China’s eyes couldn’t have been more radiant, and Maverick had to agree. Gorgeous had thrown a beauty. The foal at her feet was as white as she was. Like mother, like daughter. Both absolutely—gorgeous.
“She threw a filly?” Leezel asked sharply. “Shit. That ain’t no good.”
China kept grinning. “I don’t know why you’d say that. She’s perfect, Leezel. Look at her. Not a dark spot on her that I can see.”
Leezel stretched and yawned loudly. “So what you wanna do, Mav honey? You gonna stay here and watch nothing, or you wanna celebrate over a bottle of cheap beer, since that’s all Sis buys? Course we could always do something else if you’re interested in a really good time.”
China didn’t give him a chance to answer the suggestive invitation. “Look at her. Isn’t she beautiful, Leezel?”
“Yeah. Yeah. You seen one horse, you seen ’em all.” She took a step toward the door instead of looking at the foal. “I’m real tired after all this drama. It’s just a horse. Big deal.”
He couldn’t believe his ears. Just another horse? No way. This little gal was special. She was Gorgeous’s daughter. Maverick made the mistake of glancing up. Leezel had stopped at the barn door, her hands smoothing suggestively down her waist and over her backside. She stuck her bottom lip out like a petulant child that always got her way. Not tonight.
He stifled the urge to throw up in his mouth. He had seen a lot of crap on his overseas tours, but she had the market on skanky locked up good and tight.
“Well?” Leezel pouted. “You ready or what?”
He shook his head, hiding his disgust at her continual bawdy lines of bullshit. Yeah, he was ready all right—for her to be gone.
“What’s next?” he asked China.
She hadn’t moved out of the hay. The foal still lay draped over her lap and the smile of a thousand suns brightened her face. “Third stage. Gorgeous needs to drop the placenta. You can go. I’ll stay. I don’t mind.”
Maverick hunkered down to wait. “How long does that take?”
“Aw, come on. You don’t want to wait for that, Mav. It’s disgusting. Could be a couple minutes or it could be hours.” For some reason, Leezel hadn’t left. “It’s just twenty pounds of—”
Whoosh. The placenta dropped into the hay behind Gorgeous. Maverick didn’t even want to look. It sounded bad enough. He didn’t need to see it.
Leezel giggled. “What’d I say? Didn’t I just tell you it could take a couple minutes? Do I know this horse, or what?”
He didn’t respond. No reason to. The woman was hard angles and brass tacks. Depressing as hell. The sound of her voice assaulted his nerves like nails scratching a chalkboard. Like a toothache on Sunday when dentist offices were closed.
Gorgeous nipped his cap off and tugged his hair as if she needed a snack after all her hard work.
“Hey.” He smoothed his hand over the horse’s friendly face, and pushed her prehensile lips away. “I get it. You did a good job, but go look at your pretty baby girl and stop eating my hair.”
He caught the look on China’s face. A wave of heat flushed his face. Yeah. Gorgeous liked him. Maybe China, too.
And maybe he didn’t mind.
Chapter Eight
China stayed with Gorgeous and her newborn for the next hour. Mostly she wanted to be there when the foal took her first step. This was the golden hour. The world seemed perfect. One angel slept in her bed and another in the barn. Could another night be so grand? So legendary? Hardly. Miracles like tonight’s didn’t happen often enough.
Besides, Maverick had already cleaned the stall and settled cross-legged beside her, his elbows on his knees, keeping silent vigil at her side. Another miracle. He had turned from the leaving kind of guy into the very attentive family kind of guy, and she liked it. A lot. His willingness to stay and help lent her a kind of quiet strength she hadn’t known since her father passed away. Magic filled the barn again, right up to the rafters. It seemed full of peace, the way a good barn should be.
Unfortunately, Leezel stayed, too. She had commandeered Maverick’s bedroll as if she had a right to it. She sprawled across it like a stray cat, her long legs tanned, shaved and ready for action, and her red heels on display. That was Leezel through and through. Up for anything.
