скачать книгу бесплатно
“Yeah.” Alex nodded. “I had a horse when I was a kid. But my mom and I moved to Denver when I was in junior high, and that was the end of that.” He didn’t like to think about how his mother lost their home after his father had died of cancer and the medical bills had eaten up all their savings and then some. Or the way she’d had to work two jobs to make ends meet.
He’d helped all he could when he’d grown old enough to work. He and his mother had had only each other to rely on, just like he and Hallie now did. His mom had passed away when Hallie was five.
“Guess I’d better let you get back to your groceries,” Dillon said with a wave. “If you decide to get your daughter a horse, come pay us a visit at Foxwood Farms. We’ve got some nice ones.” He headed toward the house.
I’ll bet you do.
Alex stared after him, wondering what Caitlin and her brother had been arguing over. Dillon seemed like a concerned and caring sibling. But then, one never knew what lay behind closed doors.
Alex walked back across the road, anxious to tell Hallie that she now lived across the road from one of her favorite horsewomen.
CAITLIN SAT in the living room, staring out the window. She felt tired, drained both physically and mentally. Her argument with Dillon had depleted her of the last of her energy, and she sat in Gran’s old rocker with a teacup of chamomile balanced on one knee, trying to calm her frayed nerves. She sipped from the cup, using her right hand to hold it, her left to awkwardly steady it. Her therapy continued twice a week, and though she was gradually improving, she still wondered if she’d ever be able to do the things she’d once taken for granted.
It broke her heart to see her grand prix jumper standing uselessly in a paddock when he should be in a show ring. Couldn’t Dillon understand that the gelding was a reminder of everything she’d lost? Understand or not, at least Dillon had agreed, albeit grudgingly, to get the horse trailer and return for Silver Fox.
Now as Caitlin watched Fox through the window, she saw the gelding’s ears perk. He was staring at something and, hearing the sound of a diesel engine, Caitlin craned her neck to see the far end of the paddock. A school bus was pulling away. A little girl, perhaps eleven or twelve, stood on the shoulder of the road, her gaze locked on Silver Fox. She hesitated and glanced toward the house. Caitlin ducked quickly out of view.
When she looked back, the girl was leaning on the paddock rail, talking to Fox. She stroked his nose, then bent and picked a handful of long, golden brown grass and fed it to him. The gelding lipped the treat from the girl’s hand as though starved, and Caitlin couldn’t help but smile. It brought back her own girlhood fascination with horses.
She set her cup of tea on the round, glass table near the rocker and reached for her cane. Despite her exhaustion, she moved toward the door. Outside, she called to the girl.
“Hi, there. You must be my new neighbor.” She hadn’t realized Alex Hunter had a daughter. Did he also have a wife?
The girl’s head snapped around, sending her long ponytail swinging, and her amber eyes widened as she looked at Caitlin. An odd expression crossed her face, and she pressed her lips together but said nothing.
“It’s okay,” Caitlin said. “I don’t mind if you feed my horse.” She walked excruciatingly slowly toward the paddock. “My name is Caitlin. What’s yours?”
For a moment she didn’t think the girl was going to answer. Long lashes shadowed the child’s eyes as she glanced down at her feet. “Hallie.” Then she reached up to pet Silver Fox’s nose once more. “I know who you are.”
“You do?” Caitlin was fully aware her neighbors knew of her aspirations to ride in the Olympics, and she’d been written up in more than one equine publication. Besides, the hit-and-run accident that had nearly killed her had been the talk of the town. She shouldn’t be surprised Hallie knew her.
“I recognized you from Horse Youth and Equus. I used to read them a lot.”
Recognition dawned with Caitlin, as well. She’d thought Alex Hunter seemed familiar. She remembered him now, as she looked at Hallie. They’d been in Pearl’s Diner on her birthday. Hallie had stared at her until she’d made Caitlin uncomfortable, overly conscious of her wheelchair and her limitations. They might be temporary, but she hated those disabilities, and had no idea how people who were permanently handicapped coped.
