The Gift Horse

by Jami Davenport

  “Carson?”

  There was no mistaking that voice. “Uh, Dad. Hi.”

  “I just hung up from talking to your sister. She’s disturbed by two of your employees.”

  “Juan and Sam.” Carson’s stomach sank to his toes.

  “Exactly. Do I need to be concerned?”

  “No, sir, you do not. This is my project, not yours and not hers. I have the utmost confidence in both of them. They are consummate professionals.” Carson crossed his fingers that his father had never met either of them.

  A long silence ensued. “You’re not letting your emotions cloud your judgment, are you?”

  “What makes you say that?” Carson bristled and tapped a pencil on the desk.

  “Bridget alluded to something, that’s all.”

  “Well, Bridget rarely knows what she’s talking about.”

  “In this case, let’s hope she doesn’t.”

  “She doesn’t.” Carson snapped the pencil in two. Grimacing, he threw it in the trash.

  “I’m going to take your word for it—for now. I have bigger concerns.”

  “Like what?” Carson didn’t really want to hear the answer.

  “You are way over budget. Get a handle on it. Now.”

  “I’m trying. I just don’t have the lay of the land yet. Besides I—” Carson’s concentration broke when he heard a rap on his office door. He frowned as Juan slid through the door of the small barn office. What incredible timing that man had. He plastered his body up against the wall, away from the window and crouched down, watching Carson like a cat watches its prey.

  Carson raised an eyebrow. He didn’t comment on his barn manager’s strange behavior. The man was no less normal than anyone else around this place. Horse people were a strange bunch, and his sister belonged at the top of the list.

  “Dad, I need to go. I have an important appointment with the subs.”

  “Certainly. Don’t be a stranger. I have a thirty-year-old bottle of Scotch waiting for you.”

  “Uh, okay.” Carson hung up the phone and let out the breath he’d been holding. “Juan, can I help you with something?”

  “They are watching.”

  “I see.” Carson adopted a concerned expression.

  “Sam is not safe.”

  “And why is that?” Carson scratched his chin and leaned back in his chair.

  “She know the truth. She just not realize she know it.”

  “Why don’t you tell me what the truth is, so I can refresh her memory?”

  “I don’t know what the truth is. Only she know. I surveil area to find out.”

  Carson’s head hurt. Juan was one shot short of a bottle, just like the rest of this crazy group of people. “Well, I’ll make sure that she takes adequate precautions.”

  “They are dangerous. They do small things right now, but it get bigger as they get more desperate.”

  “What have they done so far?”

  “They hide things. Make saddle fall off.”

  Carson sighed. The only thing that made that saddle fall off was Sam’s lack of care for her equipment.

  Juan froze. He held a finger to his lips, cupped a hand to his ear, and listened. Either he had the hearing of a horse or he heard sounds in his head. Carson didn’t hear a damn thing. Dropping to all fours, he crawled to the door and opened it a crack. He looked one way then the other.

  “I must go now. I am surveiling suspicious person.” He slid out the door and disappeared.

  Carson pulled out the Advil and popped a couple in his mouth. This was going to be a long summer.

  * * * *

  Sam clamped her hand over her mouth in an attempt to muffle her laughter. A large swath of horse snot decorated the front of Carson’s white polo shirt for the third time this week.

  “Get that animal away from me.” He growled. “I’ve just spent the last half hour listening to Juan’s disjointed accusations and conspiracy theories and my father’s criticisms. I don’t need to deal with this crazy horse, too.”

  “So that’s why you’re so grumpy.”

  “I’m not grumpy, and you’re late. Again.”

  “I’m not late. In order to be late, you have to show up. I didn’t show up.” Sam smiled sweetly.

  Carson’s face hardened. “I mean it, Sam; we are going to work on your professional demeanor.” His blue eyes zeroed in on Dr. Matt, lounging on a beat-up lawn chair outside the barn door. “What the hell is that guy still doing here?”

  “I assume he’s waiting for a client.”

  Carson rounded on her, irritation etched on his face. “Is he coming on to you?”

  “What if he is? It’s none of your business.” Sam glanced at Dr. Matt happily chewing on a sandwich in the afternoon sun. He had been around most of the morning. Surely, he had other clients. Whatever his reason for being here, it wasn’t her. The vet never showed her anything but a cursory interest.

  “During business hours, everything is my business.” Carson continued to glare at the unsuspecting horse doctor. If it weren’t such a ludicrous thought, Sam would have considered his behavior that of a jealous man.

  “Well, rest assured, if he has the hots for someone around here, it isn’t me. Maybe it’s Burke.”

  “Is he gay?” Carson relaxed his tense position a little.

  “Carson, I’m joking. Why don’t you loosen that tight ass of yours?”

  “My ass is none of your concern.”

  “My veterinarian is none of yours.”

  “Your veterinarian? Judging from that vet bill I got last week, I think I own a large portion of his clinic.”

  Sam rolled her eyes and steered the subject down a safer road. “Carson, don’t you own a t-shirt or a pair of jeans?” The man wore cream slacks with a knife blade crease along with his now-soiled polo shirt. In contrast, Sam wore her usual grubby t-shirt and worn jeans.

