High-Stakes Colton

by Karen Anders

  Jake stopped and put his hands on his hips and the man she was talking to cued her that she’d better button her lip and turn around. When she whipped around, she faced his gaze head-on without flinching. Damn but he liked a flinty woman who knew how to stand her ground, and he wasn’t surprised she was skeptical of his skills. He got the feeling she wasn’t too keen he was here, but now he was certain it wasn’t only the crackling sexual tension between them. He couldn’t mistake that for anything than what it was.

  “You better tie up your pointe shoes. I think I hear the opening to Swan Lake,” he drawled.

  The man choked on a laugh, and it was clear not many people talked to Alanna Colton that way, but he didn’t give a damn. There was a small part of him that felt a bit of the ego bruise she’d apparently landed. The rest of him was just much too turned on by this fascinating, contrary woman who ran this stable like a well-oiled machine. He was damned impressed on many levels.

  Too bad he was here to delve into her motivations and reasons for possibly masterminding the kidnapping of her own father. Was this slip of a woman capable of that? She was a Colton, so he would have to say yes, but did he feel it in his gut? He wasn’t quite sure that was accurate. Snap judgments were something he’d honed over his time in law enforcement. Alanna discombobulated him.

  She folded her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes. He reached out his hand, “Mr. Tressler?”

  “Yep, that’s me.” His handshake was firm and quick.

  “Jake McCord. The horse whisperer,” he said, and got the expected reaction from Alanna when she stiffened and huffed out a breath. “I’d like to get acquainted with Zorro if that’s convenient for you right now.”

  “I’m free—”

  “Just a minute,” Alanna interrupted and turned to her foreman. “I need to have a word with Mr. McCord.”

  Buck gave him a sympathetic look and said, “I’ll be right outside when you’re ready.” It looked as if Buck thought Jake might be a mite sore after getting his hide stripped by Alanna.

  Jake faced the pretty, agitated blonde and waited. She dropped her arms and her fists clenched. “I don’t believe you can tame that horse with magic and moonbeams, Mr. McCord. Just so you know I have no compunction telling you straight to your face.” He went to speak, and she held up her hand. “I believe he’s ruined, unpredictable and dangerous and even a rugged cowboy, all hopped up on his sage wisdom, can’t pull off a save. That’s my honest opinion.”

  “I had no doubt you are an outspoken woman, Ms. Colton. I will do my damnedest to show you that I don’t doctor up my résumé or my reputation. Pretty much what you see is what you get. No subterfuge.” He realized he was here undercover, but he was being completely straightforward about who he was. What she saw was what she got.

  “My brother might have hired you, Mr. McCord, but I run the stables, and I don’t go for all that horse-whispering mumbo jumbo or your sense of humor.”

  He cocked his hip and set his hands on his belt buckle. “There’s a saying that you can’t step into the same river twice. Once you step in, you alter it, you affect its flow, you transform the soil and water mixture, and you make a mark. It’s a changed river. When I’m finished with Zorro, he won’t be the same horse he was when I got here. I’ll guarantee that, Ms. Colton.”

  He leaned in. He couldn’t help it. She was so attractive when she was setting her boundaries. Tangling with her was more dangerous than French-kissing a rattlesnake. He should heed his instinct, but it wasn’t in his nature to back down, even though it was in his best interests. Getting attached in any way to a suspect was asking for trouble and getting mired in emotions was certainly not something he needed to add to his already burned-out attitude. She was...refreshing, though, and it was his job to get close to her. Get her to reveal any secrets she might be storing in that pretty head of hers. Getting just close enough, but not too close was his game plan. A little wooing was necessary and he was finding it more enjoyable than he’d planned. “I take your meaning, but my sense of humor might grow on you. And, Ms. Colton, I do all kinds of whisperin’ and reckon it works like a charm, no complaints so far. Let me know if you...” his voice dropped an octave “...need any samplin’.”

  He turned on his heel and left her standing there with her mouth open. With each step he felt buoyant, not that he wanted to; he couldn’t seem to help himself.

