by Pamela Clare
“Yeah. He’s got a powerful sex drive and will do anything to mate with a mare in season. He won’t just kick down his stall and hers, he’ll also attack the geldings and any horse that gets in his way. Not all stallions are as randy or aggressive as Chinook, but any stallion can be a real problem if not handled correctly.”
Her eyes went wide. “Oh.”
Nate led her toward the riding barn, his dad following with Emily, who skipped and ran and pretended to gallop. “Have you ever ridden a horse?”
Megan shook her head. “No.”
Well, then he had a surprise for her.
When they entered the riding barn, she stopped. “Wow! This place is huge!”
“It’s not as big as some, but it’s enough for our needs. We’re able to exercise the horses indoors when it’s too cold or snowy outside.” He walked over to Buckwheat, who waited patiently, and unhitched him. “This is Buckwheat. He’s a big, old softie. I saddled him up so that you and Emily could go for a little ride.”
“Ride? A horse?” Megan’s eyes went wide, and she shook her head. “Oh, no. I don’t think I could—”
“Sure you can. That’s what people do with horses. I’ll be right here to help you.”
Nate’s dad walked in, Emily in hand. “Are you ready to ride, Miss Emily?”
“Come here, Emily.” Nate lifted Emily so that she could pet Buckwheat’s muzzle. “Can you say hello to Buckwheat?”
“Hello, Buckwheat!” Emily’s tiny voice rang out as she reached out to stroke the white star on the gelding’s forehead. “You’re a big horsie!”
If that wasn’t the damned cutest thing Nate had ever seen…
“Do you want to ride him?”
Emily nodded.
Nate turned to Megan. “I’ll help you into the saddle and adjust the stirrups, and then we’ll settle Emily in front of you.”
“I don’t know the first thing about riding. Are… Are you sure this is safe?”
Nate smiled. “I’m sure. Buckwheat is gentle, and I’ll have the reins.”
“Okay.” Megan walked over to the horse, looking as if she expected it to attack her.
And it hit Nate that so many people she ought to have been able to trust in her life had done just that. They’d neglected her, abused her, hurt her. He looked from her to the horse and realized that this would be good for Megan. The Cimarron had occasionally sold horses to an equine therapy program in Denver that helped abused children learn to trust again. There was no reason Buckwheat couldn’t help Megan in that same way.
Nate walked up close behind her. “You have nothing to worry about. He’s just a big teddy bear. See how calm he is?”
He took her left hand in his, stroked the gelding’s flank with her palm, sparks of awareness darting through him the moment his skin touched hers.
Buckwheat gave a soft whicker, looked back at them, and nuzzled Nate’s side.
Some of the tension seemed to leave Megan’s body. “He likes you.”
“He’s looking for treats, aren’t you, old boy?” Nate didn’t have anything in his pocket this time. He released Megan’s hand, checked the girth to make sure it hadn’t come loose since he’d fastened it, then took a firm hold of the reins. “Grab the saddle, lift your left foot into the stirrup, then use the strength of your leg to lift yourself up and astride the horse. When you’re seated, tuck your right foot in the other stirrup.”
“Okay.” She reached up and grasped the saddle, lifted her left foot until her toe caught the stirrup, then bounced on her right foot, struggling to mount.
“Let me help.” Nate handed Buckwheat’s reins to his dad and caught Megan around the waist, unable to keep from noticing the way her entire body tensed at the contact. “I’m just going to boost you. Give a little hop.”
On her next bounce, he used her upward momentum to lift her into the saddle.
“Just settle in while I adjust the stirrups.” He worked quickly, raising the left stirrup a few notches then doing the same to the right. “How do you feel?”
“Like I’m sitting miles off the ground on a very big animal that could kill me.” She sat stiffly, as if she feared the gelding might buck if she moved.
“Buckwheat wouldn’t hurt a flea.” Nate took the reins back from his dad. “We’ll just go for a walk so you can get used to this before we put Emily in the saddle. How does that sound?”
Megan gasped when the horse took its first steps.
