by Aliyah Burke
The next day he walked into the kitchen to grab some lunch and paused at what Rosa had on the television in there. Dressage.
“What’s this?” he asked as he took his sandwich from her.
“Nationals, up in New York. Finn’s at it, I was hoping to see her.”
That’s all he needed to know. Plate in hand, he made his way to the sofa and turned on television, searching for the channel Rosa had it on. When he found it, he settled back against the leather of his sofa. He’d never been one to watch dressage, but here and now he found himself completely drawn in to the display on the screen.
He was pissed at himself that he hadn’t any clue who she worked for so he could listen for the name of the farm. Or the rider. The station switched rings and the announcer spoke of Gerda Torkjelson and the camera flashed to a young girl waiting to enter the ring. He could identify her Scandinavian roots even from the television, with her pale blonde hair and fair skin. It wasn’t the child, however, who caught his eye. No, it was the woman next to her, hand on the child’s leg and whispering what he imagined to be encouragement. His woman. Samantha Finley.
Black jeans, boots, and a gray hem hung from under a hunter green and cranberry jacket, which had cobalt blue piping and lettering on it. The day was overcast and slightly windy. Samantha’s hair was drawn tight only to hang in a thick braid down to her shoulders. It was her expression, which would have taken him to her knees had he not been already seated. The joy and love there, for all to see.
His heart broke a bit more when he witnessed a tall man, fit and dressed in the typical competition outfit strode up to them, placed his hand against the small of Samantha’s back, and leaned in to talk to the child as well. Dustin cursed when the camera followed the youngster as she began her entrance to the ring.
The jumps were lower than they had them for adults, but the girl handled them like a pro. Her horse took them without any hesitation, and he couldn’t see any on the part of the child either. She rode with grace and poise belying her young age. The stands erupted in applause when she finished, but he didn’t take his gaze from the woman who awaited the duo as they left.
Samantha reached for the reins and led them away while the man—who’d dared touch her—walked on the other side, his hand now on the young girl. Later when they showed older ones riding again, back in the ring with the full height jumps, he saw Samantha once more. This time she was with others who wore the same color jacket as she did. They always had happy expressions on their faces, and the camaraderie showed through like a beacon in the night.
He lived for the moments they showed the team up close, waiting and watching the one out in the arena. God, he missed her. Rubbing his chest, he sat up as if it would bring him closer to her.
Although work waited for him, he watched some of his men working with some of the horses. He knew later on that week Judd Travers would be stopping by so he decided to stay in his office and get some work done. More like he watched the television for more sightings of Samantha. The place she worked for was Cypress Sky Farms. At least he’d discovered that much. And he had the address right there before him.
He picked up the note, which had his ranch name emblazoned across the top. Diamond J. below that, the details to where he could go and retrieve his woman. He’d dealt with Charlotte’s father and informed him of all she had been up to along with a warning that he would ruin them if she came after him with slanderous accusations ever again.
When his doorbell rang, he frowned slightly. Who could that be? His housekeeper had left for the day so he made his way from office to front door. The person on the other side was a surprise.
Evan Finley stood there, his face an unreadable mask. “Evening, Mr. Finley. What can I do for you?”
“I need a few minutes of your time.”
Dustin waved him in and watched him progress by, his limp barely lingering. Closing the door, Dustin waited while the man made his way to the living room. Mr. Finley turned to face Dustin once he’d crossed the entire room, pausing before the fireplace. Evan had removed the hat from his head, and Dustin noticed the way he gripped it before him. Almost unsure.
“Can I get you something to drink?” he offered.
“No, thank you.” Evan sniffed. “What is it you want from my Finn?”
Sure, they’d discussed how Evan would protect his daughter. Hell, part of him expected something like this from the man again, but the directness and anger that lined the question threw him a bit.
“I want her love.”
“So sure you love her?”
Dustin never even hesitated. “Absolutely.”
“How can you be so sure it’s not just lust?”
