by Claire Adams
“I always had other interests besides just ranching. Like you, I suppose. Ranching wasn’t your first path either, right? You were a lawyer before coming here.”
“Yeah, a damn good one, unfortunately. I had A-list clients from big-time corporations that constantly needed me to get them out of some stupid trouble. You know how much more peaceful it is out here than in a big city courtroom representing some dumbass with more money than brains?”
Green Point was definitely peaceful compared to the hustle and bustle of New York where I had spent the past five years. Dad had never agreed with my choice to live in the city to study business. “You have all the experience right here,” he had said. “What is so alluring about all those buildings around you? It’s a God-forsaken prison there.”
“I gave up the city just like you did,” Michael continued on, sipping at his whiskey again with a sigh, but my face must have betrayed me. “No? You didn’t come back willingly to the ranch?”
A stark coldness washed over me when I thought of Tiffany’s frantic phone call from the hospital in Portland a few months ago. I had boarded that plane from New York with the naive belief that everything would be settled, and I’d be back in the city after a few days. My parents were buried in the hard ground within two days, and the ranches were left for Tiffany and me to maintain.
Green Point was the only one that needed our supervision. The other two had been supervised from afar already, and had trusted ranch hands in place, plus they didn’t have competition breathing down their neck the way Green Point did.
“The sudden death of my parents was not something I had anticipated.”
“I’m sorry, Colt,” Michael held up his hands. “That was insensitive of me. I know that we are only neighbors, but I did care about your parents. They were really good people and were kind to me and offered help, even knowing of my association with the enemy, so to speak. They were good folks, and I don’t want to see that beautiful ranch of yours go to waste with your head occupied over here.”
“That’s why Tiffany is in charge of the daily operations.”
“She spends a lot of time over at Cheyenne’s ranch, too,” Michael said. He took a long sip of whiskey again. “I guess I can’t call it a ranch… The horse sanctuary.”
I turned away to hide the reaction I felt deep in my stomach when Michael mentioned Cheyenne. She and her horse sanctuary were also new to Green Point, and she had already caused a stir among the men in town.
Including myself. The woman was downright beautiful in my eyes. Her tall and slender body always looked so nice in those skin-tight jeans she wore tucked into her boots. I liked the soft flannel shirts she wore and thought a lot about the buttons. Her hair was dark, like midnight in the middle of the forest, and I was always tempted to run my fingers down the long braid she kept it in.
Tiffany promised to try and get a good word in for me, but Cheyenne was already notorious for turning down every single man who asked her out. The only advantage I had was Tiffany, but Cheyenne had kept her distance. The few times she had come into the Iron Stallion had been a little awkward, with Tiffany filling in with chatter as she always did whenever there were gaps in the conversation or someone was otherwise uncomfortable.
“She just doesn’t want a bunch of drama,” Tiffany had told me. “A bunch of guys posturing around would be a distraction, and she is working on her dream, just like you.”
She never asked for help either. Not from the men in Green Point at least. She fixed her own fences and appeared to do the repairs that needed to be done herself. She didn’t leave room for anybody to have a chance to help her. As frustrating as it was, I found it really attractive. She ran the sanctuary on a tight budget with grants and donations. There was nothing fancy about the small two-story cabin she lived in either. The whole operation was simple and modest—like Cheyenne herself.
Maybe it was a good thing that she kept her distance. There was no doubt in my mind that being alone with Cheyenne would spell trouble for me. Lust flared in me at the thought of having an opportunity to kiss those pink lips that smiled warmly in my direction whenever I drove by. I considered myself a good guy, but it only took one look from those forest-colored eyes before I felt that impulse.
That was what landed me in trouble most of the time. It had been too long since I’d enjoyed the touch of a woman if I was now fantasizing about a woman I’d only spoken to a handful of times. I needed to do something to get that fantasy out of my head.
I looked up through the front windows just in time to see Cheyenne drive by towing her trailer. The influx of horses never seemed to stop, no matter what time of day it was. I had to give Cheyenne the respect she was due for her dedication to helping out with abused animals, but it seemed to be the only thing in her life that she paid attention to or cared about. Everything else was a disaster—according to Tiffany, at least, including her previous love life.
“This is good whiskey,” Michael commented, interrupting my thoughts of Cheyenne. “Have a drink, neighbor. A toast to new opportunities.”
I gladly poured myself a glass to toast with Michael. The alcohol burned the back of my throat, distracting me from the other fire brewing in my gut as I watched Cheyenne’s truck turn right in the direction of the vet clinic. If only those new opportunities Michael spoke of included Cheyenne. I shook my head free of that thought and clinked my glass against Michael’s.
We both took a long and hearty drink. “Amen to that, buddy. Amen to that. Toast to your parents too. I’m sure they are proud of you.”
I didn’t bother correcting that. But I knew they weren’t proud of me. I couldn’t tell Michael that the last time I had talked to my father on the phone was over a year ago and that it had ended in an argument that put cracks in our very foundation.
