by Kathy Love
He hurried her down the stairs and to his truck as if he knew she would argue. Once she was deposited onto the seat and he was inside as well with the engine running, she did try to change his mind.
“Animals tend to be very skittish around me.”
Jensen gave her a disbelieving look. “Yeah, so I’ve noticed.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you have owls and skunks hanging out in your barn while you work. Because deer come right up to your porch. And if I recall correctly, a mouse was on your kitchen counter this morning, like it was your pet.”
“That was all very, very unusual.” Okay, even he found those animals’ behaviors odd, and he didn’t have the whole story.
But horses seemed to be particularly sensitive to werewolves. She didn’t know why.
“I’ll just wait in the truck. I think that’s the best plan.”
He looked like he wanted to argue, but he only nodded.
After a few more turns, he pulled the truck up to a white farmhouse with black shutters. A man came out to meet them before Jensen could even hop out of the truck.
“Lee, is the horse worse?” Jensen asked, reaching back into the truck for the black bag.
“’Bout the same. I’m just coming out to tell you that Missy just called, and she can’t get the old station wagon started. She’s over in Hillsboro with the kids, so I’m going to have to head over there. Are you okay to tend Ginger without me?”
“Sure. Go on. I have Elizabeth with me if I need someone to help hold her.”
Lee, a man in his late thirties with salt-and-pepper hair and a lined, leathered face, nodded at her and tipped his worn cowboy hat. “I appreciate you coming over here on a Saturday.”
“Not a problem,” Jensen said. “Go on. I’ll handle the mare.”
“She’s being more than a little ornery. Be careful. I really do hate to leave.”
“It’s fine,” Jensen assured him, not seeming the least bit worried about the owner’s warning.
Lee thanked him again and then loped toward a beat-up pickup truck that seriously looked like it had no more hope of starting than the mentioned old station wagon. But the ancient vehicle did start, rumbling grumpily as Lee turned out onto the main road.
Jensen started toward the barn, and she remembered his past mention of getting kicked in the head by a horse once. Although she really didn’t believe she could be the slightest bit of help-in fact, she might just make matters worse-she had to call after him.
“Wait!”
Jensen stopped, turning to look at her.
She opened the door and jumped down from the truck. “I want to go. I don’t think I’ll be much help, but at least I can call 911 if this crazed horse injures you.”
Jensen shook his head. “Elizabeth, if the horse is really going to make you nervous, then you don’t have to go.”
“Whatever. You dragged me here. I’m going.”
Jensen waited for her to join him, and laughed at her disgruntled mutter.
As they approached the barn, Elizabeth tensed, her steps slowing. All she needed was for this poor horse to go totally wild and really hurt Jensen. Still, she felt she had to be there. Jensen shouldn’t be alone with an animal that was unpredictable.
She thought of her behavior that night that she’d started to change, the night that she still believed she could stay away from this man. He’d been as close to a feral, dangerous animal as he could get. Thank God she’d somehow controlled herself. Even now, she shivered at what could have happened if she’d totally shifted.
Jensen pushed open the large barn door and headed straight to the last stall.
“Have you been here before?” she asked, casting a wary glance at the few horses that bobbed their heads over the stall gates. They sniffed the air, their large nostrils flaring and twitching as she passed. But none reacted with fear.
“Yes. And I know that Lee puts his sick horses in the last stall. It has a little more space than some of the others.”
He stopped at the stall he mentioned, opening it slowly. Before he stepped inside, he spoke to the horse low and even. Most of his words were reassurances that he wouldn’t hurt the ailing animal, but it wasn’t the words the animal would react to, it was his tone.
He also kept his movement slow and fluid. Nothing to jar, nothing that would threaten. He set down his bag and then carefully reached for the animal’s nose. He touched it, murmuring more quiet reassurances.
Then he turned to Elizabeth. “I really think she’d be okay for me to look at alone, if you are nervous.”
“No,” she said, keeping her voice low, too. “I’m okay.” In fact, she was fascinated, watching him work. His gentleness, his calmness soothed her, too.
He left the horse and went to his bag. When he unzipped it, the horse shifted a little, reacting to the sound.
Jensen stopped and again talked quietly to the animal, although this time the horse didn’t seem to respond so readily. She pranced just a bit, her ears pulling back.
“Shh,” Jensen said, easing open his bag and pulling out two syringes. “Shh, big girl. I’m just going to take a little blood and then give you a shot of something that will make you feel better.”
The horse pranced more, and Elizabeth thought her huge brown eyes were getting a wild glint to them.
Jensen continued to talk calmly as he readied the syringes. The horse seemed to respond a little, but when Jensen rose, though he also kept that movement fluid, the horse pranced back, her nostrils flaring, a huffing noise escaping her.
Jensen didn’t back away, but he didn’t move forward, either.
“Elizabeth,” he said, not looking at her but keeping his eyes trained on the animal, “I think I might need you. But if she gets too agitated, I’ll just have to wait until Lee gets back.”
Elizabeth hesitated, afraid that she was the problem. She didn’t believe approaching the horse would really help.
