by Karen Rock
Boyd swept an arm around Joy’s shoulder and they swapped a long, indecipherable look. At Joy’s nod, Boyd said, “I’ll see her to her door.”
“So you two are...”
“Friends,” Boyd finished, resolute. “And I’m honored that Joy will allow me that much. She’s an incredible woman.”
Yes, she was. No one knew that better than her kids. He didn’t need Boyd telling him so.
“Cades and Lovelands aren’t friends,” Jared said through clamped teeth. Boyd might claim a platonic relationship, but Jared had believed the same about himself and Amberley...right up until they’d kissed.
Boyd released his mother and stepped closer. His expression softened. “Son, may I give you a bit of advice?”
“I’m not your son.” Jared shoved his balled hands in his pockets. Once he filled his siblings in on Boyd’s reappearance, they’d figure out how to get rid of this Loveland once and for all.
“Well, now.” Boyd rocked back on his heels, looking more thoughtful than offended. “True enough. But age has a way of teaching you a thing or two, and here’s one I’ve learned. Best get your own life in order before ordering others around.”
His mother enveloped Jared into a vanilla-scented hug. “Sorry, honey,” she whispered in his ear. “We’ll talk at home.”
He squeezed her back. He wouldn’t blame his lonely mother for wanting attention. Boyd was just the wrong guy to lavish her with it. “Sounds good.”
Layah squeezed his arm once his mother and Boyd disappeared through the exit. “You alright?”
“Fine,” he assured her.
But he wasn’t fine, he mused, as he held the door for his date and walked her to his pickup. Much as he hated admitting it, Boyd had a point. His life wasn’t in order.
And he’d spent a lot of time recently ordering others around, starting with Amberley. He’d selfishly used her to distract him from dealing with his dismal future.
Seeing Amberley struggle in the saddle today made him question how he’d handled his career setback. A zero chance of achieving glory didn’t mean Amberley should give up.
Did that apply to him, too?
He’d thought quitting while ahead meant staying a winner. A hero like he and his father wanted.
Now he wasn’t so sure.
After a chaste peck on the cheek, he dropped Layah home and headed to Cade Ranch. A new moon hung high in the bright sky and his headlights bounced off long stretches of rail fences that ran along the deserted rural route. Out here, in the pitch-dark, it felt as though he floated through space, aimless and drifting, without direction or purpose.
But that wasn’t living, was it?
Not a hero’s life after all.
He’d contact his agent tomorrow and give him the go-ahead to float his name as a free agent. In the meantime, he’d begin working out on the ranch. Maybe he’d prove those sports doctors wrong and get back into top athletic condition again.
It’d be hard work with no guarantee of success, but he demanded that from Amberley. Much as he hated admitting it, Boyd’s point resonated. Jared had to put his own life in order and lead by example, become another kind of hero, if he had any chance of getting through to his friend.
And despite the kiss, that’s all they could—should—ever be, especially when they needed each other now more than ever.
His tires churned up the gravel-lined drive to his front door, and he cut the engine. Petey bounded his way, tail beating harder than a helicopter blade.
He hopped out of the cab, slammed the door, then ruffled the mutt’s soft, floppy ears. “Hey, boy,” he crooned.
A rough tongue licked every inch of his face. He’d never owned a pet as affectionate and devoted as Petey. Despite being smaller than the other cattle dogs, and a stray, he never quit, working hard to prove himself to the humans he adored.
Then a thought struck him.
Petey.
He could train Petey for Amberley. No dog on the ranch took direction better. His siblings often joked Petey could read their minds. He’d be an excellent service dog and the tool Amberley needed to regain her independence.
Better yet, Petey personified the big gesture he needed to convince Amberley to give him, and their friendship, one more chance.
And this time, failure was not an option.
* * *
“AND HOW OLD is he?” asked a caller responding to the online ad Amberley placed last night. Beyond Harley’s stall, a rooster crowed and the blurred morning completed its shift from gray to pink to golden. The clear, crisp air brushed cool fingers against her skin.
