A Cowboy State of Mind

by Jennie Marts

  Now all she wanted was to take him in her arms and soothe the hurt she saw etched in his face. She slid her palm down his arm and took his hand, holding it tightly as she tried to pour her feelings into him.

  “Zane,” she whispered, then pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling. She didn’t know what to say, how to put into words what she was feeling.

  But she didn’t have to. He stared at her a moment, then pulled her to him, wrapping her in his arms and holding her tightly against him. She clutched his back, squeezing her arms around him as if her embrace could heal his brokenness, could mend the shattered pieces of him.

  They stood that way she wasn’t sure how long, maybe a few seconds, maybe an hour, but she didn’t want to move, didn’t want to let go. She didn’t know how long they would have stayed there if Elle hadn’t screamed their names.

  “Bryn! Zane! Help me,” she cried.

  They couldn’t see her, but Zane sprinted toward her voice, Bryn right on his heels.

  A decaying storm cellar jutted from the side of the house, its wooden doors rotted and missing a few slats. Elle was sprawled on her stomach, her arm thrust shoulder-deep through a hole in the boards. The collie paced back and forth along the doors, whining as she watched Elle.

  Bryn’s heartbeat exploded in her chest. “Elle, did you fall? Are you hurt?”

  “No, but they are,” she cried, her voice trembling as she strained to push her shoulder against the boards. “You’ve got to help me.”

  Zane sank to his knees next to Elle, his sharp gaze trying to assess the situation. “Elle, stop. Take a breath. Tell us what’s happening.”

  She pulled her arm free, ignoring the rip of her jacket as a seam caught on a splintered board, and pushed up to her knees. Her hands clawed at the boards, trying to pry them free. “I heard her crying, but the door to the cellar is locked.”

  He leaned forward and looked into the cellar then swore under his breath. “Holy hell.”

  Bryn knelt beside Zane, not sure who to help. She peered around his shoulder and into the cellar, and her breath caught in her throat. A ragged brown-and-white cattle dog lay in the dirt, her head lolling to the side, her tongue hanging from her mouth as she panted, a handful of puppies nursing from her distended stomach. She clapped a hand to her mouth. “Oh no.”

  “It’s okay,” Zane told them both. “We’ll get ’em out of there.” He stood and gently pulled Elle back from the door. Her eyes were glassy, and she couldn’t seem to tear her gaze from the hole. Her hands were shaking, and the tremors seemed to move up her arms and into her shoulders.

  Bryn stood and put an arm around her, holding on to her as much as holding her up. Zane searched the yard with a quick glance, then grabbed a length of pipe and used it as leverage to break open the slats. He pried back the door and cautiously descended the rickety steps into the cellar, brushing cobwebs away with his arm. “Can one of you shine a light down here so I can see what’s going on?”

  Bryn let go of Elle and jerked her phone from her pocket. She tapped the flashlight app on as she knelt and shined the bright beam into the hole. The walls and floor were dirt, and a row of wooden shelves lined one side. One lone can, its seal rusted and label missing, sat on the middle shelf. A musty scent, mixed with the smell of cool earth and a faint whiff of mouse droppings, filled her nose.

  Elle dropped to her knees next to Bryn, oblivious to the soil grinding into the fabric of her expensive slacks. “Pass us the puppies, then you can bring up the mama.” She reached both arms into the hole, her hands outstretched.

  Zane talked softly to the mother dog, holding his hand out for her to sniff. She tried to raise her head, but was too weak and dropped it back into the dirt. He tenderly patted her head, then gently eased two of the puppies free and passed them to Elle. “We need to hurry. This dog is in bad shape.”

  Elle took the puppies, cuddled them to her cheek for a second, then set them carefully on the ground between her and Bryn. Their eyes were closed, and they made tiny mewling sounds at being separated from the warmth of their mother. The border collie nosed between them to sniff the puppies as Elle reached down for the next two. There were five in all, two black, two brown, and the runt was a light beige.

