by Em Petrova
Reaching up, she tugged her knit cap down over her ears, which only made her curls poof out the bottom more. Zayden’s gaze traveled over her face and hair and then returned to her eyes.
“Let’s go.” He strode to the door, and she followed.
The horse pawed at the ground, raring to get on the move. Zayden said a few soft words to it, and she marveled at the trust between man and the beast he didn’t even know the name of.
After getting settled in the saddle, he clicked his tongue, and they began to move.
She looked around herself, squinting at the blinding white of the snow against the sun, which had decided to come out. Of course, with her luck, the weather would take a huge turn. Why couldn’t it have been nicer the previous day when she was on her own?
The snow drifted in places over the trail, but Zayden seemed to know where he was going and guided them with skill. Once they began to navigate a steeper incline, he scooted forward in the saddle.
“Lean forward. We’ve gotta keep the weight over the horse’s shoulders and chest.”
She did, and he locked an arm across her middle to hold her steady as they took the least evil route.
“What is the horse wearing on its feet? Snow boots?” she asked. She’d noticed the cute shoes before Zayden assisted her into the saddle.
“Hoof boots. They’ve got removable studs for traction. Was glad I found them in the barn.”
“You live on a ranch?”
She felt him tense behind her, and the muscle of his arm hardened as well.
“I’m stayin’ there for now.”
She heard the cold tone of his voice and veered away from the topic.
“I work in the credit union in town.”
“Yeah? Off Midland Street?”
“Yes. I’m a teller there, but I hope to move up someday.”
“So banking is your passion.”
She laughed, the sound caught by the wind. Zayden’s arm relaxed, but he drew her a millimeter closer to his chest. She gladly accepted his protection as the wind picked up, blowing the horse’s mane back.
“Not my passion, no, but it’s a job I enjoy. Years ago, I started a degree in business and finance, but I didn’t complete it.”
“Wasn’t for you anymore?” His voice washed past her ear.
“No, I quit school and followed a different jerk here to Stokes.”
“You got a thing for jerks.” It wasn’t a question, and the statement rocked her deep. All she knew about herself was coming into focus, brought to light by a complete stranger.
Zayden didn’t know her at all, but after thirty seconds of conversation he’d nailed her.
“Sorry. None of my business.” He guided them across a flatter area, and the horse resumed its pace.
“You’re good with horses.”
“Grew up with them.”
“I always wished I’d learned how to ride. We did a lot of outdoor sports in the Smoky Mountains when I was a kid back in Tennessee. That’s why I was confident I could make it down the mountain.”
“You probably would have been fine without that storm.”
She nodded, and her hair caught on something—his coat zipper maybe. The soft tug of the strands released and another small shiver worked through her.
“So back to work tomorrow,” he said.
“I guess.”
“I can take you to the hospital to be checked out. Just in case,” he added.
“I’m all right, but thank you anyway.” The idea of saying goodbye to him gave her a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach, like she’d just suffered a loss. Or Owen gave her that pang. She was out a boyfriend now, and she didn’t even have a chance to tell him off. Now she had to see him again and find out why he’d done it.
A dozen scenarios moved through her mind while fighting to survive the storm. Had Owen really been about to propose and suffered cold feet? Or maybe she said something to send him packing? The worst thought by far was… did he really mean to abandon her on the mountain in a storm?
Stuff like that made TV movies on Lifetime, but was it really her boyfriend? His motive was sketchy, but she aimed to find out.
The ride down took a good two and a half hours, going at a slow pace. When they reached the road, she spotted an old truck and trailer parked there.
“That’s mine,” he said.
Her stomach churned with apprehension.
“You’ll be happy to get home.”
She didn’t respond.
“Esme?”
God, he said her name in a low rumble that spread through her entire system.
She shook herself. “I’m not that excited about answering any questions that will come.”
“You got family here?”
“No. They’re in Tennessee. But my coworkers will want to hear the story. I’m just hoping there isn’t a newspaper reporter waiting for me when I return.”
“I don’t know about that. Stokes didn’t have a newspaper when I left.” He flexed his arm around her middle, and the small movement sent a jerk to her heart.
“You haven’t lived here all the time?”
“Nah. Got out.”
Since he didn’t expand on this statement, she remained silent as they approached the truck. He reined in the horse and dismounted, then reached up for her.
Wordlessly, she slipped into his arms. Was it her imagination, or did he hold onto her a beat longer than necessary? She steadied herself, watching him move to the trailer and open the door. He led the horse inside and waved to her.
“Get in the truck and out of the wind.”
She did. In a strange man’s truck, she looked around. It was empty of all but a few coins in the cup holder. Either he’d just cleaned it out or he wasn’t a guy who personalized his vehicle. Every man she knew had a gun rack or stickers for a shooting group, Mountain Dew bottles, and Cheetos bags on the floor.
Zayden’s truck looked as if it belonged to no one.
She twisted to look out the rear window but couldn’t see him behind the trailer. So she faced forward and watched in the side mirror as he appeared. Seconds later, he climbed behind the wheel.
