“No, you won’t, Astrid Lindberg. I’ve never taken money from you, and I won’t start now.” Val, Astrid, and Melanie had been sorority sisters. Fortunately Astrid’s wealthy background hadn’t been a barrier to their friendship, even though Melanie and Val had scraped through school with scholarships and student loans and Astrid had sailed along on her parents’ considerable money.
“You can pay me back later.”
“No.” Val shook her head. “Look, I don’t need a celebrity therapist.”
“Maybe not, but you need a therapist, and you’re making no progress toward getting one.” Astrid pulled the card out of her pocket. “It’s been months since the concert hall fire, and you’re not getting better on your own. This guy showing up right when you had a meltdown seems like it was meant to be.”
Val’s stomach churned. Until that awful night of the fire and the stampede, she’d prided herself on her self-sufficiency and emotional stability. Now she freaked at every little thing. She hated feeling so out of control these days, but the idea of allowing some stranger to probe into her vulnerability made her break out in a cold sweat. “I just need time.”
“No, you don’t.” Melanie put her arm around Val’s shoulders again, and her grip was tighter than before. Melanie’s curves made her look soft, but she had a backbone of steel. “You’ve had time, and nothing’s changed. This is a fabulous opportunity, and you’re going to see this therapist . . . even if we have to hog-tie you and haul you there ourselves.”
Astrid sighed in obvious relief. “Well said, Melanie. So here’s the deal, Val. We’re your best friends, and we can’t stand by and watch this train wreck any longer. You’ve stopped dating. You’ve turned down a promotion at the law firm. You insist on sitting at the table by the front door when we go out anywhere. Enough.”
Val looked from one determined expression to the other. The thought of doing what her friends demanded scared the shit out of her, but they were right. She was stuck in a prison of her own making. And now she’d dragged them into it. “Okay.” She swallowed. “I’ll do it.”
* * *
Nine in the morning, and already the sun felt like a branding iron on Adam Templeton’s shoulders as he walked toward the barn. On most days, heading down to see his horses calmed him, but not this morning. What the hell had he gotten himself into?
Will thought it was hysterically funny that Adam was nervous about working with Valerie Wolitzky, especially since Adam had been the one to prompt Will into providing his card outside the Golden Spurs & Stetson. You’ve dealt with battle-scarred soldiers who are a thousand times more traumatized than she is, Will had said. She’ll be a piece of cake compared to them.
Oh, yeah, she’d be a piece of cake, all right. Sweet and tempting. Of course, she could be married or seeing someone. That would help. His divorce from Elise was only fifteen months old, and Adam felt battle-scarred, himself.
He’d mentioned to Will that all the folks he’d worked with thus far had been men. Will had told him that wouldn’t always be the case. Female soldiers came home with PTSD, too. If Adam was serious about this new direction in his life, he’d need to help women as well as men.
Well, yeah, point taken. And Adam was serious about this venture. He hadn’t resigned his position as CEO of the family corporation and turned it over to his younger brother so that he could play cowboy, as Elise had termed it.
He’d never enjoyed the corporate world, but his little brother loved it. Nate was thrilled that Adam had bucked tradition and given him control of the family’s holdings. For years, Adam had unquestioningly followed the path laid out by his father and grandfather, a path Elise and her parents had approved of. None of those people could dictate to him now.
His grandfather and father had both died in their fifties of heart attacks, and Elise had married another billionaire, so even the alimony payments weren’t an issue anymore. He’d taken inventory of his situation and decided he had enough money to last several lifetimes. He had the luxury of doing what he loved and making his brother Nate happy at the same time.
After consulting with Will, a close friend since high school, Adam had returned to his first passion—horses and ranching. He’d bought the Triple Bar and enough registered quarter horses to start a breeding operation. But the breeding was more of a hobby and not Adam’s primary purpose in buying the ranch.
