horse—for now.

Kat’s grandfather slapped his hat on his jeans. I didn’t know Flame could jump.

She’s a match for that black horse. Look at her go! Kat pushed up her shirt sleeves in agitation as Flame ran to keep pace with the stallion.

She should be glad only one horse followed the renegade, but why did it have to be her favorite? She didn’t need any worries in her life. At twenty-eight years old, Kat felt on top of the world. She was a fully qualified equine veterinarian with her own clinic on her loving family’s horse ranch and a partner in the town’s vet hospital, and in her spare time, she led pack trips and gave riding lessons.

Keeping a sharp eye on the ridge, she spied a rising dust cloud.

From the west atop the ridge, a cowboy rode a horse she recognized as Peaches. Kat shook her head and turned her attention to the fretful herd. The well-being of the corralled horses had to be her priority. They were the heart and soul of the ranch.

She rode alongside Paxton. Your new trail boss is headed up the mountain. He’s riding like an inexperienced tenderfoot.

Paxton let out a crack of laughter. Likely he’ll run into your stallion and Flame.

They pulled up beside the corral, spoke in soothing tones, and called each horse by name.

Misty, that’s a good girl.

Taffy, slow down there, gal.

The half dozen mares slowed to a walk. Kat turned her horse toward the mountain trail and stopped. A horse and rider appeared at the top of the ridge, where it rose steeply about a hundred yards away.

The trail boss riding Peaches closed the distance between the horses as the stallion topped the dip in the trail. His shadowed outline paused, and Kat held her breath for the moment. The tenderfoot would have trouble if he met up with the dark horse’s thunderous hooves. As the stallion reared back, Peaches stepped away from the dangerous beast with a quick twist, bucked, went up on his hind legs, and unseated the rider.

What were you thinking when you hired that tenderfoot, Paxton?

He chuckled. Your daddy hired him out of Wyoming. He runs a first-rate outfit, the Trail Resort Advisors, and comes highly recommended.

Whoever heard of a Wyoming cowboy who couldn’t ride? Not waiting for an answer, she let her impetuousness take over and urged her mount up the ravine. Two of her horses were loose up there in addition to a rabble-rousing renegade. The newcomer posed a problem if he thwarted ranch operations, and losing Peaches in addition to Flame would be a setback she couldn’t afford.

Kat slowed her horse as she approached the melee and was unable to stifle a laugh. Peaches, who lacked a rider, flung her head up and down to show her bossiness, which didn’t bode well for the unseated rider. How could the cowboy manage a ranch with an unbridled stallion if he couldn’t handle a gentle horse like Peaches?

Above the trail at the top of the ridge, the dark horse tossed his mane, flicked his tail, and then disappeared through the forest. Flame followed with Peaches close behind and then disappeared behind the granite boulders. In their place stood the newcomer, who dusted off his jeans, mopped his face with a blue plaid bandanna, and jammed his hat on his head. If she hadn’t been so mad about those horses running off, she would still be laughing.

Pulling her horse up short, she scowled at the man and bit her lip to hold her acerbic words in check. Not one but two horses were gone. One she blamed on the stallion; the other she blamed on the man before her.

He adjusted his hat to shade his eyes. Hi. I’m Cade Crocker, the new foreman at the ranch. You must be Kat.

She shifted in the saddle and tilted her head. I’m Kat Lamar. You ride double? We have some horses to catch—Flame and Peaches. I hope they didn’t go too far because both are needed for tomorrow’s trail ride.

Kat examined Cade. He stood tall with a well-built frame. His hat covered his short, sandy hair but not his day-old beard. She guessed he would be in his early thirties. His scuffed boots and worn jeans weren’t new, and the torn shirt from his fall revealed taut arm muscles.

After some consideration, she reassessed her first impression of him. After all, he didn’t break his neck in the fall, even if he couldn’t stay on a horse.

Cade strode to her side. Kat pulled her boots from the stirrups so they could ride double on Scout. The new foreman swung himself up behind her.

He signaled his readiness. Let’s go. I figured those horses got loose somehow, so I went after them. Does that black horse belong to the ranch?

No. Maybe you can bring in the troublemaker in addition to the missing horses.

She caught the surprise in his widened eyes when she glanced at him over her shoulder and blinked her unusual, almost transparent green orbs.

Green Eyes, I’m up to the challenge.

Huh! We’ll see. She pulled her bandanna from her pocket where she had stuffed it and tied back her hair. Lightly flicking the reins, she verbalized a soft click for the horse.

Scout strained his lead ropes, eager to go. They followed the well-worn path used for weekly pack trips. The trail dipped down into a canyon where conifers lined the edges, boulders crowded the slopes, and the woody scent of pine trees filled the air.

