Once Upon a Cowboy

by Rachel Lacey

  “Sorry about that. I’ll make sure to get apples when I go shopping later.”

  He gave Twister another pat before heading over to check on the foster horses. Both of them eyed him warily. As he approached, Dusty Star’s eyes widened until he could see the whites, ears pinned against her head.

  “Easy there, girl,” he told her. He walked to the feed room and grabbed a handful of grain, which he offered Dusty as a token of his goodwill. She took it hesitantly from his palm, and then he stood by her stall, talking quietly until her stance had softened. She pressed her nose against the bars, sniffing at him. “You’re in good hands here,” he told her. “You’ll see.” He stroked her nose through the bars as her ears flicked rapidly.

  In the next stall, Bug stood quietly facing the window at the rear, her dappled coat dotted here and there with purple antibiotic spray to treat her wounds. He slid her stall door open, talking gently to her. Almost immediately, she shuffled around to face him, ribs rippling beneath her ragged coat as she moved. Anger curled in Jake’s gut to think someone had allowed her and Dusty Star to live like this, starved and filthy.

  Still talking quietly to her, he allowed her to sniff him before lifting a hand to stroke her neck, staying well away from her wounds. Bug was jumpy, skin twitching beneath his fingers, eyes wide and wary. These horses didn’t seem to have had much handling, and what interactions they’d had with people didn’t seem to have been pleasant. He’d do his best to help change that before they went to their future homes.

  Even though he hadn’t known of their existence until yesterday and had initially not been thrilled about having them here, he was committed now to helping them any way he could. To that end, he treated Bug’s wounds and gave her and Dusty each a flake of the hay the humane society had sent over for them, a special blend that would be easy for them to digest. Colic was always a threat.

  Twister hung his head over the stall door, stamping his displeasure at having been left out. “Jealous?” Jake asked. “Don’t be. You’re about to go graze on all the grass you can eat.”

  Jake gave his horse a rub and then walked out to survey the available pastures. He would turn Twister out separately from the rescue mares. The back pasture seemed to be the largest, so he’d let Twister stretch his legs there. Bug and Dusty wouldn’t be able to handle much grass in their condition, so he’d put them out in the dirt riding ring today with more hay to munch on. Later, he’d give them a few minutes in one of the front pastures to graze. Gradually, over the next few weeks, he would increase their pasture time.

  He spent some time familiarizing himself with the pastures and making sure there weren’t any holes or other hidden dangers for the horses, then filled the water trough in the back pasture and dragged an empty trough to the riding ring, where he filled it for the rescue horses.

  He brought Twister out first. The horse lifted his head as he walked out of the barn, ears pricked, nostrils flared, taking in his new surroundings. “You’re going to enjoy this,” Jake told him. He led Twister through the open gate and unclipped his lead line. Twister paused for a moment before setting off at a jog, chestnut coat gleaming beneath the sun.

  Jake leaned against the fence, watching his horse explore the new pasture. Twister went for a run, stretching his legs and kicking up his heels, before settling down to the ever important task of grazing on the thick, green grass at hand. After a few minutes, Jake went back inside the barn. He set up the tack room and mucked Twister’s stall before bringing the mares outside.

  They stood in the sunlight, looking around uneasily before beginning to munch on their hay. Twister whinnied a hello from the back pasture, but Dusty and Bug ignored him for now. Jake turned to see Megan walking toward him on the path from the castle.

  “How are they doing?” she asked.

  “As well as we could hope for, I think,” he said. “They’re pretty wary of me at the moment, but I think they’ll settle down now that they’re here.”

  “Why’d you put them in the riding ring?” She looked over at the empty pastures next to the one where Twister was grazing.

  “Too much grass could cause them to colic or founder. I don’t want to make them sick.”

  “Thank goodness you’re here,” she said quietly, coming to stand beside him at the fence. “We wouldn’t have had the first clue what to do with them without you.”

  “I’m sure you’d have figured it out, but it’s for the best that they have someone with experience to look after them.”

  She glanced at him. “Definitely for the best.”

  They stared at each other for a moment, during which he became hyperaware of the way the sleeve of her jacket brushed his, her cinnamon eyes reflecting the sky and pasture beyond, her skin flushed from the crisp mountain air so that it seemed to gleam. His gaze dropped to her mouth. Her pink lips were pressed together, pursed slightly as if she were contemplating something. They glistened from whatever gloss she’d applied, and he wanted to taste it, taste her. He wanted to press his lips against hers and kiss her until the aching, empty void inside him had been filled with her warm welcome presence.

  “The humane society will be glad to hear they’re doing so well,” she said, snapping him back to reality before he did something completely ridiculous, like kiss her right here beside the pasture. “Do you have their number?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “I’ll text it to you,” she said.

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  “Okay, well, I’ll let you get back to work, but you might see me down here again later.”

  “Stop by whenever you’d like,” he said, returning his gaze to the horses grazing peacefully before them. “Bring a couple of apples, and I bet you’ll be best friends in no time.”

  “Good to know. Bye, Jake.”

  “Goodbye.” He resisted the urge to watch her walk away, instead striding back toward the barn to get on with his day.

