The Start of Something Good

by Jennifer Probst

  "Mia. I'm over at the Robin's Nest B & B in Gardiner for vacation with my niece." The lie rolled off her tongue gracefully. "Taking some time away from the city."

  "How wonderful! Ophelia will take good care of you. And now that Ethan's back, I bet the horseback-riding lessons will pick up again. He's a true horse whisperer, and we're thrilled to have him back."

  Back? Hmm, maybe this was an opportunity to get the dirt. "Yes, I bet. He was away a long time, right? About--"

  "Eight years. Came home for his mama's funeral, then left shortly after that. 'Course he always had big dreams. Never wanted to run the inn or farm like his sisters. How's his leg doing?"

  She tilted her head. Interesting. She'd suspected he walked a bit differently, as if favoring one leg over the other, but she'd been too distracted by his other annoying qualities. "Better." Mia buried her guilt and pushed on. "Shame what happened, huh?"

  Fran's face lost all traces of animation. Her brown eyes filled with a dark emotion and . . . sympathy? Pity? For annoying horse man? Even her voice changed to a seriousness that made goose bumps prickle on her skin. "It's a tragedy. After everything Ethan's gone through, he didn't deserve this. I hope he can find some peace at home. Now, let me stop my babbling and check you out. Anything else?"

  She went on pure impulse and decided to surprise Chloe with lunch. And Ethan. Maybe she should make an effort. Move past their difficult first meeting. She'd be the better person. "Actually, can you pack up a platter of turkey wraps, hummus with veggies, and the sweet potato mash? I'll need silverware and napkins, too."

  "Of course! Oh, I hope you like it. Please come back and let me know."

  "I will."

  Mia left the Market with a lighter step. It was nice to talk to another person in town and get a bit more on the mysterious Ethan. Had he been in a bad car accident? It was the only scenario that made sense. Had he been at another farm and decided to come back home? No, that wouldn't make sense. Maybe he had gotten another job and decided to leave after he hurt his leg.

  The idea of such an arrogant, powerful man hiding a physical weakness bothered her. Imagining him in pain made her stomach feel funny. Even though he pissed her off, she didn't like the idea of him hurting or dealing with the aftereffects of a bad experience. She'd had a client once who'd been in the hospital for weeks after a car wreck, and he had terrible nightmares for months.

  Why was that familiar deep clanging in her gut warning her of a mistruth? Like she was missing something big. Something more than a car crash.

  She had to dig further and find out. For now, she'd bring lunch as a peace offering and see if they could be civil.

  Mia drove back to the inn, reapplied a healthy amount of sunscreen to her face and a spritz of bug spray, and took the path toward the horse barn. She walked slow so she wouldn't trip, taking a deep breath of fresh air. Her lungs tried to rebel, but she forced more in. Maybe this wasn't so bad. All that smoke and smog and city sweat had to have a long-term effect on her health. By the end of summer, it'd be like returning from fat camp.

  The woods broke away to reveal the red barns against the magnificence of green hills and mighty mountains. Horses grazed over the land, and the hum of chatter drifted in the breeze. She walked into the barn, following the human voices, and found Chloe and John in the barn.

  They were both squeezed into a stall with a gigantic black horse. John was giving directions as Chloe rubbed a brush over the horse in circular motions. The horse's head lifted at Mia's interruption, and he or she snorted, studying her briefly before turning away in pure dismissal. Guess Wheezy was the only one who liked her around here. Who would've thought animals could be so high maintenance? Mia moved closer and cleared her throat.

  They both turned toward her. "Hi, Mia," Chloe called out. "John's showing me how to groom the horses."

  Her black-lipped smile seemed genuine. Mia smiled back, happy the girl appeared to like her servitude and wasn't miserable. She had even begun wearing full pants instead of Daisy Duke shorts. "I don't mean to interrupt, but I brought lunch for everyone. Are you allowed to take a break?"

  John grabbed a rag, wiping his fingers. "I think we can manage a break," he said with a grin. "Ethan's out in the back; I'll let him know. Chloe, why don't you grab Sam from the fields and have him join us, too."

  "Got it." She gave the horse a pat on the rear, put the brush down, and stepped out of the stall. Her purple hair was knotted and damp with sweat. Her shirt and jeans were covered in dirt, and her makeup had smudged over her face from the heat.