  When he cleared the doors and stepped back out into the sunlight, it was going on seven thirty. “Your hide looks intact, and you’re walking pretty good there, cowboy.”

  “This ain’t my first rodeo,” Jake said and grinned.

  “Yeah, it takes a strong man to stand up to that lady. Hats off to you.”

  “Let me take a look at this devil horse and see what we’ve got.”

  “I’m with Miss Colton on this.” He started walking over to a two-seater golf cart. Jake looked at it skeptically and Buck grinned, his demeanor open and warm. “Not exactly what cowboys normally ride around on, but this is a big area and it’s fast transportation. I’ll give you the breakdown as we go.”

  “Fair enough.” Jake slid into the seat and Buck started up the engine.

  Buck settled his hat tighter to his head. “You also think Zorro is a lost cause?” Jake asked as the foreman put the little vehicle in gear.

  “Yes, I’m afraid so. I’ve been riding and ranching all my life. I’ve never seen such a rogue horse. He belongs in the wild with his own herd. Gelding him would be the other choice, but I don’t think he’ll ever be a top-notch cutter or agreeable barrel racer. Fowler is adamant the horse would enhance our bloodlines, and I disagree. He’s got everything else going for him conformationwise. No doubt. But breeding a horse with that disposition seems like a disaster in the making.”

  “I haven’t met Mr. Colton yet. I hear he’s not a tolerant sort.”

  Buck chuckled. “Fowler Colton doesn’t suffer fools well, or anyone for that matter. But he and the family are under enough stress.”

  “You mean with Eldridge Colton missing.”

  Buck shot Jake a look, his expression contained with an undercurrent of censure. “I wasn’t here when it all happened. But I’m sure it is a source of stress no doubt, but the family is weathering his disappearance as best they can. Best to leave that to them and Sheriff Watkins.”

  “Sure, I understand. It’s been in the news a lot lately. Hard to miss.”

  “The media is as hungry for news as a newborn calf is for its mama’s milk,” he said, his message clear. He didn’t gossip about the Coltons. Jake had to admire that and wondered if it was just Buck’s character or something in Alanna that inspired such loyalty. “The stables behind us house the sale stock as well as the indoor arena, as you’ve seen, and includes a viewing area as well as the forty stalls.”

  He drove until the apartments were in sight, then made a right to go around. “These are the two barns that house the cutters. Cisco is where we keep the horses we’re training and the studs. Jasper is where we keep the mares, foals and yearlings.”

  “How many head you got?”

  “Altogether, we’ve got about two hundred or so depending on sales and such. We’re about to have an auction for the new crop of fully trained horses.”

  He looped around and pointed out the next set of identical barns. “Spur and Dallas house mostly training stock. I believe that’s where your mount is, correct?”

  “Yes, sir. Name’s Valentine. Blue roan.”

  “I have a soft spot for roans. Had me one when I was just a tyke.” He gestured ahead. “Each of the service barns holds forty horses with two wash racks and tack room. The mare barns also have sleeping accommodations when mares are foaling in case Alanna or the vet want to catch some shut-eye.”

  “It’s an expansive and impressive operation Miss Colton is running.”

  “Yes, she has the staff to help her, but she’s pretty tireless and always on top of things.”

  As they passed, Jake noted each of the
barns had a paddock adjacent to the structure opening out from the stalls.

  Buck pulled the small cart over and parked. He got out and Jake followed. “Time for breakfast. Don’t want to miss Ellen’s cinnamon rolls.”

  *

  “You’re both right on time,” Ellen said, her gaze lingering a little longer on the foreman. “It’s nice to have you back, Buck.”

  “Good to be back, Ellen.”

  “Any luck?”

  “Yep, two new mares.”

  “Very good. Have a seat before the masses arrive and all hell breaks loose.” Ellen waved them to chairs. She returned with cutlery, two steaming cups of coffee, a pitcher of cream and a pan of cinnamon buns. She set them down in front of them, then went back for a napkin dispenser and a bowl of sugar from the lazy Susan. “Have at it,” she said with a smile.

