Книга - Riding Hard

Riding Hard
Vicki Lewis Thompson


Sometimes a cowboy needs a second chance…Some mistakes can't be undone. After making the absolute worst decision of his life, horse veterinarian Drake Brewster will do whatever it takes to make amends with his best friend. And it starts with a summer at the Last Chance Ranch. But not everyone is thrilled about it…especially bartender and psych student Tracy Gibbons.Tracy sees the world in shades of right and wrong–and what Drake did was Very Definitely Wrong. Worse yet, her promise to babysit a horse sanctuary means relying on Drake. And that's where Tracy finds herself in a serious dilemma. He's the one person she can't trust, but she wants Drake something fierce…and the feeling is fiercely mutual! But if she climbs into the saddle, will she be ready for the ride?







Sometimes a cowboy needs a second chance…

Some mistakes can’t be undone. After making the absolute worst decision of his life, horse veterinarian Drake Brewster will do whatever it takes to make amends with his best friend. And it starts with a summer at the Last Chance Ranch. But not everyone is thrilled about it…especially bartender and psych student Tracy Gibbons.

Tracy sees the world in shades of right and wrong—and what Drake did was Very Definitely Wrong. Worse yet, her promise to babysit a horse sanctuary means relying on Drake. And that’s where Tracy finds herself in a serious dilemma. He’s the one person she can’t trust, but she wants Drake something fierce…and the feeling is fiercely mutual! But if she climbs into the saddle, will she be ready for the ride?







What could be hotter than a cowboy in June?

How about a cowboy in July, August

and under the mistletoe, too!

New York Times bestselling author

Vicki Lewis Thompson is back in the

Mills & Boon Blaze lineup for 2014,

and this year she’s offering her readers even more….

Sons of Chance

Chance isn’t just the last name of these rugged Wyoming cowboys—it’s their motto, too!







Dear Reader (#uf1731b6d-1af1-5b21-a288-3392868fde3a),

When the editors and I first settled on this title, I wasn’t sure that it fit the story. I’ve changed my mind. Drake Brewster might be my most troubled hero so far. He’s loaded down with guilt, and he’s very hard on himself.

Ah, but he’s a charmer, with his Rhett Butler accent and his bad-boy appeal. Those very charms are what got him into hot water, and now he’s working to regain the trust of his best friend, Regan. While doing that, he meets Tracy Gibbons, bartender and temporary house sitter for Regan and Regan’s fiancée. Tracy is not a Drake Brewster fan.

I’ll admit right up front that the folks at the Last Chance Ranch are not enamored of the guy, either. He wronged one of their own, and they’re not inclined to be friendly under those circumstances. But you have to hand it to Drake. He sticks it out because that’s the only way he’ll be able to respect himself as a man.

Welcome to midsummer in Wyoming! The weather is gorgeous, and so is Drake Brewster. Tracy thinks she can resist him, but let me tell you, I couldn’t. Come along on another Sons of Chance adventure and see if you can resist this Southern scoundrel! Betcha can’t!

Scandalously yours,

Vicki


Riding Hard

Vicki Lewis Thompson






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


ABOUT THE AUTHOR

New York Times bestselling author Vicki Lewis Thompson’s love affair with cowboys started with the Lone Ranger, continued through Maverick and took a turn south of the border with Zorro. She views cowboys as the Western version of knights in shining armor—rugged men who value honor, honesty and hard work. Fortunately for her, she lives in the Arizona desert, where broad-shouldered, lean-hipped cowboys abound. Blessed with such an abundance of inspiration, she only hopes that she can do them justice. Visit her website, www.vickilewisthompson.com (http://www.vickilewisthompson.com).


To everyone who has ever made a mistake and wronged a friend. It’s tough to go through life and not do that at least once, so I figure this dedication applies to all of us. Let’s forgive ourselves and each other for being human. Oh, and to my dad, from whom I took Psych 101. It was an eye-opener.


Contents

Dear Reader (#u42649be9-9e32-5944-a537-89c0cd95a345),

Prologue (#u1ef1cbe9-fa95-5ffb-a8fa-470f159187f1)

Chapter 1 (#u03cabe10-50a7-598f-9aec-8856918fd163)

Chapter 2 (#uc17ae6b5-9d77-5350-86bd-cea22145b22d)

Chapter 3 (#u413b66d9-6338-50c9-bfb5-ab9af759a6ab)

Chapter 4 (#u772d07e8-ee2c-5ba3-a49c-9902d83fe6d0)

Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)


Prologue

July 20, 1990

ARCHIE CHANCE WISHED he could be anywhere but here, sitting on a barstool at the Spirits and Spurs. Or, if he had to be here, he wished he hadn’t invited his son Jonathan to have a beer with him while the women went shopping at the Shoshone General Store.

The bar was mostly empty, which allowed Archie to hear two strangers at a table about ten feet behind them. Jonathan’s tight expression indicated that he could hear it, too. One of the men was reminiscing about a one-night stand he’d enjoyed in Shoshone many years ago with a woman named Diana, a woman who sounded a hell of a lot like Jonathan’s ex-wife.

Archie pushed away his half-empty beer glass. “Let’s shove off.”

Jonathan shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Look, does it really matter what—”

“Yes.”

Archie understood. In Jonathan’s shoes, he would have wanted to know, too. Diana had abandoned Jonathan and their young son, Jack, ten years ago and had severed all ties with the family. Archie wouldn’t be surprised if she’d also had affairs during their unhappy marriage.

Archie had heard enough. Way too much, in fact. The woman named Diana had mentioned being married to a surly cowboy whose family owned a big spread outside of town.

Archie sipped his beer and stared straight ahead, because he didn’t know what else to do. After what seemed like years, the two men left.

When Jonathan finally spoke, his voice was husky. “I was, you know.”

Archie turned, not sure what his son was admitting to. “You were what?”

“Surly.”

“Well, you had good reason to be, damn it. She was a difficult woman. Probably still is.” Archie wasn’t supposed to overreact to things and get his blood pressure up, but he couldn’t help it.

“She was unhappy. I had no patience with her.”

“Because you didn’t love her.” None of us did.

“I...” Jonathan picked up his glass, then put it back down. “No, I didn’t love her. I realize that now, because of Sarah. I’m still not very patient, but when she reminds me of that, I don’t get mad. I try harder. I’m lucky to have her, and I don’t want to mess up a good thing.”

Archie’s eyes grew moist. He’d developed an embarrassing tendency to get choked up over his family lately. Nelsie assured him that grandpas were allowed, but he thought it was unmanly. He cleared his throat. “You’re lucky to have each other.”

Jonathan glanced at him. “Just like you and Mom. I always wanted what you two have, and now, I have it.”

“Yep.” Aw, hell, now he was tearing up again thinking about Nelsie, the love of his life. He took a long swallow of his beer and hoped his son didn’t think he was turning into a sentimental old fool. Once he had himself under control, he looked over at Jonathan. “Hey, how about another beer? We can toast the ladies.”

That boy’s smile always could light up a room. “Great idea, Dad.”

In nothing flat, Archie went from wanting to get the hell out of the bar to wanting to stay forever. Funny how a situation that started out as a disaster could end up turning into something pretty damned wonderful, after all.


1

Present Day

DRAKE BREWSTER WAS used to women liking him, but Tracy Gibbons, the beautiful bartender at Spirits and Spurs, clearly didn’t. Oh, she was polite enough when she served him a beer, but her smile was mostly fake, as if she was forcing herself because he was a customer. He even knew why she didn’t like him, but that didn’t help much. When he thought about her reasons, he had to agree they were legitimate.

In point of fact, he wasn’t particularly popular with anyone in Shoshone, Wyoming. He was the guy who’d had sex with his best friend’s fiancée six months ago. On Christmas Eve. Apparently word had gotten out, and now everyone avoided him like a skunk at a Fourth of July picnic.

