The Cowboy's Miracle

by Penelope Marzec

She recalled Seth saying the same thing about Marshall, but evidently, the crash didn’t teach him anything. He wouldn’t admit it was largely his fault. Why was he trying to smooth his way into her good graces again?

  Was Marshall the best she could do? He had told her so many times she believed it, and it was true most men cringed when they saw her hands. Except Seth.

  She held up her hands and studied them. Both of them worked—sort of—thanks to endless physical therapy. Still, the pinky and her fourth finger of her right hand didn’t move much. Her sense of touch was minimal.

  She dropped her hands. “I should wear gloves all the time.”

  The raccoon stared at her. She glared back at him.

  “I’m intelligent. I’ve got a successful business. The appearance of my hands is not important.”

  The raccoon growled at her.

  “I’ll give the chocolates to you!” she vowed.

  Chapter Eight

  Seth took it slow and easy. The muscles in his legs and hips stretched. He moseyed along the fence. The alpacas on the other side peered at him with interest. Gabriella’s ladies appeared curious, not fearful. Surprisingly, Navigator perked up his ears when he noticed the alpacas.

  “You must be getting mighty lonely.” Seth smoothed his hand down the horse’s neck. “I’ve got to find a barn full of horse friends for you.”

  The ladies craned their necks upward and Navigator eyed them for a few moments before he sighed, shook his big head, and moved onward.

  “Did the ladies ask you where Harley was?” Seth asked the horse.

  Navigator gave another sigh.

  “I suppose that’s either a yes or a no.” Seth took in a deep breath. He was in the saddle again and life was good.

  The shallow stream running along the edge of the farm wasn’t frozen. It lay about twenty feet from the back of the barn and the guesthouse. Navigator was willing to get his feet wet. They crossed the water into the park—the one Flint had mentioned—which was on the other side. A dirt road followed the stream and led out to Winder Lane. No gate blocked access to the dirt road, making it possible for anyone to drive in, wade through the stream, and poison the animals—or steal them. A chill went up his spine.

  He returned to the barn and swung out of the saddle and down to the ground without too much difficulty.

  “Yee haw.” He made a fist and shook his head. If his fans could see him now, they would be under-impressed. As he led Navigator into the barn, Gabriella’s youngest employee came out with his head down and his hands shoved in his pockets.

  “Did you lose your best friend?” Seth asked.

  Greg jerked his head up. “Oh, hi. No, Miss Cavallo wouldn’t let me take a picture with the raccoon. She said if he scratched me I’d get rabies.”

  “What raccoon?” Seth asked.

  Greg told him about the exterminator’s trap. “The raccoon is real mad. He keeps growling, but it would make an awesome picture.”

  Seth explained his experience with the series of rabies shots he’d gotten after he was bit by a rat. “In the old days, the shots were very painful. It’s not as bad now, but it’s not worth the risk. If you get rabies, there is no cure.”

  “Not even antibiotics?” Greg asked.

  “Nope. You get rabies, you die.”

  Greg shot a worried look toward the loft. “Miss Cavallo is still up there. You don’t suppose he can escape—do you?”

  Seth thought about it for only a moment. “I’ll check on her.” He wrapped Navigator’s reins on a fence rail and glanced up at the tall ladder. “Piece of cake.” His few days of living a regular life had toughened him. He ascended the ladder smoothly.

  When he reached the top, Gabriella did not turn around. Figuring she must not have heard his approach, he watched as she held her hands toward the light fixture on the ceiling. Turning her hands over, she seemed to be studying them.

  Then she started to speak—to the raccoon.

  Pain stabbed at Seth’s heart. She said little about her injured hands, but from her words, it was obvious the hurt went deep.

  When she finished speaking, she whirled around, saw him, and let out a cry of shock.

  “Chocolate is poisonous to raccoons.” It was all he could think to say. “Do you intend to kill him?”

  “N-no,” she stuttered. “The exterminator is going to cart him away. He should be here soon.”

  “Where was the critter’s nest?” Seth asked.

