Shane ( Horse Whisperer Novel Book 2)

by Carol Devine

  "Can we make love, real love?"

  He looked down at her, taking in the darkness around her eyes from lack of sleep. Wisps of gilded hair touched her cheeks, which only made her seem more worn out, the color of her hair alive while her pale skin were not.

  "You're still bleeding, darlin'. The doctor said wait till it stops."

  "It's spotting. It's like the end of my period. The shower would be a good place. Can I interest you in that?"

  "You can always interest me. But what if I just wanted to sleep with you? I can't remember being so bushed. How would you feel about that?"

  She straightened as though offended, pulling away from him. "I'm hardly a nymphomaniac. It would be fine if you had a reasonable excuse, like you busted your balls breaking a horse or something."

  "Your idea of what I do for a living is really off the mark."

  "I'm trying to lighten the mood! Where's your sense of humor?"

  "I'm mourning the loss of my father-in-law."

  She inhaled, furious. "How dare you!"

  She was looking for him to react but Shane refused to cooperate. Impatient with the back and forth that was going nowhere, Shane flattened his affect, his tone, everything. "I think if you want to work so bad, you should come work for me."

  "I could never work for you."

  "Why not?"

  "I'd just get in everyone's way."

  "You're right. Working for me will allow you to feel more useless than you do now."

  "Oh, I get it. I'll feel more useless at the stables than I will with Cassie. Contentment will ensue."

  "You want a nanny for twenty hours a week. I'll go along with it if you work at the stables. You'll be close enough to pop into the house whenever you want, even feed her yourself rather than have the nanny do it. That's my final offer."

  "My final offer involves doing work that satisfies my needs, not yours."

  "My answer is no."

  "You can't say no. It's my life."

  "It's our life. I'm speaking for Cassie. More importantly, what would Mrs. Bird McBride say?"

  "This is not about my mother."

  "Right, and it's not about your father, either. Tell you what. Give me two weeks at the stables. Forty hours. If you want to go back to being a PI after that, you'll have my blessing."

  She narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm suspicious all of a sudden. There's something you're not telling me."

  Shane threw his hands out in a gesture of frustration. "You're exhausting, you know that? I'm trying to end this thing and even though we didn't yell, it's taking the stuffing out of me. I'm going back to the stables."

  "Shower first."

  Sighing, he checked his watch. "How much longer will Cassie be asleep?"

  Mariah checked her watch. "Now that she's on formula, she should stay satisfied for another--"

  A squawk came out of the bouncy seat, then a full-fledged cry. Shane stuck the pacifier in Cassie's mouth but she spit it out, crying her hungry cry. "It's my turn to change and feed her," he said.

  "I'll get the bottle ready."

  "Thanks." He left the room, juggling the baby. Mariah heard him taking the stairs two at a time, easily, while carrying Cassie. The whirlwind.

  Somehow he'd managed to talk her out of something she really wanted to do. Why did he have to be adamant and pig-headed about two short weeks?

  And working for him. What was that all about? Before today, he'd never expressed any desire whatsoever for her to be at the stables, except to ride. Sure, she groomed horses and saddled and bridled her own. Sometimes his, too, if he was short on time or had to attend to something before or after one of their trail rides. But it was her choice, not his.

  She couldn't understand why she'd agreed to it, either. She must be more exhausted than she thought, allowing him to wear her down. Post-pregnancy fog, people called it, to be expected because her hormones were adjusting, on the way to normality.

  Two weeks should probably do it as far as normality went, give her time for her brain to snap back into place the way her body was doing. Mariah looked down at the shape of her flattening breasts.

  Or not doing.

  She sighed. Maybe Shane was right. She didn't like admitting it but getting more physical activity would help her feel better. She'd already started low-impact aerobics to get back into shape. There was little doubt that caring for a herd of horses in the great outdoors promised to be a calorie-consuming experience. Certainly it was preferable to sitting in a car for hours on end during a stakeout. Maybe the nanny could walk Cassie over to visit the stables between naps. It was warm enough. And to address Shane's point, cheating spouses were rather scarce there this time of year. No deadbeat dads with guns, ready to aim and fire at his wooden office desk rather than her cheap metal one.