  But she looked . . . happy.

  Mia's curiosity peaked. She'd bet that after a few days, the girl would be miserable doing manual labor, but it seemed she was embracing the change.

  "I'll be right back," John said. "Hey, Mia, why don't you feed Clarabelle a carrot while we're gone? She deserves a treat."

  Her eyes widened. "Umm, I don't know."

  His brown eyes twinkled. "There's nothing to it. Just offer her the carrot, and she'll take it. Not scary at all."

  Clarabelle turned her massive head and waited. Did she understand the word carrot? Didn't seem like a big deal. It might be a good idea to get a bit more comfortable around the horses. John and Chloe disappeared, leaving her alone in the barn. Ignoring her rapidly pounding heart, Mia reached down and took a carrot from the bag.

  Clarabelle moved closer to the slots in the stall, pushing her nose out, sniffing wildly. She could do this. It was just a carrot. Dragging in a breath, she offered the carrot out, holding the very end so she wouldn't have to get near any lips or teeth or tongue.

  Clarabelle opened her mouth, grabbed the carrot, and took a bite. Her teeth crunched through the treat, and Mia practically laughed with the thrill of victory. She'd done it! Clarabelle reached for it again, but this time, she tugged hard, as if trying to swallow the whole thing. Mia's fingers grabbed for purchase around the slippery vegetable, and the carrot fell to the ground.

  Clarabelle regarded her with pure irritation.

  Mia stared back. "Umm, aren't you going to pick it up from the ground and finish it?"

  Clarabelle gave a disgusted snort and pawed the ground.

  Mia peered through the slots. The carrot had fallen close to the door. Did horses refuse to eat fallen vegetables? She looked around, but the barn was devoid of humans. Maybe she could just open the door, grab the carrot, and give it back to her?

  Irritated by her fear of a silly horse, she set the lunch bags down on the bench and grabbed the latch to the gate. Pulling upward, the door swung a few inches open, and she reached down for the carrot.

  Clarabelle nipped at her hair.

  With a shriek, Mia fell back, and the door swung completely open. "Hey, no touching!" she scolded. "I'm trying to get you the stupid carrot!"

  Clarabelle ignored her and began walking forward.

  "What are you doing? Go back. Go back now."

  With a swish of her tail, Clarabelle clomped calmly out of her stall and right past her, heading for the open acres behind the barn.

  Uh-oh.

  Mia blinked, watching the horse disappear around the corner, and knew she'd done something very, very wrong.

  "Heard you brought us lunch."

  The voice was a twist of sand and silk. Ethan walked into the barn with Chloe at his side. He looked half rugged cowboy, half Grizzly Adams. That massive ginger beard hugged a pair of sensual lips, but it was the only soft spot about him. Every muscled inch looked lean and mean, evident under the snug blue T-shirt and worn jeans that lovingly cupped his powerful thighs. His gaze matched his hard features as he studied her, like he was assessing her intentions of bringing lunch. Did he think she was going to poison him or something?

  "Yes. Thought I'd be nice and treat you, since I came from town."

  "I'll set it up on the picnic table," he said. "Do we need plates or silverware?"

  "No, it's all in the bag. I think I should tell you something."

  "You can tell me wh
ile we eat; I'm starving." He regarded her with grudging appreciation. "This was really nice of you."

  "No problem. Umm, Ethan, there was a bit of an incident."

  "Let's go, Chloe. You finished brushing all the horses, right?"

  "Yes, Clarabelle was the last one and--" Chloe stared at the empty barn. "Wait, where is she?"

  Ethan paused midstride. "Did John take her?"

  "No, I'm here, boss," John said behind him. "She's in her stall."

  "No, she's not."

  "Yes, she is. Mia was going to feed her carrots."

  Mia bit her lip as three pairs of eyes turned toward her. Ah, crap. "And I did. But I kind of dropped the carrot, so I had to open the door to get it, and then she kind of--well, she kind of walked off."

  Ethan's jaw clenched. "What? Where did she go?"

  Mia pointed toward the back fields. "Out there."

  Ethan muttered something under his breath and stomped past her. "Why didn't you call someone?"

