A Cowboy's Angel

by Pamela Britton

  “I’m really glad you agreed to this. With my new work schedule I wasn’t certain how I’d fit Dasher’s therapy into the mix. This will make things much easier.”

  “How have you been?”

  “Fine, thanks.” She went to the back of his trailer and unlatched the door. Dasher nickered, hooves thumping on the aluminum floor as he danced around in anticipation. “How’s Summer?”

  She looked back in time to catch his expression of frustration. “The special shoes haven’t helped.”

  She swung the door open. The pine-laden scent of shavings filled the air, but she paused for a moment, disappointed on his behalf. She’d suggested Dr. Saffer’s solution as a kind of Hail Mary, something to try before they started sticking needles in her foot.

  “I guess we’ll need to inject her, then.”

  When she glanced back, she admitted with his cowboy hat on he’d looked like one of those modeling photos she’d seen on Facebook, the ones where the man was supposed to be a cowboy but was probably a UPS driver in real life. Not Zach. He looked pure country and, damn it, she couldn’t stop thinking about what it’d been like to have him kiss her. That had her rushing inside the trailer and doing something she would never have done under normal circumstances: she began to unload the horse without his permission. Dasher, injured leg wrapped, craned his neck to look around at her.

  “What are you doing?” He jumped inside, too. “Let me do that.”

  She stepped out of his reach, but their hands still brushed and all she could do was close her eyes. She’d thought a couple days away from him would dull the memories of their night together. Honestly, she’d fervently prayed that would be the case. Clearly not. Being near him brought it all back.

  “This way.” She turned away before he caught a glimpse in her eyes of what she was thinking.

  Dasher unloaded easily, his injury completely unnoticeable, she observed with a critical eye. Focusing on the horse was good. It helped get her mind off Zach and the wickedly disturbing memory she had of him telling her, Don’t move.

  She found herself standing in the middle of a barn aisle without remembering how she got there. Stupid. “Um, yeah, over here.” They actually had to backtrack. “Sorry, I’m still learning all the stall numbers.”

  She didn’t dare look at him in the eye as she opened the stall door. “We have security cameras everywhere, so no need to worry about anyone trying to steal him. Someone is always watching.”

  He turned Dasher loose. The two of them watched him for a moment before Zach turned away. He paused in front of her and suddenly Mariah’s heart skittered across her ribs.

  “I’ve missed you.”

  She found herself staring at the lead rope in his hands. It was red and white, the colors twisted together like a candy cane. “Zach.”

  “I know it’s only been two days, but it’s felt like longer.”

  Her heart had resumed beating but at a far faster pace than before and from nowhere she heard herself say, “This is crazy.”

  “I know.”

  “It can’t possibly work out.”

  “We can at least try.”

  “What would we tell people?”

  “Who cares? It’s none of their business.”

  “I would care.”

  “Why?”

  She swallowed because she honestly didn’t have an answer for that.

  “Look, I’m going to pick you up at six tonight, and don’t tell me you’re working. I already checked with the girl up front and I know you’re not on call tonight and that you get off work at four.”

  She would have to have a talk with Erin.

  “Don’t get mad. I want to take you someplace completely unrelated to horses or the racing industry. We’re just going to be two people, a man and a woman getting to know each other, nothing more.”

  She scanned his eyes with her own. It was a bad idea. Someone might see, but then his words came back to her.

  Who cares?

  “You don’t know where I live.”

  “Actually, I do. When Natalie picked up Dandy, she told me you live at her place.”

  She still wasn’t convinced, but Zach lowered his head, peering deep into her eyes and saying, “Please. Let’s just give this a try. One date. No talking about racehorses. No discussing animal welfare. No worrying about the future. I like you, Mariah. I want to get to know you better.”

  His whole body had gone still while he waited for her answer. She’d gone still, too. No. That wasn’t exactly true. Inside, everything shifted and tumbled end over end.

  I like you.

  She liked him, too.

  Above their heads the loudspeaker came to life. Someone requested she pick up line one.

  “Six o’clock.”

  And then she ran to get the phone.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Nerves.

  They attacked his stomach and made his hands shake like someone with a caffeine addiction as he drove toward Mariah’s home. Zach called himself ridiculous and, when that didn’t work, tried to analyze why being with Mariah made him feel things, strange things, things he’d tried so hard not to feel over the years.

  She made him want to settle down.

  That was crazy. Absolutely nuts because he’d told himself he would never get married, not after watching what his mom did to his dad. And yet here he was. And she was an animal-rights activist. The founder of CEASE.

  Uptown Farms wasn’t at all what he’d expected. Given Natalie Goodman’s down-to-earth attitude, he’d expected a simple facility, something small and utilitarian. What he saw instead was a state-of-the-art facility that would have rivaled a farm in Kentucky. Irrigated pastures and white rail fences. Huge covered arena to his left. Another sand arena to his right, one with jumps in it, and straight ahead a massive barn that had to have at least twenty-four stalls, maybe even thirty, with a steeple roof and an extra-wide entrance.

