Rancher and Protector

by Pamela Britton

  Amber looked up quickly. “Will Mac mind that?”

  “He’s a ranch dog,” Colt explained. “Horses are part of the program.”

  Amber turned back to the little boy, clearly torn. “I don’t know. The last thing we want is a stimming episode.”

  “No.” Melissa’s brown eyes widened. “We don’t want that.”

  “Stimming?” Colt asked.

  “It’s when a child goes into a sort of meltdown,” Amber explained.

  “It’s common with autistic children.” Jarrod made a sound as if that was something Colt should know.

  Putz.

  “But the whole purpose of this initial meeting is to get him used to horses,” Amber added. “So let’s put Mac by the horse.”

  Melissa reached for him again. The gray dog moved willingly enough, but it was clear Dee didn’t like it. Colt had never been around a special needs child. Their reactions were just so physical. Dee didn’t only moan, it seemed as if every limb went into action. Every single one of his nerve endings.

  “Mmmmn,” he moaned.

  “It’s okay, Dee. We’re just moving the dog,” Amber said. “The dog. Can you say dog?”

  Melissa stopped Mac right in front of the horse. “Can you drop Flash’s head down?” she asked.

  In response, Colt pulled on the gelding’s lead. Mac eyed Flash’s big head warily. The dog was used to chasing horses, not sniffing their noses. Colt would swear Australian shepherds had a love-hate relationship with the animals. This was one of those hate moments, but to do Mac credit, he didn’t growl or show his teeth. He held still, all the while giving the horse a look that said, One wrong move, buddy, and you’re dead.

  “I don’t think your dog likes this very much,” Amber commented.

  But it was working. Dee stopped moving. They all watched as the little boy looked up.

  “Horse,” Amber said. “This is a horse, Dee. Can you say horse?”

  The horse, as Dee had earlier, had discovered Mac’s fur. It buried its muzzle in the hair behind Mac’s collar. The dog shot Flash another look, one that clearly said not a good idea.

  “Stay,” Colt ordered.

  Mac glanced over at him, then at Flash again. Flash lipped Mac’s fur.

  “What a good dog Mac is,” Melissa said, amused.

  “I know,” Amber said. “Poor Mac.”

  “Poor Mac.”

  Everyone froze.

  Amber stared at the child in disbelief. “He spoke,” she said softly.

  Melissa stood up. “Aww, Amber,” she said. “You’re crying.”

  “I am,” she admitted.

  And it shocked Colt how much he wanted to pull her into his arms, to comfort her and tell her the real reason he was at Camp Cowboy. Because as he’d watched Amber work with Dee, and as he’d observed Eric the day before, Colt was beginning to wonder if Logan was wrong.

  Or had lied to him.

  Chapter Nine

  Her elation lasted all day.

  As Amber let herself into her room that evening she was exhausted yet happy. It helped that working with the rest of the kids had gone equally well. Sure, there were a few less than stellar moments; some of the kids were like Dee, refusing to focus on the horse. But for the most part each child was intrigued by the big animals that had been led before them. Eric, the boy Amber had met the day before, was the biggest star of all. He’d taken to working with horses like a pro.

  “Amber?”

  It was Colt on the other side of the door.

  “You in there?”

  She debated whether or not to respond. All day she’d been forced to work with him. To stare at him. He was remarkably gentle with the kids.

  She loved men with a soft touch.

  She opened the door. “Hi, Colt,” she said brightly.

  Mac was at his feet. During the day, the dog had become Camp Cowboy’s unofficial mascot, much to Jarrod’s dismay. Everyone loved Colt’s dog.

  “Mac, no,” Colt said when the dog darted into her room.

  “It’s okay.” She opened the door wider. “Do you want to come in?”

  He wore his black cowboy hat. Amber wondered if he slept with the thing on. The thought caused her to blush, because she couldn’t imagine ever sleeping with him.