Equine therapy was catching on in the mental health community, and Will was a strong proponent of using animals to connect with tortured individuals. Adam loved the idea that this ranch, which he’d bought to satisfy his own yearnings, also could be a healing place for those who’d been battered by war and other calamities.
He was only about six months into it, but so far, the process had been rewarding. Apparently teaching people how to care for and interact with horses was a good companion activity to Will’s therapy sessions. Adam had watched several vets regain some peace of mind through interacting with his animals.
Intellectually he’d known his charges wouldn’t always be men, although up to now they had been. But why did the first woman have to be a scrappy female defiantly hiding her vulnerability? She’d obviously prefer to go down in flames rather than admit she needed help. Her friends must have done some serious arm-twisting to get her into Will’s office.
That type of personality never failed to trip the switch on Adam’s protective instincts. On top of that, she was a long-legged redhead with porcelain skin and green eyes, a knockout who would interest any man with a pulse. He hadn’t explained any of that to Will, but they’d been friends for a long time. He wouldn’t put it past Will to have sent her out here on purpose.
It would be just like him, and he had a legitimate right to interfere in Adam’s social life. Will had suffered through countless rants during Adam’s messy divorce from Elise. Will, a lucky cuss who’d found the right woman right off the bat, had strongly suggested that Adam should get back in the game and stop hiding. He thought Adam still had his own demons to slay, and he was probably right.
But Adam didn’t feel ready to engage in that battle just yet. So what if he was attracted to the lovely Miss Wolitzky? He’d control himself. He was here to help her bond with horses and resolve her fears, whatever they might be. Because of patient confidentiality, Will never discussed specifics with Adam.
Valerie had instructions to meet him at the barn. Will had told her that Adam was the same guy she’d run into when she’d dashed out of the bar in such a panic. According to Will, she hadn’t been particularly happy about that because the incident had embarrassed her no end.
That hardly surprised him. So maybe they were even. He was worried about having her come to his ranch, and she didn’t want to be there. But she had a problem, and Will believed the horses could help her solve it.
The barn wasn’t air-conditioned, at least not yet. Adam could easily afford to do it, but an air-conditioned barn, one with doors and windows permanently closed all summer, wasn’t part of his ranching fantasy, so he’d held off. Heating the place in winter didn’t bother him, but he’d balked at air- conditioning.
Instead he’d installed fans in the rafters, and they worked reasonably well. The hands had been through the barn already this morning, mucking stalls and spreading clean straw. Adam took a deep breath, enjoying the blended aromas of fresh straw and aged wood.
It was an older structure, but huge. He planned to preserve the ambiance and add a few things, like open-air enclosures outside most of the stalls, especially the large ones where he’d house his brood mares. He’d wanted this ranch life since he’d been five, and now he had it.
All the horses had been turned out into the pasture except Rocket Fuel, the gelding Adam had designated as the horse Valerie would work with, and a mare and her new foal. The bay mare, Saucy Lady, promised to be a valuable brood mare. Her mostly black colt, Naughty Boy, had been sold before his birth to a Dallas-
area stable.
Adam was on his way down the concrete aisle between the stalls to check on Saucy Lady and Naughty Boy when he heard a car pull up outside. He glanced at the barn clock. Nine-fifteen. If that was Valerie, she was right on time.
Retracing his steps, he grabbed a clipboard off the wall. She’d have to sign a waiver before he let her near any of his horses. A billionaire was a juicy target for lawsuits.
As he approached the open barn door, he mentally prepared himself to be friendly yet businesslike. Damn it, he’d never had this kind of anxiety when welcoming Will’s other patients. But no matter how he’d tried to reframe this meeting, it felt exactly like a date, and he was sadly out of practice for those.
He walked into the sunshine and found her standing beside her jaunty little black sports car. She looked anything but jaunty, though. She stood ramrod straight, arms at her sides, her expression an unyielding mask, her eyes hidden behind large sunglasses.
