The Prince's Cowgirl Bride. Brenda Harlen

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СКАЧАТЬ because it had been so long since she’d been with a man.

      She frowned, trying to figure out exactly how long it had been, then realized if she had to think about it that hard, she probably didn’t want to know.

      When Jewel left the stables, she saw that Russ had returned from his errands in town, and her lips curved with genuine pleasure as she made her way toward him. Her smile slipped a little when she noted the scowl that darkened his usually handsome face.

      “Did you see Scarlett’s foal?” she asked.

      His only response was an abrupt nod. Then he jerked his head in the direction of the barn. “Was that him?”

      “Who?”

      “The guy who drove up in the fancy wheels. Is he the new groom Cody said you hired?”

      She nodded. “Mac Delgado.”

      His scowl deepened. “What do you know about him, JC?”

      “I know that he doesn’t panic under pressure.”

      “You hired him because he helped deliver a foal?”

      “It’s not my usual interview technique, but I’d say he more than proved himself. If he hadn’t been here, I might have lost both Scarlett and the baby.”

      “Cody would have come through for you.”

      “Cody was shaking so badly I’m surprised he managed to dial the phone when I asked him to call the vet.”

      “You’re mad that I wasn’t here.”

      She shook her head. “There’s no point in being angry about anything. There weren’t any of the usual indicators that she was going to foal so soon and, truthfully, if she’d waited another couple of weeks, you’d be gone anyway.”

      “Is that why you hired the first guy who showed up here?”

      She shifted her gaze away, not willing to admit that she still had her own reservations about Mac—though they were more personal than professional. And considering the way he’d come through for her, she figured she owed him a chance. “I don’t answer to you, Russ.”

      “No,” he acknowledged. “But it used to be we talked about things, made decisions together.”

      “That was before you decided to leave.”

      “Are you going to throw that up at me in every single conversation we have over the next nine days?”

      “Maybe.”

      His jaw tightened.

      She sighed. “I’m sorry, Russ. I know that wasn’t fair.”

      “I’m not abandoning you, Jewel.” The quiet words were filled with understanding.

      She nodded, grateful that he didn’t say what they were both thinking. Like her mother. Like Thomas and Allan and everyone else who had ever claimed to love her. And she knew he honestly didn’t see his leaving as yet another abandonment—but it sure felt that way to Jewel.

      Marcus worked closely with Russ over the next seven days, learning the routines of the farm and getting acquainted with the animals and the people who worked with them. He barely crossed paths with Jewel during that time and she certainly never stopped to engage him in conversation. In fact, the most response he ever got from her was a nod acknowledging his presence—certainly no more than any other employee.

      At first, he enjoyed the novelty of being treated just like the other men. But after a few days, her indifference started to frustrate rather than amuse him. Until he realized it was studied indifference—and that she would only have to make such a deliberate effort to ignore him if she was as aware of his presence as he was of hers.

      He heard her name come up in conversations and blatantly eavesdropped, trying to piece together a picture of who the woman referred to by most of her employees as “JC” really was. He was surprised to learn that she’d spent some time on the rodeo circuit before her father’s first heart attack several years earlier, after which she had come home to help with the running of the facility. He also learned that she was both liked and respected by the men in her employ, most of whom had been with the Callahan Thoroughbred Center for years.

      The owners who came to the onsite track to monitor the progress of their horses weren’t as unanimous in their praise. While they thoroughly approved of the facility, they weren’t sure that “Jack’s daughter”—as Jewel was frequently labeled—had her daddy’s head for business. And then they’d look across the fields and shake their heads. Mac had yet to figure out what that was all about.

      By the end of the week, he was exhausted. But it was a good exhaustion—the kind that came from hard physical work. His hands weren’t as soft as they’d been the first day he came to the farm, but the sting of blisters was a small price to pay for the enjoyment of working with the horses and the satisfaction of knowing he’d done a good job.

      “Hey, Mac.” Crystal tossed him an easy smile and a quick wave as she passed by the track, where he was watching some of the yearlings work out.

      “Hi, Crystal. Where are you racing off to?” he asked, falling into step beside her.

      “Haven. And I’m late.”

      “Where’s Haven?”

      She stopped in her tracks and stared at him. “How long have you been working here?”

      “My seven-day trial period ended today. Since your sister hasn’t fired me yet, I assume she’s willing to keep me on.”

      “I can’t believe she hasn’t told you about Haven,” Crystal said, picking up her pace again. “She never misses an opportunity to rope someone into helping out, if she can.”

      “Helping out with?” he prompted

      She stopped outside of a barn that was on the far side of CTC’s property. He’d noticed the building before, but because it was so distant from the hub of CTC, he’d assumed it was owned by someone else. There was a brass oval on the door with the silhouette of a horse’s head inside it and the word “Haven” spelled out in brass letters above it.

      “This is Haven,” she told him.

      He followed her inside, immediately noting that it was as clean and organized as any of the buildings at CTC if somewhat more utilitarian in design. The floor was concrete rather than cobblestone and the names of the stalls’ residents noted on white boards rather than engraved on brass plates, but the stalls were still twelve-by-twelve and filled with straw bedding.

      “Jewel started Haven for old or injured racehorses. The big money winners are well taken care by their owners, but those with less successful careers are sometimes neglected and often resented because of the high cost of their maintenance. Those unwanted animals come here until she can find them new homes.”

      A huge draft horse tossed his head over the stall door and whinnied.

      “That isn’t a thoroughbred,” he said.

      “No,” СКАЧАТЬ