Wanted: Sharpshooter

by Florence Witkop

CHAPTER 21

  Max brought Carlos home from the hospital the next day while I attended to the horses. I made sure they were fed and watered and let outside for a bit of fresh air, but they refused to stay out. The smell of the cougar still lingered though the body was gone and the grassy area was back to normal.

  I didn't try to ride. I had no will to do so and, even if I had, I wouldn't have been able to get any of them past the area that had been so dangerous. Not yet, not until the wind dissipated the last whiff of cougar. So they were all soon back in their stalls and glad to be there.

  After closing the last stall door on the last horse, I dropped to the floor where I just sat and stared straight ahead, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, feeling nothing. Telling myself over and over again that it was finished, done, and all that remained was for me to get back to the business of training horses for endurance rides.

  Still I sat, unmoving, until the sound of the truck returning told me Max was back with Carlos. That got me moving because I wanted to welcome Carlos home.

  Carlos hopped from the truck and, swearing steadily at his crutches and the world in general, hobbled over to me. "I hear you got it."

  "We did."

  "Max said you shot it." I nodded. "Thought you couldn't shoot."

  "I was lucky."

  Max's eyes widened. "What's that? You can't shoot? That was luck?"

  My face reddened. "Normally I can't hit the broad side of a barn."

  His face took on a strangled look. "You mean I could have died?"

  I cleared my throat because it was suddenly scratchy. "I'm afraid so." He leaned against the truck, silent, his jaw slack for the first time since we'd met. He looked so thoroughly shook up that I had to say something. "But I got lucky so it ended well."

  Carlos added, "It wasn't completely luck. She had a shotgun, not the thirty-ought-six. She can use a shotgun. Her daddy made sure of that."

  Max finally moved an inch and managed to close his mouth. With effort, he heaved himself off of the truck. "It never occurred to me you couldn't shoot." He waved around. "You live in the wilderness. There are guns on your walls. I trusted you to have my back."

  "I'm not a sharpshooter."

  He raked a hand through his hair. "Next time tell me your limitations before I put my life in your hands."

  "You never said I should protect you."

  "I took it for granted you could shoot." He tried to grin reassuringly and failed. "But hey, Carlos is right, it doesn't matter now. You had a shotgun, the one gun you are good with." The grin finally appeared. Widened. Changed his whole face. Became almost real.

  He raked his hair again and, knowing how awful I felt, took my face between his hands. Our gazes locked as those eyes showed that the only important thing was our welfare. And we were both okay. After a long moment, Carlos coughed politely. "Will someone help me to my room? This leg is a bummer and I'm tired."

  I fed Carlos while Max moved a bed into the office so the elderly horse whisperer wouldn't have to maneuver the stairs until his leg healed. "No more stairway disasters." When he was settled in bed, stomach full of lunch and pain medication, he pulled the blanket up to his chin and waved us away. "You two go settle the problems of the world… and of Green Forest Stables… and don't bother me until I wake up which will be many hours from now."

  We closed the door gently but it probably wasn't necessary because he was asleep before we left the room. Then we went outside, across the porch, down the steps, into the yard, where we stopped.

  Max cleared his throat. "Now what?"

  "We get back to the business of training horses." I didn't know what he was trying to say.

  "The three of us?"

  "Of course."

  "I'd like to talk first."

  "About what?"

  "Us. You and me. And the fact that I don't seem to know how to be a decent employee."

  "No problem. I'm not a very good employer."

  "When I came looking for work, I didn't expect much. A menial job for a few weeks, and then I'd move on. But Carlos is a great guy. I liked him right off and he needed help."

  "Which you provided and then some." I still couldn't figure out where this was going. I soon learned.

  "You, on the other hand, were a total surprise."

  "Me?"

  "For one thing, I didn't expect a woman. Carlos didn't mention that little detail."

  "Lots of women work. Most of us."

  "But those other women aren't you. I didn't expect… you."

  "I'm sorry if I ruined your summer but I'm glad you stayed until the cougar was shot. I don't know what we'd have done without you. But I can understand you wanting to move on." I shaded my hand against the brightness of the day as I examined the stable, the woods, the whole clearing that was Green Forest Stable. I wondered what it looked like to Max that first day. "I'm sorry your introduction to the horse business wasn't fortuitous. The cougar, I mean."

  "We got the bastard." Satisfaction showed in his stance and something else. "And you were right when you accused me of enjoying the hunt. It was fun."

  "But it's over and I'm a lousy boss and you're ready to move on."

  "That's the thing. I find that I don't want to move on. Not any more." He turned away from the sun and towards me.

  "You have a feel for horses. You have a future here or anywhere horses are trained. But I can see how this life might be boring for someone like you. A former Ranger."

  "It's not boring and I'd like nothing more than to spend the rest of my working life right here."

  "I know I'm a terrible boss. Still, I wish you wouldn’t leave because of me."

  He took a step closer until he was a shadow blocking the sun that spread golden on either side of his body. "That's the problem. You. It would be easy for me to leave if anyone else in the world was my boss. I don't want to go because of you. You and me." He licked his lips nervously. It was hard to picture a nervous Maxwell Abrams. "Because I can't forget what happened between us the other night."

  My mouth dropped open. "But I promised to forget it."

  "That's the thing. I don't want to forget it. I want to continue where we left off."

  "Oh." My face flamed and I stood there like an idiot saying nothing, doing nothing, wishing I was anywhere but there and glad I wasn't.

  When I didn't answer, Max came closer, and then closer still, moving so tentatively that I could easily have turned away. If I did, he'd have stopped. But I didn't .

  When our lips met, our bodies did too. Until he pulled back. "Are you sure?"

  "I’m sure." I reached for his shirt to bring him closer to me.

  "Sure for more than now, more than today?"

  "Tomorrow too." I could have added 'please.'

  "And the day after that? And the one after that?"

  "Yes. And yes."

  The next thing he said was, "My things are still in my backpack."

  "You haven't unpacked." I knew where he was going. "It would be practical to wait to unpack until you know which room you're going to use."

  "I should try out more than one room to make sure which is right for me."

  "My room has a lovely view from the window."

  "Forget the view from the window. I expect I'll prefer the view in the room."

  "Let's find out."

  As I slammed the door to my apartment behind us I was glad for one fleeting moment that Carlos was bedded down in the office so we'd have privacy. Then Max shut the window and pulled the curtains and turned to me and I forgot everything except the man in my room. And in my life.