  She could tolerate two short weeks.

  * * * * *

  "You're doing it wrong."

  Mariah threw her gloved hands up in defeat. It only served to irritate Shane further. Both wearing jeans, cowboy boots and flannel shirts, they were standing in the middle of the round pen, working a young Palomino colt together.

  "According to you, I do everything wrong. I'm a rookie, a greenhorn, a wet-behind-the-ears pile of elephant dung."

  Shane readjusted the lunge line and handed back the looped circle of rope. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself and try it again."

  She peeled off her leather work gloves. "No, I've done this long enough. I quit."

  She stalked to the house and told the nanny to take the rest of the week off, but to show up at 8 a.m. Monday morning for a five hour shift.

  Mariah made silly faces at Cassie, who was in her bouncy chair. She wiggled and babbled, practicing her latest smiling skills. Mariah tweaked the baby nose.

  Twenty-five hours a week, she was taking. She didn't care what Shane said. He owed her five extra hours just for putting her through the torture of listening to him bark orders at people for the last week and a half. Including her.

  How did Ana and his other employees do it? He was such a perfectionist. Everything had to be done exactly right when it came to the caring, the feeding, the cleaning, the mucking out, the breeding, the training, the grooming, the handling of his horses.

  Mariah had never seen this side of him before, never seen him inspect an employee's work, jumping in to correct, to re-do or re-teach. He scolded or sometimes even cussed a person out. In the face of his involvement in every facet of his business, patience was not his strength. She'd never seen him be utterly grim in the face of adversity, either, like yesterday, when a favorite mare gave birth to a dead foal.

  Part of her kept thinking he'd find a way to make light of it, like he did so many things. She tried to tell him, birth and death were part of life. He simply stared at her, unwilling to acknowledge the truth of her words. He even nitpicked about Bird and the same human realities.

  As she continued to play happy face with Cassie, Mariah dwelt for a moment on Bird. She'd become resigned to her sour belief that, toting his tattered Bible to the pearly gates, he'd met the angels and talked his way into heaven. He was with her mother now.

  Mariah knew the simplistic story came from her weary, addled, post-pregnancy brain, but it seemed like it had to be true. Because he'd repented his sins in the seconds before he died, he would have been absolved as Jesus promised. He would have made it past St. Peter, guard at the gate, with a clean, unsullied slate. Despite the mean and criminal things he did, he was welcomed, forgiven. He sinned, yes, but he sinned for love, love for a woman who had left this earth long before him.

  They were together now, her mother and father, together in death. Mariah used the word easily, determined to face the truth unflinchingly, her number one goal in life. It surprised and offended her that Shane couldn't do it when it came to his mares.

  He came in late for dinner, after she'd put Cassie down for the night. Mariah, having started eating the roast chicken she'd prepared, she put down her napkin and rose when she saw him com
e through the back door. He put his hat on the wall peg, then faced her.

  "I'm sorry," he said, weight shutting the door. "It was a lousy idea."

  He looked terrible, the usual light in his face banished by guilt and weariness. Guilty too, she welcomed him, wrapped her arms around him, and felt terribly weary herself.

  "I'm sorry, too, Shane. I was… It was... " How should she put it? "It was worth trying."

  He shifted his weight, attempting to rub the tension from the small of her back. "When are you starting at the office?"

  "Monday. I gave the nanny the rest of the week off."

  He pulled back enough to finger her chin and stroke her cheek. "I want you happy, Mrs. Youngblood."

  Made giddy by that remark, Mariah kissed him long and hard. "You're a keeper, Mr. Youngblood."

  He chuckled. "I'm kinda fond of you, too. Just promise me you won't take on too much. No more than 20 hours, agreed?"

