by Desiree Holt
“I’m sorry,” she muttered into the damp material as the storm of grief passed, fading into a dull emptiness she could at least breathe through.
Clyde tugged her braid, exactly the same way he’d been doing since her hair first grew past her shoulders as a little girl. “You don’t apologize to me, honey. That’s not how family works.” He nudged her head up and pinched her nose in a clean white handkerchief. “Blow,” he said, making her laugh and snort at the same time. He folded the handkerchief, wiped her eyes with a dry corner and chucked her under the chin. “Better?”
She nodded her head and explained about Starlight’s symptoms. All traces of sympathy vanished as Clyde shifted into work-mode. “We’d better get her stall cleared, I’m not sure what might be causing the swelling in her legs, but the rest sounds like colic. Better not let her eat anything until Shane can get here and take a look.”
He set the chili on a low heat and then they crossed the yard at a slightly less manic pace than her dash across it.
Tobias was way ahead of them when they entered the barn. The contents of Starlight’s stall had been swept into a neat pile in the aisle running between the stable boxes, and the hay net they used to feed her lay beside it. Still bare to the waist, the big man was running a cool sponge over the mare’s hindquarters, cleaning the sweat from her back. He’d bound the horse’s tail in a loose knot to keep it clear from the thin trail of diarrhea trickling down her legs.
“Oh, my poor girl,” Harriet whispered.
Clyde squeezed her shoulders, then stepped into the stall to check on Starlight for himself. Tobias moved back, yielding immediately to the foreman. His treatment of the older man was always respectful, something Harriet appreciated. It had become clear to them all Tobias knew as much as Clyde about working the ranch, but he deferred to his position with the easy manner of a man confident of his own worth.
He peered at Harriet with a frown, and she raised her hands to her face. Her cheeks felt puffy, and her eyes stung from the salt of her tears. It was a mystery to her how some women could cry prettily. She definitely tipped the scales at the snotty, bloated-eyed end of the spectrum. Giving her nose a surreptitious wipe with her sleeve, she crouched beside Tobias when he ducked down and started raking through the straw he’d cleared from the stall. “What are you looking for?”
“Won’t know until I find it,” he said, switching his attention from the heap of bedding to the hay net. “Might be nothing and we’ll have to wait for the vet to be sure, but she’s showing signs of ingesting something toxic.” He dropped to his knees, turning the full expanse of his bare back toward her as he sifted the hay through his fingers. The sun-browned skin stretched smoothly over the taut strength, marred here and there by silver-white scars.
“This might be the culprit.” She peered over his shoulder at the handful of dried flowers he held up for her inspection. “Hoary alyssum. They normally avoid it growing wild, but if it gets mixed in with dry feed, the horses can’t sense it.”
Harriet shuffled closer, drawn to the heat radiating off his skin. He leaned back a fraction, bringing their bodies into contact, and she closed her eyes briefly against the deep longing welling up inside her. He was an attractive man, for sure, but she had seen plenty in her time. Had shared a bed with a few. This was something more. She wanted to crawl into his lap and let him soothe her cares away. You’re just lonely, Harry. Nothing more.
“Harry?” Shane’s voice surprised her, and she might have lost her balance had Tobias not caught her arm as they both stared up into a pair of furious blue eyes. “Who the fuck is this?”
A rough sound rumbled in her ear, low and deep, almost a growl. The angry noise cut off and Tobias rose to his feet, hauling her up with him where his hand still gripped her arm. He released her only once she had her balance, and she missed the band of heat around her biceps.
Shane took a small step back, checked himself, then released the heavy leather case he was holding to cross his arms over his chest. “I dropped everything to come running when you said you needed me, and here you are getting cozy with the hired help.”
“Enough, Shane.” Clyde scowled over the half-door of the stable. “Get your ass in here and concentrate on those things that are your business.” A dull, red stain spread across Shane’s face at the foreman’s harsh words.
