Reckless Renegade

Chapter 1.

It takes a special kind of crazy to make a career out of horses. We work from dawn to dusk with animals that are nearly 10 times our size. We work seven days a week with no paid time off, no health insurance, and no job security. Our partners have minds of their own, and like us, they have good days and bad days. The horse industry is expensive, and there is no guaranteed payout. You can dedicate your entire life to horses, spend all of your money on them, and still never make it. I knew all of this when I chose to pursue a career with horses. But I was determined to do it anyway.

Some people would say it was crazy of me to load everything I owned into the back of my beat-up old blue pickup truck and drive straight to Florida with no money, no concrete plans, and no family support. My mother, disappointed that I had refused to go to college, was no longer speaking to me. My father had been dead for 10 years, and if I had any other family, I didn't know them. Sure, it sounded crazy, but I preferred to think of my adventure as a calculated risk, not a lapse of sanity.

Besides, as an eventer, I was used to people calling me crazy. See, eventers are crazy even to other people in the horse world. We're the craziest of the crazy. That's because we jump massive, solid fences that could kill us if we miscalculate. It's so dangerous that we actually wear our medical information strapped to our arms while we compete. It's reckless, exhilarating, and not for the faint of heart. I couldn't imagine anything I would rather do with my life.

My plan, if it could even be called that, was this: I would drive to Florida, find a working student position, improve my riding skills, buy a horse, and ultimately, ride in the Olympics. That's right, remember the name Carson Mitchell, because one day, I will be representing the United States.

Too bad life never goes according to plan.

Now, as I sat on the side of the Florida turnpike late at night, clutching my pocket knife in terror as a hulking giant of a man peered through my window, I wondered if I had taken the whole 'horse crazy' thing a little too far.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," the man said. His voice was deep and gruff, almost gravelly sounding. "I just noticed you were parked here on the side of the road without your lights on, and I wanted to make sure everything was okay. I'm a tow truck driver. Do you need help getting somewhere?"

As a matter of fact, I did, but I wasn't sure I trusted him enough to say that. My truck had started sputtering and backfiring like Chitty Chitty Bang Bang shortly after I crossed the border from Georgia to Florida. I had pulled over on the side of the road before my truck died out completely, but my cellphone battery was dead and the truck wouldn't even start now.

A quick glance out the rearview mirror confirmed that he was driving a tow truck. I wondered if I should tell him my truck had broken down, or just send him off and walk for help.

"I'll be fine," I replied. I hoped that was true, anyway.

The man shook his head. "That's not what I asked. Do you have help coming?"

I paused. The whole situation was kind of creepy, especially since it was late at night, and this man could have easily abducted me and no one would ever know. I didn't want to give him any information.

"Yup," I lied, not offering any information.

"Good, good," the man said. "I'll just wait here until your help comes then. I can't in good conscience leave you stranded on the side of the road. You can't be more than, what, 16?"

"I'm 18, not 16," I said curtly. "And I told you, I'm fine. You can go."

The man snorted with laughter. "Practically a grown woman, I see. You don't have any help coming, do you?"

I remained silent, not sure there was anything I could say to convince the man to leave.

"Look," he continued. "I don't feel right leaving you stranded on the side of the road. So how's this? I'll tow your truck to my shop, and have my guys look at it first thing tomorrow morning. I'll drop you off at the hotel across the street or anywhere local you wanted to go, and we can get you back on the road hopefully by tomorrow night. Sound fair?"

I gulped, knowing that the $950 in my wallet probably wouldn't cover a truck repair. And I didn't really have the money for a hotel room either. I had planned to sleep in my truck until I had a job lined up.

The man must have noticed my apprehension, because he added, "If you don't have the cash to repair it, you can work off part of the bill by manning the front desk, or you can make payments. And if you need a place to stay the night, there's a bed in my office. You can stay there if you'd like. The door locks with a deadbolt too, if you're worried about that."

I hesitated, fiddling with the locket I always wore around my neck. My dad had given it to me a few months before he died, and it was the last gift I'd ever gotten from him. I was worried that this man's offer was too good to be true, but I didn't have a lot of good options at the moment. "Sir, why are you so eager to help me?"

"The name's Big John, not sir," he said gruffly. "And--well, let's just say you remind me of someone who was very dear to me."

"Who?" I asked, then blushed. It wasn't any of my business, but I was curious.

"I'd rather not talk about it. It's personal," Big John grunted, then busied himself hooking my truck up to the tow truck. After a few minutes, he knocked on the window.

"My shop's about a 10 minute drive from here," he said. "And the offer stands. If you need a place to stay, my office is open. If you were my kid, I'd want to know you had good people looking out for you."

"Thank you," I said softly. Big John just nodded and got in his truck.

The entire ride, I couldn't help but wonder if I was doing the right thing. Coming to Florida in the first place had been crazy enough, but trusting a complete stranger with my safety? Well, maybe everyone was right. Maybe I was crazy.

Maybe it would be better to just go home, make peace with my mother, and go to college. I would still be able to ride, just not as a job. And maybe, that would be better. It would definitely be safer.

But I couldn't imagine that sort of life ever making me happy. Crazy or not, I was here now, and I was going to find a way to enjoy the ride.