Fuck. Tears built behind her eyes at the thought of what she used to think was enjoyable. The idea of a man holding her down now was terrifying. A tear pushed over her lower lid. So many things in her life would never be the same. She and Jeremiah talked about finding a new normal. She sniffed back more tears and swiped at the ones that were falling. Damn it, she needed to be stronger than this!
“Hey. Do you want to go back?” John squatted down in front of her.
“No, I want to see the baby horse.” Shae swiped at her face again. Damn it, she sounded like a pouting child.
“Well, all right then, let’s not delay any longer.” John held out his hand.
Shae hesitated again. The fear was still there, and it was strong enough to rise the bile in her stomach. She closed her eyes for several seconds, trying to gather the internal strength to reach out and place her hand in his.
“Take my hand, Shae. A small step. You’re safe.” His voice remained calm and soft. She nodded to herself, acknowledging his words. She opened her eyes and used his hand to lift off the step, moving away from the contact almost immediately upon gaining her balance.
John ambled beside her as she started toward the barn. “Danny just told me Cheeka has rejected this foal, too. We won’t breed her again, even though she throws some beautiful babies. Dancer is due to deliver soon, and we’ll see if we can get her to accept the little guy when she foals, but I won’t hold my breath. We were able to get Cheeka to stand still long enough for the colt to get the colostrum he needed. He’ll want to feed every hour or so. So, we’ll build a schedule. There will be a rotation of people taking care of him until he can be weaned.”
Shae nodded, glancing at the huge animals inside the stalls. John walked a little ahead of her, casually leading her to a smaller area where a cream-colored spindle of legs and huge brown eyes stood. John opened a people-sized gate and motioned for Shae to go in. She hobbled into the pen and stopped. The colt wasn’t any steadier on its legs than Shae was on hers, and for that reason, she felt an instant affinity for the animal.
John produced a wooden box and sat it behind her. “Sit down while I go get a bottle for him. He’s harmless, although he may come over toward you.”
Shae gave a half-hearted chuckle at the warning. She’d beaten the hell out of men three times her size. She should be able to handle a newborn horse. She heard John let himself out of the pen or whatever it was called in ranch talk. The little horse’s ears flicked, and his head stretched out toward her. Shae lifted her hand and hummed some non-threatening sounds. She could be nice to a baby. The little guy moved forward a step at a time, his spindly legs reminding her of her first attempt at walking after…
Shae pushed the thought back as she talked in a low, soft voice to the precious animal. His mane was short and sprung up from his neck. It was a little darker than his cream color as was his little tail that twitched almost as much as his ears. She continued to speak to him, encouraging him to come closer. Finally, his little head stretched as far as its neck would allow. Shae felt his warm breath on her hand seconds before a soft brush of his nose.
John held still behind Shae as the colt ventured closer. He was proud of both of them—Shae for reaching out to the animal, and the colt for being the beautiful, sensitive animal that he had been bred to be. He was going to be a beautiful line-backed dun color when he grew up. His mom might not be a good nurturer, but she did throw a beautiful and well-conformed colt.
“He likes you,” he whispered, not wanting his words to startle either of the nervous entities in front of him. Shae wiggled her fingers and the colt stepped forward again, allowing her to touch him.
“Oh, he’s so soft. Like velvet.” Shae stopped moving when the colt’s head came up and he whinnied. John laughed and entered the birthing stall with the colt’s meal.
“If you would like to feed him, you’ll need to stand.” John extended his hand and noted how quickly she was able to reach out and use him for support. It was probably due to the fact that the colt held her attention. He handed her the quart bottle with the rubber nipple on it and showed her how to hold it. “He’s been fed twice before, but we may have to help him get on the nipple.”
Shae held the bottle and John gently gripped the colt’s chin, guiding him to the formula the vet had left with them earlier in the day. He’d sent a hand down to Rapid City to get more. It wasn’t something they tended to carry up here and John wouldn’t want to try to ‘create’ his own. The colt deserved a fighting chance since his mother had rejected him. Frank had agreed when they spoke this morning, and God knew the man didn’t give a shit about the cost—it was all about the animals at the Marshall Ranch, and that was yet another reason why John loved working here.