  They dug in and Ellen had been right. People started to arrive. More than he could learn the names of in the first sitting. But it wasn’t until Alanna walked in that for him, all hell broke loose.

  She was cordial to everyone, but reserved. When she met his eyes, she didn’t shy away. He liked her self-possession, but he was a master of body language, partly from being a cop and partly from his ability to work with horses. Alanna Colton didn’t trust easily. Who could blame her? If it wasn’t her controversial and backstabbing family, it was the media trying to get dirt on them. Getting close to her was his job. There was no getting around that. But his ability to professionally detach himself from any situation involving the criminal element seemed to elude him. Didn’t mean she wasn’t guilty.

  When Buck rose, Jake went with him, setting down the mug, Ellen quickly picked it up and set it into the sink. Jake donned his hat and tipped it as he left. Alanna didn’t give him much of a response.

  Later, on the backside of the barn was where he got his first glimpse of Zorro. Jake climbed the fence and the horse turned his head to look at them. He stiffened into an alert stance, his nostrils flaring as he caught Jake’s scent. He could see why Fowler had bought the stallion and why it would enhance both the cutters and the barrel racers. His lines were excellent with all the makings of a stellar all-around stud.

  “Thanks for showing me around. I’ll spend some time getting acquainted.”

  Buck nodded. “Good luck, Jake,” Buck said as he jumped down from the fence. He stopped and looked at the stallion, then at Jake. The horse had moved closer to the fence where Jake was perched. Not exactly friendly. Jake simply made eye contact and slowly sank down into himself, holding the animal’s hostile gaze. Some people who watched him called it The Zone, but for Jake it was a thought-free state beyond being present but in touch with presence itself—the natural state of being for horses. How they lived life. In the moment.

  Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Buck’s lips part and his brows rise, but Jake kept all his attention on Zorro. The horse’s ears flicked forward, then went back. He took another step forward. There was a noise from inside the barn and Zorro whirled and trotted to the end of the fence. His message was clear. It was going to take more than a positive attitude to gain this animal’s trust.

  Buck said softly, “Well, I’ll be jiggered and left.”

  “I’m not paying you good money to stand around and stare at him,” a sardonic voice said from Jake’s left. He turned to meet the cold blue eyes of Fowler Colton, dressed in a pricey Stetson and a charcoal-gray business suit with Western accents across his broad shoulders, his brown hair neat around his ears. The oil baron dabbling in horse-trading. It was an interesting prospect since Fowler had no interest in the stables previously.

  “I think I left my fairy wand in my other jeans.”

  Fowler’s eyes narrowed. “Is that supposed to be funny?”

  “No, it’s to remind you miracles don’t happen overnight. You hired me to do a job. Let me do the job.”

  “Not many men stand up to me without consequences, McCord.”

  Jake had never been a yes-man. He’d been his own man and stated his opinion. He often worked in a system that ate a man whole and spit him out. He realized he shouldn’t have been so flippant, but Jake recognized something right away. Fowler respected a man who could hold his own and would most likely trust someone who wasn’t a kiss ass. “But you come highly recommended, so you get one pass.”

  “It takes time to rehabilitate a horse, Mr. Colton. If you aim to breed him with the best results, you’ll give me the time and patience I need to give you the value of that good money you paid.”

  Fowler stepped closer, his wintery eyes assessing Jake and recognition flared. Yeah, that’s right, Jake was an alpha, too. “Is that so, son? I’d say get on with it. I’m not in the business of throwing away money and that stallion was pricey. Make it work.”

  “In good time.”

  Fowler turned to go, but almost collided with a pimply-faced teenager leading a mare. “Watch where the hell you’re going!” Fowler said, and the teenager quickly apologized.

  “What is your name?”

  “Mike, sir.”

  “Well, Mike, I’ll have you off this spread so fast your head will swim.”

  “He deeply apologizes, sir. Don’t you, Mike?”

  A tall, good-looking cowboy intervened just before Jake was about to open his mouth and try to smooth it over.

  “Yes, sir. Deeply.”

  Fowler gave both of them one more glaring look and strode off on his pricey hand-tooled boots.

  “Better get Jo back to the barn now, Mike.”

