by J. M. Madden
The sorrel was beautiful, sleek coated and trimmed. His hooves were polished to a high gloss black. Doubt they'd stay that way, but Brock could try.
Payton patted the horse on the neck and he nuzzled her hand.
"That's Dalton."
Payton looked up at Brock, and lost her breath. Damn, but he was good looking.
Very often he wore long sleeved shirts just to keep from burning out in the Texas sun, but this one was really nice. White with a few blue lines running in a grid pattern, collared, with pearl buttons. He wore jeans that still had the factory creases in them, and today he wore a buff colored hat. Very different from his normal black hat, but it still looked phenomenal. And, of course, the custom boots on his feet looked fresh as the day he'd ordered them. Brock didn't dress up very often, so it was a little shocking to her.
Oh, wait. This was kind of a date.
Her heart warmed as she realized he'd done all this for her, not because he was delivering an expensive horse.
She glanced down at her own blouse, sage green with a decorative, bling covered yoke across her shoulders. She didn't wear it very often, because it was a little too much for every day. But it was perfect for a date. And it went well with her new jeans.
Also as a consideration for today, she'd gotten up early enough to shower, then tackle her too-long hair. Today she wore big, loopy curls. By the end of the day they'd be straight as ever, but for now they looked pretty. And she'd left her hat behind.
Brock seemed a little taken aback at her appearance. Then, as if he couldn't help himself, he walked to her and pressed a kiss to her lips.
Payton couldn't breathe. This was the first time he'd made the first move and it floored her. When he pressed into her mouth harder, she opened her lips for him. They both tasted of toothpaste. And as his tongue glided along hers, she relished how right she'd been to wait for him.
He kissed her just long enough to get her aroused, then he pulled away. They were both panting a little, and he grinned at her, tugging on a curl. "You look beautiful today, Payton."
Tears flooded her eyes and she had to look away.
But he drew her back with a finger under her chin. "Why are you upset?"
She shook her head, breathing through the emotion. "I've never gotten a compliment like that from you."
Brock scowled and she could tell he was trying to remember when he had actually given her a compliment, but couldn't. "I'm sorry, sweetness," he told her softly. "I guess it's taken me a while to notice you. I mean, you've always been beautiful, but I guess I didn't realize that you needed to hear it."
She laughed. "Every woman likes to know that she looks good. Haven't you figured that out yet, Brock? And not just when you're trying to sleep with them."
The man had the grace to blush. "I have figured that out, thank you very much, but I guess I just looked at you differently. You seem so much more ... self-reliant and confident than a lot of the women I date."
Okay, the man was earning back points.
They loaded the horse up as well as the tack he was being shipped with, and climbed into the truck. They were on the road by eight-thirty.
"I called J.T. Lightner about that bull last night. He admitted he’s gotten out before, but he's never gone after heifers like that, and he hasn't done anything bad for several years. He offered to split the cost of the loss, which I think was decent of him."
“That is," she agreed. "But what made him go off? He had to have been too far away if any of those girls had gone into heat. Did Jackson and Sean find anything last night?"
He glanced at her. "Yes. Hoof tracks that look like they push the bull toward the fence. You saw him when he was done. Just a few scratches in his tough hide. If he's gone through fence before, then doing it again is no big deal, especially if prodded. There was one pretty distinctive shoe print that only had seven nails in the shoe instead of eight. They followed the tracks to the lane, then out to the main road. They can see where it looks like a truck and trailer had pulled over, but nothing else."
"Have you talked to Sheridan?"
"Yeah, I called him last night too. I know he sent a car out to look around but I don't think they found anything."
Payton leaned back in the seat. "Why would someone push him through the fence?"
Brock shook his head. "Not sure, but I definitely think someone did it. We just haven't caught sight of them yet."
They drove for a few miles in quiet.
"Sean seems to be settling in well," Payton said. "I think he appreciated the excitement yesterday."
"I'm glad he did," Brock laughed. "I could do without that kind of excitement again for a long time."