  Oh, yes, you could.

  “I was just wondering if you’d eaten.”

  “Yup. Had the chocolate mousse for dessert. Yum.”

  He stepped inside. She watched as he looked around, as if looking for something. As usual, she felt dwarfed by his size. She’d never met a man who made her feel so…so aware of herself and her femininity.

  “What’s up?” she asked when it became apparent he had something to say.

  “Do you have a family member that’s autistic?”

  She gasped. How did he know? “I, well, I…”

  “You do, don’t you?”

  How to answer? Would he realize Dee was her nephew? Had he already guessed? Had her emotional response to Dee’s success that day given her away? Or maybe he’d seen her check in with Nancy on how Dee was settling in.

  “Never mind,” Colt said. “I can tell by your face that you do.”

  She gulped. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Whose child is it?”

  “What do you mean?” she hedged.

  “Well, obviously it’s not your own child.”

  “What makes you say that?” she asked. “Many special needs children require full-time care. It wouldn’t be implausible for me to have a child, one in an assisted living facility somewhere.”

  “But you don’t, do you?”

  Really, what would it hurt to tell him the truth?

  Except she didn’t want him to know.

  Dee was her secret. Her sister’s son. The nephew she loved. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

  But to her surprise, Colt didn’t look disappointed by her answer. He seemed relieved. She had a moment to consider the strangeness of that reaction before he threw her another curveball.

  “You’re not at all what I expected. I thought you’d be stuck up. Arrogant.”

  “Why?”

  He seemed flummoxed by her question. “Your vocation,” he said. “I thought only stodgy academics had therapy degrees.”

  Relieved that he’d dropped his interrogation, she laughed. “So all educated therapists are stodgy, huh?”

  “I shouldn’t be in your room.”

  “Colt,” she said softly. She wasn’t laughing anymore.

  Because Colt wasn’t exactly trying to leave. In fact, he was advancing. “All day, I watched you, thought about you,” he murmured. “I can’t seem to help myself. I don’t like women who value careers over everything else.”

  “What makes you think I value a career over everything?”

  “This,” he said, splaying his hands. “The way you’ve thrown yourself into learning something new—all so you can help children. Or the child in your life who’s such an awful lot like Dee.”

  “I think you should leave now.”

  “No,” he said. “Not until I get to the bottom of this.”

  He was inches away, so close she could smell him. He didn’t wear a cologne. He didn’t need to. The man smelled like a potent combination of sweat and pine shavings, and she realized it was a scent that turned her on.

  He turned her on.

  “I want to know if this will get any better if I kiss you.”

  “Colt—”

  “So I’m—” he slowly reached for her, his eyes almost black beneath his cowboy hat “—going to kiss you.”

  “I don’t think—”

  He bent his head and she knew, just knew she’d been kidding herself. She could have thrown him out…if she’d wanted to. Trouble was, she didn’t want to. And so when his lips connected with hers, she held still. And when his hands drew her closer, she leaned toward him. And when his teeth grazed her lower lip, she sighed.

  That sigh was all the invitation he n
eeded.

  His tongue touched hers and she moaned.

  He plunged deeper. His hands touched her through her shirt, and his tongue withdrew from her mouth, only to thrust back inside again. His big, manly hands made her ache.

  He lifted the edge of her shirt from her waistband. She arched to give him better access, and when his fingers found her bare flesh, her skin acted as a conductor of electricity to various parts of her body.

  But one part in particular.

  An area that warmed and tingled and reminded her that she hadn’t had sex in…well…a long, long time.

  “Colt,” she gasped, coming up for air. “We shouldn’t.”

  “I know.” His hands pressed against her abdomen. He was trying to guide her toward her bed.

  “We’re all wrong for each other.”

  “I don’t care.”

  You know what? She didn’t, either. Then he was kissing her again and she wanted, even if only briefly, to feel that delicious desire that only a man’s touch could bring.