“Oh, he’s hungry!” Shae whispered as the colt sucked greedily at the meal.
“He’s going to be spoiled. The hands all have signed up to feed him. I’ve got this feeding and the one first thing in the morning. It fit well with my other responsibilities. If you like, you can come down with me again tomorrow night. I could make us dinner after. I think the little guy really likes you.” John hoped the incentive of the colt would break Shae out of the self-contained shell that she’d been trying desperately to shed.
“I’d like that.” Shae held the now-lighter bottle with one hand and stroked the neck of the foal lightly. “What’s his name?”
John shrugged and put his hand on the animal’s withers. The animal’s muscles twitched under his palm, but he didn’t shy away. The more the colt was touched, the easier it would be to gentle him. “Haven’t really come up with anything yet. You have any suggestions?”
Shae glanced back at him and smiled. “I’d call him Velvet. He’s so soft.”
John nodded. He’d have let her name the colt Ichabod if it put a smile on the woman’s face. “Velvet it is.”
Chapter 10
John threw a fifty-pound sack onto the bed of the truck and turned to grab the next one as his ranch hand sent it sailing from the dock outside the feed store. They were in Hollister on the monthly run. He rarely came to town, preferring to send two hands, but he wanted to pick up a few things, and he needed more cat food and dog treats.
“That’s it, boss. Want to grab a bite at the diner?” Monty jumped down from the loading dock as he spoke.
“Nah, you go ahead. I need to get a few things. I’ll meet you back here in an hour.”
Monty nodded and spun on his heel toward the small diner that every one of his ranch hands loved to visit, probably because of the woman who ran it. Seemed she was one of those beautiful women who attracted men like flies. Genevieve was her name if he recalled correctly.
John headed back into the feed store to the far corner. He wanted to get a halter and a lead rope for Velvet. The colt was exceedingly gentle. They were going to halter-train and gentle him so Shae would be able to amble about with the animal after she finished feeding him—not that it would be much of a problem. Velvet was a sweet colt and loved everyone, but there was a special affinity between Shae and the little guy.
He took in the array of colors. His choice was immediate. There was a nice dark brown leather halter and lead that reminded him of Shae’s eyes. They were mesmerizing, especially when she smiled. He glanced at his watch. She had come so far in the last week. Today she was meeting with Amanda to get her hair trimmed. Jeremiah was hanging out at his house while Shae and Amanda visited at the cottage. He wanted to be there to assess Shae’s mental state. Sharp implements like scissors shouldn’t trip Shae’s emotions, but they could, so… John hoped all would go well, but he’d be there for her tonight if there were problems. He snorted to himself, Yeah, like you’re a doctor.
“I’m sorry, did our tack offend you?” A woman’s voice spun him around.
“Ah… no, sorry, I was lost in thought.” John felt the woman’s eyes roam up and down him like he was a side of beef, and that set him on his heels. He was a normal, red-blooded man, and the woman in front of him w
as the definition of blonde bombshell. He cleared his throat and turned back to the leather halter and lead, lifting them off the display hooks. “I’ll take this.”
“Nice. Do you have a filly you’re looking to halter?” The woman’s eyes traveled over his chest and shoulders. “You work out at the Marshall ranch, right?”
John felt himself blush and hated it. He motioned toward the cash register and the woman moved, albeit reluctantly. “The halter is a present for a special woman. She’ll use it on a colt.” He ignored the second question and the innuendo in the first. The less people knew about him, the better.
“Oh.” The blonde’s use of the term conveyed one hell of a lot more than the single syllable. John hated using Shae as a shield, but he had no desire to start anything with anyone. One death on his conscience was enough. Besides, what woman in her right mind would want to live a life on a ranch without the prospect of leaving?
“Cash, or do you want me to charge this to the ranch?” She looked up at him from under her lashes.
