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Must be nice, she thought. But she supposed a lawman was never really off duty, and so who was she to pass judgment?
“It’s just a little too far to walk,” she said, “and my brother already took off with the Rhino.”
There he went studying her again. Why, oh why, did she feel her skin begin to prickle, her fair flesh no doubt changing colors like a neon sign behind a window. It was as if he knew she had a secret.
“The Rhino is an all-terrain vehicle Jax bought to drive back and forth to the stable area,” she explained because she felt the need to say something.
“I know what a Rhino is.”
Then why did he stare at her so intently? She almost asked the question. Instead she swallowed, looking toward his truck. “Is it unlocked?”
In response he moved to the passenger side of his truck and opened it. She hadn’t had a man open the door for her in, well, a long, long time.
“Thanks.”
He smiled. She had to look away.
Great. Less than two minutes in his company and it was all she could do to look him in the eye. He made her edgy. Made her mouth go dry at the mere thought of sitting next to him for a quick jaunt to the stables. He caused her heart to beat what felt like a million beats per minute.
“Need help up?” he asked, holding out a supporting hand.
“No, I’m fine.”
She’d never been inside a law enforcement vehicle before, and so she told herself that was why she hesitated to get inside. There was a gun on a rack in between the seat and a computer on a stand attached to the dash. But she knew that wasn’t why she paused. It was because she was suddenly...afraid.
Why?
He must have thought she couldn’t make it up on her own, because he helped her anyway, his hand capturing the crook of her elbow and gently guiding her. She might have moved, but inside, everything froze, her breathing, her heart, even her vision as she stared straight ahead. And then he let her go and she wilted into the cab of his truck, the door sealing with a pop.
Oh, dear Lord.
How would she ever make it through the next few hours?
* * *
SHE’D GONE QUIET on him. That was okay. They didn’t need to get chatty, or even friendly, not if he wanted to keep his distance—which he did, he reminded himself. George’s reaction the other day had been all the proof he needed that she was too young for him. The man had razzed him right up until the moment he’d walked away. And if he needed further proof, he’d done some checking around. Knew for a fact that she was twelve years his junior. Too young. When he’d been eighteen, she’d been six. Hell, when he’d been in combat, she’d been in high school. It had just felt wrong to notice how attractive she’d looked standing there in her tight jeans and a white T-shirt that clung to her body. Wrong and yet oh so right.
“There it is.”
It took her words to shake him out of his reverie, to look ahead and damn near slam on the brakes. A barn had come into view, although calling it a barn was like calling the White House a home. It wasn’t just a stable; it appeared to be an arena and stable combined, one with a steep angled roof and large wooden beams poking out from the side just like the main house.
“Exactly how rich is your brother?”
“I know.” She shot him a tight smile. “It’s massive, isn’t it?”
And it only grew bigger as they approached. It’d been built in the middle of a meadow, one framed by redwood fence posts, horses grazing in the distance. It was a covered arena, he noted, but clearly taller than any he’d seen before, and he realized why as they drew closer. He could see windows inset into the long side, not the type used to allow light into the interior but large panes of glass trimmed with dark-stained wood. The exterior of the place was all wood, too. No metal beams in sight like most big-time arenas. Amazing didn’t begin to describe the place. Even the short side of the arena, something that was usually kept open, had been closed off, cathedral-sized windows stretching toward the top, smaller on the short side and then getting bigger toward the middle.
“Are those apartments along the top?” he asked, having spotted walls through the side windows.
She nodded. “Both sides, actually. Four in all. They’re for guests.”
He’d never seen anything like it. But what a great idea. Judging by the size of the arena, the apartments must be huge and, he would bet, every bit as luxurious as the main residence.
“Do you have anybody living in them?” He didn’t see any cars parked out front. The place seemed completely deserted, so if her son was inside, he couldn’t tell. The only sign of life was the Rhino parked out front, the vehicle stopped at an odd angle. He pulled up next to it.
“Not yet.” She glanced over at him, but it was quick, her hazel eyes catching his gaze for a moment before she looked away. She was like a shy kitten, one that wanted to be friendly but didn’t quite trust the human next to her. “Kyle should be inside. They’re getting a horse ready to ride.”
There was an entrance on one side of the barn with double doors and the initials HFH carved above it, and she slipped out of the truck and headed toward it. Hooves for Heroes. A sign stood next to the door. He silently whistled as they stepped inside, and if he were honest with himself, he half expected a red carpet on the other side. Instead there were more big beams stretching up toward the crown of the roof, the same beams that poked through the sides. It really was like a cathedral, he thought, pausing to get his bearings. Sunlight filtered in through windows in the roof. Tiny motes of dust danced in the beams of light, the particles seeming to swirl through the air. No need for artificial lighting in here, at least not during the day. The smell of freshly stained wood mixed with the pine and Bren knew they must have just completed construction a short time ago.
“Mom!”
