“So do you want him?”
The question came from Gordon, but Wes just shrugged. He wanted him, all right, but the first rule of negotiation was to appear indifferent about the item you wanted to purchase.
“I’ll give you a really good deal.”
Now they were talking. Wes had to bite back a smile. “How good?”
They were walking between the parked cars and trucks, Dudley following meekly behind. The horse didn’t appear bothered by the vehicles searching for a parking space or the people walking to and from cars or the loose dogs that always seemed to accompany equestrian events. In the distance he could hear the sound of the announcer calling exhibitor numbers to people outside the arena waiting for their chance to work.
“I have to have at least five.”
Thousand? The man was off his rocker.
“Not going to pay that much.”
Wes glanced up at the sky, pretending an interest in the weather.
“Okay, so why don’t you make me an offer.”
He didn’t answer right away. Let the man sweat it. After the way he’d treated Dudley, he deserved it.
He walked all the way back to the barn area, then paused near the arena to say, “Where’s your stall?”
Wes knew perfectly well where it was, but he didn’t let Gordon in on the secret. He glanced at Jillian. She seemed amused. He knew in that moment that she understood the game he played.
“It’s over there. On the other side of the row of stalls there.”
The man pointed with his chin to an area with walnut trees. Wes headed in that direction.
“Look, I’m not going to accept less than three for him. He’s got the bloodlines to be successful at a lot of things.”
Wes stopped. Cowboy dropped to his haunches at his feet. “A winning sire doesn’t mean a hill of beans, especially since he’s a gelding, and especially since I won’t be using him for what he’s bred to do—reining.”
Gordon had begun to look more and more disconcerted. Wes waited until he was almost back to the man’s stall before saying, “I’ll give you twenty-two for him.”
“Done.”
The way the man leaped at the offer, Wes wondered how many times good old Gordon had been dumped on his rear. And maybe he’d made a mistake, but at least he wouldn’t be into the gelding for much.
“You won’t regret this.”
Oddly, Wes thought he might be right. “Why don’t you untack him? I’ll head back to my truck and get the money.”
“Sure. No problem.”
The man reached for the reins. Dudley backed away so fast it was all Wes could do to hold on to the reins. “Whoa there, boy,” he told the horse. Wes was certain the poor animal had been abused. “It’s okay.”
You won’t ever be struck again, he silently told the horse. He gently touched the animal and was rewarded by a dropped head and a softening of the animal’s eyes. When Gordon came up behind him, he slowly handed off the reins.
I’ll be right back, he assured the horse.
Jillian and Cowboy both fell into step alongside him. She didn’t say anything but once again he found himself reading her expression with ease. The woman was the classified section of a newspaper.
“Well?” she finally said when they were out of earshot. “What did you think?”
“I think he’s got great potential.”
She came off the ground, pumped the air with a fist, let out a woot. Cowboy took a few startled steps back. “I knew it!”
“Stupid son of a cuss doesn’t know what he has.”
“That’s because he’s a stupid son of a cuss. I know for a fact that the cinch was pinching him today. That’s why he bucked.”
“And how do you know that?”
She opened her mouth, then closed it again. He had a feeling she’d been about to say something but had fished it back just in time. “I could just tell.”
“Really.”
She nodded, black bob flicking forward. “Let’s face it. Gordon there isn’t exactly model thin.” She made a sound, something between a snort and a guffaw that reminded him of a seal barking. It nearly stopped him in his tracks. “Can you imagine having him on your back?”
“That’s not a visual I want to imagine.”
She made that sound again, and Wes found himself admitting he found it strangely adorable.
“But I guess it doesn’t matter.” He met her gaze. “Something drew you to that horse, and I’m glad it did. Bad or good today, I would have bought him even if he’d bucked me off. There was no way I was going to let that idiot touch him ever again.”
She didn’t say anything. Wes suddenly felt like a bug under a microscope. Her green eyes studied his own, and not just his eyes. Her gaze darted over his face, his lips, his nose, his eyes—all of it was scanned, as if she sought an answer she didn’t expect to find.
“You really love horses, don’t you?”
“I do.” He glanced toward the arena, where horses were still being worked. “And I have a lot riding on this one.”
There she went studying him like a raven again. It made him realize he probably should have kept that to himself. She didn’t need to know about the codicil to his father’s will, the one that had been in his father’s father’s will...and his great-grandfather’s will. The codicil that had ensured the Landons’ wealth for over a century. The bulk of his family’s fortune could not be inherited unless he proved himself first. He needed to make his own fortune, and he had until he was twenty-eight to do so.
“You don’t act like someone raised with a silver spoon, either.”
The observation was so astute and so close to the mark that Wes turned back toward the barn.
“I better get back to Gordon before he thinks I changed my mind.” He looked down at his dog. “Come on, Cowboy.”
“Wait.”
He swung back to face her.
“Are you going to stick around for the auction tomorrow night?”
“No.” He shook his head. “Not now that I’ve found a horse.”
To his surprise, she seemed disappointed. “Then I guess this is goodbye.”
He stuffed his hands in his pockets. He had to. He had the strangest urge to hug her. “For now.”
