Every Breath She Takes (11 page)

“Great! When can we do it?”

She stepped back, and his breathing eased a fraction. “Well, I’ve already put my money on tomorrow night,” he drawled, then watched as she blushed.

“I meant the test with Cosmo.”

He paused to consider. “I’ve got some new folks coming in tonight. What about right after lunch tomorrow, while the new crop of cowboys are resting their backsides?”

“High noon?” Her brow pleated in a small frown. “It’ll be a tough test.”

“What? You want to back out already?” He half hoped she did. Chances were good he could talk her into bed
tonight
, and to hell with waiting for tomorrow.

“No, noon is fine. Now I’d better go rescue my hat before someone steps on it.”

He opened the stall door for her and watched her go, those long legs of hers inspiring erotic ideas.
Twenty-four hours
, he reminded himself.
Twenty-four hours and she’d be his.

Across the way, the stable hand backed out of a box stall with a wheelbarrow full of dirty straw and manure. “Hey, Earl,” he called, then set off with a distinct bounce in his step.

Lauren skipped the morning trail ride the next day. She had work to do. As soon as Cal left with the excited group of riders, she went out to the barn. A quick word with Earl, and she knew who could help her—Cal’s trail boss, Jim Mallory. She found the old man cleaning tack, surrounded by the gentle odor of saddle soap.

“Jim Mallory?”

He glanced up from his labor and smiled. “Miz Townsend.”

“Lauren.” She returned his smile.

“What can I do you for, Miz…Lauren?”

“Earl tells me you’re quite skilled at leatherwork.”

“Naw, I’m just a mender.” Lovingly he touched the cantle of the saddle he’d been cleaning. “Now this is skill.”

“It’s beautiful.” Lauren fingered the intricate design.

“So what do you need in the way of leatherwork?”

“Blinders,” she said, lifting her gaze from the saddle.

Jim’s mouth fell open. “Blinders? You mean, like we slap on the Percherons when we harness them up?”

She nodded. “Same concept, but we want to shield more of the eye, like so.” She showed him a rough drawing she’d done.

“Horse won’t like it.”

“This one will.”

“Which one?”

“Cosmo.”

Jim eyed her, considering. “Think it’ll help?”

Lauren explained her theory, then went on to tell him she’d made a bet with Cal and needed to be ready to test her theory by noon. When she was done, Jim’s eyes had narrowed thoughtfully.

“You seen this work before?”

“Well, no, not personally, but I understand it’s worked for other horses.”

“What if it doesn’t work for Cosmo?”

“Then I lose the bet.” A jolt of raw excitement knifed through her at the thought.
It wouldn’t really feel like losing
.

She pushed the traitorous thought aside. She wanted to win this bet. Not that she genuinely expected to learn anything from Cal to help her with the investigation. She’d admitted that much to herself last night, just before slamming the door on that line of thought. She didn’t want to analyze why it was so important for him to open up to her.

Jim’s voice yanked her back. “Well, I guess I’d better get busy then, hadn’t I? You fetch a bridle and I’ll get my kit.”

Cal leaned his chair back with a sigh as Delia removed his plate from the worn pine table. “That was a fine meal, Delia.”

Across the table from him, Lauren added her compliments. “Well, for two people who enjoyed dinner so much, neither of you cleaned your plates very well,” Delia observed tartly.

“We’re in a bit of a hurry, that’s all,” said Cal.

“I know,” she replied, gesturing to the empty dining room. “The whole bunch of them have gone out to the corral to see if Lauren’s cure works.”

Shit. Cal’s chair clumped back onto all fours. “Everyone knows about the bet?”

She fingered her napkin. “I mentioned it to Jim Mallory.”

“Jim?” Was the whole ranch speculating about them? Cal waited for Delia to move away before continuing. “Chrissakes, why?”

“I needed his help with the bridle.”

A ghastly thought struck him. “Oh hell, you haven’t devised some wicked contraption to curb poor Cosmo, have you?”

Her mouth fell open, then snapped shut. “God, no!”

Cal sat back in his chair. “But you did modify the bridle?”

“He still has full range of motion,” she assured him. “He’ll be able to toss his head just fine, if he’s so inclined.”

Well, that was a relief. But he still couldn’t relax. He had one more question. “Does that mean the whole ranch knows what’s riding on this little wager?”

“No, of course not…”

“Despite our necking in the barn, I’ve got this quaint idea that what passes between a man and a woman oughtta be private.”

“As do I.” She leaned closer, her eyes flashing. “You think I’d purposely expose myself to that kind of attention?”

Marlena had
. Damn, but it still rankled. He thought he was over that shit. “No, I guess you wouldn’t.” He passed a hand over his eyes. “Look, I’m sorry. It’s just my experience being what it is…”

“No, I’m sorry.” She cut off his apology. “I shouldn’t have taken offense.” She took a deep breath and smiled. “So are we ready to do this?”

“I’m ready.”

Delia wasn’t lying. Everyone
was
there. Cal and Lauren crossed the paddock together. Lauren paused at the stable door.

“You want to ride him?” she offered.

“No, you go ahead.” He scanned the spectators. “Need some help to saddle him up?”

Jim Mallory stepped out of the barn. “He’s already saddled and wonderin’ what all the fuss is about. Go git him, Lauren.”

Lauren disappeared into the dark doorway, and Jim headed for the paddock fence to take up his favorite leaning posture. Cal followed. “I hear you been conspiring against me, old man.”

Jim was predictably unruffled by the complaint. “I think she might be on to somethin’. This just might work.”

“What’s she rigged up?”

