Книга - High-Stakes Colton

High-Stakes Colton
Karen Anders


What’s a cowboy to do when he falls for the woman he’s investigating? Find out in the latest Coltons of Texas romance!Soul-scarred Texas Ranger Jake McCord is no stranger to hardship and heartache. Assigned to solve a kidnapping case, Jake enters Colton Valley Ranch as a horse whisperer…and watcher. His primary suspect? The victim's daughter, Alanna Colton.Alluring Alanna is the picture of competence and compassion as she trains horses and helps troubled teens work the ranch. Jake is immediately drawn to her, and their mutual attraction only intensifies as he struggles to keep a clear head on the case. But his troubles are just beginning, as others on the ranch arouse suspicion and threaten all Jake and Alanna hold dear.







What’s a cowboy to do when he falls for the woman he’s investigating? Find out in the latest Coltons of Texas romance!



Soul-scarred Texas Ranger Jake McCord is no stranger to hardship and heartache. Assigned to solve a kidnapping case, Jake enters Colton Valley Ranch as a horse whisperer…and watcher. His primary suspect? The victim’s daughter, Alanna Colton.

Alluring Alanna is the picture of competence and compassion as she trains horses and helps troubled teens work the ranch. Jake is immediately drawn to her, and their mutual attraction only intensifies as he struggles to keep a clear head on the case. But his troubles are just beginning, as others on the ranch arouse suspicion and threaten all Jake and Alanna hold dear.


“My brother might have hired you, Mr. McCord, but I run the stables, and I don’t go for all that horse-whispering mumbo-jumbo or your sense of humor.”

Jake cocked his hip and set his hands on his belt buckle. “There’s a saying that you can’t step into the same river twice. Once you step in, you alter it, you affect its flow, you transform the soil and water mixture and you make a mark. It’s a changed river. When I’m finished with Diablo, he won’t be the same horse he was when I got here. I’ll guarantee that, Ms. Colton.”

He leaned in. He couldn’t help it. Alanna was so attractive when she was setting her boundaries. Tangling with her was more dangerous than French-kissing a rattlesnake. He should heed his instinct, but it wasn’t in his nature to back down, even though it was in his best interests.

* * *

The Coltons of Texas:

Finding love and buried family

secrets in the Lone Star State…


Dear Reader (#ulink_68a1c29c-c752-5720-a319-3356fb63c23c),

Welcome back to Colton Valley Ranch! Things are starting to get interesting and confusing around the disappearance of Eldridge Colton, and the investigation needs a sure thing.

Burned-out Texas Ranger Jake McCord shows up at Colton Valley Ranch undercover to spy on Alanna Colton, who is the current suspect in the kidnapping of her father, Eldridge Colton. He’s been hired as the “horse whisperer” to tame a black stallion. While there, Jake discovers that her controlling brother is running roughshod over Alanna, who is fighting for her own independence in running the stables.

It makes Jake wonder if she would go to nefarious lengths to take her father out of the picture. While deception and intrigue are all in a day’s work for Jake, what happens when his beautiful suspect doesn’t follow true to form? Could this Colton be innocent—a sexy risk to his heart—and instead be up to her pretty neck in danger?

The chemistry between Jake and Alanna brings a bit of heat to the ranch and I had a sweet time getting these two in and out of heated arguments, sexy situations and their final showdown. I hope you enjoy High-Stakes Colton, the ninth book of the Coltons of Texas year-long miniseries, and don’t forget to look for the last three books for the conclusion of this intriguing mystery.

Happy reading!

Karen


High-Stakes Colton



Karen Anders






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


KAREN ANDERS writes a suspenseful and sexy mix of navy and civilians investigating murder, espionage and crime across a global landscape. Under the pen name Zoe Dawson, she’s currently writing romantic comedy, new-adult contemporary romance, urban fantasy, syfy and erotic romance. When she’s not busy writing, she’s painting or killing virtual mmorpg monsters. She lives in North Carolina with her two daughters and one small furry gray cat.


To cowboys and lawmen.

God bless them.


Contents

Cover (#uc24c8b6b-e067-57d7-919b-b5deb3a04c69)

Back Cover Text (#ua037c36f-6725-5b17-81b1-029395626c9a)

Introduction (#u977cbebb-a664-54cf-b060-3d4e27b4f25d)

Dear Reader (#ulink_ba79ee4a-db40-5f0a-b4db-11c21d1ac963)

Title Page (#ubd5e3ad6-edce-5fde-85bd-8bb5e96901b1)

About the Author (#uedb549dc-3abd-5417-bb20-8800aecb2934)

Dedication (#ub292dd9a-b9c1-5bd2-a321-f2fde0e31bd2)

Chapter 1 (#ulink_a6e068ee-a797-5c93-b60b-d8b43d362f46)

Chapter 2 (#ulink_396811a8-abdc-5ce5-a9c5-5ba82fdda982)

Chapter 3 (#ulink_b0225265-0356-5cb7-8903-c771a3023a20)

Chapter 4 (#ulink_4de32822-e8cc-519f-bd7e-fcfe00f41caa)

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)

Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter 1 (#ulink_47f7fa29-851e-5dbb-9e74-c2bff3ea5acd)

This county was probably one of the prettiest places on earth, as far as Texas Ranger Jake McCord was concerned. And he’d been to a few. Rolling grassland was carved by deep gullies and dotted with copses of oak and pine. It was so damned beautiful with the prickly pear cacti, emerald green color and blue sky.

He squinted slightly as he reached for the thermal coffee mug on the dash. At least the road was decent, largely due to the influence of the wealthy Coltons who owned and lived on this one-hundred-thousand-acre, billion-dollar spread: Colton Valley Ranch. The ranch was his current destination and located just outside of Dallas.

He was fortunate to woo a wealthy woman, Darla, and after purchasing the land and beginning what would become his vast ranch, Eldridge Colton, now also an oilman, had amassed a substantial fortune.

The road made a sweeping curve over the rise, and before him lay a piece of flat land, the cut banks along the southern boundary giving it a plateau effect. Beyond the trees, ranch buildings came into view, and sunlight glinted off a running horse weather vane atop a huge arena. Various outbuildings and five stark white barns with red X’s on the doors. The apartments for the hands built out of a former barn and steps from the working barns were situated right in the center, the space between blocked into paddocks. About a mile away the big rear of the mansion loomed with more paddocks and pastureland, along with another stable, most likely where the Coltons kept their family horses as the arena and barns were at least a mile away. He felt immediately at ease here, the spread reminding him of the ranching he’d done before his stint in the Texas Highway Patrol and getting accepted as a Texas Ranger.

His expression sobering, Jake braced his elbow on the window ledge and absently rubbed his thumb against his mouth, thinking that he hadn’t been on an undercover operation in quite some time. He had recently spent his time at the Texas Department of Criminal Justice French Robertson prison, or the TDCJ French Robertson, training chase horses for manhunts for the Texas Rangers.

Nearing the approach of the long lane, he signaled for a left turn and slowed to a crawl, checking the side mirror as the horse trailer tracked into the turn, the whole outfit rocking as Valentine, his roan gelding in the back, shifted. He kept his speed to a crawl as he drove across the cattle guard, and he checked the side-view mirror again. Once clear, he accelerated slightly, the bright sunlight bounding off the shiny hood of his midnight blue 4x4.

There were two entrances onto the property, a service road from the highway that he was currently using and the more formal drive up to the vast mansion. The first floor was where Eldridge and his second wife, Whitney, had their suite, with the second floor occupied by his children with Whitney: Thomas or more well-known as T.C., and Reid. Also occupying the second floor were his two adopted stepchildren from the marriage with Whitney, Marceline and Zane—who also lived with his new pregnant wife, Mirabella—and another adopted daughter, Piper. That left Eldridge’s children with his deceased first wife, Darla. Fowler Colton had his residence in the left wing along with Alanna Colton. Jake’s main mission was to get close to the family and find out what they were hiding.

Alanna was the manager of Colton Valley Ranch Stables, a huge equestrian center that exclusively bred, raised, trained and sold top class cutters and award winners.

She was probably still asleep in her posh king-size bed, all cozy and warm as it wasn’t quite six yet. The little princess most likely supervised from her high horse named along the lines of Emperor or Rembrandt.

His mood reflective, he absently rubbed his thumb across his mouth again, his gut tightening. He wasn’t exactly sure accepting this mission was the smartest idea his superiors had. He wasn’t the most tactful guy. Granted, he was touted as the best horse handler in the Rangers, and it was bandied about that he was an honest-to-God horse whisperer. But he tended to be blunt, and rich folks weren’t keen on an outspoken employee.

His gut was suddenly in knots. He felt as if he was a hair away from disaster. All he knew was that for the last four and a half months, he’d been kicking himself hard over the death of Tim Preston, a rookie Ranger. The gnawing only got worse and every time he went to sleep, he’d see the whole scene played over in Technicolor. The headshrinkers called it occupational burnout. Jake just called it doing his damn job. Came with the territory, but he’d been relegated to the TDCJ French Robertson prison after he had rushed into a hostage situation. A street thug on the lam from police had run into a resident and her child. Knocked the mother down and took the girl inside with him. Jake had gone in, stared the guy down and saved the girl without bloodshed. He was sure the guy was never going to give up and he would have killed that little girl. Negotiations would have been a waste of time. He’d trusted his instincts and been reprimanded for it.

His superiors weren’t happy, and his psych test told them he “was unable to cope fully with the stress.” No kidding, Sherlock. He’d cope just fine once he found the bastard who had killed Preston. He should have gone with his gut and realized there was something off during that case. Now he had a dead man haunting him and a bad guy who’d gotten away.

When Sheriff Troy Watkins had requested assistance from the Rangers for someone to infiltrate the ranch and spy on the wealthy Coltons, he was the likely candidate. It seemed that their patriarch, Eldridge, was missing and foul play was involved. The sheriff had so far not made any progress on finding who had been behind the kidnapping, hitting a dead end. On the recommendation of the sheriff, Colton Valley Ranch’s new foreman, Buck Tressler, hired Jake to tame a blooded but unruly stallion named Zorro.

It was considered a low-stress mission and tapped into Jake’s expertise—blending in seamlessly with his ranching background and taming horses as though he knew their special language.

So, he got tagged.

