Winning The Rancher's Heart. Pamela Britton

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СКАЧАТЬ an actual world champion or something, but his owners retired him a few years back and he’s been a therapy horse ever since.”

      She watched from her seat in the ATV as he walked up to the animal in question, holding out a hand, letting the horse sniff it before moving up next to his head and patting his neck.

      “Looking for a treat?” he softly asked. “You know I have them somewhere, don’t you?”

      Who was this man? she found herself wondering, watching as he fished a baby carrot out of his back pocket and then gently fed it to the horse. His whole face had changed. Gone was the stern taskmaster. In his place stood a man with soft hands and warm eyes.

      “Come here and pet him.”

      Okay, so there was the taskmaster again, but that was okay. She smiled because she’d been worried the kids would hate him. That her new boss seemed cold and distant and that he wouldn’t like her children. But for the first time she saw the man who’d spent millions of dollars on a state-of-the-art facility for wounded warriors. A nice man. A caring man. A man with a gentle spirit.

      Their gazes connected as she slowly moved up next to the horse.

      “He’s gorgeous,” she said, and she couldn’t hide her smile because it felt so good to pet one again. It’d been years, but she’d always been a horse-crazy girl. “I bet you were really something in your younger years,” she told the animal, leaning in next to his nose and inhaling the sweet animal scent that only horse lovers understood. The horse did the same thing right back, smelling her loose hair and tickling her ear and making her giggle.

      When she drew back she felt his gaze on her, her smile fading at the look on his face.

      “What?” she asked.

      He stepped away. “Nothing.”

      For some reason she felt the need to explain her reaction. “It’s been awhile since I’ve gotten to pet a horse.”

      “So you’ve been around them before?”

      “Oh my goodness, yes.” She patted the animal on the softest part of its body, its muzzle, a place that felt like velvet. “When I was younger I used to ride all the time. My mom showed horses and I did, too, up until her death when I was sixteen. My dad died at the same time. Car accident.”

      And even after all these years, it still ached like the dickens. She wasn’t all that close to her in-laws. They hadn’t approved of her being a blue blood. That’s what Trevor had called her. He must have seen the twinge of pain in her eyes because he crossed his arms and drew himself up, the softness in him fading.

      “We should get back.” Had her words upset him? “You have a lot of work to do,” he added.

      He’d gone back to the uptight, aloof business owner, and for the life of her she didn’t know why. She was the one with a sad past. First her parents and then her husband had died. Some days, it just didn’t seem fair.

      “Sure.”

      She reluctantly returned to the vehicle, gazing at the sorrel horse that watched them drive away. They headed back in silence, and Naomi wondered if she should ask him about her kids, if it’d be okay to show them around, but something made her hold back.

      “Thank you for the opportunity to work with you,” she said when he dropped her off.

      “Don’t thank me, thank my sister.” He glanced at her quickly. “I’ll expect you to start work at eight tomorrow morning. Feel free to show your kids around. You might not have time over the next few weeks.”

      He left her standing there, the tires even kicking up a little bit of gravel as he headed back to the garage on the far side of the house. Naomi watched him drive away with dread in her heart.

      What have I done? she wondered.

      And was it too late to change her mind?

       Chapter Three

      She would be here any moment now. He listened for her footfalls on the steps leading to the second floor. She had her own entrance to the house, through the kitchen, and he suspected she’d make use of it today.

      He’d given her the pass code and instructions for his alarm yesterday, although he probably should have given her some kind of schedule, too. An oversight he would soon rectify. He stared out the row of windows that stretched across the second story of his home office, not really focusing on the view.

      She still wore her ring.

      And yesterday, when they’d talked about her husband’s dog, she’d seemed lost. It had hit him hard for some reason. Maybe because she reminded him of his sister, who’d been through the same thing. There was just something...sad about her that had touched him when she’d told him about the Malinois, and then later, when she’d been petting Zippy.

      His gaze slid over the front of his property, watching for movement in the brush. Old habits die hard.

      Something stared up at him. Jax froze.

      A dog. Big dark eyes held his gaze. If not for the contrast of the dark hair against the muted gray trunk of an oak tree, he wouldn’t have seen him at all.

      “Well, I’ll be—”

      She really had seen a dog. There’d been a part of him that had wondered if she’d imagined it. Maybe confused a fawn for a canine. Or a coyote for a domestic dog.

      “Am I late?”

      He didn’t turn around. “That dog is back.” It was crazy the way the animal stared up at him, almost as if he saw him through the glass. Maybe he did.

      “Is he brown?”

      He nodded.

      “Mohawk?”

      “What?”

      “Never mind.” She came forward. “Where?”

      He pointed. “Out by that tree.”

      The smell of her body lotion or perfume or whatever wafted toward him. Vanilla and lemons.

      “We should try to catch him.”

      She sounded as Southern as Georgia peach pie. He finally looked away from the dog to peer over at her. Even in profile she was deeply and extraordinarily beautiful. She’d worn her hair loose around her shoulders, the bulk of it resting against an off-white sweater. An ambient morning glow filtered in through his windows and highlighted the paleness of her skin and the gorgeous blue of her eyes.

      “Stay here.”

      He didn’t give her time to respond; frankly, he was almost glad to leave her side. He didn’t like noticing how stunning she was. She worked for him. Her looks were something he didn’t want to dwell too deeply upon, so he stepped away from her, ducking through the entrance of his office and turning left, toward the massive stairwell that bisected the house. He’d always thought stained wood and wrought iron balustrade СКАЧАТЬ