Her son had slipped out of a stall, or maybe a grooming area—they were too far away to tell—his short legs pumping as he ran down the aisle.
“Hey,” he warned. “No running in the barn. You might spook the horses.”
He still couldn’t believe this was anything resembling a barn. The boy skidded to a stop, a wide smile on his face.
“Uncle Jax is in with Rowdy, but we’re having a little trouble with the saddle.” Brown eyes just like his mom’s peered up at him. “Thank goodness you’re here. YouTube has been no help.”
For some reason, the words almost made him laugh. Was everything YouTube-able these days? The kid turned and started to run back the way he’d come, caught himself and walked, but his steps were just shy of a jog, he was so full of enthusiasm and eager anticipation, and it made him want to smile and point out to Lauren how lucky she was that she’d found her son’s passion so early in life. He didn’t. She would barely look at him today and it had him wondering yet again what had happened to her. No amount of poking around had helped. She was too new to the area. He’d resisted the urge to snoop around online, too. Or use his resources at work. Whatever it was that had turned her kind eyes into pools of uncertainty, he would find out...in time.
They reached what was clearly a grooming stall. Bren would have gone inside except he drew up short at the sight that greeted him. Bren had seen some pretty remarkable things during his tenure as sheriff, hilarious things, and so he somehow held it together. What he wanted to do was double over in laughter. The horse’s halter was on upside down. They’d gotten the nose part right, but the leather strip that was supposed to run beneath the chin and throatlatch stretched instead up the middle of the horse’s face like some kind of medieval headstall. The halter should have buckled up by the horse’s ear, too, but the brass fitting must have been on the other side, down by the throat. The cross ties were attached to the rings by the neck, not the ones by the horse’s nose. And the saddle was on, but they’d used a back cinch for the front and the front girth for the back, although how they’d managed to do that when they had different fittings was anybody’s guess. But perhaps the most comical thing of all was the look on the sorrel horse’s face. It had such a pained expression of “help me” in its eyes that it was all Bren could do to hold it together.
“What’s wrong?” Lauren asked.
“Well,” he said, tipping his cowboy hat back. “It’s hard to know where to start.”
Chapter Five (#ulink_b64fe4f2-a226-58dc-8e4e-37531984095b)
“This is why you need to hire somebody to manage the horses,” Lauren said, standing back and watching Bren fix the horse’s halter. “And to think, I was going to have you help Kyle ride the other day.”
“Yeah, good thing I got sick,” Kyle said.
“I already did hire somebody,” Jax said, hands on his hips. “She won’t be here until next month. I told you.”
“Thank goodness I didn’t ride him that day,” Kyle said. He stood at Bren’s elbow, intently observing everything the man did. “I could have been killed.”
“Judging by how this horse tolerated everything, I doubt that.” Bren stood back, and she hated the way her cheeks heated up when he turned to face her. Well, turned to face her and her brother. It was just embarrassment, she told herself, although she’d had nothing to do with getting the horse ready to ride.
“How are you going to manage a horseback-riding program when you don’t even know how to put a saddle on?”
The look on her brother’s face was one she recognized from her childhood. Stubbornness and determination. She remembered the look from when he tried putting together a new set of Legos. “I know how to put one on.”
“Yeah, now,” her son said.
Jax just shook his head in that way he had. He might be ten years her senior, but they’d had plenty of tussles in their youth. They’d usually involved the television remote or his computer games, but this was no different from the time she told him not to steal their dad’s car keys. Her brother had never been able to take criticism well, which was part of the reason why he’d been so successful in the military and then later when he’d started his own private contracting firm. He was a take-charge kind of guy, even when what he was in charge of was something completely unfamiliar.
“I’m just glad Bren came over before something happened.”
Jax shot her an impatient glare, but before he could say a word, Bren interjected with, “You ready to learn how to ride?”
Her son’s enthusiastic “Yes!” startled not just her but the horse, too, the animal lifting its head, eyes wide.
“Okay, so that’s lesson number one.” Bren tossed her son a smile, one that made her insides do something strange, and that reminded her of the way Paul used to look at him...before. “Don’t yell around horses.”
Okay, don’t think about Paul.
She inhaled sharply, her emotions too close to the surface. “Thank Bren for teaching you to saddle up a horse.”
“Thank you, Bren,” her brother said in a singsong voice that made her want to elbow him in the side. Her son glanced back at his uncle and smiled.
“Thanks,” Kyle said. “Although I really wish I was riding a steer.”
“In time.” Bren patted her son on the head and that made her go all mushy all over again. Goodness, what was wrong with her? It’d been four years since Paul’s death. Four long years of waking up in the middle of the night, scared to death. Of waiting for him to call, only to realize he never would again. Of hearing a car pull up and going tense inside and then recognizing that it wasn’t Paul and that he wasn’t coming home and feeling such a rush of relief coupled with guilt and horror that she could feel that way. Lord, how she wished she could get over that. She’d been hoping the move would help. It hadn’t.
