He doubted anyone would, because so far what he’d seen of the good people of Lusty was nothing but kindness and right-heartedness. Still, he and Duncan would keep their eyes and ears open, and would respond accordingly if the need arose.
We’re only halfway through our first date and already I’m protective and possessive as hell.
Alan looked over at Holly. Her attention appeared to be centered on him as he’d saddled Buttercup, and it made him feel ten feet tall. “I think I’ve got the stirrups the right length,” he said. Cupping his hands together, he lowered them beside the left one. “Up you go, honey.”
They’d stopped at Holly’s apartment so she could run in and change her clothes. She’d told them she’d only be a few minutes. He and Duncan had been prepared to wait however long it took, but Holly had been true to her word, returning to them less than ten minutes later.
He’d liked Holly in her prim librarian’s uniform of crisp white blouse and trim navy blue skirt. But he liked her in jeans and a T-shirt better.
“Okay, here I go.” She already had the horse’s reins in her hand. Now she grabbed hold of the pummel and then placed her left foot in his hands. He boosted her, and she swung her right leg over the horse. Duncan stood by Buttercup’s head, holding the horse’s halter, ensuring the animal didn’t shy. Holly mounted the mare like a pro—damn my horny thoughts—and then took just a moment to get herself situated comfortably.
“Good job on the stirrups,” Duncan said to him. Then he looked up at Holly. “Does it feel okay, sweetheart?”
“Yes, it does. Buttercup is a real sweetie.” Holly leaned forward and stroked the horse’s neck. If Alan had to guess by the way the mare stretched, leaned into the petting and then gave a soft snorting sound, he’d say that Carrie was in the habit of praising and petting her horse.
Duncan kept his place, allowing Alan to mount his own ride, a peppy gelding named Joker. He then moved close enough to Holly and Buttercup that he could take control of the mare if he needed to.
Holly noticed his maneuver and tilted her head slightly, something that he’d noticed she did when she wanted an explanation. He met her gaze. “We’re going to take extra care until we see how you do with Buttercup.”
“I appreciate that. It’s been a lot of years since I’ve sat a horse. We all had lessons, growing up. My parents thought that being able to ride was an important accomplishment, even though we never had horses of our own. Neither my older brother nor my younger sister cared for anything more beyond those weekly lessons. But for me, riding was a wonderful kind of weekend escape.”
“We both were more or less born in the saddle.” Duncan walked over to where he’d tied his own gelding, Hombre. “We grew up in Colorado, on neighboring ranches.” He mounted up and then brought his gelding alongside so that they had Holly between them.
“Ready, honey?” Alan asked.
Holly smiled, her pleasure plain. “I’m ready. Lead on, please.”
It didn’t take him long to understand that Holly did indeed know how to ride a horse. She relaxed into the saddle, her body’s rhythm looking natural, and while they kept the animals to a nice comfortable walk, he’d bet she’d do well at a lope or even a gallop.
“So…you’re from Colorado. I wondered. That’s some distance away, isn’t it?”
“Farther than you think,” Alan said. “We struck out on our own just after we turned nineteen. We wanted to see the world and figured there were enough opportunities for a couple of wranglers to pay their way as they traveled.”
“We’ve worked from California to Kentucky,” Duncan said, “on cattle ranches and horse ranches—and even for a few racing stables.” He met her gaze and grinned. “Those last positions were very interesting, and very profitable.”
“Because you were working with expensive thoroughbreds?” Holly asked.
“That, and because for a time, we also worked undercover as insurance investigators.”
“Oh, that’s exciting! What were you investigating?”
Alan kept his attention split between Holly, and the trail—if you could call it a trail—that led to a shaded area right beside a quiet little stream.
He wasn’t going to share with her the fact that this particular piece of Benedict land had last year served as the scene of a rather invasive photo-taking op by a sleazeball photographer. As Brian told him about that episode just after they hired on and were taking a tour of the land, Alan recalled seeing the photo in question.
