“What gross or painful chores do you have planned for today?” She thought about the first time she’d seen him. At least they weren’t enemies now. Friends? With the hormones zinging between them, she wasn’t sure they could ever be friends, but a truce was nice.
“I’m going to check the paths and fences. Thought you said you’re ready to take a horse out of the corral.”
“How could I be ready?” One riding lesson and he thought she could ride a horse? He looked like he enjoyed watching her expression, so she sucked it up. “Sure, why not?”
“Don’t worry. I’m good at teaching. It’s part of what we do out here, remember?”
She kept a good two feet between them as they walked. They had flirted and eyed each other the past few days, but she wanted to put a stop to it. If they got involved, how would she get a fair chance here? How would she trust him?
He glanced over several times. She bet her thoughts were written all over her face, but that was a good thing, at least this time. He needed to know how things were between them.
“How long are you planning on keeping that rental?” He asked as they neared the stables.
“I need a vehicle.” She needed something to remind her she could leave if she chose, and that she was here by her own decision.
“There’s a pickup we keep around. Why don’t I give you keys to it?”
She met his eyes, uncertain of his intentions. It would save her money, at a time when she didn't have it coming in. Still, she said, “I don’t know.”
“I hadn’t thought about it, but Ben paid cash for it last year. Just a little truck, about fifteen years old, but it runs. Suppose it’s yours.”
Uncomfortable, she tightened her scarf and thought it over.
“I guess . . . Then I can take the rental back and not worry about it anymore.” She didn’t like how awkward it felt at times, to use Ben’s things. Did it bother Brent? When she looked back at him, he met her gaze, probably seeing her doubt.
“It’s just the way it is. I was pissy when you got here, but it wasn’t about you. Believe me.”
Unable to answer with words, she nodded. At the stables, he took her around to the tack room. “We keep the keys right here. Here’s an extra set.”
He dropped them in her hand. Thank you stuck in her throat. Just a few days ago, he had wanted to run her off. Now he handed her keys to one of the ranch vehicles.
He watched her face, so she nodded like it wasn’t that big of a deal.
“You can take Speckle today. She’s gentle and isn’t particular about who rides her.” He pulled equipment down for them to use.
“Speckle?”
“She’s an Appaloosa like Jeffery, and she came with the name. She’s your horse, now, guess you can rename her. But she might not like it.” He waited for her to lead the way into the stables. She noted he’d grabbed one saddle. “Pad first.”
Since he held it out to her, she assumed she was going to learn how to saddle a horse. So she laid the blanket over the horse’s back. The black horse, across the way, watched and protested loudly. Missy gave Brent a look since she didn’t get horse talk yet.
“He wants to go, but I’m not taking him out with you along.” He didn’t elaborate on why, but Missy turned to the angry beast, remembering it had been Ben’s horse.
“What’s his name again?”
“Dancer.” He flicked a look back at the horse and turned back. She hadn’t seen him pay attention to Dancer at all, now that she thought about it.
“He misses Ben,” she said, wanting to sooth the horse but didn’t dare reach out to him. Brent waited with the saddle, so she went to work.
Judging by the look in Brent’s eyes and the emotional charge to the air, he missed Ben too, but she wouldn’t say that now.
She heaved the saddle up and adjusted it. A book she’d checked out had shown her how to lace up the girth strap and cinch it. Though he didn’t direct her, she gave it a try.
“Hook the stirrup,” he said, pointing.
“That’s it?” she asked, looking it over. Should she ask him to check it?
“Looks good,” he said as he tugged on it here and there. “Lead her out. I’ll saddle Jeffery.”
Outside, she made it up on the first try. It was easier without Brent standing behind her where he could stare at her bottom.
“Hey, Speckle,” she said to the horse and rubbed her neck to get acquainted. They needed to trust each other. Trust wasn’t something she gave away easily, but this felt different.
Brent emerged with Jeffery.
