Home To Blue Stallion Ranch (Men 0f The West Book 42)

by Stella Bagwell

  “I didn’t know that, Holt. And why has it taken you this long to explain?”

  His expression rueful, he shook his head. “Saying I’m sorry doesn’t come easy for me, Isabelle. And when I do apologize, it never comes out sounding right. If you want the truth, I had to work up my courage to come over here.”

  Suddenly tears were stinging the backs of her eyes and she turned her back to him and swallowed hard. Something about his words and the way he’d said them had struck her in a deep, vulnerable spot.

  She sniffed and said, “If you want the truth, I’m glad you’re here. I just—”

  “You felt like you needed to take me to task a bit,” he finished for her. “I understand. I don’t blame you.”

  Smiling now, she turned to face him. “It doesn’t matter. I forgive you. And hopefully you’ve forgiven me.”

  Surprise arched his brows. “For what?”

  Her cheeks felt as though they were flaming. “For acting like that kiss of ours was—something more than just a pleasant, physical connection.”

  His green gaze made a slow survey of her face. “Is that what you think it was? Just a physical reaction?”

  Actually, Isabelle still wasn’t sure what had happened between them or how they’d gone from a simple kiss to an explosion of passion. To her, it had been like nothing she’d ever experienced with any man. But she’d never admit such a thing to him.

  Making love to a woman was second nature to Holt. He knew exactly how to make her feel special. Even loved. Isabelle wasn’t going to be so stupid as to think Holt could ever have a serious thought about her. With him, everything was physical and that’s all she was going to allow herself to feel about him.

  “I’m positive it was,” she answered.

  He let out a long breath and Isabelle figured it was a sign of great relief.

  “I see,” he said. “Well, that’s good. Because neither of us want strings between us.”

  Foolish pain squeezed the middle of her chest, but she smiled in spite of it. “No. No strings. I believe we can enjoy each other’s company without any of those, don’t you?”

  Surprise, or something like it, flickered in his eyes and then he smiled back at her. “Absolutely.”

  There, she thought. She’d fixed everything. He believed that kiss had meant nothing more to her than a few moments of physical pleasure. Now, all she had to do was convince herself.

  * * *

  A half hour later, with the gelding treated and turned out to a small lot near the barn, Holt and Isabelle stood outside the fence observing the horse as he walked gingerly toward a hay manger.

  The rain had cleared and bright sunshine was warming the muddy ground around the ranch yard. It was turning into a beautiful day, Holt thought. Especially now that Isabelle was smiling at him again.

  She asked, “Would you like to walk to the house and have a cup of coffee? I’d offer you what was left of the blueberry pie, but I gave it to Ollie and Sol. I do have brownies, though. That’s the least I can do for your vet services.”

  He put a finger to his lips and made a shushing noise. “Don’t say that out loud. Chandler will have my hide for practicing without a license.”

  Isabelle laughed. “I’m sure,” she said drolly. “He’s probably grateful for the help.”

  “He does have too much to do,” Holt agreed. “And I do, too. As much as I’d like the coffee, I’d better head on back to town. I actually need to stop by the clinic and pick up a few things we need at the ranch.”

  She rested her back against the board fence and jammed her hands in the pockets of her brown work jacket. In dress clothes, she looked like a glamour girl, yet she’d chosen a very unglamorous job for herself. She was such a paradox and he had to admit that everything about the woman fascinated him.

  “You know, I do have a cell phone,” she said. “You could’ve called to apologize.”

  There was an impish curve to her lips that made Holt want to snatch her into his arms and kiss her. But now was hardly the time when Ollie or Sol could walk up on them at any moment.

  “I thought you said you were glad I came.”

  “I am,” she replied. “I’m just wondering why you took the time to drive all the way out here.”

  He casually rested one shoulder next to hers. “It’s always better to be face-to-face when you tell someone you’re sorry for being a jerk. But I also have something else on my mind to talk to you about.”

  Her blue eyes widened a fraction, but she didn’t bother to look at him. Instead she kept her gaze on the open land stretching away from the barn area. He wondered if that far-off look had anything to do with him or if she was simply thinking about this ranch and all that she wanted it to be.

  Blue Stallion Ranch. She hadn’t found her blue stallion yet, but she was already building her dream around him, he thought. Holt hadn’t forgotten how she’d practically begged him to sell his roan colt, Blue Midnight, to her. Nor had he forgotten the instant bond she’d made with the stallion. If it had been any colt but that one, he would have been more than happy to sell to her. But his future was wrapped around that horse. He couldn’t give him up just to make Isabelle happy.

  “What is it you wanted to talk to me about?” she asked, breaking into his thoughts. “You want me to cook for you again?”

  He laughed. “No. I wanted to invite you to take a trip with me. There’s a horse sale going on at Tucson this coming Saturday. The horses are all registered and cataloged. I thought you might enjoy it. You might even want to purchase something.”

  That turned her head in his direction and she pondered his face for long moments before she finally replied, “I would enjoy it. Does it take very long to drive down there?”

  “From Wickenburg, it takes about three hours or a little over. But it’s a nice drive and if you’ve never seen the Tucson area, it’s very pretty.”

