All the King's Horses (11 page)

I smiled to myself as she tried to sneak in a little nip; she was mouthy but not nasty about it. Mostly lips, no teeth, and probably just curiosity rather than being grabby or aggressive. Some babies were like that. Granted, Star was almost three, but somehow I doubted she’d had a lot of healthy, constructive handling in her early days to help her mature past some of her baby habits. With someone as patient as Dustin working with her, she’d probably get over them with time.

I scratched the side of her muzzle, then turned to get back to work. I hadn’t gone ten steps from her stall when Dustin’s voice stopped me in my tracks.

“Amy?”

I spun around. “Oh. Hey.”

The ever-present black hat put a shadow across his eyes but didn’t quite hide the slight lift of his eyebrows as he asked, “You have a minute?”

“Yeah. Sure.” Oh God, I was so busted. He must have seen me with Star just then. How the hell did I explain myself? Especially after we’d had that discussion about Chip. I was just petting her, but he’d been clear about those horses and… Crap. Good thing I didn’t have too much to pack…

He cleared his throat. “How much experience
do
you have with horses?”

I chewed the inside of my cheek. “I’ve, um, worked with them. A lot.”

“Define ‘a lot’.” He held my gaze, and I swore his intense blue eyes saw right through me.

I fidgeted and couldn’t keep myself from breaking eye contact. “I’ve worked with them all my life in one capacity or another.”

“Ever done any training?”

I looked him in the eye again, and something in his told me he already knew the answer somehow. “Yes,” I said softly. “Some.” I paused, but then his knowing expression pulled a barely whispered, “Quite a bit, actually” out of me.

Dustin gave a single, slow nod and said nothing for a long moment. About the time I was going to ask if there was anything else, he went on. “Listen, I was wondering if you’d be interested in working with Blue and Star.”

Okay, apparently I was sleep-deprived to the point of auditory hallucinations now. I cocked my head. “Come again?”

He hooked his thumbs in his pockets in a failed attempt to appear casual and relaxed. “I’ve been thinking since last night. And, um…” He paused, clearing his throat again. “Look, I’m scheduled into the ground, and there’s no way I can give them the attention they need. I can pay you more.”

I stared at him, my expression probably making him wonder if I’d suddenly lost the ability to comprehend the English language.

He shifted his weight. “I guess I was just thinking,” he said. “After I saw you with Chip.” A little bit of color appeared in his cheeks. “Maybe I jumped the gun.”

“Well, you did tell me to stay away from him, so…”

“I did,” he said with a slight nod. “But you must have done something right, because if I understand what I saw correctly, you had him eating out of your hand. And
not
taking your arm off.”

“Aside from the bite that started the whole thing, yes.”

“Exactly. He bit you, which means he was threatened, but then you turned him around so he was quietly eating out of your hand. While you were in his stall.” Dustin shook his head. “Even I won’t go in there while he’s eating.”

“Was he starved or something?”

“No, the show horses usually aren’t,” he said. “But for some reason, this one’s territorial anyway, and when you put food in front of him?” Dustin whistled. “I’d put bars or a stall guard over his door if that didn’t make him wig out even more.”

I loosely folded my arms across my chest. “So, if I’m hearing you right, now that you’ve seen me not get myself killed in Chip’s stall, you want me to work with your other two abuse cases?”

“If you’re interested,” he said quietly. “And maybe Chip too. Eventually. He’s got a long way to go before he can be saddled, let alone ridden, but…” He swallowed. “I’d have you work with some of the others first, but I owe it to my clients to work on the ones they’re paying me to train, not the rescue cases.”

“Right. Okay.” I paused, still trying to accept we were even having this conversation. I looked at Star, who watched us over her stall door. Maybe this was what I needed. The chance to rekindle my long-dead love of horses. And for that matter, if Dustin trusted me with this, with his most vulnerable animals, then maybe
I’d
jumped the gun with
him
.

I turned to him and nodded. “Yeah. I can work with them.”

Dustin’s shoulders dropped just a little. “You have no idea how much this will help me. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” I said. “Thanks for…um… Thanks for the opportunity.”

He offered a slight smile and started to turn like he was about to leave but stopped. “Oh, and tonight, we’re…” He dropped his gaze for a second before looking me in the eye again. “The folks and I, we’re going into town this evening. To a country club.” He paused again. “Do you want to go?”

“A country club?” Something told me this wasn’t the same kind of country club I’d been to in my other life. Something else told me my heart shouldn’t have started racing like this, and my knees shouldn’t suddenly be this unsteady. I smiled, hoping it didn’t seem too forced. “Um, sure. Yeah, I guess. Sounds like fun.”

His eyebrows jumped. “Really? Great.” He smiled, though I couldn’t decide if it was forced or nervous. Maybe both. “We’re leaving at six thirty, so just meet me in front of the house.”

“Sure,” I said. “I’ll be there.”

He left the barn and left me standing there wondering just who the hell he was and what he’d done with Dustin King. First he was looking down his nose at me and telling me to steer clear of certain horses, and now this? Offering to let me work with his horses
and
inviting me out this evening?

Shaking my head, I went back to work. I wasn’t so sure about socializing with Dustin, but now that the offer was on the table, I did like the idea of getting off the ranch for a little while. I’d made all of two trips off the property since I got here, once to the grocery store in town and once to run an errand for John. Apparently, it was possible to get some cabin fever when the cabin in question was thirty-five wide-open acres of horse country.

After I’d brought the horses in from their pastures and made sure everyone was fed, I went back to my side of the duplex to get cleaned up. It occurred to me as I looked through my clothes in the old oak dresser that I should have asked Dustin what people customarily wore to this place. I hadn’t been to any country bars before—I assumed that was what country club meant in this context—and for all I knew, this could have been a jeans-and-a-cowboy-hat place, or the women could be wearing giant square-dance skirts. Not that I’d feel any less out of place either way.