  “Lie down,” he ordered.

  She shook her head. They were about to make a huge mistake. Huge.

  “Fine.” He scooped her up.

  “Colt!”

  He tossed her onto the bed, and the headboard rattling against the wall. She bounced a few times, the mattress springs squeaking, but then he was on the bed with her.

  “Take off your shirt.”

  “No.”

  He drew back and lifted the hem.

  And for some reason, she found the whole thing amusing. Her first official day on the job and she had a man in her bed and coworkers on the other side of the wall.

  She should be ashamed.

  “Sit up.”

  She did.

  He tugged her shirt off so quickly she didn’t have time to think, and when his hands reached behind her and unsnapped her bra, she instinctively covered herself.

  “No, don’t.” With his big hands he clasped her upper arms and guided her back. “No,” he repeated softly. He took a moment to study her before jerking his hat from his head and tossing it onto her dresser.

  “You have beautiful breasts.”

  She didn’t. They were too big. And they sagged. They weren’t fake and perky and tight like the breasts of rodeo groupies.

  “I’m going to kiss them.”

  Her nipples hardened instantly. She wanted that, wanted his mouth on her. She really did. Her body arched in anticipation again as he leaned toward her. She could feel his hot breath against one of her breasts.

  “Hey,” someone called out in the hall. A male someone.

  The both froze. Had they been found out? If Gil had been told there were two employees in a room together…

  “Did you get the health report on the kid in number one?” the guy asked. One of the interns. Or caregivers. Clearly not talking to them. Thank God.

  “Colt,” Amber said, ready to stop this insanity. But he was looking at her, his gaze so heated she couldn’t move.

  “This is crazy.”

  “I know,” she said.

  “I don’t care.”

  “I don’t, either.”

  He kissed her again, hard. Then he was moving down, his tongue finding her nipple again. She closed her eyes and, arching, sighed, “Oh, Colt.”

  There was a thump on the other side of the wall, but it didn’t deter him and in fact seemed to heighten the sexual intensity. The suckling sounds he was making at her breast were erotic. The knowledge that someone might hear them, might figure out what they were up to… She should care about that, she really should. His hand began to move down her bare skin. His fingertips glided toward her belly button, and her stomach muscles contracted. She moaned. His mouth. That wonderful mouth…

  He shifted to her other breast, not quite distracting her from what else he was doing.

  Unhooking the snap of her jeans.

  Her hands found his shoulders. She meant to push him off, to stop him from doing what she knew he was going to do.

  Touch her. There.

  But she lacked the willpower to do more than run her palms up and down his arms, to shift a little so that when he finally did slide his hand toward her center, he had easy access to her—

  Her gasp was so loud she was sure her neighbor heard. She tried to bite her lips, but the feel of him suckling her nipple at the same time his hand stroked her soft folds…

  “Colt,” she said again. “Oh, Colt.”

  She would lose it if this kept up much longer. She could feel the tremors begin to build, those sweet tremors that she hadn’t felt in so, so long and that caused her willpower to fly out the window.

  What was wrong with this?

  His mouth began to follow the path of his hand.

  They were two consenting adults.

  His tongue circled her belly button.

  There was nothing bad about—

  She gasped.

  Her orgasm came so quickly, so unexpectedly, that she cried out in shock.

  “Shh,” he soothed.

  “Shit,” she muttered as her whole body seemed to burst outward, then contract, then burst all over again.

  “Oh, goodness,” she moaned. She wanted it to last. Wanted the feeling to go on and on and on.

  She barely heard the knock on the door.

  “Hey,” a man called. “You okay in there?”

  Amber’s body continued its erotic beat.

  “I’m fine,” she managed to gasp weakly.

  Colt nuzzled her belly.

  “Just fine,” she called again, softer this time.

  God, she was fine.

  Chapter Ten

  “Was that good?” he asked, admiring the way her hair fanned out on the pillow behind her.

