A Cowboy To Call Daddy. Sasha Summers

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СКАЧАТЬ so studying and learning an animal’s...bonds are important. You and Fester have a connection—something he’s had with no human since he came to us five months ago. I’d like you to help him find his place here, his herd. And I’d like to study the process.”

      She met his gaze. He was sincere. And intense. She drew in an unsteady breath. “I can’t. Thank you.”

      “Can’t isn’t a philosophy I subscribe to, Miss Caraway.”

      She bit back a smile. She appreciated his determination. But he wouldn’t feel the same when she was a Monroe again. “Dr. Boone, I’m afraid things might get a bit more complicated.”

      He frowned. “Why?”

      Because I’m lying to you about who I am. She swallowed, choosing another truth. “My children are arriving today.”

      His frown increased. “Children?” His surprise was obvious.

      She nodded. “I have two.”

      His frown sharpened, his cup spinning in his hands. He opened his mouth, closed it, then said, “Surely your husband—”

      “My personal life is my own, Dr. Boone.” She straightened in her chair. “I informed you only so you’d understand my answer to your offer.”

      He continued staring at her, frowning.

      He could frown all he wanted; she wasn’t going to change her mind or apologize for having children, for crying out loud. Besides, she couldn’t stay. She wasn’t here to help him...she was here for her father.

      The review board meeting was in two weeks. And in those two weeks’ time Eden had to have the information that would allow her to support her father’s wishes. Once she’d gained his support, she’d be out of her basement cubicle and into her father’s good graces—where she belonged. Something she’d been far more enthusiastic about before meeting Archer Boone, his sister and Fester.

      “I apologize for prying.” Archer’s gaze was no less intense, but his frown had faded into something softer, something vulnerable and searching.

      “No apologies necessary.” Her voice wavered. He needed to stop looking at her like that. She needed to keep a level head. “Isn’t there some sort of specialist that can see Fester? Surely there are people far more qualified who could help him.”

      He sat back, stretching his long legs out in front of him and crossing them at the ankles. “There are, but he didn’t respond well to the two who visited.” His smile was tight. “One went home with a horse bite bruise on his thigh. The other said Fester should be turned out to pasture. Or destroyed.” He shook his head, his attention wandering out the window. “He’s too young, too spirited, to be written off. I’ve seen the damage that a horse can cause, but...I’m not ready to give up on him.” He spoke carefully, as if his mind was already searching for possibilities.

      Eden stared; she couldn’t help it. He was lost in thought, determined to find an answer. What she wouldn’t give to hear his thoughts out loud. He wanted to help Fester, wanted the animal to be happy. He cared, deeply. Yes, he was a little rough around the edges, but he was direct—not rude necessarily. And he was incredibly handsome. So far everything she’d learned of the unexpected Dr. Boone was good. Which, considering her purpose, was bad. It would be easier if he’d been flagrantly misspending grant funds or his work ethic was suspect or his facility was dangerous or out of compliance. None of which was the case. Worse, she found herself respecting his single-minded, detail-oriented, fiery loyalty to his work.

      If he ever used that undivided focus on a woman... She shivered, snippets of her dream all too vivid. The shudder that ran along her spine was unexpectedly delightful. No no no. She needed more coffee. Or a long run. Or something. Why her mind kept detouring into the bedroom when it came to Archer Boone was a complete mystery.

      “Problem is, he won’t work with anyone.” His gaze locked with hers. “He pretends people don’t exist...” The unspoken “except you” hung in the air.

      Eden refused to take the bait. What he wanted was impossible. Besides, the Fester Archer spoke of wasn’t the same horse who’d walked her home and hugged her. Her Fester had taken care of her, sought out her company, talked to her. She couldn’t believe she was the only one Fester would warm up to.

      “Just like a child, Dr. Boone,” Eden murmured, focusing on her papers before she changed her mind about helping Archer with his wayward horse. “Keep them busy and they stay out of trouble. Leave them idle and that’s when the trouble starts.”

      “Exactly. And it’s Archer. Fester has been through a lot, Miss Caraway.” Archer stood, slapping his cowboy hat against his thigh. He paced from the window and back before stopping directly in front of her.

      “I’m sure you’ll find someone to help you.”

      “I’ve tried.” He shook his head. “I’m disappointed you won’t help me.”

      She looked up then, frustrated by his choice of words. It would be easier to say no if it was just a job. But to Archer, this was so much more. “I’m an accountant, Dr. Boone. That is my job. And considering how little time I have left here, I should probably concentrate on the job you hired me for.” Her fingers fell to the turquoise stones, seeking calm. Keep it together. She had legitimate reasons to feel guilty. Turning down his request to help with a difficult horse wasn’t one of them.

      He stared at her for some time. His pale gaze drifted, traveling over her face, her hair and her neck. His attention lingered there. And Eden sat frozen, her skin going warm.

      He cleared his throat and nodded, leveling an almost hostile glare at the piles in front of her. “You do that, Miss Caraway,” he bit out, slapping his hat against his thigh again, making her jump. He leveled a hard stare at her and left, slamming the door behind him.

      She sat, stunned. All that because she’d said no? Looks be damned, his temperament was no better than Fester’s. She already had two children; she didn’t need more.

      She stood, carrying her coffee mug to the small break room down the hall. She added a heaping amount of sugar and creamer before heading back to her office. She lingered over the pictures that lined the hall. Newspaper clippings, magazine articles, ads, fliers, programs and several certificates honoring Dr. Boone, the refuge and the important work being done here.

      Several of the refuge horses had gone on to help out as therapy animals, some were companion animals, while others stayed right here, working on the ranch. Her guilt increased. She knew the refuge would probably survive without the grant funds, but they’d likely mean cuts. Cuts for the horses, like Fester. Or Archer’s staff... She tore her attention from the wall and returned to her desk.

      What did her father know that she didn’t?

      She sighed, rolling her neck and sipping her coffee. She placed the mug on the edge of the desk and moved to the window. Constant motion. Man, dogs, horses and some cattle. No one was idle or hesitant about what needed to be done.

      There was one large barn that fed into a series of open sheds, made up of stalls. At the end of the sheds, smaller pens branched off. Some looked like small tracks with a large wheel in the middle. Others resembled small mazes, with chutes and gates. Like the ranch archway, the structures were made of thick beams and stone. While functionality clearly took priority, there was no denying the buildings blended seamlessly into their СКАЧАТЬ