"Seems like he's really getting into the swing of ranch life though."
"Yes, I agree. He mounted up within just a couple of minutes when I called for him."
"So, where are we taking this guy?" she hiked a thumb back toward the horse trailer.
Brock made a face. "We are taking him to Candy-Coated Quarters out of Idalou, Texas."
Payton laughed. "Really? Candy-Coated Quarters?"
He nodded once. "The owner's name is Candy Stephens."
Payton made a face and wondered who on earth would choose a crazy name like that.
A couple hours later they pulled into the secondary drive of one of the most beautiful horse ranches she'd ever seen. It was a Spanish style set up, with a truly massive house. The main barn was bigger, though, and no expense had been spared. There was a covered hot-walker ring, a covered training ring, open-air and closed stalls, wash stalls and more. The place was beautifully landscaped everywhere. And in the paddocks and stalls were some of the most beautiful Quarter Horses Payton had ever seen.
"Wow, I guess I can see why she called it Candy-Coated."
Brock glanced at her. "And I kind of have to warn you, Candy… um, she likes me. She may, well, I'm not sure what she'll do. Let me tell you this. I appreciate you coming along. For more reasons than one."
With that cryptic remark, he parked in front of the barn and slid to the ground. Payton followed along, a little cautiously. What the hell had he meant by that?
Payton followed Brock out of the truck and around the hood. She was about to ask him when a voice called from inside.
"Brock Lowell, you sexy son-of-a-gun. I've been waitin' on you for hours!"
A woman swayed out of the barn in one of the most ridiculous baby-blue outfits Payton had ever seen. Blue Stetson, blue bejeweled shirt about to give way under the strain of containing her voluminous breasts, tight designer-faded blue jeans and blue boots. She glittered from head to toe. Even her fluffy blond hair seemed to be glittering.
The woman stepped up to Brock and laid a slow, deliberate kiss on his cheek. "You look delectable, darlin'. Can I get you anything to drink? Or are you hungry? Have y’all had breakfast?"
"I'm good, Miss Candy." Brock leaned away from her, holding a hand out to Payton. "This is a very dear friend of mine, Payton Hanniford."
Candy turned her bright blue glittering eyes to Payton, and was given the same treatment, although there was a coolness to her expression. The woman took her in in a glance, her smile never changing. "Welcome to Candy-Coated Quarters, Payton. Can I get you anything?"
"No, ma'am. But thank you."
With a deliberate wink at Payton, Brock looked at the woman in blue. "You look beautiful today, Miss Candy."
The woman actually ducked her head and tilted her chin to the side, like a bashful little girl. "You're gonna make me blush."
Candy moved close and tucked her hand through Brock's elbow. "I want to see this amazing horse you brought me, Brock, darling."
Brock 'darling' parked Candy at the back of the trailer and unlatched the gate. Dalton gave a little leap as he exited the trailer, then posed and bugled out a greeting, his sorrel coat shining in the morning light.
Candy clapped her hands. "Oh, he's stunning! Look at that head. What classic Texas Jack lines! But I can see shades of his m
ama's line in there just as much as his daddy's. I want to see him move."
She waved a hand and guided them into the shade of the barn. Brock started leading Dalton that way, keeping the horse to a nervous prance.
"Want me to get his tack?" Payton asked.
Brock gave her a pleading look and a nod. Returning to the truck, she opened the back door and removed the bridle, pad and saddle. For the first time she noticed how bejeweled it all was. Hoisting the saddle over the shoulder that wasn’t sore, she followed them into the covered arena.
Brock handed her the lead line and took the heavy saddle from her. Dropping the pad over the horse's back, he squared it up before settling the heavy, silver-embellished saddle. Dalton stood still and ready, as though he wanted to work. Finally, Brock fit the bridle over the animal's head and fastened the cheek strap.
"Are you ready to see what he can do?"
Candy clapped her hands like a child and gave a little hop. "Yes, please!"