“Hey, look at me. First try, even.” She couldn’t remember the last time she felt gleeful. She breathed in the cold air, feeling snappy and alive.
“I am looking.” He mounted his horse and clicked. She almost missed his comment, but suddenly did a double take at him.
She started to say something about it, but she did ask for it, didn’t she? One side of his mouth lifted, and he moved his horse up next to hers.
“Speckle knows what she’s doing,” Brent said, tilting his head to look at her, “So you’ll be getting used to sitting up there on the trials.”
They rode out along the pasture and then turned into the forest of cedar and pine. Brent glanced over every few minutes, but he never commented. She hoped that meant she was doing okay. Ferns grew in clumps on the ground under the forest canopy. Water dripped off everything.
“Feel okay?”
“I love it.” She didn’t want to look so happy in front of him, but when he gave her an honest, friendly smile, she couldn’t hold it in.
“I thought all this would be hard for you.” He ducked under a pine branch. “You sure you’ve never done this before?”
She shook her head.
“Missy?” he persisted.
“All right. I wanted to ride when I was younger.”
“Your father wouldn’t let you?”
“They used four wheelers. And feedlots. I couldn’t stand to see the cattle in their pens. It seemed like they were always slaughtering.” She stopped and turned her face away. She didn’t care how friendly they got, she wasn’t going to cry in front of him.
“Sounds like it’s a good thing this is a horse ranch.”
They rode in silence until they reached the top of a hill, where she could see the ocean far below, rolling in wave after white wave. She’d never smelled the ocean before, and could only describe it as a salty deep sea smell.
The water jetted up where it hit giant boulders. Cold. Dangerous. And breathtaking. Since he let her sit for several minutes to just gaze out, she forgot that he watched her.
The water stretched endless to the north and south while it faded into the sky in front of them. She couldn’t distinguish the line where ocean and sky met.
“Now do you see why I love Oregon?” Brent’s soft voice drifted into her thoughts like the waves moving inland below.
Turning, she hoped her expression worked for an answer. Something so vast, mysterious, and alive left her without words for it.
So did Brent. He looked magnificent with the pale blue sky behind him and his blue eyes reflecting all the color around them. He sat with such ease, but his eyes weren’t relaxed. They were fixated on her like the wind might steal her away.
Well, she gawked right back, so she couldn’t sass him about it.
“I’ve never seen the ocean this way.” Her whisper mixed with the singing breeze and the soft, subtle ocean music. “Just from an airplane. This is much better.”
“I’d have to agree.” He held her still with his gaze. Just then the breeze brought his scent to her nose. Man, hay, and something refreshing. Her hair whipped across her face, and she joined reality with a jerk.
Something was brewing . . . weather-wise.
“Well, we got half a day of clear skies.” Brent still didn’t look away and now she burned all over. “Guess we oughta get back before you get soaked.” The corners of his mouth twitched.
“Yeah, I’d
need another long, hot bath.” She turned just before she smiled.
* * * *
“Brent?”
He heard her call from the stable entrance. His hands paused as he filed Dancer’s hoof, but he fought the desire to look up at Missy.
He waved instead of calling back since the horse was a bit jumpy. Dale and Ivan had held off on taking care of Dancer until he could get there. All three of them were wary of the horse. It missed Ben something mighty.
“Sounds like she’s done brushing Speckle already.” Dale jabbed him. “You can go on with her.”
“I started this.” Brent kept working, knowing Missy would come over to talk to them. “Ivan, don’t let her get too close to him.”
He glanced up to see her, but then he couldn’t get his attention back on the job at hand.
She stood by the corner to look for him as she gathered her hair over one shoulder. Her petite body looked delicate, but her eyes said right away not to mess with her. As he watched, she stuffed her hands in her pockets and started his way.