  Megan left the castle mid-afternoon, camera in hand and a smile on her face that the day had warmed up enough to allow her to venture outside without a jacket. It was a gorgeous March afternoon, rich with the promise of spring. Birds sang, and buds covered the trees along the walkway, promising an explosion of greenery to come.

  She couldn’t wait to photograph the gardens with her new camera once everything had bloomed. Already, she could see fresh green sprouts dotting the flower beds. Sucking in a deep breath of fresh mountain air, she made her way down the path toward the barn. Dusty Star and Bug weren’t much to look at yet, but they were perfect candidates for a series of “before and after” photos to document their progress. Hopefully, they were still outside.

  Megan hummed to herself as she walked. Her gaze roamed the pastures beyond, spotting the rescue horses near the barn, heads down as they munched on their hay. She turned her head to see Jake’s horse galloping toward her across the field to her left. His coat gleamed a brilliant red beneath the sun, sleek and shiny. He slowed to a walk as he approached the fence, hanging his head over with a snort that clearly said, “get over here and pet me.”

  She was only too happy to comply. Twister nudged her arm, eyeing the bag of apples and carrots she carried. “Not exactly shy, are you?” she asked as she rubbed her free hand over the white blaze on his face. In response, Twister stomped a hoof and nibbled at the bag.

  “For the record, I was planning to give you one anyway,” she said as she pulled an apple out of the bag. Twister grabbed at it with his mouth, and she snatched her hand away, imagining her fingers getting caught between his alarmingly large teeth and the fruit. The apple dropped to the ground, and Twister gave her a reproachful look. “Sorry, big guy. I’m new at this. Don’t bite me, okay?”

  She picked up the apple, this time holding carefully to one side of it while the horse took a bite. He crunched happily, head bobbing up and down as Megan held onto a slobbery half of an apple. She offered it to him gingerly, jerking her fingers out of reach as soon as Twister had taken hold of it.<
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  “Flat palm,” Jake said from behind her.

  She spun, heart racing at the sight of him. “What?”

  “Twister’s gentle, but if you’re worried about getting bitten, it’s easiest to feed them by holding the treat on a flat palm. Makes it easier for them to grab the food and not you.”

  “Good to know.”

  “You going to take some pictures?” he asked, gesturing to the camera slung over her shoulder.

  She nodded. “I thought it would be a good idea to take some ‘before and after’ pictures of the rescue horses for the website. We’ve done that with a few of the dogs, and it’s been really popular with our guests.”

  He fell into step beside her as she walked toward the rescue horses. “That sounds like a good idea.”

  They arrived at the riding arena, and Jake helped her improve her technique as she fed apples to Bug and Dusty. Both horses hung out near the fence after she’d fed them, waiting to see if she had more. Using their interest as ammunition, she snapped several closeups of each horse as well as full body shots to show their poor condition. “Dusty is going to be a stunner when she fattens up,” she murmured as she worked.

  The horse was a rich tan color with a black mane and tail. She had a small star-shaped white mark on her forehead that had no doubt inspired her name.

  “That’s for sure,” Jake agreed. “I don’t know if either of them have had any training, but if they can be ridden, they ought to find homes pretty quickly.”

  “That’s a pretty big deal, isn’t it?” she asked. “Whether or not they can be ridden?”

  “Definitely. There are people out there looking for a companion animal to keep another horse company in the pasture, but there are a lot more people looking for a horse they can ride.”

  “Fingers crossed, then.”

  “You know what I do for a living, right?” Amusement laced his tone.

  “Well, yes, but you have paying clients you need to focus on. The humane society can’t afford to pay you for any training for these guys.”

  “I do have obligations, but I’ll see if I can’t put in a little work with them too.”

  “Just don’t take any time away from your paying clients.” She turned to face him. “Really. I know this move is a big deal for you, and the last thing I want to do is put more work on your plate.”

  “I appreciate that. I wasn’t thrilled about the idea yesterday, but now that they’re here, I’m invested in seeing them succeed. I’ll do what I can.”

  “You’re one of the good ones, aren’t you?” Her voice dropped without her permission, sounding breathless and flirty, and somehow, they were standing a lot closer to each other than she remembered being a few minutes ago. Jake’s arm brushed hers, the warmth of his skin radiating through her.

  “I don’t know about that.” His eyes seared into hers before he turned his gaze back to the horses. “I reckon I owe the Robertsons for any good you see in me.”

  “Your in-laws?” she asked, vaguely remembering having heard that name around town, and he nodded. “It’s great that you’re still so close. They say tragedies either bring people together or tear them apart.”

  “There’s a lot of truth in that.” He kept his eyes on the horses, but something in his demeanor had shifted, and she regretted her inadvertent dive into personal territory.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up anything painful,” she murmured.

  “Don’t be,” he said. “Honestly, I’m sick to death of people tiptoeing around me. I don’t mind talking about it.”

  “Okay,” she said, touched by his honesty.

  “But yeah, Alana’s parents have become more of a family to me than my own. I don’t know how I would have gotten through any of this without them.”

