Second Hope

by J. B. McDonald

  Nat chuckled. She could only make out his shape, silhouetted by the light from the house. Still, she could sense when he sobered again, when he stopped joking.

  “Really, though. Is there anything I can do?” His voice was soft, blending with the night whispers. There weren’t many birds in the desert. Only coyotes hunted in the evening, and most of those went to bed with the rising stars. The small animals had already denned in for the night, lizards and snakes underground to keep warm. Except for the rustling of leaves at her back, and the occasional noise carried from the bunkhouse, everything was quiet.

  “I think,” Nat said slowly, turning every word over before she said it, “you’ve already done what you needed to do.”

  She could feel the question in the air, but he didn’t ask. Wordlessly, she leaned closer, letting her legs lower to the ground. Her lips brushed his, soft and steady. Once, then twice, before she wrapped one hand around the back of his neck, feeling him press long broad fingers between her shoulder blades to keep her near. Her tongue flicked out, retreated when it hit his, guiding him back to slide into her mouth.

  Everything he did was sure, certain, waiting only for her say so before he moved forward again. She shivered in the dark, opening to him. Her hand slid into his hair, thumb edging around the shell of his ear before sliding down across broad shoulders, heavy with muscle. The line of his sling cut across his back, interrupting the flow of sinew and strength. She pulled away, seeing the shimmer of light on his eyes as he watched her. Laughter bubbled quietly. “Your arm is problematic.”

  The darkness hid almost everything, but she felt his smile against her mouth. “It’ll be off in a few weeks. I can’t quite believe I’m saying this, but…think you can wait that long?”

  There had to be ways around that, but she didn’t mind waiting. Her chuckle caught her unexpected. Leaning her forehead against his neck, she breathed in the way he smelled, soap and leather and masculine warmth. She let the laughter wash through her, cleansing as it came.

  “Oh, sure. Laugh at my pain.” But his breath caught, too, his chest trembling under her. His good arm came up, wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her close. He pressed a kiss to her temple, gentle and tender, and murmured, “You’re beautiful.”

  She couldn’t remember the last time someone had paid her a compliment without trying to get her into bed right then—not a pick-up line at a bar, but an honest compliment. She smiled slightly, enjoying the care it was said with.

  Maybe Aaron was right. Maybe it was time to let people in.

  Chapter Eight

  Three weeks passed in quiet ease while the horses recovered and Cole’s shoulder healed. Nat hadn’t been aware that it was possible to spend time in someone’s presence and simply enjoy them for who they were, without watching what you said or waiting for a temper tantrum.

  Emma began to inch out of her hopelessness, finally finding her appetite and slowly gaining weight, ounce by ounce. Blessedly, there were no more disasters, no more emergency visits from the vet, no more rescues arriving halfway to death. The horses already there came closer to healing. Chip went home with his temperamental mistress, loading as docilely as ever into the trailer and heading away. Nat figured she’d see him again in three or four months, for more weeks-long rest and rehabilitation time.

  Nat smiled to herself, automatically checking horses as she headed to the smaller barn where Fleet was housed. There were three places Cole could generally be found, and he wasn’t with either her or Emma.

  Third time was a charm, though, and she leaned on the half door of Fleet’s stall, watching Cole brush his stallion with a curry comb. He smiled when he saw her, straightening up and walking forward.

  Nat didn’t give him a chance to come to her. She stepped inside, pushing him back with both hands on his chest. “Hi.”

  His smile turned into a grin. “Hi, yourself.”

  She kissed him, linking both arms around his neck and stretching to feel their bodies pressed together. When she pulled back, he looked a little dazed. “What are you doing tonight?”

  “Something with you?” he suggested hesitantly.

  Nat laughed. “Good answer. There’s a cowboy carnival in town. I got tickets.” Mostly, she just wanted to spend an evening with him away from the ranch and her staff.

  Cole rubbed his good hand along her back. “Cowboy carnival sounds great.”