Amberley groped for the shelf at the back of Harley’s stall and stowed a pair of clippers, blinking gritty eyes. She’d gotten up at 4:00 a.m. to care for her horse and avoid Jared. Not that she had been able to sidestep her nonstop thoughts of their kiss.
“He’s eleven years old. I bought him from Sunnyside farms. His grand-sire was Scamper.”
Harley stretched his neck and pressed hard against Amberley’s hand, shamelessly begging for a scratch and nearly knocking the phone from her hand.
“Behave,” she whispered. Harley nickered and stamped his hooves. “Fine.” She shifted the phone to the other hand and ran her fingernails lightly behind his ears the way he liked.
Would his new owner know how to give Harley affection? Would they cut the apples in quarters the way he preferred? And that overdramatic yawn of his. Harley opened his mouth really wide and threw his head way up and off to the side. If his halter was adjusted too tight for him to open his mouth all the way, he’d get testy, do a little half rear and give a squeal of anger.
A sigh escaped her. She needed to write a long instruction list for Harley’s new owners, though it didn’t guarantee they’d follow it.
Would he be happy without her?
She sure wouldn’t be without him.
Harley lifted his head, his signal for his favorite thing: a hug. Her chest tightened as she wrapped her arms around his neck and he laid his head on her shoulder. The familiar musk and warmth of him enveloped her. Letting him go would break her in two, but Harley’s needs came first.
After a couple more questions and answers, the caller promised to contact her again after he’d talked it over with his wife and daughter, an aspiring competitive racer.
She pocketed her phone and pictured Harley, his tongue between his teeth, his lips curled back, when he acted silly. The caller had sounded a little stern. What if they didn’t appreciate Harley’s goofy side or got scared when he shifted around for a butt scratch, thinking he might kick them...especially when he raised his back left leg like he often did?
Keep him here, whispered the devil on one shoulder. That way you won’t have to worry.
Think about Harley. The exciting life he deserves, trilled the angel on the other side. Do the right thing, Amberley.
“I will,” she exclaimed. “Stop nagging.”
“Amberley?”
She cringed at Jared’s deep voice. Her heart beat a fast staccato.
“Morning, Jared.”
“Mornin’. Didn’t expect to see you here till later. Hey, Harley-boy. Got this for you.”
Harley advanced to the front of the stall, and she heard him crunch on something that smelled sweet.
Apple.
How kind of Jared. He’d always been sweet like that. Thoughtful.
And the way he’d made her melt in his arms...
Amberley shoved her hands in her pockets. “Oh. Yeah. About that. I don’t think I’m going to class today.”
The wood beams of the doorway groaned a bit where Jared must have leaned on them. At over six feet, he blocked out the strengthening sunlight.
“Just today?” he asked.
“Anymore,” she amended, head lowered. Was he thinking about their kiss? Had he relived it, over and over an
d over, as she had? Her pitiful lack of experience didn’t match up to his Don Juan reputation. Her only serious relationships involved horses.
“Is that because of yesterday?”
Her feet shuffled and a flush started up her neck and crept into her cheeks. “No.” She groaned. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry, Amberley. I should never have kissed you. You’re my best friend, and I crossed the line.”
Strangely, his apology only made her feel worse. Didn’t she want him to regret it as much as she did?
But you don’t regret it, do you? whispered the devil on one shoulder. You liked kissing him.
Accept his apology, twittered the angel on her other shoulder. Then you can both move on and forget it ever happened.
“No, you shouldn’t have.”
His hard-tipped fingers reached across the stall half door and laced in hers. “I’m also sorry I let you think I kissed you only because I wanted to comfort you.”
Her pulse stuttered. “What other reason was there?”
“Because I wanted to.” His voice deepened and grew rough. After a beat of awkward silence, he cleared his throat. “You’re beautiful, Amberley.”