That very same best friend, Regan O’Connelli, happened to be quite popular in this neighborhood. Well connected, too. After severing his business relationship with Drake back in Virginia, as well he should have, he’d gone into partnership with Shoshone veterinarian Nick Chance. It had been a logical move since one of Regan’s sisters had married Nick’s brother Gabe, and another had married Nick’s brother-in-law Alex. Getting hooked into the Chance family opened all kinds of doors around here, apparently.

Getting crossways with the Chances, though, slammed those doors shut in a man’s face. Regan, who swore he’d forgiven Drake for the fiasco with Jeannette on that fateful Christmas Eve, said Drake should give people time. They’d come around.

Three weeks into his stay, Drake wasn’t so sure. The deep freeze was still on, except for Regan and his new fiancée, Lily King. Drake gave Lily much of the credit for Regan’s willingness to forgive and forget. She was a softhearted woman.

In fact, her soft heart had nearly been her downfall when she’d bought Peaceful Kingdom, a horse-rescue operation outside of town, and had accepted every unwanted animal dumped at her feet. Besides the horses, she’d taken in two potbellied pigs and several chickens. Regan had saved her from herself, and in the process, they’d fallen in love. She encouraged Drake to visit as often as he could, but he didn’t want to wear out his welcome. Couples in love needed alone time.

That should have fit right in with his plans. Before leaving Virginia, he’d put his vet practice in the hands of a colleague and hadn’t specified when he’d be back. Then he’d rented an isolated cabin just outside the boundary of the Last Chance Ranch so that he could make amends with Regan and take a few weeks to reevaluate his life.

He’d imagined long solo hikes and intense periods of soul-searching would help him figure out how he’d veered so off track that he’d gone to bed with his best friend’s girl. His life couldn’t be working if he could do something that disloyal, and he’d hoped for some insights.

Surprisingly, his jealousy of Regan’s self-confidence had been one of his issues. Realizing he’d set out to sabotage his friend’s sense of self-worth was an ugly truth he’d had trouble facing. But he had faced it, and consequently he and Regan were okay.

His period of self-examination had yielded another nugget of wisdom. He wasn’t into long solo hikes and intense periods of soul-searching. He was a sociable type, a Southerner who loved to talk, and he craved the company of others. But except for Regan and Lily, nobody within a thirty-mile radius craved his company, and that sucked.

Yet here he was, anyway, sitting on a barstool at the Spirits and Spurs during happy hour trying not to look as lonely as he felt. A few people had said hello, but then they’d gone back to talking to whomever they’d come with. Nobody seemed interested in a prolonged encounter with the guy who’d wronged Regan O’Connelli.

Tracy made a circuit of the bar area, her dark hair shining, her red lipstick glossy and inviting. She glanced at his nearly empty glass. “Another round?”

Drake considered giving up and going back to the cabin but couldn’t make himself do it. “Sure. Thanks.”

“Coming up.” That fake smile flashed again.

He watched her walk away. She had the perfect figure for jeans, and he’d noticed other guys checking out her ass. But someone with his hound-dog reputation couldn’t be caught doing it, so instead he studied her hair. It was up in some arrangement that kept it out of the way, but he pictured how it would look loose. It might reach halfway down her back, at least, and sway as she moved. Nice.

He didn’t want her to see him staring like some wet-behind-the-ears doofus, so he grabbed the menu out of its holder. Then he proceeded to scan the offerings as if fascinated by what he’d found, although he knew them by heart.

“Here you go.”

He glanced up, as if he hadn’t noticed her coming toward him. “Thank you, ma’am.” The beer foam was perfectly symmetrical. He raised the glass and admired it. “Very pretty.” He meant the compliment for her, but he could always claim he’d been talking about the head on his beer.

“Thanks.” She didn’t quite roll her eyes, but she looked as if she wanted to. She gestured toward the menu. “Would you like something to eat?”

He wasn’t hungry, but picking up a menu was a classic signal and there wasn’t much in the refrigerator at the cabin. “I would, indeed. What do you recommend?”

She paused, confusion shadowing her brown eyes. “Don’t you want your usual burger and fries?”

“I find myself wantin’ something different.” That she’d noticed his ordering pattern meant nothing, of course. Any good server would do that. But it pleased him, anyway.

“Well, then...you might try the barbecued-pork sandwich. Lots of people like that.”

“Do you like it?”

She hesitated, as if not wanting to give him personal information. “I’m partial to the burgers here,” she said at last.

“So am I. I’ll stick with my usual, after all.”

“Okay. I’ll put in the order.” She started to turn away.

“Tracy?”

When she looked back at him, her expression was guarded. “What?”

He tried to remember if he’d ever used her name, although he’d known it for days. Maybe not. Southerners tended to use ma’am most of the time. He took a deep breath, finally ready to tackle this situation head-on. “I’ve been coming in here quite a bit lately.”

“Yes, you have.” She didn’t seem particularly happy about it, either.

“And you’re always polite to me.”

“I certainly hope so. If I’m not nice to the customers, I would probably get fired.”

“I appreciate that, but I’ll bet there are some customers you look forward to serving and some you don’t.”

Her gaze became shuttered. “I’m grateful for any and all customers who come through the door. Without customers, Spirits and Spurs wouldn’t be in business.”

“Nice speech. I admire your dedication. But the fact remains that you don’t like me.”

She opened her mouth as if to reply. Then she closed it again.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to complain to anyone about it.” He sighed. “Hell, you’re in the majority around here when it comes to holdin’ a bad opinion of me. But nobody will say it to my face. They’re unfailingly polite and then they act like I have a contagious disease.”

“I’m Regan’s friend.” Her gaze turned very cold. “I’m also friends with his sisters. If you think my attitude is chilly, you should try having a conversation with Morgan, Tyler or Cassidy.”

“Yeah, I figured that wouldn’t work out, so I haven’t tried.”

“I know everything’s supposed to be hunky-dory between you and Regan. Lily told me all is well, but she’s the kind of person who would make excuses for a serial killer.”

“A serial killer? Isn’t that a bit harsh?”

“I know you haven’t actually killed anyone, but you betrayed your best friend.” Anger kindled in her brown eyes. “If you ask me, Regan’s letting you off way too easy.” Then she blushed and glanced away. “Sorry. I get a little worked up when I talk about this. It’s really none of my business.”

He thought she was mighty pretty when she was worked up, but he wisely didn’t say so. “I get the impression that it’s everybody’s business around here.”

She didn’t deny it, probably because she couldn’t. When she looked at him again, her gaze was disconcertingly direct. “Why stay, then? You patched things up with Regan, so why not go back to Virginia where...where you’re from.”

Where you belong. Although she didn’t say the words, they hung in the air. Except he didn’t belong in Virginia anymore. He couldn’t explain why, but the thought of returning to his old life made him shudder. Whoever he’d been back there wasn’t the man he wanted to be here and now. The location might have nothing to do with it, but he wasn’t going to take the chance that he’d fall into his old patterns.

He shrugged. “I must be a glutton for punishment.”

Something shifted in her expression. It became more open, and unless he was mistaken, she seemed genuinely interested in him for the first time ever. “I see.”

“What do you see?”

“That you’re doing some kind of penance.”

“I wouldn’t put it that way.” The assessment made him uncomfortable. He wasn’t a masochist or a martyr.

“You just called yourself a glutton for punishment.”

“That’s an expression, something folks say. It doesn’t mean that I—”

“Hey, Drake!”

Intensely grateful for the interruption, he swiveled to face Regan, who came toward him looking like the seasoned cowboy he’d become, complete with boots, worn jeans and a ten-gallon hat. Drake had bought some boots and a couple of pairs of jeans that still looked new. He was holding off buying a hat. He couldn’t say why.

He held out a hand to Regan. “Hey, buddy! What’s up?”

“Not much.” Regan shook hands, but the dark eyes he’d inherited from his Italian mother moved quickly from Drake to Tracy. “Am I interrupting?”

“Nope!” Tracy waved her order pad. “I have to put in Drake’s food order and check on my other customers. Can I bring you something?”

“I’ll take a draft when you have a minute. I actually came in to see you, but I wanted to ask Drake a favor, too, so this is perfect.”