“I know you, too. Or at least, I’ve seen you before.” Caitlin forced a smile. “At the diner a couple of weeks ago.” Surely the girl hadn’t meant to be rude that day. After all, kids would be kids. But she also remembered the way Alex had stared at her. Not like she was a freak, but like he found her attractive. He was a good-looking man himself. But these days she didn’t feel much like flirting, and she wasn’t sure who had made her feel most uncomfortable, Alex or his daughter.
Elbows hooked through the paddock rails, Hallie looked at the gray gelding. “This is Silver Fox, isn’t it.” Her words came out not as a question but as a sure statement that she’d just met a celebrity of the four-legged variety.
“Yes, it is. The one and only.” She kept her tone light, though her heart felt heavy. She should sell the gelding. He was in his prime and worth six figures. No sense letting such a champion go to waste. The thought made her head throb.
“What happened to you?” Hallie asked abruptly. She looked down at the cane. “You were in a wheelchair that day at the restaurant.”
“Yes, I was,” Caitlin said. Deciding forthright was best, she met the kid’s honest, open gaze. “I was hit by a car. I suffered broken ribs, a bruised hip, a concussion and a compression fracture in my spine.”
Hallie frowned. “What’s a compression fracture?”
“It’s a break…it means I have to wear this back brace for another four weeks,” Caitlin said, lifting the tail of her shirt to expose the stretchy material that bound her like an old-fashioned girdle.
“Will it get better?”
“Probably.” But there would be residual pain, the doctor had warned.
“So then you’ll be riding in the Olympics?”
Caitlin pursed her lips. “Afraid not, kiddo.” She tapped her temple with one forefinger. “The concussion messed up my sense of balance. I can’t ride at all.” Hell, she could barely walk.
“So who’s going to ride Silver Fox?” Hallie asked.
Who indeed? Not me… Caitlin pushed the hated words from her mind. “I don’t know yet. My brother is going to pick him up today and take him back to my parents’ Thoroughbred ranch.”
“He is?” The child’s face fell.
Before Caitlin could answer, a rich, deep voice cut in. “Hallie, are you bothering Ms. Kramer?”
Caitlin turned to look over her shoulder at Alex, noting for the first time how dark his eyes were. How his hair was almost the same shade as her own, what she could see of it from beneath his black cowboy hat. In faded jeans, a Western shirt and cowboy boots, he looked every inch the rodeo cowboy, right down to the big oval buckle at his waist. It bore the outline of a quarter horse and, to her surprise, was engraved like a trophy buckle. She wondered if he’d actually won it. She hadn’t noticed any horses at his place.
“She’s fine,” Caitlin said. With effort, she looked away. The cane and her left arm, curled awkwardly at her side, made her self-conscious. She hadn’t even bothered with makeup since the accident, and her hair was in a careless ponytail much like Hallie’s. She looked more like a high school kid than a senior in college.
Former senior. For the millionth time, Caitlin cursed the drunk driver who’d shattered her life and murdered the unborn baby of the Good Samaritan in the Chevy Blazer, a woman who’d been five months pregnant.
“She knows better than to trespass,” Alex said, breaking her from her thoughts. But his tone wasn’t harsh, his voice conveying the love and pride he felt for his daughter. He grinned. “But then, so do I. Sorry about the misunderstanding earlier.”
Caitlin shrugged. “No problem.” She really didn’t want to get into her personal issues with a stranger. She wished Dillon would hurry up and get here, and take Silver Fox away. Then she could hide in the house and lick her wounds the way she liked best. Alone.
The three of them stood in awkward silence for a moment before Alex spoke. “Come on, Hallie. Let’s go home and fix some lunch.”
But the child ignored him.
He frowned. “Hallie?” He took a step toward the paddock.
To Caitlin’s shock, when the kid faced him, a single tear slid down her cheek. “I don’t want lunch,” she said. “I only wanted to feed the horse.” Her eyes accused Caitlin. “But he’s leaving, too. Everyone always leaves.” She jumped down off the fence and raced across the road and through the barbed wire fence around her dad’s property, disappearing over a rise in the ground.
“Hallie!” Alex called after her. He muttered, “I’m sorry,” then took off in pursuit.
Caitlin stared after them. What in the world was that all about? From the paddock, Silver Fox nickered softly.
