by Mindy Neff
“Thank you, my dear.”
Now Tanner definitely knew it was time to leave. Her green eyes were shining, her soft lips stretched into a smile. She made him ache just to look at her; made him want. And being so close to Jordan and unable to touch her, to take her to bed, to spend time with her, was pure torture.
“The two of you look like you can handle things from here,” Tanner said. “I’ll catch you later.”
The happy smile left Jordan’s face. “You’re leaving?”
“I need to check on the dogs.”
“But—”
He couldn’t help himself. He had to touch her, With a single finger, he caressed her lips. stopping her words. Wanting to linger, knowing he’d never have the strength to leave if he did, he pulled back and stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“Mr. B. will be here if you need anything.” Left unspoken was the fact that Samuel would be welcome to stay on Grazer property. Tanner would not.
“You need time to get reacquainted with your family,” he said softly. “If you need me, Mr. B. can find me.”
Chapter Twelve
Tanner headed the Jeep toward Grazer’s Vineyards. He’d given Jordan two days to settle in, using the time to do his own subtle investigation, talking with the people in town, checking the buzz. Small towns were notorious for gossip. He was a little surprised by the curiosity and acceptance this town extended him. Expecting to be met with censure, prepared to either field or ignore questions about his father, he hadn’t exactly behaved in a charming manner.
The hell of it was, nobody seemed to notice. They treated him like a returning hero because he’d saved their golden girl.
The endless questions and speculations about Mr. B. tipped him off. He had an idea his friend had gone before him, singing his praises to anyone who would listen. Agatha Flintstone was at the head of the fan club.
Well, that would probably change soon enough. Once Maynard Grazer was back on his feet, he wouldn’t waste any time reminding the good folks of Grazer’s Corners who Tanner really was, who his father had been. The old adage Breeding Will Tell flashed through his mind.
He’d thought he didn’t care anymore. But he did. Not just for himself, but for how it would affect Jordan.
With the whole town aware and alert for potential danger, Tanner figured it would take an armored tank to get past the lines and to Jordan if someone was stupid enough to make another attempt.
Driving around to the back of the stables, he stopped the Jeep, then opened the rear door. “Let’s go, girl,” he called to Annie, lifting the box he’d put Buddy and Pal in. The puppies scrambled up, tripped over each other and scratched at the sides of the box.
He grinned at their antics. He’d miss these little guys.
The interior of the stables was cool and smelled of animals and hay and grain, of liniment and leather. Horses hung their heads over chest-high doors, whickering softly to one another. A concrete aisleway, sloped for drainage, ran through the center of the open ended structure.
He found Jordan in Honor Bleu’s stall with her arms around the stallion, cheek to cheek as though they were sharing intimate secrets—or saying goodbye. Something shifted inside him, a fierce protectiveness. Jordan Grazer shouldn’t have so many responsibilities on her shoulders. He wanted to ease her burdens but was afraid that in trying to do so, he might just add to them.
Money could buy peace of mind, pay off mortgages and update supplies, but it couldn’t buy acceptance.
And in her family’s eyes, Tanner was far from acceptable.
He stood where he was for another moment, drinking in the sight of woman and horse. Both had glossy midnight hair, hair so black it nearly shone blue. It was hard to tell where one left off and the other began. And what a sight they made, both of them sleek and beautiful... so unique.
The stallion reared his head and Jordan whirled.
“Oh, you startled me.” Soon enough, though, fear vanished, and her green eyes lit with welcome, making him feel as though he’d come home at last.
Was there hope? he wondered. Could he belong here? In her life? Dear God, he was afraid to let that yearning take hold, afraid that she was a star, and that his reach would only extend as far as the moon.
“I brought you something,” he said quietly.
“So I see.” She closed the door to Bleu’s stall, then bent down to pat Annie before treating each of the puppies to a playful tickle. “I thought you were going to keep them.”
“They’ll be happier out here.”