Still, she could see that Jensen did need help. And if she agitated the horse more, then he’d leave with her and wait for the owner.
Carefully, she stepped into the stall, the hay under her feet making her approach noiseless. She stopped a few feet from the animal, suddenly a little scared that she might get trampled.
The horse whipped her large head in her direction, eyes definitely hinting at wildness, maybe only the kind of madness that accompanied illness, but Elizabeth still had to fight to keep from backing away.
Instead, she held out her palm to the animal. The mare’s nose flared, then twitched; then, to her utter amazement, the horse stepped forward and nuzzled her palm.
She rubbed the velvety nose, remembering how much she’d loved petting Sunny. The horse stepped closer, seeming to want more from her.
She stroked up her forehead and back down. She murmured to the animal, telling her how pretty she was. How good. All the while, the horse nuzzled her back.
“Okay. Don e.”
Elizabeth blinked and turned to gape at Jensen. He was moving back to his bag to drop the empty antibiotic syringe and blood sample into his bag.
“You already did it?” She blinked again. “She didn’t even react.”
Jensen grinned at her. “She was too busy adoring you.”
As if in agreement, the horse nuzzled her hair, the brush of her velvety nose making Elizabeth giggle.
Jensen looped his medical bag on his shoulder, then moved to pet the horse, who didn’t even acknowledge the touch. He stepped out of the stall and waited for Elizabeth.
Elizabeth whispered good-bye to the sweet horse. Then she stepped outside, too. Jensen secured the gate.
“You should have told me you’re a horse whisperer,” he said as they left the barn.
“I didn’t know I was.” She was shocked at how the horse had reacted.
“Well, I think I’m going to have to get you on payroll. You’d sure save me lots of injuries from kicks and bites.”
She was sure the horse’s rea
ction had been a fluke. Like the other animals. Although how many flukes could she have?
“Well, I just need to drop this blood sample off to the lab I use in West Pines-then I’m yours for the day.”
Elizabeth smiled at his offer, but again she wondered about the blonde in the photos. He’d sure looked like he was hers. Totally hers.
It wasn’t even fair to wonder about that woman and what had happened. After all, she’d been far from open with Jensen. She had more secrets than he could ever have. Whoever the blonde was, she hadn’t been who Brody was to her.
She was practically married. There hadn’t been any vows, there was no ring, but in many ways what she’d agreed to in mating with Brody was even more binding.
Jensen talked to her about what he thought was wrong with the horse-likely an easily treated infection. Elizabeth nodded and made the appropriate responses, but still her mind swirled around who the blonde had been.
Jensen pulled up to a medical lab that handled his animal bloodwork, too. He labeled and enveloped the sample and put it in the dropbox.
“Okay,” he said as he slid back into the truck. “What should we do now? I must admit I’m feeling a little disappointed that we didn’t get to play doctor.”
Elizabeth smiled-she knew he could play vet with her anytime.
“What’s going on?” Jensen asked, turning slightly in the seat to face her. “You have been preoccupied since we left the horse.”
She didn’t answer, afraid if she opened her mouth questions that she had no right to ask would pop out.
“Before we left the house,” he added. “On the ride to Lee’s, I thought you were just nervous. But now, I think something was bothering you. Still is.”
She shook her head. “No. It’s just… who is the girl in the picture by your bed?”
Jensen straightened as if her question physically hit him.
“I’m sorry,” she said immediately. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
But Jensen was already shaking his head. “No. I forgot that picture was there. It was just an old-girlfriend.”
Elizabeth could tell from the hesitation in his answer there was more to it. Was she the one who got away? Did he still love her? She didn’t have a right to know. She didn’t.
“I also saw the photo album that I guess she must have made.” God, what was she doing? “You look like you were pretty serious.”
Jensen didn’t respond for a moment. His eyes remained focused straight ahead as if he was studying something of great interest outside the car.
Finally he cleared his throat. “Yeah. We were pretty serious. Very serious, and she, umm, died.”
A strange mixture of pain and jealousy raced through her. He’d loved that woman and she’d died. It was horrible. Yet all she could think was that he wasn’t over her. He still loved her. And if she were alive, Elizabeth would not be in this truck with him.
She made a slight noise, appalled at her own selfishness. Her endless selfishness. She was jealous of a dead woman, yet she was the one with a mate. At least Jensen was unattached, even if it wasn’t of his own will.
God, she needed to get away. She needed to sort out all the crazy thoughts swirling in her head.
“I–I think I should maybe go home.”
She expected Jensen to argue. To tell her more about the blonde. But instead, all he did was nod and turn on the ignition.
Neither spoke as he drove toward her house. She wanted to, but now, when it seemed very necessary, her wayward mouth wouldn’t work. It seemed her body was never in control of itself.
Jensen still didn’t say anything as he pulled up to her house and shifted the truck into Park. This time he didn’t turn off the ignition, she noticed. Her uncooperative mouth might want to talk to him, but it was more than obvious he didn’t want to talk to her.
She opened her door, also noting for the first time that he didn’t jump out to open it for her. Not that she could expect that when he so obviously wanted to flee.
She slid out of the vehicle and nearly had the door shut before he said, “I’ll see you later.”