“You’re always hungry, aren’t you?” Hobbling closer, she leaned the cane against the fence and cupped the gray’s head lovingly between her hands. He lowered his neck over the fence, rubbing against her. “Quit it,” she scolded him affectionately, scratching his jaw and the side of his face with her fingertips.
She buried her face in his forelock, inhaling the sweet scent of his coat, which was already turning fuzzy with the coming fall. Prior to the accident, she’d always kept him blanketed and in a warm stall to prevent his winter hair from coming in thick so he’d look good in the show ring. But once she knew their riding days were over, she’d instructed the stable hands to turn the gelding out on nice days to gradually acclimate him to the outdoors. No sense in keeping him cooped up now when he needed the exercise of roaming free in the pasture.
No sense in keeping him here, either.
He’s leaving, too. Everyone always leaves. What had the child meant? But it was none of her concern. Lord knew, she had enough problems of her own without worrying about some guy and his kid.
Caitlin felt a pull of sadness as she stood there. It wasn’t Silver Fox’s fault she couldn’t ride him anymore, and she shouldn’t take her spite out on the horse. She’d missed him during the weeks she’d spent in the hospital and in her bed at home. And unless she made a definite decision to sell him, there was no sense in shuffling the horse from one handler to another, one place to the next. She might not be capable of riding, but surely she could manage to feed and care for one single horse.
Perhaps with the help of a little girl who obviously had issues, and who maybe needed a friend. She ignored her wicked inner voice that reminded her the girl also had a handsome-as-sin father and most likely a mother.
It didn’t matter. No man would ever find her attractive again. Who in his right mind would want to take her to bed and look at her ugly, scarred and twisted body? It had been a while since she’d had a serious relationship. She’d chosen to focus on her horses, her riding and her studies. Thought there would be plenty of time for love later on.
Now all that had changed. She no longer had the career she’d wanted ahead of her, and she also no longer wanted a man in her life. To say she had nothing wasn’t fair, because her family loved her, and for that she was grateful.
She stared into the distance where Hallie and Alex had disappeared. Caitlin had thought to hide out in seclusion at the ranch. But something about Hallie had touched her.
Caitlin looked at the horse and sighed. “Maybe you ought to stay here, boy,” she said softly. “At least for a little while.” At least until she figured out exactly what she meant to do with her life.
Unclipping the cell phone from her belt, she dialed Dillon’s number. “Hey, big brother. You can have Dad follow you over here to bring my truck back whenever you get the chance, but forget the horse trailer. I’m going to leave Fox here with me. Yeah, that’s right.” Dillon’s rapid-fire response buzzed in her ear, and she rolled her eyes to the afternoon sky…so clear, blue and vacant above her.
Vacant…
Exactly like she felt inside.
“Yes, I promise I won’t try to drive right now. But I still want my truck.” She disconnected, then cane in hand, made her way slowly and painfully back to the house.
CHAPTER THREE
ALEX FOUND his daughter facedown in a patch of grass, sobbing. It was enough to break his heart. He crouched beside her and gently touched her shoulder. “Hallie, honey. Sit up. Come on, baby, let me hold you.” He held out his arms, and she flung herself into his embrace. Alex stroked her hair, soothing her until her sobs faded to hiccups and finally to an occasional sniff.
He pulled a clean handkerchief from his jeans and offered it to her. She took it, not saying a word, staring at the expanse of open land that stretched up beyond their property in a carpet of knee-high grass and dense clusters of scrub oak.
“You want to talk about it?” Alex asked. He’d learned long ago from Hallie’s therapist to let his daughter work her feelings out, and not to push. But damn it, it was hard to sit by feeling helpless while his little girl hurt so much. He’d only wanted to make her happy by bringing her here to the western slope. And now he wondered if he’d botched that, too. The therapist had warned him that sudden major change wasn’t a good idea. But as the months passed, he’d been unable to stand it any longer, not willing to stay in a neighborhood that no longer felt safe.
Hallie shrugged. “I dunno.”
He gave her a small smile. “You know, you’ve been talking to me quite a bit lately, more than you did when we were living in Aurora.”
Hallie remained silent.
