by Karen Anders
She looked down at the canvas and a slow-moving pain traveled into every part of her heart. Corey. It had to have been Corey. Why? Why would he take the time to paint something and then destroy it?
She let go of the cloth and went around to the barn. Just then, her neighbor, Stanley Martin, drove up and belatedly she remembered she had made an appointment to show him the new litter of pigs. He wanted one for his daughter Lilly.
“Damn,” she muttered under her breath as she looked at the barn. She was sure Corey was picking out a mount. She wanted to talk to him about the ruined canvas. She wanted to know what was going on in that gorgeous head of his.
She sighed and walked away from the barn, forcing a smile at Stan when he got out of his truck.
“I’ll take this one, Tex.”
Corey had been moving down the stalls looking at all the animals. Tex had been talking a blue streak about all their attributes, but Corey knew which horse he wanted. He’d been watching the big stallion since he’d first stepped into the barn.
He couldn’t concentrate on Tex’s words. All he could think about was how Jennifer had looked yesterday afternoon. How she had stood up to him and challenged him. The woman was on a mission. He could see that. He wasn’t blind. She thought she could save him. And she didn’t want to take no for an answer. Well, to keep his sanity, he could not touch her again.
He had to walk away. It was frightening knowing that even as he said it to himself, he still wanted her. Wanted her beneath him, moving with him. He wanted to wake to touch her fiery hair in the morning, more beautiful than the blazing glory of the rising sun. He wanted to see those sleepy green eyes open and feel those lips soften beneath his.
“Oh no, you idiot, he’s a monster. You don’t want him.”
Tex broke into Corey’s wicked thoughts and he snapped back to attention. He stepped closer and spoke the words that came from deep inside him, from the part that was Native American. It was a phenomenon he’d never questioned. The big gray lifted his head just as Corey knew he would. Large, liquid brown eyes watched him. The pointed ears flicked forward.
Tired from the night before because he’d stayed up painting, using canvases and supplies he’d borrowed from Ellie, Corey didn’t worry about the animal biting him. He reached out his hand.
“No! He bites,” Tex said, the danger vibrating in his voice.
But it was too late. Corey reached out and felt the warm breath of the animal as it snuffled his hand. He stepped even closer, his voice lowering and softening even more. He touched the velvet nose and stroked the animal’s sleek neck.
“How many of these unruly animals does she own?”
“Five, not including him and the mare you’re training. She’s a mite softhearted when it comes to abused animals.”
Corey winced at that comment. “Tex, get me some tack.”
Tex stood still, his mouth gaping open in surprise. “But, son, he’s a monster. Jennifer won’t be happy to see you eating dirt or, God forbid, with broken bones. She’d skin me alive.”
“Jennifer doesn’t own me, Tex, she’s just hired me. I’m my own responsibility. Don’t worry. I’ll let her skin me.”
Tex hesitated then a grin flashed across his craggy face.
“Tex—” Corey pinned him, his gaze direct and focused “—just do it.”
“Yes, boss, you’re the crazy one.”
“Stan, I think this little one will do for Lilly. She’ll love him.” Jennifer kept her concentration on what she was doing. But she wanted to talk with Corey so badly it was like a pressure in her chest.
“Yeah, the child wants a pig in the worst way. I think the little sow will do fine,” Stan replied, holding the little black-and-white-speckled pig gently.
Jennifer hadn’t planned on the breeding business, she’d just fallen into it after she got Two Tone for Ellie on her ninth birthday.
“Who’s the big Indian in the black Mexican hat? I haven’t seen him around here before.”
Jennifer closed the gate and dusted her hands on her jeans. “He’s my new foreman.”
“I thought you said that big gray stallion was too mean to train. I didn’t want to sell him to you, Jennifer.” Stan sounded miffed.
“He is. I tried to train him, I really did, but he tried to bite me a dozen times. I was thinking about selling him as stock. It’s such a shame, though, because he’s such an intelligent and beautiful animal.”