  Zane carefully lifted the mother dog, then ascended from the cellar. Elle shrugged out of her jacket and wrapped the mother in it before taking her from Zane and nestling the dog to her chest.

  “I’ll grab that box from the front yard for the puppies,” Bryn said, scrambling to her feet and racing toward the front of the house. She wrenched the box from the recliner, dumping the last few items into the chair, and ran back to Zane. He lifted the pups into the box, and Bryn hurried with it to the truck. Elle was right behind her, cradling the mother dog and cooing assurances to her. Zane found a bottle of water in the cab and poured some into his hand, holding it under the mother dog’s snout as he tried to coax her to take a drink. She was still panting, but she weakly lapped a few sips into her mouth.

  Zane passed Elle the water bottle. “That’s good that she’s drinking. See if you can get her to sip a little more on the way back.”

  They piled into the truck, Bryn in the middle with the box of puppies on her lap. “I’ll call Brody and see if he can meet us at the farm. The puppies look in pretty good shape. It’s the mama we’ve got to worry about. She’s obviously been giving everything she has to these babies.”

  “She must have crawled down there to have the pups, then was too weak to crawl out,” Zane said, his eyes glued to the road as he tried to avoid as many ruts as he could. “I think she’ll be okay once we get some fluids and some food into her.”

  Bryn called the vet clinic and left a message with the receptionist, who told her the doctor was out on a call but assured her she’d have him get in touch soon. Elle had gotten the mama dog to drink a little more water, and she leaned her head close to the box of her babies.

  A shiver ran through Bryn as she clutched the box of puppies. What kind of person would leave their animals behind? Who would abandon the ones that counted on their care? The sudden flashback to the image of her mom driving away after she’d dropped her and her brother off at her grandparents’ farm returned and had pain tearing at her chest. She swallowed, her voice hoarse as she told Zane, “We can’t let her die. Her puppies need her.”

  His hands clenched the wheel as he maneuvered the truck and the trailer onto the highway, but he broke one hand free and covered hers. “We won’t. She’s gonna be okay.”

  She twined her fingers through his, clasping his hand tightly as she took assurance from his fierce declaration.

  Twelve minutes later, they pulled into the farm, and Bryn was relieved to see Brody’s truck in the driveway. Zane stopped the truck, and Elle practically fell out of the cab trying to get the dog to the vet.

  Brody had the long cabinet door on the back of the truck open, and Elle carefully laid the dog on the makeshift examining table. He had already started a cursory exam by the time Bryn reached him and set the box of puppies on the table by their mother.

  “Thanks for coming,” she told him. “You got here fast.”

  “I was already on a call out this way and thought I’d stop to check in on the new horse. I wasn’t expecting this.” He pressed a stethoscope to the dog’s chest, then her stomach.

  “Is she going to be okay?”

  “I think so. She looks pretty malnourished. Her coat’s dull, but her gums are still pinkish, and she doesn’t seem to be in any abdominal pain. Those are both good signs. She probably looks worse than she is because the puppies are taking all her nutrients and energy. Let’s see if she can eat.” He pulled out a sample-size can of dog food and peeled back the lid. Scooping some onto his fingers, he held it to the dog’s mouth. “This stuff is steak-flavored and smells good enough for a human to eat. Most dogs lap it up.”

  The mother dog lifte
d her head, her tongue darting out to lick the food from his fingers. “Good dog.” He dumped the rest into a dish and the dog greedily gulped it down while he looked over the puppies. “Let’s give that a few minutes to settle, then you can give her some more. The pups look in good shape. I’ll give them all a dewormer, and I’ll leave you some flea shampoo. I’d probably give them all a bath, especially since they’re going to be around your other dog. And if you want to bring them into the house.”

  “Of course I’m bringing them into the house. I’m not going to leave them in the barn.”

  He shrugged. “Plenty of dogs survive outside. And this one looks like she’s been living outside for a while now.” He squinted at Elle, who had her hand on the dog’s side and was staring down at it, but her eyes seemed a little glassy, as if she were really staring at something else entirely. He rested a hand lightly on her arm. “She’s going to be okay,” he told her, his voice gentle.