“The baby horse isn’t eating, yet,” Maverick said, still in the middle of his crash course on equine basics. “Shouldn’t he be—”
“She’s not a baby horse, Mav honey,” Leezel said. ”She’s a foal. If she’d been male like she was supposed to be, she would be a colt. When she gets older she’ll be called a filly. Anyway, most foals don’t nurse right away. You’ve been watching too much Discovery Channel.”
His left brow spiked. Something flittered through his dark eyes. China stifled a smile. He might not say much with his mouth, but those sexy eyes were easy to read. For whatever reason, she and he were on the same wavelength. Another miracle of the barn?
Leezel rambled on, impressing no one but herself. “Sometimes they don’t eat at all. Then you gotta take over for their mama and wet nurse ’em.”
Maverick looked down between his knees and outright grinned. China pursed her lips before they blossomed into a smile. Apparently, he and she watched a different Discovery Channel than Leezel.
China glanced over her shoulder at her sister, still flat on her back on Maverick’s bedroll and admiring her nails. “Umm, are you sure you meant wet nurse? Don’t you mean—?”
“What did I just say? Wet. Nurse. With gallon-sized baby bottles, smelly formula and all that crap. Don’t you remember? Shit. You even milked a mare that time.”
China kept her voice as steady as possible. “I remember, but a wet nurse is a woman who breastfeeds another woman’s child. You probably meant—”
“Shit! I know what I meant!” Leezel bolted upright. “What’s the matter with you? Can’t you hear with all those goo-goo eyes you been making at the hired help? Why don’t you listen for once?”
China stopped talking. It didn’t matter what she said or did. This was just another in a long line of stupid arguments with her sister. She gathered the foal into her arms and wished her sister far, far away.
Leezel jumped to her feet. Hostility radiated off of her. The red polish on her nails flashed under the overhead lights as if sparks might fly from her fingers next. Or her dancing shoes. “You always think you’re so smart, don’t you? Wet nursing is what you hafta do when you’re stuck with a foal whose mother can’t stand to look at her!”
Maverick kept his head down, but China couldn’t. Leezel’s revealing outburst shocked her. They stared at each other, and China didn’t like what she saw. Leezel stood there with her high-heeled feet spread and her hands fisted at her side. She had gotten agitated beyond anything this ridiculous argument merited, but that chilly declaration—stuck with a foal whose mother couldn’t stand to look at her?
My God. She means Kyrie.
China offered her a way out. “You can stay here for as long as you need to, Leezel. You know that. I’ll gladly help you raise Kyrie. Please. It would be like old times again, and we could—”
“Why the hell would I ever stay here? You’re such a stupid bitch. Always have been. God, I hate you almost as much as I hate this place.” She stomped out the barn door and slammed it behind her.
The gentleman beside her kept looking at the straw, more interested in the floor than the girl fight, but he had heard it all, and now he knew how things truly stood at the Wild Wolf.
China closed her eyes to contain the threatening torrent. She had tried for years to pull Leezel back to the ranch, and every time it ended the same. Screaming at each other. Name calling. Lies and insinuations on Leezel’s part. Missing change and small items from the house. The screen door slamming. Then months of silence.
Kyrie deserves so much better. Hell. We all do.
“You milked a mare?”
She gulped, needing to switch gears and let the hurt go. Again. “Yes,
umm, my black mare, Minnie, rejected her first foal. It happens. A baby needs its mother’s colostrum in the first twelve hours, so I did what I had to do. That’s all.”
“The foal live?”
She stroked the innocent in her arms, wishing human beings were as easy to get along with as horses. “It’s no big deal. New mares get scared sometimes, just like human mothers. I gave Minnie a shot to help her milk drop. She was fine after that.”
“You ever lose one?”
She glanced at the door, aching for the tender child sound asleep in her bed. “Not yet.”
“Where’s the girl?”
