Stealing Sarah: a Cowboy Fairytales spin-off (Triple H Brides Book 3)

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Stealing Sarah: a Cowboy Fairytales spin-off (Triple H Brides Book 3) Page 5

by Lacy Williams


  She didn't want to notice Chase. He was a good friend. One she didn't want to risk losing if she were to act on her attraction.

  She had issues. She couldn't even sleep in her own home. Since she'd been little, she'd craved security, and starting a new relationship was just asking for trouble.

  But none of her reasoning kept her from being aware of his presence at every move.

  They didn't make it back to the office by suppertime.

  They’d loaded up from a house call out past the county line and his stomach was gurgling again when her phone rang.

  He was going to crack a joke about Sarah's work habits when she rang off with the call service, but before he could even get a word out, her shoulders slumped. It was slight, but he still noticed.

  "What's wrong?" he asked quietly.

  She only shook her head, her hands gripping the wheel until her knuckles were white. “We have to take this call.”

  He nodded.

  He expected to pull off the road and drive up to a barn, but all his expectations were blown out of the water when they turned down a dirt road and viewed the scene.

  Two sections of fence were down along the road. An older model truck was in the ditch, one tire blown out and the front fender crushed. Another truck was parked over the center line behind it all.

  In the middle of the road, an injured horse lay on its side.

  It was bad. He might not have a degree, but he’d worked with horses for years and even without seeing Sarah’s tight expression, he knew. The horse wouldn’t make it.

  Darkness was falling, and Sarah left her headlights on, illuminating the scene as they got out of the truck and approached. A man who must have been the horse's owner stood near the horse, face drawn. In the ditch, two teen girls stood holding onto each other, crying quietly. The ones who’d caused the accident? At least they looked uninjured.

  One of the horse's front legs was crushed from the shoulder down. Blood flecked the foam at its mouth.

  There was nothing to be done but to put the animal down.

  And yet Sarah knelt beside it, used her stethoscope to listen to its vital signs, ran her hand along its neck in a calming manner.

  Chase stood by helplessly, holding her bag.

  The headlights sparkled on tears standing in the rancher's eyes.

  Sarah's compassion shone through as she spoke to the rancher in low tones. The man didn't walk away, let her do all the hard work. Instead, he knelt next to the horse's head as Sarah administered an injection. The rancher wiped his eyes.

  Chase had his own ball of emotion strangling his chest. He'd worked with his horse, Calypso, for seven years now. They were friends. Understood each other. If this had happened to his horse, he sure wouldn't be as composed as the rancher.

  Sarah was professional and sympathetic the entire time. He felt helpless as she packed up her things, made a call to someone who would pick up the animal.

  Chase he met her at the tailgate. "I'll drive," he said, not leaving her another option. He'd never driven her truck before. She hadn't let him and he hadn't pushed, but he could see how shaken she was.

  She gave him the keys without comment, rode silently back to the clinic, staring out the window the whole time. The tablet she usually made notes on lay abandoned on her lap.

  He'd been planning to confront her about sleeping at her office—he was worried about her—but not now. Not when she was heartsick.

  When he pulled into the lot, there were still two trucks there, even though it was after hours and the clinic was closed. All four of the vets worked long hours.

  He trailed her inside, letting her disappear into her office. He helped with some final cleanup in the kennels. Then the other vet and the secretary left, shooting him curious looks. The place went dark without them there. Only Sarah's light and the hall light remained.

  He couldn’t just leave her alone. Not knowing that she was too scared to go home.

  An hour passed while he stared at a sitcom in the break room without really watching it. His stomach grumbled again.

  He'd thought Sarah might come looking for some food but she never did, so he heated up a mishmash of leftovers from the fridge and headed to her office.

  She barely glanced his way, head tilted low on her elbow, face turned toward the open file folder on her desk, though he had the sense she wasn't reading it. Her shoulders were low, her posture conveying brokenness. She'd known he was waiting on her.

  "Can we please not do this right now?"

  He hated the defeated tone in her voice.

  "I don't know about you, but I get grumpy when my blood sugar falls too low."

  Her head came up, and she registered the floppy paper plates he held, one in each hand.

  He jerked his chin toward the couch. "Take a break and sit with me."

  She hesitated. Finally, she stood and headed his way. Maybe the scent of microwave pizza did all the convincing.

  They settled in, her shoulder bumping his as she tucked one leg beneath her. She'd changed out of the blood-stained jeans she'd worn earlier.

  "Extra saucy or big air bubble?" He offered her the choice of plates. The two slices of pizza that had been left in the box were obviously the losers of the pie.

  "Bubble, of course." One corner of her mouth ticked up, but as she bit into the pizza and chewed, her gaze went unfocused, and the miniature smile disappeared.

  "Don't forget your veggies," he said.

  She looked down at the plate, where a glob of coleslaw slowly spread and someone's leftover green bean casserole congealed. He won another of those short-lived smiles.

  He didn't know how to take away the pain of what she'd had to do earlier. He doubted he could, but at least he could sit here. Offer her his shoulder, if she needed it.