“All righty, then. I’ll be back.” She hurried toward the kitchen.

Regan slid onto a barstool on Drake’s right. “Did I interrupt something? You both looked mighty serious.”

“Not really. I made a dumb remark and she picked up on it.”

“What’d you say?”

“She wondered why I’m stayin’ here when nobody likes me, and I—”

“Hang on.” Regan shoved back the brim of his Stetson. “She actually said that nobody likes you? That doesn’t sound like Tracy.”

“Actually I’m the one who said that, but she didn’t disagree with me. You have to admit I’m not the toast of Shoshone, Wyoming.”

“Maybe not yet.”

“Maybe not ever. You have loyal friends who don’t forgive easily. I understand that. Tracy asked a logical question, and I gave her a flip answer.”

“Like what?”

“I said maybe I was a glutton for punishment.”

“Oh, boy.” Regan chuckled. “I’ll bet that got her attention.”

“It did, but why are you so sure it would?”

“She’s studying to be a psychologist, but don’t mention that I told you.”

“Why? What’s the big secret?”

“It’s not actually a secret. As you’ve discovered, gossip is a favorite pastime in this little town.”

Drake pretended to be shocked. “Really?”

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, people kind of know because she keeps her books behind the bar and studies when it’s not busy in here. But she’s not ready to announce it to the world. I think she’s worried that she doesn’t have the intellectual chops to pull it off.”

“You’re kidding.” Drake thought of her efficiency and the intelligence shining in those brown eyes. “She’s smart as a whip. Anyone can see that.”

“Yeah, but nobody in her family has ever set foot on a college campus. She’s only taken online classes so far, and she probably doesn’t want to make a big deal out of this and then fail.”

“She won’t fail.”

Regan smiled. “Spoken like a man who always knew he’d end up with a degree and a profession. She doesn’t have that kind of background, and she has doubts.”

“Well, she shouldn’t, but I see your point.” He paused. “Wait, are you saying she was trying to psychoanalyze me? That’s all I need.”

“At least it would be free.”

Drake skewered his friend with a look and discovered Regan was working hard not to laugh. “It’s not funny, damn it. I might need a shrink, but I sure as hell don’t need a shrink in training. I’m messed up enough without accidentally gettin’ the wrong advice.”

“I wouldn’t discount Tracy’s insights. She’s spent a lot of hours behind this bar, and she has a knack for reading people. She can’t officially hang out a shingle until she graduates and gets licensed, but she has excellent instincts.”

“Mmm.” Drake didn’t like this discussion any more than the one he’d been having with Tracy. He took another swig of beer.

“Look, you told me you wanted to get your head on straight while you’re here. You could do worse than talk things over with Tracy.”

“I beg to differ.” Drake sighed. “Besides, aren’t psychologists supposed to be nonjudgmental?”

“Yeah, I suppose so.”

“Then Tracy didn’t get the memo. She believes what I did was heinous and she’s not cuttin’ me any slack. I hardly think she’s the person to help me.”

“Okay, maybe not. I’m not sure why, but I know infidelity is a hot button for her.”

Drake winced as he always did when that word came up. He’d willingly participated in an act of infidelity. Even though liquor had been involved, which created some sort of lame excuse, the sharpness of what he’d done couldn’t be filed down, and it still cut deep.

“So I guess it’s not such a good idea,” Regan said. “Forget I mentioned it.”

“I surely will. Besides, there’s another factor that makes the idea a nonstarter.”

“What?”

“I think she’s hot.”

“Oh.” Regan’s glance slid past Drake and focused on a spot over his shoulder. “Here she comes. I’d advise you to keep that information to yourself.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not about to make myself vulnerable to a woman who thinks I’m pond scum.”

“She doesn’t think that.”

“I’ll guarantee she does.” Drake swiveled his stool back around and smiled at Tracy.

Her mouth responded with an obligatory upward tilt, but the rest of her face was devoid of emotion. Then she looked at Regan, and everything changed. “Here’s your beer and some peanuts in case you get the munchies.” She’d never offered Drake peanuts.

“Thanks.” Regan pushed the bowl toward Drake. “Want some?”

“Don’t mind if I do.” He’d show Tracy that he wasn’t too proud to eat Regan’s free peanuts.

Tracy lingered in front of Regan. “Can I get you anything else?”

“Nope, this is great. But I have a big favor to ask.”

“What’s that?”

“Nick’s going to a conference in Washington, D.C. next week and he’s taking Dominique because she’s never been to the Capitol. At the last minute he asked if Lily and I wanted to come along. The women can pal around and sightsee while we’re in meetings. I wondered if you’d be willing to house-sit again while we’re gone.”

“Of course! I’ll have to make sure my hours here will mesh with feeding the critters, but that shouldn’t be a problem. I can trade off with somebody if necessary.”

Drake was flabbergasted. And more than a little hurt. A couple of weeks ago Regan and Lily had taken a two-day vacation and had asked Tracy to house-sit. When Drake found out, he’d told them to ask him next time.

He was a vet, for crying out loud, so he could easily deal with the animals. He also had zip going on. Instead Regan had asked a busy person who already had a full-time job and was studying to become a psychologist.

“Great!” Regan gave Tracy a big old smile. “Same deal as before. Don’t accept any new animals.”

“I won’t.”

“And because we’ll be gone for so long, I’ve arranged for a vet in Jackson to take the routine calls at the office and help you out if you need it. But I’m hoping Drake will consider stepping in if there’s an emergency.” He glanced over at Drake. “Would you be able to do that, just until the guy from Jackson can get down here?”

“Uh, sure. Be glad to.” He could have handled everything, if Regan had bothered to ask.

“Thanks. I really appreciate it. I keep most of my supplies in my truck, and it’ll be parked beside the house. Tracy, if you have any problems at all, call Drake. He’s an excellent vet.”

Drake had been so busy having his feelings hurt that he hadn’t seen that coming. Tracy hadn’t either, judging from the way her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open.

“You’ll need my number, then.” He enjoyed saying it, even if she didn’t enjoy hearing it.

“Uh, yeah, I guess I will. But I’m sure nothing will happen.”

“Probably not, but just in case, you’d better take it. Call or text anytime.”

“Right.” She scribbled the number he gave her on her order pad.

“Then we’re all set.” Regan beamed at them. “We might stay a couple of extra days, if that’s okay with you two.”

You two. Drake was amused by the way Regan had neatly linked them up. Tracy probably hated it. “I’m fine with y’all staying longer,” he said. “How about you, Tracy?”

“Uh, sure. Just let me know in advance so I can adjust my hours. Listen, I’d better get back to my customers. Drake’s burger and fries should be up by now, too.” She quickly made her escape.

Drake wasn’t ready to let the issue go. “I could have handled all of it,” he said in a low voice. “I believe I told you that the last time you asked her.”

“I know, and I was keeping you in reserve if she had other plans. But she said yes, probably because she needs the money for school. I figured she did.”

“Oh, you’re paying her.” Drake felt better. “I didn’t realize that.”

“We’re absolutely paying her. We paid her last time, too. There’s a lot of work involved. I wouldn’t expect anyone to do it for free.”

“I would’ve.”

“And that’s one of the reasons I didn’t want to ask you. I knew you wouldn’t take any money for it, and Tracy will.” Regan studied him. “You do realize that I’m not mad at you anymore, right?”

“Yeah, I do.” His chuckle sounded hollow. “Sadly, I’m still riddled with guilt.”

“Well, hell, dude. Get over it.” Regan tossed a peanut in his mouth.

“Believe me, I’m trying. Taking care of your place for free while y’all are gone would’ve helped, but I get why you asked Tracy. I wouldn’t want to deprive her of a chance to earn extra money.”

“And I hoped you’d be her backup if she has any issues. Legally I can’t pay you since you’re not licensed in Wyoming, but I know you don’t care about the money.”

“Nope. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll keep an eye on the medical side of things, but you do realize Tracy hates the thought of having to call on me.”