  "It happened so fast. I'm sure she's not far." They raced to the edge of the barn and surveyed the fields. "Maybe she's eating hay. Or visiting a friend."

  Ethan cut her a withering glance. "No, she's a runner, and these fields aren't fenced in. They lead to the horseback-riding trails."

  "Is that bad?"

  "It's over fifty acres of property, and she could be anywhere. You do the math." He turned and motioned toward John. "Let's head out and see if she's on the south side. Grab Sam, too. Chloe, go eat and wait for me to get back."

  "Ethan, I'm--"

  Suddenly, he leaned in. She stared, fascinated by the heat in his stinging blue eyes, the clench of his jaw, the flare of his nostrils. The scent of sweat and musk and horses swirled around her in an almost animalistic energy. Feet rooted to the floor, she could only wait for him to speak.

  "I knew you'd be trouble. Five minutes and you've already cost me valuable time and lost my horse. Don't you have any respect at all for the work we do around here?"

  Her mouth fell open. "I just wanted to get the carrot!"

  "And I told you to do one thing: stay out of my barn. This isn't a petting zoo or a place you can amuse yourself when you're bored. Do us all a favor next time and get a manicure instead."

  Her head began to swivel in pure rage. "Are you kidding me?"

  "Trust me, princess. I'm not kidding anyone. From now on, there's one rule around here, and it's sacred, so I'll repeat it." His gaze pinned hers, full of masculine temper and a primitive energy that whipped around him. "Stay out of my barn."

  He marched past her, barking out orders, and within minutes, he'd mounted a pretty black horse and took off down the trail without a backward glance.

  How dare he? It had been a genuine mistake, and she'd even tried to apologize. But this man couldn't care less about good intentions or peace offerings. He'd truly shown his black soul, and she refused to spend another minute in his company ever again.

  She'd die before she spoke another word to him.

  D-I-E.

  "He's protective over the horses," Chloe finally said, breaking the awkward silence. "I could've made the same mistake. It's not your fault."

  Mia nodded, grateful for the support. It was the first nice thing the girl had offered her. "Thanks. But if he ever speaks like that to you, tell me. I'll kill him myself."

  The girl shrugged. "He's super nice to me. But you guys have been fighting since you met. Maybe you should just stay out of each other's way?"

  Mia sighed. "I've come to the same conclusion. Come on, let's go eat some lunch."

  They ate. Instead of her usual silence, Chloe opened up and chattered about what she was learning about horses and the rescue efforts at the barn. Mia realized if she kept the topics away from Chloe's father, her friends, her future, or her past, she was in the safe zone.

  Mia made a mental note to focus on horses.

  Ethan still wasn't back after lunch, so she left the men their share, cleaned up the garbage, and headed back to the inn. Maybe she'd take a nap. Or play Candy Crush. Or check up on all her clients' social media pages to make sure she wasn't missing anything. At a time she was ready and willing to dive into the glorious mess of work, no one needed her.

  She'd make sure she did one thing, though.

  She intended to tell Ethan Bishop exactly what she thought of his unacceptable behavior. She'd made an honest mistake, and that was no way to talk to a paying guest. If she were a tattletale, she'd march right up to Ophelia and complain. What if she wrote them a bad review? That would teach him.

  Still fuming, Mia counted down the hours until she could pounce.

  Chapter Seven

  Ethan got Clarabelle situated back in her stall and grabbed a water bottle. He guzzled half and poured the rest over his head. It was a scorcher today, and he was a walking sweat bomb. He craved a cold shower and even colder beer. In his bungalow. Alone.

  Harper stuck her head in the barn. "Dinner tonight at the inn. Seven thirty. Heard you had a runaway."

  He glowered. "Not tonight, but thanks. And our runaway was caused by the duchess of the manor, who probably found some way to twist the incident so I'm at fault."

  "Hmm, a woman who doesn't like you? That's kind of historic. Are your boxers in a twist?"

  He glared. "Hardly. She's not my type anyway."

  She snorted. "Convenient. How's the parolee doing?"

  "Not bad," he said grudgingly. "She listens. Her aunt is the bigger pain in the ass."

  "Oh yeah, you like her." Her hooted laughter aggravated Ethan like he was twelve again. "And you're coming to dinner. Ophelia's cooking and I don't want to be the one stuck with the dishes this time. You've been making excuses for too long."