  "I think that casserole has been in the fridge since last Christmas," she said softly.

  If she wanted to joke around, he'd joke around. He lifted his plate to sniff at the portion he'd put there. "No way. It's supposed to smell like that."

  She tilted a glance his way, long enough for him to see the shadows still chasing each other behind her eyes.

  "You know Jessie's like the fridge police. She caught me once stealing a Coke and gave me the what for."

  "Then it's a good thing she's still on maternity leave and I'll be long gone before she has a chance to kick my butt for stealing this..." He raised his plate. Crinkled his nose when he couldn't quite identify the other blob. "...some kind of casserole. You don't think I'll get sick from this, do you?"

  Chapter 5

  The sky outside Sarah's window was dark, and all but the questionable pumpkin pie had disappeared from their plates. She'd never had such a weird dinner.

  She needed to get rid of the cowboy. After losing the gelding this afternoon… There'd been nothing she could do. She'd easily seen that before she'd even gotten out of her truck. And now she had no emotional energy left to argue with him.

  The silence as they'd scarfed down their stolen food had been companionable, and she hated to break it.

  "I'm not going home." She kept her eyes on her plate as she said the words, idly scraping her fork through the nasty pie and drawing designs in it.

  She was so tired...exhausted to the bone, but she didn't want to close her eyes, because when she did, she'd either think about the gelding's lifeless body or those moments when her attacker’s hand had closed over her face.

  He shrugged, the movement breaking the runaway train of her thoughts. Somehow they'd shifted closer to each other as they'd eaten, and the movement nudged her shoulder.

  "I didn't think you would," he said quietly.

  Not angry, like James would've been that she wasn't bending to his will. He'd always had a need to be right. Would've told her she was being ridiculous, ordered her outside and into his car. He'd never have shown the patience and friendship that Chase was showing right now.

  What had she ever seen in that jerk anyway?

  The
cowboy beside her made no move to get up. His steady presence reminded her again that he wasn’t just an assistant, he was a man. A handsome man who she was attracted to. Best to get him out of here now.

  She pushed herself up until she stood, threw the used paper plate in the trash can near her desk, and turned to face him.

  He hadn't moved. He sat with relaxed grace, his boots on the floor in front of him, feet crossed at the ankles as if he hadn't a care in the world. That made one of them.

  "So...I'll see you in the morning?"

  Her gaze skittered away under the intensity of his stare. "I didn't think you'd go home tonight," he said quietly, evenly, "but I didn't say I would either."

  That was completely unnecessary, and a ball of panic lodged itself in her throat. Good thing, too. Otherwise she'd tell him off.

  What if she had the nightmare again? What if she cried out in her sleep?

  He stood, left his plate on the couch as he came to her. He didn't touch her, but she had to tip her head up to look into his face.

  "Sarah, if you're scared enough that you can't sleep in your own bed, how could you think I'd let you stay here alone?"

  "I don't want—" that. But she couldn't quite say the word.

  She did want somebody to care enough to notice. She wanted somebody to be a shoulder to lean on. Someone to depend on.

  She'd just never expected it to be this cowboy.

  Her eyes filled with tears, and his hands cupped her elbows. He held her gently, still inches between their bodies. He didn't tug her closer, didn't let her escape. He was just there.

  It was she who leaned in, who closed the distance between them. She buried her face against his broad chest as the tears came full force.

  She rested her hands against his chest, and his arms curled around her back.

  It should've been awkward. She was only a month out from her breakup with James, the man she'd thought she would marry. Had that even been a real relationship?

  This should've been awkward, but it wasn't.

  He let her cry, and she didn't worry about him judging her or knowing her secret. All her pent-up emotions let loose like a tsunami.

  When she was spent, he kept on holding her. Maybe he was just being nice because of the way she clung to his shoulders, but for the moment, she didn't care. He was here, and he was Chase, and she needed him.

  It was okay to need someone, wasn't it?

  Her thoughts whirled again, exhaustion loosing the emotions she usually kept so well hidden.

  Chase set her back slightly. He dug in his back pocket and came up with a handkerchief, which he offered.

  She mopped up her face. That was...really old-fashioned. And kind of romantic.

  She didn't want to think about Chase and romance.

  She clutched the thin, white cloth between her fingers and let her eyes sweep toward the floor. "Thanks for...that."

  He was still close, and when he raised his hand, her chin followed the motion up. He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "Get some rest."

  But then something seemed to stall him out. Instead of his hand falling away, his thumb brushed her cheek. And then he was leaning closer—or maybe she was—and his lips were brushing hers.

  Once, twice... unconsciously, she made a little noise in her throat, and maybe he took that for permission. Or maybe she scooted closer. Suddenly, instead of a soft brush of lips, they were sharing a full-on lip lock.

  Somewhere along the way, her arms had wrapped around his neck. One of his hands was buried in her hair.

  His nose pressed against her cheek and their chins brushed and he tasted delicious—

  And then it was over. He stepped away, his arms falling away from her, one hand coming up to rub the back of his head.

  She felt off-balance and stunned and gripped her desk with one hand to keep herself upright.