A big sign said COLTON VALLEY RANCH STABLES indicating with an arrow that he should go right at the next turn.

He parked the rig in front of the big white clapboard arena with a sign outside that read Abilene, then tossed his sunglasses on the dash. Settling his pearl gray hat on his head, he grabbed the halter lead in the passenger seat and got out of the truck. Two border collies came around the back of the truck, and he reached down and ruffled their ears, grinning when one nudged his leg begging for a deeper scratch.

He wasn’t sure he agreed that this was a low-stress assignment. He couldn’t seem to trust himself and his time in the Rangers had been tumultuous. He was born to be a Texas Ranger. It was in his blood with the long line of Rangers in his family. Both he and Matt, his younger brother, had been groomed to carry on the family legacy. With Matt’s memory came the sense that he’d let his little brother down. Dead at sixteen from an overdose. His brother’s death made him question his instincts. Instead of pushing his little brother, he should have supported him. There was no reason for him to change now. Why did every day add to this belief that he was dying inside? He pushed away those thoughts. He was just going through a bad patch.

He straightened and stretched his long legs. He went to the back of the horse trailer and clicked his tongue as he unfastened the locking mechanism and pulled the back open. Standing to the side as Valentine sidled, he slipped his hand over the roan’s rump and made his way to the animal’s head. Clipping on the lead, he clicked again while pulling slightly on the halter. Valentine, one of the best horses he’d ever met with the heart of a lion and the disposition of a lamb, obediently backed out.

Once the big gelding had all four hooves on the driveway, Jake took him around a couple of turns to get him used to the environment and to work the kinks out of the trailer ride.

Valentine raised his head and flicked his ears forward at the sound of whinnying in the distance. Look at that. He was already making friends. Valentine returned the call. He had excellent manners.

Leading the gelding, he went through the big open doors. Once inside, he had to wait for his eyes to adjust to the dim interior. The skylights were placed every few feet in the arched roof, flooding the arena with faint, early morning natural light. Only the center row of mercury vapor lights high above the arena area were on, and Jake suspected it was a bid to save electricity.

Shoving his hands in his jeans pockets, he skirted the arena wall, watching the two riders who were working a small herd of cows inside the four-foot-high cambered plank wall. Realizing he wasn’t all that visible in the dim light, he rested his arms on the arena wall and watched a buckskin gelding perform, the horse’s movements quick, sharp and highly tuned as he prevented the wheeling, running steer from returning to the herd. A good cutting horse was poetry in motion as far as Jake was concerned, with the horse and rider as synchronized as man and animal could ever get. The horse’s athletic ability had to be top caliber for it to work and the animal had to have cow sense. When it really came together, it was showstopping. And his pulse sped up when he spied the gorgeous blonde putting a horse through his paces.

But it wasn’t just the highly trained, athletic ability of the horse that he appreciated. It was the woman’s stillness, her grace, her oneness with her mount that made his pulse hit overdrive. She was something to see on a horse, especially one working like this one was. It was almost as though she were an extension of the gelding, her hands motionless, the hard, fast, twisting action of the horse barely shifting her in her seat. The lady could stick to a horse like lint; that was for damned sure. He allowed himself a small smile. And she looked mighty fine while she was doing it. He could see why Colton Valley Ranch had a top-notch reputation.

Resting his forearms on top of the wall, he stared at her. She had on blue jeans and tan suede shotgun chaps, and a cinnamon-colored tank top showing off her tanned, toned arms. Her deerskin gloves were darkened with age and use, and she had her golden-blond hair pulled back and braided, but hair had escaped and wisped around her face. A straw maize hat with a multicolored scarf was tied around the crown on her head. She had sawdust in her hair and a big smudge of dirt on her cheek, and by rights she should have looked like a mess.

But not this dynamo.

She looked like she had just walked out of some fashion magazine. Boy howdy, those long legs in tight chaps were enough to make a man forget his good intentions about keeping his hands to himself.

She worked the horse another fifteen minutes, then dismounted, handing the reins to another young woman, then took the reins of the horse the other rider had been warming up. She had just mounted when Jake stepped out of the shadows and started toward her.

About halfway there, he got quite the jolt when he recognized the looker.

It was the princess herself. Alanna Colton.

* * *

“Would you get a load of that?” Tamara LaCross said. “Holy cow.”

Alanna Colton, perched in the saddle of one of the cutters she was training, followed the trajectory of her assistant’s gaze. In the distance, a man was striding toward them, leading a gorgeous blue roan. The horse had a black face, mane, tail and stockings, the coat a blue sheen and a leopard-patterned body.

Feeling strangely breathless, she watched him advance. She glanced at the cowboy and a strange flutter unfurled in her midriff. The man wasn’t so bad, either.

He was tall, six foot two at least. The cowboy literally radiated an aura of strength and masculinity. He was powerfully built with heavily muscled shoulders, but beneath his unquestionable virility, beneath his physical toughness, there was something...some indefinable quality that drew her. She wondered what kind of person really lay beneath his alpha image.

He looked as if he had just ridden off the range. He was dressed in faded blue jeans and a dark blue Western-style shirt that fit him like a second skin. Threaded through the loops of his jeans was a wide hand-tooled belt that sported an engraved silver buckle, and on his feet he wore a pair of scuffed brown cowboy boots. His face was heavily shadowed by the broad brim of his gray Stetson, but even that couldn’t conceal the strong jawline.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” he drawled.

“Yes, how can I help you?” Alanna felt vaguely suspended as she met his steady gaze.

“Good morning, ma’am,” he said, grabbing the brim of his hat and giving it a tug. “I’m looking for Buck Tressler.”

“Buck’s on an errand in town. How can I help you?”

“He hired me to work with your stallion Zorro. Name’s Jake McCord.”

Oh, shoot, this was the horse whisperer Fowler had agreed to hire to work with that damn rogue stallion he had foisted on her without speaking to her first. Sure she had agreed they needed to infuse the stables with some blooded stock, but she hadn’t expected him to pay way too much for an unmanageable stallion. Fowler wasn’t the most patient person when it came to working with horses. In fact, Alanna liked it much better when her brother spent his time focused on Colton Incorporated. Since their father’s disappearance, Fowler had been on edge for the last couple of months with he and Zane fighting over his longtime girlfriend, Tiffany and her possible involvement in their father’s kidnapping. Her family seemed more fractured than usual.

That all seemed to be resolved now with Zane blissfully happy with his administrative assistant, Mirabella, now his wife. Alanna liked and admired the willowy redhead, and was pleased to welcome her into the family.

But with Fowler’s interference in her domain, she now had to work with this tantalizing man. She didn’t go in for that horse-whispering mumbo jumbo and was skeptical of the practice that promised near-miraculous results that were misleading at best and damaging at worst.

Now he’d hired this phony. Jake the Fake, as far as she was concerned.

“Alanna Colton,” she said as he extended his hand toward her. “Welcome to Colton Valley Ranch.” She pulled off her glove and placed her hand in his. She was bombarded by disturbing new impressions and the tantalizing warmth of his callused palm sliding over hers. Handsome? No, not exactly, but there was a compelling attractiveness about him, an attractiveness that was unfeigned and indestructible. Dark eyebrows arched over blue eyes, flecked with gold and amber, and the thick long lashes accentuated their hypnotic intensity, the stubble of beard along his jaw a dark, sexy shadow.

There was something very intriguing about his face, something that touched her in the most profound way. It revealed a depth of character, an inner strength, but it also revealed an imperviousness that had been carved by disillusionment. It was the face of a man who had forged on alone, a man whose sensuous mouth had been hardened by grim determination. And, against her will, Alanna felt an immediate affinity for him that she had never felt for another human being. Her keen awareness of him as a man had an immobilizing effect on her, and she was conscious of nothing except the warmth of his touch and his unwavering gaze.

He was a man of contradictions, and he confused her.

“Thank you kindly,” he responded.

Alanna didn’t want to let go of his hand, and she reluctantly withdrew it from his grasp. Impatiently, she thought this was damned inconvenient. No way did she need another alpha male in her life who told her what to do. Not to mention, she was wary of anyone who professed to “have a way with horses.” She’d already had her brother undermine her, and before his disappearance her father just couldn’t let go of control of the stables even though he often told her she was in charge. She felt like an island surrounded by sharks and if she ever tried to leave, she would drown. She was at the very worst undermined and at the very best ineffectual. Along with running every aspect of a busy and thriving stable, training cutters for market, and now dealing with a dangerous and untrainable stallion, Alanna was working with her new outreach project. Colton Valley Ranch Gives Back was a program for inner-city kids that taught them how to handle horses and provided a safe environment to learn about responsibility, leadership and community. “Tamara, continue working Samson.”

Swinging her leg over the saddle and dropping to the ground, Alanna turned. “Yes, ma’am,” Tamara said, taking the reins from Alanna’s outstretched hand.

“Let me show you your lodgings and where you can stable your horse,” Alanna said. The sooner she put distance between them the better. She still had a full day. But Buck wasn’t due back for at least another thirty minutes, and she didn’t want to delegate this task to anyone else. Jake was an employee and new here. She did want to make him feel comfortable, even with his questionable profession.

“Valentine,” he said.

She approached the roan. Jake watched her with an unsettling steadiness that made her knees a little weak. Reaching out, she rubbed Valentine’s forelock, and he pushed his nose into her hand with an exhale of air. Then nudged her as if he wanted to make friends. Charmed by the gelding’s soft blue eyes and friendly temperament, she couldn’t help herself, she slid her hand down the animal’s smooth neck. “Really, that’s his name?” She smiled, moving around Valentine, her hand running over him. Valentine stood still and calm. “And, I can see why. This marking on him is heart-shaped.”

“It’s a birthmark, but even though he can’t perform, he still loves the ladies.”

“He’s gorgeous, and you’ve taken good care of him.”

“Yes, ma’am, he’s a fine partner.”

The horse nuzzled her again, and she ran her hand over his velvety nose. “You’re a lover not a fighter, huh?” Valentine nickered softly and flicked his ears forward.

“This way, Mr. McCord.” He stepped to the side, making way for her to pass him, and with a gentle guide to the small of her back, his hand big and warm, he dropped back to allow her to pass, but the brief touch had been electric.