“Your new foreman seems to think so, too.”
Jennifer whirled and her eyes went to the corral like radar. “Oh, hell, I don’t have the patience or the time to hire another foreman. He’s barely healed. That horse will kill him.”
She took off at a run, but it was too late. By the time she got to the corral gate, he was already astride the gray. The animal quivered and sidestepped. She watched as Corey jammed his hat tighter on his head and tightened the string.
She could only mutter, “Oh my God!” as the horse erupted into motion. But he didn’t buck straight up in the air in that twisting-bronc motion. Instead she saw horse and rider charge across the corral and cut a young bull from the herd with expertise. Then she noticed the branding fires and two of her ranch hands waiting with the red-hot iron.
It was something to see. A pure cowboy in action. Corey’s big thighs bunched and clung and she noticed how the gray knew what to do without being directed. Corey already had his rope out and was swinging the lariat over his head with quick easy flicks of the wrist. He handled the rope and the bull with skill and grace that startled a gasp out of her and the many ranch hands who’d gathered and now stood transfixed. There was a compelling magnificence about Corey that awed her. A powerful, radiant force that affected her down to her toes. A respect that insinuated itself around her. She watched him take an animal that she’d considered hopeless and bring out the promise, the sheer beauty in him. Monster, as she fondly nicknamed the stallion, stuck to the bull like glue, so precisely and beautifully in tune with it that she found herself gaping along with the rest of the hands. Both man and animal moved as one in perfect harmony. They did ten bulls quickly and efficiently.
And she couldn’t help noticing the new spring to the gray’s step, the arrogant way the horse swished his tail and strutted.
She’d tried time and again to get That Big Gray Monster to obey. She’d cajoled him, bribed him, even trained him over and over and still nothing had worked. Leave it to Corey to choose himself a rogue horse.
Whoops greeted Corey as he dismounted and patted the horse with pleasure. She saw his mouth moving and the horse’s ears swivel to catch what he was saying. He tipped his hat and his voice rose clear and full of authority, “Let’s get the rest of these bulls branded.” No matter how much she wanted to talk to Corey, branding was a hot, sweaty, dirty job and these guys would be hungry by lunchtime. She figured she had better talk to Tex to make sure everything was okay in the mess hall.
Before she could turn away, Corey’s gaze captured hers. His eyes were blazing with triumph and a hardness she hadn’t seen before, as well as a desperation that made her stomach knot. Very slowly he raised his hand to his hat and just touched the brim before he whirled. She watched in awe as the horse took off, and Corey, with the agile grace of an acrobat, mounted the animal on the gallop.
Her heart fluttered in her chest. She felt a sudden and unexplainable urge to call him back and have a showdown with him. Tell him that her heart couldn’t withstand his indifference.
She bit her lip as she approached the mess hall, her mood bleak. The demolished canvas was still uppermost in her mind. What had he seen in that painting that had made him destroy it?
A shiver of apprehension wrenched through her. She was in for a battle if she wanted to win him. She thought about their night of lovemaking and yearned for the warmth, the sweet contentment and the startling passion that had swept over both of them when their lips had met. She wanted it all with him. Everything. Happily ever after. She wanted it for herself. She want
ed it for him. And she wanted him for Ellie.
Ellie deserved a father like him. One who gave a damn. It was obvious that Corey enjoyed Ellie and she had such a huge dose of hero worship that Jennifer’s throat knotted thinking about how Ellie would feel when Corey left.
Jennifer found Tex in the mess hall, muttering and cursing to himself, and without a word she plunged in and helped him prepare the huge lunch.
Hours later the hands began to file in one by one and Tex made sure all of them had washed their hands before he let them sit down to eat steaming mashed potatoes, large thick steaks and fresh green beans. Jennifer searched the many faces, but could not find the one she sought.
Heading for the barn, she ducked inside the cool interior, a balm to the heat outside. Corey was brushing down Monster, preparing him for the afternoon workout.