Before he could speak, Tobias shouldered his way past the smaller man and marched out of the barn. The muscles across his broad shoulders and down the backs of his arms stood out in stark relief. Harriet glanced lower and saw his hands were clenched into tight fists at his side. Embarrassment and anger warred within her, and she turned her attention to the man she’d known most all of her life.
She and Tobias had been doing nothing wrong. Even if her thoughts strayed a little outside the bounds of professionalism, Shane’s accusation stung her pride. The angry scowl on his face morphed into a placating smile, and he held out a hand to her. “Hey, I didn’t mean anything, I was just surprised to see you on your knees with some half-naked stranger.”
There it was again, a little dig. When did he get so snide? Shane had always liked to tease her, but he’d never suggested for a moment he believed she would behave inappropriately with a member of her staff. “That was entirely uncalled for, Shane.” She thrust the handful of dried weeds under his nose. “This is what we were doing, checking the feed. Tobias thinks he found the cause of the problem.”
Shane took the offending plants from her. “I’ll send them off for analysis, but you might give me the chance to make a proper diagnosis, or is Tobias a veterinarian as well?” He tossed the plants next to his bag and stalked into the stall to examine Starlight.
Harriet shook her head, not sure what to make of her friend’s odd behavior. She caught Clyde’s appraising glance, saw the disapproval written there. He’d never had much time for Shane, but she’d never understood why before. “Why don’t you go and check on supper?” she suggested. Clyde cast another baleful look at Shane, then stomped out of the barn, muttering to himself.
Harriet propped herself in the corner of the stall, giving Shane room to carry out his examination. His bad mood wasn’t evident in his handling of Starlight, and he checked her over with his usual care and attention. By the time he’d finished, all signs of temper had vanished. The sweet smile of thanks he gave her when she passed him a bucket and soap to wash his hands was every inch her Shane.
“I’m sorry, Harry. I was so worried for you when you called, I just lost it for a moment.” He hung his head as he passed her on his way out of the stall. From his slumped shoulders, to the worried crinkle around his eyes, everything about him spoke of his silent regret.
She sighed. She’d never been able to stay mad at him for long. “Why don’t you stay for supper?”
“I’d like that. I can apologize to the others too.” He slung a friendly arm across her shoulders, and Harriet leaned into his side as they crossed the yard. Even when he was a moody bastard, Shane was still the best friend she’d ever had.
Chapter 5
Not trusting himself to hold onto his temper, Tobias skipped supper. The bear had taken one sniff of the veterinarian and declared him an enemy. The ugly words from his mouth hadn’t endeared him to his human side, either. A hot shower did little to cool his temper, and absolutely nothing to erase the faint electric hum buzzing over his back. The tingle had started when he leaned back into Harriet’s softness, and the ghost of her touch haunted him.
He’d paced the room, flipped through every channel on the television twice, tried and cast aside a handful of books, but still he couldn’t settle. When the knock came at his door, he yanked it open, eagerly hoping to see her green eyes shining up at him. He bit back a disappointed snarl when he found Shane standing there instead. “What do you want?”
The vet narrowed his eyes and an ugly sneer twisted his full lips. “I might ask you the same thing. Don’t think I didn’t see the way you were looking at Harry. If you think you can sh
ow up and insinuate your way into her life, then you’ll be sorry. She doesn’t need you.”
Tobias resisted the urge to plant his fist square in the smaller man’s face. “What I do is none of your damn business. The only person I need to explain myself to is Harriet. Now, take yourself off my porch before I stop being nice.” He bared his teeth in a semblance of a smile, letting the bear rise just enough to send the fool backing away.
“I’m just looking out for her, she’s my best friend,” Shane stammered. Jesus Christ, he sounded like a petulant child. What kind of man talked about best friends outside of grade school?
“Harriet’s got nothing to fear from me.” He turned his back and shut the door behind him. Unlike you, you little creep.
