The Cowboy's Bride. Carolyne Aarsen

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СКАЧАТЬ had worked every waking minute, had scrimped and saved and established his reputation as a horse trainer. After all those years he was finally ready.

      A couple of weeks ago he had applied for a loan, and on his way back from Calgary this afternoon, Dale had raised Joe on his mobile phone. Could he come in as soon as possible? Dale was sketchy on the details, but Joe was pretty sure it had to do with his loan.

      Joe leaned his elbows on the knees of his faded denim jeans and ran a hand over his chin. He wished he had had time for a shave and a change of clothes.

      Not that he needed to make an impression on Dale, he thought ruefully. Dale had seen him looking worse, but he did want to project a professional image.

      He tapped the toes of his boots restlessly against the ceramic tiles of the waiting area, stifling his impatience at the wait. Roy, his boss, wanted him in the city in two hours. He hadn’t seen his horses for a couple of days. He was itching to start Talia, his most expensive horse by far. His stake horse. The beginning of an illustrious line, he thought with a wry smile at his dreams.

      “Are you sure you don’t want any coffee?” Sharla, the receptionist, asked, smiling at him from behind the desk. “It’s really no trouble, Joe.”

      “No. Thanks.” He glanced impatiently at his watch. If Dale didn’t come in the next few minutes, he would have to get the information over the phone.

      He got up and began walking around, trying to stifle his nervousness. His future hung in the balance, and he didn’t want to admit it, but he was frightened. Please, Lord, let them approve the loan, he prayed as he paced.

      “Mr. Brewer?”

      Joe turned at the sound of the quiet female voice, then tried to keep his mouth from falling open. In front of him stood the vision he had seen in church on Sunday, the woman with the angelic face.

      “Expensive” was the first word that came to mind as Joe looked her over. Hair, makeup, clothes all had that smooth, clean look. She exuded an elegance that made him feel suddenly gauche and awkward.

      “I’m Rebecca Stevenson. Dale is on the phone right now and will join us shortly. I’m going to be sitting in on the interview.” She stayed where she was, holding a file folder in front of her, while Joe pulled himself together, suddenly very conscious of his faded denim jacket with the frayed edges and the stain on the knee of his blue jeans.

      “Sure,” he said, forcing a smile, trying to absorb the information.

      “We’ll be in here,” she said, indicating an empty meeting room with a wave of a well-manicured hand. She turned and walked slowly across the reception area, a hitch to her walk, as if she had hurt her leg.

      Joe hurried to open the door to the meeting room, but Miss Stevenson already had her hand on the door-knob. She pulled away at his touch and took a quick step backward. Only she didn’t quite make it. For some reason, she lost her balance, one arm flailing, the other still holding the manila folder.

      Joe instinctively caught her around the waist, his other hand catching hers. “Sorry about that. You okay?”

      “Let go of me,” she said through clenched teeth.

      Joe obeyed then stood back as she ran a hand over her hair and smoothed down her blazer, then steadied herself, her lips pressed tightly together.

      They stood in front of the door for an awkward moment. Then Joe took another chance and reached past her to open it.

      “Thank you,” she murmured, avoiding his eyes. She walked past him, her movements slow, her limp more obvious.

      Joe held onto the door a moment, puzzled at her reaction, then followed her into the room.

      Miss Stevenson lowered herself into a chair on one side of a long table across from him. She brushed a hand over her hair, tucking a wayward strand behind her ear, avoiding his gaze.

      Joe felt like a heel. “I’m sorry about that,” he said quickly, sensing this wasn’t the most auspicious introduction. He shrugged, feeling suddenly self-conscious. To cover up, he flashed her a grin. “I thought you were going to fall.”

      Her hand paused in midair, and her fingers curled against her palm. “I wouldn’t have,” she answered, her voice chilly.

      “Sorry.” Joe carefully pulled a chair away from the table. He had obviously stepped over some unknown line. Just needs room, he thought. Some of the more skittish colts he worked with were like that. Didn’t like being rushed.

      Miss Stevenson gave her head a shake, as if to rearrange her hair, folded her hands on the table in front of her and gave Joe a polite but cool smile. “You can sit down, Mr. Brewer. Dale will be here shortly.”

      Joe nodded absently. He wondered why she had to be here. Maybe Miss Stevenson would be helping him on the finer details of the loan.

      The door opened, and Dale stepped into the room, smiling apologetically. “Sorry about that. Just had to clear up a few things over the phone.” He shook Joe’s hand, then sat down. “Glad you could come in on such short notice. I take it you and Miss Stevenson have already met?” Dale looked at Joe, then at Miss Stevenson, his gaze lingering on her.

      “Yes, we have,” Joe said wryly, noticing the way Dale couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off Rebecca Stevenson. Not that he blamed the guy. Joe had had the same problem in church on Sunday. But if she was out of his orbit then, her first impression of him put her in another galaxy by now.

      “Okay.” Dale dragged his gaze away from Rebecca and pulled his chair close to the table. He smoothed his tie as he laid a file folder on the table.

      “I hope you don’t mind if Miss Stevenson sits in on this meeting?” Another coy glance at Rebecca.

      “She’s going to be taking over a few files for me, and I thought this would dovetail nicely into your other plans.”

      Joe shrugged, feeling like a spectator. A quick glance at Rebecca’s face revealed the same composure she had shown in church, the same expression on her face. A real professional, thought Joe, looking at Dale. She didn’t seem to mind, or if she did, she didn’t show it. “Fine by me,” Joe said.

      “We’re also waiting for your brother, Lane. He was supposed to be here, as well.”

      Joe wondered what Lane had to do with his loan. But Dale was busy, paging through some papers, and didn’t see his questioning glance. Joe didn’t want to ask Miss Rebecca Stevenson.

      Dale found the paper he seemed to be looking for and pulled it out. He smoothed it on the table and looked up, his expression suddenly serious. “What has happened here is that we were unable to secure financing for your newest venture, at least not in the amount you requested. A couple of factors have come into play. One is the lack of collateral and a dearth of up-front money. Secondly, we don’t have enough of a history of that type of business. It’s a risky one, from what we can see…”

      Dale went on, and Joe felt a clutch of panic gripping his midsection. “Unable to secure financing,” were the only words that registered in his numb brain. He forced himself to stay in his chair, forced himself to keep the casual smile curving his lips, forced himself to keep listening as his entire world slowly drifted away from him.

      Why, СКАЧАТЬ