Her jeans looked new, and so did her brown Ropers. She wore a plain white T-shirt tucked in, which emphasized her narrow hips and long legs. The pristine straw cowboy hat dangling from her slender fingers had obviously never seen service.
She could have been a mannequin in a store window except for her hair. Boyishly short and tousled, it blazed in shades of deep orange and seemed to radiate energy. He couldn’t stop looking at that hair, which provided the only evidence of her inner fire, a fire he knew existed. He’d been on the receiving end when she’d erupted.
He dragged in a breath. Keeping his distance from Valerie Wolitzky was going to be a challenge.
Two
He was at least as tall as Valerie remembered, maybe an inch or two taller. Not many men made her feel petite, but this one did. Adam Templeton, quarter-horse breeder, former corporate raider, rich dude. Will hadn’t told her any of that, but once she’d learned the name of the cowboy who would be helping her become better acquainted with horses, she’d Googled him. What she hadn’t discovered on the Internet, she’d learned from her friends.
Between Astrid, who had many connections among Dallas’s wealthiest citizens, and Melanie, who was engaged to Dallas billionaire Drew Eldridge, Val had found out about Adam’s divorce and his recent decision to leave the corporate world. Now he raised horses and helped Will rehabilitate returning vets.
But in his shift to a rural lifestyle, he’d spared no expense. Driving in on a freshly paved road, she’d glimpsed an elegant two-story house on a rise overlooking a ranching operation that had to be worth millions. Sleek horses with glossy coats grazed in pastures bordered with sparkling white fences. All the numerous outbuildings had a fresh coat of tan paint.
She’d noticed two cowboys on horseback crossing one of the pastures. Another was inside one of the corrals exercising a horse with the use of a long line that allowed the horse to trot in a circle, and yet another cowhand was raking an empty corral near the barn. She hadn’t seen a single weed growing anywhere.
The owner of all that perfection stood before her looking like a good ol’ boy in his worn Stetson, faded jeans, and scuffed boots. She wasn’t fooled. Anyone who took note of his body language would recognize a man who wielded power. His broad shoulders were thrown back, his stance was slightly open, and his square jaw was firm. Intelligence gleamed in his silver eyes.
And something else flickered briefly in those eyes, something that made her jumpy nerves fizz even more—sexual interest. He doused the flame immediately, but not before she felt an unwelcome response in her own traitorous body. A girl could be forgiven for that, she supposed. The guy was, after all, gorgeous.
But she’d sworn off men for the time being. The last one she’d trusted had abandoned her to the crush of bodies trying to escape the concert hall. Intellectually she knew that not all men were cowards and not all crowds would turn into mobs, but that logical conclusion hadn’t filtered into her subconscious, which remained on red alert.
She adopted the tone she used on the phone with new clients. “Good morning, Mr. Templeton. Thank you for fitting me into your schedule.”
“Good morning, Miss Wolitzky.” A trace of humor laced his words. “Do you think we could loosen up enough to call each other by our given names?”
“I can if you can . . . Adam.” He had an honest, solid name. She didn’t know anyone else with that name, so using it shouldn’t affect her one way or the other. Yet just saying it out loud established a greater sense of intimacy, at least for her.
“Then that much is settled . . . Valerie.” The telltale flicker was back in his eyes. He extinguished it and held out the clipboard in his hand. “Before we get started, I need you to sign a waiver.”
“Naturally.” Will had told her about this, and she would have been suspicious of anyone who didn’t require it. As a lawyer, she liked to find evidence of legal clarity. Stepping forward, she took the clipboard and glanced over the standard waiver that absolved him of any responsibility for her fragile self.
She signed the waiver with the pen attached to the clipboard with a string. Considering what this guy was worth, she was surprised he didn’t have his lawyer standing by to witness it.
He gestured toward the barn. “Come on inside and I’ll introduce you to Rocket Fuel.” He stood aside to let her go in first.