  He groaned and rubbed his head. "I just want a beer and to not have to talk to anyone."

  "You can have two beers, and we won't force you to talk. Just grunt. It goes with your new look."

  "The beard again? Fine, I'll shave it. It's getting too hot anyway."

  "Thank God. I'll tell Ophelia you're looking forward to it." His sister disappeared, leaving him in an even fouler mood. His knee throbbed like a bitch from pushing himself. He made a note to schedule an extra PT session this week. Since he'd been back in the barn, his leg was being used in a new way, and his body was still adjusting. Maybe he'd go crazy and take an Advil with a beer. Even at the worst of the agony after the operation, he refused meds. Better to get used to the level of pain that was natural in his body and learn to live with it. Too many poor schmucks got addicted to that feeling of pain-free happiness from a bottle. He'd termed it the fake zone. He may be grumpy, but at least he was real.

  It was the last thing he had left to cling to.

  He took his time walking back to the bungalow, babying the leg a bit, and thought over the past few days with his new charge. It was weird, but he was beginning to enjoy her company. Chloe was willing to learn and didn't complain, even when he asked her to shovel manure from the main path. Of course, it was still only three days. Maybe the novelty would wear off, and she'd get bored. Still, she seemed genuinely sweet and helpful around the farm, almost as if she enjoyed helping out and being part of a team. She hadn't copped an attitude, and she seemed excited about learning how to ride. Maybe she'd just hit a bad patch in college and acted out on impulse. Ethan had seen plenty of grown men who screwed up when pushed but then made it right. He respected that type of character. Maybe Chloe had it, too.

  Wheezy bounded out of the woods and fell into step with him. The trees bent forward in protection against the sting of the sun. A squirrel scrambled across the path, holding a large nut. The wind stirred the sweet summer air. An inner peace slowly unfolded, fleeting as a bird's cry, but for a few precious moments, he savored the silence both inside and out.

  Until he saw Mia Thrush waiting on his step.

  A cloud of purpose practically floated around her. Still clad in those high-heeled sandals, a pair of white capris, and some lacy-type shirt, she looked like she shou
ld be yachting. She wore stacks of silver bracelets on her wrist, and diamond studs winked from her ears. Her arms were clasped in front of her chest while she tapped her foot with pure impatience, as if he were running late for their appointment. She caught sight of him, and those golden tigress eyes widened, taking in his disheveled appearance. Wheezy wasted no time in trotting over to give her some adoring kisses. Seemed dogs were the only animals she was safe to be around. She patted Wheezy with genuine affection, not seeming to care if he ruined her freshly pressed slacks. Ethan stopped a few feet away and narrowed his gaze. "What are you doing here?"

  She steeled her shoulders, emphasizing the thrust of her pert breasts and her tiny waist, then had the gall to give him the stink eye. "I'm here for an apology."

  A bark of laughter escaped his lips. Damn, she had spunk. "Let me get this straight. You come into my barn without permission, let a horse out of its stall, watch her disappear, and now you want an apology from me?"

  "Yes."

  "Princess, I have plenty of things to say to you, but none of them include an apology."

  "I brought you lunch as a peace offering. I was trying to meet you halfway since we're neighbors. I was trying to be nice!"

  "I never got to eat my lunch because it took me hours to find Clarabelle. I had to scour those damn woods and waste my entire afternoon because you dropped a carrot. Thank God she wasn't hurt and I was able to get her back safely."

  This was the second time she began nibbling her lip--a definite tell when she felt guilty about something. "I tried to explain and apologize, but you got all boorish and started yelling to get out of your barn."

  "I never yell. I told you very quietly to leave the barn."

  "In a threatening tone."

  He shook his head. "I bet you're an excellent PR person."

  She looked surprised at the change of subject. "Thank you, I feel like I am. I do work hard."

  "You're very good at twisting everything around like a pretzel. Bending the truth to suit your needs. No wonder Lake hired you."

  Those Bambi eyes simmered with temper. "You think you're hot shit, with your beard and your sexy body and your fake cowboy drawl, but you're just mean! You pretend to be this broody loner type because you had an accident and hurt your leg. Big frikkin' deal. That doesn't give you a right to be cranky to everyone you meet."