She gave him a long, searching look, a look that held sadness and understanding. She knew he was here to tell her goodbye. He turned away.
“You just missed Samuel.” She stood, leaving the puppies to play in their box.
“I know. I called him and told him I was coming.”
“Are the two of you taking shifts with me?” She patted the cheek of a chestnut yearling who occupied the stall opposite Bleu’s. “Do you suspect another attempt?”
“No. I’m fairly certain you’re safe. As for Mr. B., I’m having a hard time dragging him away from your horses.”
Jordan smiled even though her heart wasn’t in it. She understood the significance of him bringing the puppies. He would be hitting the road soon, a maverick on a Harley who had yet to find his roots, a place he wanted to stay long enough to allow pets.
“Samuel appreciates fine stock. It’s hard not to fall in love with them.” She noticed how Tanner automatically reached out to stroke Bleu, and her pulse leaped at the sight of those beautiful, scarred hands stroking her horse. Images of those hands on her were keeping her up at night.
Afraid she’d cry...or beg, she forced a smile. “I swear Bleu’s turning into an old woman right before my eyes. He rarely lets people get this close—especially men. Now he’s taken a shine to three of you—Sonny, Samuel and you.”
“Shows he’s got good taste. And shame on you for calling him an old woman. It’s plain as day he’s all male.”
“True.” They were like wary opponents, circling, each reluctant to make the first move. And oh, how she wanted to take that initial step. She wanted to kiss him, to ease into his arms and lose herself in passion. He had his hair tied into a ponytail today, wore threadbare Levi’s and a T-shirt that fit him like a second skin. The epitome of a bad boy. Yet the gentle way he stroked Bleu was at odds with his clenched-jaw look, and it was creating all sorts of fantasies.
“So why is it that Bleu’s leery around men?”
“I don’t know, since I never actually met the previous owners.” She noticed that he kept looking at her as if measuring the distance between them, as if contemplating the feasibility of using the hay in one of the stalls as a bed. It made her palms sweat.
“Of course, the way he’s taken to you and your friends, maybe it’s just the men around here he doesn’t like. Then again, perhaps you’ve just got the right touch.” He certainly did with her. “Even injured, he was a handful for the vets at UC Davis.”
“Is that where you got him?”
She nodded. “We heard about him through a friend of Daddy’s and drove out to Davis to have a look. He was a Kentucky Derby winner with impeccable lineage, but on his last race, a freak accident caused hairline cracks in his leg. He was healing and the vets couldn’t keep him much longer, but the owner didn’t seem to want him back. He’d just dropped him off like a used towel. One look into those spirited eyes and I had to have him.”
“Even if he was washed up on the racing circuit, didn’t the owner see the potential as breeding stock?”
“No. Very few did, for that matter. Bleu’s got spirit and style and stamina, but he’s also got a mean streak that comes across as unmanageability. He could be considered a wild card, chancy.” She picked up a currycomb that had fallen off the ledge and set it aside. “I didn’t agree. I believe that those qualities are what gave him the drive and determination to win—I told you he’s stubborn and hates for another horse to get in front of
him. He’s the type of horse that if he wants to go left and you want to go right, you go left. He wants things his way.”
“A little like his owner, hmm? Bet the two of you have gone a few rounds.”
“A few. Some of them, he even lets me win.” She glanced fondly at the stallion. “That’s because he has heart. I knew that right away, the first time I laid eyes on him, and that’s what makes him special. Ask anything of him and he’ll give it. Right off, I’d have laid money that he’d produce winners. All I needed was the right mare who wouldn’t cost me an arm and a leg.”
“Find her?”
“Yeah. I pored over the circuit news, watching for retired or injured horses. That’s how I got Pride of Chance. She was languishing on a ranch out in San Jacinto. Most people are really good to their horses—then there are others who ought to be shot for their shoddy treatment and lack of caring.”