He gave her a glance before starting the engine. “Where am I dropping you?”
“At my apartment. I live in a rental in the old part of town.”
“All right. Holler when we get close.”
“Okay.” She released a heavy sigh.
Silence descended, and her thoughts bounced from Owen to her ordeal and skidded sideways to how she’d have to discuss everything at work.
“The house is just there. The blue one.”
He drew up in front of the place and looked at her. “You sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?”
She shook her head. “I just need a hot shower and my bed.”
Without another word, he climbed out of the truck and moved to her side before she could step out. He assisted her to the ground, a hand on her arm even though she didn’t need it.
“I didn’t even say thank you to your horse.”
A flicker of amusement crossed his handsome face. “He’ll understand.”
Looking into his eyes, she smiled. “You were great up there.”
“I did what any decent man would.”
“That isn’t true. And I don’t only mean getting me safe and warm. You said some things that made me feel better.”
His brow crinkled, and she noticed a slice through it from a scar. “What’s that?”
“You made me feel like I might not be such a loser.”
His brows shot up, and he gave her that look again—like he wanted to move in closer and put his hands on her in a very sexual way.
“You’re far from a loser, Esme.”
She nodded. “You reminded me I have worth.”
“Don’t let that bastard make you feel like a castoff. Ya hear?” The vehemence in his tone took her aback. She blinked and then reached up to put her arms around his neck, sneaking a touch of his hair to see
if it was as soft as it looked. Actually, it felt softer, like goose down.
He squeezed her back briefly and then stepped away. “Maybe I’ll see ya around. Take care of yourself.”
She nodded. He paused, looking down at her. For a heart-pounding moment, she wondered if he might kiss her, and if she wanted him to. What did that make her, when twenty-four hours before, she’d been hoping for a ring from another man?
She must have suffered some frostbite to the brain up there on that mountain.
He watched her with that hooded stare that was doing questionable things to her insides. Then he said the most perfect thing.
“If ya need me to break his legs for ya, gimme a call.”
Chapter Four
Zayden reached the gates of the ranch and rolled to a stop to look up at the wooden sign with metal letters spelling out MOON RANCH. Any passerby would see that sign and think the ranch was something special and not the source of years of pain to him and his brothers.
But it could be something, now that the old man’s dead.
His mind shot back to his talk with Mimi and how the Ute said you shouldn’t waste good land.
The problem never lay in the property all those years but rather in the management of it. Looking back, he had to shake his head in wonder at how they’d managed to keep the place at all. At thirteen, he’d taken over much of the running of it, and by sixteen had fully stepped into those boots.
In his youth, he saved the ranch. Could he again?
Did he want to stick around to see?
As he released the brake and rolled down the driveway, he mulled this over, but it wasn’t a question to be answered in a few minutes’ time. He had a lot to consider.
After seeing to the horse, he walked to the house. Silence reigned inside, and he found a note on the kitchen counter from Mimi, saying she’d gone into town for supplies with her great-nephew. Asher appeared nowhere to be found, and by this point, Zayden didn’t expect for Dane to turn up.
A sudden bone-deep weariness hit him. He’d barely slept a wink with that soft woman in his arms all night, and he was dragging. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he walked into his old bedroom and kicked off his boots. The space looked tidy, with stacks of old horse trader magazines tucked under the battered dresser. Some of them he’d stolen from the Stokes library. Sometime in his absence, Mimi had replaced the curtains, and the pale blue cloth partially covered the big window overlooking the back field.
His comforts forgotten, he wandered to the window and looked out. The land resembled a photograph, meandering right up to the base of the mountains. Even if the Moons didn’t own all that, they had the view.
The shades of slate blue and white of the mountains reminded him of his recent adventure…and then a set of sea-green eyes loomed in his mind’s eye.
With a grunt, he turned away from the view and walked into the one bathroom the entire household shared. Mimi cleaned it as well, and the fresh towels stacked on a shelf invited him to strip off his clothes and turn the shower on as hot as it could go.
When he stepped under the spray, he closed his eyes. His time with Esme lingered in the back of his mind, along with the more pressing confusion of what lay before him.
Stay or go? The question of the damn day.
He quickly scrubbed away the grime of two days on the mountain and pictured Esme in a hot bath, golden limbs beaded with water droplets and her curls springing around her face…and her damp curls between her thighs.
He slammed a mental door on that thought and stepped out of the shower onto the bathmat. After a brisk rub of the towel, he wrapped it around his waist and walked out of the bathroom in a fog of steam.
He stopped dead. “You look like shit.”
Asher reeked of booze and cheap perfume. Could it get any more cliché than that? Yeah, it could—like father like son.
“Not all of us can be fresh as a rose like you, Z.” Asher leaned heavily against the wall. By Zayden’s guess, he couldn’t stand upright for long.
“Go sleep it off, Ash. Then get a shower. I could use some help around the place.”
Asher grinned. “Takin’ over like old times?”