  “And it’ll sound even better when you’ve showered.” There was no disguising the fact that they were both rank. Working with horses all day would do that.

  Cole laughed. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Nat headed out of the stall, pleased with herself and the world. She had plenty of time yet to shower and change.

  The cowboy carnival was as ridiculous as it sounded. It had very little to do with cowboys, really, and everything to do with clowns and rides and shooting games—which Cole was never any good at, even when he had two arms to aim with. Luckily, Nat didn’t seem to care about getting prizes as much as she cared about the food vendors and faux rodeos.

  “You’ve never been to a cowboy carnival, have you?” she asked him as they settled in to watch a man in pink chaps try and saddle two more people in a horse costume.

  “Is it that obvious?”

  Nat only laughed at him, her grin lighting her whole face. “It’s just funny.” He wondered if she even noticed that she’d picked up his good hand, linking their fingers together. “They take all the inane aspects of a rodeo and play them up. Without all the potential disaster of real animals involved, it becomes a pretty effective farce.”

  He was more interested in the thumb she kept sliding along his knuckles, and the way she leaned into him to talk. She’d been more and more assertive in the last three weeks, coming out of her shell as she realized that, whatever she’d experienced from men in the past, he wasn’t it. Cole considered it a personal triumph.

  In the ring before them, the man in pink chaps ran comically from the fake horse, his legs high stepping as he went. The horse gallivanted after, two sets of feet nearly tangling under the body. The crowd cheered when the “cowboy” vaulted over the fence, and the horse threw the saddle after him with arms that magically appeared and disappeared.

  Nat chuckled, and Cole glanced over. She was watching him rather than the show, looking amused at whatever she saw.

  “What?” he asked with a wary smile.

  She reached up, tipping his hat off and running her fingers through his hair. When she tugged he lowered his head, mouth meeting hers in a lingering kiss. This part was only getting better as time went on. Her lips opened, tongue sliding along his. His stomach warmed as her hands pulled him closer still, as if they could merge into one.

  Something slammed him from behind, shoving him forward into Nat and nearly overbalancing both of them. Frowning, ignoring the sudden throbbing in his shoulder, he turned to look.

  “Oops. Sorry.” A young man smirked, then tried to school his expression into innocence.

  The lie was blatantly obvious. Cole accepted it anyway in the interest of keeping peace. He’d rather enjoy his time here with Nat than scold an annoying asshole. He glanced at her, sharing a rueful smile.

  She gave him a tight one back, her gaze over his shoulder on the men behind them.

  “If you guys are gonna play suck-face, you oughta get a room,” one of them said.

  “Or charge admission!” His buddy laughed.

  Not men. They might have been old enough, but they were far from mature enough. These were boys with the smell of alcohol on their breath, and full cups of beer in their hands.

  “You want to see another show?” Cole asked Nat, trying to tune out the boys.

  She looked surprised, then relieved, and nodded. They stood together, Cole wrapping his good arm around her lean waist, and started walking.

  The drunken boys followed. Nat tensed, her muscles going rock hard, and Cole silently cursed their entourage. It was their first date off the ranch, and he didn�
��t want it spoiled by assholes—but couldn’t see how they were going to avoid that.

  “Wow, not much of a rack, but she’s got junk.”

  Nat’s hand tightened on his waist. “Keep walking.”

  He did, knowing that confronting drunken men would only result in a brawl. There were better ways to take care of things, even if throwing a punch would make him feel better—at least until he ended up beaten because he wasn’t a fighter, and had an arm in a sling. Still, anger mounted, making him as stiff as the woman at his side.

  Behind them, the catcalls continued and the men kept following. Then Cole saw what he’d been looking for, and smiled tightly. He caught the security guard’s eye, then flicked a glance back over his shoulder. It was all he had to do; the boys were overheard mid-hassle.

  Cole had to admit it was thoroughly satisfying to watch them be escorted, protesting, to a cop who pulled out a pad and began to say something about “disorderly conduct”. Cole grinned.