“Easy, Megan. You’re okay.” Nate walked the perimeter of the riding barn, Buckwheat following meekly behind, all one thousand one hundred pounds of him.
They hadn’t gone far when Nate heard Megan laugh. He looked behind him to see her smiling, her cheeks flushed with excitement. She seemed to have forgotten her fear—both her fear of the horse and the fear that had driven her here.
“See? No worries.”
He stopped when he reached their starting point.
“Are you ready, little Miss Emily?” His dad walked over and lifted Emily into the saddle in front of Megan. “Megan, wrap one arm around Emily and use your free hand to hold onto the horn.”
Emily bounced in the saddle. “Giddy-up, Buckwheat! Go!”
As obedient as Buckwheat was, he was above taking orders from a preschooler and remained defiantly still.
Fighting a chuckle, Nate let Megan get settled. “Ready?”
She nodded.
Nate started off again, sharing a smile with his dad at Emily’s delighted squeal. The old man might have had reservations about the idea of Megan’s coming here, but he’d sure gotten into the spirit of the thing—lured, no doubt, by an adorable four-year-old with big blue eyes. He watched while Nate led the gelding around the barn once, twice, clearly as gratified by Emily’s happy chatter and the smile on Megan’s face as Nate was.
“How old were you when you started riding?” Megan asked as they neared the end of their third lap.
“I don’t remember not riding, so I must have been one or two.” He glanced up to find Megan watching him.
“How long have you lived here?”
“My great-grandfather bought this spread, passed it down to my grandfather. Now it belongs to my dad. I’ve always lived here. My parents rebuilt the main house when I was in high school. I spent most of the past decade going wherever Uncle Sam sent me, but this is home.”
“It must be wonderful to have such deep roots.” There was a hint of longing in Megan’s voice.
Nate halted Buckwheat.
His dad stepped forward. “Come on down, Miss Emily. Was that fun?”
Emily nodded, a big smile on her face.
“Your turn, Megan.” Nate scratched Buckwheat’s withers. “Just hold tight to the saddle or Buckwheat’s mane, lift your right leg over, and lower yourself to the ground.”
Megan nibbled her lower lip, looking down at the ground. “If I fall…”
“If you fall, I’ll be right here to catch you.” Nate watched as Megan grasped the pommel, lifted her right leg over the gelding’s rump, and lowered herself toward the ground.
She’d almost made it when she lost her balance and began to fall backward, her left foot stuck in the stirrup.
He dropped the reins, caught her around the waist with his arm, and drew her back against his chest. He tried not to notice how his pulse ratcheted up the moment he touched her or how good she smelled or how sweet she felt in his arms, her body soft and feminine with curves in all the right places. “I’ve got you.”
She turned in his arms and looked up at him through startled eyes. “Thank you.”
And he knew she felt it too—that jolt of awareness, attraction.
For a moment, neither of them spoke or moved.
From somewhere nearby, Nate’s dad cleared his throat. “Why don’t you three head back to the house while I settle Buckwheat in his stall?”
Megan pulled away, reached for Emily’s hand. “Thanks so much for this. I suppose we should be going before it gets too late or the ro
ads get bad.”
Nate walked to one of the side doors, opened it, and looked outside. Snow was falling thick and fast, the wind blowing hard, a good six inches already accumulated on the ground. He couldn’t even see the house. “It’s too late for that. It looks like you and Emily are our guests for the night.”
Megan let out a sigh. “Marc is going to be ticked.”
Chapter Six
Marc was ticked. “I knew you were going to get stuck up there. You barely know this guy. Are you involved with him?”
“No!” Megan felt her cheeks grow warm.
She wasn’t involved with Nate, but she was attracted to him. Or at least she thought she was. When he’d come up behind her, closed his hand over hers, and guided her fingers over the horse’s soft coat, she hadn’t felt sickened by his touch. Instead she’d felt an unfamiliar heat shimmer through her that had made it hard to breathe. And when she’d lost her balance getting off the horse, the shock of finding herself in his arms, his body warm and muscular against hers, had made her mind go blank.
“You sure about that?”
“I just came here so Emily could see the horses. Being surrounded by cops … I needed to get away. I had no idea we were going to get hit with a blizzard.”