Neither he nor Duncan felt it necessary to share that little bit of information with their bosses, or their bosses’ cousins, Cord and Jackson Benedict. Alan didn’t doubt that Duncan felt the same way he did about relating that event to Holly, a sentiment that could be summed up in two words—hell, no.
He pushed aside every other thought, and focused on the woman riding beside him. She’d asked a question he had no problem answering. “We met a man who worked for a large insurance company. He was investigating a series of claims that had been filed, by different racehorse owners, with no apparent connection between them. These claims were filed when horses that had been insured for major dollars fell ill and died—the illnesses and deaths very sudden and unexpected.”
“Ted Miller—the insurance rep—believed there was a connection between these claims, and more, that someone was helping horse owners profit when their investments appeared to be turning sour.”
“I don’t understand.”
Alan shrugged. “If you have a winning racehorse you’ve put to stud, but it turns out the stallion isn’t very virile, or that his offspring aren’t winners, then you lose out on all those lucrative stud fees—unless the horse dies before its failure as a sire is noted, and then you can collect millions in insurance money.”
“Oh! I think I remember that case! Wasn’t that trial about five years ago? And wasn’t one of the people arrested from Kentucky—some widow who’d inherited her husband’s racing stables?”
“Yeah, she was one of the key conspirators. She played a major role in seeking out horse owners who were in need of some illegal—and in our opinion immoral—help. She’d put them in touch with a man the authorities never caught, a man the press referred to as ‘Doctor Death.’” Duncan’s tone underscored his feelings on the subject.
Neither of them could abide the idea that people would destroy those noble creatures for a fist full of gold.
“I’m glad y’all helped to bring that operation down. I don’t think there’s anything more despicable than killing poor, defenseless animals for profit—well, unless it’s killing people, of course.”
“That’s what we think, too,” Alan said. “That was the main reason we agreed to help in the first place.”
Within a few more minutes they’d arrived at the creek. Shaded by two large Texas live oaks, the grass grew long and a bit softer here. One of the bits of trivia that Alan had learned as he and Duncan had traveled was that grass wasn’t the same grass everywhere. It looked and felt different in different places. Depending on the soil and the rainfall, and the combination of sun and shade, grass had different textures and different shades of green.
They’d taken a vacation once to Ontario, Canada. They’d both wanted to see a bit of the country to the north, and had gone in summer, thinking the weather wouldn’t be as hot as what they’d known out west and down south.
The heat they’d found had surprised them—as had the cleanliness of the streets in Toronto, and the cold of the water in the small lake in an area north of the major city called the Muskokas.
The other thing that had surprised them had been the softness of the lawn at the lodge where they’d stayed.
The grass here on this creek bank wasn’t quite that soft. But it made a good foundation for the woven blanket he’d brought along.
Since he’d been the one to help Holly onto her horse, Duncan helped her down. Alan caught the look in her eyes when his best friend lifted her off the animal and slowly lowered her to the grou
nd. She wore the same soft expression as when he’d helped her mount.
There was no question in his mind whatsoever. Miss Holly Bethune was attracted to them both.
Duncan kissed her hand and led her over to Alan. “I’ll see to the horses. Be with you in a bit.”
Alan walked Holly to a nice, fairly flat spot. He spread the blanket out—one he’d had for a while in his truck, but rarely used—and then held her hand to help her down. He grinned when she kicked off her shoes, first.
“Another time, maybe we’ll bring a picnic out with us.” He hoped there would be another time.
“That would be fun. I can fry up some chicken and make a couple of salads.”
“Do you like to cook, Holly?” Duncan came over in time to hear her offer. He lowered himself to the blanket and stretched out.
“I do, and it’s something I don’t do often enough. I like trying out new recipes.”
He and his best friend kept to the edges of the wool, allowing Holly the majority of the space. Neither of them wanted to crowd her, despite the fact that they were both pretty damn eager to kiss her.
