by Lori Foster
“That’s all Charlie talked about,” she told him. “His amazing nephew who flipped houses. You were featured in two magazines and on TV once. I know all about what you do and why you’re here. You have nothing personal invested in this farm, in these poor animals. So, are you gonna lie to my face and tell me you’re not planning on gutting my home and turning it over for a profit?”
He’d never lied to a woman and he didn’t intend to start now. “I’ll see you at six.”
Chapter Two
“Stupid, stupid.”
Allison muttered under her breath at her pathetic attempt to straighten the house before Mr. House Flipper arrived. After vacuuming, fluffing the throw pillows on the couch and lighting a baked-apple candle, she looked around the open floor-plan of the old farmhouse and sighed. She didn’t know why she wanted to make a good impression.
No, she did know why. She wanted him to see that someone lived here, someone cared for this place whether it was falling down or not.
She glanced at the pictures displayed on the mantel above the fireplace. So many of her with Charlie, of Charlie with horses, one of her riding the horse Charlie had given her when she’d come to work for him when she was only twelve. A tender age when her life could’ve gone down a number of paths, but Charlie had made sure she stayed on the one that would take her in the right direction—which was more credit than she could give her junkie father.
Biting her lip, as if that would hold the tears and anger at bay, Allison recalled how timid she’d been around the animals. When she’d realized they were hurting and abandoned just as she was, she’d known this farm was the exact place where she was needed.
Fate had landed her on the doorstep of Mane Haven, and she’d die before she let some long-lost relative fix it up, sell it off and profit from the fact that he’d turned away horses who needed medical care and love.
“What were you thinking?” she whispered to a picture of Charlie, his arm around a beautiful brown mare, taken just before she’d been adopted. “You had to have known this would happen.”
And perhaps that was what stung the most. She’d have given anything for this land, the house and the stables to be willed to her. But he’d left her possession of eleven horses, his ten-year-old truck, the trailers used to haul the animals and a lump sum he’d saved in a bank account she’d known nothing about. The amount wasn’t huge, but hopefully enough for a down payment if she ended up having to buy the house.
Unfortunately, if she was able to take out a loan, she’d also have to get a job outside the home, and work during the day when Tucker was available to stay at Mane Haven.
If she had her way, Jake would just go away and let her use the money for much-needed renovations, like the water heater, the buckled kitchen floor with chipped linoleum, the slight leak she’d recently discovered in her bedroom closet from the old roof. And that didn’t count all the cosmetic things she’d like to do to the outside of the old farmhouse.
She was certainly thankful for all she’d been left, but more for the fact Charlie had taken her in when she’d had no one else who cared whether she received her next meal. She just couldn’t believe Charlie would work twenty years building a reputable home for abused horses and then will it to a virtual stranger…family member or not.
Before she could travel too far down the path of worry and confusion, the front doorbell chimed.
And so did an idea in her head. If Jake wanted to fix up the house, then who was she to stop him? She’d actually hand him a to-do list and let him have at it. Then she’d pray the money she had in the bank would indeed cover the cost of a down payment.
Allison ran a hand through her hair, cursing herself for not pulling it up and out of her way after her shower. She crossed the living area and turned the squeaky knob on the old mahogany door, a little more eager to get this meeting started than she had been a few moments ago.
“Mr. Anderson,” she greeted. “Come on in.”
“Here’s your shirt. Thanks.”
She took the shirt he’d borrowed earlier, knowing she’d never get that image out of her head. Flannel had never looked so good.
He stepped over the worn threshold. “Call me Jake.”
But that would imply something more personal, and she intended to keep this all business. He would fix her house, she would buy it and they’d go their separate ways, living happily ever after…or however that warped fairy tale went.
She set the shirt in the basket on the staircase and gestured toward the old floral sofa in the center of the open living area. “Please, have a seat.”
Jake moved past he, and the scent he left in his path was hypnotic. He’d donned a dark gray, long-sleeved tee that did amazing things to his ripped muscles.
If he was trying to appeal to her as a woman, he was doing a good job, but she had to keep on track here. This house, the horses, they were her life. Her home. She’d never felt secure anywhere until she’d come here. She couldn’t afford to lose the only real home she’d ever known. And Jake was going to make it livable again.
“Let me start by saying that the fact Charlie left this farm to me is quite a shock.” Jake sat on the edge of the sofa, elbows resting on his knees. “I met him years ago when I was maybe five. He and my mother had a falling-out. The fault, she admitted, was her own and they never rekindled their relationship. I know Charlie was a good man, but he was still an uncle I knew very little about. I regret that now.”
Allison sat on the other end of the couch. She had no intention of interrupting Jake. Who knew what she could find out about this family? Charlie had always been so tight-lipped about his sister, Jake’s mother. But he’d always mailed Jake letters, Christmas presents, only to have everything go unanswered.
“My mother passed away three years ago,” Jake went on. “She rarely mentioned Charlie, and I know it was because she was ashamed of the way she’d shut him out of her life so long ago. She wouldn’t forgive herself. She had a tendency to ignore problems instead of facing them head-on. Confrontation certainly wasn’t her strong suit.”