“Wes, you don’t really have to help CEASE. It was a joke. I was trying to get your goat.”
“No.” He smiled. “I want to help.”
He wanted to see her again. The realization had him rocking back on his toes.
So what if she’s a little different? He could deal with that. Look at how he’d dealt with Maxine. Then again, maybe Maxine wasn’t a good comparison. There was crazy...and then there was muy loco.
Too late to take the offer back, though. Hope had bloomed in her eyes like a summer sunflower, and so had relief, and the craziest thing of all, what made him look away in dismay, was how she made him want to promise other things. Like moonlit rides and romantic dinners on a beach.
“Then I guess this isn’t goodbye.”
When their gazes connected, Wes saw her smile. The gentleness of her soul made her green eyes glow brighter. He’d noticed her looks yesterday, but the purity of her goodness outshone the beauty of her smile.
“I’ll call you when I get back to town.”
He walked away before he could have any other bizarre thoughts. Like how good she smelled—vanilla and berries—and how the combination of the sweetness in her eyes and her sugary smell made him want to do something completely irrational, like kiss her.
* * *
HOW LONG SHE stood there, watching as Wes headed toward his trailer, Jillian didn’t know.
Goodbye, Cowboy.
The dog paused by his master’s side, turned back for a second, brown eyes blinking. She’d learned a long time ago that canines said goodbye that way—with a long blink. Cats did the same thing but for a different reason. It was a sign of love and affection, but you had to stare at them for a moment or two to spot it.
Of cou
rse, Wes would never believe her, and therein lay the crux of the problem, because she’d started to like Wes a little too much. The man had a hard time believing she had a good eye for picking out horses. What would he say if she told him she could talk to animals? He might humor her at first, but deep down inside, he’d call her crazy.
Stupid. Haven’t you learned your lesson already? Relationships are always doomed to fail, especially with men who don’t believe in your abilities.
With a sigh of regret she turned away. Natalie was right: maybe she should learn to keep her emotions out of the mix and simply use men for sex. She knew plenty of women who operated that way. She just didn’t think she could ever be one of them.
“You ready to get some dinner?” she asked her friend once she found her in the grandstands.
Natalie was all smiles. “You missed that dark gray colt we were interested in. He was fantastic. Think I want him, too. But yeah, sure, let’s go eat, although if it’s just the same to you, I’d rather not have any more greasy fries and hamburgers.” Natalie patted her flat belly.
Jillian glanced toward the arena, where another three horses worked. “We can drive somewhere.”
“Cool.” Natalie bounded up from her seat. “But I get to choose where we go.” Her friend’s gaze slid past Jillian. “Where’s Wes?”
Jillian shrugged. “He just bought a horse.”
Natalie’s blue eyes opened wide, her long blond lashes nearly touching her eyebrows. “Really?”
As they made their way toward Natalie’s truck, Jillian filled her in on the details. Her friend couldn’t believe they’d found Dudley being beaten behind the barn, but once Jillian explained the spur marks, she nodded in agreement that Wes had been a hero for buying the gelding.
“He seems nice.” They reached her red truck—aka Lola—the unlock button giving a chirp as her friend pressed it. “Good thing you came along when you did.”
Natalie made a nice living jumping horses, and nothing demonstrated that better than the brand-new truck she drove. She made an even nicer living training people to jump their own horses.
“Did any of the other horses we liked perform well?” Jillian asked as she slid into the passenger seat.
“Yeah, actually. But I think I like that dark bay horse best of all.” She turned the key.
The truck coughed. They both looked toward the hood in chagrin.
“That didn’t sound good.” Natalie tried it again. This time it didn’t so much cough as sputter, the truck emitting a dying gasp.
“Oh, crap.”
“It’s brand-new.” Jillian glanced around at the other trucks parked nearby, although why she did that she had no idea. It wasn’t as if a repairman would be standing there with a wrench in hand waiting to rescue two damsels in distress. “Is it out of diesel?”
“We filled it up the day we arrived, remember?” Natalie tried it one more time. The whole truck shuddered.
“I think it’s broken.”
“You think?” Natalie hit the steering wheel with her hands. “Now what? I don’t know diddly doo-doo about trucks.”
“Better call AAA.”
But it would be at least an hour before someone could come out and tow the truck. Meanwhile, they opened the hood—as if they’d have a snowball’s chance in hell of diagnosing what was wrong.
“Maybe it’s a loose wire or something?” Jillian said.
They both peered into the engine compartment.
“Need some help?”
Wes.
Crazy that she recognized his voice instantly. Crazier still that her heart leaped when she heard it. Despite telling herself a million times to maintain her distance, she couldn’t keep a welcoming smile off her face.
And that was the craziest thing of all.
Chapter Seven
DOA.
Jillian could tell by the look on Wes’s face when he emerged from beneath her friend’s truck. He reached for his black cowboy hat and shoved it back on.
“Oh, crap,” Natalie said, apparently reading Wes’s expression, too.
“You’re not going to believe this.” He wiped his hands on a rag Jillian had found in her trailer. “Someone stole your catalytic converter.”