  Colt watched as her eyes opened wide. “Yeah. It was good.”

  He wanted it, too. Wanted to rip open his jeans and plunge inside her. But shit, if that person hadn’t just knocked on the door, but come into the room…they’d have been fired for sure. There was a strict “no fraternizing” policy at the camp. Colt had been warned.

  “I’ve got to go,” he said, forcing himself up and off her.

  “Colt. No. Don’t leave.”

  She wouldn’t say that if she knew what he was really doing here. “I need to take Mac for a walk,” he offered by way of excuse.

  She looked disappointed.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He scooped his hat from the dresser and crammed it on his head.

  This had to stop.

  This had to stop.

  Damned if he knew of a way to control it, though.

  HE IGNORED HER the rest of the week.

  Actually, that turned out to be easy to do. There was a constant stream of children in and out of the barn, and more often than not, he didn’t even get to see Amber. Frankly, he’d begun to wonder if she’d ditched the whole horse therapy thing. But then he’d catch a glimpse of her working with one of the hippotherapists on the pommel horse. She was just taking care to have no direct contact with him.

  And then Logan called.

  And it was just damn good luck that he called when Colt was on his way to lunch. One of his female coworkers waylaid him, saying, “Um, you have a call holding for you from a prison.”

  “Oh.” Colt glanced behind him to make sure Amber wasn’t around. “What line?”

  “Three,” the woman whose name he couldn’t remember said.

  “I’ll take it up in my room.”

  Colt sprang into action, hoping against hope that Amber didn’t find out about this somehow. What if the woman talked? Why hadn’t Logan emailed him like he’d asked?

  “Logan,” he said after snatching the phone.

  “What the hell is going on?” his friend cried. “I swear to God, Colt, I can’t believe you’re doing this to me.”

  “Wait, wait, wait,” he answered. “I haven’t done anything. I just asked if your sister-in-law was really as bad as you think.”

  “And what the hell ki
nd of question is that?” Logan said. “You’re supposed to be my friend. That woman stole my child. She’s a selfish, arrogant control freak.”

  Which wasn’t the same thing as the nasty child abductor he’d described the last time they’d spoken.

  “She’s not what I expected,” Colt explained.

  “You’re kidding me. You aren’t starting to like her, are you?”

  “No,” Colt said quickly. “She’s just nothing like I expected.”

  Or you described.

  “You crapping out on me?” Logan asked, a portion of his words interrupted by a long beep, followed by the message, “You are speaking to an inmate of the California Correctional Department. Please hang up if you have reached this number in error.”

  Colt wanted to hang up.

  His stomach had congealed into a knot. This wasn’t going how he’d expected.

  Well, what did you expect?

  Did you think Logan would tell you something that would change your mind about Amber?

  Lord, Colt wished he would.

  “I just think she might have changed,” he admitted. “She’s not the heartless bitch you described.”

  “Yes, she is! She won’t let me talk to my son. She won’t even bring him by for a visit.”

  Because maybe Logan’s son couldn’t talk.

  Colt sat up suddenly. “How autistic is Rudy?”

  “What?” Logan cried. “He’s not autistic.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “What the hell makes you ask that?”

  “Just answer the question, Logan.”

  “He’s not autistic,” his friend said firmly. “Maybe he’s a little different. The doctors called it a learning disability. But that’s all.”

  He was lying. Or maybe not lying. Maybe Logan refused to accept the realities of his child’s health.

  “When was the last time you saw Rudy?”

  There was silence, but only for a moment. It was interrupted by another long beep, followed by the warning message. But when Logan answered, Colt could hear the wariness in his voice. “A year ago. And before that, maybe another year. I’ve seen him maybe four times over five years.”

  “And what happened?”

  “Nothing,” he said.

  “What happened?” Colt demanded.

  Another pause. “The kid freaked out a little bit. So what? Most kids wig out when they see a parent in prison.”