Must Love Horses. Vicki Tharp

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СКАЧАТЬ hues of dawn had just started to fade, and the light breeze swirled warm thermals around her. She caught hints of warmth, but it wasn’t enough. She rubbed her hands over her bare arms, wishing she’d grabbed her hoodie.

      Her little trailer had been unhitched and maneuvered into place beside one of the big stock trailers. Her truck was off to the side of the tractors, out of the way, the hood up—a big gaping mouth half swallowing a man. The gravel crunched beneath her feet and the man turned as she approached. Bryan. She glanced down at his right foot. There was a cowboy boot where the blade had been. He noticed her looking. Didn’t comment. Didn’t explain. Not that he owed her one.

      She tossed her chin toward her truck. “What’s up?”

      “Keys were in the ignition. Thought I’d take a look.”

      To make it easier for her to leave if she got fired? But his blue eyes were sincere, like he wanted to help. So maybe he had a thing about damsels in distress. Not that she was either a damsel or in distress now that she had a job, but she knew how some men were.

      Observation, not complaint.

      “Help yourself.”

      She wanted to wrap him in a bear hug and plant a fat, wet smack on his lips. Mostly it was the gratitude urging her on.

      He ducked under the hood and held a grease-stained T-shirt beneath something he’d disconnected. “Start the engine.”

      She climbed in. The engine cranked and wheezed like an asthmatic looking for his inhaler—not that she’d expected it to start with whatever it was that was disconnected.

      “Cut it,” he called out.

      She tugged the keys from the ignition and tossed them on the seat. “Well?”

      “Fuel pump is shot. Here.” He motioned for her to lean in next to him and pointed out the fuel pump and the gas line he’d disconnected. “No gas coming through the line when it’s cranked.”

      “Sounds expensive.”

      One more expense she couldn’t afford. But she wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon, so maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing. At least Eli was healthy and it wasn’t a vet bill.

      Under the hood, with no breeze, she thought she caught a whiff of alcohol on his breath. The air in her lungs caught and she had to force it to move again.

      She took an involuntary step back. Her brain didn’t want any part of a man with alcohol issues, while at the same time her heart found excuses. His eyes were clear. Maybe it was mouthwash.

      Mouthwash my ass, Practical Sidney, one of her alter egos, said. Sidney much preferred Impractical Sidney. She tended to be a lot more fun.

      No, she had to stop jumping to conclusions and leaping headlong into an abyss of worst case scenarios. Besides, at this point, a paying job training horses pretty much made it worth putting up with whatever other bullshit was involved.

      “You can use Mac’s computer at the house, check prices online. About time for breakfast anyway.” He wiped the grease from his hands and shrugged into a jean jacket that molded to his body better than a tailor-made Italian suit ever could.

      “Wha-at?”

      He grinned when she pulled her eyes up to his.

      Smooth, Sidney, real smooth. Practical Sidney rolled her eyes.

      Sidney’s stomach grumbled. At least a part of her was paying attention to something other than the fit of his clothes.

      “Food. Big house. Now,” he said, slow and simple as if she’d been clocked in the head with a hoof.

      He dropped the hood and they headed toward the big house which really wasn’t that big. Three or four bedrooms maybe. Old enough it could have been original with the small second story added on at some point over the years. Deep porches both front and rear.

      As they climbed the rear steps, Sidney saw cabins down the hill. An older log cabin, a shell of a cabin with the roof nearly complete, and two concrete foundations where she assumed two others would go.

      “My cabin is down the hill just out of sight.”

      She nodded, not knowing what else to say to that, but it didn’t seem like he was expecting a reply.

      He grabbed the handle of the screen door and ushered her into a large kitchen, warm with the heat of cooking and full of delicious smells. Eggs, bacon, hot maple syrup, biscuits, coffee. Mmmm…coffee…

      The rich scent of fresh ground coffee beans gave her system a small jolt. Her mouth watered and she fought the urge to dig bare-handed into the spread on the table.

      “You must be Sidney.”

      Sidney did a double take. She’d been so focused on food and coffee she hadn’t noticed the woman in the kitchen behind a bright purple apron. By the woman’s gray hair and sun-worn features, she pegged her to be somewhere in her sixties, but she was solid. Not as in fat, but strong and fit for her age. A stiff breeze wouldn’t blow this woman over—in fact, Sidney got the impression Mother Nature would probably think twice about messing with her.

      The woman wiped her hands on her apron and extended it to shake. “Welcome to the Lazy S. I’m Lottie. My husband Dale and I own the ranch. Mac told me so much about you.”

      The good and the bad, Lottie’s expression said, but as Sidney gave the woman’s calloused hand a firm pump, she realized that, unlike with Bryan, there was no judgment there. Only the acknowledgment of her situation, and somehow the air suddenly felt lighter, easier to breathe. “Ma’am.”

      “Grab a plate and a seat before the piranhas pick the bones clean.”

      She didn’t see how that was possible; the long table practically groaned under the weight of the spread. Bryan leaned in and gave Lottie a peck on the cheek as he reached around and stole a piece of bacon off a platter. Lottie swatted his hand, but there was no heat behind it.

      “Take that to the table,” she ordered him, indicating the plate of bacon.

      He grinned, the slice of bacon sticking out between his teeth.

      Sidney took the closest vacant seat. Bryan deposited the bacon in front of her and took the empty seat across the table as the slice disappeared between his lips. She introduced herself around. Dale was at the head of the table. Lottie brought a carafe of coffee and sat to his right. Mac was to his left and beside Sidney. The man on her left was a hand named Santos.

      As soon as they were all seated, it was like the feeding bell had rung and everyone dug in and started passing plates. Her stomach growled again, and even over the scrape of forks and knifes Bryan heard it. His eyes lit up and her face flushed. Damn her fair complexion.

      Bryan dropped an extra scoop of hash browns on her plate and opened his mouth to comment, but someone knocked on the jamb of the back door. The hinges of the screen door cried out for oil as it opened and a man stepped in.

      It was like a scene in an old western, when the cowboy steps into the saloon and all heads turn. The morning sun backlit his large frame as he nearly blocked the doorway. A gun hung at his hip and a СКАЧАТЬ