To Protect His Own. Brenda Mott

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ 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.

      Lovely.

      But what did it matter?

      You aren’t yourself and you never will be. The guy was here for his daughter, not for her. Caitlin faced him as Alex came through the barn door.

      “Hi,” he said, and then frowned at his daughter. “Hallie, you know better than to take off and not tell me where you’re going. I thought we talked about this yesterday.”

      “Da-ad.” Hallie squirmed with obvious embarrassment. Looking up at her father, she quirked her mouth. “I was helping Caitlin.”

      Caitlin made an effort not to mimic Hallie’s squirm as Alex’s gaze raked her from head to toe. She picked more hay from her hair. “She’s helping me feed.”

      “Really?” Amusement lit his chocolate-brown eyes and his lips curved, making her heart СКАЧАТЬ