Archer wanted to expand the refuge, but his request was modest. A large therapy pool, a more updated barn, a bunkhouse for expanded overnight camps and three new exercise walking wheels. To Eden, it was more maintenance than expansion.
“Ask him, pretty please, Momma,” Ivy said, crawling across the bed.
“I’ll ask him,” Eden promised, kissing her nose. “Silly goose.”
Ivy smiled.
“What are you going to do today?” she asked Clara.
“Mr. Boone said he’d take us into town. There’s a dollhouse museum and an old-fashioned soda shop.” Clara smiled, picking up Lily.
Eden sighed. “You’re spending a lot of time with Mr. Boone.”
Clara’s cheeks colored prettily. “He’s being a good ambassador, that’s all.”
Eden smiled. “Sure. Have fun exploring the town.” She kissed them all goodbye and walked out the back door. The path to the refuge was easy enough to follow, and this early, it wasn’t miserably hot. She enjoyed the sounds of the birds in the cedar and oak trees. She’d spotted a raccoon, squirrels, a roadrunner and several jackrabbits on her way.
But whatever was following her this morning was larger.
She heard him before she saw him, his soft whinny making her wait. “Fester,” she said, stopping so the horse could come closer. “Good morning. Were you waiting for me?” She stood still, letting the animal give her a hug. “You need a brushing.” She ran her fingers through his mane on the side of his neck, noting the burs and twigs trapped in the long black hair.
Fester shook his head, making her laugh.
“No brushing?” she asked. “A bath, maybe?” She started walking again, talking to Fester the whole time. He listened, she could tell. His ears cocked toward her, the occasional nicker a sort of conversation.
By the time they reached the refuge, Eden slowed, placing her hand on the horse’s neck. She paused by the steps of the administration office. “I wish you could tell me what you wanted, Fester. Archer wants to make you happy. So do I.” She rubbed his well-muscled neck with long, slow strokes.
“That’s all he wants,” Archer said, his voice low and coaxing.
Fester’s ears twitched, but he stayed by her side.
“What?” Eden asked.
“You,” Archer said. “I’ve never seen him so calm.”
She glanced at Archer, painfully aware of how handsome he looked in his pressed button-down shirt and tight, worn jeans. She continued stroking Fester’s neck, smiling when Fester turned toward her, breathing against her chest. “He’s a beautiful boy.” She saw the heavy scarring along his back right leg. “What happened to him?”
“He was caught in barbed wire when I got the call. Half-starved and dehydrated, trapped and pissed at the world. His leg was in a bad way. Think he blames me for the pain he went through.” Archer moved a little closer, keeping his voice low.
“It’s easy to lash out, isn’t it?” she asked Fester. “But Archer’s a friend. Where were his owners?”
“A couple owned him pretty much his whole life. The husband got sick so they moved up north to their daughter’s place. They thought someone had come to get him, but...”
“He was left behind.” She rested her forehead against Fester’s neck and closed her eyes, overcome with sympathy for the animal. Fester didn’t know where his people went. All he knew was he was alone. He must have been terrified, waiting for his people, trapped and hurting. “Does he like other horses?” she asked.
Archer sat on the bottom step of the porch, a few feet away.
Fester made an odd sound, stepping back.
“Don’t know. He gets agitated and jumps the fence as soon as the gate closes—before he sees the other horses.” Archer shook his head.
Eden stared at the horse. “Can we try again?”
Archer didn’t answer right away. “We can. He needs everyone to know he’s in charge. He’s special.”
Eden looked at Archer, hesitant. “Is there a group that won’t challenge him? Timid animals? That might want a leader?”
“We could try to get him in with the two waiting to be companion animals,” Toben called out from where he was leaning on the porch railing, keeping his distance but close enough to hear. “Can’t get more docile than that.”
“Bring them up to the front pasture, so we can break them up if we need to,” Archer said, standing.
“On it,” Toben said, sprinting off.
“Question is, how do we convince him to go inside a gate?” Archer sighed.
She already knew the answer to that. She rested her hand on the horse’s back. “I’ll walk in with him. Stay for a while.”
“Eden, I don’t want you trapped inside. If he does get riled up—”
“You’ll tell me before that happens. You’re the animal behaviorist. Would Fester hurt me?” Her gaze locked with his.
There was a long pause, his blue eyes boring into her own. “No, he loves you.” His voice was low, gruff.
It was hard to breathe. “Why do you say that?”
“He stays close to you. When he sees you, he comes. Hell, he’s putting himself between you and me right now—protecting you.” Archer ran a hand over his face. “If you figure out a way to make me a good guy, let me know.”
Eden heard the anguish in his voice and hurt for him. This was Archer’s life. He wanted to help the stubborn, beautiful animal. “I will,” she said, meaning it.
Archer’s gaze returned to hers. “You don’t have to do this.”
She nodded, continuing to run her hands along Fester’s shoulder. “I do.” The longer he stared at her, the heavier her chest felt. She didn’t know what he was thinking, but she knew exactly how she was responding. If he took one step toward her, she’d close the gap.
“We’re ready,” Toben called out.