“So.” Duncan grinned. “Now that we have privacy, please tell us about this Unfortunate Incident you mentioned in the restaurant.”
Alan tried not to snicker as Holly’s cheeks turned that pretty pink. Duncan had said the phrase exactly as she had, with a kind of whispered emphasis that added to the mystery. Then Holly sighed and shook her head.
“I suppose I owe you gentlemen at least that much, don’t I, considering I did say it and piqued your curiosity?”
Alan wondered at the serious look that came over her just then, and hoped to hell that whatever it was Holly was going to tell them, it wasn’t something really horrible.
He’d lived his thirty-three years so far without once committing murder. He’d hate to ruin that record now, but knew he likely would if someone had hurt his woman bad.
* * * *
Now that the time had come to explain the comment she’d made at Lusty Appetites, Holly was nervous. It had been a testament to how comfortable she’d been with Alan and Duncan over lunch that she’d let those two words slip into her conversation in the first place.
She’d been nearly sprawled in the middle of the blanket, but now she moved so she sat crossed-legged and turned slightly so that she could see them equally.
“You ever try to do something for someone, with really good intentions, and have it all go to hell in an instant?”
It had occurred to her that there wasn’t any way of telling this story that didn’t reflect badly on her parents—even though what happened really wasn’t their fault. So she tried to win sympathy for them from these men before she began to tell her tale.
Alan and Duncan looked at each other for a long moment, and then they both turned their gazes on her.
“Not really,” Alan said.
“Then I guess you’re lucky. About three years ago, my cousin Esmeralda got married. She was the last of my female cousins to do so, leaving me as the oldest surviving spinster in the Bethune clan.”
“You’re not a spinster, honey,” Alan protested.
“According to the dictionary, you’re right, I’m not. But according to most of the ladies my mamma knows, at my advanced old age of over twenty-one, I was. Anyway, about that same time, one of my closest friends moved from Georgia all the way to Alaska. She’s a wildlife biologist and was awarded a research grant that would have her working in Denali National Park for the next five years.
“Well, I guess the fact that I don’t talk much about myself or my feelings meant, when I didn’t share why I was sad, Momma just assumed it was because I not only wasn’t married, I’d never really had a beau. She decided to do something about that little thing.”
“She started playing matchmaker for you?” Duncan asked.
The question was asked easily enough, with just the hint of humor. Holly flicked a quick glance at Alan. He seemed tense. It was the first time she’d seen the two of them in completely opposite moods. When Alan saw she was looking at him, he nodded, a silent sign she took as encouragement to continue.
“Oh, yes,” she replied. “Momma had her friends bring over nephews, cousins, sons of friends…and some were young men they didn’t even really know all that well but were members of their churches. For a while that summer, I became the project of the Ladies’ Auxiliary.” Holly sighed. It was kind of embarrassing, now that she was speaking about it aloud. Nothing to do now but press on. “None of the young men made any real impression on me, and to be honest, I didn’t make much of a one on any of them, either. And then Momma talked Daddy into bringing home a few single, up-and-coming young executives on his staff. He’s the CEO and chairman of the board of Bethune International. It’s a very successful investment and development corporation. My daddy is an important man in business circles in our part of Georgia.”
“Something happened with one of those young executives, didn’t it?” Alan took hold of her hand and stroked the back of it with his thumb, just like he’d done in the restaurant. And, just like it did then, the contact soothed her.
“Neil Tremayne was the assistant to the vice president of finance. He was single, and as far as Daddy knew, a hard worker, and a decent young man. I have to admit I looked twice. He was charming, appeared to be very attentive, and claimed he loved to read, and go for walks. It seemed to me at first as if he could look inside my mind and just know exactly what would appeal to me.”
“Bastard.”
Alan had become even tenser as she spoke. Duncan had also lost all hint of amusement, and was sitting straighter on the blanket. He lifted her other hand and copied Alan’s caress. She’d never before known that a simple touch could do so much. Something about the way they both focused on her triggered a dawning realization. It suddenly occurred to Holly what they were thinking had happened, what they seemed to be bracing themselves for.
