by Julie Benson
“Wait a minute. Stop right there,” Emma said when Mick turned to leave. “You said we needed all three of us to handle this.”
“That’s right. I did.” The older man pushed bits of hay around with the toe of his scuffed boot. Then a second later he snapped his fingers. “We’re gonna need a halter. I’ll go get one.”
“We’ll be fine without it.”
“Things will be easier if we use one,” Mick said as he dashed off.
She turned to Jamie. “Is it just me, or is he acting a little odd?”
“You think?” Jamie shook his head. “I’m sorry Mick bothered you. I told him we could handle this, but he was worried about something happening to the dog.” Jamie shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. The movement pulled his dark T-shirt taunt across his broad shoulders.
For a city boy he sure looked comfortable in the barn. Comfortable? No, that wasn’t right. He looked as if he belonged on a cowboy-of-the-month calendar. All he needed was a cowboy hat dangling from his long fingers and a good pair of boots. She hadn’t expected that. How could a man be at ease on a symphony stage and equally so in a barn?
She tried to focus her thoughts. This would be a lot easier if she cleared the air. “About last night. I need to apologize. My mouth was driving while my brain was asleep at the wheel. Could we just forget the whole thing?”
Relief eased the tension in his face. “That’s fine with me. I said some things I’m not real proud of.”
Puppy whimpers followed by Trixie’s nervous movements drifted out of the stall. “Where’s Mick with the halter?” Jamie glanced down the hallway.
The sooner they retrieved the puppy, the sooner she could hightail it out of here. “We can manage without him. Do you want to deal with the horse or get the dog?”
“I’ll handle Trixie. She and I are friends, aren’t we, girl?”
Emma swallowed hard. I bet you are. What female wouldn’t respond to a good-looking man when he gazed at her with those dreamy brown eyes and whispered her name in that bedroom voice?
“When you get in the stall, talk to the horse in a calm, soothing voice until you can get close enough to stroke her neck and face. That should keep her relaxed enough for me to get the puppy.”
As Jamie turned and walked toward the stall, Emma had to remind herself to breathe. What his butt did for those jeans ought to be registered as an illegal weapon. Breathe in and out. Maybe concentrating on that would get her surging hormones under control.
When he tried to step in the stall, the horse swung her rear around, blocking him, and tossed her head. “Now, don’t go getting your nose all out of joint, pretty girl. We’re going to take this slow.”
His smooth, soft voice floated through the still night and wrapped around Emma. Oh, my. She’d told him to use a calm, soothing voice. Wasn’t working. At least not for her. If she got any more hot and bothered she’d end up a puddle on the barn floor.
“You’re worried about that baby, aren’t you?” Jamie said as he inched closer. The horse stomped her hind foot.
“Watch out. That means she’s—”
“I know. She’s giving me a warning, aren’t you, Trixie girl? You’re telling me you mean business. You want me to leave. I hear you, but we need to see that pup you’re so intent on protecting.” He moved closer. The horse struck out with her hind leg in a quick stroke.
“Be careful. The next step is for her to make that kick count.”
“She won’t do that.” He slid his hand over the animal’s neck. “I won’t hurt your little one. I promise.”
Emma resisted the urge to sigh. If he promised her the moon in that quiet, make-her-melt voice, Emma would check her mailbox expecting to find it in a box with a bright red bow. She swallowed hard. So much for thinking she could treat him like anyone else they helped at the shelter. Her plan had been solid. Unfortunately, her execution stunk. “For a city boy, you’re doing a fair job dealing with that horse.”
He glanced over his shoulder at her, his eyebrows knit together, a scowl on his handsome face. “What’s with all the city-boy comments?”
Simple self-defense.
It reminds me that you won’t be around long, and how that’s one more reason I shouldn’t get any crazy ideas about you and me.
“That bothers you, huh?”
“As if you didn’t know.” He laughed and continued stroking the horse. The man had killer eyes when they shimmered from his laughter. Eyes that could get a woman to sell her soul for a wooden nickel. “I’ve been here a lot over the years, and Mick’s taught me a thing or two about horses.”
“Apparently you were a good student.”
“I’m good at a lot of things.”
The earth tilted under her as his steamy gaze locked on her, and she knew. He’d take his time with a woman.
Not what she needed to think about right now, but she couldn’t stop the images of them together in all kinds of interesting ways and positions from running through her mind. They’d had some great chemistry when they’d dated as teenagers, and she couldn’t help but wonder how he’d matured, what he’d learned and how much fun she could have finding out.
Don’t say anything. Take the smart route. Ignore the innuendo.
“No quick comeback to put me in my place?”
No way would she touch that statement with a hazmat suit and a ten-foot pole because even that wouldn’t be enough protection.
His gaze moved away from hers and focused on the horse. His large hands moved over the animal, soothing and calming. She glanced at the wall over his shoulder, but couldn’t shut out his voice. “How about you let us see that baby? You’ve kind of adopted him, haven’t you? I bet you’d make a fine mama. You’ve got a lot of love to give. I see that in your eyes.”
