Tall, Dark and Cowboy (16 page)

“Sleep okay?”

Chase drank in the sight of Lacey leaning against his kitchen counter, her glossy hair lit by the morning sun slanting through the window above the sink. His eyes drifted down the body he’d dreamed about all night. She wore a short white terry cloth bathrobe that covered everything but a swath of cleavage and her long, lean-muscled legs. As she watched her Eggo brown in the toaster oven, she folded her arms across her chest. She was probably trying to hide her assets, but the result was to press them together and amplify the cleavage.

“Syrup?” He held up the bottle, half-full now that he’d slathered his own waffle with butter and doused it in syrup. He’d already been out on Captain, checking the herd, and he was starving.

“Nope. Thanks.”

She shifted her wary gaze to the window. Yesterday, she’d been all confidence and spunk. Today she looked lost, like a kid someone had dumped out of their car on the highway. It was obvious she’d only accepted his hospitality as a last resort, and she’d probably spent a restless night worrying about her next move.

He wanted to tell her she didn’t have to make a move. That she could stay as long as she needed to. He hadn’t slept either, but it wasn’t because he’d regretted his invitation. It was because he couldn’t stop reliving that crazy hour they’d spent at the motel. He couldn’t erase the image of her naked body from his mind, couldn’t forget how she’d looked down at him through her lashes and mocked him, tempted him, trusted him.

Trust was the best part of it. When Lacey gave herself, she didn’t hold back, and in the motel she’d shown more of her true personality than he’d ever seen. Hell, he doubted anyone had ever seen that side of Lacey.

He hoped not. He wanted it to be his, only his.

He’d tossed and turned the night away, wondering what would happen if he crossed the family room and tapped on her door. He was still thinking about it, but he needed to stop. Needed to focus.

“Well, I’d better get started.” He brushed his hands on the thighs of his jeans. “Lots to do today.”

“Hold on.” Lacey snatched the waffle out of the toaster and bit into it like a giant cookie, holding up a finger while she chewed and swallowed. “I’ll be right there. You mind if I, um, freshen up first?”

He shrugged. “No problem. But the horses and cows don’t care what you look like.”

She snorted a very unladylike snort. “I’m not prettying up. At this point, I think it’s clear I don’t care what I look like either.” She ran a hand through her tousled hair. Obviously, she didn’t realize that her just-out-of-bed look was far more of a turn-on for him than anything she could do with brushes and makeup.

“I’ll wait.” He let his hip slant against the counter as he fished the next waffle out of the toaster. “Take your time.”

When she emerged from the powder room off the kitchen, her face was pink and fresh from a splash of cold water and she’d finger combed her hair into a knot at the nape of her neck. She was right—she wasn’t Little Miss Perfect anymore. She was something far more real. He’d always admired Lacey for her shiny hair and perfect clothes, but surprisingly, he liked this new incarnation even better. There was something earthy about her—something feminine but strong.

Maybe ranch work would suit her better than she realized.

***

“You can’t wear those shoes,” Chase said, pointing down at Lacey’s Asics running shoes.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind if they get dirty.”

“I bet you mind if a horse steps on your foot and breaks your toe.”

She paled. “I’m going to be that close?”

She realized she was being stupid the minute the words came out. Of course she was going to be close to the horses. She was working on a ranch.

“I thought you said you liked horses.”

“I do. I think they’re pretty. But I’ve never been close to one.”

He gulped, clearly swallowing a curse. Maybe this wasn’t going to be a dream come true after all.

“I’ll learn, Chase.”

“Let’s hope.”

His tone made her stiffen. She’d show him. She’d be fine. She’d probably be good with the horses. How hard could it be? She liked animals. And horses were just like big dogs. Really big dogs, with huge, heavy feet that could break your toe right through your running shoes.

She closed her eyes and willed herself to stop thinking about their feet. She pictured Black Beauty. Seabiscuit. Misty of Chincoteague. Horses were wonderful. Magical. Like unicorns without the big pointy horn. She’d be fine.

Chase led her into the tack room, where a pair of scuffed brown cowboy boots were sitting next to a bale of hay. “Put these on. They’re Pam’s. She won’t mind.”

She sat down and toed off her shoes, taking the boots from him and sliding her feet inside. Wow. Pam was cute and all, but she didn’t have feet; she had flippers. Tugging at the back of the boot, she slid her foot home and wiggled it from side to side, then slid on the other boot and stood up. Her feet were swimming in them, but she didn’t complain as she scuffled down the aisle after him. Hopefully she wouldn’t trip.