She headed for the back of the arena and the big double doors. They exited through into a wide corridor with a row of box stalls to each side, closing the doors behind them. Walking side by side, she led him around the side of the arena, and Valentine pranced, his head up again, this time a loud whinny splitting the quiet air. Several mares in the paddock they were passing trotted over to the fence. She didn’t blame them. He was quite the handsome specimen.

She laughed at his antics and was impressed with the way Jake settled him down with an ease she’d never seen on any horse person she’d worked with, not even some very competent old-timers. It was a sense of balanced energy that radiated out of him as natural and as basic as Jake himself.

“I guess you weren’t exaggerating. He is quite the ladies’ man.”

He scrutinized her intently as if he had already made up his mind about her, but had to switch gears. Not a surprise. A lot of people pigeonholed the Coltons into fancy folk slots, but getting her hands dirty, working the horses, running the stables wasn’t just what she did for the ranch, it was her life. Her father had steered her toward jumping, but it was barrel racing she’d loved and competing was her guilty pleasure. His contemplative tone tinged with an undercurrent of amusement, he said softly, “I don’t exaggerate, ma’am.”

“Unless there’s a campfire and some tall tales to be told,” she quipped before she could stop her wayward mouth.

He slid a sidelong glance her way, some of that cynicism fading with the twinkle in his gorgeous blue eyes. “I don’t tell tall tales,” he said. “You know, unless there’re some greenhorns to sucker.”

She laughed as they came out to the main thoroughfare between the barns and headed toward the farthest, newest of the buildings.

She turned left and led him to the wide-open doors of the barn closest to the apartments. Walking into the interior, Valentine’s hooves muffled against the black, rubber floor mat over a shiny brick floor. Curious by nature, many of the horses in the barn stuck their heads out into the main hall and with an eerie stillness they watched Jake with interest as if he exuded something irresistible...a silent communication. She frowned. That was interesting. She’d never seen that before. What was it about this man that made not only the horses sit up and take notice, but seemed to excite the very air around him?

She noticed a stable hand had Firecracker crosstied at one of their two wash racks. The prized pure white horse was an excellent broodmare for their cutters, but Alanna suspected she would be better at throwing foals suited to barrel racing.

Firecracker started to get antsy and Jake stopped short. His gaze went to the horse. As the stable hand untied her, she broke away.

Jake dropped the lead line to Valentine and ran toward the horse. Firecracker came to a stop and danced until Jake got to her. He whispered something, took ahold of the halter and immediately turned the horse in a tight circle, touching the quivering horse’s neck, quieting her immediately. The stable hand approached and Jake said, “Probably got a whiff of a stallion and it excited her. Just be aware if she starts to get anxious again, untie and lead her around a few times until she quiets down. I know it’s an extra step, but will ensure she doesn’t bolt.”

The stable hand nodded and thanked Jake.

He came back to the docile and quiet roan and picked up his lead line. “Lead on,” Jake said. Alanna had to absorb this new information about Jake. It was obvious he knew what he was doing, but horse whispering was just a fancy name for natural horsemanship. It was true Firecracker was aptly named, but Alanna had never seen her respond so easily to someone.

She stopped at the end of the barn and indicated a corner stall. “You can use this box stall which is cleaned daily. Our horses are fed four times a day with fresh water daily. If your horse requires special needs you can speak with the stable manager for this barn. His name is Billy Jones.”

“Valentine is fit as a fiddle. No extras required.”

She nodded. “All right. He can answer any questions or feel free to ask me.”

He pulled open the sliding stall door with the black steel half grill across the length of the gleaming cedar planks. Guiding Valentine in, he unclipped the lead rope and slid the door closed. Valentine tossed his head and blew and snorted as he explored the interior of his temporary new home.

Alanna noticed how big, strong and sure Jake’s hands were as he handled the large roan with ease. Obviously a man who had been around horses his whole life. She pushed back her curiosity. She wasn’t going to ask. Getting personal with him wasn’t on the agenda. Although, her questions burned in the back of her skull.

“The yoke...” He trailed off, looking at how to open it so Valentine could poke his head out. “He’s a curious cuss and will want to stick his head out to survey the area. He doesn’t bite at all.”

She stepped up to the grill and turned to him. “The latch is right here,” she pointed out. Jake got close, so close she got a whiff of him flavored with a woodsy, citrus scent that made her want to turn her head into his chest and breathe deep.

“Where?”

She reached out and captured his wrist, guiding his hand to the latch. His skin was smooth and warm. The double combination of smell and touch sent her heart into overdrive, pounding with a hard beat. “Right here.”

“Of all the newfangled...” He fumbled around, then made a gotcha sound. “There we go,” he said as he slid the cover to the side and latched it.

He was still standing too close and her gaze connected with his. Alanna experienced that same flutter as she fell victim to the laughter in his eyes. She had a sudden and nearly overpowering urge to touch him again, but she drew a slow, measured breath and deliberately hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her chaps.

He was watching her with that unsettling steadiness again. She made herself back away just to be out of his disturbing presence.

Her voice was only slightly uneven when she said, “I assume you brought your own tack.”

He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yes, it’s in my truck parked up at the arena. I’ll unload it later.”

Okay, more devastating when he smiled. It disarmed her even more. “Let me show you the tack room.”

“You have a chandelier in a barn,” he drawled, stopping and looking up.

She smiled. “Yes, there’s no reason we can’t be elegant and refined, even in a barn.”

He shook his head. “Yes, ma’am.”

It was clear he didn’t agree. “We have a heated tack room, two wash stations that include hot water, a heated viewing area for our customers, and an upper level split loft area for hay.”

Five minutes later she took him over to the apartments, leading him through the great room with its comfy furniture and TV, past the tricked-out gourmet kitchen with two old-fashioned big farmer’s tables where a dark-haired woman who looked about the same age as Alanna stood at the stove, her back to them.

“Hi, Ellen,” Alanna said.

The woman turned and smiled, her hazel eyes warm and infectious. “Hello, Miss Colton.”

“This is Jake McCord. He’s going to be working here taming Zorro. This is Ellen Martin. She’s your cook.”

Her brows rose, and her eyes went skeptical. “That’s a tall task. Good luck with that. Breakfast is at 8:00, lunch at noon and dinner at 5:00. Coffee is always hot and pie plentiful. Snacks on demand.” She smiled, and Alanna was aware of just how pretty the single mother was. She might have sixteen-year-old Daisy, but she was only thirty-three. She didn’t want to think about Ellen and Jake in any romantic situation, not that it would happen. Why did that bug her?

Jake tugged his hat again. “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

Alanna stopped at a small office and opened a metal lockbox hanging on the wall. Searching through, she extracted a key. Climbing the stairs up to the third floor of the remodeled barn, she took him through the door to the largest of the apartments.

“Home away from home,” she said, opening the drapes to reveal a balcony patio. “Fowler requested you be given these accommodations. Parking is in an underground area below the apartments.”

“This is very generous of you, ma’am. Thank you.”

Alanna walked back toward the door and Jake stood just inside the foyer. She had to slide past him. “Fowler thinks you should be as close to and have as much access to Zorro as possible. You will need a comfortable place to come back to.” Her voice lowered. “Zorro is...dangerous. He’s been mishandled in the past and, coupled with a fighting spirit, he is unpredictable. I would ask you, for your safety, to be very careful.”

Jake studied her for a second, then leaned his shoulder against the wall. A heavy measuring look settled on his face, and she got the impression once again that he carried a considerable burden. “Horses don’t live in the past or the future. They live in the moment. People are the ones with an agenda, timetables, time limits, goals. Makes for a major disconnect with their horses. Dwelling on the past brings baggage, and focusing on the future can bring anxiety.” The way he looked was incongruent with his sage response. Awareness churned through her, making her heart jump and she was struck by a paralyzing fascination to know what it was she saw in his eyes. “I work with horses in the present. No need to worry. Zorro won’t hurt me.”

He could hurt you. She thought without reason or comprehension, and Alanna was very good at protecting herself. She had to in a family with more politics than the US government and just as much backstabbing as ancient Rome. With a father who had been rumored to be a former bank robber, a serial killer uncle, Fowler and Marceline scheming to create trouble between everyone, her stepmother’s histrionics, growing up on guard with an inner layer of steel was warranted. She wasn’t going to find out about Jake. Vulnerability was too risky. She had her own burdens to bear, stress and anxiety to handle. Best to steer clear of anything too complicated when her attention needed to be elsewhere. Even with those thoughts, she felt something had tilted beneath her as if everything had just been thrown out of sync. The bleak look in Jake’s eyes did awful things to her heart, and she shivered, hurting for him. And not even knowing or understanding why.


Chapter 2 (#ulink_ae10f43c-7479-522f-895d-f3a912dd4db9)

She cleared her throat and stepped back. “Why don’t you get settled?” She looked at her watch. “Buck should be back in about fifteen minutes and will be at the arena. Meet us back there when you’re ready.”

Ha. Sage advice from him about horses. They did live in the present. Too bad he couldn’t apply it to his own life. Too much of his “present” was mired in stuff that had happened in the past. The loss of his younger brother, Matt, to gangs and drugs, and the loss of the rookie that still made the guilt mount, caused sleepless nights, the heat that had fueled his meltdown and burnout. But he wasn’t here to dwell on baggage. Alanna was waiting for an answer and he nodded. “I’ll be there as soon as I unload.”

She handed him the key. “You’re expected to handle the daily upkeep, but there will be a maid that comes through every week.”

“Will do.” She left and closed the door behind her. This two-bedroom apartment was smaller than his modest house, but definitely more expensively furnished. The floor was hardwood and the colors russet, gold with burned orange accents. The small kitchen was compact and complete with a microwave. The living room looked comfortable and inviting with the leather couch and stylish chair and ottoman along with a rugged coffee table, small stand and wide-screen TV.

It didn’t take him long to walk back to his truck and drive the rig over to the stables and unload his hand-tooled saddle, the saddle pad and bridle. He rolled his eyes at the chandelier. He found a peg in the well-organized and very clean tack room of the barn identified with a shiny bronzed plaque that read Cisco. Looked like all the barns on the property were named after cities in Texas. That was very... Texan.

He parked his truck, then unhitched and stored his trailer in an area designated for them. Back up in the apartment he brought in his suitcases and unpacked.