“She won’t hate it if one of the horses gets sick. Everything went fine last time, but we were only a couple of hours away if she’d needed us. Frankly, I wouldn’t have agreed to a cross-country trip if I couldn’t count on you in the event of a problem.”

“I’ll surely do that. But now I wish I hadn’t told you that I think she’s hot.”

“Why?”

Drake looked away. “Because I don’t want you to think I’ll take this as a golden opportunity.”

“Good God. You are not only riddled with guilt, you’re drowning in it. You and Tracy are consenting adults. I like you both. What happens between you has nothing to do with me unless you scare the horses.”

Drake glanced over to find Regan grinning. “I promise not to do that.”

“Then everything else is up for grabs.”

Drake didn’t think so. Tracy had a poor opinion of him, and it would take a miracle to change her mind.


2

AS THE NOONDAY sun beat down on her, Tracy stared at the pregnant Appaloosa that the sad-looking cowboy had insisted on unloading despite Tracy’s protests. She was a striking mare with a Dalmatian-like coat. Her mane and tail mixed strands of black and white into a soft gray. Tracy instantly wanted to take in this lovely creature.

But her instructions from Regan and Lily had been crystal clear. Just like the first time she house-sat for them, she wasn’t supposed to accept any animals while they were gone. “I’m sorry.” She kept her tone friendly but firm. “I’m not authorized to admit any animals this week. Perhaps you’d like to come back at the end of the month when the owners are here.”

“Can’t wait that long, ma’am. I can’t feed her no more. I’ve run through the money I got from selling my stud and I can’t find work.” The man could have been anywhere from thirty to fifty years old, but he’d obviously lived a hard life judging from his weathered skin and resigned expression.

“I wish I could help, but—”

“I came this close to selling Dottie to a guy in Jackson, but he wouldn’t have treated her right. I’m beggin’ you to take her.”

“If she’s valuable, and I can see that she probably is, surely you can find someone you trust who would buy her.”

“No time. Got an eviction notice for the place I rent yesterday. I’m out of feed for Dottie and out of options. I heard about this rescue operation and figured it was my last hope to put her somewheres she’d be looked after.”

Tracy heard the desperation in his voice. This wasn’t some jerk who’d grown tired of his responsibility. The man genuinely loved his mare and was terrified something bad would happen to her because he’d lost the ability to provide for her.

Last time Tracy had taken care of Peaceful Kingdom, all twelve of the barn’s stalls had been occupied. But Regan and Lily had worked hard to adopt out the young and healthy horses. Six of the residents were so old and feeble they’d live at Peaceful Kingdom forever. Two others needed to learn some manners before they’d be ready to go. Four stalls stood empty.

It wasn’t her place to fill even one of them. She’d be acting against orders if she did. But this situation tugged at her heart. She met the cowboy’s gaze and made her decision. “I’ll take her.”

His shoulders dropped and his eyes grew suspiciously moist. “Thank you, ma’am. Thank you.”

His gruff tone choked her up a little, too. “Let me get the form for you to fill out.” She hurried back to the house and returned in a flash with a clipboard, an intake form and a pen before doubts could change her mind. She held them out to him. “We need some information for our records.” Regan and Lily would understand. They had to.

If possible, he looked even more miserable. “Sorry, ma’am. I can’t.”

For a split second she thought he was refusing to fill out the form, but then she realized he was illiterate on top of his other problems. “No worries. I’ll do it. Just tell me what to write.”

The man’s name was Jerry Rankin. He’d bought Dottie as a foal ten years ago, when times were good for him. Once Tracy started asking questions, Jerry offered all sorts of details that weren’t on the form.

When he’d been blessed with steady work, he’d bought an Appaloosa stallion with plans to start a breeding operation. His wife had handled the paperwork, and all had gone well. They’d bred the horses and sold three foals. But then his wife had died after an illness that ate up their savings, and he’d lost his job.

When Tracy finished filling out the form, she glanced up. “Can you sign your name?”

“My wife taught me that much.” He took the clipboard and pen and painstakingly wrote his name in awkward block letters.

“Thank you, Mr. Rankin.”

“Jerry’s good enough.”

“Jerry, then.”

“I surely do appreciate this.” He handed over the lead rope, but the mare stayed right by his side. Then he dug in the pocket of his worn jeans. “I ain’t got nothin’ but change, but I’ll give you what I—”

“No, no. That’s okay. You keep it.” She felt like offering him money, instead. “I don’t know if you’ve checked into this, but the county has programs if you find yourself...a little short.”

He nodded. “I know. I might consider that.” He returned the coins to his pocket. “Much obliged to you for taking Dottie. That’s a load off my mind.”

“You’re welcome.”

“She’s a good horse.”

“I’m sure she is.”

He stroked the Appaloosa’s nose. “You be a good girl for the lady, you hear?”

The mare turned her head and nudged his chest.

“I know. I’ll miss you, too. It’s for the best.”

Tracy swallowed a lump in her throat. “Mr. Rankin...Jerry, she’ll be right here. If things should start looking up for you, you can come and get her.”

He touched the brim of his battered cowboy hat. “That’s right nice of you, ma’am.” His voice grew husky. “I’ll...I’ll keep it in mind.” He stroked Dottie’s nose once more and started for his truck.

“We’ll take good care of her,” Tracy called after him.

He didn’t respond other than to give a brief nod.

The mare turned her head to gaze after him. Then she nickered.

Tracy feared she might start bawling. Apparently she wasn’t cut out for this kind of work. She hoped that dealing with people problems turned out to be less emotionally difficult than dealing with animal problems. Otherwise she wouldn’t be a very effective psychologist.

Dottie nickered again as the truck and trailer pulled through the gate.

“Come on, girl.” Tracy rubbed the mare’s silky neck. “Time for a cozy stall and some oats. I’ll bet you haven’t had any of those in a while.” She exerted firm pressure on the lead rope and Dottie followed her obediently to the barn, proving that she was, as Jerry had said, a good horse. Tracy settled her into an empty stall at the far end of the barn and gave her the promised bucket of oats. The mare ate them greedily.

“Okay, this was a good decision...I guess.” Tracy leaned on the stall door and watched the mare. She was a good-looking horse, the color of rich cream with a rump speckled in black.

“The thing is, Dottie, I know nothing about prenatal care, and I’ll bet you could use a few vitamins and minerals.” Gazing at the horse’s extended belly, she realized she didn’t know how far along the mare was. It hadn’t been on the form, but she should have thought to ask, anyway.

She considered her options. She could call the vet in Jackson, who would charge a pretty penny to evaluate the mare and prescribe vitamins. She’d been instructed not to accept any animals, so adding an expensive vet visit seemed wrong when she could get the same services for free. All she had to do was call Drake Brewster.

Yeah, right. So easy. Just call up Mr. Gorgeous-But-Untrustworthy and ask him to give his professional opinion on the pregnant mare she’d just taken in against Regan and Lily’s specific instructions. She wondered if Drake would mention that she’d overstepped. Probably not, considering his history. Talk about overstepping. He’d written the book on it.

Still, she knew Regan and Lily would want her to call Drake instead of the vet in Jackson. No question about that. If she phoned Drake, he’d come right over. The guy didn’t seem to have a full schedule. And he’d be very nice. Charming, even. Of course he was charming or he wouldn’t have been able to talk Regan’s fiancée into going to bed with him.

At least, Tracy assumed that’s how it had gone. She couldn’t imagine a woman cheating on Regan unless she’d had too much to drink and had been wooed by a master of seduction like Drake Brewster. Tracy was outraged by what he’d done. She was disapproving, scandalized and...so embarrassing to admit, titillated.

Face it, the man was breathtaking. She’d heard his disreputable story before he’d ever walked into Spirits and Spurs. Everybody in town had, and they were all ready to give Drake the cold shoulder and condemn Regan’s fiancée in absentia. But when Drake finally did come into the bar, Tracy forgave Regan’s fiancée immediately.

Not many women would be able to resist a full-court press by someone who looked like that. Those sleepy green eyes and a smile full of equal parts mischief and sin would make short work of any girl’s virtuous resolve. Pair those attributes with broad shoulders, slim hips and coffee-colored hair with a slight tendency to curl, and you had the promise of intense pleasure wrapped up in one yummy serving of manhood.

