Harnessed Passions by Dee Jones Read Free Book Online Page A

across the hope chest at
the foot of her small brass and the crisp white sheets had been
pulled down over a pale pink and white patchwork quilt. The pink
rug appeared new and the smell of paint still lingered in the room
to assure her the white walls had been repainted, but besides that
everything was just as it always had been…pink and outdated.
    Julia sat down at the vanity, looking around
the room through the reflection in the mirror. God, how she hated
the color pink, she thought. She remembered arguing with her mother
for weeks over decorating her room. She wanted bright green, maybe
even blue, but eventually her mother won out and she was stuck with
pink. She moaned as she looked through the open door to her private
wash closet; even it was pink. It was enough to make a grown person
cringe with nausea.
    Sighing deeply, she reluctantly surrendered
to the fatigue that had been threatening her stamina all afternoon
and climb into her bed, slipping between the clean, cool sheets.
All she wanted was a long, undisturbed forty-eight hours sleep. But
since this wasn't possible, she'd settle for a little peace and
quiet.

Chapter Three
    Victor's condition continued to deteriorate
at an alarming rate, as the days that followed Julia's return was
filled with compact lessons on horses and feed. He kept his promise
to her however, devoting his mornings to teaching her everything he
could in the amount of time he was given. They went over basic
horse breeding - or horse sense, as her father liked to call it;
customer lists, invoices and grooming techniques, feed storage and
even shoeing.
    Everything was brief, yet condensed enough
for her to get the jest of it, leaving Julia to carry around a
ledger in order to keep track of all her father crammed into her
brain. She was amazed that she never learned any of this when she
was growing up. She spent her entire life on this ranch and had no
idea the depth of detail that went into each and every aspect of a
horse’s life.
    It was on one such day, after Victor became
too weary to continue with her studies and retired to his room;
that Julia decided to take her pent up emotions out on the familiar
fields where she used to ride as a child. She ordered Patty, the
Irish immigrant who worked in the stables, to saddle her chestnut
mare, Biscuit. She rode out to the open pasture, urging Biscuit
into a hard run. The wind whipped her long dark hair loose from its
silk restraint, allowing it to fly wildly behind her. The sun shone
on her creamy complexion, burning her cheeks a delicate pink. She
laughed aloud, riding as though the world no longer existed,
feeling the freedom she could only experience on Biscuit's
back.
    The smell of hay and manure filled her lungs
and the sound of birds flying overhead did much in lifting her
mood. She felt alive and free for the first time in weeks; no
thoughts of death, no worries of trespassers and no confusion of
whether to leave or stay. She was alone and happy and continued to
ride until late into the afternoon.
    When she returned to the stables shortly
before supper, she felt relaxed and ready for her next lessons with
her father. She led Biscuit into her stall and gave her a generous
bag of oats, patting her neck as she began to eat. Unable to locate
the mare's brush, she bent and gathered a handful of clean straw to
rub the horse’s coat down with. Her hand had just clutched a
fistful of the sweet smelling hay, when she developed an odd
awareness of being watched. She glanced behind her and noticed the
man staring at her with a strange smile on his tanned face. Julia
straightened to her full height of five feet, five inches and tried
to look dignified - especially considering she had only moments
before offered the man full sight of her rear end.
    He was very handsome, more than six feet
tall with straight blondish-brown hair held back in a leather
restraint at the nape of his neck; his skin was deeply tanned,
which told her he spent a great deal of time