Taking a quick shower to wash the grime of the road off, he put on a clean set of clothes and headed back over to the arena.

He realized with wariness he was excited to see Alanna again, and it had nothing to do with the case and everything to do with the way she looked in those shotgun chaps.

It wasn’t lost on him, evidenced by Ellen the cook’s comments and Alanna warning him that Zorro was dangerous, that neither woman believed he would succeed in rehabilitating the stallion.

“I love Fowler, but he’s wrong about that horse. I don’t believe he can be tamed, and I don’t want any breeding program I’m endorsing to contain genes from a horse with his disposition.” Jake overheard Alanna speaking to a tall man with broad shoulders, salt-and-pepper hair and eyebrows, impressive handlebar mustache and stubble on his cheeks. The man straightened when he saw Jake walk up, clearing his throat, but Alanna had already stuck her proverbial foot into her beautiful mouth. “Whispering won’t do any good. I think Jake is just a plain old cowboy who knows how to manipulate a résumé and reputation. I don’t believe he’s any more a horse whisperer than I am a ballet dancer.”

Jake stopped and put his hands on his hips and the man she was talking to cued her that she’d better button her lip and turn around. When she whipped around, she faced his gaze head-on without flinching. Damn but he liked a flinty woman who knew how to stand her ground, and he wasn’t surprised she was skeptical of his skills. He got the feeling she wasn’t too keen he was here, but now he was certain it wasn’t only the crackling sexual tension between them. He couldn’t mistake that for anything than what it was.

“You better tie up your pointe shoes. I think I hear the opening to Swan Lake,” he drawled.

The man choked on a laugh, and it was clear not many people talked to Alanna Colton that way, but he didn’t give a damn. There was a small part of him that felt a bit of the ego bruise she’d apparently landed. The rest of him was just much too turned on by this fascinating, contrary woman who ran this stable like a well-oiled machine. He was damned impressed on many levels.

Too bad he was here to delve into her motivations and reasons for possibly masterminding the kidnapping of her own father. Was this slip of a woman capable of that? She was a Colton, so he would have to say yes, but did he feel it in his gut? He wasn’t quite sure that was accurate. Snap judgments were something he’d honed over his time in law enforcement. Alanna discombobulated him.

She folded her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes. He reached out his hand, “Mr. Tressler?”

“Yep, that’s me.” His handshake was firm and quick.

“Jake McCord. The horse whisperer,” he said, and got the expected reaction from Alanna when she stiffened and huffed out a breath. “I’d like to get acquainted with Zorro if that’s convenient for you right now.”

“I’m free—”

“Just a minute,” Alanna interrupted and turned to her foreman. “I need to have a word with Mr. McCord.”

Buck gave him a sympathetic look and said, “I’ll be right outside when you’re ready.” It looked as if Buck thought Jake might be a mite sore after getting his hide stripped by Alanna.

Jake faced the pretty, agitated blonde and waited. She dropped her arms and her fists clenched. “I don’t believe you can tame that horse with magic and moonbeams, Mr. McCord. Just so you know I have no compunction telling you straight to your face.” He went to speak, and she held up her hand. “I believe he’s ruined, unpredictable and dangerous and even a rugged cowboy, all hopped up on his sage wisdom, can’t pull off a save. That’s my honest opinion.”

“I had no doubt you are an outspoken woman, Ms. Colton. I will do my damnedest to show you that I don’t doctor up my résumé or my reputation. Pretty much what you see is what you get. No subterfuge.” He realized he was here undercover, but he was being completely straightforward about who he was. What she saw was what she got.

“My brother might have hired you, Mr. McCord, but I run the stables, and I don’t go for all that horse-whispering mumbo jumbo or your sense of humor.”

He cocked his hip and set his hands on his belt buckle. “There’s a saying that you can’t step into the same river twice. Once you step in, you alter it, you affect its flow, you transform the soil and water mixture, and you make a mark. It’s a changed river. When I’m finished with Zorro, he won’t be the same horse he was when I got here. I’ll guarantee that, Ms. Colton.”

He leaned in. He couldn’t help it. She was so attractive when she was setting her boundaries. Tangling with her was more dangerous than French-kissing a rattlesnake. He should heed his instinct, but it wasn’t in his nature to back down, even though it was in his best interests. Getting attached in any way to a suspect was asking for trouble and getting mired in emotions was certainly not something he needed to add to his already burned-out attitude. She was...refreshing, though, and it was his job to get close to her. Get her to reveal any secrets she might be storing in that pretty head of hers. Getting just close enough, but not too close was his game plan. A little wooing was necessary and he was finding it more enjoyable than he’d planned. “I take your meaning, but my sense of humor might grow on you. And, Ms. Colton, I do all kinds of whisperin’ and reckon it works like a charm, no complaints so far. Let me know if you...” his voice dropped an octave “...need any samplin’.”

He turned on his heel and left her standing there with her mouth open. With each step he felt buoyant, not that he wanted to; he couldn’t seem to help himself.

When he cleared the doors and stepped back out into the sunlight, it was going on seven thirty. “Your hide looks intact, and you’re walking pretty good there, cowboy.”

“This ain’t my first rodeo,” Jake said and grinned.

“Yeah, it takes a strong man to stand up to that lady. Hats off to you.”

“Let me take a look at this devil horse and see what we’ve got.”

“I’m with Miss Colton on this.” He started walking over to a two-seater golf cart. Jake looked at it skeptically and Buck grinned, his demeanor open and warm. “Not exactly what cowboys normally ride around on, but this is a big area and it’s fast transportation. I’ll give you the breakdown as we go.”

“Fair enough.” Jake slid into the seat and Buck started up the engine.

Buck settled his hat tighter to his head. “You also think Zorro is a lost cause?” Jake asked as the foreman put the little vehicle in gear.

“Yes, I’m afraid so. I’ve been riding and ranching all my life. I’ve never seen such a rogue horse. He belongs in the wild with his own herd. Gelding him would be the other choice, but I don’t think he’ll ever be a top-notch cutter or agreeable barrel racer. Fowler is adamant the horse would enhance our bloodlines, and I disagree. He’s got everything else going for him conformationwise. No doubt. But breeding a horse with that disposition seems like a disaster in the making.”

“I haven’t met Mr. Colton yet. I hear he’s not a tolerant sort.”

Buck chuckled. “Fowler Colton doesn’t suffer fools well, or anyone for that matter. But he and the family are under enough stress.”

“You mean with Eldridge Colton missing.”

Buck shot Jake a look, his expression contained with an undercurrent of censure. “I wasn’t here when it all happened. But I’m sure it is a source of stress no doubt, but the family is weathering his disappearance as best they can. Best to leave that to them and Sheriff Watkins.”

“Sure, I understand. It’s been in the news a lot lately. Hard to miss.”

“The media is as hungry for news as a newborn calf is for its mama’s milk,” he said, his message clear. He didn’t gossip about the Coltons. Jake had to admire that and wondered if it was just Buck’s character or something in Alanna that inspired such loyalty. “The stables behind us house the sale stock as well as the indoor arena, as you’ve seen, and includes a viewing area as well as the forty stalls.”

He drove until the apartments were in sight, then made a right to go around. “These are the two barns that house the cutters. Cisco is where we keep the horses we’re training and the studs. Jasper is where we keep the mares, foals and yearlings.”

“How many head you got?”

“Altogether, we’ve got about two hundred or so depending on sales and such. We’re about to have an auction for the new crop of fully trained horses.”

He looped around and pointed out the next set of identical barns. “Spur and Dallas house mostly training stock. I believe that’s where your mount is, correct?”

“Yes, sir. Name’s Valentine. Blue roan.”

“I have a soft spot for roans. Had me one when I was just a tyke.” He gestured ahead. “Each of the service barns holds forty horses with two wash racks and tack room. The mare barns also have sleeping accommodations when mares are foaling in case Alanna or the vet want to catch some shut-eye.”

“It’s an expansive and impressive operation Miss Colton is running.”

“Yes, she has the staff to help her, but she’s pretty tireless and always on top of things.”

As they passed, Jake noted each of the barns had a paddock adjacent to the structure opening out from the stalls.

Buck pulled the small cart over and parked. He got out and Jake followed. “Time for breakfast. Don’t want to miss Ellen’s cinnamon rolls.”

* * *

“You’re both right on time,” Ellen said, her gaze lingering a little longer on the foreman. “It’s nice to have you back, Buck.”

“Good to be back, Ellen.”

“Any luck?”

“Yep, two new mares.”

“Very good. Have a seat before the masses arrive and all hell breaks loose.” Ellen waved them to chairs. She returned with cutlery, two steaming cups of coffee, a pitcher of cream and a pan of cinnamon buns. She set them down in front of them, then went back for a napkin dispenser and a bowl of sugar from the lazy Susan. “Have at it,” she said with a smile.

They dug in and Ellen had been right. People started to arrive. More than he could learn the names of in the first sitting. But it wasn’t until Alanna walked in that for him, all hell broke loose.

She was cordial to everyone, but reserved. When she met his eyes, she didn’t shy away. He liked her self-possession, but he was a master of body language, partly from being a cop and partly from his ability to work with horses. Alanna Colton didn’t trust easily. Who could blame her? If it wasn’t her controversial and backstabbing family, it was the media trying to get dirt on them. Getting close to her was his job. There was no getting around that. But his ability to professionally detach himself from any situation involving the criminal element seemed to elude him. Didn’t mean she wasn’t guilty.

When Buck rose, Jake went with him, setting down the mug, Ellen quickly picked it up and set it into the sink. Jake donned his hat and tipped it as he left. Alanna didn’t give him much of a response.

Later, on the backside of the barn was where he got his first glimpse of Zorro. Jake climbed the fence and the horse turned his head to look at them. He stiffened into an alert stance, his nostrils flaring as he caught Jake’s scent. He could see why Fowler had bought the stallion and why it would enhance both the cutters and the barrel racers. His lines were excellent with all the makings of a stellar all-around stud.

“Thanks for showing me around. I’ll spend some time getting acquainted.”