He reached out and plucked a piece of straw from her hair. “So you rescue strays and champion the underdog.”
Something in his voice made her pause. He might as well have added, “Like me.” It was there in the barest flicker of his whiskey eyes. Yes, she almost responded. And I fall in love with all of them—like you.
But she wasn’t free to voice that thought, to feel that emotion. And that made her eyes sting. Since her palms were itching to touch, she curled them into fists.
“I don’t see it as rescuing strays. I simply look past the obvious and determine the potential.”
“And if you found one who didn’t have potential?”
For some reason, she thought he was asking a deeper question, one that had nothing to do with livestock. In any case, she answered honestly. “I’d still bring them home. There’s plenty of interest in good riding stock.”
“For your handicapped kids?”
“How did you know about them?”
“Heard about it in town. Agatha Flintstone appears to know quite a bit about your life. She admires you.”
Jordan grinned, regaining her balance. “You’ve been talking to Agatha?”
“Figured I’d screen her for Mr. B., especially since he’s building kinky fantasies around the woman.”
She laughed then, feeling lighter somehow. “What do you think?”
“Well, you’re right. I could imagine stuff more kinky than—”
She swatted him on the arm. “Not about the fantasy. About Agatha.”
“Strange, eccentric, no-nonsense. Has her finger on the pulse of the town. Smart, with a real sweet streak running through her that most folks don’t recognize.”
“You’re very astute.”
“And you’re a softie. If you’re going to breed winners, Blackie, you have to let go. You can’t fall in love with each one, tame them, keep them.”
Just like she couldn’t tame or keep Tanner. “Are we talking about horses?”
A tightening at the corners of his eyes gave him away. “What else?”
She decided to let it pass. “Whether I fall in love with them or not doesn’t change the fact that I’ve got a good start. Bleu will sire winners. He might be a little hard to handle, rough around the edges, but he’s still a gentleman.”
“Leaves his lady well satisfied?”
Just that quickly, desire shot through her. It was the look in his eyes, the devilish spark that vied with the heat. And oh, how she knew he would leave his lady satisfied.
But she wasn’t his lady.
That didn’t keep her from wanting him, though; from wanting to ignore the obligations of her world for just a little longer.
She looked away, afraid that if she didn’t, she’d do something highly inappropriate.
And get away with it, she realized. They were alone. The opportunity was there. Her heart pounded harder. She had to stop her thoughts from straying to the possibilities of her and Tanner as a couple—in bed.
To distract herself, she lifted the puppies out of their box and headed toward the tack room that led to the bunkhouse. With a practiced eye, she noted each glossy chestnut yearling and filly she passed, making a mental note to get the latch repaired on Serendipity’s stall.
To an outsider, the stables would appear to be in tip-top condition, but Jordan saw beyond the tidy white walls and freshly washed concrete. It took money to keep this place up.
The weight of responsibility settled over her again. She loved the smell of the stables, the familiar feel. She couldn’t lose it, couldn’t do that to Daddy or to her horses.
For her family, for the precious lives of her animals, she had to go through with the marriage to Randall.
She heard Tanner’s footsteps in her wake, and a horrible ache welled inside her.
Maynard still needed the loan from Randall’s bank, and the added medical expense that had just cropped up made their situation so much worse.
Granted, their sketchy finances were due in part to Maynard not wanting to lower his standard of living. But she’d benefited from those standards, had accepted the cars and credit cards and horses, hadn’t questioned the source of the funds that kept the stables running.
Until it was almost too late.
She owed her father. And as much as she wanted to take something for herself, to beg Tanner to stay—or to take her with him when he left—she couldn’t.
They’d both known the score, known that she wasn’t free to build a future with him. Still, it didn’t make the idea of parting any easier to accept.
Leather slapped against the wall as Tanner fiddled with the tack. “So, how’s it going with Russell?”