Jamie’s words rippled through Emma. What did he see when he looked into her eyes? No, she didn’t want to know.
Boots shuffling against concrete sounded Mick’s return and snapped her out of her haze.
Still a little unsettled and trying to regroup, Emma turned to the older man. “What took you so long?”
“What did you have to do, make the halter?” Jamie added.
“I had trouble finding the right one.” Mick moved past her and handed Jamie the halter.
As Jamie slipped the leather over the horse’s head, Mick turned to Emma, his voice low. “How a man treats animals and the way they react to him says a lot about his character.”
She nodded. Animals possessed more common sense than most people and didn’t let things like money, status and looks cloud their judgment. “They see through the pretense to the real person.”
“Nope, you can’t fool a horse. Be leery of a man that dogs or horses don’t like. They can spot a bad one a mile away.” Mick nodded toward his grandson. “He’s a good man with a strong heart. A cowboy’s heart.”
Emma chuckled. The phrase sounded as though it should be an article in Cowboy Monthly. Does your man have the heart of a cowboy? Take our survey and find out. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“He loves his family, God and his country. He’s honest and tough but has a heart of gold.”
She laughed. “You sound like an ad for an old John Wayne movie.”
“What are you two talking about?” Jamie asked, his brows scrunched together in confusion. “Remember the puppy? The reason we’re out here?”
Mick yawned. “It’s past my bedtime, and I’ve got to be at the restaurant early. If I don’t get to sleep I won’t be worth a thing. You two have this under control.” The older man turned to leave.
“We might need some help,” Emma said, afraid of losing her last line of defense.
“Once the two of you get in the stall, unless I hang from the ceiling there won’t be room for me.” Mick took another step. �
�Jamie, when I see you at the restaurant tomorrow, let me know how things went.”
Then, before she or Jamie could say or do anything, Mick darted for the door. A minute later the barn door creaked open and clanked shut.
“I’ve never seen him move that fast. It was like someone lit a fire under him,” Jamie said, a look of complete confusion plastered on his face.
Wait a minute. Since Mick closed the bar, her grandfather opened in the mornings. Then Mick arrived just before the lunch rush hit. “Something stinks around here and it isn’t because the hay needs changing. Mick never opens the restaurant. Why would he say that?”
“I don’t know. You want me to go after him?”
“Forget it. You’re doing a great job with Trixie. We don’t need Mick.” The sooner she left, the better, and not just for the pup. She stepped into the stall and stood inside the door as the horse eyed her. “Don’t worry, girl. I’m here to help.”
Jamie stroked the horse’s neck while Emma stepped closer. Impatient to get her hands on the pup, she tried to scoot by the animal. When she did, Trixie swung her rear toward her, knocking Emma off balance. Unable to get her footing and fearing she’d tumble onto the puppy, she grabbed the nearest object to right herself—Jamie. Her hands fisted in his shirt. His arm slid around her waist—warm and strong, offering her support. “Take it easy. There’s nothing to worry about.”
Was he talking to her or the horse? Not that she cared. Who would when he used that bedroom voice? She tried to focus, but all she could think about was his hand burning her skin through her cotton blouse. That and the fact that he’d been there to catch her.
She’d forgotten how great it felt to have a man’s arm around her, but her body remembered. Tingles raced down her spine, bringing heat to places that had been near dead for too long.
Hormone drought. That’s what she’d been in, and now that the flow had started again, her body ached. But that’s all this was. Her body kicking back into gear. Any man holding her would have brought about the same reaction, the same heat.
Liar.
She’d had relationships since Tucker, probably more than she should have, but hadn’t connected with anyone but Clint—but even his touch hadn’t lit her up like Jamie’s had right now.
This was bad, but being bad could be so good.
“You okay?”
She was fine, all right. Her body was all warm and tingly with happy hormones. A woman could get addicted to feeling like this. All she could do was nod. Her heart beating out a rapid staccato beat, she stepped away.
Trixie shifted nervously and tried to pull away from Jamie. He leaned closer and his soft voice floated over Emma as he started singing. The simple tune, the Beatles’ “Blackbird,” touched her in a way a song hadn’t in years. The man could tame a grizzly when he sang like that. His compassion, his caring wrapped around her. Her heart squeezed.
He’s someone special.
No, he’s not, and even if he is, I don’t care. She had plans. Things she needed to prove to herself and everyone else who’d ever doubted her. A man would only cause problems.
* * *
JAMIE SANG TO Trixie TO get himself under control as much as to calm the horse. When Emma had pulled away he’d wanted to drag her back against him. Even after the things they’d said to each other at Halligan’s, she still sent his pulse racing. Something that shouldn’t happen with such a simple touch.
He was crazy to even think about her after she’d given him clear signals that she wasn’t interested. Only a fool kept banging his head against a stone wall, and he was no fool.
Too bad his body had tossed out the memo.
While Trixie settled down quickly, he couldn’t say the same thing about himself, especially when Emma scooted past him. Her sweet flowery scent swept over him, keeping his body humming at a fever pitch. No woman should smell that good in a barn. The horse shifted beside him, trying to turn toward Emma to keep an eye on her. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Take it easy. You can trust her.”