She certainly didn’t want to be attracted to him. God, no! Too bad. She was, anyway. Her line of defense had been a cool, distant manner. Apparently it had worked, because he thought she didn’t like him. Actually, he was right about that. She didn’t like him, or more precisely, she didn’t like the kind of person who would betray his best friend.

Yet whenever Drake came within five feet of her, she tingled. At the three-foot mark, she burned. She’d made sure he never got any closer than that, because she didn’t want to find out what would happen. She was afraid she’d turn into a hypocrite.

So calling him about the mare presented a problem. She’d have to keep her distance when he showed up. No one would ever need to know about her inconvenient case of lust. She’d taken in the pregnant mare, and consequently she had to do the next logical thing and summon Drake.

Pulling her phone from her pocket, she located his number. Her pulse accelerated at the thought of talking to him. That was the other thing about Drake. He had a voice like aged bourbon, complete with the soft drawl of a man born and raised in Virginia. It was a bedroom voice if she’d ever heard one. He sounded like effing Rhett Butler.

He answered quickly. “Hey there, Miss Tracy. Problems?”

She hadn’t counted on the effect of his voice murmuring in her ear, and she felt chills down her spine. She brought the phone to waist level and punched the speaker button. “Not a problem, exactly. I took in a pregnant mare today.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I couldn’t turn her away. The guy is down to his last dime, but he refused to sell her to someone he thought might mistreat her. He chose to bring her here instead of taking the money, which he obviously needs. He’s being evicted and he has no job.”

“Did you give him a job?”

His compassionate suggestion impressed her. “No, but that’s a fabulous idea. Obviously I can’t hire him, but Regan and Lily might. That’s assuming we can find him again. We have no permanent address or phone number. Just a name.”

“In a place where everybody seems to know everybody, that should be enough. How far along is the mare?”

“I didn’t think to ask. But I assume she needs special care, and I didn’t want to bring the vet down from Jackson and incur extra expense.” She paused to see if he’d volunteer his services.

“She might be fine for a week or so.”

Damn him, he was going to make her ask. “She might, but I would feel terrible if she or the foal had issues because I didn’t give her what she needs. Besides, it would be nice to know her approximate due date.”

“True, but Regan can figure that out when he gets home.”

Tracy’s frustration grew. “What if she’s ready to pop?”

His laugh was like warm maple syrup. “Is that your roundabout way of inviting me over to take a look?”

“I’d appreciate it if you’d come and examine her.” She injected as much formality into the statement as she could muster.

“I’ll be right there.”

Her stupid adrenaline level spiked. “Thank you. Bye.” She disconnected quickly. Brisk and efficient. That was the key. Somehow she’d continue to strike that note.

Now that he was on his way, she was suddenly concerned about how she looked. She’d showered this morning, but she hadn’t bothered with makeup and her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail. Whenever Drake had seen her at Spirits and Spurs she’d been wearing makeup and a cute hair arrangement. To her secret shame, she’d spent more time on her appearance since he’d started coming into the bar.

How sick was that? She didn’t really want to attract his attention. Well, apparently she did, and now he’d arrive and discover what she looked like au naturel. That was a good thing. No matter how much she longed to race into the house and slap on some lipstick, she would not.

Instead she picked up a brush and went to work on Dottie’s speckled coat. To Jerry Rankin’s credit, Dottie didn’t look as if she needed to be brushed, but Tracy did it, anyway. Then she combed out the black-and-white mane and tail, all the while talking to the mare and telling her what a beautiful baby she would have.

Dottie stood quietly and seemed to enjoy the attention, but she’d maneuvered herself so that she could look out the stall door as if watching for Jerry to return. At one point she moved her head to gaze at Tracy as if trying to decide why this strange person had replaced her old buddy.

“He would have kept you if he could,” Tracy said. “Bringing you here was an act of love. He didn’t want you to fall into bad hands, or to suffer because he wasn’t able to take care of you properly.”

The explanation seemed to help. Dottie heaved a big horsey sigh and lowered her head to nibble on the straw scattered at her feet.

Tracy wondered if the mare was still hungry. After all, she was eating for two. What Tracy knew about such things would fit inside a bottle cap. She really did need Drake’s advice.

As if her thoughts had conjured him up, she heard him enter the barn, his boot heels clicking on the wooden floor. She hurried over to the stall door and glanced quickly down the aisle. Sunlight streamed into the barn, outlining his manly physique in gold. He’d taken to wearing Western clothes recently, and they suited him. Boy, did they ever suit him.

She needed to gather her wits, so she didn’t call out to him. Hoping he hadn’t noticed her, she went back to brushing Dottie. For someone who had vowed to remain cool and distant, she sure had a lot of heat pouring through her veins. She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Tracy? Are you in here?” His rich voice echoed in the rafters.

“Down here, last stall on the left.” Damn, but her hands were shaking. This was not good.

“Thanks. I tried the house, but you didn’t answer the door.” His footsteps came closer. “My eyes aren’t quite adjusted to the light.”

She glanced up, and there he was, six-foot-something of testosterone-fueled male. His Western shirt emphasized the breadth of his shoulders. He wasn’t wearing a cowboy hat, and she didn’t think she’d ever seen him wearing one. She wondered about that. Most cowboy wannabes couldn’t wait to show up in a hat.

When he opened the stall door, she realized her mistake. Jumpiness aside, she should have walked out to meet him. Then she could have let him go in the stall alone. Instead he was about to come in with her.

Unless she engineered a little do-si-do with him and then made her escape looking like a frightened rabbit, she was stuck here. Her three-foot limit was about to be violated, and she didn’t know what to do about it.

He caught sight of the mare and let out a low whistle. “She’s a beauty.”

“I know.” Her plan of maintaining a formal distance crumbled. She’d been through an emotional experience and she needed to talk about Jerry and his willingness to sacrifice for Dottie. “I’ll bet he could have sold her, but he couldn’t find the right buyer in time. I was touched by the fact he was choosy when he couldn’t afford to be.”

“Yeah, that’s damned noble.” He entered the stall and smiled at her. “For the record, I’m glad you followed your instincts and took her. Those instructions didn’t anticipate a mare like this showing up.”

Five feet, still just the tingle. “I’m sure she was the one bright spot in the guy’s life. I hope Regan and Lily are ready to take on some help and that we can find him again if they are.”

“I’d say there’s an excellent chance that will work out.”

“Then I’ll think positive, too.” Three feet, starting to burn.

“What’s her name?”

“Dottie.” She sounded breathless, but maybe he’d think she had allergies. She backed up a foot and hoped the move wasn’t too obvious.

Drake laughed. “Appropriate. Hi, Dottie.” He held out a hand, palm up. She saw he was holding a peeled baby carrot.

The mare snuffled against his open palm and took the carrot. She crunched it between her strong teeth as Drake ran his hands over her neck, her shoulders and her distended belly.

God help her, Tracy followed the path of that gentle stroking. After all the promises to herself that she’d ignore his considerable sex appeal, she couldn’t help imagining how those hands would feel caressing a woman. No, not just a woman. Her.

She wanted to feel the magic of those hands. And they would be magic. Watching him with the horse was evidence of that. She longed to experience that lazy, sensual touch....

No, she didn’t! What was wrong with her? She was falling under his spell. He probably didn’t even realize he was casting one. Sensuality was instinctive with him, it seemed. He was surrounded by an invisible magnetic field, and just like that, she’d been drawn back into the three-foot zone.

“A more thorough exam would tell us for sure.” Drake continued to stroke the horse. Typical female, Dottie was eating it up. “But from a preliminary evaluation, I’d say she’s less than a month from delivering.” He glanced over his shoulder at Tracy. “You weren’t far off. She’s almost ready to pop.”

“Good grief.” She placed a hand over her racing heart, which now had two reasons to be out of control—lust and terror. “I don’t want that happening on my watch.”

“You probably won’t have to deal with it.” His voice was soothing.