“You mean Kyrie?” His probing question startled her. China hoped with all her heart she hadn’t triggered Leezel’s vindictive side. It didn’t take much. “She’s sleeping in my room tonight, unless my sister decides to pay me back and makes her move. I’d better go check. Sorry you had to hear that.”
He didn’t answer, not like she expected him to. She would’ve left right then and there to check on Kyrie, but Gorgeous whinnied, and up the foal scrambled on shaky, uncertain legs.
China scooted out of her way before the little thing could stumble over her boots.
The foal kissed the floor with her nose once, trembling while she figured out the logistics of four extra-long legs and a heavy head. With one more hopping, little bounce, she planted all four hooves. She still bobbed and weaved back and forth, but this little girl got the hang of standing in record time.
The night was complete. Not perfect anymore, not with Leezel’s ugly declaration, but good enough. China couldn’t expect more than a healthy foal, a happy mare and her darling niece in her bed for the night. Hopefully, Leezel would go after the rest of the beer and leave Kyrie alone.
China scrambled to her feet, dusting the butt of her jeans as she sighed a deep breath of relief. The foal stalked through the hay to Gorgeous and nuzzled under her mother’s belly. And Maverick smiled, another pleasant way to end a long day. There might just be hope for him after all.
“Looks like she knows her way around.” Maverick pushed up from the floor and stretched, arching his back, his hands to his hips.
Oh. My. Gosh. Her heart thumped extra hard, and then faltered. Skipped a beat. Or three.
How had she not noticed this man up on the hillside the way she noticed him now? Wide, broad shoulders that led to a narrow waist, his plaid shirt neatly tucked into denims and a belt, slender hips that led to long legs. Work boots. He had cleaned up good.
“What’s her name?”
China paused. She had already chosen a very proper name for registration. If a female, Gypsy Riot. For a male, Diligence Dream. But now she hesitated. The night begged further consideration from this gentleman of very few words. “I’m not sure. What sounds good to you?”
Dark eyes struck her with their intensity. “I’ve learned a lot today,” he admitted quietly. “If she were mine, I’d name her China Love.”
She stared at his mouth. How could something so sweet come from a man so taciturn and moody? The crazy thing in her chest accelerated in the quiet hush of the barn. She could’ve thrown her arms around him and kissed him on the spot, but then he spoiled it. “She’s your horse. Name her whatever you want.”
He slapped his ball cap against his thigh, pinched the brim and latched it over his forehead as if he had locked himself up for the night. He dropped to his butt on his bedroll and pulled the brim over his face.
Her heart stuttered, threw a rod and puttered back to slower-than-dirt school zone speed. He puzzled the heck out of her, smiling one moment, but barricading himself behind the brim of that darn cap the next.
China latched the stall gate and turned the light off. Despite his indifference, she liked his words. Maverick Carson wasn’t the gruff guy she had met on the hillside. Not anymore. He might want to be, but he had blown his stone-cold cover to kingdom come right there in her magical barn. He’d changed the instant he decided to stay and see this thing through.
The trick was on him. China Love it was.
Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Mr. Crabby Carson.
Chapter Nine
Maverick couldn’t sleep.
The barn was filled with too much peace. And joy.
After China left, he rolled to his side on his bedroll, propped his head on his elbow and flipped on his penlight. The miracle he had just witnessed had him pumped too full of adrenaline to go to sleep, only this adrenaline rush felt good. His head didn’t pound with it like it did after those get-the-hell-out-of-there jolts before overseas battles and firefights. The barn seemed full of energy, a pleasant buzz that kept his brain working overtime.
Life. That’s what it was. A squeaky, clean life had just come to be right here in this very barn. Purity and perfection, the ultimate gift of the universe. To him of all people. Damned if he didn’t think of his kid brother. Darrell would’ve loved something like this. Crazy kid.
Gorgeous stood over her foal, the perfect picture of motherhood. The mare seemed to have recovered from the trauma of the whole ‘giving birth’ experience. The foal mastered those stilt-like legs as quickly as her mother forgot the pains of labor. Curiosity got the best of the baby. She approached him slowly, testing the air in his direction.