Trip and fall and land under a horse. And get her head crushed and die.

She squared her shoulders and tried to channel Scarlett O’Hara, remembering how her role model had driven a frightened team of carriage horses through the burning streets of Atlanta. You could do anything if you had to. It just took courage and determination.

They headed down a long, straw-strewn aisle. Ahead, horse’s heads protruded over the stall doors, watching their approach. The first one, a gray, lifted his head and let out a shrill whinny, and Lacey started. It was such a shrill noise, high and desperate. Like a battle cry, or a scream.

“We’re coming, bud,” Chase said in a soothing tone. “That’s Captain,” he told Lacey. “He’s always hungry. Likes a lot of attention.”

“He does that when he’s hungry?”

“Yup.” Chase stepped up to the horse, who was leaning against his stall door and blowing through his nose. “He’s like a two-year-old—a spoiled two-year-old.”

Lacey looked up at Captain. He seemed all black nostrils and bulging eyes, with veins standing out beneath his black-flecked silver pelt. He nodded his head and rolled his eyes, showing the whites as he kicked the stall with one foot. The noise seemed to ricochet around the barn, echoing in her ears.

She took a step back, but the horse stretched his neck and sniffed the air in front of her face with his nostrils distended. His breath seemed to roar like a dragon’s, and she couldn’t help taking another step back. Stumbling on the uneven floor, she fell against the stall door across the way, causing another smaller horse to snort and retreat into the stall with a shrill whinny.

She hadn’t expected them to be so big. So wild. So freaking scary. She’d figured handling horses would be hard, with lots to learn and remember, but she hadn’t expected this immediate, instinctive gut reaction. Her heart was pounding so fast and hard, she could barely catch her breath, and she felt chilled and sweaty all at the same time.

She was having a damn panic attack.

She leaned against the rough wood with one hand on her chest and struggled to catch her breath. It rasped as if someone had fastened a steel corset around her ribs and was tightening the straps more every second. She bent double and put the other hand to her forehead, closing her eyes and willing herself to
calm
down, calm down, calm down
. The fear spiraled and expanded in her chest, leaving room for nothing but panic and the faint fluttering pulse of her heart.

Chase was looking at her with more confusion than concern. “You okay?”

She closed her eyes tight for a second. Horses. Beautiful horses. Black Beauty, Seabiscuit, Misty. She recited the childhood icons like a mantra and sucked in a long breath, letting the oxygen flood her chest and surge up into her brain. It washed out the fear and pulled in courage. A stammering, stuttering, Cowardly Lion kind of courage, but courage nonetheless.

She straightened, ignoring the ache in her ribs and the dizziness that made her grab for the stall door behind her.

“Fine. Sorry. Got wobbly for a minute.” She forced a smile. “Guess I’ve been kind of stressed lately.”

He was staring at her, his eyes narrowed. “You going to be able to do this?”

“Of course I am.” She resisted the urge to wipe the clammy sweat from her forehead and hoped she didn’t look as weak and pale as she felt. “I’ll be fine.”

Chase swore to himself. This was a disaster. The woman was afraid of horses. Deathly afraid.

She was trying to cover it up, but Chase had seen her struggling for breath. She wasn’t just a little hesitant—she was terrified. Didn’t rich girls ride horses? How come her father didn’t buy her a pony? He’d bought her everything else.

This was hardly the scenario he’d pictured the night before, where he and Lacey had mounted up and galloped into the sunset. He’d thought today might start a new life, a better life for both of them. Instead, it was going to be an ordeal.

She watched him, wide-eyed, as he clipped a lead to Captain’s halter and led the horse past her to the hitching post outside the barn. Jimbo was already there, tacked up and ready to go.

He tied Captain with quick, vicious gestures. The rope lashed in his angry hands and almost hit the horse. Damn. This was getting to him. He was never careless with the animals.

This was more than disappointment; it was anger. He always felt this way when his careful plans were foiled, when the future he’d counted on went astray.

Maybe Lacey wasn’t the spoiled one. Maybe he was. He took a deep breath, clenching his fists, then unclenching them, calling up his calmer, better self. This wasn’t Lacey’s fault. Her fear of the horses was clearly visceral—not a conscious reaction, but something from deep inside.

He swore under his breath. He’d treasured the dream of them riding together. He’d expected it to come true today.