  "Night," he said. He reached up with that same hand, as if he would tip his hat, but he wasn't wearing a hat and his hand fell away awkwardly.

  At least she wasn't the only one discombobulated.

  He disappeared out into the hall, his boots clicking against the tile floor.

  But then his footsteps stopped. "I'm not leaving," he called back.

  She didn't know what to feel now.

  "Night," she whispered to her empty office.

  He shouldn't have done that.

  Chase reclined on the uncomfortable plaid loveseat in the clinic's breakroom. This sofa wasn't made for stretching out, and so he had both feet planted on the floor, reclining as best he could.

  He knew two of the other vets had couches in their offices, but it felt like intruding to go in there and sleep without an invitation.

  And he definitely couldn't go back in to Sarah's office.

  Not with his heart still pounding out of his chest.

  Something had changed between them tonight. He'd seen a vulnerable side of Sarah that she didn’t show anyone else.

  In all the years he'd known her, he’d never seen her cry.

  He knew that traumatic events caused people to act in a way they normally wouldn't. No doubt that's why she hadn't made a more rational decision about her sleeping quarters, like staying at her sister's place.

  She might be making excuses to herself, like she didn't want to inconvenience Kayla, but sleeping in her office for all these weeks?

  And how had no one else noticed? Jessie was nosy enough that she'd normally be all over this. Except she'd probably been caught up in last-minute things before her baby was born and then she'd been on maternity leave. Sarah hid it well. Heck, he hadn't even noticed it for weeks, and he'd been with her every day.

  And now he was thinking himself in circles instead of focusing on the huge elephant in the room.

  He'd kissed Sarah.

  And it wasn't some little peck, either. He'd really laid one on her.

  He hadn't intended to kiss her, but the tear tracks still wet on her cheeks and the vulnerability shining in her eyes... he hadn't been able to help himself.

  Maybe she'd still had some grief to burn, because she'd kissed him back, and...wow.

  Hero had been an idiot to give her up.

  Thinking about the other man finally stilled his whirring thoughts. Sarah was getting over a bad breakup. She'd thought she was going to marry Hero.

  She was vulnerable, she'd just been through a serious of traumatic events.

  He couldn't take advantage of that. Sarah needed a friend. Subtract his personal inadequacies from the equation completely.

  He couldn't act on his feelings.

  The question was, could he be that friend without his feelings getting in the way?

  Chapter 6

  Things weren't as awkward as Sarah expected the next morning. Chase had disappeared sometime in the early hours before the other partners arrived at the practice.

  She knew he'd stayed all night, because at one point she'd woken to use the restroom and gotten a glimpse of him stretched out on the tiny breakroom sofa, limp and snoring softly.

  She didn't get why he'd done that for her. Sleeping here, so she'd feel the extra layer of security. The office had an alarm, and not being at home usually helped her sleep better, but her nights had still been long and difficult. Knowing he was here had made her feel safe.

  He'd greeted her with a friendly smile when he'd arrived bright and early. And made no mention of the kiss when they'd been alone.

  She didn't know what to make of it.

  There'd been another call from Amanda about her pregnant ewe, and since Sarah had the morning open, she headed that way. She'd left a message for the rancher after Amanda's initial call, but she hadn't heard from the man since.

  Amanda was at the barn, which threw up a red flag for Sarah. It was a school day.

  "Morning," Chase greeted her in his easy drawl as they spilled from the pickup.

  "You're not in school?" Sarah asked.

  The girl's expression was closed off. "My mom said I could stay h
ome—that she'd take me to town after you'd visited."

  "Nice," Chase said to the girl. In a lower voice as he met Sarah at the back of the truck, he said, "My mom never would've let me."

  "None of my foster moms would’ve either."

  The group mother had been run so ragged by the mix of twelve kids, ten and up, that she'd rarely let them have any extra-curricular activities. It just hadn't been feasible. Sarah would've loved to raise a sheep in 4H. Kayla snuck pets into the home until she'd get found out.

  Things had been pretty bad back then, but look at them now.

  The ewe was in its pen again, and again she made it difficult to get close enough to examine her. Her vitals were fine.

  "Has she been eating better?" Sarah asked, looking up at the girl even as she palpitated the ewe's belly. The twin lambs seemed to be the right size.

  "She hasn't been off her feed again, but she's been real lazy."

  Sarah wiped her hands on the thighs of her jeans. "Everything seems to be in working order."

  But storm clouds remained on the girl's brow, in her scrunched eyebrows. "Can you tell me again what happens if she abandons one of the twins?"

  Sarah began packing up her instruments. "It's a big if. She might accept both of them."

  Amanda lowered her chin. "I was reading online..."

  Sarah stopped her there. "You can't trust everything online. A lot of it is junk. But you can trust me."

  She exited the pen, Chase right behind her. "If mama abandons one of the sheep, we'll help you take care of it.”

  Some of the anxiety cleared from Amanda's face, but a tiny bit remained.

  "Don't worry," Chase said. "Your dad'll help too."

  Amanda's face clouded over again, and Sarah shot the man beside her a look.

 

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