And whatever the dress code, I hadn’t packed many clothes to begin with. Most of what I brought with me was for wearing around the farm. Jeans. T-shirts. Heavier clothes in case I was still here when that bitter Eastern Washington winter rolled in.

At least I’d grabbed a few favorite earrings and bracelets; they had some sentimental value, and I guess I must have been afraid someone would take off with them if I left them in the house. And I did have the foresight to bring a handful of button-up blouses on that off chance I decided to go someplace that didn’t involve dust and mud. But were any of those appropriate for the place we were going tonight?

I glanced up at the mirror above the dresser and laughed. Was this really me? Fretting over having nothing to wear? Wow.
That
was new.

But then, so was going out with someone who was this confusing. And attractive. And unreadable. And…attractive.

I grabbed a pair of jeans and a halfway decent white blouse. Once I’d showered, changed clothes and covered up the fading bruise on my face, I scrutinized myself in the mirror again.

“
Is that really what you’re wearing?
”

I bit my lip, and something in my stomach twisted as I avoided my reflection. There was nothing wrong with this, was there? I mean, it was a country-western bar. Jeans and boots would be fine.

“
Amy, I really think you should—
”

Shut up, Sam. Just shut up.

I put back my shoulders and stared down my reflection. This was as good as it was going to get tonight, so hopefully it was good enough for Dustin.

That thought made me jump, and I held my own gaze in the mirror.

Good enough for
Dustin
? Since when did I care?

But then I thought about how he might look tonight, cleaned up and clean shaven, all straightened up and pressed in that way good-looking cowboys did so damned well, and yes, yes, I
did
care. If only for tonight, even if it meant I really had gone irretrievably off the deep end, I cared.

But if he didn’t notice or care or approve, it still wouldn’t break my heart. I looked fine. If Dustin or anyone else had a problem with how I looked, so be it. I wasn’t concerned with my image or anyone else’s tonight. I just wanted to go out, have a couple of drinks and maybe even dance a little, and just once in my life, I wanted it to be okay not to care what anyone else thought.

Though it wouldn’t
hurt
if Dustin looked twice, so I undid my blouse’s top button.

Through the thin white fabric, I could see the dark V of the leather string hanging around my neck. The ring itself wasn’t visible, but I swore I could feel the cold metal against my skin, and every time my nerves registered its presence, I heard Sam asking me again if this was what I was really wearing, if I was really leaving that button open, if I really thought I should do this tonight.

Screw it. I reached under my blouse and took out the leather string that held my ring.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” I whispered as I pulled the necklace over my head. “I need to be okay tonight.”

I set the ring and necklace on the dresser, gave myself one last look in the mirror, took a deep breath and then went outside to meet Dustin.

Chapter Eight

Dustin

I was just closing my front door when Amy stepped outside.

Our eyes met from across the porch as the storm door banged shut behind her.

My God, she looked good. Her dark hair fell over her shoulders just right to screw up my blood pressure, and there were few things in this world I loved more than a woman who wore a blouse like that with jeans. And then there was that top button she’d left open. The V of skin didn’t plunge far enough downward to expose more than the faintest shadow of cleavage, but showed enough of her collarbones to drive me insane. They didn’t stick out like she was emaciated or anything, but protruded just enough to draw my attention and make me wonder what it would be like to kiss—

“Dustin?” Amy tilted her head. “Something wrong?”

Not with you,
I wanted to say.
On the other hand, my ability to speak, or think, or move…

“No, of course not.” I smiled. “You ready to go?”

She returned the smile, but her expression wasn’t without some uncertainty or apprehension. Nor was her voice when she quietly said, “Ready when you are.”

“Great. Let’s roll.”

Amy looked around. “Aren’t your parents coming?”

“They already left,” I said. “They’re picking up some friends on their way into town, so we’ll be going separately.” I paused. “Is that okay?”

“Sure. Fine by me.”

Together but a somewhat comfortable arm’s length apart, we walked down the steps, our boots thunking in near unison on the wooden slats. She climbed into the passenger side of my truck, and I got in on the driver’s side. I started the engine, pretending that the whole time I’d been showering and getting ready to go, my stomach hadn’t really been wound up in knots. Forty-five minutes. In the truck. With Amy. Alone. Wouldn’t this be an exercise in not making an ass of myself. Or in being able to steal a glance without running off the goddamned road.

And what the hell was wrong with me?

I pulled out of the parking area, and the truck bumped and bounced in the potholes in my dusty driveway. As I turned onto the road, gravel crunched beneath the tires. Miles of winding country road stretched out in front of us, and I gripped the wheel a little tighter.

Seriously, what
was
wrong with me?

It wasn’t like I’d never been around an attractive woman, for heaven’s sake. I’d been around plenty of them. My ex-wife was stunning, and when I met her, I’d been able to untie my tongue long enough to keep from saying or doing something stupid. Of course, when I met her, I didn’t have that guilt hanging over my head about doing a little snooping online to figure out who she was because I didn’t have the balls to just, like,
ask
.

Oblivious to the insanity in my head, Amy gestured at herself. “I hope this is okay. It’s…kind of all I have.”

I shrugged. “They don’t have much of a dress code. And besides, you look fine.”
You look more than fine, Amy. Holy fuck.

“Thanks,” she said softly.

We rode in uncertain silence for a little while, and probably would have continued for most of the drive if a thought hadn’t made it from my brain to my mouth before I could stop it.

“So when I put the ad up,” I said, “I have to admit, you weren’t the person I was expecting to respond.”