She wondered if veterinarians cultivated a bedside manner. If so, Drake had a hell of a good one. “But I might have to deal with it, right?”

“Mothers about to give birth are always unpredictable. But don’t worry. I can drive out here at a moment’s notice. If she goes into labor, you won’t have to handle it alone.”

“Good.” The rush of gratitude, mixed with the sensual feelings he inspired, became a potent combination. She struggled to remember why she didn’t like this man. Oh, yes. He’d betrayed his best friend. No matter how welcome his presence was at the moment, he’d chosen to trade years of friendship for immediate pleasure.

“She’ll need some prenatal supplements.”

Tracy fought to concentrate on what he was saying instead of imagining him naked in her bed. “Supplements. Right.”

“I’ll order them from a company I have an account with. My professional discount will keep the cost down.”

“Good. Thank you. I honestly didn’t consider all the ramifications of this. Assuming her foal is okay, and I hope to heck it is, I’ve actually accepted two horses.”

“True.” He lightly scratched Dottie’s neck, and her eyelids drifted down in obvious ecstasy. Lucky horse. “But I don’t think you have to worry about Regan and Lily. They’ll support what you’ve done.”

“I hope so.” But she wasn’t terribly worried about Regan and Lily. They were animal lovers and would understand. The foal might even be fun for them.

But she was extremely worried about the inevitable contact with Drake and her increasingly intense reaction to his proximity. She had strong principles. Surely a sweet-talking Southerner wouldn’t cause her to abandon those principles. Surely not.


3

DRAKE WAS PROUD of himself. He’d examined the mare and interacted with Tracy as if he had no interest in her whatsoever. Then he’d left after promising to order the supplements online the minute he got back to his cabin and his computer.

Driving home, he congratulated himself on being a perfect gentleman the whole time. Not once had he given in to the temptation to flirt with her. For him that was a major victory. Regan clearly thought that he would hit on Tracy if given the chance, and he was determined to prove that he could resist that urge.

It hadn’t been easy. Before today, they’d always been separated by a massive wooden bar and surrounded by other people. This had been a far more intimate encounter, and she’d looked quite accessible in her T-shirt and jeans, no makeup, and her hair held by a little elastic thing that could be pulled off in no time.

At the bar he’d experienced a jolt of desire whenever he looked at her lipstick-covered mouth. She liked to wear red, and those lips had beckoned him, even when he’d known her smile meant nothing. Logically he shouldn’t have been even more turned on by the soft pink of her bare mouth, but he had been. Seeing her like that made him think of how she’d look first thing in the morning. He yearned for the privilege of waking up next to Tracy Gibbons.

He yearned for what would precede that moment, too. He was a fair judge of women. Make that an excellent judge of women. Tracy had a lot of passion buried in her.

And here was the kicker. She was as hot for him as he was for her. During his visits to the Spirits and Spurs, she’d fooled him with her remote attitude and obvious disapproval. He thought she still disapproved of him. But underneath, lust burned.

He’d felt that energy the second he’d walked into the stall. He’d heard it in the pattern of her breathing. A week ago he would have attributed the undercurrent of tension to anger. Today, in the quiet confines of Dottie’s stall, he’d recognized it for what it was—suppressed desire. She wanted him, and she was fighting it for all she was worth.

The man he used to be would have capitalized on the situation. He could have made love to her today. She was ripe for it. One touch would have tipped the balance in his favor, and the sex would have been glorious. She would have temporarily reveled in the unexpected encounter, the thrill of tasting forbidden fruit.

But afterward...ah, that was the problem. She would be ashamed of herself for surrendering to urges that violated her principles. Pleasure would quickly become tainted. And then, if the sex had been so good that she still wanted him, despite everything, she’d begin to hate herself and him. He knew all about that downward spiral. He’d put Jeannette through it. He’d put himself through it.

As he pulled up in front of the little cabin he temporarily called home, he vowed that he would not subject Tracy to the same fate as Jeannette. If that meant they’d never explore the possibilities presented by their strong chemistry...oh, well.

He’d been celibate for months, and he was almost getting used to it. He and Jeannette had tried to create a relationship after Regan had left, tried to convince each other that their betrayal of Regan had been motivated by a grand passion they couldn’t deny. The fantasy hadn’t held up for very long, and since breaking off with Jeannette, he hadn’t felt like getting involved with anyone.

Parking his dusty black SUV, he went inside the cabin and turned on his laptop. He ordered the supplements to be shipped to the rescue facility and texted instructions to Tracy’s cell so she’d know how and when to administer them. And that, he thought, should be the end of that.

He could have done more. A rectal and vaginal exam would have been normal procedure, but the mare appeared healthy and Regan would be back in charge in a week. Drake had enjoyed the chance to be a vet again, even briefly, and that surprised him. Lately he’d wondered if he needed to change careers as well as his place of residence, but maybe not.

Considering the delicate situation with Tracy, though, he would perform only basic care unless a problem cropped up. Tracy was a smart lady. If she needed help, she’d call. If she didn’t, then they could avoid contact with each other, contact that might lead to actions they’d both regret.

As he decided whether to go on a hike or read a book, neither of which appealed to him, someone knocked on his front door. Although he was glad for an interruption in what promised to be a boring afternoon, he couldn’t imagine who had come to visit. No one sought him out besides Regan, and he was in Washington.

Drake opened the door and discovered Josie Chance there. He tried not to look as astonished as he felt. Thanks to Regan making a few introductions after he and Drake had rescued their friendship, Drake recognized the attractive woman wearing her long blond hair in a braid down her back.

A few years ago she’d married Jack Chance, the oldest of the Chance brothers and their avowed leader. But that wasn’t the most significant fact about Josie Chance. She happened to own the Spirits and Spurs, which made her Tracy’s boss. Drake suspected that Tracy was the reason behind Josie’s visit.

Josie didn’t disappoint him. “This isn’t exactly a social call, Drake. I’m here to talk about Tracy.”

“Be glad to.” He wasn’t, but he’d been raised to say the polite thing. “Come on in.”

She walked through the door and glanced around the small space furnished with a sturdy sofa and chair covered in green plaid. “Very nice.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He wasn’t sure what she meant, but agreeing with her seemed like a good strategy.

She gave him a small, almost reluctant smile. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be a typical bachelor living in chaos.”

“Because that’s what scoundrels do?”

Her smile widened. “Often, yes.”

“I did live in chaos for a little while, but when the maid didn’t show up I decided I might as well keep it clean myself before I started losing things in the mess I’d made. Please, have a seat. I can brew some coffee, and I also have iced tea in the refrigerator.”

“Sweet tea?”

“No, ma’am. I know it’s not very Southern of me, but I like mine plain.”

“I’ll have some, then. Thank you.” She sat in the easy chair. “Tracy would kill me if she knew I’d come over here.”

Drake took a couple of tall glasses out of the cupboard and filled them with ice. “I won’t tell her, but good luck keeping a secret around here.”

“You’re right, but I’m going to attempt it. Jack’s the only one who knows I rode over, because I needed someone who could watch little Archie without throwing a hissy-fit about me coming. Three of my potential babysitters are Regan’s sisters, and they would not approve.”

“I’m sure.” He poured tea in both glasses. “Wait a minute. You rode over here from the Last Chance?”

“It’s closer to go cross-country, and doing that made it less likely I’d be seen. My horse is out back, tied to a tree.”

“I’ll be damned.” He walked over and handed her one of the glasses before sitting on the sofa with his own drink. “You’ve infiltrated enemy territory.”

“Something like that.” She took a swallow of her tea. “This is excellent. Thanks.”

“It’s one of the few things I know how to make.” He settled back, his glass balanced on one knee. “So you’re here on a secret mission to make sure the big bad wolf doesn’t have designs on the fair maiden Tracy?”

“That about sums it up.” She studied him. “You’re charming. I assumed you would be.”

“Back in Virginia, it’s the law. Anyone who fails the Southern-charm test is shipped up north.”

“Oh, boy.” Josie sipped her tea. “This could be trickier than I thought.”