She jerked her hands away and dropped her gaze. “I’m not one of your girls.”
A short, humorless laugh escaped him. “No. You’re my best friend and I won’t jeopardize that again. In fact, I have a surprise for you if you’ll come meet him.”
“Meet him?” She lifted the latch and stepped gingerly outside. Immediately a warm, wet nose butted into her hand. An insistent tongue rasped against her palm.
A dog.
She went to her knees and a shaggy, medium-sized dog pounced on her lap, dropping heavy paws on her thighs. “Oh, aren’t you a cutie.”
“His name’s Petey.”
“Hi, Petey.” She ruffled his long ears, feeling the large notch in one that suggested Petey hadn’t had a very easy life.
“And he’s yours.”
She blinked up at Jared, trying to read his face but catching only flashes of teeth in what might be an uncertain smile.
“I can’t take care of a dog.” Petey sniffed behind her ear, then began vigorously licking her jaw.
“Not yet, but you will after I train him.”
“Train him?”
“He’s going to be your guide dog.”
“Jared, I don’t...”
“Petey, fetch me a soda.”
With a bound, the dog flung himself from her lap and disappeared. “Did you just send him to the store?” she joked.
“Not quite.”
Scattering pebbles heralded Petey’s return a moment later.
“Give.” She heard Jared say, then, “Good boy.” Petey woofed.
A second later, something cool and metallic pressed into her palm. She ran her fingers over the tab, marveling. “How did you... How did he?”
“He got it from the cooler—a trick he learned in one night.”
“You taught him?”
“Yep. He’s a stray who showed up on the ranch a couple months ago. Only took him a week to catch on to cattle herding and become one of our best. He’s the smartest dog I’ve ever known and yours if you’ll have him.”
She buried her nose in Petey’s soft fur. “You don’t have to spend all that time. The doctor said he could find someone—”
“Please let me do this for you.”
She released a breath. “Okay. Thank you. And I accept your apology.”
Jared cared for her more than anyone besides her mother. He’d seen her at her weakest, her worst, and yet here he stood, still by her side, not giving up on her, as pushy as ever, and she loved that about him.
She really did.
“An apology isn’t the only reason I stopped by.”
Petey stuck close as she pushed to her feet, stick in hand and tossed it. With a joyous bark, he raced after it. “What do you want?”
“Your help. Your tumble yesterday taught the kids something valuable.”
“It did?”
“Yeah. That even champions get thrown and make mistakes. What counts is the getting back up.”
She chewed that thought over, then nodded. “True.” When Petey dropped the stick on her boots, she grabbed it and winged it away again.
“I was wondering if you might come back to class as an assistant,” Jared continued. “It’s clear you don’t need help with horses.”
As if to emphasize the point, Harley leaned through the stall door and pressed his clenched teeth into her shoulder with his lips slightly parted, another quirk of his when he wanted attention.
“Was this your idea or Maverick’s? Yesterday you wouldn’t let go of Harley’s bridle.”
Jared’s head seemed to tip back. “I’m sorry about that, too,” he said to the sky. His face lowered and she felt, rather than saw, his eyes on her. “I was just being—”
“A jerk?”
He chuckled. “I was going to say protective, but I suppose both are true. Anyways, the idea’s mine and Maverick agrees.”
“You talked to him?” she asked, surprised. “Alone?”
Petey’s panting breath sounded as he returned at a gallop.
“Down,” Jared instructed, and she glimpsed the dog’s furry outline drop instantly to the grass. “You know I’d do anything for you, darlin’. Even if that means conversing with a Loveland.”
A short laugh escaped her, then she sobered. “But how can I really help without my...my...vision? Won’t I be a burden?”
“You?” scoffed Jared. “Not a chance.”
Pride spread like warm honey in her veins at his admiring tone. “Just seeing you out there is motivating to the kids, but more than that, you can teach them how to handle the horses, groom them, clean their stalls...”