“I enjoy talking to you,” Alex pressed gently. “Like the old days.” He’d been her trusted confidant, acting as both father and mother for as much of Hallie’s life as she could remember. “What happened back there at Caitlin’s? Did she do something to upset you?”
“No.” Again, she shrugged her shoulders. “I just thought it was cool to be living next door to her and Silver Fox. I hate it that she’s sending him away.”
But what Hallie had said—about everyone always leaving—obviously went far deeper than the horse being sent back to Foxwood. Alex stroked his daughter’s cheek. “Honey, you know I’m not going anywhere, don’t you?”
Hallie picked up a twig and traced circles in a patch of dirt near her feet. “Melissa left. And Grandma Hunter. And Aunt D’Ann and Uncle Vince moved to Wyoming.”
His gut twisted. Vince was married to his exwife’s sister, D’Ann. Melissa’s parents. Alex slipped his arm around Hallie’s shoulders and gave her a protective squeeze. “Not by choice, baby.” Not like your mother.
D’Ann and Vince hadn’t had a choice, either. Melissa’s death had destroyed them and they’d been unable to live in the town where their daughter had been murdered. Where so many memories haunted them. They’d returned to Laramie—Vince’s hometown.
“No. But that’s just it. Sometimes people don’t have choices. You don’t know what will happen. You can wake up one day and everything’s fine—” Her voice cracked and she struggled for control. “And the next minute it’s not fine. You’re dead or someone you love is gone.”
That his daughter should have such a fearful perspective bothered him more than Alex could say. He hated that she lived in a world where violence was common. Hated that he might have in some way contributed to that violence through his video games, desensitizing young people to bloodshed.
And now his twelve-year-old daughter, who should be worrying about boys, clothes and socializing with her friends, was instead worried about death and abandonment.
Alex laid his cheek against Hallie’s head. “You know, sugar, there are no guarantees in life. And there’s really nothing we can do about that. But there are promises, which we can choose to keep.” He pulled back and looked at her, hoping she could see in his eyes just how much he loved her. “And I promise, Hallie, I will never, ever abandon you. Not if I can help it. Besides, I’m planning to live to a ripe old age.” His lips curved in a teasing smile. “That way I can run off all the boys who come knocking on our door, at least until you’re thirty. And I’ll do the same for my granddaughters one day.”
“Da-ad.” Hallie rolled her eyes, and the gesture made his heart soar. To see her do something so normal felt wonderful.
“Well, okay.” Alex shrugged. “Maybe just until you’re twenty-nine.” He stood and took her hand. “Now, come on. You can’t sit here crying, or you’ll wash away the gully. You might even cause a flood.” He kept his voice light, hoping to make her smile.
But there were days when he wished the rain could pour down in a flood to rival Noah’s day, and wash away all the things that threatened his daughter and her happiness. He knew he couldn’t put her in a plastic bubble or lock her away in a bulletproof room. But he’d be damned if he’d let anyone hurt her. And if Caitlin Kramer was going to make her cry—albeit unintentionally—then he’d have to do his best to see to it that Hallie stayed away from her.
No matter how pretty he thought Caitlin was.
CAITLIN WOKE UP Saturday morning to a cold nose in the middle of her back. She jerked reflexively, arching her back, and a sharp pain shot through her spine. “Damn it, Spike!” Crankily, she opened her eyes and looked at the tan-and-white Jack Russell terrier her dad and brother had brought over when they’d returned her truck last night. The dog wriggled with joy, hopping across the bedcovers like a rabbit on speed. In spite of herself, Caitlin grinned and ruffled Spike’s ears. “You’ve got to learn better bedside manners than that,” she said, pushing away the sheet and blanket. Stiffly, she placed her feet on the floor. She looked at the clock—8:00 a.m. No wonder Spike was impatient.
Caitlin went to the back door and opened it for the little dog. She hoped he wouldn’t find a way to climb the V-mesh fence. Jack Russells were notorious escape artists. But it wasn’t as if she could’ve stepped outside in her camisole and panties to keep an eye on the dog. Not with Alex Hunter living across the way.