Buck nodded. “Good luck, Jake,” Buck said as he jumped down from the fence. He stopped and looked at the stallion, then at Jake. The horse had moved closer to the fence where Jake was perched. Not exactly friendly. Jake simply made eye contact and slowly sank down into himself, holding the animal’s hostile gaze. Some people who watched him called it The Zone, but for Jake it was a thought-free state beyond being present but in touch with presence itself—the natural state of being for horses. How they lived life. In the moment.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Buck’s lips part and his brows rise, but Jake kept all his attention on Zorro. The horse’s ears flicked forward, then went back. He took another step forward. There was a noise from inside the barn and Zorro whirled and trotted to the end of the fence. His message was clear. It was going to take more than a positive attitude to gain this animal’s trust.

Buck said softly, “Well, I’ll be jiggered and left.”

“I’m not paying you good money to stand around and stare at him,” a sardonic voice said from Jake’s left. He turned to meet the cold blue eyes of Fowler Colton, dressed in a pricey Stetson and a charcoal-gray business suit with Western accents across his broad shoulders, his brown hair neat around his ears. The oil baron dabbling in horse-trading. It was an interesting prospect since Fowler had no interest in the stables previously.

“I think I left my fairy wand in my other jeans.”

Fowler’s eyes narrowed. “Is that supposed to be funny?”

“No, it’s to remind you miracles don’t happen overnight. You hired me to do a job. Let me do the job.”

“Not many men stand up to me without consequences, McCord.”

Jake had never been a yes-man. He’d been his own man and stated his opinion. He often worked in a system that ate a man whole and spit him out. He realized he shouldn’t have been so flippant, but Jake recognized something right away. Fowler respected a man who could hold his own and would most likely trust someone who wasn’t a kiss ass. “But you come highly recommended, so you get one pass.”

“It takes time to rehabilitate a horse, Mr. Colton. If you aim to breed him with the best results, you’ll give me the time and patience I need to give you the value of that good money you paid.”

Fowler stepped closer, his wintery eyes assessing Jake and recognition flared. Yeah, that’s right, Jake was an alpha, too. “Is that so, son? I’d say get on with it. I’m not in the business of throwing away money and that stallion was pricey. Make it work.”

“In good time.”

Fowler turned to go, but almost collided with a pimply-faced teenager leading a mare. “Watch where the hell you’re going!” Fowler said, and the teenager quickly apologized.

“What is your name?”

“Mike, sir.”

“Well, Mike, I’ll have you off this spread so fast your head will swim.”

“He deeply apologizes, sir. Don’t you, Mike?”

A tall, good-looking cowboy intervened just before Jake was about to open his mouth and try to smooth it over.

“Yes, sir. Deeply.”

Fowler gave both of them one more glaring look and strode off on his pricey hand-tooled boots.

“Better get Jo back to the barn now, Mike.”

They had a quick conversation about being more careful, even though it was Fowler who wasn’t looking where he was going.

The older guy faced Jake and said, “Hey, there. Saw you at breakfast but didn’t get a chance to say howdy. Dylan Harlow and that’s Mike Jensen. He’s one of Alanna’s troubled teens. Good kid.”

“Jake McCord.”

Dylan took off his hat and ran his hand through his dark hair, then jammed his hat back on. “Whew, still a mite warm for September.”

“Figure it is.”

“You the guy they hired to handle Zorro?”

“I am that man.”

“Boy howdy, you got your work cut out for you and I don’t just mean Zorro. Good luck,” he said as he sauntered off.

Jake nodded, looking in the direction Fowler had taken. Jake was sure the CEO of Colton Incorporated wasn’t done breathing down his neck.

At the end of the day, feeling the effects of the heat, the dirt and the slow start with Zorro, Jake headed for his apartment and the meal he was sure Miss Ellen would be cooking. After the initial meeting with Zorro, Jake found the rest of the afternoon to be frustrating as he tried to get closer to the animal. But it was as if he was off for some reason. He wondered if it could be Alanna. She did knock him for a loop.

As he approached, the aroma of beef and other delectable scents hit him as he entered the apartments. Ellen was at the stove and she waved to him as he climbed the stairs, his stomach grumbling.

In his newly appointed apartment, he stripped, opened the linen closet and discovered there were no towels. There was a knock at the door and he hastily pulled on his jeans, zipping them but in his hurry forgot to button them.

When he pulled open the door, Alanna Colton burst into the apartment toting a stack of fluffy brown towels with her tail on fire.

She came to a stop and bemused, he followed her. She was a combination of edgy sweet and bossy princess. She turned and that direct gaze slammed into him. Hoo-boy, she was riled. “I understand you had a run-in with my brother. What happened?”

“He wanted me to hurry up and fix the horse. I left my fairy wand in my other jeans.”

Her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. “You didn’t actually say that.”

“I did.”

A soft laugh escaped and she shook her head, a gleam of admiration there. “And, you’re still here?”

“Left my fairy dust at home, too.”

That made her laugh out loud as if she was picturing him as Tinker Bell. “You had a full day pissing off the Coltons, huh?”

“Setting my boundaries is all.”

“I’d say they’re set. Not many men can or are willing to cross swords with my brother. That sets you apart, Jake.” His body leaped in response to her softly spoken compliment, urging him to do something—anything—about it. Hard to keep telling himself this was supposed to be a fake wooing when the sexual tension between them was clouding up his mind in a thick fog.

He nodded, taking a breath, shifting to accommodate the sudden lack of room in his jeans, deciding they needed a benign topic. “The towels are welcome,” he said in the sudden silence. Alanna had just realized he was bare-chested. The way her startled green eyes drifted over him set his teeth on edge, the very air vibrating with tension. On undercover operations where he had to get close to a suspect, he hadn’t worked this hard to stay detached. But she intrigued him.

He stepped over and slid his hand on top of and under the stack, and their fingers accidentally brushed across one another. She pulled her hand away, and stepped back. Her sudden uncertainty was so at odds with her bold nature. They were still standing close and something tightened in his chest. She was so innocent-looking, angelic even with her honey skin and tawny hair now loose and free, cut into tapered layers. But it was her face that did him in, every time. As a man he was acutely aware of her body, but he was a fool for that face, the innocence and the beauty of it never failing to turn him inside out.

“I saw the maid with them and I wanted to talk to you about Fowler. Let you know he’s...particular. He’s also out of his element and that makes him—”

“Confrontational?”

“He’s that on a good day. I was going to say nasty. But he’s handling the situation the best he can.”

“With your father’s disappearance,” he asked, not having to feign the slight roughness to his voice. Did she have any idea the effect she was having on him? Probably not. He didn’t fully understand it. But tell that to the rest of him, which was having no problem at all responding to her. Why he felt protective of her was anybody’s guess.

Think about why you’re here, boy, and rein in that hunger.

She blanched a bit and looked down, then nodded. If he wasn’t mistaken, that was true pain and worry in her eyes before he lost her gaze. If he was to go by what he’d just seen and felt, he would swear on a stack of Bibles that Alanna Colton had nothing to do with her father’s alleged kidnapping. But he wasn’t here to make snap judgments. He was here for facts.

Her bowed head and the glimpse of this angel’s pain worked against his cynicism. He leaned in, reacting on instinct, breathing her scent. Which was dangerous, given his current state of mind—and his tight jeans—but an impulse he seemed helpless to curb. She had been training horses all day and by rights she should smell like a barn. Only she didn’t. And standing this close, he noticed how smooth and soft-looking her skin was. For someone working such a physical job, exposed to the sun and wind, he’d expect her to look a bit more...worn.

Then it was that slight overbite. It was cute, and she wasn’t the cute type. She was no-nonsense and wore her confidence as easily as she did her shotgun chaps. What she was, drilling it into his head, was off-limits at least for where his male brain automatically took him. Give her what he suspected she was lacking...a shoulder to lean on. There wasn’t anyone in her family she could turn to for comfort and that made for a lonely existence. He knew that too well. It was something he was here to exploit.

He’d started this and now Alanna Colton was going to make this much too real.

But he would do his job, regardless of how the Colton princess was getting under his skin.


Chapter 3 (#ulink_db262f6a-2cf9-558f-9f37-57fecd87b91d)

Alanna had always used physical work as a means to keep her own ghosts at bay. If she kept busy, she wouldn’t think about how totally worried and upset she was about what had happened to her father.

But work wasn’t going to help here...now. Not with Jake’s voice so soft and deep. Not when he was so enticing, half-naked, with those sinfully tight jeans, unsnapped and showing off all that muscle in his hips.

The waning afternoon light angled over him, defining the solid ridge of muscles across his shoulders and up his torso, thick and hard across his chest, casting his deeply tanned skin in a patina of bronze. The strong angle of his jaw was highlighted by a stubble of beard, the burnished skin across his cheekbones drawn smooth. He looked like a heavy weighted anchor, not even an earthquake could shake him. The kind of anchor she craved in the deepest part of her where that little girl who had grown up so alone lurked.

It was an unspoken rule that Coltons did not talk to outsiders about family matters. Alanna had grown up an heiress, stood to inherit a large sum of money from all of the Colton holdings, it naturally made her wary of anyone who got too close.

And Jake was too close.

Not only in proximity.

But when Fowler had growled and said Jake’s last name like it was a swear word, she couldn’t get over here fast enough to find out what had happened. Now she was standing here with a loaded question regarding her father’s violent and mystifying disappearance. She lived in an environment where she always had to watch her back, even from her family members. The police seemed to be at a dead end after first clearing Fowler, then Zane. The turmoil the family had been through the last couple of months would rival a soap opera. Then who could trust Marceline? She hated Eldridge and had been acting so secretive and...well...guilty. Did she have something to do with his disappearance? Then there was her stepmother, Whitney. Her insistence and dedication to finding her Dridgey-pooh seemed real, but was she a good actress, really worried and upset, or did she hire someone to murder her husband? But if her dad was dead, where was his body? A painful contraction clutched at Alanna’s heart.

The need to talk to someone was an aching pressure against her breastbone, holding in the worry and the despair as each day passed. The fact that there was no news wore on her, tearing at her armor.

But Jake was an outsider, an unknown. His reputation aside, she couldn’t trust anyone, not inside her family circle or outside it. Not to mention, he’d also undermined her this morning with his refusal to take her seriously over Zorro.

“I suspect your brother isn’t the only one struggling with it.”