She turned and eased back into Harley’s stall. “I’m still aces at that, at least.”
Jared joined in her ironic laugh, and suddenly it felt like old times, the rhythms of their friendship returning.
“You’ll do a lot of good. Maverick and I also need help planning and running new activities like taking the horses through obstacle courses with barrels and such. I’d appreciate your expertise.”
She cocked her head, considering. As an assistant, she’d regain some of the pride she’d lost yesterday, but how to handle being around Jared, and her unwelcome new feelings for him?
“We’ll take it day by day,” Jared said, sensing her silent reservations. “And anytime you want to quit, you just say so.”
“I don’t like quitting.” The words flew from her lips, from the gut-level spot where her grit used to be. It felt good to find it again.
“I was counting on that.” She could hear the smile in Jared’s voice. “Class starts in thirty minutes.”
“See you then, friend.”
His hand cupped the side of her cheek, and the fluttering in her stomach made the gesture feel anything but “friendly.”
“Later. Come on, Petey.” He whistled.
After Jared left, she rested her head on Harley’s back and closed her eyes. What had she just committed herself to? She’d be working with Jared in the program and with a service-dog-in-training.
Since the kiss, an even more bittersweet memory haunted her: the feel of Jared’s arms wrapped around her, the strength, the firmness of them, the way they’d made her feel safe and strong again and something more...something that’d made her heart pound harder than ever before around him.
Was she developing romantic feelings for him? If so, the timing couldn’t be worse. Even on her best day, she didn’t remotely resemble feminine types he usually dated. Crazy her to keep thinking of him that way.
A shiver tore through her. Get a grip, girl. Even if Jared could get serious, he’d have more power in a relationship with her becaus
e of her blindness.
Better to keep her distance and work on regaining her confidence all on her own.
And forget that kiss ever happened.
Chapter Seven
“WHAT’S MMA?” AMBERLEY eyed the blurred, boxy shape of a white vehicle as it bounced up the rutted drive, then stopped in the parking area outside the corral. Someone—she couldn’t make out gender—hustled to the back of the vehicle. The grating, mechanical whine of a wheelchair lift sounded.
“Methylmalonic acidemia—a genetic disorder. Metabolism problems,” Benny supplied. Like Amberley and Jared, he huddled out of the afternoon’s intense sun in the stable’s shadow. “Emily had a stroke a couple years back because of it.”
“She’s so young,” Amberley murmured, straining to focus on the small shape an adult bundled into the wheelchair. The trauma of learning about her genetic disorder at twenty-six paled in comparison with the challenges that Emily must face daily.
Amberley set her jaw. She’d ensure that Emily, while on Spirit Ranch, would forget her troubles and just be a kid for a while, like any other.
“Ten years old, I’m thinking.” Two rasps of Benny’s inhaler reached Amberley’s ears. He lowered his voice. “Jan, her mother, says Emily started dialysis this week, which is why she can’t make the regular group. Really appreciate you two staying longer to give her a solo lesson.”
“Of course,” she and Jared said at the same time.
A warm hand settled on Amberley’s shoulder, and she glanced up at the fuzzy brown of Jared’s large eyes. She sensed his thoughts. They still made a great team, even when the goal wasn’t about winning.
“Howdy!” hollered a female voice that belonged to whoever pushed the occupied wheelchair to the corral’s gate.
Amberley hustled to the opener and hit the automatic button without hesitation. Working in the ring this week boosted her confidence. She’d even begun doing more at home and had cooked dinner last night.
Despite the overdone eggs and burnt toast, her mother declared it the best meal she’d had, then burst into tears. Seeing her no-nonsense parent break down hit Amberley hard. Reclaiming her independence meant giving her mother peace of mind and her life back. She’d vowed then and there to work as hard as she could so no one would sacrifice on her behalf again.