“Your daughter, Mr. Finley, is more important to me than anything. I was an idiot and never realized that until she left Branchwater and returned to Maryland.”
“More important than your ranch?”
“Yes. This has been in our family for generations, and I would prefer to pass it along to my children, but if that’s what it takes to be with Samantha, then so be it.” The words he uttered were honest and true.
Evan stared at him for a few moments then walked toward him, reminding Dustin of the man he had been in his prime. Toe to toe, the men held each other’s gazes.
“Take care you don’t hurt my baby girl.”
“Is that your way of giving me your blessing to marry your daughter?”
Almost conversationally, Evan said, “You know, she called me today and said she’d not make it home for Thanksgiving this year and Christmas was questionable. For whatever happened between the two of you, she’s not coming home, thank you very much. Now she’s hiding. Good luck.” Evan walked by him, and Dustin turned in time to see him letting himself out of the house.
* * * *
Three months later
The cold wind set her teeth chattering. Barely after Thanksgiving and we’re having cold snaps like this. It’s not going to be a pretty winter. She turned the collar up on her coat and ducked her head as she strode toward her truck, her breath fogging her way. Hand warmers, that’s what she needed. Something, anything to help the feeling come back into her digits.
Leaning over, she rooted around for the smaller nipper she needed. She’d come out here to a horse rescue and given of her time to ensure the feet were neatly trimmed. Unlike Cypress Sky, Equine Haven didn’t have heated barns. So, she worked in the cold.
Lord, what she wouldn’t give for a hot mug of java. Perhaps two. A long hot shower was definitely in order when she got back. Shoulda gone home for Thanksgiving. And she knew that, but she wasn’t ready to face Branchwater again. All the other years she’d gone back, she’d not even left the ranch, but this time, she didn’t think she had the strength to stay away from him.
Him. Dustin Kane. A man who had way too much power over her. She didn’t like it so she combated it the only way she knew how. Avoidance. Did she miss him? Hell yes. Not to mention the way he had this uncanny ability of making her body sing under his touch. She planned to invite her daddy up here for the holiday this year.
She blew out a breath and shook her head, as it only chilled her more. Tugging down her cap, she made her way back to the open barn where her second to last horse waited. It didn’t take her too long to finish his hooves and set him back out with the others. He was a mini and truly cute. Her heart broke when she saw the condition of the final horse. His hooves were so long they’d begun to curl, and the poor thing could hardly walk.
His eyes watched her as she tied him up. “It’s okay, boy, I promise I’ll make this as painless as I can. You’ll be fine in just a bit.”
People who treat their horses like this ought to be shot, revived, and shot again. She hefted her larger nippers and grinned. Or let me use these on parts of their anatomy. It took a few tries, but she got the gelding to put his foot on the hoof stand and she got to work on him, taking off all the curl so he could at least stand easier. It took a while and despite the cold, she was sweat
ing as she finished.
The rescue’s dogs were dodging in and out swiping the clippings, but she didn’t care so long as the horse didn’t seem bothered by their presence. Giving him a break, she patted him while waiting to warm up a bit. He helped, and she murmured little things to him as she tried to loosen up her tight muscles.
“Can’t put this off anymore.” She went to his left front and began filing it down. By the time she finished all she could do for him at the moment, the lights had come on and the temperature had dropped considerably.
“You’re still here?”
“Hey, Mike.” The owner of the rescue walked up, bundled up as she was against the elements. “Yes, this one took a lot longer than I anticipated. I think he’s about had his limit so I need to stop. I’ll leave him with some protective boots on his feet until I can come back out and get him shoed. He’s just put up with a lot today, and I don’t want to traumatize him any more than I have to.”
“You’re a saint, Finn,” he said, patting the old gelding. “Are you sure I can’t pay you for this?”
“Kinda defeats the purpose of me doing it for free if you pay me, Mike. Don’t worry about it. It was well worth my time. Besides, you have more important things to put that money to use on. You have to feed these guys.”