Total opposite of her brother Charlie, Allison thought.
She cleared her throat, because talking about Charlie in the past tense still caused that ache to spread through her. She still expected him to burst through the back door, swiping the damp sweat from his wrinkled forehead with the old red bandanna that could always be found dangling from his back pocket. She longed to hear that robust laugh he was known for resonate through the old, two-story house. She wished she could have just one more of so many things. A smile, a pat on her shoulder, a kind word. Anything.
“Old family business is none of my concern, and there’s three sides to every story—his side, her side and the truth.” She turned to look Jake in the eye, intent on keeping her depressing thoughts from slipping into this conversation and taking control of her emotions. “And you’re not the only one in shock from the will.”
He held her gaze as an uncomfortable silence settled into the room. She didn’t want him here. Didn’t want him looking at past memories and trying to find a place where he could fit in with Charlie or this farm.
No, there was nothing here for Jake other than the repairs. Unfortunately, he didn’t agree and probably already saw dollar signs. That was all well and good, so long as he accepted her offer when all was said and done. She refused to allow this property to be sold to some hoity-toity rancher with prize-winning purebreds.
And Allison would do everything in her power to keep this house, this farm and, most important, these animals from getting into the wrong hands.
She sighed, resigned to the fact she’d have to at least make some sort of friendship with this guy. That whole “keep your enemies closer” quote kept resounding through her head. Besides, if she played her cards right, turned on charm of her own, perhaps he’d have a soft spot when it came time to sell.
On a sigh, she attempted to smooth her hair back off her face. “Listen—”
“Miss B
arrett.” Tucker, their part-time worker and the only employee they had left on the farm, other than the on-call vet, stood just inside the back door to the kitchen, off the living room. “You may want to come to the barn. I think Jezabel is in labor. She’s pacing all over the place.”
Allison ran past Jake and Tucker. Many horses on the farm had been in labor, but this particular horse was her baby. Jezabel had come to Mane Haven already pregnant and malnourished, but Allison had seen the scars on her and knew she’d been abused as well.
Just the thought, the image, made Allison sick to her stomach. But at least Jez was safe now and hopefully would birth a healthy foal. Allison had prayed for months that Jezabel wasn’t too malnourished at the start of her pregnancy to provide enough nutrients to her baby.
“Did you call Doc Warner?” she called over her shoulder, knowing Tucker would be right on her heels.
“I did,” Tuck confirmed. “He’ll be here as soon as he can. He was giving shots over at the Millers’ farm.”
Allison had been around enough births to know that this could take a while, but still, she wanted to be with Jezabel. The poor horse, like all the others, had never known love until coming to Mane Haven. In a sense, all these amazing animals were her family—especially with Charlie gone.
A shrink would so have a field day with her thought process.
Allison reached the stables and moved to the stall where Jez now lay on her side. Those large chocolate eyes staring, as if asking why this was happening. The miracle of life was a beautiful thing, but Allison hated seeing any animal in pain. And even though she’d known this moment was coming—all the signs had been there—she was scared to death of how the foal would come out. Surely Jez had been here long enough for Allison to have nursed her, and in turn the foal, to health.
“Let’s see if we can dim some of these lights,” Allison told Tucker.
“Why?” Jake asked.
Allison threw a glance over her shoulder, crouched down to Jez. “You still here?”
“I’m not leaving.”
He stood with his arms crossed over his chest as if daring her to say otherwise.
On a sigh, she turned back to the mare and stroked her mane. “We dim the lights during the birth because most horses don’t like the bright lights. They need to be relaxed as possible. She’s stopped pacing, so hopefully this process will go quick and soon we’ll have a healthy foal and a happy mommy.”
The lights dimmed, leaving only a soft glow from the back of the stall and the sunset streaming through the open stable. She couldn’t concentrate on entertaining Mr. Big City; all she cared about was her mare and the unborn foal.
“Might as well go back to your B and B.” She didn’t turn to look at Jake this time—he’d know she was talking to him. “This takes hours and will probably last well into the night. We can talk tomorrow.”
Footsteps shuffled over hay and concrete. “I’m staying,” he repeated in a low, powerful tone.
Shivers crept up her spine and she didn’t take the time to consider why. She didn’t have the energy to deal with him right now, and keeping Jezabel as comfortable as possible was her top priority.
“Um…Miss Barrett,” Tucker said. “I’ll just go out front and wait on the doc.”
Jake squatted down beside her. “What can I do?” he asked.
Get out of her personal space? Stop clouding her judgment with that intoxicating cologne that made her want to inch closer and inhale a good breath of man, and remember she was a healthy, young, single woman? Let her have her farm, her life the way she’d always wanted? Fix up her house and out of the goodness of his heart just give it back to her?
The requests were endless and utterly selfish on her part.
“Seriously, go back to your room.” She dared glance over, knowing she’d see a handsome man completely out of his element here in the dirty, smelly stable where she felt so at home. “This can be scary to see for the first time, not to mention very, very messy.”