Brock swung into the saddle and sent the horse into a long, ground-eating canter, then slowed to a jog, then a walk. He raced him from one end of the arena to the other, showing Candy exactly what she was paying for.
"Oh, what a beautiful thing," she sighed.
Payton thought she was talking about Brock more than the horse. He rode like he'd been born on a horse, which, in a way, he had been. Through spins and sliding stops, the lower half of his body barely moved. He pivoted at the hips when he needed to. Brock Lowell riding a well-trained horse was a sight to see. He motioned for a small group of cattle to be let into the ring by one of the hands. With barely a touch to the reins, the horse took off after the running cattle and picked a rangy black calf from the herd, separating it easily.
When he reined up in front of Candy, neither of the males were breathing fast.
"That was superb, Brock. My turn."
Brock hopped down off the horse and Miss Candy swung up into the saddle. She turned the horse and galloped around the ring, taking him through his paces just like Brock had. She motioned for cattle and guided the horse toward a buff colored calf in the middle of the herd. Dalton singled him out and separated him like he'd been doing it all his life. Candy let the calf rejoin the herd, then pushed them all through a gate the hand had opened.
Payton had to admit that as bedazzled and flighty as she might appear, Miss Candy was all Texas horsewoman, that woman could ride.
Candy's blue eyes were lit with excitement when she stopped in front of Brock and dropped down off the horse. She immediately pulled him in for a tight, boob-smooshing hug.
"This horse is amazing," she breathed. "I can't believe how well you've done with him. I have to admit I was a little leery when you told me about him, but I'm completely sold now."
She pulled a check from her bling covered ass pocket and handed it over. "There's the cost of the horse plus a little extra. I know you get them special tack when they're headed my way, and I appreciate the effort."
Brock put the check into his chest pocket without looking at it. "I appreciate that, Candy. If you have any problem with him, I want you to let me know."
"Oh, I will," she promised, giving him a huge grin. "Now, I want to show you something."
Candy held the horse's rein out to Payton, as if expecting her to take it. Payton's brows shot up in surprise. Really? Did Candy think she was the horse's groom?
Brock gave her an expressive eye-roll and beseeching look over Candy's head.
And that was how she found herself standing with a sweaty horse while she waited for her almost-boyfriend to return for her. Eventually a groom appeared from somewhere to lead the horse away. Payton just stood there, feeling dumb, before she headed to the truck.
Turning the key in the ignition, she rolled down the windows to appreciate the breeze flowing through. Five minutes passed. Then ten. By the time twenty minutes had passed she was ready to chew nails. It was almost noon. They'd been there nearly two hours.
When Brock finally appeared, she tried not to glower, but it was hard. His hat was a little off kilter and there was a smudge of dirt on his shoulder. More tellingly, there was lipstick on both cheeks. Was she imagining a pink tinge on his lips as well?
With a hard jerk, he dragged the gearshift down into drive and pulled away. Only when they were on the main road headed back toward the interstate did he look at her.
She deliberately kept her face turned away, but she could feel him looking at her.
"I'm sorry, Payton," he said finally. "I thought if I brought you with me she would get the hint that I’m not interested, but it seems I misjudged. She walked me back to ask me what I thought about a foal one of her mares just had." He sighed. "Call me stupid but I didn't realize she was going to pounce on me like that. Are women really that hard up that they'd tackle a man in a stall?"
In spite of her aggravation, she snorted as she glanced at him. "If the man looked like you, hell yeah."
"I didn't take you there to be subjected to that. I'll admit, at one point I was flattered by her attention, but when I realized how she went through men, I backed off. It's been hard getting that message across."
"You're flashy and pretty, the perfect dark counterpoint to her blinding glitter."
She gasped suddenly, overtaken by laughter. "Oh, oh, fudge! If you two got together she would be Brock's Candy! Get it? Like Brach's Candy, with the pink and purple logo? Candy corn and… fudge."
