by Dora Hiers
The space was rustic and rather primitive, but she’d done a great job making the interior comfortable and homey with her feminine touch.
“Feel better?” Remi’s emerald orbs speared his, striking him again with their depth and beauty. They appeared to be guile free, but he’d been fooled before.
She stood at the kitchen counter, two plates stacked with sandwiches, sliced apples and chips in front of her, a spoon poised over a coffee cup.
“Much. Thank you.”
“I forgot to ask how you take your coffee.”
“With sweetener if you have it.”
She nodded and dumped white powder from a couple packets, stirred. She tossed the spoon in the sink and handed him a plate and mug, gesturing for him to follow.
“Thank you for this.” His stomach growled. How had the time gotten away from him?
“You’re welcome.” She settled on a worn leather couch and stretched her long legs onto an oversized ottoman. A fire glowed in the gas fireplace, chasing the unusual early fall chill from the room. Goliath had stretched out in front of the hearth, his chest lifting with soft snores.
He sank onto the other end of the couch, feeling the need to keep space between them, while breathing deep of her spicy, floral scent. Get a grip, man. Wait until she figures out who you are. That’s always a game changer.
“Mind if I bless the food?” he asked.
“Sure.” Her eyebrows lifted then her lashes fluttered closed. She lowered her head.
He offered a short heartfelt prayer, including thanks for the new cria, then took a giant bite of the sandwich. “Mmm…ham and cheese. One of my favorites.”
For a little thing, she sure devoured lunch fast, finishing hers about the same time as him. They settled back with the coffee.
“At least you smell better.” She took a sip. Green eyes sparkled at him from over the rim of the mug.
“You could have warned me, you know.”
Her mouth gaped open, but it didn’t disguise the curving of her lips. “I did warn you.”
“About thirty seconds too late.”
“Nah. You were just standing thirty feet too close.”
So, she was a bit feisty. A grin slid across his lips, enjoying the banter. “Does Jumbo ever spit on you?”
“Not often. He’s a smart one. He knows who feeds him. Mostly he spits on his buddies when they get too close to his food, but I guess he was upset with you for trying to block his view of Snickers.” Her lashes dipped for a second then flickered back up, her voice softening. “Thank you for all your help today.”
Spunky, yet shy. Two traits he found extremely intriguing.
“You’re welcome.” He nodded and glanced around the room, cradling the warm mug, taking pleasure in the gentle company. He spent too much time around the shop with testosterone-heavy males.
“It’s not much, but it works for just me.”
His gaze jerked back to her. Did she think he didn’t like her comfortable home? That wasn’t the case at all, but he couldn’t tell her what he’d really been thinking, could he?
He glanced at the slender fingers gripping the mug. No rings.
So she was single. He tried to squelch the bud of excitement from sprouting and taking shape, but it didn’t work.
“Actually, I was thinking about how nice it felt in here.” With you, but he left that unsaid. “It may be small, but what it lacks in size or opulence, it makes up for in coziness and livability.”
So different from The Castle, the nickname he’d adopted for his house, which was much too big and formal for his liking. Why had he ever allowed Lisa to talk him into purchasing the gargantuan place?
Really, if he counted the bathroom as part of the master bedroom, he only lived in two rooms of The Castle when he was there, which wasn’t often. From the looks of it, Remi used every room of her house. Much more practical.
“That’s sweet of you to say, but I recognize my limitations. My brother and stepfather helped with a lot of the conversion, but they have full time jobs, too. Lives of their own.”
Meaning she did much of the work herself? Impressive. “It was a stable, right?”
She nodded.
“That’s pretty creative. What made you think of converting a stable into your home?”
“When I bought this property, the stable was in bad shape. There was no way I would use it to house animals as it was, but I saw the potential to transform it into a comfortable living space. It’s not where I envision it yet, but without more time and money…” Her voice trailed off as she shrugged, picked up a throw pillow and hugged it to her chest.
Yeah. Everybody wanted money. Usually his money.
“Like I said, it works for me, and I love it just the way it is.”
He angled around to see her expression, surprised to find a soft, satisfied look on her face. She obviously meant what she said. Interesting thought process, though, her taking the stable because she didn’t consider it fit for the animals.
“What do you envision?” he asked, more to keep her talking than from curiosity, so captivated he was by her voice, her expression, and her caring spirit.
She flicked long dark strands behind an ear. Was her hair as smooth and silky as it looked? His fingers itched to find out. He hiked one leg over the other and pressed back against the cushion, propping one hand on his thigh and the other around the arm of the couch.
“My master plan calls for a second floor with spare bedrooms and an adjoining bath. I’d also like to add a half bath downstairs. Right now it’s just one bedroom and one bath.”
Hmmm…an updated kitchen with more modern appliances wasn’t on her list? Was that due to lack of funds? Or because those items weren’t a priority?
And why more bedrooms if it was just her? Did she hope for a family to share the space or was it more for resale value? He kept those questions to himself. “How do you handle everything here by yourself?”