“That was the most amazing horsemanship I’ve seen in a very long time.” Corey seemed to fill the barn with his presence, his sheer sensuality and strength permeating the very air. His short-sleeved black T-shirt was stuck to his chest, outlining every gloriously hard muscle. Jennifer felt a thrill in the tips of her fingers, the base of her scalp, along her exposed skin, like a slow warm tingling.
“It’s not so amazing, darlin’. He’s a cow horse and your neighbor had him riding fences. He was confused and didn’t understand. I just put him to work with what he enjoyed doing. He settled down because now he’s happy.”
She sensed that he was annoyed she was here bothering him. Or was he nervous?
She watched him continue to brush the horse with strong quick movements. His forearms, darkly tanned and powerful drew her attention. He’d used those arms to handle hundreds of live beef on the hoof, stopping them literally in their tracks. He was easily the most devastating man she’d ever met and he didn’t even have a clue.
“Want something in particular, darlin’?” He turned and scowled at her, his voice edgy. He still wore his hat and it was pulled low over his face so that all she caught was a glimpse of hot aqua and a glittering flash of warning. He still wanted her and that thought sent little frissons of heat down her back.
She smiled at him, a wicked, nasty little smile that brought dancing lights to her eyes. A smile her father would have immediately recognized and sent her right to her room. It felt good. It felt too good to be her old self again to play it safe. She didn’t want to play safe anymore. She wanted Corey, hot, out-of-control and hers. “You nervous, cowboy?”
His eyes narrowed and flashed beneath the ominous brim of his hat. He looked every inch the outlaw she’d named him. He straightened from brushing the horse and faced her. With his legs spread, he dropped his hands to his hips, which bunched the strong, flexible muscles across his chest. Her eyes were automatically drawn to him, totally caught off guard as need rocketed through her. It wouldn’t be so hard if she hadn’t felt those sleek muscles with her own fingertips. Heard his indrawn breath catch when she’d touched his nipple with her tongue.
Her eyes raised to his face. She could see him swallow convulsively. “Jennifer,” he warned.
“Are you going to draw on me? That’s fine with me. I like the weapon you use.” Her voice purred, like a contented cat. “It’s so deliciously...deadly.” She spoke slowly, letting the words come out soft and husky.
“Jennifer, don’t push me.”
“You won’t leave me, Corey. I need you.”
He swore so viciously that Jennifer stepped back. “Go back to the house and take care of business. Stop this right now.”
She bit her lip, suddenly contrite. Taking the few steps that brought her up to the stall, she picked up Monster’s bridle. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just don’t want you to think that what happened last night was all one-sided. I wanted—”
He held up the hand with the brush in it. “You’ve made your point and I’ve made mine. Don’t say any more. Not another word.” He turned to finish brushing the horse.
Jennifer decided to ask him about the canvas when he was in a less volatile mood. She shouldn’t have pushed him so soon. But she wasn’t about to give up.
“Didn’t your parents ever discipline you?” he asked caustically, brushing harder than necessary. But Monster didn’t seem to mind. He snorted and leaned into each powerful stroke.
“Yes, but usually it didn’t do any good,” she said. “I was heading for a big fall, but I’m thankful to my parents. And they helped me pick up the pieces. They died knowing that I could handle the ranch. And I’ll die before I let Jay Butler think he can use me to take it over. That’s what he wants, you know. His ranch is adjacent to mine. He thinks that now that my parents are dead, he can move in and take over my land. That’s what all this two-stepping stuff is all about. He doesn’t like to lose, Corey, and he doesn’t like interference.”
“Don’t worry, darlin’, I can take care of myself. Butler’s a mean-spirited bastard, but he better think twice about hurting you.”
The threat in his voice made Jennifer smile. “You’re such a big bad hombre, huh?”
He looked up at her, his face impassive until he realized that she was teasing him. Unexpectedly his face broke into a grin.
“How long have your parents been dead?” he asked as he picked up each of Monster’s hooves to examine and clean out the dirt and debris.