His voice was quiet and full of understanding as if he knew all about the kind of suffering that took chunks out of her. He tested her sense of balance. This bond they seemed to share was as unexpected as it was unwanted. At least on her end. The fear of giving in to that need for comfort was just as strong as her attraction for him. The problem was she hadn’t determined if he was friend or foe. But even if he was the former, she couldn’t risk it. At this point, she had no control, nor did Fowler believe she had what it took to be the decision maker for the stables. He’d told that to her face once it was clear he was now in charge. He and her father were one in the same mind about her abilities.

Jake would probably be just the same and letting an alpha get closer to her would be tantamount to jumping off the side of a cliff. She might as well give up. Besides, his time was limited. Once he realized Zorro was a lost cause, he would quit. All she had to do was resist temptation. Very potent temptation.

“We’re doing the best that we can,” she said, her response flat. It was time to turn tail and run.

She wasn’t too worried about him being inappropriate. Her worry was all about her misbehaving. Jake was potent enough and with his face and body and the sense that he was carrying the kind of pain she was made it all the more enticing to unburden herself to someone who would understand it. The pull of that was magnetic.

Either she wasn’t quick enough or he had the instincts of a predator as he blocked her attempt to leave by simply stepping into her path and setting the towels down on the coffee table.

“That’s all we can do,” he murmured. “The best we can.”

There was something in his voice that resonated with her big-time, like he knew what it was like to fight against something, as if constantly climbing a hill. She didn’t want this...connection with him. But against her will, it was there.

“I should get going,” she said, thinking to get out of his presence would be a good thing. “There’s still a lot of work to be done.” She should have curbed her impulse to come dashing over here after she’d seen the result of her brother and Jake meeting for the first time.

“You do work hard here.”

“You say that as if it surprised you.”

“Maybe it did. I expected you to be the queen, I guess. Not the worker bee.”

“You really can’t believe everything you read in the media, Mr. McCord.”

“How about I open my mind and you start calling me Jake?”

Did he want to be friends? Or more? She was getting the vibe that he wanted more, but now she wasn’t so sure. Maybe she was just projecting her own wishful thinking.

Curious about his background was an understatement. “How did you get into...horse whispering?”

He shrugged. “Fell into it. Had the knack and something that came naturally.”

“Which is really all it is. A fancy and manipulative way of labeling natural horsemanship. There’s nothing mystical about it.” She had a deeper conviction before she’d seen him calm down Firecracker, but she still held the belief that it was all science, not magic.

She paused to see if he would elaborate, but he said nothing more, and she took that to mean her line of questioning was over. Perhaps for the best. Information was fine, but in hindsight, the more he offered, she supposed, the more she owed in return. Maybe the less they had to talk about, the better.

As if to prove her point, he said, “You were the force behind Colton Valley Ranch Stables. How long have you been working with the horses?”

She stilled briefly, surprised he knew about her past. Not that it was a secret. Alanna knew reports of her work history out in the public domain were pure fluff. It could be that the people who worked for her talked, but it was discouraged. Still, it was more than a little unsettling to think he’d been checking up on her, or asking about her. Her guard increased. “I was the one who brought it up to my father when I was younger and had gotten into barrel racing. He was all about the cattle, but I loved the horses.” Still, she found it hard to maintain direct eye contact in the face of Jake’s rather intense focus. She doubted he missed much, and after dealing with Fowler’s surprise purchase of Zorro and her father’s sanctioning of it, her guard was in need of a bit more shoring up before handling this kind of test.

“I’m guessing you’re an island here.”

Her heart took a jolt. “How so?”

“It’s not easy to buck traditions, especially in a male-dominated industry.”

Those softly spoken words wormed under the armor she had just been shoring up. She blinked a couple of times, forcing herself to maintain steady eye contact, but it cost her. She could only pray he didn’t see how his words affected her down to that seething, frustrated woman deep inside her.

“This is a man’s business,” she replied, feeling it was a pat and safe answer. There was no denying that ranching and the cowboy way were squarely in the male-dominated arena. Especially in Texas where the men had big, strong personalities, called their women “little ladies” and pampered the hell out of them.

“I got a feeling men in general and Colton men in particular don’t have a clue about your strength and staying power.”

She had to relax and respond as if this was just a normal getting-to-know-you conversation, which it likely was. She was so used to keeping everything to do with outsiders, hell, with her own family, superficial. She didn’t want anyone getting to know her, that was all. Especially not this man, with his crystal eyes and overwhelming intensity. He made her nervous and made her pulse race, all at the same time.

She grinned. “That is for sure.”

“Discounting you is a mistake, Alanna. I’m sure you’ll rub their noses in it before all is said and done.”

She tried to maintain a casual air, but his comments made her wonder if he was simply innocent and supportive. Could he really be working for Fowler? Against her? It wouldn’t be the first time Fowler would stoop to underhanded ways of gaining information. Was Jake pumping her for information? With all the backstabbing going on, that was not out of the realm of possibility.

She had to consider it and keep Jake in her sights until she could discover if he was here to train Zorro or be her brother’s snake-in-the-grass spy.

Or could he have his own personal agenda. She couldn’t discount he might want her money or to bed the Colton heiress or both.

Usually she could spot a fake a mile away, but even with her convictions about horse whispering, he was hard to read.

“You gotta play to win.” Her lips curved a little, despite the nerves jumping around in her stomach.

“Maybe you can tell me about it sometime.”

Damn, he was unnerving and it was unnerving enough, just standing so close. Jake didn’t strike her as the kind of man who would work for her brother against her. But, she couldn’t underestimate Fowler. She loved him, but he would do what was best for the Coltons’ business interests, even foil her attempts to get her way.

She wanted to expand into barrel racers and open a training facility, as well. It would diversify the business and use the expertise of her current employees. But Fowler couldn’t possibly know that. She hadn’t trusted anyone with her ideas, not even her father. She’d drawn up the plans, scouted all the stallions and broodmares, and projected all the costs and the revenue. This was her baby and she’d sink or swim on her own. That’s the way it would be.

Jake was standing far too close—at least, that was the excuse she used for taking a slight step back. He didn’t allow the escape, minor though it was. A small step and he was even closer to her than before.

“Maybe,” she responded noncommittally. He cocked his head, and there was interest in those blue eyes, but she couldn’t be certain exactly what the source of it was. When he turned it on, the heat was so intense, she felt scorched clear down to her toes. She had muscles quivering in places she’d normally have to be naked to have quivering, and he hadn’t so much as laid a finger on her.

And, God help her, in that moment, she certainly wanted him to lay fingers and a whole lot more on her.

Trying desperately to shake herself free from such a spellbinding haze, she broke away from his intent gaze and sidestepped around him. Unfortunately, it required her to slide and put her hands briefly on his chest since they were in such close quarters. Without warning he settled his arms around her and spun her toward the door, not letting her go immediately.

His skin burned beneath her palms and the look in his eyes sent weakness through her, her nipples were so tight they hurt.

His head dipped, but he didn’t move any closer. The twitch of his lips was more of a real smile now, one that made it all the way to his eyes, crinkling the corners. And wasn’t that just lethal and oh so sexy. “Maybe, huh? Don’t be too worried about setting me in my place. I can handle rejection.”

She couldn’t help it. She smiled back. “I’m taking a shot in the dark here, but I bet that doesn’t happen to you often if at all.”

He lifted a shoulder, but didn’t respond.

She still didn’t believe the interest wasn’t just a cover for something else.

“I won’t keep you any longer.” It was his voice, she decided, as if he was hypnotizing her the way he did horses. The timbre of his voice when he said “keep,” how it dropped an octave, melted her. “Oh, thanks for the towels.” The twinkle resurfaced, as did the eye crinkling. “And for the concern over your brother, but I can handle him.” He was intensity personified, which she was clearly struggling to resist. She really didn’t need him to be charming, to boot.

“Thank you for the compliments.”

“All true.”

She was looking straight at him—like she could look anywhere else, even if she wanted to—and she could swear he was telling the truth. Maybe she was paranoid. Maybe he really was simply here to train Zorro and to kill some time flirting with an heiress.

But being paranoid was what had kept her one step ahead of her father and brother, the press, businessmen who thought she was a pushover, and blue-eyed flirts who thought she was starved for attention and might be an easy lay. She couldn’t afford to be anything but an island.

But he made it easy to respond to this verbal foreplay he’d so effortlessly begun. Like, even if she didn’t have bigger things to worry about, she’d want the attentions of a guy who may be anywhere from a low-down spy to a bedpost notcher.

“You wouldn’t be trying to get us both into trouble, would you?”

His lips curved. There was a flash of white teeth. “Maybe,” he said before he closed the door.

She stood there for a moment, then realized she was in the hall. How she’d gotten there escaped her.

Maybe she was starved for attention and maybe he was cowboy sexy wrapped up in a gorgeous, well-muscled package with all kinds of sidetracking possibilities.

But everything about her upcoming coup d’état had to stay hush-hush. She was going out on a limb with her plans, going against her father’s wishes and now against Fowler’s.

She was an island all right. One surrounded by shark-infested waters.

She couldn’t trust a soul. Or could she?

Was Jake one of those hungry sharks or was he that lone rescue ship on the horizon?

* * *

A few days later, things weren’t any better. She’d tossed and turned every night thinking about Jake and his hot body and tame-the-savage-beast sexy voice.

Currently, she was grinning as she stood behind the open stall door and watched Clay Ford, one of her kids from the community project Colton Valley Ranch Gives Back lead Lotus out. She had no worries about the horse acting up. Excluding Clay doing something totally unusual, Lotus would go through the motions on autopilot, as she’d done a million times before.

Other than overseeing the breeding, shoeing and general upkeep of the stables, Alanna had kept pretty much to the arena and away from Zorro’s paddock. She didn’t want to come into contact with Jake. Hopefully, he could do his horse-whispering magic, then go back to where he came from.

Just because she took the time to put on makeup and a little lip color or take care to put on some skinny jeans with a black tank and a short-sleeved checked shirt tied under her breasts and a pair of really cute black boots when she normally wore ratty working clothes and worn brown boots didn’t mean a thing.

She certainly didn’t need to worry about Lotus misbehaving. The one she needed to worry about was herself. In any near vicinity, Jake was potent enough. Up close in any personal proximity, he was downright intoxicating. He was intensity, charm, humor with the kind of focus that made her want to smooth her hair back and moisten her lips. Hell, if she was honest he made her want to do a whole lot more than that. There had been moments where she could have sworn he was thinking the same thing. Thank God there had been plenty of interruptions.