The horse partially hid him, so maybe she wouldn’t see him stare. Her green sweater did something to her skin, made it richer in color. He thought of her almond brown eyes watching him as she sat on her horse. Whatever was happening between them . . . well, it couldn’t be good if it consumed his mind every second of the day.
Dancer snorted, so he made a soothing sound as he watched her.
“Brent!” Dale jerked toward him.
“Uhh!” His yell was cut short as he hit the ground. Pain sparked in his ribs, blocking out the pain of impact with the ground. Damn horse kicked him!
He looked up at clouds, cursing his hormones, cursing Missy, the horse, and his damn wondering eyes.
He saw Dale and Ivan lean over him. “That’s one quick horse.” Ivan added a few swear words as he looked at the horse and then Brent.
“Ivan get the horse back!” Dale ordered and knelt down. “Brent?”
He held a hand out so Dale wouldn’t touch him. He didn’t need fussing over, no matter how many ribs he’d broken. His side throbbed, but he couldn’t get a breath in to say so.
“Brent?”
At her voice, Dale laughed. Brent tried for an evil glare directed at Dale as Missy came close enough to see Brent on the ground.
She looked so genuinely worried Brent wanted to smile, if he didn’t hurt so darn bad.
“Holy crap! What happened?”
“Not crap, ma’am. The horse kicked him.” Dale held eye contact with Brent and rubbed his chin, a nervous habit. “He wasn’t ready.”
“Yeah,” Ivan joined in. “His mind must have been elsewhere.”
Brent made a mental list of everything he’d say to them as soon as he could talk.
“Aren’t you going to help him up?” She knelt beside him.
“Maybe we shouldn’t move him just yet.” Dale, at last, sounded worried.
Brent didn’t want all of them to worry over him, so he forced himself up onto his elbows. This time he couldn’t hide the pain.
“It’s your side, isn’t it?” Dale didn’t wait for the answer, but braced Brent against him, pulled him to his feet, and started for the truck.
“Do you want me to come along?” Missy offered, her hands clasped in front of her. He wanted to reassure her, but he sure as heck didn’t want her at the hospital with him.
He waited until Dale got him in the truck before he looked back. Ivan was taking Dancer to the pasture. Missy hadn’t moved, and still watched as they drove away.
“Gets you fast, doesn’t it?” Dale asked as he steered around a corner.
Brent thought he meant the horse at first, until he looked over. Dale met his gaze with knowing eyes.
“Yup, took three days for Alice to get me.”
Damn his side. He wanted to argue the point, but instead he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Maybe the pain was good. He could think about it instead of Missy.
* * * *
They’d been gone all evening. She paced a while and then cleaned like crazy. Fractured ribs couldn’t be that bad. Maybe it was a few, or maybe nothing was broken. She didn’t know yet.
After a huge sigh, she started dinner. The least she could do was have something ready for him to eat. They’d been gone four hours when she walked to his house to leave dinner in his fridge.
She was glad that he didn’t lock his front door. Of course, the horses didn’t need to break in and steal anything.
She put his dinner away and couldn’t help but think of the first time she’d stood in his kitchen. How had so much changed so fast?
Slowly, she walked into the other room. She’d clean for him, but he kept the place spotless. Should she call the hospital? That’d make him happy. She again noticed how bare the house looked. It needed a few small paintings, decorative rugs, something. She shook her head at herself and left.
Back in her house, she tried to finish a book but couldn’t. At eight, she went outside, thinking she’d missed the truck.
The cold knocked her back inside, so she got her coat and stepped out again.
A clear night. That didn’t happen too often. The stars were suspended in layers, some close and some distant. She stared up for a minute and listened to the night. A dove cooed several times as it settled in for the night.
Did Ivan take care of the horses? Things were messed up tonight, so she’d check. Brent’s house was still dark when she walked by.
The horses were in their stalls, but they didn’t have blankets on them.