  Elle blinked and moved her head to look at the man’s hand on her arm.

  He gave it a gentle squeeze, then pulled his hand back. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Brody Tate.”

  Her gaze moved from her arm up to his eyes. “Sorry, I was just caught up in the dog and making sure she was okay. Thank you for taking care of her. I’m Elle Brooks, a friend of Bryn’s.”

  Bryn’s heart warmed at Elle introducing herself as her friend. She wasn’t sure the other woman had many. The waitress had never seen her in the diner with a companion.

  “I’m happy to do it,” Brody said. “You good keeping an eye on her while I check out the horse?”

  Bryn had almost forgotten about the horse in all the drama over the half-starved dog. So much had happened in the short time they’d been at the dilapidated farm. She filled Brody in on the injuries of the horse as they walked across the driveway and wasn’t entirely surprised to see Zane had already unloaded the gray and taken him into the barn. He’d also filled a tub with water and given him some fresh hay. The stallion was working his way through a pile of sweet feed Zane must have poured into the trough, and Zane was brushing down his haunches as she and Brody approached.

  “This is the horse they called about,” Brody confirmed, running a hand over the horse’s head and pulling his lips back to check his teeth. He worked his hands over the horse’s body in a cursory exam.

  “That’s good,” Zane said. “Otherwise, we just horse-napped someone else’s property.”

  Bryn shook her head. “This horse may have been someone’s property at one time, but they gave up that right when they abandoned it. You should have seen the squalor of that place.”

  “I’ve heard it was pretty bad.” He patted the horse’s neck. “But this guy looks okay. Except for the leg and the bite marks. Looks like some coyotes got to him.”

  “That’s what Zane said.”

  “He’s skinny, but he must have found some grass to eat because he doesn’t look as bad as the last one you brought in. And the leg looks worse than it is. This horse got lucky. There doesn’t appear to be any tendon damage. I’ll wrap it and give him an injection of antibiotics and some pain meds, and I’ll think he’ll be fine.”

  Bryn let out a breath. “That’s a relief.”

  “He’s gonna need some attention over the next few weeks. Make sure he’s up and moving. You want to maintain mobility so the scar tissue doesn’t create a stricture. But he should come out of this just fine.”

  “Thanks so much for calling us about him. And for showing up like this. You’re a real lifesaver.”

  “Yeah, thanks, Doc,” Zane muttered. His lips formed a scowl, and his shoulders tensed as he turned away and busied himself with picking up the grooming tools and taking them back to the tack room. What’s that all about?

  What happened to the sweet guy who was just holding her hand in the truck?

  Her brow furrowed, but she didn’t know what to say. Instead, she turned to Brody. “I didn’t know we’d end up with a box of puppies too.”

  Brody chuckled. “I didn’t either. They were just a bonus, I guess. But thanks for taking the horse. For taking all of them. You have a good heart.”

  She jumped as Zane dropped the tools on the counter. She could hear him putting them back in their places, but it sounded like he was jamming the tools against the wall.

  He came out a moment later and tipped his head, his hat now pulled low over his face. “It looks like you’re all set with the horse. I’m gonna take off, get out of your way.”

  He was leaving? Why? “Wait. You don’t have to go.”

  “I need to head back and help Logan with the evening chores. And Brody can take care of whatever you need.”

  A hard knot formed in her chest as she feared that what she might need was him.

  “You keep this up, you’re going to become a full-time rescue ranch.”

  She laughed but worried she might be the one who needed to be rescued…from him.

  Chapter 7

  Zane exhaled a disgusted breath as he drove up Bryn’s driveway the next afternoon. He’d sworn he’d stay away today. Just like he’d sworn he’d stay away the day before, then ended up offering her a ride home from the diner. Apparently he needed to work on his swearing, because so far, none of them had stuck.

  He’d made himself leave the night before—forced his feet to carry him to his truck. His heart might be damaged, but it knew that Brody was a better man for Bryn. He just needed to get out of the way and let that happen.