  Mariah lived behind the barn, but he pulled up to the parking area in front and stopped his truck next to a small car—one of those electric doohickeys that always reminded him of a giant Air Jordan. He’d been told Dandy was doing great, but he’d still like to see for himself. No matter what Mariah might think, he hated to let his horses go. They were like his kids. He watched them drop as babies, broke them to halter and, when the time came, rode them first.

  “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the party crasher.”

  He recognized the voice, but only when he spotted the short black hair and pixielike face did he put a name to it. Jillian. The animal communicator who’d given him such a hard time at the CEASE meeting.

  “Doctor Dolittle,” he said with a smile.

  She smirked, hands on her breeches-clad hips. “You slumming it tonight?”

  Clearly, she rode English, judging by her breeches and boots and dark blue rugby shirt. “I’m here to pick up Mariah.” He tried to project friendliness. “We’re going on a date.”

  She didn’t bother to hide her disdain. “Great.”

  He almost let the comment pass...almost. “You mind me asking why you don’t like me?”

  She narrowed her blue eyes. “Let’s just say I don’t trust your motives.”

  It took him a moment to follow her thinking. “You believe I’m using her?”

  “I think you and your racing buddies would love to bring Mariah to heel.”

  He almost laughed. “Have you seen what happens when you tell Mariah what to do? I doubt anybody could bring her to heel.”

  Jillian didn’t answer. Zach decided to change the subject. “Do you know which stall my horse is in?”

  She still stared. Zach wondered if she would answer, but then she jerked her chin to the left.

  “Third one on the right.”

 
; She climbed into her basketball-shoe car before he could say another word.

  “Well, that went well, didn’t it, buddy?” he asked Dandy a few minutes later. “Think I really charmed her, huh?”

  “Charmed who?”

  Mariah had come up behind him without him noticing, and Zach felt oddly reluctant to face her. When he did, the strange feeling in his stomach intensified. She wore her hair down long and loose—his favorite way—a white blouse hanging partially off her shoulders. He loved that she still wore her jeans and boots. Actually, that fit in with his plan perfectly.

  “Your friend Jillian.”

  Mariah frowned. “Yeah. She’s a tough nut to crack.” She glanced inside the stall. “He looks happy, doesn’t he?”

  Change of subject. Probably a good idea. “He does.”

  “Natalie took him over fences this morning. She told me he’s cute. Knees-to-his-eyebrows kind of cute. She was thrilled. Pretty sure her client will be making you an offer.”

  “That’s great.” He could use the money. Every month was a struggle. If only Dasher hadn’t injured himself. He’d been his best hope to secure the future of the Triple J Racing Stable. Now? Who knew?

  “She said if it wasn’t for his injury, you could have gotten at least ten for him.”

  He couldn’t contain his surprise. “Wow.”

  “She’d like to look at all your retired racehorses from here on out, including Dasher when he’s done healing up.”

  No more auctions. Well, at least for some of his horses. She’d done exactly as she’d promised.

  What if she could do the same for the rest of his friends?

  What if her plans weren’t just pipe dreams?

  “That’s great.”

  She smiled, looking self-satisfied. “I’m glad it worked out.”

  “I really owe you.” He pulled his cell phone out and glanced at the time. “Speaking of that, we should get going.”

  “Going to where?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  “I hate surprises.”

  “You’ll love this one.”

  She didn’t look convinced, but he headed for his truck just the same. She followed, and he had to admit, he felt strangely lighthearted. Maybe it had to do with selling Dandy. Or maybe he should just admit he really looked forward to spending more time with Mariah.

  “Can you at least tell me if I’m going to need a jacket or something?” she asked as he opened the door for her.

  “I don’t think so, but just in case, I brought an extra.”

  She climbed inside and he just about ran around to the driver’s side. Lord. He was like a teenager who’d just gotten his driver’s license.

  “I can’t wait for you to see what I have planned.”

  She stared at him, clearly pondering what he might be up to, and he wondered when the last time was that someone had done something for her. She was always busy running around. Helping horses. Talking to people. Trying to save the world. He would bet her own wants and needs came last.

  “When was the last time you had a vacation?”

  He had to focus on the road, but he caught her look of surprise. And then she laughed. “Vacation? What’s that?”

  Just as he thought. Granted, he didn’t exactly take yearly sojourns to the Bahamas, either, but his vocation took him to different parts of the country from time to time. Plus, there were frequent parties at the track, not to mention social events sponsored by wealthy horse owners, many so over-the-top they would do a rock star proud. So while it was mostly work, there was also play. He suspected the same couldn’t be said about Mariah. His thoughts made him all the more excited about what he had planned.