  “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Carson looked down at his clothes, as if to refresh his memory.

  “You’re in a horse barn, for Pete’s sake.” Sam snorted.

  “So that means I should dress like a slob?”

  “Well, horses are dirty; you might want to dress a little more realistically. But dirt wouldn’t dare stick to you, would it?”

  “No, because when you’re around, it’s too busy clinging to you.”

  “If you’d exercise those muscles instead of that smart mouth once in a while maybe some good honest dirt would stick to you, too.” The man could be so infuriating. How did he expect her to stay spotless after riding and grooming a dozen horses?

  Instead of taking offense as she expected, Carson chuckled then leaned closer to her until he invaded her comfort zone. “There’s got to be a way to shut you up.”

  “Only if you’re man enough to try it.” Her smart mouth had taken possession of her brain once again.

  “Never, ever challenge a competitive man.” Carson’s blue eyes darkened, and she lowered her eyes, unable to meet the gaze that saw too much. A muscle in his jaw twitched. He was either furious or turned on or both. His large hands encircled her arms, preventing her escape. His fingers stroked her in light, sensual caresses. She caught a faint whiff of some pricey men’s cologne. It was heavenly and hypnotizing. Her traitorous body responded. Her throat was dry, so she cleared it. Biting the bullet, she lifted her eyes to his. Oh, Lord. Not good. An amused smile lifted one corner of his mouth. The jerk truly was toying with her. This didn’t mean anything to him. It could mean everything to her—if she let it.

  She backed up a step to break the spell, and he let her go. “Why? Why did you do that?”

  He shrugged. “I love it when you’re mad. Do you have any idea how sexy you are when your eyes flash fire like an enraged lioness?”

  Sexy? Her? Did he need glasses? Sam’s eyes narrowed, and she studied him with suspicion, looking for an ulterior motive. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  “Me? Now why would you insinuate something like that?” She
glimpsed a twinkle in his eyes.

  “You bait me into arguments for the hell of it, don’t you?”

  He held out his hands palms up. “Hey, I don’t get too many thrills right now. No multi-million dollar deals on the line, no property to seize from some poor, hapless fool, nothing to keep me occupied.”

  “Except me?”

  “Except you. And that lovesick horse of yours.”

  “Of yours.” She spoke the words more to remind herself who the mare belonged to than to clarify his words.

  “Sometimes you can own something, but that doesn’t make it yours.”

  “And sometimes you may not have a claim on something, yet it is yours.”

  Carson raised his eyebrows. “I see.”

  “Do you? Do you really? You’ve always had the money to buy anything you’ve desired.”

  “This might come as a shock to you, Sam, but the most valuable things on this earth can’t be had for a price. They have to be earned.” Something changed in his expression. Deep down inside she turned soft and gooey in response.

  She attempted to be flippant to destroy this weird mood he’d slipped into. That statement is too much for this poor country girl to handle.”

  “Is that all that’s too much for you to handle?” Carson’s voice dropped a notch. He stepped closer; even Gabbie’s nearness didn’t deter him. Sam’s heart raced and her legs liquefied. Every womanly instinct she possessed celebrated with the knowledge that he was about to kiss her. Every ounce of self-preservation went aground and refused to surface. She was on her own with a man who should be everything she wanted in a man—and everything she didn’t.

  Gabbie chose that moment to play matchmaker. She gave Sam a shove in the back with her nose. She stumbled forward, right into Carson’s arms. He pulled her close. “Remind me to give that horse extra grain tonight,” he murmured in her ear.

  “Carson, do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Sam tried to get her hands between them, but he held her tighter.

  “Of course. I’m holding you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it feels good. Aren’t you always telling me that I need to do something spontaneous?”

  “Uh huh, but this isn’t it.” She looked up at him and his mouth moved closer until he was a few inches away. His breath feathered across her lips. Damn it, she wanted more. Stupid as it was, she wanted him. Her breasts rubbed against his chest. His hips pushed against hers, pressing into her core. She was falling for a dangerous man, one who could eat her up and spit her out, showing no mercy and taking no prisoners. A man like Carson wouldn’t stick around long. They weren’t compatible. He didn’t fit her criteria—whatever those were—and she couldn’t possibility fit his.

  Sam gave a hard push, and Carson let her go. She glared at him. Even though her anger was at herself, she turned it on him. “What’s wrong with you?”

  He blinked a few times and glanced around the barn. His ice blue gaze returned to her. “I didn’t think anything was wrong with me, but obviously you do.”

  “You’re the one always preaching professionalism. Do you think this is professional behavior? We shouldn’t be doing this. We have to work together.”

  He considered her words for a moment then shook his head. “No, I guess we shouldn’t.” With an oddly sad expression, he nodded. “I need to check on the subs doing the framing.”

  “What about our meeting?”

  “Forget it.” Without another word, Carson walked away. Sam watched him go, tall and proud with his perfect posture and perfect body, at least what she’d seen of it.

  What was she going to do? Her pilot light was lit just waiting to ignite into a full-blown fire.

  Chapter 16—Father Knows Best?