“Cash.” John pulled out a roll of bills from his front pocket and peeled off five twenties. He picked up the lead and halter and walked out.
“Hey, do you want your change?” the blonde called after him. John lifted the halter and lead rope in a wave and left the store with the distinct impression the woman was digging for a date.
He made quick work of stocking up for Cat and Sasha and dropped his purchases in the toolboxes behind the cab of his truck. He didn’t need to get shit about Cat or Sasha from Monty. John moved the truck in front of the diner and rolled down both windows, letting the early-summer breeze waft against his skin.
He glanced at his watch again, wondering how Shae was doing. She’d mentioned the trim to even up her hair while they were feeding Velvet last night. They’d fallen into a slow and predictable routine, one to which Doctor Wheeler had given his approval. Not that John had done anything. He knew that caring for the animals had made a difference to him when he arrived. It gave him somewhere to focus rather than inward. While he figured Shae had a ton of crap to deal with, she needed time outside her own head, too.
He could see Monty inside the diner tucking into his meal and was tempted to go inside and have a bite. The food was supposed to be something special.
“John. I didn’t know you were coming in today.” Chief appeared at his elbow. He barely prevented himself from jumping. Damn it, he’d lost all his situational awareness. He had the same training as the Guardian operatives who flowed through the training facility and that was something nobody needed to know.
“Yep. Needed the monthly feed run and wanted to pick up a halter for the new colt.”
“That the one that Shae has fallen in love with?”
John nodded. He wasn’t surprised Chief knew that. The ranch hands were worse gossips than the joint Catholic and Presbyterian Church Circle that met every week here in Hollister. Amanda King had been to one meeting and only one. She refused to be a part of the mudslinging, as she called it.
“How’s she doing?” Mike leaned against the door of John’s truck.
“Seems to be improving. Miss Amanda and her are talking today.”
Mike’s head swiveled toward him quickly. “That so?”
John nodded. “Not sure she’s ready, but…”
“Not up to us, is it? She’ll move as she sees fit, I guess.”
“True. Her fears… to her… they’re real, and they’re painful.” John vividly recalled the woman’s sobs the night she decided life would be better for her family without her in it.
“Don’t doubt that. She’s special. Takes a strong person to adapt to a new environment when everything they knew was stripped away from them.”
John glanced at Mike. That last comment sounded one hell of a lot like the man knew a thing or two about that road. “Yeah. I figured.” He kept the response neutral.
“Just thought you should know, all of us on the other side of the ranch are hoping she gets better. I know there are a lot of questions that Guardian would like answered.” Mike’s words crashed through the veneer of normalcy he’d been smearing over what he and Shae were doing.
“I’ve been in her shoes, or as close to her shoes as anyone could be. I understand what she is going through. When she’s ready, I’m sure she’ll answer those questions.” John leaned forward and grabbed a package of gum. He thumbed out a stick and offered it to Mike. The man took it and unwrapped it slowly.
“Once she’s back healthy, she’ll be leaving. Don’t forget that, John. Keeping you tucked away is important to us. You are important to us, and I wouldn’t want your past to find a way to catch up with you.” Mike tapped the side of the truck and turned on his heel, leaving John feeling sucker-punched. Lori’s face floated through his mind and then the picture of that fucking explosion burst into his head.
His fingers curled around the steering wheel. His grip tightened until his knuckles turned white. Mike was right because John had made a huge mistake. He’d gotten involved—personally. While he enjoyed the time he spent with Shae, he’d been burying his head in the sand. She was getting stronger. Soon, he’d need to start creating a distance. He’d talk to Jeremiah and try to figure out how to do that.
Chapter 11
Shae watched Amanda walk toward her small cottage. The guilt of what she’d been willing to do—no, what Maurice had reduced her to—still suffocated her. But Jeremiah had encouraged her to open up to meet another person on the ranch.
Shae stood back from the window out of the woman’s sight. She was beautiful. Tall, like herself, but her dark hair held a sprinkling of gray. She paused, dropped a small bag she had with her on the ground, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath before she rapped on the side of the screen door.