It didn’t take her long to put the boots on the brown gelding. Once she was done, Mike took him to a stall and fed him. She gathered up some things and took them to her truck before starting it, to warm up. A few more trips and she was all packed. Every inch of her ached, and she longed for a hot shower.
“You got plans for the upcoming holiday?” he asked as he escorted her the final time to her truck.
“I’m having my dad come up. Why?” Hopefully he’ll come up, but this weather isn’t going to sell him on a visit.
“We’re having a small celebration here since it also marks our five years of being here and doing what we do. If you’re free we’d love to have you. Bring your dad. Not a problem.”
“I’ll keep it in mind, Mike, thank you.”
“No, thank you, Finn.”
She smiled. “Not a problem. I’ll call you early next week and set up a time to come back and finish him up.”
They shook hands, and she hopped in her truck, grateful for the warmth, which permeated the icy coating she had all over her. Shrugging out of her jacket, she turned up the heaters and groaned in relief. She allowed herself a few moments then put the truck in gear and got on her way.
Back at Cypress Sky Farms, she headed to her place and made a beeline for the shower. Finally clean and warm, she stepped from the bathroom dressed in flannel bottoms and a sweatshirt. Thick wool socks covered her feet, and she went to her kitchen where she whipped up a quick dinner of barbecue.
Seated on her loveseat, a quilt over her legs, she opened a book and started to read. She’d wanted to read this one for a while now but hadn’t had the time. When she woke two hours later, still on page one, she realized she still didn’t have the energy. After she folded up the blanket, she made her way the short distance to her bed and crawled eagerly beneath the covers.
The next day she finished re-shoeing Gerda’s horse and had just turned him back out when she heard someone call her name.
Rotating around, she watched as Rolf and Gunnar walked into view. She latched the fence and tugged up her gloves.
“You called?” she asked.
“You have a visitor,” Gunnar announced, a strange gleam in his eyes.
“Is it Mike? I told him I’d call him next week but maybe something came up? I’ve not had my phone on me all day.”
“Nope, not Mike.” Rolf crossed his arms, looking not the least perturbed by the cold weather. Not that Gunnar did either. Perhaps it was just her who felt colder than usual.
“Okay, who is it then? I just finished Gerda’s horse so I can meet with them.” It wasn’t totally unusual for local barns to come seek her out, and unlike some farriers she didn’t mind going out to take care of only one horse.
“Who’s Mike?”
She’d turned back to double-check the latch had been engaged and froze at the sound of that Texas drawl. Time crawled and she couldn’t quite get her breathing or heart rate to calm down. Surely I am hearing things.
“Samantha?”
Nope, not hearing things. Gulping, she turned, locking all emotion away in a large, dark cave, and faced the man who belonged to that voice of sin. Dustin Kane. Her knees went weak and her palms began sweating. She fought the need to curl her fingers into her palms.
“Dustin,” she said. “What are you doing here?”
It wasn’t fair for him to look so delicious. Facing him, she realized how lacking her imagination had been with its creation of him. She bit her lower lip trying to contain her whimper of lust. That’s what it had to be, right? Lust. She couldn’t possibly… Why even continue that line of thinking, she knew well what it was.
He ran his fingers along the brim of his black Stetson, slightly adjusting it. She trailed her gaze along his frame with his wide shoulders that seemed able to hold everything up, down along lean hips and over his muscled thighs. Sure, the trench he wore kind of hampered her view, but she knew firsthand what he looked like and it wasn’t something she would be forgetting so long as her memory remained intact.
The collar of his coat turned up, and snow dotted the inky blackness of the leather. She glanced at Rolf and his son before returning her attention to the man who stood a head above them. They looked like swimmers with their lean bodies next to Dustin.
“Who’s Mike?” he asked again, striding toward her, pausing when the toes of his worn black cowboy boots touched the toes of her Justin work boots. His blue eyes gleamed at her, and she fought the butterflies in her stomach.