With his boots in the stirrups and his hands on the saddle, contact became inevitable. Kat leaned over the saddle to distance herself from her passenger. Even with her small backpack between them, the motion of the horse brought Cade too close. His solid chest and wide shoulders surrounded her.

Cade shifted on the back of the horse. You know, that fall was a fluke. The big stallion rearing up like that caught me off guard.

Kat straightened her back. Accidents happen. The stallion startled Peaches too. Being empathetic did not come easy when his actions resulted in a runaway horse.

You’re lucky, you know, to have a place like the Flying Horse Ranch. Not everyone can make a go of a dude ranch in such a lonely, small-town place.

My family built this ranch. Tumblecreek has snowboarding in the winter and watersports in the summer. There’s the ranch, a feed store, a market, a gas station, and farther down the road, a golf course. She slowed the horse. As you say, I’m lucky to have this ranch and a family who loves me and will help me make a go of it. Kat pulled on the reins.

Why are we stopping? He leaned forward against her back.

Deer—a doe and two yearlings. Kat stiffened upright, signaled toward a family of mule deer with large ears, and sat motionless while the doe, alerted to their presence, walked into the tall brush at the far side of the clearing. One of the two offspring glanced in their direction and then back at their mother. Both yearlings sprinted into the brush. The familiar scene soothed Kat’s unrest after the disappearance of Flame.

She clicked softly and nudged her horse along the path. The wind gusted as they arrived near the water, relieving the heat of the sun in the clearing. She halted Scout and checked her pack—a habit she picked up when working in the field. Her two-way radio and her veterinarian bag went everywhere with her.

Cade pointed in the direction of the wooden dock. There’s my horse. He slid off the mount and then walked toward the runaway animal.

Kat pulled out a two-way radio. Paxton, Peaches is at Tipicon Lake. No sign of Flame.

He responded with a short Ten-four.

Kat urged her horse into the clearing. Peaches munched the long bunchgrass by the edge of the lake, but suddenly, she pricked her ears forward and turned her head in the direction of the lake. The lake drew Kat’s attention where a small vehicle that was barely visible above the brush moved out of sight with a roaring of its engine—something to examine later after her runaway horses were back in the corral.

She cast an experienced eye over Cade and his horse. The reins hung free, and Cade grabbed them and said, Steady, girl. Peaches sidestepped with a hobble. Something about the horse’s motion warned her.

The horse flicked her ears at the sound of the man’s voice. Cade reached down, tickled the horse under the chin, and ran a hand through her mane with his other hand. Kat gave him credit for his easygoing manner and unhurried actions that soothed the skittish horse. As his foot stepped into the stirrup, Kat realized what she had failed to recognize.

No. Kat’s no-nonsense voice matched her serious-minded attention to Peaches.

Cade stopped at once, turned, and raised his eyebrows in question.

Peaches is lame. That’s why she didn’t follow the black stallion beyond the lake. Kat dismounted and then wrapped her reins around a low-hanging branch.

Cade disengaged from Peaches but kept a hand on the lead.

Kat walked to the horse’s side. Hold her closer to the bit, and I’ll check her foot. She bent over and pulled up the horse’s leg, and then she placed it back on the ground. Something’s caught in her shoe. She rummaged in her pack for a hoof pick, pulled up the horse’s leg, and then flicked a pebble from the sole of the hoof. Her irritation had dissipated since finding Peaches. Discovering Cade could take direction when she told him to stop sent him up a notch or two in her estimation. She lowered the horse’s leg, aware of the man by her side watching her movements.

Peaches should be fine. Walk her around to be sure. She repacked her bag.

Cade held the reins and led the horse in a circle. She seems okay. Your father said you’re an animal vet.

True, but pulling a pebble from a horseshoe didn’t take eight years of training, requiring a degree and license in veterinary medicine. Equine care is my specialty. You know your way around horses? She straightened and noted Cade glancing across the lake. She turned but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary and wondered at his unexplained scrutiny of the lake. Maybe it was the motorized vehicle that had caught his attention.

Some. He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. I finished a job at the Gatson Stables in Wyoming. An opportunity came to work at the Flying Horse.

Lucky for you. Gatson Stables, huh? He didn’t say anything more under her scrutiny. The Gatson fire ruined that family’s horse ranch. Why had he decided to come to California on her family’s ranch? He had shown himself able-bodied and quick on his feet around horses—even considering his horse had dumped him. As her dad’s choice to help the ranch, he had yet to prove himself, but she noted a self-conscious hunch to his shoulders as though doubting himself—probably against the onslaught of media accusations he received because of the Gatson Stables fire.

