A Cowboy's Angel

by Pamela Britton

  “I feel like I’ve stepped into the devil’s lair.”

  She was only half joking, but she softened the words with an answering smile. He handed her the images.

  “Let’s see what we’ve got here.”

  She flipped through the pages until she found what she was looking for, a black-and-white scan with the name Summer written in a box on the bottom left, Zach’s last name right below that.

  “It doesn’t appear abnormal,” she mused out loud. She cocked her head to the side, studying the picture from all angles. “Like I said before, the only thing I can see, and I really don’t think this is the problem, are some narrow margins between the bones.” She spun the image in his direction. “Look.” She pointed. “See the line of the coffin bone. And then look at the navicular bone. There’s usually a wider margin here, but that doesn’t mean anything. Not really. It’s just the only thing I see.”

  She could see the disappointment in his eyes and it upset her in a way she wouldn’t have expected. Clearly, he’d gotten his hopes up.

  “I’m so sorry, Zach.”

  He played with the edge of the paper. “It’s not your fault.”

  “I know.”

  “I just wish I knew what was wrong with her.”

  “Me, too.”

  “You think maybe it’s a growth issue?”

  She pursed her lips. “I would if the pain wasn’t localized to her foot. She’s done growing down there, or she should be.” She frowned. “I just don’t know.”

  “Damn.”

  The word had been bouncing around in her own head. “Have you thought about taking her up to UC Davis for a better scan?”

  “It was suggested to me, but I just don’t have the money.” He got up from his chair, lifted his hat and ran his hands through his hair in a way that conveyed how deeply troubled he was.

  “You spend years, decades, perfecting a bloodline. All that work. Finding the perfect stallion. Breeding the mare. Hoping for a live foal. And then you get what you hope for and everything looks great, only to have this happen—and we don’t even know what this is.”

  The sadness on his face tugged at her heart, as did the way he traced the outline of his horse’s name on the radiograph as if trying to rewrite history and his filly’s past. She had to look away for a moment, but this time for a whole different reason. This was his life and, in the filly’s case, his future. If it turned out she had some type of genetic defect, she would be useless to him. A week ago Mariah would have said he didn’t care. A week ago she hadn’t known him.

  “I think it might be worthwhile to try some injections on her. It’s easy to do, costs relatively little money, and if it helps...”

  He looked up, frowned. “I suppose it’s worth a try. Anything’s better than watching her limp around.”

  She reached out and grabbed his hand, a part of her wondering why she always did that. Why did she feel this need to touch him?

  “She means a lot to you, doesn’t she?”

  “I would never send her to a slaughter, not even if she has some kind of genetic defect.”

  “I know that.”

  “Do you?”

  Something resembling a lump formed in her throat. “I do.”

  He squeezed her hand. She squeezed back. The urge to lean forward and kiss him, a wholly out-of-place urge, had her pulling her hand free.

  “You should come to a CEASE meeting.”

  Whoa. What?

  His mind appeared to be screaming the same word based on the way his eyes widened.

  “You’ve let me into your world, Zach.” She lifted her head because she knew it was the right thing to do. “I think maybe you should take a peek into my world.”

  He drew back, too, as his surprise faded. “Aren’t you worried?”

  She appreciated his attempt at humor, but it didn’t stop her heart from running away with her like a startled horse.

  What are you doing?

  “They’ll behave, and it will be good for them to see things from the other side, too.”

  “Like you have?”

  She shrugged. “You’re not half bad.”

  “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.”

  The memory of their kiss flashed through her mind. Worse, he was thinking about it, too. She could tell by the way his gaze lowered to her lips and the way the air suddenly felt as charged as during a storm.

  “Think about it,” she said, standing abruptly.

  Why, oh why, didn’t he get up, too? Why did she wish he would?

  “I should start working on Dasher.” She pointed over her shoulder.

  “I’ll be out in a minute.”

  She nodded and refused to look at him as she left his office.

  What are you doing?

  Befriending a racehorse owner.

  You want to be more than his friend.

  And the problem was, she knew it was true.

  Chapter Eleven

  The next CEASE meeting was a week away—too soon in Mariah’s book—but at least she’d stopped thinking about that stupid kiss. By Wednesday she’d worked on Dasher enough times to see a noticeable improvement. She’d ridden Dandy, too, enough times to warrant a call to Natalie Goodman, her hunter/jumper friend, who’d agreed to see him that weekend. Alas, she was still stumped by Summer. All in all, however, by the following Friday she was feeling more in control of her crazy thoughts, even if she did catch herself staring at him from time to time.

  “You driving me?” Zach asked as he pulled one of two specialized splint boots off Dasher that protected his back legs. Zach straightened, peering at her over the back of his horse.

  “I... Well, I...” She bent down and released the boots on the other side. The Velcro came free with a rip. “I suppose. If you need me to.”

  When she straightened, he was nodding at her. “We’re going to the same place. Why take two separate cars?”

  Because...because... Think, Mariah, think.

  “I was going to run some errands afterward.”