Eden tore her gaze from Archer’s and walked toward the gate Toben had opened. Fester nickered at her, so she stopped and waited for him to catch up.
The whole refuge seemed to be waiting. Eden had never felt it so still. Maybe that’s why Fester seemed nervous. His ears were rotating wildly and his tail swished erratically. He didn’t like the pressure, either. She kept walking, talking to him in a soft, reassuring voice.
Eventually he followed her, hesitating just inside the gate. She kept going, crossing between the two horses in the pasture to rest against the wooden fence post. “Come on, Fester. You need some friends,” she called out. “Come on.”
Fester whinnied. The other two horses’ ears perked up. One whinnied in answer.
Eden stood there, terrified and hopeful. It took forever before Fester followed her into the pasture. When he did, he ignored the other horses and stood off to the side, looking at her. She kept on talking while the other horses approached.
“He’s making them come to him.” Archer’s voice was at her ear. “That’s good. Lets them know he’s in charge. Neither of them will challenge that.”
“What happens now?” she asked.
“We wait,” Archer said.
Archer spent the next minutes explaining the animals’ posturing, the noises they made, the slow easing of Fester’s tension. When Fester made his way to the water trough, the other two slowly followed, staying close to him.
Eden smiled. “That’s good, right?” She looked at Archer, full of hope.
He was smiling, too, watching the horses. “Yes, ma’am. It’s good.”
She’d like to think the rapid thump of her heart was due to Fester’s newfound herd. But the strong profile, the full lips and the fine crinkles at the corner of Archer’s smiling eyes were the more likely cause.
His blue gaze shifted to her, his smile dazzling.
The longer she stood there, staring at him, the harder it was to look away. But she managed it, barely. “Ivy heard about the parade. O
n Monday?”
“Stonewall Crossing knows how to throw a parade. You’re not heading back to Houston until the middle of next week, are you?” His question was gruff.
“I planned on working through the weekend.”
He shook his head. “We’ll get it done without giving up your weekend. Your girls are here, Eden. As long as we get it done by the end of next week, we should be fine.”
End of next week? She’d assumed, since Archer was so gung ho to get everything done, weekends wouldn’t matter. She’d counted on leaving with plenty of time to prepare for the board meeting on Friday—not that she had anything to present to the board. Why was that such a relief? “Our tickets are booked for early Tuesday morning.”
His smile dimmed. “That’d be a shame, Eden. Stay, for the parade and the fireworks, too,” he said. “I’m happy to cover the cost of your ticket change, fly you home Thursday morning. That’ll give us plenty of time.”
Us. She shouldn’t like the sound of that. But she did. She frowned. Another reason to leave—as soon as possible.
Fester went trotting by, his two new companions in tow. Fester’s confidence and posturing was a thing of beauty. He was enjoying the company, and it made her happy, too happy. She shouldn’t be this happy over a horse. She swallowed, pushing off the fence. “Think it’s okay for me to get to work now?” she asked, avoiding eye contact.
He stepped back. “Guess we’ll find out.” He held his hand out, offering to help her slide between the fence slats. But Eden did it on her own, made sure Fester was still happy and hurried inside.
* * *
ARCHER WAS DISAPPOINTED. Seeing Fester coming into his own, being receptive to the enclosed arena, was a breakthrough. Yet news of Eden’s plans, her apparent eagerness to leave, gnawed at him. And it lingered, a bruise deep beneath the skin.
Why, he didn’t know. She’d made it clear she had no interest in staying here. She’d been nothing but honest with him, never waffled or offered him any false hope. Once she was done with his books, she would leave him—leave here.
What he wanted, what he may or may not be feeling, wouldn’t change that.
When he greeted his cousin Deacon later that afternoon he was still growling. The sight of Deacon’s beat-up horse trailer and an ancient Chevy pickup truck did little to lift his spirits. In fact, the music blaring from Deacon’s open windows only ratcheted up his irritation.
“Archer,” Deacon said, nodding and turning down the music—a little. “Brought you a little something. And by little, I mean she’d be knocked down by a strong breeze. She’s weak on her feet. You’re gonna need some manpower to get her out.”
Archer nodded. “Bring her around to the end of the small barn,” he asked. “Got some of the men waiting to help unload.”
Deacon nodded, pulling slowly forward.
Archer caught a glimpse of the skeletal animal with sad eyes and shook his head. At least she was here. She had a fighting chance now.
It had been one hell of a long day. Fester was behaving, but Archer had asked Renata to keep a close eye on him—at least during his shift at the vet hospital. He’d made his rounds quickly, pleased that his students were finally getting the knack of charting. He knew he was tough on them, but there was no room for error.
He’d had to step in to lecture a class since his brother Hunter had called in sick—something his big brother never did. After he was done at the hospital, he’d stopped by the lumberyard for the fencing materials his father had requested and the feed store, too. He’d arrived at the refuge to see Eden watching Fester from the front porch, all smiles. She’d seen him climb out of his truck and scurried inside without a backward glance.
If Deacon hadn’t been bringing in the new horse, he’d have taken River on a long ride. He needed to clear his head—think of things beyond the Monroe Foundation and Eden Caraway.