“Don’t know yet, but there’s things to be done, and leaving it all on Mimi ain’t fair.” He walked past Asher and through his open bedroom door. He slammed it behind him and heard a gratifying, “Goddammit,” from Asher, who was most likely nursing one hell of a headache.
Serves him right. Dumb ass.
Minutes later, tanked up with coffee and one of Mimi’s cinnamon rolls, he strode to the barn. If Mimi’s great-nephew came today, it was only to take his great-aunt to town and not do chores. With a lot to do for the horses, Zayden settled in with a pitchfork and a wheelbarrow.
The work felt good, but he couldn’t say for sure about being back on the ranch. Did he want this for himself? For the past decade he’d rarely considered what he wanted, just drifted through life. During one of his father’s lucid spells where he resolved to get off the drink, he gave Zayden some advice. Make his mark and go with his gut. He’d said a lot of other things that he’d forgotten, but those two bits stuck with him.
His gut led him astray at times, like when he’d beat up that guy on the construction team for being careless and nearly getting several of them killed, him included. After sitting in jail for a week and paying some hefty fines, on top of losing his job, he realized dear old daddy, even in his sober moments, wasn’t much good to him.
On the flip side, he’d gone with his gut instinct to circle the mountain and had found Esme. When something good came out of his actions, it pushed him to put more faith in his gut.
What was it saying right now?
The cold air in his lungs was tinged with the scents of horse and hay, and he welcomed it. When he got one stall cleared out, he sprinkled fresh bedding inside and moved to the farthest stall where a mare stood dozing.
He opened the wooden door and reached out to stroke the horse’s nose. Right away, he saw she wasn’t okay.
“C’mon, girl.” He urged her out of the stall so he could look her over better.
She came hesitantly, sluggishly. When she extended her neck downward, he suspected what was up. Quickly, he checked her nostrils and sure enough, discharge seeped out.
“Shit. You got choke.” He’d seen veterinarians address the problem, but he wasn’t confident he could on his own.
After examining her a bit more, the mare made a coughing noise, and that solidified his diagnosis.
“Dammit.” He led the horse out into the paddock and strode back to the house. An old-fashioned phone clung to the wall with a list of numbers taped beside it. The vet clinic was halfway down, and he dialed the number.
When the receptionist heard his name, she paused. “Moon?”
“Yeah. Out Evergreen Road.”
“I know where you are. It’s just that, you’re on our no-response list.”
“What the hell is a no-response list?”
“It means at some point too many bills went unpaid, and we’ve cut you off from further services.”
Dammit. He stared at the wall. Leave it to his father to fuck him over even in death.
“I can pay,” he said.
“Hold please.”
The wall in front of him had been patched more than once, after his father drove his fist through the plaster. Zayden himself had mixed the plaster and smeared it over the holes, over and over. His inexperienced attempts now were glaringly ugly, but Mimi painted over them without a word back then.
Just like everything in this goddamn place—problems were slapped with a coat of paint and ignored.
No more.
“What is the problem you need to see Dr. Cody for?” the receptionist asked, jarring him from his dark thoughts.
Dr. Cody was a new name to him, but it didn’t matter. “One of the horses is choked.”
“How long have the symptoms been going on?”
“I don’t know. She seemed
fine to me yesterday, so recent. Look, is Dr. Cody coming out or not? Because I don’t have time to give you financial proof that I can pay the bill, but I will.”
“She’ll be out to the ranch within the hour.”
“Good. Thank you,” he added before hanging up.
Great—what sort of bill was he looking at? He suddenly remembered the nice fine balled up on the floor of his truck. He’d been in Stokes all of a few days and was already in over his head. He didn’t currently have a bank account, and all the cash he had in the world was in his back pocket.
He had no choice, though. The livestock came first on a ranch, always, even if he didn’t want the responsibility.
Back in the paddock, the horse hadn’t moved, just hung its head and coughed. He got together what he thought the vet would need—a bucket of water and one of the thin plastic hoses used to put through the horse’s nose and down its throat so they could flush whatever was stuck in its esophagus.
When he heard the crunch of tires on gravel, he walked out to see who’d arrived. The unfamiliar truck could belong to Mimi’s great-nephew, but a woman wearing jeans and a barn coat got out, so he went to greet the vet.
“Dr. Cody?” he asked with a cock of his brow.
She gave him a once-over. “You must be one of the Moon brothers.”
“Zayden. I’m the oldest.”
“Sorry to hear about your father.” Her brown hair was pulled into a ponytail on her nape, and the strands fluttered in the breeze.
“I’m not,” he said for the third time since hearing about his dad.
She looked up at him. Amusement flashed in her eyes and instantly disappeared. “Show me to the horse.”
He did. She diagnosed the mare with choke and within minutes was flushing warm water through her in an attempt to free the blockage, while he lent a hand as directed.
“There it goes. The water’s moving freely now. Okay, keep her quiet for a day. Give her some hay to graze but don’t let her overeat. We need her gut to recover after not working for a while.”
He gave a nod. “Thank you for coming out, Doctor. I appreciate it.”
