Zyon. Mira Brooks

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      This was not going according to plan. He’d wanted her to meet his brothers, all of them, before he told her about the Rescue Ranch, that it wasn’t only about horses, but about women, too. But he had such a good feeling about this woman, about what she’d been through and how she’d come through it. He’d done a lot of research on her, and called her parole officer to talk about her.

      From what he’d heard, he knew she wanted to pull her weight, to get back into society. Her parole officer said she was emotionally vulnerable. But she held it inside; she probably hid it from everyone she met. He imagined taking care of her, holding her in his arms while she cried, and stroking her hair until she fell asleep in his arms.

      “I don’t think I understand,” she said.

      Holt toyed with his tea glass. Then he picked up the pitcher, filled his own glass and topped off hers.

      “To members of the public, we rescue horses. We bring them back to health, then find them new homes. To the state of Texas, we rescue more than that. We are a licensed home for abused women. We have six cabins toward the back of the land. Five of them are for ladies who are seeking a new life. One of them is for the den mother. That would be you.”

      The shock on her face made him wish he’d taken it just a little slower. Finally she said, “So I wouldn’t be cooking, and cleaning?”

      “Not for us. We have a regular lady that comes in and does the cleaning twice a week, and we cook for ourselves. Although some of that cooking involves take out and pizza.”

      The smile on her face made him grin back.

      “I like the idea,” she said, “but if you’re licensed by the state of Texas, you have to know they won’t approve an ex-convict as an employee.”

      “The wheels are already in motion, in case you wanted the job,” he said. “We need you pretty quick.”

      “May I ask what happened to your last den mother?”

      “She has cancer,” he said. “She’s still working for us, but as the treatments progress she won’t be able to. She’s thirty, single, and like you an abused woman.”

      Her body stiffened, and Holt fought the urge to take her hands in his.

      “Her name is Mercy,” he said. “She told me this afternoon that if you’re uncomfortable staying in the house with six men you don’t know, that only one of the cabins is occupied, and you could stay down there.”

      She nodded. He noticed she did that quite a bit, using her body to answer questions instead of speaking. He’d have to work on that with her.

      “I’ve given you a lot to think about,” he said.

      Once more she nodded.

      He was going to have to work on her verbal skills, make her talk.

      “Do you ride?” he asked.

      She frowned, and he waited for her to answer. Finally she said, “Ride what?”

      “Horses,” he said. “This is a horse ranch after all.”

      “No.”

      One-word answers were not going to work either.

      “Have you ever ridden?” he asked.

      She shook her head, and he cocked his head and said, “I prefer spoken answers.”

      “Um no, I’ve never ridden a horse.”

      “We’ll have daily lessons for that,” he said. “We have UTVs that can take you between here and the cabins, which are about two miles out.”

      “That’s a long way,” she said.

      “We sell horses here, and we want to make sure the cabins are not seen from the stables. You don’t have to walk there.”

      She nodded once more, and when he cocked his head, she said, “That’s good.”

      “Why don’t we take your things down to the cabins,” he said. “I can give you the nickel tour and you can rest until supper.”

      “Sounds good,” she said.

      He stood and offered her his hand. She took it, and when they were both standing he said, “You’re going to have to work on your vocabulary.

      “Yes, sir,” she said, and then she actually smiled.

      Holt’s jeans tightened as his cock stirred. He hadn’t had this reaction to a woman in a long time. They had a standing rule at the Rescue Ranch that the brothers didn’t get personally involved with the ladies who came through. But there was no rule about the den mothers, and Holt was very happy about that.

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