  So how was his driving up to the house with a cab full of dog food and sweet feed helping that? It wasn’t. But at least he had the animals as an excuse. It made perfect sense that he’d be stopping by to check on the horses and the dogs. It was completely logical that he’d picked up supplies for her—he’d been at the feed store anyway.

  Beauty was in the corral, already looking healthier even after only a few days. She trotted toward him as he got out of the truck, and he crossed the yard to give her a sugar cube. The gray horse must have smelled the sugar cube because he plodded over for one too. The border collie had followed him from the truck and sniffed at the horses’ feet.

  A compact blue car that Zane didn’t recognize sat in the driveway. Not that he knew every car in town, but he knew quite a few. He’d been trained to be observant. The front screen door slammed, and Bryn and a tall, dark-haired woman stepped out onto the porch.

  Bryn waved and flashed him a broad grin. An embarrassingly sappy feeling of warmth bloomed in his chest. Damn. Why did Bryn make him feel like a pubescent boy who got flustered and shy around pretty girls? He hadn’t felt flustered and shy around a woman in years.

  That’s because you haven’t cared about what one thought of you in years, his subconscious whispered. He was trying not to care about what this one thought either. But he appeared to be failing at his efforts.

  “Hey, Zane,” Bryn said, her steps light as she practically skipped down the steps. She leaned down to rub the collie’s ears. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  He shrugged as he sauntered toward them. “I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d check on the animals.” And bring you a wheelbarrow full of food.

  Her eyes dimmed for just a second, then she regained her bright expression as she gestured toward the other woman. “Do you know Tessa Kane? She dates Mason James.”

  He nodded and smiled at the dark-haired woman. “Sure. How you doin’, Tess?” Now that Rockford, the oldest James brother, and Quinn, the youngest Rivers sister, were married, the Triple J Ranch and Rivers Gulch often joined forces for ranching activities or shared meals. Even though he tried to avoid the social gatherings, Logan usually talked Zane into at least grabbing a plate of food. He’d met Tess at several of those occasions, and he liked her. She was funny and sarcastic and gave as good as she got with the rowdy James brothers.

  “I’m good,” Tess answered. “And even better now
that you’re here.”

  He narrowed his eyes, instantly suspicious of anyone claiming to want to be around him. Not that he was a total antisocial asshole, but most people didn’t seek out conversation with folks who gave off the loner vibe as strongly as he did. Although Tess had never shied away from him. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

  “I’ve been wanting to talk to you. I’m doing a human interest story on Bryn and the horse the two of you rescued. That was quite an act of kindness.” Tess was a reporter for a popular Colorado-living magazine.

  “You don’t need to talk to me. That was all Bryn. She’s the kind one.”

  Tess raised an eyebrow but ignored his comment. Which surprised him a little, since she didn’t often back off of giving him a hard time. In fact, she’d often plunked down next to him at family gatherings and struck up conversations with wildly personal questions like How’s your day going?

  “I was excited to come over and get the story of you- all rescuing one horse,” she told him. “But I got a surprise. Bryn said you-all also saved another horse and a handful of starving puppies.”

  “We were a little surprised about that too.” He snuck a small grin at Bryn, as if sharing a private joke. Although the joke was on her; she was the one now stuck with two horses and six extra dogs.

  “Well, now that you’re here, I’d love to get some photos of you and Bryn with the horses. And the puppies. If my article is accompanied by a swoony picture of a hot cowboy holding a handful of puppies, the magazine will sell out every copy.”

  His smile fell. “You’re going to have to look somewhere else then because nobody around here fits that description.” He gestured to the truck. “Look, I’m just dropping off some dog food and some grain for the horses. I think it’s great you’re doing a story on Bryn, but you can leave me out of it. Take all the pictures you want, but I don’t want to be in any of them.”

  Tess studied him for a moment, then shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She turned to Bryn. “I already got some great shots of the puppies. But I’d love a few of you with the horses.”