all roads lead to you

by Probst, Jennifer

  Slowly, Aidan neared. He spoke in soothing tones, stroking the small animal, feeling its sharp ribs and rough coat. The goat never flinched, an air of despair and surrender in its very aura that told Aidan he’d already given up.

  Maybe this one wasn’t a fighter like Phoenix.

  Maybe this one was just too far gone to be brought back.

  Then again, didn’t he deserve a damn shot? Disabled did not mean disposable. Every single person had been roughed up at one time or another and got the opportunity to try again. Why should this goat not get his second chance?

  “I understand it’s a tough decision. I can wait till after you talk to Harper.” A small smile played on the vet’s lips. “I heard you’re living together now. I’m so happy for you both.”

  Aidan opened his mouth to explain, then shut it. Stared at the goat. And made the only decision he could. “I’ll take him. Just let me know everything I need to do.”

  She beamed and launched into a detailed description, promising to write everything down with some antibiotics, medicine droppers, and a few other pieces of equipment to help.

  Guess he had a new goat.

  Harper finished up with Anabelle, who was now the proud owner of Bruce, a retired carriage horse. The horse had been in bad shape when he came to the farm, but he was one of the sweetest, most well-adjusted geldings in the barn. She’d miss him, but the Palmer farm was a perfect place for him to live out the rest of his retirement. Harper loved each of her horses so much, but seeing them go to a permanent home was always the true goal.

  She guzzled down some water, and Chloe walked into the barn. “Hey, Harper, can I take Owen for a quick ride?”

  The girl had become an excellent rider, but Owen was so nervous, Harper was a bit hesitant. “Aidan only took him out twice. I don’t know if he’s ready for a solo yet.”

  Owen came around the corner. “I’ll be real careful and listen to what Chloe tells me,” he said in a rush, face carved out in longing.

  Harper bit her lip to keep from laughing at the overeager expression on the teen’s face. Damn, he had a bad crush. And it looked like Chloe didn’t have a clue.

  “What if you get spooked?”

  He shook his head and puffed out his chest. “Chloe’s been helping me a lot, and I’m not afraid anymore. I can take Flower. She’s real gentle.”

  Chloe smiled at him like he was a kid brother. “We won’t go on the trail. I’ll take him to the pasture and just do a simple walk. Chloe’s Pride needs some exercise today.”

  Harper nodded. “Okay. Wear your helmet, and listen to everything Chloe says.”

  “I will, thanks!”

  “Welcome.” She headed toward the barn, suddenly remembering her damn phone. Cursing, she ran to her desk, where she’d forgotten it, and glanced at the screen.

  Two missed calls from Aidan. One text:

  Call me ASAP. Need to make decision on goat.

  Nerves jangling, she responded quickly, waiting for the three dots of response.

  Nothing.

  She was just about to call Sara directly when the truck pulled into the driveway. Aidan climbed out, his hair mussed, his features settled into a hard, distant shell that made her pause in sudden dread. Her heart ramped up, and a bad feeling began to creep over her. “What happened? I’m so sorry, I forgot my phone when I was with Anabelle.”

  “Did she take Bruce?”

  “Yeah.”

  His smile held a grim edge that made her heart beat even faster. “Good. At least something decent came out of today.”

  “Aidan, tell me about the goat.”

  He rubbed his head and leaned against the faded black truck. “The poor thing was in rough shape. Starvation, dehydration, half-blind with half an ear. Probably dumped off the road and wandering for days. Broke my damn heart.”

  She cursed. So many to save. Too many lost due to simple cruelty. Hei Hei had been dumped to wander around, his lavish head feathers almost frozen from the cold, and she’d practically had to steal a bunch of runt piglets from a monster who called himself a farmer. Many she managed to place. Many she didn’t, but at least she offered them stable, happy lives here. “I wish they knew how it felt to be dumped to die. What was his prognosis?”

  Aidan looked uncomfortable. “Not good. Sara said he’d need round-the-clock care, and even then, she’s not sure he’ll be able to be back on a farm with his disability. She thinks he may be mute from the shock, and he may not recover his voice. He’s still fighting infection and needs a cocktail of meds. He’s a mess, love.” He paused.