“It won’t be tricky.” Drake met her gaze. “I’ve already thought this through. I’ll admit that I find Tracy very attractive, but I—”

“I knew it. Unfortunately, she’s fascinated with you, too. You should hear the way she carries on about your dastardly behavior, to the point where I finally realized she was into you.”

If having that confirmed thrilled him, he didn’t want to let on. “But she doesn’t want to be.”

“Exactly. Do you know why?”

“Sure. Like everyone else around here, she doesn’t like what I did to Regan.” He took a long pull on his iced tea and concentrated on the cool liquid running down his throat. God, but he was sick of this topic. Maybe someday in the distant future his indiscretions wouldn’t be the main thing folks wanted to talk to him about.

“It goes deeper than that, and I decided it might help if you understood a little more about her.”

Now this he did want to hear. “Shoot.”

“Her father was a married man who claimed he was single and that he’d had a vasectomy.”

“Oh.” At one time Drake would have offered a comment on that kind of behavior, but he no longer felt qualified to pass judgment.

“That’s why infidelity is such a complicated issue for Tracy. She hates it, but without it she wouldn’t exist. Her dad sent a few checks, but by then he was back with his wife. When the checks stopped coming, Tracy’s mom didn’t go after the bastard because she’s not well educated and didn’t think she could get anywhere, legally.”

“Is Tracy’s mother still around?”

“She eventually married some old cowboy from Idaho and she lives over there, now. But Tracy’s roots are here, so she stayed. Most of us feel as if we helped raise her.”

Drake nodded. “She probably feels that way, too.” Setting his tea on the coffee table in front of him, he leaned back and blew out a breath. “I’m glad you told me all that, although I’d already decided after going over there today that I’d—”

“Going over there?” Josie straightened. “Was there a problem with the animals?”

“Not exactly.” He gave her a brief rundown on what had happened with the pregnant Appaloosa.

“Okay. That’s not so terrible. Regan and Lily will have a good time with a foal running around, and maybe they’ll decide to hire this Rankin fellow. If not, Jack might have a spot for him at the Last Chance.”

“His mare’s in decent shape, so he’s probably good with horses, but that’s all I can vouch for.”

“Jack can ask around about him. I just hope the mare will wait until Regan and Lily get back before she delivers.”

“Me, too.” He planned to be strong in the face of temptation, but he’d rather not be tempted by Tracy at all.

“You were saying something about a decision after going over there today. I didn’t let you finish.”

Drake wasn’t sure he wanted to finish. They’d finally left the topic he was so sick of, and that was a relief. But he supposed he might as well say his piece. “I plan to keep my distance from Tracy. I already have one woman on my conscience who got involved with me against her better judgment. I don’t need to make it two.”

“You’re talking about Regan’s ex-fiancée.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“For what it’s worth, I don’t believe in laying all the blame on you, but people are probably doing that because you’re here. You’re the sacrificial goat, the one who showed up to take the flak. I happen to think that half the responsibility is hers.”

“I can’t say that’s true.” Drake had gone over the night’s events a million times, and he always saw himself as the one who could have stopped it. Should have stopped it.

“Noble of you. Egotistical, too, I might add.”

He blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Do you really consider yourself so irresistible that a woman loses her ability to think for herself when you display your manly charms?”

He stared at her, and after the shock wore off, he started to laugh. Then he laughed until his sides hurt. Finally, he wiped his eyes and cleared his throat. “Thanks for that. You’ve lightened my load quite a bit.”

She regarded him with amusement. “I wasn’t prepared to like you very much, Drake. It’s disconcerting to find out that I like you a lot.”

“Good. I like you, too.”

“The problem is, I’m not even supposed to be here, so I can’t go around telling people that you’re actually a pretty nice guy if they’d only get to know you.”

He shrugged. “That’s okay. Regan keeps telling me to give everyone time.”

“Yeah, well, there are a few around here who are world-champion grudge holders, so don’t expect a miracle. But now that you mention it, that’s something I’ve been very curious about. What are your plans? Are you staying? Are you going back to Virginia? Regan’s always been vague about your next move.”

“That’s because I’m vague about it. I don’t want my old life back, but I’m not sure what my new life should look like, or where it will take place. I’m at a crossroads.”

She studied him quietly for a moment. “There’s this spot out on the ranch, a big flat piece of granite laced with quartz that’s sacred to the Shoshone Indians, although they really don’t go out there anymore. Some say that if you’re having trouble deciding what to do, standing out on that rock helps.”

“What do you think?”

“I’ve never personally used that rock to make a decision, but some of my loved ones have. It couldn’t hurt.”

“Oh, yes, ma’am, it could. I’ve heard that in the Wild West trespassers get shot at, especially if they’re considered villainous cads, which I am.”

Josie grinned. “I wish you and Jack could spend some time together without starting a family feud. I think you’d get along. Anyway, let me give you my cell number. If you decide to head out there, call me and I’ll make sure the coast is clear.”

“It’s a deal.”

When they were finished with their tea, they went out back to fetch Josie’s horse.

Drake walked outside with her. “It was mighty kind of you to come by,” he said.

“I mostly did it for Tracy.” She untied her horse, a large bay, and put on the hat she’d hung from the saddle horn. “I hoped to appeal to your better instincts.”

“You did, although I was already headed in that direction.”

She mounted up and gazed down at him. “That’s good to hear, Drake. I wish you well.”

“Sounds as if I have one more friend around here.”

“You do, but if you mess with Tracy, I’ll quickly become Enemy Number One.”

“I understand.”

“Call if you want a spiritual boost from the sacred rock.”

“I will.”

With a wave, she guided her horse to the front of the cabin and rode off. Drake followed and watched her dismount to lower the rail on the wooden fence marking the edge of Last Chance property. Then she led her horse across, replaced the rail and climbed back into the saddle before cantering across the meadow.

It struck him that although he’d devoted his life to horses, he hadn’t ridden much. His parents owned thoroughbreds destined for the track, and so did all his clients. He’d passed the weight limit for being a jockey when he was twelve, and besides, he’d never aspired to that career.

As a kid, he’d been given one of the thoroughbreds that balked at the starting gate. He’d ridden Black Velvet for a few years, but then school and girls had claimed most of his attention. His riding had become sporadic and mostly confined to summer vacations.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d ridden. He knew everything about the animal—skeletal structure, muscles, tendons, circulatory system...the list went on. But somewhere along the way he’d lost track of the riding part.

Back in Virginia he rented a town house. It had never really occurred to him to buy horse property. He could guess why. He had no desire to own a stable of racehorses, and that was the only model he’d known.

But there were other models. The Last Chance was one of them. Regan and Lily’s equine-rescue facility was another. He’d allowed his view to become very narrow, but a relationship with horses didn’t have to involve running them around a track or even caring for their medical needs.

He wouldn’t mind taking a ride now, but he couldn’t go over to the rescue facility and borrow a horse, and he wouldn’t be welcome at the Last Chance, either. He could try to find a riding stable in the area, but he probably was too spoiled to be satisfied with most stable ponies.

Still, he’d had another epiphany. Whatever his future held, he wanted it to involve riding horses. Good thing he’d made some wise investments, because horse property didn’t come cheap no matter where he ended up. He had a rough idea what his parents’ farm was worth, and the amount was staggering.

Eventually he chose a hike over spending the rest of the day in the cabin reading. He took an easy trail, one he could manage in hiking sandals and shorts. The afternoon was warm, so he wore a sleeveless T-shirt. Exercise was a great stress reliever and helped keep his mind off Tracy and his pesky libido. He pocketed his phone out of habit, and he was on the trail headed home when her call came.

“Dottie is leaking,” she said.

“Leaking what?” His heart pounded. He didn’t want anything leaking. He didn’t want anything going wrong with the mare—for several reasons.

“I think it’s milk, or something like milk. What does that mean?”

“It means I need to come over and check her out. Unlock Regan’s truck. I’ve been hiking, so I’m hot and sweaty. You’ll have to take me the way I am.”