  “I’m glad you have them.” Her eyes darted to his left hand. When they’d met that night at Bar None last summer, he’d still been wearing a wedding ring, although she hadn’t noticed it right away or she never would have flirted with him. Today, his hand was bare, his fingers calloused and roughened from years on the farm. A shiver passed through her as she imagined how they’d feel on her skin.

  A bug buzzed past her head, and she jumped away from it at the same time Jake turned toward her. Their chests collided, her breasts pressing into his flannel shirt, and before she really even knew what she was doing, her lips brushed his. He let out a rough sound that seemed to vibrate right through her, his hands gripping her waist, drawing her closer for a moment before returning some space between them.

  Dammit. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t do this.

  “Sorry,” she whispered.

  “Don’t be,” he said as a slow smile spread across his lips, and poof, there went her hormones, exploding for him all over again. “I think you know I’ve been attracted to you since that first night we met.”

  “Oh.” She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to calm her racing heart, because yeah, she’d been sure that night, but since he signed the lease…not so much. “Really?”

  “Very much so,” he said, his eyes gleaming with a kind of heat that left little doubt as to the truth of his words. “It’s just…I haven’t dated since my wife, and I think it might not be a good idea for us to go there, you know, now that I’m living here.”

  “Right,” she said, nodding. “You’re definitely right. It could be tricky. And…maybe you’re not even ready.”

  “I might not be.” Sadness flickered across his features, and Megan’s brain clicked up to speed, because Jake had just told her he hadn’t been with anyone since his wife. Alana had been in a coma for something like nine years, which meant…was it possible Jake hadn’t had sex since he was a teenager?

  Holy shit.

  That was…she couldn’t even wrap her brain around it. Maybe, hopefully, surely he’d had a few random hookups in there somewhere.

  “I should go.” She pressed the bag of apples into his hands. “You should keep these in the barn. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow,” he echoed, and she wondered why walking away felt so hard. Maybe she was finally learning what it felt like to make mature decisions.

  4

  Duchess arrived the following morning. The two-year-old gray quarter horse filly would be under Jake’s care for the next month or two as he started her under saddle and trained her for western pleasure. He settled her in the stall next to Twister, knowing that both horses had calm, easygoing personalities and would likely enjoy each other’s company. Indeed, after some spirited stomping and snorting, they settled in to munch hay next to each other.

  “Nice place,” Mr. Nichols, Duchess’s owner, commented. He was a corporate CEO who’d moved to the area from Richmond a few years ago after he’d retired at the ripe old age of forty-five. Now he dabbled in the stock market and seemed to be doing well for himself, judging by the size of the property he lived on and the quality of the horses he bought for his family. Duchess was a recent acquisition, meant for his thirteen-year-old daughter Kassie to ride, and Mr. Nichols had spared no expense, ensuring the filly had the finest pedigree money could buy.

  “I’m really happy to be here,” Jake told him. “And grateful for the opportunity to work with Duchess.”

  “I wouldn’t have her trained by anyone else,” he said. “You’ve done exceptional work with all of our horses, and we’re happy to help support you in your new endeavor here at Rosemont Castle.”

  “Thank you, sir. It means a lot.” Jake had first met the Nichols family when he worked at the Twin Pine Stables in nearby Masonville, and he couldn’t be more grateful for their business. Satisfied clients like the Nichols’ would tell their friends and hopefully help establish his career as a trainer. Jake had a number of clients that he visited for training sessions at their own barns, but the horses he boarded and trained at Rosemont Castle would be his real bread and butter.

  The rest of the week passed relatively uneventfully. Jake spent his mornings at the barn and his afterno
ons in his office, working on his next book. He’d started writing on a whim during those long days at Alana’s bedside. Since he’d always loved crime novels, he’d started a series starring an equine-loving private investigator who accepted cases all over the world solving crimes tangled up in the world of horses.

  He couldn’t say his books had been a runaway success, but they brought in enough extra income to allow him to move into his own barn a few years earlier than he would have been able to if he’d been dependent on income from horse training alone.

  When he wasn’t working at the castle, he traveled to his offsite clients for training sessions. He kept himself as busy as possible, throwing himself into his work on both fronts. Being here at Rosemont Castle had reinvigorated him. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this alive, certain parts of him in particular. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t stop thinking about Megan.

  He tried to ignore it, but when he closed his eyes at night, he remembered the way it felt when her lips pressed against his, the way his blood pounded and his heart raced, every cell in his body blissfully, painfully alive.

  It was probably for the best, then, that she had flown home to Florida to visit her family. And after a few days without seeing her, he’d convinced himself he’d gotten his head back on straight. He couldn’t control his thoughts in bed, but he could absolutely control his reaction to her in person. That is, until he returned from a trail ride on Twister Friday afternoon to find her walking out of the barn.

  “Hi,” he said as he walked Twister toward her.

  “Hi.” She grinned up at him, the sun sparkling in her eyes, and he was done for.

  “How was Florida?”

  “A lot warmer than it is here,” she told him, rubbing her hands over her arms for effect. “It was great to spend a few days with my family, but I’m glad to be back. I guess Rosemont Castle feels like home now.”

  “That’s a good thing, I think,” he said.