“My what?”
Jillian knew what it was. “No way.”
Wes tossed the rag onto the hood of the truck. “It happens. They steal them for the precious metals, like platinum and rhodium. Looks like you got hit while you were inside. Have you driven it at all since you got here?”
“No. I have my trailer.” Natalie pointed to the long white horse trailer with living quarters in the front, which was parked behind her truck.
“Then it could have been last night, too, while you were sleeping.”
“Son of a—” Natalie bit off the end of her curse, but Jillian could tell she wanted to let it fly.
“Do you have insurance?” Wes asked.
“Of course,” Natalie answered.
“Good, ’cause these things cost a bundle. And depending on the local dealership, you might be here awhile. They don’t exactly keep catalytic converters in stock.”
“You sound like you’ve heard of this happening before,” Jillian said.
“I have. I was at a competition last year where a bunch of trucks got hit. It happens at horse shows, too. Crooks aren’t as stupid as people think.”
Natalie turned to her. “How will we get home?”
“We won’t.” Jillian gave her a reassuring smile. “Not until it’s fixed.”
“But the Taylors want you to go look at that horse on Sunday. That’s a big deal, with the potential for more clients if you play your cards right.”
“That’s three days from now. Besides, I can reschedule if push comes to shove.”
“They might not like that. You know how wealthy people are sometimes.”
“She can go home with me.”
The words had the effect of a stick of dynamite. Both Natalie and Jillian stared at Wes. Natalie was the first to look away, but only to shoot Jillian a wink of amusement, one that clearly projected, He wants to take you home with him.
She ignored her and met Wes’s gaze again. “You don’t have to do that.”
“It’s a great idea.” Natalie took a step forward. “My barn is closed on Monday and with any luck they’ll have the part in by then. I can drive home with my new horse, if I end up buying one tomorrow night, I mean.”
“The only problem is, I’m leaving tonight.”
Tonight.
“Actually, just as soon as I load up Dudley. It’s at least a seven-hour drive back home and I’d like to try and make it back by midnight.”
“You’d be home tomorrow.” Natalie nodded, as if she had the power to make the decision for her. “You wouldn’t have to reschedule the Taylors.”
“I’m sure they would understand—”
“You know how hard it is to rearrange things when more than one person is involved, not to mention the impression you might give them.”
“But I’ll miss the sale.”
“I call you with the details.”
“No, I—”
Don’t want to be alone with Wes.
She didn’t want to risk spending more time with him. Didn’t want to find out that he had yet another wonderful quality, one that would make it even harder to keep her distance.
Damn it.
“I don’t need a ride, but thanks.” She forced herself to smile.
“Not a problem.” Wes fished his cell phone out of his pocket. “Let’s call the dealership.”
But it was worse than he’d predicted. Two days, minimum, to get the part. And they weren’t the only ones hit that night, either. Seemed a bunch of people had lost their catalytic converters. Monday might have been an optimistic guess with so many parts on order. The dealership told them it could be four or five days.
“You’re going home with Wes,” Natalie pronounced.
Jillian knew her friend was right. She di
dn’t have an assistant trainer as Natalie did, someone who could pick up the slack in her absence. She had a busy day scheduled for Tuesday. Another new customer and a few of her regular ones, too. She would lose out on hundreds of dollars if she didn’t get back soon.
“Well?” Wes asked.
Jillian glanced at Wes, her spirits sinking. “Okay, I’ll go.”
* * *
THEY LEFT AS soon as he loaded up Dudley, and Wes was glad to note the colt climbed in the trailer easily. It was dark outside by the time they were ready to head out, Wes having waited around for the tow truck to arrive. Fortunately, Natalie had living quarters in her horse trailer. She’d be stuck at the show grounds for the next few days, but she didn’t seem to mind. Lots of cute cowboys, she’d said. Plenty to keep her occupied.
The latch on the door of the new three-horse trailer soundlessly closed. He’d scrimped and saved for years before he’d been able to afford it, but as he’d told his mom, it’d been an investment in his future. He hoped the horse inside turned out to be a good investment, too.
“Come on, Cowboy. Let’s go home.”
Jillian had already taken a seat inside the truck. She turned to look at him when he opened the driver’s-side door, Cowboy jumping into the crew cab first. The dog settled in the back, but he obviously hadn’t noticed Jillian inside the truck at first, because suddenly he paused, and his black tail began to wag when he noticed their guest.
“Hey there, Cowboy,” Jillian said softly.
Wes slid in next. He could barely see Jillian or his dog until he started the vehicle and the lights from the dash cast a martianlike glow over the cab. The tense lines on her brow had him alert.
“You okay?”
“Fine.”
That didn’t sound promising. “You could always go camp out in the living quarters.”
“While we’re driving?”
“Why not?”
“Isn’t that illegal?”
“I promise not to tell anyone.”
She leaned back. “That’s okay. I’ll take my chances in here.”
He started the truck, mulling over that phrase in his head. Take my chances. What did that mean?
“You can sleep if you want. I promise not to disturb you.”
Kissed by a Cowboy Page 5