She decided to cut to the chase. “No, he didn’t hurt me, but it was close.” Holly sighed. Just thinking about the Unfortunate Incident made her stomach turn sour. “He thought when I said ‘no’ to his advances, that I was just being coy. He said afterward that he thought Daddy had brought him home, expecting him to claim me in a bold fashion, to expedite a quick wedding.”
“Bastard!” This time it was Duncan who spat that.
They had her hands but she had theirs, too. Turning the tables, she used her thumbs to try and impart calm. “I won’t disagree with that assessment. Anyway, we’d gone for a walk after dinner in the garden, when he tried to…well, when he tried. Fortunately Charles, our major domo, heard my cries and protests and came to the rescue.” Holly gave them a bit of a grin. “Charles is a retired Marine Master Sergeant. He wasn’t at all impressed with Mr. Tremayne.”
Alan looked over at Duncan. “We’ll have to thank the man when we meet him.”
“Definitely,” Duncan said. “I hope Charles made Tremayne hurt real bad.”
“He did. Anyway, Momma and Daddy were horrified that such a thing had happened to me. Daddy vowed never to bring another man home to dinner ever again, and even Momma decided that perhaps my being single at twenty-five wasn’t so bad a thing after all. She has my sister, Becky Lynn, to focus on—Becky Lynn really wants nothing more than to be a corporate wife. And she has my niece, Jacqui, who’s finished her second year of college. Jacqui’s just twenty-one, and since she lives with her daddy—my brother—at our parents’ house—well, Momma has her hands happily full.”
“What aren’t you telling us, sweetheart?” Duncan asked.
“Ever since it happened, Momma and Daddy have been walking on eggshells around me, treating me as if—well, as if I’m psychologically damaged. And they keep referring to what happened as the Unfortunate Incident—yes, upper case first letters and all in italics. I tried to tell them I wasn’t damaged or traumatized. And I wasn’t. I was mad as hell!”
Alan tilted his head to the side. “You got a lick in there yourse
lf before your folks came running to your aid, didn’t you?”
Holly blushed even deeper. Charles hadn’t told a soul what she’d done, and no one else who’d learned of the Unfortunate Incident, not even her niece, had even thought to ask the question Alan had just asked. “Well, now that I think back on it, it could possibly have happened that when Tremayne was on the ground, with his hands covering his broken and bleeding nose, that my foot might have slipped and accidently connected hard with his man parts.”
“Good girl,” Alan said.
“Twice,” Holly said.
Duncan laughed out loud. He lifted her hand and kissed it. “Atta girl.”
Alan’s reaction was even more over the top. He reached out, and scooped her into his arms. “Just so that you know, we can’t promise that we won’t underscore Charles’s message to Tremayne, if we should ever meet the sorry bastard face-to-face.”
She was pressed close to him and the heat of his body sank into hers. The sensation of being held in his arms eclipsed anything she’d ever imagined. Those butterflies had left the roller coaster in her belly and were doing loop-de-loops all on their own. Holly inhaled deeply, and could smell him, a clean masculine scent. The feeling of the firm muscles of his thigh pressing against her hip nearly made her weak in the knees. Somehow, she recalled what he’d just said. Since his expression told her he wasn’t kidding, she nodded. “If the man is stupid enough to ever come near me again, then he deserves whatever he gets.”
“There you go.” He continued to hold her. As if she couldn’t help herself, she slowly wound her arms around his neck.
“Holly?”
“Yes, Alan?”
“I’m going to kiss you now.”
“Yes, please. I really want you to kiss me.”
She loved that quick-as-lightning smile that blossomed on his lips. And then he laid that smile on her mouth, and Holly Bethune discovered that there existed something in the world that tasted even better than chocolate.
Love Under Two Wranglers [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Ménage Everlasting) Page 4