He rolled to his butt, cross-legged, his elbows on his knees, and let the foal get acquainted.
Gorgeous didn’t seem to care what her offspring did. She dozed while the still damp baby headed toward him.
“Come on, China Love. You can do it,” he murmured quietly. China might not use the name, but he intended to. At least, for the night.
With another long-necked step, she allowed his hands on her nose. Then her face. While he smoothed his fingers up her snout and behind her ears, she nuzzled a path over his head, down his neck and into his shirt collar, huffing moist breaths all the way. She had the softest touch. Gentle. Furry. Warm. He shivered. Goosebumps lifted across his shoulders and up his neck. He had never been kissed or tasted by a horse before.
By then she stood over him with her tent-pole legs, her velvet ears twitching as much as her nose and lips. Without a warning, her legs buckled. Down she went with a thump and there he was, sitting in a big old barn with a lapful of one tired, brand-new baby horse.
It didn’t seem to bother her where she’d landed, but it humbled him. A tear trickled down his cheek. He had thought himself a failure for so long, the man who’d let his brother die, then left his body behind in the ultimate betrayal. Now there he was, somehow good enough to be blessed with the trust of a tiny creature fresh from Heaven. Pure and innocent and damned near perfect.
The grace of her choosing him lightened the remorse in his heart. Just a little. Just enough that he reached for the guitar by his bedroll.
Maverick pulled it clear of its sturdy case and hugged it against the baby already in his lap. An old cowboy song came to mind. China Love didn’t seem upset by the racket, so he strummed a few bars and plunked a few chords just to warm it up in case. It never hurt to find out what a lady liked before a guy let rip a lightning charge of Jimmy Hendrix or the drinking songs of George Jones.
An easier song rolled out of his heart, a simple thing about little baby ducks, old pickup trucks and rain. Should’ve been about baby horses, but he didn’t have one in his repertoire. God, the music matched the mood of the barn. It was good to sing again.
He plunked a few more chords, trying to finish the song he had started miles ago for his brother. It didn’t gel. The harmonics didn’t feel quite right. He gave it another shot, hoping for inspiration.
They say a man is not supposed to cry.
He’s s’posed to tough it out, man up, always show a clear, dry eye.
They say buck up, that’s life, sure sorry, son, and lots of other crap.
There’s just one problem.
You’re still gone.
I’m still here...
They say a man is made to do hard tasks.
Go to war. Put down dogs. Do w
hatever your country asks.
They say be brave, be strong, be all that you can be.
There’s just one problem.
You’re still gone.
I’m still here...
I watched you fall. I saw you leave.
And I’m left standing here where I don’t want to be.
I ain’t no hero. I ain’t no man.
I’m next to nothing without you
And like hell I understand...
The last word whined out of him. God, no matter how much he worked this piece of shit song, he couldn’t make it work. He hit the face of his guitar, angry all over again.
Damned song! Damned broken, messed-up world!
The foal bolted out of his lap, nearly taking the instrument with her.
Maverick reached after her but only caught the brush of her stubby tail as she scampered back to the safety of her mama. He repented instantly. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’ve just been working out some, umm, things. Damn it, baby. I’m sure sorry.”
Here I am telling a horse what’s wrong in my head, like I even know. I suck. That’s all. I just plain suck.
Swallowing hard, he strummed a sweeter lullaby. Mellow chords filled the barn with peace again. He closed his eyes and let the rage in his heart ease back to simmer with the childhood tune.
It didn’t work. His sweet China Love stayed her distance, but he kept trying. When Gorgeous nudged his head with her nose, he took the hint. He had spoiled the concert and the mood, the last thing he wanted to do. The barn had deflated. Or something. All the glow vanished. There he was. Sitting in the dark again.
Pfftt.
The truth was he had been running on empty, going on two years. He could even remember the day it began—the day his guys brought Darrell’s body back to camp.
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