It was a feeble promise, as far as promises went, but she grasped on to it like a lifeline.
“Yes. Call me later.”
He nodded, although his face was grim. No cocky smile. No twinkle in his green eyes.
Still, she held on to his words, praying they were true. She couldn’t lose him. She couldn’t.
She smiled, knowing the gesture was as weak as his words. Then she closed the door.
She didn’t even get inside the house before he shifted the car into Reverse and backed out of her driveway, escaping her in a spray of gravel.
CHAPTER 20
Jensen pulled into his driveway and sat there. Just go back. Images of Elizabeth’s uncertain expression haunted him. The wary way she’d looked at him as she’d gotten out of his car. The way she’d seemed almost desperate when he said he’d see her later.
She was confused by his reaction. Hell, he was confused. When she’d asked about Katie, it was almost as if she’d brought another world into their relationship. A world that she wasn’t a part of, and he didn’t want her to be.
But why shouldn’t Elizabeth know about Katie? She had a right to be curious. He was curious as hell about her other men. She’d never mentioned any, but he did wonder.
He turned off the engine and got out of the truck. As the door slammed, the sound loud and jarring in the afternoon air, he felt like that sound was just punctuating a huge mistake.
He shouldn’t have taken her home. Taking her home wasn’t the problem, it was the fact that he’d left her there. Watching him go, from her porch. Confused and hurt.
And understandably so. She didn’t even know what she’d asked that was so wrong. And she hadn’t asked anything that was wrong. She’d asked a curious and totally valid question.
He was the one who couldn’t answer her.
He stepped into the house, nearly groaning that his grandfather sat at the kitchen table working on one of his many crosswords.
“Hi. Where’s Elizabeth?”
He could count on his granddad to focus right on the one thing he didn’t want to talk about.
“She went home. She was… tired.”
Granddad nodded, then wrote in another word.
“She seems like a great girl, Jen.”
Jensen nodded. Yes, she was. And perhaps one that he might have lost, just because he couldn’t deal with his own past.
“She’s very fond of you. You can see it all over her face.”
Jensen would have liked to think he wasn’t selfish and so needy that his grandfather’s words could fill him with satisfaction. But they did.
Maybe Elizabeth would forgive him for his reluctance to talk about Katie. But he could tell from the look on her face that she’d believed the reason he wouldn’t talk was because he still loved Katie.
Even a week ago, he would have agreed. He would have said that he absolutely loved Katie and wouldn’t fall for another. Now, he wasn’t so sure.
Actually, he was sure. He had fallen in love again. That was absolutely what he felt for Elizabeth. So why had his inclination been to run from her questions?
Because, you fool, you don’t want her to see what an utter failure you are. You let Katie die, for God’s sake.
How did he tell the woman he was falling for that he’d played a part in his first love’s death?
“You know, I get the feeling that Elizabeth is just a really good person.” Granddad’s comment was offhanded, and as was his way, he still answered the crossword clues as if he hadn’t even spoken.
Jensen crossed to the counter, leaning against it. Debating what he needed to do.
“I don’t think I’d let a woman like that one get away.”
Jensen stared at his grandfather, bent over his puzzle. What did his grandfather know about any of this? He didn’t know what had happened that last night with Katie.
Hell, she wouldn�
�t even have been driving if they hadn’t had that stupid fight. Such a stupid, stupid fight. And who had paid for Jensen’s stupidity? Katie. Katie had. With her life.
He didn’t say anything as he left the kitchen, hurrying up the steps to his bedroom. The room that had been his since he’d moved in with his grandparents. So much of his childhood was still apparent in this room, and in truth, he didn’t even notice it anymore.
He picked up the picture of himself and Katie as they were preparing to leave for college.
Once he’d looked at that picture every single night, wondering “what if.” What if things had turned out differently?
He had to admit that since he decided he wanted to be with Elizabeth he hadn’t given the picture a thought. Like the sports pennants. Like the old science project he’d made in ninth grade, still sitting on his bookshelf, gathering dust.
The idea that he could just forget about Katie didn’t make him feel any better. He stared at the picture, remembering everything about that day.
His grandmother’s roses were still blooming, and the sweet smell had scented the air. He and Granddad had to wrestle all their luggage around, trying to find the right combination to make it all fit like a huge-and heavy, thanks to Katie’s suitcases-3-D puzzle. But they had made it all fit. Katie had apologized for all her stuff, but she didn’t offer to leave anything behind. Not because she was greedy, but because she was sure everything she’d packed was a necessity. She was leaving West Pines for good. Or so she thought.
He remembered the tape Katie had made to listen to in the car while they drove. Songs that were important to them and to their friends. And he remembered they had laughed, a lot, giddy with the prospect of moving on to a new part of their lives.
No. He’d never forgotten anything about Katie. If anything, he’d relived his time with Katie over and over, afraid he’d forget something.
“Jensen?”
Jensen started, looking up from the photo to where his grandfather leaned on the door frame.
“I know you loved Katie. I know you still love her. And I also know that if she’d lived, you two would be together now. But she didn’t. And you can’t stop living, too.”