  “Great. I’ll run them with you.”

  She wasn’t going to run any errands; she just didn’t want to be alone with him. She’d been doing well keeping their kiss off her mind, but being alone with him in a tiny confined space...

  “Um, sure, if you want, but it means I’ll have to drive you back.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “No. Not really.” What else could she say? Bad idea? It was that. Every time she caught a whiff of him, she remembered what had happened at the Turf Club. As long as she didn’t smell him, she was fine. Working in a barn aisle she’d been able to do that, but not in a car.

  “That’d be great.”

  All week long it had been like this. She’d just get comfortable with him and then he’d do or say something that would remind her of what it was like to touch him. Sometimes he’d accidentally brush by her. Sometimes she’d catch him staring at her lips. Sometimes she would swear he was remembering, too, but being the gentleman that he was, he wouldn’t call her attention to the matter. It drove her crazy.

  “Will you need to change?” she asked.

  He wore his usual uniform, red shirt and blue jeans, but she would bet he smelled like sweat and the usual sawdust and sage.

  “Nope. I’m fine.” He came around to her side of the horse. “You think the exercise is working?”

  It took her a moment to follow his line of questioning—that was how discombobulated her mind was. She took a deep breath, focused on the horse.

  “I do. I think the Cool Jet is working for Dandy, too.”

  Since she’d had the machine on-site, she’d figured why not put it to good use, so she’d been treating the horse after every workout. She wouldn’t tonight
, because there was no time, but just in case, she squatted and stroked Dandy’s leg. No heat, and after a forty-five minute workout, that was good.

  “He looks great.”

  “He does. In fact, I invited my friend Natalie to come over tomorrow and have a look.” She straightened again, patted Dasher on the flank. “I think she’s excited about seeing him.”

  “You think?”

  His eyes caught on her lips. She realized she was nibbling them. “I do.”

  Stop. You don’t want this attention.

  “Okay. I think we’re done for the day. You can put him away.”

  She busied herself with stashing her machine in the tack room. The thing was on a loan to her from a friend and she lived in fear of it getting damaged; it was worth a small fortune.

  “Ready?” he asked, pausing in the doorway.

  “Yup.”

  It made her self-conscious to have him follow behind her. Thankfully, she’d parked near the entrance—next to his golf cart. It was midafternoon and cloudy outside, but Mariah’s cheeks were as hot as barbecue coals. She fiddled with her keys, admitting she was nervous.

  She was hesitant to introduce him to her friends. But it was more than that. A week of trying to pretend as if nothing had happened had taught her the exact opposite was true. Something had happened, not just when he’d kissed her but there in his office. It was as if two puzzle pieces had joined together. She might pretend otherwise, but she couldn’t deny it. Not now. Not when the very thought of being alone with him had her terrified.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to take two cars?”

  She’d blurted the words before she could stop herself and she could swear his eyes glittered.

  “Only if you don’t want to carpool.”

  What good reason could she give him for that? No matter how hard she thought on it, she could come up with nothing. “No, no. Just asking.”

  She slipped into the car before she could say or do something else that would make her feel like the gawky science geek she’d always been, the one who’d been mortified to find herself paired up with the captain of the football team. Damn it. She’d thought she’d left those days far behind.

  He’d climbed in the car far too quickly. She had barely enough time to clean off the front seat and then paste a smile on her face. Too bad it felt more like a ghastly Halloween mask.

  “Sorry about the mess.”

  He didn’t seem to notice.

  Only when she started the car did she admit that might have been a mistake, but the last thing she’d wanted was someone trying to talk her out of it. She just hoped her friends gave him a warmer reception than his board member buddies had given her.

  They drove down his long driveway in silence.

  “I guess they can’t exactly kick me out, can they?” he said finally. “Not when you’re the president.”

  No. They wouldn’t kick him out. Her friends might kick her out, however. Jillian would never let her live this down, never.

  It was a short drive into Via Del Caballo. Zach’s ranch was on the outskirts of town, about fifteen minutes away from the town center, but as they drew closer to civilization, they didn’t leave the country behind. Animals were everywhere. The city founders had kept it that way on purpose. Every road doubled as a bridal path, a wide swath of the shoulder dedicated to equestrians. One could feasibly ride from Zach’s ranch all the way to City Hall, a three-story red brick building in the middle of town. There were even restaurants off the main drag that had hitching posts out front, along with feed stores and little boutiques. On the weekend it wasn’t uncommon to see a family of horses tethered to poles.

  “Where are these meetings held, by the way?”

  Hadn’t she told him? She could have sworn she had, back when she’d assumed he’d be driving himself.

  “We’re going to my friend Jillian’s home.”

  “The animal communicator?”

  “The one and only.”

  When she glanced at him, his blue eyes had gone wide. “Wow. Not sure if I like that idea.”

  “Why not?”

  “What if my horses rat me out like that guy you were talking about at the races?”

  A smile slipped past her line of defense before she could stop it. “You have something to hide?”