Chapter 3
Cheyenne
I gritted my teeth in aggravation when the stallion shifted away from my hands. He was covered with blood. Multiple scars of all ages were evident, and his bones were all too prominent. He was nothing but a spooked pile of bones beneath my fingers. Even still, I could tell he was an amazing horse. I couldn’t wait to get him back in better shape just to see it.
Bill Coates was going to hell for this.
It didn’t surprise me when Jacob told me that it was Bill Coates who had refused to pay and, worse, refused to take responsibility for the treatment of his animals. I didn’t want to think about the other horses and animals that lived on his ranch miles out of Green Point. This horse wasn’t the first to come to Jacob’s clinic. “It won’t be the last either,” Jacob had said gravely. “Bill Coates has friends here in town that work with the sheriff. He’ll never get an animal abuse charge because his ranch produces money. We took the horse away, but that’s about the most we can do with the sheriff being in his pocket.”
That would change though. A couple of calls to a few advocate groups would also change the way Bill Coates treated his animals.
The stallion whinnied uneasily, again shifting away from my touch. He pulled at the rope I had tethered to the gate until I could get him fully cleaned. A few of the wounds that Jacob had treated needed to be washed before I applied the medicine.
“I know, buddy,” I said and smoothed a hand down his neck. The muscles there tensed up, but he didn’t pull away. “In a couple of days, you’ll be perfectly happy here at the sanctuary; I promise.”
He snorted hard. I bit back a smile as I finished up washing the dried flecks of blood from his coat, and then towel dried him as best as I could before applying the cream. He took off into the field, happy to join the other horses the second I unclipped the rope from his bridle.
I watched as he trotted around the group, whinnying the entire time as the other horses greeted him happily. Strong muscle despite the malnourishment shifted underneath a shiny black coat. He stopped to graze on the patch of grass where a group of horses were gathered.
The phone rang inside my office. Wiping my hands as I walked, I hurr
ied into the office to pick up the landline.
“Cheyenne’s Horse Sanctuary. How can I help you?”
“You’re answering the phone on a Sunday morning? I guess I shouldn’t be that surprised.”
I leaned against the desk with a smile at the exasperation in Tiffany’s voice. “I don’t know why you would be. You’re normally down here with me on Sundays.”
“I know. Sorry I didn’t get there today. Colt needed me to go over the books and some paperwork at the ranch today.”
“Don’t apologize for that,” I said, frowning. “You have another ranch to care for. You’re helping me out by volunteering your time. I would never expect you to abandon the place that supplies your income.”
Everyone in Green Point knew that Tiffany and Colt Smith were set for the rest of their lives financially—even if they closed the ranches down. Apparently, their parents had been really smart about their money from what I gathered through the grapevine around town. Everyone respected the Smiths.
Tiffany had been the first person to come offer to help with the sanctuary. She split her time between my ranch and her own while Colt had opened up a restaurant in town. There were rumors that neither of them really wanted to carry on with the ranches, but felt they should keep them, especially the one in Green Point, because local residents were employed on the ranch.
“It’s really just a pain in my ass at this point,” Tiffany said flatly. “Colt refuses to do anything now. He signs off on contracts, but that’s about it anymore.”
I looked out the barn window to where the horses were still grazing on dry grass. Clouds were gathering on the horizon—a promise of rain later in the afternoon. I would need to gather them up and get them into the barn, which would be a tedious task since they’d gotten a taste of the pasture.
Curiosity got the better of me when it came to the mention of Colt. He did ranch work at times, from what I had seen since coming to Green Point. I had sometimes watched him walk along the fields of the Smith ranch, checking the fences and chewing on a piece of hay. Those were the times that he looked truly peaceful. A sharp contrast to the dark and brooding look he had after the accident that took the life of his parents.
“Why doesn’t he do anything at the ranch anymore?” I asked.
Tiffany sighed into the phone. “It has everything to do with our parents. He never wanted to be a full-time rancher. He went off to New York for college, then worked at an investment firm for a few years.”
“How did he end up with a restaurant then?”
“Beats me. I didn’t even know he could cook, but the man can put out some serious grub when he wants to.”
“That’ll have all the ladies in Green Point after him,” I commented wryly. “That’s a good quality to have in a man.”
“No kidding,” Tiffany said, “But he only has eyes for you.”
My stomach fluttered at that. No men, Cheyenne. Just horses.
“That’s flattering, but you know I’m not into dating right now. I just don’t have the time.”
“Neither of us have any time for it with the work we do. Speaking of that, how is the stallion you picked up yesterday?”
Grateful for the topic change, I described the condition the stallion was in, along with what Jacob had told me about Bill Coates.
“That man is despicable,” Tiffany spat into the phone. “He’s done things like that for years, and he never seems to get in trouble for it.”
“I don’t understand it,” I said, shaking my head even though I knew she couldn’t see me. “Jacob told me he has called the sheriff numerous times reporting abuse and neglect. Nothing ever seems to happen.”
“It’s the old gentlemen’s club here in Green Point. His ranch produces a lot of money, and he tends to wave it around to cover his wrinkly old ass.”
“That’ll change soon enough. I made some calls.”
“Calls?” Tiffany repeated, interest piqued. “What sort of calls?”