And it was definitely a blizzard, the wind so strong that Megan had had to carry Emily, Nate guiding her from the stables to the house through near whiteout conditions, his arm around her shoulders.
“Do you trust him and his father around Emily?”
Megan glanced toward the kitchen, where Emily sat like a princess with a mug of hot cocoa and marshmallows, two big men seeing to her every whim.
“Yes. My pervert radar is pretty finely tuned, you know. I’m not catching any hinky vibes.” Megan took a deep breath and said what she needed to say, something she’d needed to say for a while now. “I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but I’m not the same person I was ten years ago or even four years ago. You need to trust me, Marc.”
For a moment Marc said nothing.
“You’re right.” The anger was gone from his voice. “I care about what happens to you. I don’t want to see you hurt again.”
“I know. You’ve always been there for me.”
“No, not always.” A heavy silence. “Well, I suppose you’re safer up there than you would be down here. We’re going through with the money drop tonight despite the storm. I have no idea if the bastards will show up. I guess we’ll see.”
Megan felt a hitch of fear in her stomach to think Marc and others would be out in the storm and in danger tonight. “Please be careful. I don’t want you or anyone else to get hurt.”
“Hey, we do this for a living, remember? I’ll let you know how it goes.”
“Thanks, Marc. I love you.”
“Love you, too, sis.”
Megan ended the call and walked back to the kitchen to find Emily with a cocoa mustache and a handful of extra marshmallows.
Nate looked up as she approached. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” But Megan could tell he didn’t believe her. “They’re going to drop off the money tonight and see if anyone shows up to take it.”
Jack stood, reached for a red-and-white checked apron that hung over the back of a nearby chair. “Nate has filled me in on what’s happening, so here’s my unsolicited advice. You’re safe and warm up here, and there’s nothing you can do about what happens in Denver tonight. So try to sit back, relax, and get ready to enjoy a pot of Cimarron Ranch Chili made by the expert. It’s a life-changing experience.”
Megan couldn’t help but smile at this smug declaration. “Can I help?”
“No!” Jack shook his head. “You all get the hell out of my kitchen.”
Nate shook his head, but the affection he felt for his father was plain to see. “Let me show you the house and get the two of you settled.”
He led Megan around the main floor. In the center were the great room, formal dining room, and the kitchen, which she had already seen. On the far side of the kitchen were a walk-in pantry, a wine cellar, a bathroom, a laundry room, and the five-car heated garage. On the far side of the great room were Jack’s office, three more bathrooms, an exercise room with a sauna, and a home theater with its own fireplace and an enormous flat-screen TV.
Upstairs, there were five bedrooms, each with its own television, bathroom and fireplace, and a library, which also had a fireplace and floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out toward the mountains. With the sun shining, the view would be staggering. As it was, all Megan could see was blowing snow.
“This is beautiful.” Megan had seen wealth before. Her adoptive parents were relatively wealthy, and their friends had been wealthy. But never had she seen anything to equal the comfort and beauty of the Cimarron, glass and stone and wood tastefully joining the interior of the house to the landscape outside.
“It’s a bit much for two people, but it’s home.” Nate led her to a bedroom with a big four poster bed covered with a blue and green quilt and matching shams. “Why don’t we put you in here? Do you want to share a bed with Emily, or would you rather have a room to yourself?”
“Oh, we can definitely share a bed. I don’t want to make any more trouble for you than I already have.”
Nate reached up, brushed his thumb down her cheek, leaving a trail of heat on her skin. “You haven’t made trouble for us, so put that idea out of your head.”
For the span of a heartbeat, maybe two, she found herself looking up at him, lost in the warmth of his blue eyes.
“Th-thank you.” Then she remembered. “I was planning to stay at Marc’s tonight, so I packed suitcases. I need to get them from the trunk of the car.”
“I’ll get them. You just make yourself at home.”
Home.
Megan sat on the bed and looked out the window at the swirling storm. And for the first time since Donny had forced his way back into her life, she felt … safe.