* * *
Tobias adjusted his seat in the saddle, giving an apologetic pat on the shoulder of the big bay mare he rode. He’d grown used to the semi-erection in his pants over the past week following his close encounter with Harriet in the barn. The moment her fresh scent carried to him on the breeze, or he heard the low, musical sound of her voice across the yard, his whole body came to attention. It wasn’t just her looks; although, his mouth still watered at the glimpse of her ripe breasts he’d accidentally caught sight of when she’d bent over to pick up her dropped work-glove earlier. It was in the way she handled herself around the ranch. The way she handled the gelding between her thighs with the swift, sure movements of a born horsewoman.
Everything about her screamed strength and competence, a woman at one with herself and the land beneath her feet. She knew her business, that was for certain. The ranch might be small, but everything his eyes had touched upon was as well-maintained as the truck and trailer he’d seen when he first met her. So why can’t she keep any staff on site for more than a few weeks?
Clyde had run through a mind-boggling list of names who’d come and gone since the death of his old friend, Jarrod Mills, the past spring. Some had muttered apologies about a better offer elsewhere, others had simply disappeared into the night without a word. Then, of course, there had been the unpleasant theft incident. Whatever the reason, the old man and the young woman had performed a feat of near heroic proportions just to keep the place running.
“It should be just over the next rise,” Harriet said, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them as they made their way across to the eastern fringes of her land. She pressed her heels into the gelding’s side, and he flowed from a lazy trot to a slow canter in one fluid motion. Switching from her usual mount didn’t appear to cause her any problems. Although Starlight was well on the road to recovery, they’d decided to rest her for a few more days. Tobias didn’t need to urge his bay forward, she picked up her pace and followed her stablemate toward the top of the small hill.
“Oh, no!” Harriet practically threw her horse down the other side of the hill, sending dust flying in her wake as she raced toward the broken stretch of fence. The call from a passing neighbor hadn’t mentioned the extent of the damage. Tobias held his horse in check, taking his time to walk the length of the fallen section.
At least half a dozen posts were down, the triple strands of barbed wire between them sticking up into the air, their sharp, jagged ends twisting in all directions. Beyond the fallen fence lay a flat stretch of road. Any cattle unlucky enough to make it through the lethal hazard of the fence would have been at further risk from passing traffic.
He reined in the bay and lowered himself to the ground next to one of the posts. The remains of the splintered stump poked out of the dirt, as though the post had been sheared off near the base. The strands of wire looked deliberately cut, their ends bent to catch a passing leg. Shit. This was definitely more than a bit of bad luck.
Leading his mount to a safe distance, Tobias dropped her reins and ordered her to stay put. She nickered in his ear, swiping his cheek with her tongue before dropping her head to nibble on a sweet clump of grass. Content she would remain in place, he strode toward Harriet, who stared at the devastated patch of fence with a look of disbelief. “I don’t understand it. I just don’t understand how this happened.”
Tobias had a pretty damn good idea how it had happened. Some bastard had deliberately sabotaged the fence. What he didn’t understand was why they’d done it though. Tamping down his anger, he tugged the reins of her horse from Harriet’s unresisting fingers and led him over to stand beside the bay. He stroked the thick black mane at the gelding’s neck and murmured a few soothing words to him, until he settled calmly beside the mare.
“If we hadn’t decided to spend an extra day painting the barn, we would have opened the top gates yesterday, and the herd would have been in this section of the pasture.” Harriet wrung her hands, eyes fixed on the twisted mess.
He placed a gentle hand on her arm, turning her away from the ruined fence to face him. “Be thankful for small mercies, Harriet.” He couldn’t bring himself to call her by the masculine nickname she preferred, even though she kept asking him to. She was too feminine, too much woman.
“I didn’t think it would be this bad, I was expecting a couple of snapped wires, maybe a post down.” Her lip trembled for a second before she clamped down hard on it with her even, white teeth.
“I can fix this.” There was plenty of wood stacked behind the barn, and he’d seen a fresh roll of barbed wire sitting under a tarp inside the stockroom. He leaned closer, making sure her full attention was on him, not on the damage. “I can fix this, Harriet. Why don’t you ride up to the top pasture and check on the cattle, and I’ll head back and fill Clyde in? He can bring me back with the truck, and we’ll have this sorted in no time.”