“Let’s hope I do this right. No laughing,” she told them as she pulled a blanket over the first horse. It looked like a coat to her, with Velcro in the front to secure it, but Brent had called it a blanket. Course he’d used the same word for the smaller blanket that went under the saddle.
She didn’t worry about getting in the stall with Jeffery, Speckle, or the other horses. But Dancer watched her with knowing eyes.
“Hey, there.” She could feel each beat of her heart. “Don’t kick me, too, okay?”
She didn’t get behind him. From the railing, she leaned and draped the blanket around him.
His noises sounded sad. She stepped back and reached out with one hand. What had happened today?
When he nuzzled her hand, she got the impression he knew who she was. Her heart grew heavy, the same way it had when she’d first slept in Ben’s old house.
“I’m Missy,” she said, surprised that she didn’t feel strange for talking to a horse.
Dancer snorted. The truck rumbled softly and grew louder. She patted him goodbye and went to the entrance to watch Dale pull up and help Brent out. She waited until Dale left before walking over.
She pulled her coat closer and rubbed her nose. If she wanted to stay, she’d have to get used to the weather at some point.
At Brent’s door, she knocked and went in. He couldn’t get up and come to the door, after all. Dale had left the hallway light on, and it shone into Brent’s room.
She sucked in a breath when she saw him with his eyes closed in sleep. He’d rolled his head a little to one side, and the light fell on him. She hadn’t noticed his thick eyelashes before, or how full and pouty his mouth looked. Add that to his movie-star cleft chin, and he had one handsome face.
What would it feel like to cradle his face in her hand? He didn’t seem to have five o’clock shadow, but the light wasn’t bright enough to tell.
His blanket was pulled up to mid chest, leaving his bare shoulders exposed. They were as nice as she’d suspected. She’d like to run her hand down his neck to his shoulder and feel his muscles. His hands lay on his stomach as it rose and fell.
She knew she shouldn’t, but she started toward his bed. He looked unguarded, defenseless. Sweet and sexy.
Was she high on fresh country air? Something had taken a hold of her since she came here. It couldn’t be this man.
The floor creaked when she reached his bed. His eyes opened and blinked at her. “Missy
?”
She blinked back for a second. “Thought I’d check on you.” Blushing, she hoped he wouldn’t ask why she’d snuck into his bedroom. “How bad is it?”
His injury didn’t hurt his appeal. She put her hands in her pockets, shifted her weight. Hmm, interesting floor, isn’t it?
“I’m on bed rest for a month.” His voice was quiet and low. “I think you’re going to be busy.”
At that comment, she looked back to his face. There wasn’t the normal lift in his voice or gleam in his eyes to belie his seriousness. But he couldn’t mean it, could he?
She looked him over for a long minute. “A month? I don’t believe a horse could put you in bed that long.”
He gave it up and smiled. “A week maybe. Just some bruised ribs.”
“That’s a relief.” She sat down on the edge, thought about jumping up, but tried to act like she didn’t feel awkward sitting there.
“Is it?” he asked, his hand sliding down and brushing hers.
“You brute!” She considered the best way to get her hands around his neck, but she settled for a soft nudge to his chest. She just couldn’t punch a man while he was down. “You’ve thought the worst of me since I arrived.”
“And you of me, haven’t you?”
She crossed her arms, glancing off to the side in a big show. A guitar case leaned against the wall in the shadows.
“You play?” The case was too small for a guitar. “What is it, a banjo?”
“A violin, you snob.” He wrapped an arm across himself when he laughed. Knowing he was in pain ruined her show of indignation.
“You know, you’re beautiful when you laugh . . . or get shy . . . or try to ride a horse and find yourself out of control.” His fingers grazed the back of her hand again. Suddenly she had no trouble calming down.
“Brent, don’t . . .” She suspected he was teasing again, but she didn’t want him to tease her along those lines. “Listen, if you’re after someone to take care of you, I’ll help. You don’t have to flatter me with whatever that was.”
A Cowboy For Christmas Page 4