Jim bent one knee and hooked the heel of his boot on a rung. Comfortable, he reached for his tobacco pouch to roll a smoke. “She swore me to secrecy. You’ll have to wait and see.”

He didn’t have to wait long. Lauren emerged first into the sunlight, but all eyes were on the bay she was leading.

“What the hell?”

His prize Tennessee walker was wearing…Christ, what
was
he wearing? They looked like some kind of goggles. They covered the sides of the eyes like blinders but arched up clear around the top of each eye.

Lauren sprang into the saddle. With a glance at Cal, she gave the gelding a pat on the neck, then walked him around the paddock. Fifteen minutes later, she’d put him through his paces. He’d tossed his head a few times, but Cal had to concede it was normal tossing, not his usual uncontrollable thrashing.

The crowd, conceding there’d be nothing more to see, dissipated.

As Lauren rode up and dismounted, Cal wasn’t sure how he felt. Jim had no such ambivalence. He clapped Lauren on the back, his weathered face splitting into a wide, tobacco-stained grin.

“You done it, girl! You fixed ’im.”

Lauren’s smile was just as wide as Jim’s, but considerably toothier. “I didn’t really fix him. Take the blinders off and he’ll go right back to tossing his head. It’s a photic thing.”

Cal lifted an eyebrow. “Oh, a
photic
thing.”

Jim took the reins from Lauren. “That means the effect light has on somethin’,” he said helpfully as he passed Cal.

“I knew that!” he called after Jim. He turned back to Lauren to see laughter dancing in her blue eyes. “Okay, so maybe I didn’t, but I figured it out when I saw Cosmo’s shades.”

“It’s a lot like the sneeze impulse we humans get when we look into the sun.”

“Makes sense. So Cosmo’s really back in business?”

She nodded. “With the shades, as you called them. And I imagine you could work him after sunset without them.”

“So it looks like you win,” he said, his gut clenching at the thought. Damn, how had she known the shades would work?

The memory of how Lauren had handled the scare with Marlena popped into his head. She’d been Johnny-on-the-spot with the medical knowledge that time. Come to think of it, she was an ambulance attendant, an accomplished rider, a writer of erotica, and now a freaking horse whisperer. What else could she do?

“So you’ll talk to me?”

Lauren’s question straightened his spine.
Christ
, he hoped she wasn’t an amateur shrink too, wanting to dig around in his head. He shook the thought away.

“I’ll make good on the wager, but first tell me, how’d you know the blinders would work?”

She answered with only the merest hesitation. If he hadn’t been studying her face, he might have missed the wariness that crept into her eyes. “I’m a veterinarian,” she said. “Small animals, but I do have some experience with large animals. I did a stint with Agriculture before setting up practice in Halifax.”

“A vet?” Cal inhaled sharply. He couldn’t have been more surprised if she’d hauled off and belted him one.

“Yes, a small-animal vet. I’ve got someone covering my clients right now.”

He pushed his hat back on his head. “I thought you said you were a writer.”

She lifted her chin. “Can’t I be both?”

He ignored her question, but he couldn’t ignore the dismay blossoming in his gut. Somehow, once he’d attached the label of writer to her, he’d imagined some kind of footloose existence for her. She’d come here to do research, hadn’t she? But if she was a veterinarian with a practice waiting for her two-thousand-odd miles away, no way would she hang around here after her little holiday was finished. Suddenly his chest felt tight.

“Well, aren’t you a regular McGyver.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You find that threatening, do you, Cal? That a woman can have multiple competencies?”

“I don’t find it threatening; I find it pretty damned dodgy,” he shot back. “Why, for instance, didn’t you tell me you were a vet when I first asked you what you did?”

“You didn’t ask me
what I did
,” she countered. “You asked me what my interest was in your ranch operations. If I’d been interested in my capacity as a veterinarian, I’d have said so.”

Cal took a deep breath. She was right; he’d accused her of conducting market research and she’d replied she was just researching a book. There was absolutely no basis for his anger.

Except that she had concrete ties to the East Coast, responsibilities that would call her home when her holiday, or her research, or whatever the hell it was she was doing here, was done.

His anger dissolved, fear seeping in to take its place. Why should that thought upset him? The whole appeal of an affair with Lauren was the very transience it offered, wasn’t it?

Worried, he did a split-second lust check—did he still want to get her between the sheets, given this new knowledge? His body’s answer was emphatic, and vastly reassuring.

Whew
.

“Sorry. Guess I’m a little sore about losing the bet.” He gave her his best good ol’ boy smile. “I had my heart set on winning, as I’m sure you can appreciate.” The way her breathing accelerated made his pulse leap. Maybe they could
both
get what they wanted. “So where and when would you like to do this little debriefing?”

“I get to choose?”

“You’re the winner; you get to call the shots.”

She licked her upper lip, then bit her lower lip, a gesture Cal was certain was as unconscious as it was sexy.

“What about tonight, in my cabin, after the sunset ride? Or later,” she added, “if you’ve got stuff to do first.”

“After the ride would be fine,” he said, an ironic smile tugging at his lips. “I already cleared my schedule.”

She blushed at that, but held his gaze. “Okay, tonight,” she confirmed, then turned and strode away.

Tonight
, he echoed silently as he watched her go.

Lauren’s nerves were stretched to the point of snapping. The sundown ride had been gorgeous but uneventful. Afterward Cal wanted to get his guests settled with Seth for the Friday night bonfire down by the creek, so she’d come back here to wait for him.
Big mistake
. She was so wired up, her breathing was keeping time with the clock as she paced her living room.