  Beside him, Nat started to laugh. There was a touch of relief in her tone, a sense of disaster averted. “Is that your form of anger? Get up and call the authorities?”

  He glanced at her, vacillating between stung and laughing. “What else am I going to do? I suppose I could have started a fight to defend your honor, but then we’d all get thrown out and that’s no end to a date.”

  Nat grinned, turning to face him and pulling him down for a fast, hard kiss. “You could have shouted.”

  He considered that. “I can learn to shout, if you’d rather.”

  She laughed. “Please don’t. I think I like this version of getting angry. Do you calm down again, too?”

  Pretty woman at his side, funny shows to see—calming down he could do. “I sure can. I heard something about bronco riding…?”

  Nat tugged at his hand, walking backward and raking her gaze over him suggestively. “I heard something about that, too. Something involving mechanical bulls.”

  Cole closed his eyes, feigning delight. “I would pay to see you ride a mechanical bull.”

  Nat’s laughter danced around them both. “Then I think we can work out an arrangement.”

  Two days later Nat found herself tucked under Cole’s good arm on a Friday evening away from the ranch, enjoying his company simply for his company, feeling warm and secure in a way she never thought she’d like. She’d always scoffed at the women who needed a man for protection, but now she was beginning to realize that, while she certainly didn’t need him, the added strength was a nice feeling. The world didn’t look so harsh when you had a companion at your back. Especially when that companion had proven time and again that he was nothing like what she’d experienced. While he hadn’t earned manly points among the male staff for avoiding, rather than provoking, a fight, Nat had never felt so confident in a man’s presence before.

  As his horse was getting better and better, though, she tried hard not to think about when he would leave and the world would be hers and hers alone to tackle once more. He had a ranch, a large setup made specially for reining with dozens of horses and multiple barns. He’d spoken fondly of it, of the hours he’d put in their training and breeding and becoming the best. Talking about the labor and love that had gone into creating a place that was exactly what he needed.

  It sounded beautiful. For the first time in her life, she almost wished she didn’t own this facility, that she could simply pick up and go. She couldn’t, of course. She loved her work and her ranch, and transporting everything there wasn’t an option; he didn’t have the space she needed.

  But she tried not to focus on it, instead enjoying his company while she had it. If they could, they’d work things out. And if they couldn’t…they’d deal with that then.

  A shout from the crowd around them brought her back to the present moment, and she lurched to her feet with everyone else as the fly ball arced over their aluminum grandstands. It was the first game of the season, and it was showing. Not that the Walruses ever played well. The point for them wasn’t to win, it was simply to get out and have fun. The median age for their players was forty-five, and half of them had their training in T-ball, and nothing since.

  The ball rattled down among the metal seats, to the ground below where a group of teenagers sat, too cool to really join in the fun but not having anything better to do on a Friday night.

  “Hey!” Beth bellowed, cupping her hands around her mouth as if they might not hear her. “Throw it back!”

  The oldest boy gave them a disdainful look before picking up the ball and sauntering out from under the bleachers. He had a better arm than any of the men pitching. The ball arced up and out, landing neatly in the first baseman’s glove. The kid ambled back, trailing a thin line of smoke the whole way.

  Everyone settled down, passing peanuts and microwaved popcorn gone cold on the car ride over. A couple of kids were selling candy bars for school functions, making a killing off the fathers in the crowd.

  Cole put his arm back around her shoulders, warm and secure. “When you told me we were going to see the local team play,” he said, lips against her temple, “I didn’t realize you meant this local.”

  Nat laughed, reaching around to poke him in the side. “Shut up, you. It’s fun.”

  He chuckled and squirmed away from her fingers, yanking his arm back to catch her hand. He lifted it to his lips, brushing a soft kiss across her knuckles, eyes promising more to come.

  Her skin tingled, her heartbeat speeding up. It had been like this for three weeks; every look, every glance, every touch promised more until her mind couldn’t rest for thinking about him.

  “Get a room, you two,” Shumway called, peppering them with peanuts.