But can I?
When Emma reached the corner, she scooped up the bundle and walked back to him.
“See? I’m not going to hurt him.” She held out the pup to the larger animal. “He’s fine. Will you take him so I can call Avery?” He took the puppy as Emma placed her call.
Jamie peered at the tiny white puff ball with brown fur around his eyes and on his ears. The tiny thing was all ears and legs.
“We’ve got the puppy I left the message about. He can’t be more than a month old.” She moved the dog’s lips back to expose his teeth and gums. Then she pinched a section of skin and let it go. “His gums are pretty pale and his skin’s taking a while to go back into place. He’s probably anemic and dehydrated. He may need fluids.”
She paused to listen and turned to him after she ended the call. “Avery will meet me at the shelter.”
“Is he going to be okay?”
“I’ll be honest. Things can go downhill quickly with puppies this young, but Avery’s a great vet. We’ll do our best.”
“Then we’d better get going.” He walked out of the horse stall, the puppy cradled in his large hand.
She dashed after him. “I’ll take it from here.”
Jamie stopped to wait for her and glanced at his watch. “It’s after eleven. What kind of man would I be if I let you go out alone at this late hour? I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you. Plus, I’m kind of attached to this guy.” He paused and turned the puppy upside down. “Yup. It’s a he.”
When she opened her mouth to argue, he said, “We can either stand here arguing, and you won’t win, by the way, or we can get this puppy the help he needs.”
“You’re going to be stubborn about this, aren’t you?” He stared at her. She sighed. “Let’s go.”
* * *
WHEN EMMA AND JAMIE reached the Estes Park animal shelter parking lot, the glimmer from the lone street light and the crescent moon sprinkled the area.
She unlocked the shelter’s front door, entered and turned on the lights. “Follow me. We’ll clean him up while we’re waiting for Avery. We need to get the fleas off him. They can be deadly for a dog this young.”
“This guy’s had a tough start.” Jamie scratched the pup behind the ear as she led him through the shelter to a back room. “It’ll get better from here, buddy.”
Emma told him to hold the dog over the tub. Once he did, she grabbed the spray nozzle, turned on the tap and waited for the water to warm up.
“How does someone with a music degree and a band end up working as the volunteer coordinator for a local animal shelter?”
Such a simple question. Small talk, really. The kind strangers at a party tossed out to each other without even thinking. How could something so supposedly inconsequential pack such a wallop?
“It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got plenty of time.”
Everyone in town knew her story, but no one ever asked her to talk about what she’d gone through. They just knew, but they didn’t understand. She considered fobbing him off with some vague “life happens” flip comment, but something stopped her. His eyes. They could get a woman to reveal her deepest secrets.
He’s got a cowboy’s heart.
Jamie would understand, and right now she wanted that. Needed it.
“After I graduated from college I moved to Nashville again.” She’d packed up her hopes and dreams, tossed them in a 2003 Camry with one hundred and twenty thousand miles on it and swore the second time things would be different. “I was in a band and things were going well. Really well. We’d caught the eye of a promoter and he was on the verge of taking us on. Then my mom was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.”
“Cancer’s always bad, but that one’s brutal.”
She nodded. The
odds had been against her mom. Only a little over 20 percent of people diagnosed with the disease were alive after one year, but Emma had hoped her mom would be one of the lucky ones. “Between chemo and the cancer she felt pretty lousy most of the time. She was weak and in so much pain. I came home to help with her care.”
Emma held her hand under the spray of water to test the temperature, gently wet the pup’s white fluffy fur and squirted soap over him, as memories welled up inside her.
As her mother’s health had continued to deteriorate, Emma couldn’t leave. She was needed, but more important, she wanted to spend as much time as she could with her mother. While she didn’t regret her decision, dealing with the endless appointments and medical issues had drained her emotionally. She’d needed something else to occupy her mind. Something to feed her soul. She’d needed somewhere to regroup. Or to fall apart.
“Once I realized I was going to stay longer than I planned, I told the band I wouldn’t be coming back. Turned out they’d already replaced me. They just forgot to tell me.”
“Real nice of them. They could’ve at least had the balls to tell you.”
“That’s what I said. Anyway, that’s when I decided I needed a place of my own. Staying at my parents’ house was—” She paused and chewed on her lower lip.
“Too much to take, almost overwhelming.”
She nodded, stunned at how he’d understood what she couldn’t put into words. “To get an apartment I needed to support myself. I thought about teaching music in a school, but those jobs are hard to come by in a small community. People get one and keep it until they retire.”
After she massaged the soap through the puppy’s fur to dislodge as many fleas as possible, she rinsed the dog. Small dark specks floated among the soap bubbles. “Those black things are fleas.”
Jamie stared into the sink. “Poor fella. It’s a wonder he’s got any blood left with those things gnawing at him.”
She reached into the cabinet above the sink and pulled out a fine-tooth comb. “This should get any critters that held on and survived the bath.”