  “I-I don’t know.” She glanced around the loft.

  He stepped up onto the floor of the loft. “Any hay he soiled must be thrown out.”

  The raccoon growled at him as he walked by it.

  “You should have cozied up in a hollow tree, old pal. Now you’ll be rehabilitated. I didn’t like rehab. I bet you won’t either.”

  Gabriella followed Seth as he wandered behind the hay bales along the eaves of the barn. “Rehab isn’t bad.”

  “The food is bland and the portions are tiny. My roommates were crabby and despite the length of time I was in there, I never got the bed by the window. The lights are on everywhere all night and there’s constant noise. It’s tough to sleep.”

  “But you’re better,” she put her hand on his arm and gazed up at him with sincerity.

  “I suppose you think I should be grateful.” He stared at her full, rosy lips. Warmth shot through him.

  “Yes.” Her breath smelled like spring.

  Gabriella wasn’t like any other woman he had known. He slid his arm around her and drew her to him. She didn’t resist. He nearly got lost in her tangle of curly hair, but then he found her sweet mouth—warm and waiting.

  Sinking into the softness of her lips, his soul soared. Holding onto the rein of a bucking bronco usually eased his troubled mind, but this was far better. His worries faded away as he explored her silken honey.

  “Hey! Miss Cavallo, are you up here?” A voice called out from the ladder of the loft.

  “That’s the exterminator.” Gabriella pushed Seth away gently. “Hi, Frank. I’m here along the eaves.” She hurried out from behind the hay bales.

  Seth’s heart pounded in his chest and he raked his hand through his hair. Why did he allow himself to get caught up in the moment? He knew better. Gabriella was different but she was still a woman—and women took advantage of men in whatever ways they could. He was already working for her. Who could tell what other plans she had for him?

  He continued walking behind the hay bales, along the eaves of the barn. As he rounded the corner, he discovered the raccoon’s hideout.

  “I found the nest!” He put his hands on his hips and stared at it. Something about it was a bit odd—even for a raccoon. He studied it from a different angle until he realized what bothered him.

  As Gabriella and the exterminator came toward him, he lifted up a sweatshirt. It bore the logo of the Colorado Buffaloes emblazoned across the front. Alarmed, he dropped it. Sweat coated his brow as a cold sickness spread through him.

  “Is something the matter?” Gabriella asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  Seth walked away without answering.

  * * *

  Gabriella tossed and turned all night. The taste of Seth’s lips lingered on her tongue. He’d been gentle and slow, reminding her of warm summer breezes. But after he picked up the sweatshirt in the raccoon’s nest, his entire demeanor changed. With fear written on his features, he hurried out of the barn, got in his truck, and didn’t return to the guesthouse until after eleven. What had frightened him?

  The next morning, before Gabriella left for church services, a deliveryman arrived with a long white box. Without a doubt, twelve, perfect, unblemished long-stemmed, red roses lay inside. She didn’t open the box. She planned to dump the flowers in the compost pile later in the day.

  Every time she thought about Marshall, his boorish behavior, and the car crash in the snow, bitterness ate her up inside. If he was the best man available for her, she was better off with no
man at all.

  She ran her tongue along her lips, still tasting Seth’s kiss there. Why had he kissed her? Worse, why did she kiss him back? He was a good-looking hunk of eye candy, but he was also Grammy’s grandson—and might make trouble for her when Grammy died.

  Why would a Colorado Buffaloes’ sweatshirt cause such consternation for him? She thought cowboys weren’t afraid of anything. From what she heard at the farmers’ market, he never blinked an eye when he went after a two-thousand-pound bull.

  Seth had diagnosed the alpaca’s illness, stood beside her when Harley was carted away, and questioned the animal control officer about the animal’s medication. Not only that, Seth made terrific chili and came to pick her up on the highway after the crash. He held her hand—as if it wasn’t a repulsive thing. He was kind, though the possibility of contesting the will and collecting an inheritance might be a motive for him.