  “I’ve not been to that part of the state before. I’d love to see it. And I suppose I could take my checkbook. Just in case I saw a horse I like. Who knows, I might even find that blue stallion I want,” she added with a clever smile.

  “Did you ever see a horse you didn’t like?” he teased.

  She laughed. “I think you’re beginning to know me, Holt.”

  And he was beginning to like her more and more, he thought. Asking her to join him on the trip to Tucson was like inviting trouble to walk right up and sock him in the jaw. But he’d never been one to take the safe route. Not even where a woman was concerned.

  “So can I plan on you going?”

  “Sure. How could I possibly refuse a day of horses and—you?”

  Holt wasn’t sure whether she was being serious or sardonic. Either way, it didn’t matter. The playful twinkle in her blue eyes was enough for him.

  “Great. The sale starts at ten so I thought we might meet at Chandler’s clinic around six and leave from there. That way we’ll have about an hour to look over the horses before the auction begins.”

  She pushed away from the fence. “I’ll be there.”

  “See you then.” Smiling, he bent and placed a swift kiss on her cheek.

  “Saturday. Six o’clock. Don’t leave without me,” she said.

  Feeling like he’d just stepped onto a cloud, Holt laughed and started the short walk to his truck. “Not a chance,” he called back to her.

  Chapter Eight

  That night, after a long shower and a plate of leftovers, Isabelle carried her phone and a cup of coffee to the couch in the living room and punched her mother’s number.

  Gabby didn’t answer and Isabelle hung up, thinking she’d probably already gone to bed for the night. But after a couple of minutes, the phone rang with her mother’s returning call.

  “Did I wake you?” Isabelle asked. “I didn’t realize it was getting so late.”

  “You
didn’t wake me. I just got back in the apartment. I was over at the Green Garden going over some things with Carl about the showing.”

  “How’s that working out? Is everything still on go?”

  “Yes! I’m really getting revved up about this, Issy. I’m thinking this might give me a giant step forward.”

  Isabelle felt a pang of guilt, but only a small one. “Well, the showing is what I’m calling about. I was planning on flying down this weekend, but I’ve had something else come up.”

  Her mother paused, then groaned. “All at once, you’ve managed to make me happy and sad. I’m thrilled that you were coming and sad that you aren’t. I hope that whatever has come up is important.”

  Isabelle had to be honest. “I don’t know about being important, but it’s something I want to do. I’m going to a horse sale down at Tucson—with a friend.”

  “A friend? Male or female?”

  Isabelle drew her legs up beneath her while wondering what her mother would think about Holt if she actually met him. That her daughter was playing with fire? She wouldn’t be wrong, Isabelle thought.

  “A man. The rancher I went to dinner with. The one who sold the mares to me. Remember?”

  “Yes. I remember. I think you said his name was Holt something or other.”

  “Hollister. They own half this county and more.”

  Gabby was slow to reply and when she did Isabelle noticed a thread of concern in her voice. “Issy, I’ve been praying you’d find someone else. But I honestly can’t say I’m getting good vibes about you seeing this man. Trevor had too much money and it sounds like this one does, too. Don’t you think you’d be happier if you found a poor ole Joe? One that would focus on you instead of padding his bank account?”

  “I don’t think Holt’s that way about making money. Yes, when it comes to his horses, he’s a workaholic. But I don’t think wealth is all that important to him. And anyway, I’m not getting serious about him, Mom. He’s just a man that I enjoy being with.”

  “That’s the worst kind. You get to enjoying it so much you never want to be without him.”

  Isabelle wasn’t going to let herself get that attached to Holt Hollister. When she did finally open her heart and allow a man to step inside, it was going to be one who was yearning for the same things that she was longing for. A home and children together. Their old age spent together.

  “That isn’t going to happen, Mom. He’s not the serious type. And after what I went through with Trevor, that’s just the kind I need right now.”

  There was another long pause from her mother and then she said, “Okay, you’re a grown woman and I’m not going to try to run your love life. I am curious about one thing, though. You said you were planning on flying down—what about the horses? Have you finally hired some ranch hands?”

  Isabelle told her all about Ollie and Sol and what a great help they’d been to her, then ended with describing the bunkroom she’d helped them construct in the barn.

  “Oh, so the men are staying on the ranch full time. That’s great, honey. I can stop worrying about you living out there alone now.”

  I won’t be worrying about you so much.

  Holt’s comment had taken Isabelle by complete surprise. It had almost made him sound like he cared about her.

  Don’t start going there, Isabelle. Holt only cares about himself and his family. And you’re not a part of the Hollister family. You never will be.

  “Isabelle? Are you still there?”

  Her mother’s question pushed away the warring voices in Isabelle’s head. “Yes, Mom. I’m here. I was just thinking—you never mentioned that you worried about me.”