She laughed until tears leaked from her eyes. She glanced at Brock and he was scowling at her, looking affronted. Which only made her laugh harder. It took a couple of minutes for her to stop giggling when she looked at him. Brock obviously didn't see the humor.
It was also obvious that he really didn't like the connection drawn between the socialite and himself. He stared out the windshield, jaw clenched. Payton started to feel bad.
"Oh, c’mon Brock, you have to admit it's a little funny. Plus you're trying to apologize to me when you have pink lipstick all over your face."
"What?" He turned the rearview mirror to look and cursed. Immediately he repositioned the mirror and looked for a place to pull over. A gas station loomed ahead and he put his blinker on. As soon as he parked, he dug into the center console for spare napkins and began scrubbing his cheeks. The mauve color persisted.
Payton leaned down and dug into her own purse, pulling out a package of wet wipes. She pulled one from the sleeve and motioned him to lean over. "Come here."
He leaned toward her, bracing an elbow on the seat divider, and she began wiping his cheeks. His brightly colored eyes stared at her, hard, until she looked at him. "I'm sorry, Payton. I didn't expect her to be so forward in spite of you being there. This was supposed to be a fun day. I don't want this to derail it."
Her heart softened at the expression in his eyes. "I know you didn't plan it, Brock. I’m just a little peeved."
She used a fresh wipe to swipe across his lips, then looked at it. There. No pink.
"She didn't kiss me there," he swore. "I wouldn't let her."
She lifted a warning brow at him, then leaned forward to rest her lips on his own in a quick kiss. But again, he didn't let her pull away. Cupping her head in his big hand, he deepened the kiss, then pulled away reluctantly. One hand glided down the length of her hair, then tugged at the ends. He gave her a quizzical look, then settled back into the driver's seat.
Payton wondered at the look. Maybe he was a little shocked that she hadn't been more of a bitch about it. The woman's attentions and motivations had been obvious to Payton from the get go. But, Brock was trying to keep Candy at arm’s length the whole time and he wanted to spend the day with Payton, not be Candy Coated. Payton was ready to move on with the rest of their kind of a date day.
"So, where are we going?" she asked.
Brock grinned. "You'll see."
Chapter 14
They headed back into Lubbock. It wasn't a big city, but big enough to cater to whatever you needed. There were recreational lakes and th
eaters, and recently the art scene had been growing. They were too early for all that, but there were some fabulous places open for lunch.
"I thought you might like to go to the Cast Iron Grill."
Payton's big green eyes widened. "Oh, yes! I've been there before but it's been a couple of years."
They headed into downtown. Brock was glad that he'd brought the smaller trailer. It was so maneuverable. He pulled into a parking lot across from the grill and a little up the street. They'd need to walk a bit.
Payton didn't wait for him to open her door, just met him at the front of the truck, and he guided her to the grill with a hand on her back
Brock felt like he was in a bit of a time warp or something. Or maybe an alternate reality was what he meant. Payton Hanniford had been in his life for years, literally, but he was just beginning to see her.
He'd considered her taboo. Which was ridiculous, he realized now. They were only five years apart, and it was exactly as she'd said. Years ago, when she was in high school, five years was a long time, but since they'd gotten older it was really a non-issue.
He needed to talk to Cheyenne, make sure she was okay with all this. And he needed to say something to his parents about it as well. Damn. That could be an uncomfortable conversation, they considered Payton a daughter. But, if this relationship had any chance of surviving, all the parties involved needed to be aware.
Damn. Was he really thinking this had a snowball's chance in Texas of surviving? He looked at her, smiling as she walked in the door and was greeted by the Grill's staff. He glanced through the women working in the restaurant. None of them could even compare to her, especially decked out the way she was.
They headed to a table and he held out her chair, then seated himself. Immediately a waitress came over and took their drink orders. They both ordered tea, then Payton buried her nose in the menu.
"My mouth is watering," she admitted. "I didn't think I was especially hungry, but I'm ready to eat now. That smell just hits you when you walk in the door."