She felt her brother’s gaze on her. The two of them had gotten close since her husband’s death, probably in part because Paul used to work for her brother. She had a feeling Jax knew everything about her and Paul. All of it, which explained his insistence that she move in with him.
“Do you know how to lead a horse?” she heard Bren ask, the man so much like Paul and yet so different. Or maybe not. They all started out nice at first. History was littered with the bodies of women who’d been suckered in by a sweet smile and a bouquet of roses.
“Sure,” her son said confidently, taking the reins from Bren’s hands and tugging the horse forward.
“No, not like that,” he said as the horse planted its feet, neck stretched out in response to her son pulling on the reins. “You need to get back by his head. Walk alongside of him. Ask him nicely to follow you with your hands.”
But Bren had more patience than Paul ever had. He smiled at her son, and if she were honest, she could admit she liked the smile. It seemed filled with kindness and a genuine desire to help.
“Maybe I should be in on all this training,” she heard her brother mutter.
“Maybe you should,” Bren echoed.
“You should take lessons, too,” her brother said to her.
“What?”
Bren must have heard Jax, because he’d paused, and she could feel his gaze on her and it made her want to turn away, to face her brother and place her hands on her hips and demand, What were you thinking?
“You need to learn how to handle horses,” he said with a smile.
“Why would I need to learn that?”
“You totally should, Mom,” Kyle said. “That way you could help out around here.”
Her brother’s smile grew. “Exactly.”
She shot her sibling a glare because her brother knew how she felt about horses. They were too big. Too...smelly. Too...scary.
“No, thank you. I have enough to do, what with school and finding a job and raising a son. Or have you forgotten that I’ve got one more semester before I graduate as a registered nurse? I plan to work for a hospital, not a horse hotel.”
“It’s a therapeutic ranch,” Jax corrected.
“And it’s a beauty, but I’m not taking horse lessons.”
“What if there’s a fire?” They all turned toward Bren. “Or a natural disaster,” he added. “What if you’re needed in the barn for some reason?”
She let out a breath she hadn’t even known she’d been holding. He had changed. Or something in his eyes had changed. He no longer stared at her like a dog would a porcupine. Instead he stared at her in a way that made her skin flush. As if he had tried to pry open her head and see inside.
“The odds of me ever getting near a horse are slim to nil.”
“You don’t like them?” Bren asked.
“I much prefer dogs.”
His eyes took on the glint of a gold coin in the sun. “That’s too bad.”
Why? she wondered. Why was it too bad? What did he care if she liked horses or not?
“Well, I think I should hire you. At least until my new hippotherapist arrives.”
“Jax, the man already has a job. He doesn’t need another one, I’m sure.”
“Actually, I’d love to help out.”
That made her head whip around so fast she temporarily blinded herself with her hair. “You don’t have to do that.”
“No. It’s okay, but I have a favor to ask in return.”
Her brother eyed Bren expectantly. “Name it.”
“I do some volunteer work down at the VA and I know someone who could really benefit from a program like this. Any chance I could bump his name to the top of your guest list?”
“You got it,” Jax said. “Frankly, we’re so new we don’t even have one yet, but your friend is first.”
Bren came forward, hand outstretched. “Deal.”
And that was when Lauren knew she’d be seeing a heck of a lot more of Bren than she wanted to.
* * *
BREN SPENT AN HOUR working with her son, an hour during which Lauren stood off to the side and watched. Her brother didn’t seem to mind helping out. He acted as spotter when Bren started Kyle on trotting. Jax wasn’t afraid to dive in and work, something he admired about the man. He didn’t act like someone with a pile of money, either, and that impressed Bren, too. There were two types of people in the world: those who had money and liked to let everyone know it, and those who had money and kept their humility. Jax Stone was the latter.
“You getting sore up there, buddy?” Bren asked as the dust the horse kicked up settled around them. It was getting dark, not that it mattered. He was sure the place had lights.
“I’m fine.”
That’s what he said, but Bren knew differently. They’d been working him pretty hard. He’d taught the kid the distinction between sitting on an animal and actually moving as one with a horse. He’d taught him signs to look for in not just a horse but a steer, too. A tipped head gave clues as to what direction an animal would take. Ears could indicate anger or fear or interest. Animals communicated in a hundred different ways if someone just took the time to pay attention, and it was that type of knowledge that could help you in competition.
“He won’t quit unless you tell him to stop,” Lauren said quietly.
They leaned against the wooden rail that surrounded the arena. He’d turned Kyle loose a few minutes ago on Rowdy. He didn’t know who’d picked out the ranch’s livestock, but they’d selected a winner in Rowdy. The horse was patient and kind and knew how to treat a stone-cold beginner like Kyle. As for Jax, he’d taken off a short while ago to answer his cell phone. It was just the three of them inside the massive space.