A short time later, Caitlin threw on some clothes and went out to feed Silver Fox, Spike trotting along ahead of her. The gray gelding whickered softly as she neared his paddock. She reached up to stroke his muzzle, planting a kiss on his velvety nose. “What’s the matter, boy? Did I wake up too late to suit you?” Fox’s normal breakfast time was 6:00 a.m. “Guess I’ll have to work on that, huh?”
In the barn, Caitlin leaned her cane against the two tons of hay Dillon had neatly stacked against one wall, near the fifty-five-gallon drums of sweet feed and alfalfa pellets. Even though the bales were somewhat stair-stepped, the ones on top of the pile were well out of her reach. Her brother tended to forget that the rest of the world was not six foot four. Grumbling, Caitlin stepped onto the bottom row of hay and began to climb, slowly, unsteadily, yet pleased she was able to do it. By the time she was within reach of the top row, she was shaking, her hairline beaded with sweat.
But she got a rush from doing the familiar task, one she dearly loved. The sweetness of the alfalfa-grass mix mingled with the clean scent of the wood shavings in Fox’s stall—comforting smells she’d known her entire life. Fox had come through the open entrance from the paddock to his stall, and he now nickered at her over the half door. “I’m moving as fast as I can,” she called down to him.
Spike had scaled the haystack as though it was nothing more than an anthill. He stood above her, docked tail wagging, his bright, curious eyes seeming to ask what she was waiting for. Caitlin laughed at the little dog, who appeared to be part cat half the time, and reached to grasp the twin loops of nylon twine on a hay bale.
As soon as she tugged it free, she realized her error. This bale likely weighed between sixty to eighty pounds, but Caitlin had completely misjudged it. The heavy load jerked her off balance, and she fell backward, tumbling down the stair-stacked hay. Involuntarily, she let out a shriek.
Spike bounded down and circled her where she landed on the dirt floor, barking for all he was worth. His antics made her all the more dizzy, and Caitlin groaned, clutching one hand to the small of her back. Thank God for the back brace. Still, pain shot through her extremities and her lower spine as she sat up unsteadily. She remained on the floor, trembling, myriad emotions running through her. Anger at her own stupidity. Frustration at not being able to do something so simple. And humiliation at having fallen like a helpless newborn filly trying to gain her legs. She raked a hand through her hair and growled a curse.
“Are you all right?”
Startled, Caitlin looked up into the wide eyes of Hallie Hunter. The girl stood in the doorway of the barn as though unsure of whether to move inside or take off running for help. Her face looked pale.
Caitlin shifted position, then moaned at a fresh stab of pain. “Yeah, I’m okay. Could you please hand me my cane?”
Hallie hurried to get it. She also reached out to give Caitlin a hand in rising to her feet.
“Boy, do I feel stupid.” Caitlin gave the kid a crooked grin. “Did you see me fall?”
Hallie’s face flushed, and she shook her head, her ponytail swishing. “No. I, uh, heard your dog barking and thought maybe something was wrong.” She bent to pet Spike, who leaped all over her with his usual vigor, as if he hadn’t seen a human in weeks. The girl giggled as the terrier licked her face. “He’s cute.”
“He’s a handful sometimes,” Caitlin said. “But I’m glad he set off the alarm.” She hid her embarrassment, knowing the child couldn’t possibly have made it across the road so quickly after Spike had begun to bark. She’d probably been lurking in the vicinity to visit Silver Fox again. In all likelihood, Hallie had seen her lose her balance and fall so unceremoniously from the haystack.
“I thought you were going to send Silver Fox to your parents’ ranch?”
“Yeah, well, I changed my mind,” Caitlin said. “You want to help me feed him?”
Immediately, the girl’s face brightened. “Sure.”
But before Caitlin could move to cut the twine on the bale that had tumbled to the floor with her, Alex’s deep voice carried from across the way. “Hallie! Hallie, where are you?”
“Over here, Dad!” Hallie shouted. “In the barn.”
Caitlin’s stomach churned. What had she been thinking? That she could befriend the girl and avoid the kid’s dad? Self-consciously, she realized what a sight she must look. She’d tossed on a T-shirt with no bra and a faded pair of jeans. And she knew she had hay sticking in her hair, since she was still in the process of picking flecks of leaf and stem from it.