She nearly bobbled the puppies. “Randall,” she muttered automatically, wondering if he’d somehow tapped into her thoughts. But she didn’t want to think about Randall now. Not with Tanner standing so close. “Things are fine.”
“Funny, you still don’t look like an eager bride.”
She caught a whiff of his scent, clean and masculine. Her nerves jumped like a skittish filly’s. “You’ve been around a lot of brides, have you?”
“Just the one I stole off the church steps.”
“Rescued,” she corrected, unable to look away from the gentleness in his eyes.
He touched her cheek. “You change your mind?”
Her eyes closed on a wave of despair. “I know what’s expected of me.”
Tanner wanted to shake her. “You’ll still go through with it? Even after what we shared up at the lake?”
Her eyes flashed open. “Yes.”
His breath hissed. “It’s about money again, isn’t it?”
“I won’t give up my horses.” Her shoulders squared. “And I won’t give up on Daddy.”
“Hell, Jordan, I’ll make the damned loan.”
“How? By asking Samuel?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer. She eased up to him, laid a hand on his chest. “I can’t let you do that.”
He opened his mouth, admission right there, but she placed a fingertip across his lips. An erotic current sparked straight to his brain, then bolted like lightning right to his jeans, making him rigid.
“We both knew, Tanner.”
Knew that she was to be married. To another man. A country-club hobnobber with soft hands, perfectly styled blond hair, impeccable manners and a politician’s smile.
Tanner felt like smashing his fists into the nearest wall.
“Can’t your old man see this isn’t what you want?”
She wouldn’t hold his gaze.
He tipped a finger under her chin, urged her to look at him. “Maynard’s ticked that I’m the one who had you.” In more ways than one. “The son of a Caldwell.”
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “Daddy’s set in his ways.”
“Have the two of you fought?”
Although he still held her chin, her eyes lowered. An answer in itself.
And that was when Tanner’s hope died, when he realized that it wouldn’t work. She had the weight of the world—or at least of her family’s estate—on her shoulders. His presence only m
ade her burden heavier. If he stayed, if he pushed, he would only cause a rift between Jordan and her family.
And family was important to her.
He couldn’t do it. He loved her enough to let her go.
Even as he resigned himself to the heartache, she threw him a curve by gripping his shirtfront and pulling him into a kiss that had the ground shifting beneath his feet.
“I know it’s wrong,” she said against his lips. “I can’t seem to help myself. I want you, Tanner.”
Want. Dear God, he knew about wanting. He’d spent a good portion of his life yearning for what other people took for granted. The simple peace of acceptance, to be able to walk down the street without having to use his fists to defend that right.
And as he’d grown, suffered through the hard knocks of life, those wants had shifted, expanded. He’d craved power and respect, and the money that would ensure both.
But even those obsessions paled in comparison to what Jordan made him feel. She stripped his mind clean until there was nothing left but naked sensation.
Her lips were eager and greedy and just a little desperate. He, too, felt that desperation, that need. As razor sharp as a hunting knife, it stripped away the layers of manners and civilized ethics he’d carved out for himself, honed over the years. Everything about this woman, her touch, her scent, drove him mad, unleashed the reckless man beneath the careful exterior.
“Hell, Jordan, let’s take this somewhere else. Anybody could walk in.”
“No.” She jerked his shirttail from the waist of his jeans. “Samuel’s gone. Nobody comes out here except Daddy and he’s in town at the doctor’s.” With a frustrated moan, she abandoned his shirt and whipped her own over her head.
Thrown off stride, he felt his mouth fall open. Her shirt went sailing, landing squarely on a saddlehorn that hung from the wall. Her busy fingers worked on the buttons of her jeans and she had them shucked down her legs before he could get his tongue up off the floor.
By damn, she wasn’t wearing a stitch under that denim.
“Hold on a second.” He kicked the door shut, twisted the lock and yanked his own shirt over his head. “You’re getting ahead of me, here. And I’m finding I’ve got something in common with your horse in that respect.”