“A year. They died in a plane accident. My father liked to fly. They were on their way to Vegas.” She laughed. “My dad loved craps and Mom loved the slots. They always had a budget. When they lost what they had set aside, they came home as happy as clams.”
He saw the fond memories in her eyes and winced. He envied her her memories. “My parents are dead, too, and my little sister.” He picked up the brush again, unable to stop the flash of emotion that sliced into him.
“I’m sorry.”
His chest filled and he didn’t trust his voice. Two little words and they meant so much to him. Silence lengthened and thickened in the barn as once again Corey’s curiosity about Jennifer’s husband surfaced. Could that fall she had mentioned been her breakup with her husband? Had this man hurt her? The thought made him angry. Without examining the reason that he wanted to know, he asked the question that had been plaguing him since he’d met her. “So where’s your husband, Jennifer?”
The unsuppressed anger in his voice had her eyes lifting from the buckle she was fiddling with on Monster’s bridle. “Gone. I found him in bed with a trick rider. Our bed, where Ellie was conceived. It did something to me, changed me.” She let out a quick breath. “I guess that would change anyone. I haven’t trusted a man since.”
Corey stopped brushing and walked over to the stall door. “He cheated on you?” His face showed his disbelief and confusion. “He had a woman like you and he wasn’t satisfied? He wasn’t happy with the little life he’d created inside of you? He threw it all away? The stupid bastard.” Corey couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The man must have been a moron. He had all that Corey had ever wanted. He had it in his hands. “He threw away this—” he caressed her cheek with his fingertip feeling the response in her as she shivered “—for one night of lust?”
Jennifer’s throat tightened. “Not one night, Corey. Many, many nights. Trick riders, barmaids, barrel racers, anyone who was willing.”
“The fool. The monumental fool.”
He forced himself to move away from her, thanking God that there was a stall door in the way. He felt that fierce yearning build in his chest, churning in his gut, and Corey cursed the man who was stupid enough to throw away what was so infinitely precious to his own self. A family. A beautiful family. “And what about Ellie?”
“He’s never seen her. He even insinuated that she wasn’t his.”
Corey wanted desperately to hit something. The deepening pressure in his chest built. He wished the man was here right now so that he could take him apart. “He wasn’t worthy of you, Jennifer. You’ll find someone.” Why did that hurt? Why did those words stab into his gut like knives? He walked ba
ck to the big gray and continued grooming.
“Yeah,” she agreed.
“Yeah,” he echoed, his tone changing.
“Enough about me. What about your parents? You must have gotten that amazing talent with horses from your father,” she offered, not put off by his short, irritable tone.
“What makes you say that?” he said scathingly, shame and the old fear bubbling up in his throat. He’d gotten a talent from his father, all right, but it wasn’t his way with horses.
“Your last name is Rainwater, not a traditional Anglo name. I assume that the Indian blood you have came from your father’s side of the family.”
“Naturally.” He gritted his teeth. Half the blood that flowed in his veins came from his father. He held the brush tighter, the seething anger making its way closer to the surface.
“So I assumed that he was the one who taught you how to handle horses.”
He straightened slowly, the anger vibrating through his body exploding in ringing force. It wasn’t anger directed at her, but the power of it swept through him like a brushfire out of control. He threw the brush across the barn, a devastating fury crossing his face. His anger was even more fearful because it was so sudden. “The only thing I learned from my father was how to hate.” He stepped out of the stall, causing Jennifer to back up quickly. He cringed inside even though he hoped the violence he had inside of him would be contained. He didn’t like the frightened look on her face. He latched the gate angrily, his movements choppy.
“Ms. Horn?”
At the sound of Jimmy’s subdued voice, she turned around. “What is it?” she said sharply.
“I was checking the fences on the north pasture and, well, someone shot Sidewinder and Happy-Go-Lucky.” His young eyes were stricken at the brutality.
She covered her mouth and tears filled her eyes. “The vet?”
“I already called him, and the sheriff, too.”
