Ambush (Michael Bennett 11) - Page 20
The other six men and women, who worked in the stables near the house, kept their distance but gave Alex a polite wave. She was home, and she felt it. She didn’t think anything could dampen her mood.
As soon as Alex was inside and the girls were dutifully running one of her bags into her bedroom, she felt her phone vibrate. When she looked down at the text message, she immediately recognized the number. It was her contact with the Mexican drug cartel.
The text message was simple and to the point: Michael Bennett is alive.
Chapter 28
Alex Martinez understood how much she missed her daughters when she was away. Today she was getting an idea of how much Gabriela and Clemency had missed her.
They were ready to ride, each in her own style.
Clemency wore everything perfectly. English riding boots halfway up her calves, her riding pants tucked neatly into the boots. And Gabriela looked just like an outlaw from a 1950s movie. Right down to the red bandanna tied around her neck. Her wild dark hair poked out from underneath the tiny Stetson.
Alex helped the girls saddle their own horses. She wanted them to be self-sufficient as well as understand how to keep the horses calm and healthy. She showed Gabriela the proper way to ease the bit into the horse’s mouth. The little girl focused on the lesson completely.
Clemency lately had favored a colt named Samuel. Alex didn’t think her daughter got the joke that someone had named the horse after the famous gun manufacturer Samuel Colt.
Gabriela had recently been riding a pony named Biscuit. Alex could see why. The little horse had a wild mane and was full of energy. They were made for each other.
When Alex was growing up, her British riding instructor had always referred to horses like Biscuit as a Welsh cob. That was not a term you heard frequently in Colombia. Out of respect for the man who was very important during her formative years, Alex still called Biscuit a Welsh cob.
As much as she relaxed at times like this, she always stayed aware of her surroundings, conscious of how many enemies an assassin makes during his or her career. Her
9mm Beretta hung in a bag from her saddle, always within easy reach. One of the habits she had picked up since she stumbled into her profession as a young college grad.
The girls’ father, Rafael, never agreed with her choice of jobs. That might have helped push him out the door to shack up with a cruise-ship dancer. The girls got postcards from all over the world now but rarely saw their shiftless father, who lived off a trust fund.
Gabriela giggled, which made Alex twist in the saddle to see what her daughter found so amusing.
Biscuit was sniffing the hindquarters of Clemency’s colt, Samuel.
Alex looked ahead again to hide her smile.
Clemency trotted up, then had to fight to control Samuel.
Alex said, “You’re doing great, Clemmy, but think of you and Samuel as one. You’re part of him, and he’s part of you. Let him feel your confidence.”
Clemency nodded and immediately tried a quick turn and sprint, her long, dark ponytail flowing behind her.
Now Gabriela caught up to her mother.
“How am I doing, Mama?”
“Wonderful, baby. You and Biscuit are perfect together.”
Alex was distracted by another rider coming from the direction of the ranch. She tensed and unbuckled the pouch holding her pistol.
Then she recognized the rider and called out, “Manny.”
Her slim thirty-three-year-old cousin smiled as he approached.
Alex leaned over and kissed him.
He said, “You look beautiful, as always.”
The girls both raced up to greet her cousin, whom they called Uncle Manny.
Manny said, “I propose a race. Your mama and me, to the far hill and back. You two will be the referees in case she tries anything funny.”
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