  Carson walked to one of the pastures and leaned on the top rail, searching for a little peace from his conflicting emotions. This pastoral setting had become his favorite place to work through problems.

  Up until today, he’d done an acceptable job of keeping Sam at arm’s length while managing the building of the new equestrian center. Not an easy feat considering that he found a myriad of excuses to be with her, even taking her to dinner a few nights a week under the guise of discussing the building plans and her career plans. Whenever Sam rode Gabbie, he hung out nearby. He’d avoided dissecting his reasons, other than a smart businessman kept an eye on his assets. Unfortunately, he spent more time keeping an eye on her assets. A smart man would have kept her at a distance, and that wasn’t happening either.

  He was beginning to question his intelligence.

  One thing he did know, he spent entirely too much time in Sam’s company, which was dangerous. She was right. They had a professional relationship. It needed to stay that way. Unfortunately, it wasn’t, not in his mind. He was attracted to her. He couldn’t explain it, didn’t understand it, and sure as hell couldn’t have predicted it.

  Try as he might, he couldn’t stay away. She made him feel good—even arguing with her felt good and exhilarating. All of his personal and professional problems faded when he saw her smile. He felt alive in her company. Emotions he kept so tightly controlled rose to the surface whenever she was near.

  Then today, his efforts to keep an emotional distance had been destroyed in that brief moment of weakness when he’d done the spontaneous thing and held her.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  Spontaneous wasn’t in his vocabulary, at least it hadn’t been until he’d met Sam and that damn horse.

  “Hey, Car.”

  Carson stiffened and turned his head to find his brother, Brad, leaning on the railing next to him. “Hi. I didn’t see you pull in.”

  “Really?” Brad’s crooked smile betrayed his amusement. “I’m not surprised. I’ve been here a while.”

  “How long?”

  “Long enough.”

  Carson studied the horses in the pasture and considered his brother’s words. Instead of speculating, he waited for Brad to get to the point.

  “How’s it going?” Brad brimmed with pent-up energy or something else.

  Carson blew out a breath. “Bridget is constantly interfering, pissing off the subs, demanding this and that, running up expenses, and I’m already in the red.”

  “Wasn’t this place in the red before you set foot on site?”

  “Well, yeah, but it’s getting deeper and deeper. I’m starting to feel like there’s no way out of this hole.”

  “Sure, there is. You just haven’t thought of it yet.”

  “I doubt I ever will.”

  “Yep, you will. I have faith in you.”

  “Well, at least you do. Dad called earlier. I guess Bridget bitched to him about how I’m managing the construction and who knows what else.”

  “Dad can be tough, but you can handle him. And Bridget bitches about everything. Dad won’t take her seriously. He’s just humoring her.” Brad studied him closely, as if he’d never seen him before.

  “What? Quit looking at me like that.”

  “There’s something else bothering you, and it isn’t this place.”

  “And what made you come to that conclusion?”

  “You watch Sam like a man eyeing the only canteen in the Sahara Desert.”

  “I’m not sure Sam would appreciate being compared to a canteen.”

  “Quit avoiding the subject. I saw the two of you earlier in the barn aisle.”

  “Nothing happened.”

  “Yeah, well, not because of a lack of effort on your part. You’re in deep, man.”

  “I am not. I find her, uh, intriguing because she’s so different from any woman I’ve ever known.”

  “Yeah. Right.”

  Carson met his brother’s eyes. “She’s just a distraction and a project. Bridget thinks it’s more than that, but it’s not.”

  “Well, Bridget likes drama and that’d be one hell of a drama in our family.”

  Carson almost smiled as he imagined that scenario.

  “It’s been a long time s
ince I’ve seen you interested in a woman the way you’re interested in Sam.”

  “It’s just a case of opposites attract, nothing more than that. Once the novelty wears off, we’ll be wondering what attracted us in the first place.”

  “Bullshit. Carson, you’re not fooling me. You and I used to carouse together back in our high school and college days. I know you.”

  “I do not carouse.”

  “Maybe not anymore, but you sure as hell used to know how.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “I know when you’re playing and when you’re serious. I’ve only seen you serious like this one other time.”

  “And don’t remind me how that turned out. I haven’t stepped foot inside a church since.”

  “Sam is nothing like Marcia.”

  “And she’s not like me. We have nothing in common.”

  “Who are you kidding? You two are so much alike it’s a wonder you don’t kill each other.”

  “What are talking about?”

  “You’re both ambitious, driven workaholics who don’t acknowledge that there’s life after work.”

  “That’s how you see it?” Carson had to admit he’d never thought of them like that.

  “That’s not how I see it. That’s how it is.”

  * * * *

  Carson sensed a trap, but it was too late to do a thing about it. When he entered his office Bridget and his father were waiting for him.

  Damn, this wasn’t good.

  “You’re involved with her,” Bridget accused before he’d even closed the door.

  “So what if I am.”

  “Your judgment is clouded. She needs to be gone. Especially now.”

  “She’s not going anywhere.”

  “We’re not hiring her as the head trainer for the new equestrian center,” Bridget insisted.

  “I’m not thinking that far ahead.”

  “Carson, you don’t need to think that far ahead. Cedrona is mine to manage once it’s operational.”