Even if Jake wasn’t the enemy she feared—and she wasn’t certain about that yet—he wasn’t an ally, either. Of any sort. Couldn’t be, not in her current circumstances. She just hadn’t counted on that bothering her so much.

She closed the stall door as soon as the horse was out, then walked on ahead of them, toward the crossover to the other aisle.

“What if she doesn’t go?”

She turned and smiled when she found him still standing just outside the stall. “No worries, Clay. She’s quite the lady and will be fine. You did say you wanted to learn to ride.”

He nodded, his whiskey-brown eyes still wary of the mare which wasn’t a bad thing. A healthy respect for animals that weighed tons of pounds and could with a flick of their head or a movement of their body do some serious damage. He was a handsome kid, one who had that bad boy vibe going and the chip on his shoulder, using a disarming grin to get by. He’d gotten into some trouble with the law over shoplifting, but it was because he was living on the street.

It was satisfying work—more than satisfying, she thought, as she replayed some of the kids’ reactions today as they spent time around these magnificent beasts.

In the few months since she’d worked to get the program going, it had never ceased to move her, the way the animals brought out so much in jaded teens who were otherwise so closed off, mostly due to forces beyond their control and largely terrible situations and circumstances. She wasn’t sure if she could save any of these kids, the system was a tough place to be, but she hoped she could give them some values and responsibility, show them what it was to work hard for a good cause. Give them a purpose for now and maybe...just maybe they would find something they could use for their continuing journey into adulthood.

She wanted to enrich their lives, giving them windows of opportunity to express and enjoy themselves in ways that conventional therapy methods could not. Oftentimes, the look on a teen’s face made it clear how vitally important their being here really was.

It was invigorating, but also exhausting. A whole lot of emotions were being expended into the air of Colton Valley Ranch Stables every single day, and it did zap a person, even if it was for the very best of reasons. Today had been one of those days. She’d debated even working with Clay, not wanting to risk him or Lotus picking up on her less-than-sharp reflexes, or worse, her tension. Tension that really had nothing to do with the day she’d put in, and everything to do with the man who had invaded her world. But the day she’d put in made hiding those feelings a little tougher. And she needed all the stamina she could muster to make it through this lesson.

She heard some stamping down the aisle and saw it was Mimosa getting shoed. Ah, bad timing. That horse was ornery on her best days and nasty on her worst. She didn’t recognize the farrier with a stable hand. He must be new here.

Torn between teaching Clay and calling their lesson quits to deal with the unruly mare, she was just about to get Lotus back into her stall and postpone the lesson when Jake appeared. That man seemed to know exactly when a horse needed to be gentled or soothed. And, just like before, Mimosa calmed as if by...magic.

All up and down the row of stalls, equine heads popped out. Lotus turned and with a soft nicker greeted Jake as if he was one of their own. It was eerie and uncanny. He stood framed in the light, his gray broad-brimmed Stetson casting his face in shadows, his plaid shirt open at the neck, tucked into a pair of worn jeans as he stood with his thumb hooked in the front pocket. The hair on the back of her neck rose and she found that she was holding her breath.

Oh, for the love of God, she wasn’t going to buy in to it, but she was beginning to suspect Jake had some skill which only made her want to run in the other direction.

Then Jake looked up and Mimosa sidled, the look on his face was thunderstruck, pain rolling across his features like a tidal wave. She followed his line of vision right to Clay.

Clay, standing in profile while his attention was on the horse, sensed something, too, as he looked over his shoulder at Jake. Clay’s head whipped back around and he took a quick breath and it looked for a moment like fear in his eyes as if he saw the long arm of the law reaching for him.

Her attention went back to Jake, sensing his sudden withdrawal, as if walls had suddenly gone up, Mimosa settled once again.

With Jake’s expression fixed and shuttered, there was a grimness around Jake’s mouth that made her stomach drop.

Their eyes held, her stomach twisting, feeling as though she had witnessed something, very personal, and so painful.

The farrier finished and Mimosa was led away. Jake settled the gray Stetson onto his head like he was going into battle, and headed toward her and Clay.

She couldn’t help but wonder what had put that look of bitterness in his eyes.


Chapter 4 (#ulink_ac8544bc-88ec-56d7-8b79-58b6ea44effa)

Jake was still reeling from his first glimpse of one of Alanna’s teens. It was as if he’d seen a ghost. He resembled Matt so closely that in the dim light of the barn, he thought for a minute it was him. But of course, reality sunk in. Matt was dead. Jake had failed him.

The emotions about his brother’s death had been contained, but were still volatile and he reined in his guilt and shame at being unable to help Matt when he really needed Jake the most.

As Jake approached, the look in Alanna’s eyes compelled him to put up a wall. He couldn’t give in to the pain that still lurked and hit him when he least expected it. The sound of a laugh, the whiff of peppermint or the strum of a guitar. Matt’s presence was gone, but the memories of him lingered like long-lost ghosts.

He shook off the effects of his lapse in control, which got easier as he neared Alanna and the kid.

Clay looked at him like he was a cop and Jake relaxed into projecting calm, just as he had with the pretty sorrel mare. Jake recognized the wide eyes, the nervous disposition. Street kids had a sixth sense when it came to the law. He recognized all the signs he’d seen in his kid brother. But Matt was gone and he had a job to do.

“Good afternoon,” Alanna said, and there was something about her voice that tangled him up every time. “This is Clay Ford. Clay, this is Jake McCord.”

Jake stretched out his hand and noticed how Clay’s curiosity replaced his fear. “You’re the guy who’s supposed to train that crazy black horse.”

“One and the same. Are you the guy who’s going to get some lessons from Alanna?”

“Yeah, what of it?”

“Nothing. Just being nosy.”

That look came over the kid’s face again.

Jake turned to find a man walking toward him from the opposite end of the stable. He had a halter and lead rope in each hand and dragged his right foot, just a tad. A memory niggled at him and he studied the man harder. A jolt shocked through him. It was the slight drag that tipped him off. This guy reminded him of the man who had killed Tim Preston. Jake was sure of it. It had been dark and he hadn’t gotten a really good look at his face, but that slight drag. He chased the guy but couldn’t get a hand on him. He’d disappeared, but that limp stuck in his mind. He’d scoured the area for the perp afterward and looked at every mug-shot book available, but was never able to identify the drug dealer. He would remember his voice for sure. He’d heard it through Tim’s mic.

The man came alongside them and Jake watched him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Clay stiffen and look down. Jake heard the gunshot again in his mind, the sound deafening in the quiet night. The anguished sound Tim made as he was hit, then the thud of his body as he’d fallen to the concrete. The sound of running footsteps. Then Tim’s labored breaths. He’d whispered through the pain, “Tell Jen I love her.” Then one long breath as he’d died.

The horse, Thundersparks, made a soft whickering sound, bringing Jake out of his thoughts. He’d endured a lot within the last few years, losing his brother and then the rookie. This job was bringing up a lot of baggage.

Henry drew closer and she dropped her head to snuffle around at his hands.

“Treats after you work a bit, my pretty,” he said. Jake thought Henry’s voice, the deep nasal quality of it, seemed familiar. Could he be the guy who had killed Tim? Jake would have to keep his eye on him. He was undercover and he didn’t want to blow it, and second, he at this point had no proof.

He would bide his time and watch this lowlife like a hawk. The man opened the stall door and clipped one of the lead lines to the halter, led the horse out and cross-tied her close to the open door to the paddock.

He moved to another stall door and haltered the horse inside. As he led the horse out, his gaze connected with Jake’s and in addition to a flash of something in his eyes before he masked it, there was something dark, something evil and it stirred Jake’s protective instincts like nothing else he’d ever known. Rage rose up like a beast inside him, wild, rabid, unchained. He fought it with everything he had, managing to wrestle that monster down and remain calm. He nodded once in greeting.

As the man passed with the big buckskin gelding, Alanna said, “Henry, could you work Damsel, too? She’s due to be bred and it’ll be good for her to get a bit more exercise.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Henry said.

“Jake, this is Henry Swango. This is Jake McCord. He’s training Zorro.”

“Better you than me, mister. That’s one crazy horse.”

Jake forced himself to take the hand Henry offered, but made the handshake brief.

Tamara came into the barn. “Alanna, could I have a few minutes?”

“Clay, maybe we better save this lesson until later.”

“Sure,” he said, but Jake could tell the teenager was disappointed.

“I could do it,” Jake said before he thought better of it. It was uncanny how much Clay reminded him of Matt. That might have been what was motivating him, but he hated to see the kid not get on a horse. There was nothing like riding.

Alanna said, “Are you sure, Jake? You weren’t hired to give riding lessons. If my brother...”

“You let me handle that. I’ll take over until you get back.”

“All right,” she said and walked out with Tamara.

Henry moved on after a glance at Clay who scowled and looked away. He headed toward the rear paddock, then paused and looked back at Jake as if he was making sure he either recognized him or didn’t. He slung a halter on a hook by the next stall door and leaned inside. “I’m coming for you next, your ladyship, so no point trying to play invisible.” Henry chuckled as he continued to the end.

“Let’s take her out to the paddock,” Jake said, moving up closer to Clay. “You’ll want to choke up on the lead rope and take her halter, but just on the edge. You don’t want to get your hand wedged in there if she decides to bolt.”

“Bolt?”

“Yeah, but...” He indicated the horse.

“Lotus.”

“But Lotus looks very docile. Aren’t you, girl.” The horse nickered softly at him again.

“She likes you.”

“She likes you, too.” Jake placed Clay’s hand on the halter and coiled up on the rope a bit. “You want to walk her to the center of the aisle. Stay just to the front of her forelegs, but to the side of her head.”

“Not out in front?”

“You can direct her with the rope, but I want you to stay where you can see if she’s reacting negatively to anything. You don’t want to be five feet ahead of her and have her spook or rear and yank you on your ass, or worse.”

Clay snickered. “No. Ass-yanking doesn’t sound like fun.”

Jake laughed. “It isn’t.”

“Says the guy with experience?”

“Hey, everyone has to start somewhere, me included.”