  It was the sad gleam in his eyes that froze her insides. As if he were getting ready to tell her something she didn’t want to hear.

  “To be honest, I thought it may be best to let him go—”

  “Oh my God.” She placed a hand over her mouth. The rage hit out of nowhere. Her body shook with pent-up emotion and frustration. Aidan had chosen the easy way, like so many others. Saving a goat who might not even survive would be too hard. Too expensive. Too messy. Much easier to put a broken animal to sleep and pretend it was for the best. After all, his only focus was on Phoenix and winning. He wouldn’t want her distracted by playing nursemaid and keeping them from his real goal.

  Fuck that.

  “You killed him,” she whispered furiously, fingers clenching into fists. She took a few steps forward and got in his face, unable to contain herself. “You didn’t want any complications, but I would have taken him! Even if the odds were against him, I would’ve tried, but—” She broke off, and her heart shattered a bit at the cold lines of his face. “You just didn’t care. Did you tell her to do it right away? Do I still have time to save him?”

  “Harper—”

  “I should have known you’re like all the others. The only value you can see is money. I bet if something happened to Phoenix and he wasn’t able to race, you’d be out of here so fast the door would slam you in the ass.”

  “Stop.” His voice had gone dangerously low. The coldness was still there, along with a banked anger simmering like soup on a stovetop, ready to explode. “I’m trying not to lose my shit, but if you say one more word, you won’t like the consequences.”

  She gasped. A red mist settled over her vision, and her heart hurt, so she fell back to some nasty habits she still hadn’t been able to completely break.

  She hurt back.

  “I hope you see that goat’s face in your dreams,” she hissed. “I hope you wonder if he could have lived a happy life here on the farm with Hei Hei and the others. I hope you realize you were lazy and cruel and took the easy road out. Because that’s what you know best, right, Irish? Who cares if you leave nothing behind? I bet you’ve never had a real connection with anyone, have you?”

  In seconds, he’d lifted her completely off the ground, spun her around, and pressed her back against the truck. He leaned in, stealing her space, trapping her against his hard chest and the vehicle. His hands grasped her upper arms and his face settled inches from hers. She caught the rough scrape of stubble hugging his jaw; the defined, lush curve to his bottom lip; the hot fury in his cognac eyes; the stain of sunburn over his nose and cheeks.

  “Don’t you ever assume shit about me. You should be grateful I’m giving you a pass on this juvenile tantrum because I know you’re torn up inside.” His breath struck her mouth in tiny bursts. “I’ll say this once, and you will never question me again. I don’t quit because things get hard. I don’t toss away people or animals because they’re not easy.”

  “But—”

  “I didn’t put the damn goat down, Harper. I saved him. He’s in the truck, sleeping under a blanket. I have no idea what we’re going to do with him or if he’ll be able to adjust to the farm with his disability, but there was no fucking way I was giving up without a fair fight. Do you really think so little of me after the time we’ve spent together? Do you really think I’d give up on anything or anyone so quickly?”

  Her head spun like a careening Tilt-A-W
hirl, and she automatically reached out to hold on to him, her brain trying to register his words that changed everything.

  He had saved the goat.

  “Now, I’m going to clear my head. You’re going to figure out a plan. The care instructions and meds are in the glove compartment. Not sure if he’ll be okay with the dogs, but if I have to, I’ll sleep out here in the back barn with him, where it’s quiet.”

  Slowly, his hands dropped. For one heart-stopping moment, he lifted his fingers and pressed them gently over her lips in a whisper-soft caress. For one perfect moment, their gazes locked and their breaths melded.

  Then he muttered something in Irish—the same expression he’d used before—and pivoted on his heel in one lightning-speed moment. “His name is Captain Hoof,” he said roughly. “I know you’re obsessed with Disney names, and the only character I could think of was Captain Hook, so that will just have to do. I’ll see you later.”

  He stomped off. She heard the slam of the trunk. The scent of hay and feed and raw male temper scented the air.

  Slowly, she opened the front driver’s side door.