“H…he owns Equine Haven.”
“Which is?”
“Just as it sounds, a rescue. What are you doing here?”
“Taking you home,” Dustin said.
A fist seized her heart. “My father?”
He moved some of her hair back with a black-gloved hand. “Fine last I knew. Can we go talk somewhere?”
“Why would you be here if…” She turned to Rolf. “Did you need anything else from me?”
The man grinned even though his son scowled. “Go on. Good to meet you, Mr. Kane.”
“And you, Mr. Torkjelson.” Dustin put his gaze back on her. “Lead the way.”
She muttered her farewell to the other two in Norwegian and led the way to her small apartment. The snow fell thick and fast by the time they made it, and she pushed inside the warm space. She’d managed to pull one glove off before he wheeled her around, spun them so she was between him and the door, and slammed his mouth over hers.
Her legs shook and she gripped onto him, the leather of his coat, cold beneath her bare hand. It didn’t matter. He smelled of leather, horse, and a scent she simply labeled “Dustin Kane” for nothing else created it. A perfect blend of outdoors, man, and his own scent.
His tongue thrust into the depths of her mouth, and she whimpered as one hand curved about the nape of her neck, possessively anchoring her to him. His other hand cupped her ass, drawing her near enough to feel the hard ridge in his jeans. Wetness flooded her and she reached up, looping her arms around his neck, knocking his Stetson from his head, and sank her fingers into the cold silken strands of his hair.
“Samantha,” he rumbled against her lips.
Coldness poured over her and she released him. His larger body still blocked her in but at least she wasn’t draped all over him like a whore. She cleared her throat and tried all manner of things to not think about how amazing it had been being back in his embrace.
“What are you doing here, Dustin?”
Shower. Food. Change of clothing. Oh yes, a shower would be nice. A long, hot, and soapy shower with…nope, not going there. She ducked under his arm and shrugged out of her coat, hanging it on its hook.
He turned and leaned against the door he’
d just had her pinned against. His gaze remaining as sharp and burning as before. One finger at a time, he removed his black leather gloves, never taking his attention from her. Lord help her, it shouldn’t turn her on so much, watching such a thing. Yet it does, so what does that say about the type of person I am? Apparently horny.
“Planning on answering me?”
“You’ve been ignoring my calls.”
He removed his black duster, and she bit back a whimper. It truly wasn’t fair for a man to look so damn good. His hat he hung on the same hook he’d put his coat.
She finished taking off her own outerwear and did her best to ignore the mouthwatering specimen who took up most of the air in her small apartment. Or was it just her he made lightheaded? Either way, things weren’t good in her world for getting oxygen to the brain.
“I’ve been working,” she replied.
He cocked a brow. “Is that what we’re calling this?”
She narrowed her gaze and crossed her arms, warm and fuzzy feelings vanishing quicker than her warmth the moment she stepped outside. “Be careful, Dustin Kane. I realize while not a cutter like you or part of a huge ranch like the Diamond J, you may think my work small and inconsequential. But I won’t stand here and let you degrade what I do.”
He took two steps toward her, and she fought not to retreat the same amount.
“I’m not degrading what you do. I’m talking about the way those men out there look at you.”
She blinked a few times. “Rolf and Gunnar? Really? Rolf’s a happily married man and…eww, Gunnar is barely eighteen.” She waved him off. “Tell me what you’re doing here and make it fast, my day isn’t over yet.”
He pulled out a chair and sat as if he had all the time in the world. Irritation spiked along her spine. Dustin gave her a smile she’d seen on his face all the time in high school. One that bespoke he knew his effect on those of the opposite sex. Heck, perhaps even some of the same. Normally it would have worked on her but today, not so much.
“Come here.”
Damn man even crooked his finger at her. “Really? You think that’s going to work? What do you want, Dustin?”