“Oh, I couldn’t do this on my own. My brother, Camdon, has been a huge help, along with my mom and stepfather. And a handful of volunteers.”
So, her brother’s name was Camdon, and she was close to her mom and stepfather. Mason filed that information away for future retrieval. If there was to be a later…he found himself wishing for one.
“Do you get many volunteers willing to drive out this far from Charlotte?”
She wrinkled that cute little nose. “Not as many as I’d like, but every person makes a difference.”
Not enough volunteers. Just as he suspected. “That sounds like a politically correct answer.”
Her laughter warmed his belly more than the coffee. “Maybe, but it’s the truth. I couldn’t manage the sanctuary without them.”
He hadn’t seen anyone on the ranch besides her since he’d arrived that morning. That meant she did the bulk of the work around here herself. She could use more help than she let on.
He studied her profile. High cheekbones, a cute button nose sprinkled with freckles, dimples that always seemed to be winking, long silky hair. His gaze dipped to the slender legs that stretched forever.
He wanted to get to know her better. Was she more sass than sweetness? He didn’t think so. He would give up winning the next race to catch a flash of those dimples, to get a front row seat as she worked her charm on the animals, and to delve into why she turned so melancholy after that phone conversation. But how could he do that without giving away his identity?
Eventually she would figure out who he was. In the meantime, could they spend enough time together before the ridiculously exorbitant amount in his bank account became a factor?
Time was what he needed. An investment of time, rather than money, at this point. Could it work?
He rubbed the back of his neck, letting an idea percolate. Could he commit the time to volunteer regularly at the ranch?
He spent every weekend at tracks across the country. What about the rest of the week? The season was winding down, and he employed capable men and w
omen who could run the shop, people he could depend on to get things done when he wasn’t around.
Could he commit to two days a week? Three?
For so long now he’d invested everything into his racing career, and God had heaped abundant blessings on him. Maybe God was nudging him to invest time and effort into finding that special someone and less on his livelihood. He was tired of opening the door to the huge, lonely castle knowing nobody waited for him inside. He longed for love, laughter and children to fill the empty holes in his life.
What was the alternative? Ending up like his seventy-year-old buddy, Harley, a pit crew chief from Mason’s early racing days, long since retired. Harley’s wife had divorced him ages ago because his career involved spending so much time away from home. He’d lived alone for decades, with no family nearby, just his racing buddies who were gone most of the time.
Lisa might have divorced Mason for entirely different reasons, but the result was the same.
At thirty-two, he lived alone, no love or laughter gracing his home. But then, life with Lisa hadn’t included either of those. And children hadn’t been on her bucket list.
God, what should I do here? I don’t want to deceive Remi, but it would be great to get to know her outside of the context of money.
She turned to face him, and he caught a glimpse of lingering pain in her expression, similar to the one he’d witnessed while she’d been talking on the phone. What was that all about?
He wanted the chance to find out.
“Count me in.”
****
She coughed, her eyebrows lifting her forehead. Was this guy for real or was she in the middle of a sweet dream? First, he arrived in time to assist with her first cria delivery, and now he was offering to volunteer at the ranch?
“Count you in for what?” Surely, she’d misunderstood.
“Your volunteer ranks.” His arm reached along the back of the couch, and he turned those cocoa orbs loose on her. Her pulse zapped a response that she felt all the way to her toes.
She’d just met the guy, and already a strong physical pull tugged her to him. It had to be a natural response to seeing the miracle of a cria birth, and then sharing coffee and conversation with a male other than her brother or stepfather.
Factor in relaxing in front of a glowing fire and a snoring dog, and she was toast.
Feeling an urgent need to put a little space between them, she sprang off the couch and moved to stand in front of the stone hearth. Goliath’s sleepy head popped up then plopped back down on his paws with a moan.
There. She felt safer over here. Less vulnerable. Now, if she could only slow her heart rate down to normal. She rubbed moist palms along the denim of her jeans. Willed her voice not to rebel. “Really?”
“Are you trying to dissuade me?” His hand scrubbed the whiskers smattering his cheeks, but that didn’t hide his boyish grin.
Was she? Trying to dissuade him?
Her gaze landed on his sculpted biceps, taut against her brother’s snug shirt. His worn jeans bore the stains of demanding work on a ranch, and he looked so comfortable stretched out on her couch, as if he belonged there.
Shivers tingled along her arms, and her breath caught.
Most of her volunteers were teenagers. How would she handle a man, and not just any man, but this fine specimen, on her property for an extended period?
She gave her arms a brisk rub. She’d have to assign him chores in the farthest field or she would never get any work done. “The only reason I would ever turn down a volunteer is if they were an animal abuser.”
His face darkened, and he practically growled. “Animal abusers deserve to be locked up, and the key thrown away.”
His passionate words ignited similar feelings within her, but she’d become somewhat jaded over time owning the animal refuge. If law enforcement couldn’t lock up the abusers, she’d settle for moving the animals to a better place, to people who would love and treat them with respect. “I agree. We procure quite a few animals who have suffered from abuse. Jumbo was one of them. That’s why he misbehaves occasionally, but underneath all the craziness, he’s a sweet soul, just looking for a little bit of love.”