  They had a quick conversation about being more careful, even though it was Fowler who wasn’t looking where he was going.

  The older guy faced Jake and said, “Hey, there. Saw you at breakfast but didn’t get a chance to say howdy. Dylan Harlow and that’s Mike Jensen. He’s one of Alanna’s troubled teens. Good kid.”

  “Jake McCord.”

  Dylan took off his hat and ran his hand through his dark hair, then jammed his hat back on. “Whew, still a mite warm for September.”

  “Figure it is.”

  “You the guy they hired to handle Zorro?”

  “I am that man.”

  “Boy howdy, you got your work cut out for you and I don’t just mean Zorro. Good luck,” he said as he sauntered off.

  Jake nodded, looking in the direction Fowler had taken. Jake was sure the CEO of Colton Incorporated wasn’t done breathing down his neck.

  At the end of the day, feeling the effects of the heat, the dirt and the slow start with Zorro, Jake headed for his apartment and the meal he was sure Miss Ellen would be cooking. After the initial meeting with Zorro, Jake found the rest of the afternoon to be frustrating as he tried to get closer to the animal. But it was as if he was off for some reason. He wondered if it could be Alanna. She did knock him for a loop.

  As he approached, the aroma of beef and other delectable scents hit him as he entered the apartments. Ellen was at the stove and she waved to him as he climbed the stairs, his stomach grumbling.

  In his newly appointed apartment, he stripped, opened the linen closet and discovered there were no towels. There was a knock at the door and he hastily pulled on his jeans, zipping them but in his hurry forgot to button them.

  When he pulled open the door, Alanna Colton burst into the apartment toting a stack of fluffy brown towels with her tail on fire.

  She came to a stop and bemused, he followed her. She was a combination of edgy sweet and bossy princess. She turned and that direct gaze slammed into him. Hoo-boy, she was riled. “I understand you had a run-in with my brother. What happened?”

  “He wanted me to hurry up and fix the horse. I left my fairy wand in my other jeans.”

  Her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. “You didn’t actually say that.”

  “I did.”

  A soft laugh escaped and she shook her head, a gleam of admiration there. “And, you’re still here?”

  “Left my fairy dust at home, too.”

  That made her laugh out lo
ud as if she was picturing him as Tinker Bell. “You had a full day pissing off the Coltons, huh?”

  “Setting my boundaries is all.”

  “I’d say they’re set. Not many men can or are willing to cross swords with my brother. That sets you apart, Jake.” His body leaped in response to her softly spoken compliment, urging him to do something—anything—about it. Hard to keep telling himself this was supposed to be a fake wooing when the sexual tension between them was clouding up his mind in a thick fog.

  He nodded, taking a breath, shifting to accommodate the sudden lack of room in his jeans, deciding they needed a benign topic. “The towels are welcome,” he said in the sudden silence. Alanna had just realized he was bare-chested. The way her startled green eyes drifted over him set his teeth on edge, the very air vibrating with tension. On undercover operations where he had to get close to a suspect, he hadn’t worked this hard to stay detached. But she intrigued him.

  He stepped over and slid his hand on top of and under the stack, and their fingers accidentally brushed across one another. She pulled her hand away, and stepped back. Her sudden uncertainty was so at odds with her bold nature. They were still standing close and something tightened in his chest. She was so innocent-looking, angelic even with her honey skin and tawny hair now loose and free, cut into tapered layers. But it was her face that did him in, every time. As a man he was acutely aware of her body, but he was a fool for that face, the innocence and the beauty of it never failing to turn him inside out.

  “I saw the maid with them and I wanted to talk to you about Fowler. Let you know he’s...particular. He’s also out of his element and that makes him—”

  “Confrontational?”

  “He’s that on a good day. I was going to say nasty. But he’s handling the situation the best he can.”

  “With your father’s disappearance,” he asked, not having to feign the slight roughness to his voice. Did she have any idea the effect she was having on him? Probably not. He didn’t fully understand it. But tell that to the rest of him, which was having no problem at all responding to her. Why he felt protective of her was anybody’s guess.