She planted both feet and stayed where she was. “Rocket Fuel?” She’d heard of cowboys who delighted in putting greenhorns up on the meanest horse in the barn. She’d just signed a waiver giving him carte blanche when it came to her personal safety. She wasn’t about to climb aboard a horse named Rocket Fuel.
The corner of his mouth kicked up in a smile. “His racing days are over, I’m afraid. At one time he could launch himself from the starting gate with blinding speed, but now he just makes a good saddle horse.”
She wasn’t convinced. “Did Will happen to mention anything about my riding experience?”
“Nope. He deliberately tells me as little as possible about his patients. Figures it’s up to them to say whatever they care to. Assume I know nothing about you except your name.”
She peered at him. “I knew he wouldn’t reveal the personal things we talked about during our sessions, but the horse stuff isn’t exactly privileged information.”
“Maybe not, but he believes it’s better if I start with no preconceived ideas about what you can and can’t do, or what you will or won’t do, for that matter. He leaves it up to you to fill me in.”
“Oh.” She debated just how honest to be. God, this was hard. She hated being out of her depth in any situation. “Well . . . I’m not used to being around full-sized horses.”
“Ponies, then?”
She nodded. Hell, she might as well lay it all out. “As in pony rides, the kind where they’re hitched to spokes and you just go round and round.” She waited for him to laugh, or at least chuckle.
He did neither. Instead he gazed at her the way he had after the embarrassing incident outside the bar—with kindness. “Okay. Did you like it?”
“Not much. It was boring. I’m sure it was even more boring for the ponies.”
“No doubt. So how do you feel about getting acquainted with a full-sized horse?”
Her first impulse was to say it would be no big deal. Both of her best friends were good riders. Melanie had grown up on a small ranch and had ridden practically since birth. Astrid could ride both English and Western, and she was now a large-animal vet.
Melanie and Astrid had been extremely enthusiastic about Will’s suggestion that Val try working with horses as a way to calm her fears. Horses didn’t scare either one of them, and they’d assumed she wasn’t afraid either. She’d never contradicted that belief.
“I could probably ride one,” she said.
“You probably could,” Adam said. “But let’s start with grooming the horse. Rocket Fuel loves to be brushed. He’d be in seventh heaven if you’d spend some
time this morning doing that.”
“Okay.” She heard the relief in her voice and winced. But all the way out here she’d wondered what this horse interaction involved and whether she’d be expected to get on a thousand-pound animal she had no idea how to control and gallop off into the sunset.
Will had been vague about the process and had said that Adam tailored it to fit the individual. She’d told him she wasn’t much of a rider, but he’d assured her that wasn’t important.
Because she wasn’t stupid, she knew Will was sending her into an unfamiliar situation on purpose so that she could have a chance to move out of her comfort zone in a relatively safe environment. He obviously trusted Adam Templeton a great deal.
But could she trust Adam? She barely knew him. Will’s good opinion of him was helpful, but Will was one of his best friends and might be giving Adam more credit than he deserved.
Brushing a horse sounded innocuous enough, though, so she stepped inside the barn. Once out of the sunlight, she had to take off her shades or risk tripping over her own feet. That possibility was even greater because this was a first outing for her boots and she wasn’t used to them yet.
Propping her shades on top of her head, she accompanied Adam past a row of stalls. The scent of hay reminded her of a high school hayride and making out with her teenaged boyfriend. She’d bet Adam Templeton was a great kisser. Confident men like him usually were because they had nothing to prove.
She, however, would not be finding out about his kissing abilities. Even as she thought that, she couldn’t help sneaking a sideways look to check out his mouth. He had a full bottom lip, which was often a good beginning to a hot kiss. Not that she’d ever find out if his mouth lived up to its potential.
Wow, this was one long-ass aisle. “How come all the stalls are empty?” she asked.
“We turn the horses out in the pasture unless the weather’s lousy. It’s not good for them to stay cooped up in the barn.”
The Perfect Man Page 18