  “What is it with grandstands and noisy audiences?” Cole muttered, then turned to face Shumway. “One of these days you’re gonna find a girl you like, and then I’m never going to let you live it down.” Cole let go and eased back, relaxing against the empty bench above them.

  “Not likely,” Shumway snorted back. “Besides, aren’t you leaving soon? Or did Nat not tell you what the vet said?”

  In trying to get everything done for the day, she’d almost forgotten. Shumway’s reminder that Cole would be leaving dragged at her heart, but the other news was good. She smiled, straightening to look into mildly interested whiskey-colored eyes. “The vet came by. He gave Fleet the go-ahead for some light riding, twenty minutes of turn-out in one of the big pastures. Another few weeks and he’ll be ready to get back to work.”

  His face lit up, eyes filled with excitement and relief. “That’s great! Where was I?”

  Nat laughed. “With your other lady love.”

  For a moment his face clouded, confusion warring with denial. Then he smiled, slow and a little sheepish. “Oh. Emma.”

  She nodded, amused. “If I didn’t know she had your platonic affection, I’d be jealous.”

  He chuckled, deep and resonant, one hand lifting to caress her jaw. “Well, I figured if you’re going to spend all day with other studs…”

  Her bark of laughter burst free unexpectedly. She turned into his hand, pressing a kiss into the rough skin of his palm. Her fingers traced the heavy bones of his wrist, feeling the soft hairs on his arm and the smooth skin just over his pulse point. “It’s those liquid eyes,” she murmured against him, knowing that if she looked at him she wouldn’t be able to keep a straight face. “And the way they all nuzzle as soon as I get near.”

  “I’d nuzzle, if you gave me that chance.” Cole’s voice dropped, lowering into a deeper register, a sexual purr in his throat.

  Nat shivered, muscles drawing tight at the sound of him.

  “I could nuzzle like you’ve never been nuzzled before,” he continued. There was humor in his voice, twining seductively with the purr, wrapping her up in a way no one ever had. She didn’t quite know what to do with him, where the ground was when she was with him. It was wonderful.

  His breath warmed her ear, nose drifting across the shell and into her ha
ir. The rasp of his skin against her cheek contrasted sharply with the way his heat cradled her. His mouth brushed along her jawline, not quite kissing. Her lungs caught at the first touch of his tongue, the briefest of flicks and then it was gone, the air cooling the wet mark left behind. It always amazed her how he could be so soft and gentle, and then laugh and play a moment later.

  “Is this nuzzling?” She kept her voice quiet. Prickles rose along her flesh, and lust twined in her belly.

  “Mm hm.” His mouth lapped at the lobe of her ear, sucking gently.

  “This definitely isn’t what the horses do.”

  His chuckle huffed over her skin, another sensation in a cacophony of them. “I really hope not.”

  “Okay, you guys are being really gross.” Beth heaved a sigh and gave them a massive glare. “You’re ruining the ballgame for everyone else here!”

  “I dunno,” the newly promoted hand, Greg, said dryly. “I think it’s kinda hot.”

  Cole pulled away so they could both give him an appropriate look. Cole’s look, Nat couldn’t help but notice, held a great deal more possession than scorn.

  “Your job isn’t secure enough yet to be saying things like that.” Nat’s eyebrows lifted pointedly, and Greg had the decency to look abashed.

  “You wouldn’t kick me off the ranch,” he protested, giving her his best puppy dog look. He had nothing on Cole. His eyes were too plain, his face devoid of the care she found so attractive in the reiner.

  “I wouldn’t,” she assured him. “But I’d drop you back down to mucking out stalls.” He’d been working toward the promotion to handler for long enough that it was a definite possibility.

  Greg grumbled and settled back against the bleachers, stuffing a handful of caramel corn in his mouth.

  Cole chuckled and pulled her close again, pressing a kiss into her hair. “Now that’s a viable threat,” he murmured.

  “I always make sure I can carry my warnings out.” In the field, the batter hit a grounder and took off for first base.

  “Good to know.”