*
Nate turned up the lights as the credits rolled on Beauty and the Beast, a movie he hadn’t seen since… well, ever. He looked over to find Emily asleep on her mother’s lap, looking sweet as candy in fuzzy pink pajamas, her tiny body limp. Megan held her daughter, stroking Emily’s hair, a soft smile on her face. Out of nowhere, the photos from the Denver Independent article came back to him.
His urge to shelter and protect ratcheted up another notch. “Do you want me to carry her upstairs?”
Megan didn’t look thrilled by the idea. She clearly trusted very few people with her little girl. Nate couldn’t blame her for that. “It’s pretty far, isn’t it?”
“I promise I won’t drop her.”
Megan stood, shifting Emily into Nate’s arms.
Emily’s eyes opened, and she looked up at him from beneath heavy eyelids. She reached with one tiny hand, touched the scarred side of his face. Little blond brows furrowed, Emily’s sleepy eyes filling with a child’s sympathy. “Owie.”
Her eyes drifted shut again, her hand curling beneath her chin as she snuggled against Nate’s shoulder.
Blindsided by the child’s simple gesture, her innocent compassion, Nate’s throat went tight, a hitch behind his breastbone where his heart was supposed to be.
Get a grip, Marine.
He carried her down the hall, up the stairs, and into the guestroom, where his dad had a warm fire already burning. He waited while Megan pulled back the covers, then laid Emily gently on the bed, watching as Megan drew the blankets and quilt up to her daughter’s chin, the moment satisfying something deep inside him.
He spoke quietly. “My dad and I usually end the day talking around the fire. You’re more than welcome to join us.”
Megan bent down to plant a kiss on Emily’s forehead then stood and smiled at him in a way that made his pulse kick up a notch. “I’d like that.”
She followed him downstairs, where they found his dad, tumbler of scotch in one hand, cell phone in the other. He was sending a text message, probably discussing h
is plans for tomorrow with Chuck, the foreman who’d been with the ranch as long as Nate could remember. They would need to drive hay out to the cattle every day now until the snow melted enough for the cows to forage again.
His dad looked up. “Is that adorable baby girl of yours tucked in?”
“Yes, she is.” Megan sat across from him.
Nate reached for the bottle of Aberfeldy and a tumbler, poured himself a drink, truly needing it. “Want some scotch or a glass of wine?”
“I don’t drink.” She smiled almost apologetically. “But I wouldn’t mind some of your hot chocolate.”
“You got it.” Nate set his drink aside and stood, but his old man stopped him.
“Sit down. I’ll get it.” His dad tossed back the rest of his scotch, tucked his cell phone in his pocket. “I make it from scratch, you know—milk, cocoa, sugar, touch of vanilla. None of that powdered shit.”
“Thank you.” Megan’s lips twitched as she watched the old man walk away, a glint of laughter in her eyes. She met Nate’s gaze. “Your father is a real character.”
“He fought with the Army Rangers in Vietnam. I’ve always had a world of respect for him.” Nate took a drink. “The past few years have been hard on him. He misses my mom. She died five years ago.”
Megan’s gaze shifted up to the family photo on the mantel. “He told me. I’m sorry for your loss.”
Nate was surprised the old man had mentioned his mother to Megan. He didn’t often speak of his grief. “I was downrange when it happened.”
She got a puzzled look on her face.
Quit speaking in military jargon, jarhead.
“I was deployed in Afghanistan. I was deployed a lot.”
“Is that why you’re not married?” Megan’s eyes went wide, and she began to babble. “Oh, God! I’m … I’m sorry. That’s a personal question. I would think a handsome man like you … I mean … It’s really none of my business.”
“No, that’s okay.” Nate was both amused by her obvious embarrassment and moved by what she’d said. It had been a long damned time since anyone had called him handsome. “I was almost married once. I met Rachel in college. We reconnected when I was home on leave. I thought that was it. I proposed a couple years later. When I was wounded, it was just too much for her. She came to visit me about a week after I arrived at the Brooke Army Medical Center in San Antonio. I was drugged out of my mind. I thought she’d come to be with me, but she’d come to end it. She just couldn’t handle it.”