Jake studied the woman who obviously cared so much about these animals, this farm. There was no denying Mane Haven was her life. In their two brief meetings, he could see the compassion, the determination rolling off her. But the dark circles beneath her eyes, the old, worn jeans and tattered flannel shirt she wore indicated she also put everything and everyone’s needs above her own. He had serious doubts that she could afford to purchase the house, but he really needed to find a way to make this work. He had a man who wanted first look at it, but that didn’t mean he had to sell it to him. Allison belonged here.
He’d never let his heart guide him on a business venture before, so why was he letting it overtake his plans now?
“I don’t scare easily,” he told her, holding her gaze.
She quirked a brow. “Neither do I.”
A smile formed before he could stop it. How could he not admire a woman who fought for what she wanted? And there was no way he was leaving now. Especially since this was his property. He wanted to stay and see what his uncle had left him.
And he was starting to get a better understanding of why Charlie had left him the farm. Allison needed someone. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she couldn’t do this on her own. Best keep that thought to himself.
“Let’s put our differences aside while you tell me what I can do to help,” he told her.
“There’s nothing any of us can really do,” she replied, stroking the mare’s shiny chestnut coat. “It’s always best to let the mother deliver on her own, but I want the vet here because of Jezabel’s history.”
Jake eased a little closer, still unsure how his presence would be perceived…by Allison or the mare.
“How did she come to live here?” he asked, suddenly more curious than he had been this morning.
Perhaps it was the atmosphere, perhaps it was the fact that this property was all his now, or perhaps it had something to do with digging deeper to discover the woman behind the hurting eyes and caring ways with the animals. All he knew was that he wanted to know more…about everything.
“She’s a Standardbred.”
Jake wasn’t even going to pretend he knew types of horses or anything about caring for them. But what he did want was to hear Allison talk about Jezabel. When she spoke of the animals, her eyes softened, a hint of a smile formed on her unpainted lips, and the gentle tone of her voice stirred something deep within him.
“Forgive my lack of knowledge,” he told her. “Tell me about Standardbred horses.”
He wanted to keep her distracted, keep her focused on something other than her obvious fear for the unborn foal.
“A Standardbred horse mostly does harness racing. Jez wasn’t winning, she wasn’t bringing in enough money, and she was sold. Unfortunately, she was sold to a farm that has since been shut down for neglect and cruelty to animals.”
Even though Jake didn’t know much about horses, he couldn’t imagine the mind-set of any human being neglecting a helpless animal simply because they weren’t bringing in a paycheck. What kind of sick person thought like that?
As he glanced around to the other horses in their stalls, he had a sinking feeling he wasn’t going to like any backstory he heard about the vulnerable animals. He also figured he wouldn’t like Allison’s backstory, if he ever got that out of her.
“By the time we got her, she was pregnant, malnourished, and I instantly fell in love.” Allison turned to face him once again, unshed tears shimmering in her eyes. “I fall in love with all of them, but she just touched my heart.”
Allison laughed, swiping at her damp cheeks with her palms. “And I have no idea why I just told you all of that.”
To be honest, he didn’t either, considering he’d asked about the breed of the horse, but now that he’d gotten another glimpse inside Allison Barrett, he was all the more intrigued by her own past. He didn’t need a PhD in psychology to know she had just as dark a history as these neglected horses. And that unspoken truth hit him in the gut and squeezed his h
eart more than he liked.
“I’ve been told I’m pretty easy to talk to,” he replied, reaching over to stroke the mare’s silky coat. “So what’s your story?”
Those watery eyes turned to slits. “Are you going to fix this place up and sell it?”
“Yes.”
“Then my story is irrelevant to you.”
The steel behind her words was obviously the material she used in her line of defense. How many times had she had to erect that instant wall? She didn’t want to let an outsider into her world, that much was obvious. But if he’d come here under different conditions, would she be so cold? Jake knew her bitterness stemmed from fear—most anger did—but how could she already hate him so, when none of this was technically his fault?
He certainly hadn’t wanted to take time from his remodeling of the condo in Florida to come to some small farm-town that was barely a speck on the map, just to discover a job he thought would be a cakewalk was going to be, in fact, months of work.
He should know by now, in his line of work, things were never what they seemed on the outside. There were always layers and layers of wear and tear. And in that aspect, he’d learned the houses he fixed up were much like people. If everything was loved and cared for in the proper way, it could thrive for years.
Unfortunately, his ex-wife hadn’t received that memo on life.
But that was the distant past and he was here now, and there was a two-story, old farmhouse in desperate need of some major cosmetic renovations. Unfortunately, he had no doubt the interior had more problems than just peeling wallpaper. Hopefully Allison would let him have a thorough walk-through to make notes and see for himself exactly what he was dealing with.
“Doc just pulled in,” Tucker called from the stable doors.
Allison simply nodded, not taking her eyes off the mare.
Jake didn’t want to make Allison angrier, so he stood off to the side when the vet came in. He’d wait out here as long as she did. What else did he have to do? Besides, now that he knew the horse’s history, he wanted to see just how the foal would turn out.