  The goat lay nestled in a sea of blankets wrapped securely around him. One ragged ear was scabbed over with blood. His eyes were shut and his breathing deep, with tiny little snorts emitting from his mouth. Two stubby horns poked out.

  And right then, she knew everything had changed.

  Harper just needed to decide what to do about it.

  Chapter Twelve

  Aidan squared his shoulders and opened the door to Harper’s place.

  Since their confrontation, he’d stayed away from her. She’d disappeared with the goat, and he’d thrown himself into work with Phoenix, not wanting to think of how close he’d come to kissing her. He figured she’d spent the last few hours stewing and plotting his demise. But damn, had she pissed him off. Assuming he’d put the poor goat down without a thought was a low blow. Even worse?

  The shot of pain from her crappy views on him.

  The woman was his own personal kryptonite.

  The scent of lemon and garlic hit him first, and he briefly wondered if he’d gone into the wrong house. His entry was blocked by a mass of wriggling, happy canines, who attacked him with licking tongues and needy paws. He knelt to give them his attention, enjoying how they made him feel like a king entering his castle. Figaro strolled toward him, her nose in the air with disgust as she watched her companions lose their dignity and roll onto their bellies.

  His lips quirked. “Want any of this?” he asked her, opening his palms to offer some petting.

  The cat hissed and stalked away. Yep, the feline loved playing hard to get. Just last night, she’d been snuggled up in his bed, purring madly.

  He pushed away the thought of another female purring in his arms and kept tight to his anger. He refused to forgive her too easily.

  “She likes you.”

  He looked up. Harper studied him with hooded eyes. She’d changed into a fresh pair of jeans and a black V-neck T-shirt that screamed ADOPT, DON’T SHOP! She’d stuffed her hair up in a clip. Her face was bare of makeup, and her feet were naked. The sight of those cherry-red painted toenails made him think she was hiding things. What type of sexy underwear was she hiding under those clothes? He had an instinct a peek would drive him to his knees.

  “She runs hot and cold. Sometimes I think she hates me.”

  She surrendered a smile, and his heart did that ridiculous flip-flop in his chest. “If she hated you, she’d ignore you all the time. That was her personalized way of greeting. She doesn’t want to give her trust too easily.”

  He stilled. Was there a double meaning in her last statement? “Yeah, I’m striking out with all the women in my life lately,” he finally muttered.

  “Not all.”

  The soft words hit him straight in the gut. He uncurled himself from the floor and regarded her thoughtfully. “I miss something?”

  She shrugged. “Just an apology. I’m sorry I thought the worst of you. I’m sorry I yelled.” A short awkward silence fell, and she forced her gaze to meet his. “Sometimes I forget not all people make the wrong decision. I forget some deserve trust.”

  His anger eased, and he nodded. “I can accept that.”

  “I made dinner.”

  “You made what?”

  She turned her back and went into the tiny kitchen, where all those smells emanated from. “Dinner. Well, kind of. I went to the Market, and Fran set me up with an entire home-cooked meal. All I had to do was stick it in the oven. I didn’t even burn it.”

  The pride in her voice was so adorable, he made sure not to show his amusement. He followed her into the kitchen and stopped short.

  She’d set the table. Oh sure, she’d used paper plates, but they were laid out in a precise way that told him she’d tried. Mismatched silverware lay on perfectly folded paper napkins. Jelly glasses full of water and two open beers flanked the plates, which were filled with lemon chicken and green herbs, tiny roasted potatoes, and crisp, bright green beans. A small loaf of bread wrapped in foil lay open and steaming. Drool gathered in his mouth, but what was even hotter than this amazing meal?

  Harper’s expression. A bit wary. And a lot expectant, as if waiting for his approval. She shifted her weight back and forth on those long legs and chewed absently at her lower lip. He bet the woman wasn’t used to trying to please many people, especially a man. The idea that she had worked so hard to back up a verbal apology told him a lot about her.

  Stuff he really, really liked.

  He smiled. Surprise flickered over her face, and then she smiled back. “If this is the way you say you’re sorry, we’re gonna be doing a lot of fighting,” he drawled.