“Jumbo was abused?” From his tone and clenched fists, she gathered that he’d like to beat the abuser to a pulp.
“Yeah.” She didn’t want to go into the specifics, how gaunt and parasite-infested the poor animal was when he first arrived at the sanctuary. “His owner couldn’t afford to take care of him and pretty much abandoned him.”
Left him to starve to death. Literally.
Remi cleared her throat and swiped at her eyes to keep the tears from spilling over. Why did people do that? Procure animals as pets, only to discard them as they would trash.
“It’s obvious you love them.” His voice, low and husky, did weird things to her insides.
“Llamas have quickly become my favorite animals.” She took in a deep cleansing breath and exhaled slowly, trying to restore her composure. She’d loved Jumbo from the minute he arrived, but her brother and Jillian always complained about his behavior. Hopefully, consistent training and loads of love would cure his unpleasant habits.
“I like Jumbo’s spunk.” His soft tone and gentle expression were balm to her wounds, and although he referenced the llama, Mason’s gaze never wavered from her face.
She looked away as heat rushed up her neck.
He pushed off the couch and reached for his dishes. “I better get started.”
Goliath bolted from his near sleep and trotted over to Mason. They were leaving already. Disappointment lodged in her chest. Over what, she didn’t understand. She was used to spending days at a time alone. Well, not really alone because she had the animals around, but minus any companions of the human variety.
“I’m going to check on Reesie.” His long, powerful strides took him to the sink where he rinsed his plate and cup.
She followed, until they stood side by side at the kitchen counter. He smelled clean, the rose scent from her bathroom soap hovering around him like a delicate cloud.
She smiled and stifled a chuckle at the incongruence of the floral scent coming from this totally masculine guy. What did he normally smell like? When he wasn’t sporting llama crud or rose soap?
He flashed a questioning gaze as she deposited her dishes in the sink.
“Yep. Like I said. You definitely smell better.”
“Like I said. I like spunk.” He looked straight at her, a smile tugging up one corner of his mouth and warmth radiating from his eyes. “Next time I come I’ll make sure to bring my own soap. Something a little more manly.”
So, he planned to come again or was he just saying that? Her heart stuttered then raced, and her palms moistened just thinking about a return visit.
“Or learn to dodge Jumbo.” Her voice came out quivery.
“I think I’d rather be friends.” He leaned closer, still maintaining a safe distance, but close enough that she glimpsed his loneliness. Or was it merely a reflection from her eyes?
“He’d like that. He has very few male friends,” she whispered. Jumbo tended to be wary around men. Just like her.
“Good.” He cleared his throat and moved back.
She released the air that had backed up in her lungs.
“What would you like me to do after I check on Reesie and Snickers?” He tugged on his shoes and turned, his fingers gripping the door handle.
Huh?
“Do you have a list of chores for the volunteers?”
Did he see the startled expression on her face? The doubt?
“Are you sure you have time?” She really hadn’t taken him seriously. How would a busy vet afford time away from work to help her at the sanctuary?
“I’m here. I’m all yours for right now.”
His words dashed frigid water on her dreams, and her bubble crashed.
I’m all yours for right now. Yeah. How could she forget? Her dad used to spout those very words. He’d ta
ught her life’s most important lesson. One she wouldn’t let go of any time soon.
“The stalls need mucking.” An unpleasant task, for sure. After he finished, she needn’t worry about the handsome vet showing up at Forever Family Animal Sanctuary again.
He scratched his head and nodded. “Okay. See you in a bit.”
Not likely. He’d probably hang out in the barn for a few minutes, just enough time to make him look good then slink away in that fancy car of his.
The door clicked closed behind the vet and his dog.
She glanced at the clock. After one already? A ton of chores could be done outside, but she wasn’t about to head to the barn now. She could work on some grant applications until he left, which wouldn’t be long.
She booted up the computer and searched the Internet. After completing a grant request, she checked the time again. One hour had passed. Stretching her back and arms, she glanced out the front window.
The vet’s car hadn’t moved. He was still here?
Well, it had only been an hour. She sat back down and resumed her search.
Two more hours crawled by. She rose and moved to stand next to the window. Pulling the fabric back with her fingertips, she stared out the window.
His car was still there!
Remorse poked her like a stick in the belly. Maybe she hadn’t given the guy enough credit. She filled two thermal mugs with coffee and scooped some oatmeal cookies into a bag, and then left for the barn. She’d bring a peace offering and let him off the hook.
She froze near the entrance to the barn. The guy was humming? While he mucked out the stalls? Shaking her head, she continued inside, catching her breath at the vision of his backside as he bent over, brushing her horse.
He must’ve heard her because the humming stopped. He glanced over a shoulder, pride in his expression as he patted the horse’s rump. “I finished the stalls. I thought I’d introduce myself to your horses.”
“Ah, I see you met Pocono.” She tossed a biscuit to Goliath then held out the mug and the bag of cookies for Mason.