  They’d lapsed into silence, a comfortable one, Zach afraid to say too much lest he give the game away. Before too long they’d left Via Del Caballo behind, but the route he took was off the beaten path, taking them through low-lying mountains and briefly onto a freeway until he turned onto the coastal highway.

  “Please tell me you’re not taking me to a fancy restaurant.”

  “Patience,” he advised as a wide expanse of blue ocean stretching as far as the eye could see appeared to their left.

  “Although I’m enjoying the view.”

  The sun wasn’t down just yet, but it would be in an hour or less, and so it was low enough in the horizon that it turned the tops of waves into golden ribbons. It would be a perfect evening, he thought, slowing down when he spotted the road he was looking for.

  She sat up and leaned forward when he slowed. “What is this?”

  He scanned the gently curving hills, all of which were covered with grass, the road they traveled upon made of packed dirt. A barbwire fence bracketed both sides of the dirt road and helped guide the way.

  “Private ranch.” He saw her brow furrow in obvious confusion. “The property stretches all the way to the beach.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise. “Must be nice to have your own beach.”

  “Technically the state owns all the beaches in California, but for all intents and purposes it’s my friend’s.”

  “Which friend?”

  “Just a friend.”

  The beach was a half mile from the highway, and Zach had to work to keep a smile off his face as they climbed a small hill. Any minute now. He couldn’t wait to see the expression on her face when she saw what he had planned, and so as he crested the hill, he was looking right at her when she spotted the cattle holding pen in the center of a grass-covered valley. Tied to the wooden fence were two horses.

  “Ever ride on the beach?”

  * * *

  “YOU’RE KIDDING,” she asked, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice. Riding on the beach was on her bucket list. Ironic that she lived in California and had never done it before.

  “Ocean is over the dunes.” He pointed toward a small berm, one covered in sea grass, the blades blending beneath a slight wind.

  “This is amazing.”

  Wherever the main ranch was, it wasn’t in sight. To her left and right was a narrow valley that seemed to follow the coastline, the ground sandy beneath her feet, the roar of the ocean the only clue that they were near the crashing waves—that and the salt-laden air.

  “Whose horses are these?” she asked as she slipped from the truck, only to shake her head. “Wait. Let me guess. Your mystery friend.”

  “Yup.”

  “A racing friend.” She pointed to the freeze brand on the horse’s shoulder, a white patch of hair in the shape of a sideways, or “lazy,” L. “I’m guessing Wesley Landon, the only other friendly face on the board of directors.”

  “Clever girl.”

  “Are they retired racehorses?”

  “Pretty sure they are, but we’re not supposed to talk about anything related to racing, remember?”

  She smiled, and she had to admit, she was in a far better mood than before. The past few days had been crazy, compounded by the fact that she’d spent the bulk of them trying not to think about Zach. Now here she was, and if she was being completely honest with herself, she was happy. Really, really happy. She’d never been on a date with a man who loved horses as much as she did and it was like a dream come true.

  “Pick a horse. The sorrel is named Copper, and the gray is Logan.”

  “Okay.” She took a step back, eyeing the two horses. She couldn’t see all of the gray, so she moved around to the other side. They wore Western saddles, which looked kind of funny on the tall animals.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m picking the horse I think will be fastest in the race.”

  “Did you just say the R word again?”

  “I did, and I choose Logan.” She pointed at the gray. “He’s broader through the shoulder and has a nice an
gle to his hip. Looks like a speed horse to me.”

  He appeared surprised by her assessment.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing.” He tucked away a smile.

  “Just because I don’t like racing doesn’t mean I don’t know a thing or two about horses. I am a vet, after all.”

  “I know.”

  They mounted up, and Mariah’s stomach was full of butterflies for myriad reasons, some of which she refused to identify. Her horse stood patiently while she sorted her reins and stirrups. In the movies the heroine would have landed in the saddle, then immediately spurred Logan into a run, but that was only in the movies. Instead she clucked her horse forward and took a feel of the gelding’s mouth and how he handled. Like a dream, she admitted, getting more excited. She tasted salt on her lips as she smiled.

  “Shall we trot?” he asked.

  Since the beach was on the other side of a small incline cut into the middle of a dune, she nodded, and off they went, but only for a bit. The minute they made it to the top of the dune, she pulled Logan to a stop.

  “Oh, man.” Her words seemed so inadequate.

  In front of them stretched an expanse of coastline that took her breath away. Far down a beach dotted with driftwood and patches of seaweed she could see the curve of the coastline. Off to her right on a ridge that overlooked the ocean was a house that she could barely make out.

  “Goodness. How much of the coast do they own?”

  “It’s just Wes and his mother, and I believe it’s about five miles.”

  “Five miles!”

  “Wes’s family drilled most of the oil wells in Southern California. They also still own a portion of them all, and if you want to hear a good opposites-attract story, you should have Wes tell you about his mom and his dad—the environmentalist and the oilman.”

  His words and the look in his eyes made her want to turn away all of a sudden. “Sounds disastrous.”