  Marshall gave her expensive gifts and took her to fancy places, but had an annoying habit of telling her what she should do. He never touched her hand at all.

  She decided to chop the roses into itty-bitty pieces before she threw them in the compost bin.

  She was falling in love with Seth. It was the wrong thing to do, but she couldn’t help herself. Today, after church, she would bake fourteen dozen cookies with Seth by her side. She smiled.

  What a perfect Sunday!

  When she went outside, she saw Seth mounting Navigator. Despite all of yesterday’s excitement, she had informed him of the time for church services.

  “Good morning,” he called to her once he was in the saddle. “I’ve taken care of your fleecy ladies.”

  “Um, thanks,” she said. “I’m going to church.”

  “I’ll do my praying on Navigator.” He tipped his hat and rode off—slowly—toward the field calling out. “I’ll be back long before it’s cookie-baking time.”

  She got into her car and drove off. A few moments before, she had been filled with anticipation. Now, doubt took hold of her once more.

  She’d fully expected him to join her, but he never said he would. He nodded—as if to acknowledge the fact he heard her. Nothing more.

  Marshall always attended the services. At least with him at a conference this weekend, she could relax and enjoy the service. However, she pressed her lips firmly together and vowed that no matter how many boxes of chocolates or roses he sent to her, she was not going to go out with him anymore.

  When she faced him, she would be cool and distant, but polite. She intended to state the truth. It was her busy time of the year. Orders were pouring in and she must fill them. Potted herbs made wonderful gifts. She needed to make more wreaths because she sold every one at the farmer’s market.

  In addition, the carriage house must be decorated for the season. Plus, she had a great deal of planning to do for all of the events which would be held there.

  Yes, she was far too busy to see him—even for dinner.

  Her shoulders slumped in despair. Her excuses were useless. She should say no. Plain and simple.

  She pulled into the church parking lot, took a deep breath, and said a little prayer for strength, guidance, and whatever else she needed to break off her relationship with the dentist.

  After the service, she usually stayed for fellowship afterwards, but today she wanted to get back and start on the cookie baking. Some of the Happy Hookers waylaid her to tell her how much they missed their weekly meeting in the Carriage House.

  When Gabriella hurried across the parking lot, Greg came up to her.

  “One of the guys went to Cowtown last summer and told me Dr. Seth is a famous rodeo star. I want to ask him if he can give me lessons riding broncs.”

  “I thought you were going to buy a car,” Gabriella questioned.

  “I don’t have enough for a down payment, but if I won the rodeo, I would.”

  “Dr. Seth’s hip was broken when a bull trampled him.” Gabriella hoped to discourage the young man from such a dangerous undertaking.

  “My friend told me about it, but he said stuff like that usually never happens. It was a freak accident. Anyhow, I gotta get a car because I have a girlfriend.”

  Gabriella tried to hide her shock. “How long have you known each other?”

  “Since last week.” Greg blushed. “She-ah—she found me at an online dating site.”

  Gabriella’s curiosity got the best of her. She wanted to hear about Greg’s girlfriend. He told her she lived with her parents, had siblings, and attended the same community college at night as he did.

  “You could have met on campus,” Gabriella noted.

  “She’s going to be a librarian. We’d never be in the same class.” He proceeded to explain all the finer points of finding someone on a dating site. “No offense, Miss Cavallo, but it would be easy for you to find a nicer guy than Dr. Cavity.”

  Gabriella bit her lip. The men she met wanted a perfect woman with lovely, tapered fingernails.

  As she drove toward home, she wondered about the best way to bring up the topic of faith with Seth. Maybe it was none of her business. He wouldn’t be staying in the guesthouse very long. Yet she couldn’t help but wonder whether he had any church affiliation. Gramps and Grammy were dedicated churchgoers. Surely Seth’s father raised him to be a believer.

  It was still early in the day when she pulled into her driveway. A black SUV, an older model with a few dents and a faded finish, was parked next to the barn. A cold stone settled in her stomach.