  “You’ve had enough to deal with these past few months without listening to a whiny mother. But sometimes I—wish you would’ve decided to stay here with me in San Diego. It would’ve been a cinch for you to have gotten your old job back with the energy company. You made a humongous salary there. And the stables where you boarded your horses weren’t all that expensive. You had a nice life here until—”

  For some reason, Isabelle looked over at the cushion where Holt had sat next to her. Just having him here with her in front of the warm fire, listening to his voice, and watching the subtle expressions play across his face had been so nice and special. Then when he’d reached for her, she’d been shocked and thrilled. In a matter of moments, she’d wanted to take him by the hand and lead him straight to her bed.

  Shaking her head, she tried to focus on her mother’s remarks. “Until I met Trevor. Isn’t that what you were going to say?”

  “Yes, but—forget I said any of that. It’s just that I miss you.”

  “I made a foolish choice when I married Trevor. But as for me ever moving back to San Diego—that isn’t going to happen. I love my ranch, my land. Someday it’s going to be the home I always wanted.”

  “Complete with horses and children,” Gabby said, her voice tender. “That’s really all I want for you, honey, to be happy and loved by a man. God knows your father never really loved me. Not as much as he did his piano. But that’s okay. He gave me you. And that’s a priceless gift.”

  A lump of emotion was suddenly burning Isabelle’s throat. “Oh, Mom, you’re making me cry. I’m hanging up—I’ll call you later.”

  “Good night, Issy. And have a nice time with your rancher.”

  Isabelle ended the call, then left the couch and walked over to the picture window. From this angle, she could see a portion of the main barn and a light burning in the small window of Ollie and Sol’s bunkroom.

  Knowing the men were there was a comfort to her. Yet they couldn’t fill up the emptiness in the house or in her heart.

  To be happy and loved by a man, that’s what her mother wished for her. And that was all Isabelle had ever really wanted. Not money or travels or a glamorous social life. Just a loving, caring man at her side. But would she ever find that man?

  Not with Holt, she thought sadly.

  But that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy his company. And that was exactly what she intended to do.

  * * *

  At half past eleven that night, Holt was still in the foaling barn, carefully watching the newly born filly wobble to her feet and begin to nose her mother’s flank. Eventually, she found one of the warm teats and he smiled with satisfaction as the baby latched on and began to nurse hungrily.

  He was still watching the pair when Chandler’s voice suddenly broke the quietness of the barn. “I ran in to T.J. heading to the bunkhouse. He told me you were in here.”

  Holt glanced over his shoulder to see his brother entering the large stall. “What the hell are you doing down here at this hour? You should be in bed with Roslyn,” he scolded.

  Shaking his head, Chandler came to stand next to him. “I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t want my tossing to disturb Roslyn and I was a little concerned that you might need me to help with the mare. You’ve been out here at the barn too long.”

  “The mare seemed to make it okay. But from my records, I think she’s delivered a bit early. Maybe that’s a good thing, though. Look how big the foal is. Mama might have had real trouble if she’d carried it any longer.”

  Chandler carefully moved closer to the bay mare and matching filly. “The baby looks good and strong, Holt. No matter about the due dates. Mother Nature always knows best. Since I’m here anyway, do you want me to check them over? Just to make sure?”

  “I’d feel better if you would,” Holt told him.

  Chandler approached the new mother and daughter and went to work examining both. Once he was satisfied with his findings, he folded the stethoscope he’d carried with him and jammed it back into the pocket on his jacket.

  “Both of them are fit as fiddles,” he pronounced.

  Holt slapped a hand on Chandler’s broad shoulder. “Thanks, brother. Now get back to the house and go to
bed.”

  “I’m not ready for bed.”

  “Hell, it’s almost midnight. And you have a busy day tomorrow.” Holt took a second look at his brother’s taut features and decided there had to be more to his showing up here at the foaling barn at such a late hour. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

  Chandler patted the mare’s neck, then moved to the opposite side of the stall. “Nothing is wrong. Well, not exactly,” he mumbled. “Hell, I’m not sure what I’m feeling right now.”

  “There’s a crease in the middle of your forehead as a big as the Grand Canyon.” Holt gestured to the stall door. “Let’s go to my office. I think there’s some coffee still on the hot plate. You can tell me what’s on your mind.”

  Chandler nodded. “I’ll pass on your syrupy coffee, but there is something we need to talk about.”

  The two brothers left the foaling barn and entered the end of the main horse barn where Holt’s office was located. After both men were seated and Holt was nursing a cup of the strong coffee, Chandler closed his eyes and passed a hand over his forehead.

  “Man, you must really be down about something,” Holt commented as he carefully studied his brother’s miserable expression. “Are you and Roslyn having problems? Has her father been making waves?”

  “No. It’s nothing about Roslyn. And miracle of miracles, Martin seems to be getting softer as time goes by. He’s already talking about coming out for another visit this spring.”

  Holt let out a humorous snort. “Maybe you’d better prescribe yourself some horse calmer before he arrives.”

  Chandler grunted. “My father-in-law won’t give me any problems. Anyway, it’s the Hollister family that’s worrying me now. Joseph just left the house a few minutes ago.”

  Totally puzzled, Holt leaned forward. “Joe went home earlier this afternoon—after he and Blake got back from their ride. I heard Joe say they didn’t find anything. He came back over here tonight? For what?”