  She was starting to relax, but that was always the way it was with him. She’d forget for a moment that she was wildly attracted to him, and then he’d say or do or look at her in a way that brought it all back.

  Jillian lived on the other side of town. They had to drive down Main Street, past the courthouse and past the brightly decorated storefronts that always beckoned Mariah to browse. She never did. The boutiques along the main drag catered to the wealthy landowners in the area.

  She found herself in front of Jillian’s house, the single-story bungalow that always reminded Mariah of the Mediterranean with its red tile roof and beige stucco, far too quickly. She took a deep breath, noting the number of cars parked on the street. Large meeting. Well, that wasn’t surprising given the exuberant email she’d sent out after her outing to the Turf Club touting her success and putting out the call for volunteers to help her head up the animal-welfare league. Crap.

  “This it?” Zach asked.

  She glanced at him and said, “This is it,” before pulling on the driver’s door.

  The fresh air felt good against her face. The sun was fading fast, especially behind the bank of clouds, a chill in the air causing her to shiver. She heard laughter erupt from inside, and Mariah wondered if they’d seen her emerge with Zach, although she doubted they’d find anything funny about that.

  Her cowboy boots were suddenly made of lead, she was certain of it. Why else did her feet feel as if they weighed twenty pounds?

  The door opened before she could knock, Jillian crying, “Mariah!” with a smile. Her gaze found Zach, and she drew up in surprise, her eyes darting over his face before narrowing. “And let me guess—Zach.”

  “The one and only.” He splayed his hands, his square jaw more pronounced as he smiled.

  She heard Jillian “Mmm-hmm” in a singsong voice that smacked of disapproval.

  Mariah ignored her as she stepped inside. Ten pairs of eyes turned in their direction. The faces ranged in age from early teens to late fifties, all of them slightly scandalized to note a male in their midst. Point of fact, the equine-rescue world seemed to be comprised of women. Maybe that was why she was so drawn to Zach. The brave, rare male willing to keep an open mind and meet her halfway.

  “Hey, everyone.” She tried to cover her consternation with an energetic wave.

  Vicky, the youngest of the bunch at fifteen and Jillian’s horse-crazy neighbor, smiled. When she met Mariah’s gaze, she wiggled her brows as if to say, He’s cute.

  “This is Zach.” Mariah motioned with her hands. “He’s the owner of the Triple J Quarter Horse Stables I told you about.”

  It was as if a wind blew through the room. What had been mild curiosity quickly scattered away, turning into surprise and, in some cases, outright hostility. One of the members, an older woman with gray hair and blue eyes, went so far as to cross her arms in front of her. That was Kathy, and she despised anyone connected to the racing industry, including Zach, it would seem.

  “Zach—” she turned to her guest “—these are my fellow CEASE members.”

  “Ladies.” He smiled. “Good to meet you.”

  “What’s he doing here?” Kathy said. She wore half glasses and she wasn’t afraid to peer at him over the top of them like a tax accountant chastising a cheating client.

  “I thought it’d be a good idea for him to meet you guys.”

  Mariah noticed an open seat on the opposite side of the room, next to the fireplace and a fake potted palm that she always
had to battle with. “He’s been very receptive to my suggestions about his horses over the past couple of weeks, not at all combative, and I thought, I don’t know, maybe it’d do us all some good to hear from someone in the enemy camp.”

  Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t really come up with a game plan. Too distracted by Zach this week. Lord, she was losing it.

  “What’s the saying? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?” She tried not to wince at the skepticism she saw in her friends’ faces.

  There was only one chair left, by the front door. She motioned for Zach to take it, but he in turn motioned toward Jillian, who Mariah noticed was still standing.

  “No, no,” her friend said. “Guests first.”

  She, too, crossed her arms in front of her. She looked to be both entertained and concerned.

  “Thanks.” Zach slipped into the chair, one of four wooden ones that Jillian had snagged from her kitchen near the back of the house. He leaned forward, resting his arms on his legs, and for some strange reason the light coming in through the window to his right accentuated his five-o’clock shadow and made his square jaw look even more masculine. It also highlighted his dark, dark blue eyes. She couldn’t be the only woman in the room to think, My, my, my.

  “Let me just start off by saying I know most of you have a very low opinion of guys like myself.”

  Mariah told herself to relax. The man could charm the gun off a Secret Service agent, especially when his grin was so sheepishly apologetic. Mariah found herself looking around the room to see how it affected the ladies. Two of her friends smiled back. Vicky was already a goner, but she was young and had no armor against his tanned and handsome face.

  “Mariah and I haven’t exactly seen eye to eye in the past, but I hope that’s changing. She wanted me to come here tonight so I could learn more about CEASE. I have to admit, I didn’t think you guys would let me in here. I fully expected someone to pull out a gun and point it at my head.”

  “Tempting,” Kathy said.

  Zach didn’t seem to be offended. “So tell me,” he said, smiling in Kathy’s direction, “what is it you guys do?” He glanced in Mariah’s direction. “I think Mariah has learned what it is that I do and that I’m not an evil ogre. At least, I hope that’s what she’s learned.”