A smile spread across my face. “I’m sure they’ve contacted him by now, and there is bound to be a real investigation now on how Bill handles his ranching business. The American people wouldn’t be happy to hear that the cows and other animals he has are being abused. That’s what PETA said.”
“You called PETA?”
“I did. I couldn’t stand it. This stallion is beautiful, and it’s covered in scars. If Bill Coates is abusing animals, then he deserves to be investigated. The cows he raises for beef are in the awful condition as well. You can tell they are pumped full of steroids. They’re big, but not healthy, according to Jacob.”
“Wow, Cheyenne. I knew you were a martyr, but calling PETA proves that even more. I hope you’re ready for the confrontation.”
“Bring it on,” I said. “Bill Coates doesn’t intimidate me. My daddy raised a strong girl, and I can handle whatever the man throws at me.”
“I hope you can because Bill is well known for his temper around here. Call me if anything happens, okay? I’ll be around the ranch today.”
“I’ll be fine. Enjoy your Sunday.”
I hung up after my conversation with Tiffany. The distant boom of thunder added to the unease simmering in my stomach. The sound of a truck flying down the dirt road drew my attention to the gate I had left open. In a storm of dust and gravel, a black Chevy truck roared up and screeched to a stop, parking directly behind my own vehicle.
There was no mistaking the heavy-set man in jeans and a flannel shirt that jumped out of his truck. The bearded face was the same color as his red suspenders as he stomped in the direction of the barn, where he knew I was likely to be. As he adjusted his weather-beaten cowboy hat, I could see the fury that shimmered in his eyes.
“Shit,” I whispered, grabbing my cell phone from the desk. Who would I call though? By all accounts, the sheriff and Bill were fast friends.
Seconds later, the office door was pushed open. I clenched my phone tightly to my chest as Bill stormed in.
“You have one hell of a fucking nerve, woman,” he growled, glaring at me. “Thanks to your phone call, I was informed that PETA has opened an investigation of my ranch.”
“You deserve what you have coming, as far as I’m concerned,” I managed to say, keeping my voice as calm as possible despite the fear gripping my heart. “Jacob and I have provided treatment and care to your stallion the way it deserves to be treated. According to Jacob, this isn’t the first time he has seen evidence of abuse on your animals.”
“You and Jacob are the martyrs here, huh? Well, I’ve got news for you, missy. No one likes a martyr.” Bill jerked his thumb in the direction of the pasture. “Get my damn horse out of your pasture.”
I gritted my teeth. “That’s not going to happen, Mr. Coates. I don’t care what you say; I am not giving you that horse. He’s under my care now.”
Bill’s face colored to an even deeper shade of red. “Just because you run a sanctuary doesn’t give you the right to steal my horses. That is theft pure and simple. That horse is my property.”
“You abandoned it,” I snapped, fiddling with my phone. “You left it at Jacob’s clinic after refusing to pay for the treatment provided. He did the right thing by bringing him here.”
“That horse is mine, and I will get him back!” Bill shouted. “Even if I have to call the sheriff to do it!”
It took all my restraint to not shrivel back in fear. I was taller than Bill, but when it came to strength, the man was pure muscle and fat. Spittle covered the corner of his lips now as he dug through his pant pockets for his phone.
“I’ll call them,” I told him, waving my phone at him. “I’ll explain to him that you have no paperwork to prove the horse is yours. I’m assuming you don’t have the paperwork, from the shape the horse was in. Are you sure you want the sheriff coming by with PETA on your ass now? You know, he’ll get them involved. Even though they can’t do much, they sure are a pain in the ass.” His face turned a shade of purple at that. “It’s not going to look good on
your part, Bill.”
“No one bothers with paperwork around here. You’re the only one who does.”
“That should change then,” I said. “This animal has been abused. I have every right to keep him here because you refused to pay for treatment, and Jacob put him in my custody.” I pointed to the open office door. “Now, kindly remove yourself from my property before I have the sheriff trespass you.”
Bill took a step in my direction, his mouth gaping open and his eyes blazing with anger. His hand reached behind him. For a wild moment, I thought his fingers were reaching for the hilt of a .9mm he always carried on him. All the ranchers carried a concealed weapon while walking along their property lines in case they encountered wild animals. Just the shots were loud enough to scare them away most of the time.
Heart pounding, I watched as Bill’s hands slowly came back around empty-handed. He pointed a fat finger at me again. “This isn’t over, lady,” he growled. “I can promise you that. This is far from over.”
He slammed the door, causing the glass window to shatter as it hit the side of the barn. I let out the breath I’d been holding as soon as I heard his truck roar to life. Gravel and dirt flew everywhere as he backed around furiously and peeled out down the road. Dizzy with adrenaline, I grabbed the door to steady myself as I watched Bill’s truck until it was out of my sight.
“This isn’t over.”
Those words echoed in the back of my mind as I closed the barn door with a shaky breath. There was no doubt in my mind that Bill Coates had every intention of fighting me now. I needed to keep on eye trained on the black stallion that was now cowering at the back of the pasture behind the group of horses.
As the wild eyes of the black stallion met mine, I caught a glimpse of the intense fear that flared in the heart of this once magnificent animal.