“Come in.”
Amanda came in and the fake smile morphed into a real one. Shae braced herself instinctively. Amanda stuttered to a stop in an awkward moment, her hand outstretched. She dropped it to her side, but the smile remained. “Hi. My name’s Amanda. My husband Frank and I wanted to come down to welcome you to our home, but we understand you’ve had a very rough time. Most of my children work for Guardian, so I have a good idea of some of the things that can happen on missions.”
Shae blinked back tears. The woman’s kind words were straightforward and didn’t hold any pity, just understanding. “Hi, I’m Shae.”
Amanda glanced over at the small couch. “Can we sit down?”
“Yeah. I’d like that.” Shae didn’t move and Amanda hesitated again, finally moving away from her. Shae pulled in a huge lungful of air when the space between her and the door was once again open.
She waited for Amanda to sit down, walked over to the kitchenette, and dragged a chair over so she could face her. Shae dropped her eyes to the floor. Even though she’d practiced this conversation a thousand times in her head, at this moment, she had no idea how to begin.
The moment stretched and Amanda finally spoke, “Doctor Wheeler is a nice man.”
Shae’s head popped up at the comment. “I guess? He’s persistent.”
Amanda’s smile flashed across her face. “I’m imagining that is a good thing.”
“Probably,” Shae admitted. She cleared her throat and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry—”
“You don’t have anything to be sorry about. I can come back as many times as it takes for you to be comfortable with me in your space. I was a hairdresser for years. I don’t really keep up with the latest trends anymore, but I’m sure I can manage a nice cut and style for you, just to even out the, uh… layers you have going. We can go outside if that would be better for you.”
“Thank you. I haven’t looked in the mirror lately, I’m sure it’s awful.”
“No, more like extremely modern.” Amanda tried to hold back a smile and a laugh. “But I can fix it. Do you want me to try?”
“Actually, yes, I’d like that and yes, please, if we can go outside? It is hard to be in small spaces with people. When
they had me…” The tears she’d been trying desperately to hold at bay crested and trailed down her cheeks unabated. Shae sniffed, her hands shaking from the emotional effort of the moment. “I think outside would be best.”
Amanda smiled and nodded to the door. “You go first. I’ll bring out a chair and a towel so you don’t get hair down your shirt. I have my scissors and a spray bottle to dampen your hair so I can cut it, but we don’t have to do anything today. I’m able to come back as often as you’d like.”
“You came prepared.”
“Well, that doctor of yours may have suggested a few things.”
“Thank you.” Shae smiled at the older woman and made a hasty exit from her small home. She drew a deep breath and held the door open for Amanda as she brought out one of the small kitchen chairs.
“Oh, let’s go over there, under the tree. The shade is heavenly. It is getting hot early this year.”
Shae bent over and picked up the small bag, walking with Amanda. Her strength was returning as was the mobility in her ankle. The more she walked, the more her ankle strengthened.
“I heard you adopted a colt.” Amanda smiled at her. “They are adorable. My horse is a sweetheart. Someday, when that little guy is big enough, we should go for a ride.”
Shae blinked and stopped walking. “I don’t know how to ride.” And she wouldn’t be here then. Sooner or later, she’d have to figure out what to do and where to go.
Amanda chuckled, “Not to worry, we have several slow, older horses that love to teach new riders how not to be nervous. One is actually named Charmin because she’s soft on the tush.”
Shae chuckled, “As in the toilet paper? Well, that is where I would need to start. But not now. I need a bit more time, I think.” Shae glanced into the small bag and saw a small pair of scissors and a spray bottle. She fought a shiver of apprehension. “I want my hair to look nice. I can tell it doesn’t.” She reached for the shorter portions that Maurice had cut away with a knife. Humiliation and degradation. He excelled in his job. She stopped. What had happened to him? Why hadn’t she asked before this? Her eyes darted around her. Was he still alive? Had he escaped?
John (Guardian Defenders Book 3) Page 8