  "Agreed."

  It was a little white lie. She was extra nice to him the rest of the week. Extra, extra nice. They squeezed in a love-making session, abbreviated by issues having to do with Cassie and Mariah setting up her schedule for her return and an early Monday start.

  But they were tender moments, sustaining moments, leaving them both feeling better about this marriage they had, this marriage between two souls.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Four months into the arrangement, Mariah snapped her ponytail band in place, trying to keep from snapping at Shane. He stood next to her, applying shaving cream, the two of them sharing the mirror that spanned the length of their bathroom with its long countertop and two sinks. She was finishing her hair and makeup for a morning security consult at the local bank. "I can't be at both places at once," she said.

  "Neither can I. It's the same week I have a whole slew of buyers in town. What about rescheduling your clients?" He stroked his jaw with his razor; scrape, scrape, scrape, finishing in seconds. "These things seem to be happening more and more often. I can't leave a training session or a sales meeting at the drop of a hat because you're getting busier."

  Mariah applied moisturizer to her face and evened her voice to the bottom line level. "It's inevitable there will be conflicts when we both have demands on our time. Maybe we should get a second nanny so we have a backup."

  Shane bit off pointing out she didn't need to have such overwhelming demands on her time, an observation that went over, these days, like a lead balloon. Finished with shaving, he wiped his face clean, letting his silence speak for him.

  Mariah picked up on his moodiness. "Tell you what," she said, kissing his soap-smelling cheek. "I'll try and reschedule. I'll call the clients personally... I won't have my secretary do it. If I can take Cassie myself, it should go a long way toward making us both happy."

  Shane relented slightly. "That would be nice."

  "Glad you agree."

  Disappointed that she hadn't picked up on the nice reference, Shane pressed her. "What happens if your client decides to be uncooperative?"

  "If I can't get out of it, I'd like permission to have the nanny take her to the pediatrician for the next checkup."

  Having laid his clothes out the night before, Shane dressed in seconds. "My permission, huh? What a concept, asking my permission."

  "I'm serious. As you've said many times, we need to make family decisions together."

  He sighed. "It goes against my better judgment but I can live with it this one time."

  "Here's something you'll be happy about. I'm making your favorite dinner."

  He settled against the counter, arms crossed, appraising her with half a smile. "Just in case I refused permission?"

  She kissed him again, this time on the mouth. "I have a very devious mind."

  "Well-trained in avoiding the word 'obey' in wedding vows."

  "You married a modern, straightforward, intelligent woman. I admit it freely, without reservation. It's why you love me."

  "One of many reasons." He dropped a kiss on her shoulder, noting the lacy bra strap peeking from under her sleeveless dress. "I'm starving," he said, nipping her neck. "Are you offering breakfast, too?"

  "You and your one-track mind."

  "You married a very hungry man, in more ways than one."

  He slid his arms around her waist and nuzzled behind her ear, then fingered her bra strap.

  She ducked him. "Sorry, Shane, but I'm running late. I'll see you tonight, at dinner."

  * * * * *

  Ana's voice crackled over the intercom that covered the barn and corral areas of KSY Stables. "Shane to the office. Shane to the office."

  Muttering, Shane stopped what he was doing and headed for the stable office. It was five thirty in the afternoon. If this scheduled phone consultation finished up after six, he was going to be late for dinner, which meant he was unlikely to see Cassie much before she went to bed at six-thirty or seven.

  He entered the stable office and headed for the land line telephone. "Who am I talking to, Ana?"

  "Nobody. I called you in about something else."

  She nodded toward a young man standing by Shane's desk. His shirt was printed with the logo of the Frontier Hotel.

  "Special delivery," she said.

  The young man handed Shane an envelope, printed with the same logo. "My orders were to put this in your hands and your hands only."

  "Who…?"

  "Your wife."