Suppressing her mixed feelings of pity and compassion, Kat turned her horse toward home. Let’s head back.

He hesitated. What about the other horses?

She motioned her mount forward. There’s no sign of Flame, and there’s no telling how far she’s gone following the stallion. I don’t like it. But I’ll have to trust she knows her way around the ranch, and she’ll find her way home. The stallion is wild.

Cade shrugged and followed suit. He’s a fine horse. Seems he’d be better off tamed than stealing your mares.

Yeah? You worked with horses at the Gatson place, so you know he won’t be easy to catch. Let’s hang onto the horses we have before chasing after Thunder. Kat guided Scout alongside Peaches where the trail widened.

He turned his head to face her. Is Thunder the name you gave the stallion?

She caught the surprised look in his eyes. Thunder’s what I call him. How does a renegade horse rate your attention so that you followed him on the ridge?

He spread his arm in an expansive gesture. I happened upon that stallion by chance. That horse has agility, and he’s built for speed. He’s canny too.

She shook her head. Sounds like you admire that horse, but remember why you’re here. Maybe you can improve the ranch. She had noted the same qualities in Thunder. Maybe this man and his horse were both too smart for their own good.

Your father hired me as foreman. I’m here to assess the ranch, recommend improvements from a business standpoint, and implement changes to increase revenue. The black stallion is an impressive horse, but he’s a hindrance. The solution is to catch and confine him.

She laughed. Confine Thunder? First, you track and catch him.

The motorized sounds of off-road vehicles roared in the distance. Kat didn’t think much of it since sound carried some distance over the lake, but she noted Cade glancing beyond the far shoreline. When she turned, the sparkling blue lake lay placid in the bright sun.

She gently slapped her leg and then patted Scout’s neck. Let’s go, boy. Her horse shot ahead, and Peaches followed. Over her shoulder she heard the long-legged man urge Peaches to keep pace on the dirt-packed trail back to the lodge.

Has this happened before?

What? She turned her palm up to emphasize the question. The vanishing mare or the spooked herd? This is the first time for both since you arrived.

Thunder’s acting on instinct. With the onset of spring, it’s the breeding season for horses. Your mare jumped the fence and followed the stallion. There’s no blame here. He spoke in a matter-of-fact voice that carried a full, rich tone like a warm hearth that makes a family room cozy.

You sound like you admire him. How did you know to saddle Peaches? Ned’s the ranch hand scheduled for horse handler duty today. I wonder where he is.

Well, now that’s a fine stallion. I saddled Peaches because she was loose. I didn’t see anyone else around. Is Ned that skinny guy who eats pumpkin seeds? Something in his voice caught her attention.

That’s Ned. He’s twenty-five and slim with big hands. He has reddish brown hair and lots of freckles. He’s a hard worker when he works but seems upset that he’s no longer top dog on the Flying Horse Ranch. I wonder where he is.

He wasn’t anywhere handy when I needed a horse. I saw that black horse on the peak, so I saddled Peaches and went to look. As soon as I got close, Thunder went up on his hind legs, Peaches bucked, and I hit the ground.

You sure did. She chuckled. That was a sight to see. It’s not every day that one of her horses threw a rider. Most of the time, her horses loved to be ridden.

They arrived back at Tuckahoe Lodge.

She reigned in Scout when they reached the wide, circular paved driveway and then crossed to the dirt-packed ranch yard. After dismounting, she gave Scout a hug and an affectionate pat, and then she handed the lead to Paxton.

The older man took Scout’s reins from Kat and led the horse to the large, well-built stable. Paxton paused before the huge wooden sliding doors. Did you see anything odd up there? He spoke to Kat, and she in turn glanced at Cade, who had dismounted Peaches.

Cade hesitated before he spoke. I noted some movement up there at the lake. That’s when a small set of binoculars inside his shirt jacket became visible.

She frowned and walked with the men to the stables. She hadn’t noticed anyone around the lake—just the sound of a quad. What’s going on here? Why didn’t you say somebody was at the lake?

Cade shrugged. I’m not sure I actually saw anybody.

I see. In the stable tack room, Kat unsaddled the horse while the men talked. Cade had taken on the role of foreman, and in that capacity she supposed he should take an interest in anything unusual on the ranch.

Cade leaned against one of the stalls. Something startled Peaches. I saw a flash of green and yellow. Appeared to be two men.

Kat led Scout inside a stall and uncinched the saddle while Paxton stripped the gear and then stowed the tack on the wall.

Could be, Paxton spoke to the point with few words. Could be trouble.

Chapter 2

A CURIOUS ACCIDENT

S