“How did it happen, though?” He could hear the worry in her voice. Harriet was a smart woman, and it wouldn’t take long for her to realize the damage couldn’t have been accidental. She made to glance over her shoulder, but he gripped her chin and kept her eyes on his. “We need to talk about this, work out the what, and the why, and the how. But not yet. Check the cattle. I’ll fix the fence and then we can figure it out. Okay?”
She lifted her hand to his, and he thought she meant to pull his hold away from her face, but instead, she circled his wrist with her slender fingers and squeezed tight. Her eyelids closed for a long moment while she held on to him, and he battled with the urgent need to draw her close against his chest.
When her lashes fluttered open, the worry in her jade eyes had been replaced with determination. “Top pasture. I’ll radio you once I’ve checked on the herd.” Pride swelled in his chest. That’s my girl.
He linked his hands beneath her foot and gave her a boost into the saddle. She gazed down at him, and he realized too late how much of his strength he’d put into lifting her up. “My mama made me eat a lot of spinach growing up,” he said with what he hoped was a casual shrug.
Shaking her head, she turned the gelding toward her destination. “You never fail to surprise me, Tobias Langstreet.” With a nudge of her heels, the horse took off, and he watched her for a few moments before heaving himself into his own saddle.
Job number one—fix the fence. Job number two—find out who the fuck had it in for this beautiful, brave woman and point out the error of their ways. A deep growl built in his chest, and he let it rumble free. He kicked the mare and she sprang forward, racing back toward the ranch. Whoever was messing with Harriet had a nasty surprise coming.
* * *
Pausing to wipe the sweat from his brow, Tobias glanced up to find Clyde studying him. The foreman had carefully gathered the damaged barbed wire and stowed it in the back of the truck and was unspooling new lengths ready for the posts Tobias was cutting and shaping. “Is there a problem?”
Clyde shook himself and shrugged. “No problem here, son. I was just wondering what we would have done if you hadn’t been here to help us out is all.” The old man scratched his bristled cheek, drawing attention to the way the skin stretched too-tight over his bones.
Tobias frowned. “Does Harriet know you’re
sick?” He’d meant to keep the question to himself, but if he’d been able to ignore the man’s pallor, his bear couldn’t ignore the sour taint of his scent any longer. He’d grown fond of the foreman over the past weeks, and his attempts to disguise his illness grated both sides of his nature.
“Yeah, she knows. She’s been nagging me to go back and see Doc Phillips, but I don’t need him to tell me I’m dying. I’ve seen it for myself when my Bella went. Won’t be putting the same poison in my veins they did to her. Last thing Harriet needs is a sick old fool to look after.”
Tobias grunted and lifted the new fence post into position, taking his time to tamp the soil back into the hole in gradual stages. “Last thing she needs is you dying on her. Not like she has a lot of friends to fall back on. She’s got you and that Shane fella and no one else, far as I can tell.”
Clyde’s rude snort at his mention of the local veterinary, who seemed to be on Harriet’s doorstep every five minutes, settled his own impressions of the man. At least after their initial encounter, Shane had shown enough sense to steer clear of him whenever he showed up around the place.
“That Watkins boy is about as much use as tits on a fish,” Clyde said. “Shame really, cos his daddy is a fine man. I’m not sure what happened with Shane, too much spoiling from his mama, I reckon. Always been strange since he was a child, and far too interested in our Harry for my liking.”
His use of our when referring to Harriet didn’t escape Tobias. He glanced over his shoulder at Clyde. “You’re not a fan then?”
The foreman snorted again. “Nope. Thankfully, Harriet doesn’t seem interested in anything more than friendship. That little shit is too quick to point out her failings. I hate the way he talks to her, but she won’t hear a word against him. Woman like her needs a decent man. A strong man who will stand beside her and help put this place back on its feet.”