  She laughed. “Don’t get used to it. I truly doubt I’ll be wrong again.”

  That made him laugh, too, as they sat at the small table, with the dogs smashed against their legs and heads tilted up just in case any scraps dropped. The first long sip of cold beer made him groan with pleasure. “Where’s the Captain?” he asked, setting the bottle down.

  “In my bedroom. I’ve been giving him some water and food every half hour like Sara instructed, and he woke up a few times and didn’t panic. Seemed calm, as if he sensed he was safe. But he hasn’t wanted to go out and explore yet. I’d like to try to get him out to potty, but at this point, I don’t think his body has much to expel yet.”

  He nodded, cutting up the chicken and forking up a bite. So. Good. Fran was a master of food. If he and Harper stayed together, there’d be no real reason for either of them to know how to cook. They’d just schedule regular meal pickup from Fran and—

  Wait. What was that thought?

  No. Hell no. This shack-up was temporary, and he was moving back to the inn tomorrow. Time to get his thoughts back in order. “How are we going to work caring for him tomorrow?”

  She took a sip of her own beer. He watched the muscles of her throat flex, and he imagined running his tongue over the sensitive flesh and downward. “I can take a day or two. Ethan and Chloe will pick up the slack on the farm, and I can work on paperwork from home. If he gets stronger, I can bring him to the farm in a few days. It’d be better for him there with the other animals. Goats like companions.”

  “You got these two goofballs,” he said, jerking his thumb. The dogs shook in delight, and he fed them each a chunk of chicken.

  “They’re quite gentle, and Figaro should leave him alone, but I’d rather he get used to farm life. I’ve done some studying on the internet about goats and what they need. I can’t leave him alone, so at least we can keep watch at work.”

  “I’ll come relieve you in the afternoon, when Phoenix is resting,” he said, cutting up his potato. Rosemary and olive oil clung to the skins, making them sheen. A groan of pleasure escaped. “We’ll give it a few days and work from there.”

  “You don’t have to,” she said softly.

  He drilled her with his gaze. “Yeah, I do. I’m just as responsible for his care
as you, love. Deal?”

  A smile bloomed on her lips. “Deal.”

  His heart squeezed into a merciless fist. Damn, she was beautiful. Did she realize it? He’d love proving it to her in a variety of ways.

  She cut up her chicken in tiny squares and gracefully popped them into her mouth. He enjoyed the way she ate like a lady. He’d been around workers on the farm and admitted most of their manners were rough—including his. He liked how she took care with her meal, pressing the napkin to her lips in regular intervals, as if they were on a date.

  He needed a distraction. Fast. “Has Ethan worked the farm his whole life?” he asked, the first question he came up with. But he was curious about the close bond she shared with her brother.

  “No, he was a Special Forces paratrooper. He was in Afghanistan when his leg was shot up pretty bad. You probably noticed he walks with a limp.”

  “Yeah, I noticed. Knew he was military, but I didn’t want to ask.”

  “He left about a year and a half ago and came home. Had PTSD. Took him a while to heal, but being on the farm and meeting Mia helped. He’s always been a bit of a horse whisperer.”

  “Yeah, I noticed that, too.”

  “He shares a special bond with Phoenix. Got the horse to take a saddle and ride again. Spent nights in the barn, calming his fears. The name he picked symbolized both of them. They’ve flourished.” A tiny sigh escaped her lips. He stared at her, fascinated by the sound that reminded him of faint longing. “Phoenix healed from Ethan. Ethan healed from Mia. Kind of beautiful, isn’t it?”

  He ached to slide his hand across the table and entwine his fingers with hers. Already the connection between them simmered like a low flame ready to rise. “It is. Your brother is a hell of man.” He took another pull of beer. “All of you are. Bet your mom was pretty amazing.”

  “She was. A hard worker. A fiery temper like Ophelia used to have. A heart so full of love, there was enough for the entire world. Ophelia’s husband, Kyle, had a hard time back in the day with his dad. He’d run to the farm and Mom always took him in. He was like another member of our family growing up.”