“Got plans?” Toben asked Deacon. “Dancing at Cutter’s place tonight.”
Archer didn’t answer; he knew Toben wasn’t asking him. He opened the larger stall the horse would start out in. It was open at the end, giving her a view of the outside—where she’d be free to run when she’d regained some of her strength.
Deacon shrugged. “Drove most of last night. My plans were food and bed.”
“Damn shame, Deacon,” Toben said. “Whole family’s coming, according to Hunter. Uncle Teddy’s even bringing a date.”
That grabbed Archer’s attention. Hunter? He’d called in sick to work but could go out dancing? And his father? On a date?
“Might have to have a beer, then.” Deacon relented, then emphasized, “One.”
Archer didn’t say a thing. His father had one love in his life. And when Archer’s mother died, that part of his dad’s heart had stopped working. While his siblings worried over him, Archer understood. If you loved someone that completely, how would you get over losing them? Not that Archer had any experience with love—beyond his family. Maybe it was seeing his father’s heart so utterly destroyed. Or the countless girls his own brother Ryder wounded in his youth. Whatever it was, Archer had kept women and romance and hearts and flowers at arm’s length.
No way his father was dating. Archer shook his head but held his tongue. Nope. He didn’t believe it. Instead of letting his cousins’ chatter distract him, he concentrated on what needed to be done: settling this horse.
She was in bad shape. Shaking and blowing hard after a few steps.
“The shed she was in was dark and damn dirty,” Deacon offered. “I’m thinking she ran there for cover and the roof caved in.”
Archer nodded, seeing how resistant she was to leaving the dim trailer. He stepped inside, offering his hands and speaking to the skittish horse in low tones. She was so little, so frail, her skin jumping and twitching out of pure agitation. Her ears cocked up, but she looked side to side, disoriented and frightened.
He took his time, inspecting the horse from nose to tail. A small paint horse, black and white. One blue eye, one brown. Filmy eyes. Could be from malnutrition, could be cataracts. Either way, it would add to the horse’s agitation. New place. Blurred vision.
He placed a light hand on the horse’s back, the skin flinching beneath his touch. He could feel the notches of the animal’s spine, the line of each rib.
“You’re okay,” he said. “We’ll keep you safe.”
“She blind?” Deacon asked.
“Might be.” Archer kept his hand on the horse. She leaned into him, nudging his head, knocking his hat to the ground. “Don’t like my hat?” He laughed softly.
Deacon nodded. “She’s got more spirit than I expected.”
“Which is good. Long road to recovery. Need to do some blood work, check for parasites, vitamin deficiencies...” Archer kept a soothing tone, aware of every twitch and turn, shift and whiffle the horse made. She needed quiet, to feel calm and safe. Archer respected that—and took care to make sure the little paint understood he meant no harm. “We’re going to need help getting her out. She’s favoring her front left hoof. Don’t want to stress her out.”
It took forty-five minutes and six men to get the horse into the stall and settled. He spent another hour watching her, making notes on her gait, her wheeze, the constant shaking of her head. He wrote out a detailed diet plan and a series of vaccinations and medicines that would help get her back on her feet.
He nodded goodbye to Toben, thanked Deacon for the delivery and sat against the stall fence. He was in no hurry. After a while, she approached him, sniffing him curiously, growing accustomed to him. He suspected she’d be with him for a long time. Sometimes a horse stayed. They were too broken or too fragile to move again. “You’re okay, little girl,” he murmured. “Rest easy now.”
“Dr. Boone?” Eden’s voice was soft.
The horse’s ears pricked forward, turning toward her.
“In her
e. Calm, soothing tones, please,” he said, staying put.
“Oh.” Her exclamation was confirmation she’d found him.
“What can I do for you?” he asked, catching sight of her at the fence. Her golden hair was slipping free from her bun. She looked tired. And sad. Her hazel eyes inspected the horse, then pressed tightly shut.
“I...I wanted to let you know I was walking back to the Lodge,” she murmured.
“You’re under no obligation to check in with me,” he answered, trying to keep his irritation from seeping into his tone.
But she hesitated.
His teeth ground together, but he didn’t say anything.
“Dr. Boone?” she asked.
“Yes, Miss Caraway.” The horse stiffened at his tone.
“I respect what you do. And whether or not I’m doing everything you want me to do, I am doing the job I was hired to do.” Her tone remained soft. “Even if you’re disappointed.”
He stood slowly, his gaze slamming into hers over the back of the horse. “You are.” He placed a hand on the horse’s shoulders. She was right. And he was being...irrational. “I...I appreciate your hard work. And what you did for Fester today, as well.” He stopped himself from saying anything else.
Her gaze moved to his hand on the horse’s back. “She’s in a bad way?”
He nodded.
“Will you stay with her?” she asked, resting her arms on the top of the metal gate leading into the large stall.
He nodded, watching her, wishing she’d stay. This was his job, his area of expertise. Not hers. But...he liked having her close. Besides, her girls would be missing her.
“What’s her name?” she asked, smiling as the horse rubbed Archer’s chest with her nose.
A Cowboy to Call Daddy Page 8