“Don’t worry about that.” She sounded frightened. “Just get here.”

“I will, and don’t be scared. Everything will be fine.” He didn’t know that for sure, but it was a good thing to say when people were upset.

Although he didn’t shower, he pulled on jeans, boots and a long-sleeved Western shirt before hopping in the SUV. Shorts and hiking sandals weren’t the most practical thing to have on if he ended up delivering a foal. As he drove back to the rescue facility, he concentrated on his reasons for being there. This was all about the horse and her foal. Taking her in had been an act of mercy that could end up with everyone feeling warm and fuzzy, unless something went wrong.

If she was lactating, that was a sign that she was closer to giving birth than he’d thought. But the colostrum she’d produce at first was critical to the health of the foal and should be collected. Lactating early could also be a sign of serious trouble that could lead to fatalities, both the mare’s and the foal’s. He didn’t plan to let tragedy occur.

Tracy was standing in the yard, arms wrapped around her torso, when he drove through the gate she’d obviously left open for him. As he turned off the engine and climbed out, she hurried over, all hesitation swept away by panic. He was tempted to gather her in his arms to comfort her, but that wasn’t a good idea, and it wasn’t what she needed from him right now.

“It’s not just the leaking,” she said. “It’s her whole behavior. She’s pacing the stall. Sometimes she lies down, but then she gets up again. I drove Regan’s truck down to the barn so you’ll have whatever you need close by.”

“Thanks. Good idea. Let’s go see what our girl is up to.” He walked fast, Tracy skipping to keep up with him. Before this, she’d always maintained a certain physical distance between them, but that didn’t seem important to her anymore.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have taken her, but I don’t know what Jerry would have done if I hadn’t. If she needs veterinary care, he wouldn’t have been able to afford that, either. I’m so glad you’re here, Drake.”

His heart stuttered. He hadn’t realized how much he’d longed for someone—anyone—to say that to him. After being persona non grata for so long, those words sounded damned good.

She rattled on, obviously needing to vent. “I did some research online and found out she should have a bigger stall, but the stalls are all the same size. Do you think she’ll be okay in there? The way she’s been pacing, I thought maybe she needed more room, but I don’t know what we can do about that.”

“The one she’s in will be fine. All the stalls in this barn are a generous size.” He was touched by her anxiety. At Spirits and Spurs she was in complete control as she dispensed food and drink with flair. But now she was in unfamiliar territory. Fortunately it was familiar to him.

The July sun was drifting slowly toward the horizon, but it wouldn’t be dark for another couple of hours. The barn faced east and west, and she’d opened the back doors to let in the afternoon light. Drake was happy to have the sun. A crisis always loomed larger in the dark.

Sure enough, Dottie was pacing restlessly in her stall and ignoring her flake of hay while the other horses munched their dinner contentedly. Drake talked calmly to her as he entered and kept talking as he ran his hands over her warm coat. Gradually he made his way to her udder and swiped a finger over the liquid oozing from her teat. Apparently he’d misjudged how soon she’d deliver.

Tracy hovered at his elbow, her breathing shallow. “Well?”

He turned to look at her. Her face was pale with fright, and this close, he noticed little flecks of gold in her dark eyes. “The discharge is colostrum, which is extremely important for her foal’s immune system. It’s good that you noticed. I’ll get what I need from Regan’s truck so we can collect and freeze it until she goes into labor. Then we can bottle feed it to her foal in the first twelve hours.”

Her eyes widened. “When do you think she’ll go into labor?”

“Could be anytime, and I can teach you how to—”

“Did you say anytime?”

“Yes, but I can’t say for sure exactly when. Could be tonight, could be tomorrow, could be two days from now. In the meantime, you can—”

“Look, I hate to ask this of you, but I’m scared to death. I won’t have the faintest idea what to do if she goes into labor, and I could freak. I’m freaked now, in fact. She’s not safe with me.”

He had to admit she looked petrified, but he could talk her down. She could do this. “She’s perfectly safe with you, Tracy. I’m not far away, and all you have to do is call me. I’ll be here before you know it.”

She shook her head. “Not good enough. I can feed the animals, clean up after them and love on them, but I’m not fit to be a first responder when a mare delivers a foal. Besides, I have to work my shifts at the Spirits and Spurs, and Dottie would be alone for hours. That could be a problem, right?”

He’d forgotten about that. “Do you have to work tonight?”

“No, but I have to go in at eleven tomorrow morning. What if she waits to go into labor until then?”

“You can call me.” But he was less sure that everything would work out easily. Dottie had changed the game considerably in the past couple of hours.

“Drake, if you leave, I’ll spend the night camped out next to her stall worried sick with my phone right next to me.”

He believed her. “Then I’ll camp out beside her stall tonight. I’m sure there are some old blankets in the house I can use to make a bedroll.”

“You don’t have to go that far. Lily has a spare room. You could sleep in there, maybe set your phone to wake you up every few hours to check on her and collect that stuff the foal will need.”

“Colostrum.”

“Right. Colostrum.”

He hesitated. Sleeping in the barn was one thing. Sleeping in the house with Tracy was a whole other deal. “That’s okay. The barn’s fine.”

“No, no, just because I said I would sleep there if you left doesn’t mean you should put yourself through that. You’re a pro. You’ll know whether it’s safe to grab a few winks, and you’d be better off in a real bed.”

“Yeah, but—”

“I’ll bet you don’t want to stay in the house because you think I don’t like you.”

“You don’t like me.” But once your panic wears off, you’ll be attracted to me, whether you want to be or not.

“I don’t like what you did to Regan, and I don’t blame you for not wanting to hang around someone who’s said some hurtful things, but I’m desperate. Please stay. And take the guest room.”

He took a deep breath. “Okay.” Once the crisis was over, they’d both be like dry kindling ready to ignite. He’d have to get the hell out of there before one of them lit the fire.


4

ON SOME LEVEL, Tracy knew she was taking a huge chance by having Drake close by, but she simply couldn’t handle this alone. She walked out to the truck with him. “Since you’re staying, I’ll share the money Regan and Lily pay me for house-sitting.”

“I wouldn’t consider it.” He opened the back end of the truck. “You need that money for school.”

“I do, but if you’re doing part of my job here, then it’s only fair that...wait a minute. How did you know I’m going to school?”

He gave her a deer-in-the-lights look followed by an expression that clearly said oh, shit. He tried to pass it off with a shrug. “That’s the way it is around here with secrets. Word gets out.”

“Sure it does, but not to you. You don’t talk to anybody except Regan and Lily. At least not about anything significant. One of them told you, didn’t they?”

“Regan told me and then asked me not to mention it, which I just did. Blame it on my big mouth instead of Regan blabbing. He was trying to respect your privacy, but he thought I might want to know.”

“Why?”

“He thought...” A dull red colored his throat and moved up to his cheeks. “Never mind. It’s not important.” He leaned into the truck and began sorting through Regan’s supplies.

“Okay.” She was ready to let the subject drop, at least for now. Apparently her previous high anxiety had blocked her sexual awareness of Drake, because as it fell, her heat level rose. And here she was, within the three-foot limit, which hadn’t been a problem when she was hyperventilating over the possibility she’d have to deliver a foal.

Now it was a problem, especially with him leaning over like that, which showcased his tight buns. She backed away from the truck. “I need to feed the pigs and chickens. When I discovered Dottie leaking, I lost track of everything else.”

“Sure. Go ahead.” Rustling noises indicated he was still gathering supplies. He didn’t turn around. “I’ll take care of things here.”

Then she realized something else. She should offer to feed him—another sticky wicket because logically they’d have to eat the meal together. He might have to spend considerable time within her three-foot limit. Maybe they could sit at opposite ends of Lily and Regan’s dining table as if they were a couple living in a manor house with servants.

Then there was the menu. She doubted it would suit him, but she had to give it a shot. She’d talked him into occupying the premises, and the guy needed nourishment. A small town like Shoshone didn’t have a pizza parlor that delivered.

She screwed up her courage. “After I feed the pigs and chickens, I’ll warm up some dinner for us.”





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