  Inside the envelope was a key card and a room number. Ana's wide grin told him she was in on it. "What about the phone consultation?" he asked.

  "I made it up. Had to put something on your schedule to keep you free. Mariah's been trying to make this happen for awhile now."

  "Is Cassie with her?"

  "Are you kidding? Adults only. If you want to know who's taking care of Cassie, you're looking at her. Megan and Josie are spending the night at your house, too. Count it as Cassie's first sleepover party."

  "All night?"

  "See you in the morning, Boss. Don't worry about clothes. Mariah said you won't need any."

  Shane pointed his finger at Ana. "If you tell the hands--"

  "I'm fired. You'll be glad to know, as far as they're concerned, you're checking on a new mare you're thinking about buying, Mariah's working late, and yours truly is filling in as temporary nanny."

  "Bless you, Ana. Is this when you ask for a raise? Because now would be a good time."

  "As a matter of fact--"

  Shane was out the door.

  * * * * *

  As soon as Mariah heard the key in the door, she swung it open. She was wearing the roomy, full-length robe provided by the hotel. She drew him inside the room and closed the door.

  "We have thirteen hours, just the two of us."

  Shane noted the room service trays on the either side of the bed, loaded with meat and cheese and fruit, the thick, terrycloth robe laid on the bedspread, the turn-down service with the inch square chocolates on the pillows, and hung his hat on the hook by the door. "I needed this. How did you know?"

  Swamped by the man-sized robe, Mariah was barefoot. She slipped her arms around his waist. "Because you're my husband and I love you more than life itself. How's that for a cliché?"

  He hugged her, kissed her forehead and spoke against it, lips tickling her skin. "I am definitely in love with my wife. But this sex maniac she turns into makes it hard to stay on her good side."

  "Is that supposed to make sense?"

  "You get the gist." Rearranging her robe, she used his thigh like a slide between her legs, moving sensually against him. "You're starting to feel pretty good inside, aren't you?" he asked.

  "I started feeling good the moment I came up with this diabolical plan. I promise we'll get enough rest because we both need it. But first we wear each other out." She undid his belt buckle.

  He caught her hands, slowing her down. "Nope. None of this rush to the end without the buildup. Thirteen hours gives us plenty of time to do both."

  "I wo
uldn't be adverse to going for three, and I'm not talking about napping twice."

  "We'll see. This old country boy can only focus on one thing at a time."

  He palmed her breasts through her robe, barely skimming the tips of her nipples, unspooling the sensual ache spreading outward from her quivering thighs to those quivering tips. Shane whispered in her ear. "Like these breasts of yours. I can't seem to keep my hands off them."

  Mariah whispered too, embarrassed. "They're saggy at the moment. Prepare yourself. It's not very attractive."

  He zoomed his voice to full volume, "My God, woman. How can you say such a thing? They fed our child and if you wanna know the truth, just thinking about them feeds me, too. Don't you dare criticize any part of my magnificent wife, do you hear?"

  "You silly man. I have to believe the silly things you say because you say them like you mean it, with such conviction."

  "You are beautiful, Mariah. Say it with conviction."

  To his delight, she giggled. "Thank you, Shane."

  He made her giggle plenty that evening. And when dawn broke through the curtains, she snuggled up to him, squirmy and wet, ready and eager, giggling again because they still had an hour and she had planned what was in store for him next.

  * * * * *

  Alone and working at her desk in her storefront office, Mariah ignored two phone calls from the stables. If Shane needed to reach her, their arrangement was he should call her personally from his cell phone. He had his own ringtone and Mariah was careful to answer it immediately. It kept complaining about her hours to a minimum. Luckily, he didn't call often.

  She couldn't ignore Ana's headlong rush into her office, however. Deliberately jangling the bells attached to storefront's door handle, Ana ran straight for Mariah's purse and threw it over her shoulder.

  "I tried to reach you. Why didn't you answer your phone?"

  "My secretary is out sick. What is it?"