  She told herself it must be Seth’s friend. She got out of her car and peered into the windows of the car. Nobody was inside.

  The barn door was unlocked.

  She glanced at the step stool by the fence. If Seth had returned from his ride, he would have put the stool away. He must still be out riding. A sliver of fear crept up her spine as she remembered the incident with the Jimsonweed.

  The alpacas stared at her expectantly. They stood in the sunshine outside the barn in their pen.

  She moved away from the barn and called the police chief. Keeping her voice low, she told him about the unknown car and her concern. He promised to send a patrol car right away. He warned her to get inside her house and lock the door.

  She agreed and disconnected the call. But what was going on in the barn? What if someone was putting poison into the feed bins? What if someone intended to set the barn on fire?

  What if Seth returned and the guy in the barn aimed a gun at him?

  Her mouth turned as dry as sandpaper. She glanced at her watch. If the policeman was dispatched from the municipal building it would take him ten minutes to arrive as long as he ignored the posted speed limit signs.

  She figured if she stayed out of sight, she should be safe. Better to discover what mischief the intruder had in mind. She crept along the western side of the barn, heading for the small back door on the northern end. She ducked under each window and kept checking behind her to see if Seth had returned.

  She turned the corner of the barn and reached the small door which opened with a fancy, old-fashioned key she used as a key ring for her other more modern keys. The door led into what had once been a tack room, but was now a storage area for extra fencing. She edged up to the window and peeked in. Nobody was in the room.

  She checked her watch. Her call to the police chief ended seven minutes ago. The patrol car should be arriving soon. She put the large key into the lock and turned it. The loud click seemed to reverberate everywhere—or maybe it was only the pounding of her heart.

  Taking a deep, slow breath, she pushed against the door and edged inside. Despite the roaring in her ears from her racing pulse, she heard the snap of a plastic feed bin. She waited a minute. Another snap came to her ears.

  Fury took hold of her. He was tampering with the alpacas’ food. She glanced around for a weapon of some sort. The posthole digger seemed the best choice, but it was heavy. She didn’t have the muscle to lift it for long. Her wrath cooled a little and reason returned. She shouldn’t
confront the intruder. What if he had a gun?

  She stared at her watch again. Where was the cop? It was well past ten minutes.

  One heavy clunk and then another echoed in the barn. She recognized the sound. Boots on the wooden floor!

  “Who are you?” Seth’s voice rang out loud and clear. He was back.

  A barrage of foul language and the thuds of a scuffle erased her brief moment of relief. Fearing Seth’s safety, she came out in time to see the stranger pick up a rake.

  “No!” she screamed.

  The man turned and Seth socked him in the jaw so hard she heard a crack. The intruder went down, out cold from the force of the blow.

  The police chief and a patrolman appeared in the doorway, aimed their guns, and said, “Put your hands up.”

  Seth obeyed them.

  Gabriella ran toward them. “No! He’s the good guy! The bad guy is on the floor.”

  The patrolman still asked Seth to lean up against the wall and patted him down. The police chief called an ambulance and searched the intruder.

  The chief took a gun out of the unconscious man’s waistband and held it up. “Loaded.”

  Gabriella didn’t think there was enough air to breathe. Suddenly weak and dizzy, she leaned against a stall and slid to the floor.

  “Gabby.” Seth was beside her. “Are you hurt?”

  She shook her head. “Just…feeling faint. The gun…I…I’m…shocked.”

  “I told you to stay in your house,” the police chief noted.

  “He was opening the food bins.” Her lips quivered.

  Seth squeezed her hand. “Will you be all right?”

  “Water might help. Please?” she asked.

  “Right away.” He went out the barn door.

  “Isn’t that the vet?” the chief questioned.

  Gabriella nodded. “I asked if he would help out during our busy season.”

  “So he’s working for you?” The police chief’s phone crackled, but he ignored it.

  “Yes, but he’s also looking for a position with a practice or vet hospital.” Should she tell him Seth Holmes was Grammy’s grandson?

  Seth returned with a bottle of water. “Here you go.”