He was pretty sure Alanna was avoiding him. After dropping off those towels a few days ago and his attempts to get her to start to see him less as a stranger and more of a friend, he wanted some more alone time with her. But on this big spread it was hard to accomplish that with all the people who worked here, not to mention Alanna was constantly busy. He felt frustrated and not only in trying to corral Alanna, but his training with Zorro wasn’t going well and he couldn’t quite figure out why.

Most horses...all right, every horse he’d ever come into contact with, he could bend to his will, show him he was the leader and they would fall into line. Not Zorro. He fought him every step of the way. It had been three days and he still couldn’t get close to the animal. He kept moving away every time Jake approached. He’d even spent some time inside the paddock just letting Zorro get used to his presence.

“You think you can tame that stallion?”

“I believe I can.”

“And, that’s enough?”

He had to focus on the training. He wasn’t here for that, but the horse drew him and Jake wanted him to have a better quality of life. Right now he was wary of everyone. Just as Clay was. He was a lot like Zorro. Abused, lost, alone.

“Don’t underestimate the power of believing something will happen. I visualize it and keep an open mind. Anything is possible.”

Jake should focus more on why he was here and that was to get information about the family. He might have established motive for Alanna; she wanted to actually be in control, not to have to play second fiddle to her father and meddling brother, but he couldn’t seem to fully give over to the thought she masterminded her father’s kidnapping.

Clay snorted. “Right. That’s what adults say to encourage kids even when there’s not even a snowball’s chance in hell it will happen.”

He wasn’t here to help disillusioned teenagers find their way. Jake turned to him and stopped. “Here is fine.” Then he took a breath. “You have all you need to get where you want to go. Seriously, believing is powerful.” Clay shrugged like he didn’t care. Jake hadn’t been able to get through to Matt, either. “Drape the rope over her neck,” he said, using hand gestures to show how he should do it. “Then hook it around, so it makes one big hoop. You’ll use that as your reins.”

Henry was on the far end of the paddock working with the three horses on a lunge line. Jake didn’t like this development. He was worried Henry would try to recruit one of the impressionable, vulnerable teens. He was more determined to keep tabs on this potentially dangerous ranch hand. “I don’t need a bridle thing?” Clay asked, his voice a bit wobbly. Jake focused on him again.

“Apparently not with Lotus. Ms. Colton would have bridled her once she got the horse out of the stall.”

His expression was wry. “She gave me a horse that babies ride.” It was clear Clay was disgusted.

“Not necessarily, but an easy one. Not everything needs to be a battle, especially the first time you learn to ride.”

Lotus snorted and shook her mane. Clay jumped away with a startled look.

Jake tried not to laugh. He went over to the kid and said, “That’s a contented snort. She wants you to ride her.”

“Don’t laugh,” Clay said.

Jake nodded, schooling his features. “Let’s get you up on her.”

Then Alanna’s soft voice came from right beside him. “Jake is a professional. He would never laugh.”

Caught off guard, Jake turned toward her and caught her eye. The gleam of shared amusement was in the green depths. He must have been concentrating too much. Hardly anyone sneaked up on him. Being this close to her made it hard to think clearly. She shifted her focus to the horse, then to Clay. Pointing at the stirrup, she said, “Hold the pommel with your left hand, left foot in the stirrup, and up you go. Right leg over the back end, one smooth lift as you push up on your left leg.”

Jake backed off as Alanna took over. He lingered, watching her patiently and expertly teach Clay to ride, keeping part of his attention on Henry. The surprise and joy on the teen’s face obviously fueled Alanna.

So the Colton heiress wasn’t as much of a princess as Jake had first thought and she was getting down into the trenches with her staff. Here she was giving her time and resources to this troubled kid. The pull of her was just this side of magnetic. His instincts told him that she couldn’t have done anything to her father, but the facts warred with his gut.

Chatting up the staff, he’d only found out the family was private but one effusive stable hand talked about Marceline Colton, Whitney’s daughter from her first marriage whom Eldridge adopted and made into a Colton. How she always seemed to be lurking around the stables. He had photos of all the Coltons and he had spied a beautiful, shapely blonde several times, but he hadn’t yet been introduced. Then he’d hit pay dirt with Tamara. She had let it slip that Alanna and her father were at odds about the stable. She’d overheard them arguing one day before he’d disappeared. There seemed to be some dispute as to who was in charge. Tamara said Alanna worked hard and knew what she was doing. Her family should let her actually run the stables instead of acting like she was the figurehead.

It made Jake waffle and wonder all over again if Alanna had made the decision to do away with her father and take control of the stables that way. Now it seemed Fowler was blocking her and usurping her authority when he bought the horse Alanna didn’t approve in advance. That must have rankled, especially if Alanna had something to do with Eldridge’s kidnapping.

With the lesson over, Alanna sent Clay off to dinner. As she headed back to the stable, he came up alongside her.

“You enjoyed that.”

She was beaming as they passed into the barn’s interior. The sun was waning, getting ready to set. There was a vibrancy about her that added color to her cheeks and lit her from within. And she’d been pretty powerful stuff before.

She reached Lotus’s stall and he slid the door open as she led the horse inside. “Was this your brainchild? Colton Valley Ranch Gives Back?” He leaned his back against the side of the stall door as she lifted up the stirrup and hooked it over the saddle horn. She reached for the buckle on the girth and grunted a little as she released the tab.

“Yes, it was. I have always wanted to help the community, get the word out there about how wonderful horses can be for pleasure and work and therapy. Some of the kids are responding beautifully to working at the stables where they hadn’t responded in any other capacity.”

She pulled the saddle from Lotus’s back. Jake pushed off the wall and took it from her. “Like Clay.”

He faced her and their fingers brushed again, but Alanna didn’t remove her fingers. A whiff of her fragrance among all the other pungent smells of the stall only added to his attraction. The killer was it wasn’t some fancy perfume. It was the fresh scent of soap and shampoo. His body soared to life. Like it needed encouragement. Who’d have thought the wafting scent of citrus could give a guy a raging hard-on?

She let go of the saddle and turned back to Lotus. “Exactly like him. He was living mostly on the streets, got caught for shoplifting and instead of juvie, he came here.” She unhooked the lead rope and reached for a brush hanging in a basket. Pulling one out, she started to stroke the horse’s coat. “I offered him a constructive atmosphere instead of destructive. A place where he could live and get back what it felt like to be safe.”

Against his will, memories of Matt surfaced.

She tilted her head and studied him. The look in her eyes was soft and tender, and it did crazy things to his heart. “Did you know someone who lived on the streets? Is that why you have that look on your face?”

She gave Lotus a few more swipes, then dropped the brush into the bucket. He straightened and followed her out. “I knew someone once,” he said.

She headed for the crossover and the tack room. Opening the door, she indicated a saddle rack and he let the pad and blanket drop away into her hands as he slid the saddle in place. She walked over to a blanket bar and set the blanket and pad there.

He was busy neatly adjusting the girth strap, getting it ready for the next time the saddle would be used.

“Making a difference counts,” she said. “It feels good to do something for the greater good.”

He wondered if that was because there was so much infighting in her family. “What prompted you to take on this project?” She turned to him and opened her mouth.

“Alanna?”

The sound of Fowler’s voice sent her gaze to the door. “Here,” she called.

He appeared, looking every inch the oil baron. His mouth pinched when he saw Jake. “I need a word with you.”

“Me?” she asked, although his gaze was on Jake.

“Yes,” he said. “And, you, how goes it with Zorro?”

“It’s Jake. Just in case you forgot my name. It’s progressing,” Jake said.

“See that it continues to progress,” he said curtly, then turned to Alanna. “Come on. We don’t want to be late for dinner. You know how Whitney gets and it’s even worse now Daddy is missing.”

“Can’t we just talk at dinner?” Her voice was weary and Jake wanted to step in and lessen her burden, but that wasn’t why he was here. He had to curb the impulse.

“No. I don’t want to discuss this at the house.”

“Very well. Thank you, Jake, for your help.”

“My pleasure,” he said as Fowler’s eyes narrowed.

“He can finish up in here,” Fowler said, taking Alanna’s arm and ushering her out.

She was turning into a paradox for him. She exuded both vulnerability and strength. But she was warming to him. Fowler’s interruption was ill timed. His gut told him she was about to say something no one in the Colton family had ever heard from her. He was sure she didn’t expose her vulnerability to any of them. That made him feel sad for her and wasn’t a good thing in his line of work. Neutrality was what he needed to maintain and he fought against with her.

There was still a wariness about her that had him wondering what it was going to take to win her over completely. Which was insanity. Because winning her over was not the objective here. Solving her problem wasn’t the goal he needed to achieve. He was here to get the dirt on her so she could either be eliminated as a suspect or she could be arrested. Once that was accomplished, he would go home and she’d either stay here or end up in jail. So there was no point in winning anything.

As soon as they were out the door Jake slipped to the opening and peered out. They were heading for the Cisco barn. Shutting off the light and closing the door, he shadowed behind them. Fowler’s voice carried on the wind.

“I’d rather wait until we got to the stable office to tell you what this is about,” he snarled.

“Why all the secrecy?”

“It involves delicate matters and should be discussed in private.”

“In other words, I’m going to argue and you don’t want everyone to hear.”

“Alanna. Wait until we get to the office.”

“Okay,” she said on a sigh. “But this would be a good time to tell you that I intend to expand the operation. Initiate and open a training center and purchase a string of broodmares and two stallions I have scouted to begin a breeding program for barrel racers.”

“For the love of...” He grabbed her arm and all but dragged her the rest of the way. Jake wanted to throttle the man for treating her so roughly, but kept at a safe distance.

Their heels made a clicking sound on the concrete aisle as they headed toward the office and the door closed with a slam behind them.

Jake noticed there was a gap in the top of the office and the beams. He was going to have to climb if he wanted to hear what they were saying. In the dim interior, he found a makeshift ladder that looked like it was used to access the skylights. He set his foot on the first rung and was up into the beams.

“...out of your mind...thinking...not going...”

He heard pieces of the conversation as he carefully made his way over to the office.

“I don’t care whether you like it or not, Fowler. I’m in charge of the stables.”

“You think you can make this end run because Daddy is absent? He wouldn’t approve this.”

“I’m sick of hearing that. My name is listed as manager of the stables. I’m the one who practically grew up on a horse’s back. They were better companions than half the people I knew. I want to do this my way.”





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