And he wasn’t going to give it up. Lacey wouldn’t want to stay if she couldn’t be useful, and she wouldn’t be useful if she couldn’t handle the horses. It wasn’t like there was anything else for her to do. There wasn’t enough housework to keep a child busy; it was just him in the big house, and he did okay cleaning up after himself. The cattle took care of themselves most days, and yard work wasn’t an option either. He glanced out the barn door at the brown, crumpled grass surrounding the house. Landscaping was hardly a priority in this dry country. You didn’t have to mow grass that wouldn’t grow.

“I can do it. I can do it.”
He didn’t know if she was talking to him or trying to convince herself. She gripped the stall door behind her, her fingers white on the rough wood like she was holding herself up by sheer will. Her face was still pale, with a sheen of nervous sweat glossing her forehead.

“I’ll be fine.” Her eyes flickered toward Captain, wary and fearful, but her jaw was clenched in a rigid line he’d learned to interpret as her stubborn streak. “He just… surprised me.”

At least she wasn’t running away. Maybe there was hope—but it wasn’t going to be easy. Having a tense, fearful person around would be hard on the horses. They were sensitive to the mood of their handler, picking up on tension as they could see into your mind. You could fake it all you wanted; horses knew what you were feeling. Lacey wasn’t going to be able to coast through this on courage; she needed to really conquer her fear.

Captain shifted and whinnied again. Lacey jumped, then shook her head and smoothed her hands down her thighs. Chase suspected her palms were sweating.

“Okay. Come here.” He took her hand and led her over to a spot just outside the tack room door where he’d lined up a few bales of straw against the wall. “Sit down.”

She lowered herself onto the straw and tried to pull her hand away, but he tightened his grip and forced her to face him. “Let’s talk about this.”

“It’s okay.” She tried to pull her hand away again. “I can do it.”

“You can’t fake this, Lacey. Horses are sensitive. They can feel what you’re thinking. You’re going to make them nervous, and then they really
are
dangerous. So let’s talk it through.”

She bit her lip and looked doubtfully over his shoulder toward the horses, who were watching them curiously from their stalls. Captain seemed to sense something was wrong; he’d gone quiet, but his ears were pricked and alert.

“What is it that scares you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Horses, apparently.”

“But what is it about them?”

“They’re so—so
big.
And they seem—I don’t know—nervous.” She shrugged, her eyes tearing up. “It’s stupid. People deal with them every day.
You
deal with them every day. I know there’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s just—it’s
in
me. I’m afraid of the stupidest things, Chase. Men sometimes, like Wade, and being alone.”

“That’s not stupid,” he said. “You should be afraid of Wade. He’s a psycho.”

She shrugged. “I guess. But I’m afraid of everything. Cocktail party crowds. Subway trains. Flashing lights.” She sighed. “Horses are just the latest thing on the list.”

“What are you afraid is going to happen with the horses?” He edged closer to her. “What’s the worst-case scenario?”

She looked down at her hands, both of them now held in his. “I guess I’m afraid they’re going to hurt me. Kick me or bite me or something.”

“Okay. Come on.” He led her over to Captain, but as they neared the hitching post, she stepped back and stumbled, her hand to her throat. Chase could tell she was trying to control her breathing, and he suspected her heart was galloping like the horses she was so afraid of. But she caught herself and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, she seemed to have regained some control.

Chase had never had a panic attack in his life. Maybe he was too dumb to be scared of stuff—he’d had enough close calls to prove that theory. But he could sense how hard Lacey was trying.

“Look.” He lifted the animal’s upper lip, displaying a yellowed row of square, straight teeth. “He’s not made for biting. Some horses nip, but it’s a vice—something you can train them out of. I can guarantee my horses won’t bite you. That’s a promise.”

He walked around the horse in a circle, setting his hand on the animal’s rump as he passed his hindquarters. “He won’t kick you either, as long as you don’t surprise him. And if you stand close, he can’t get any power behind a kick anyway. You just have to be careful he knows where you are, that’s all. Just talk to him.”

“But…” She shook her head.

“But what? Tell me.”

“I know it’s stupid, but if you’re that close, he might step on you.”

Chase leaned into Captain’s shoulder, and the horse stepped aside. “He’s easy to move. They move away from pressure, so all you have to do is give him a push if they’re clumsy enough to step on you. Come on. Get to know him a little. Pet him. Honest, he won’t hurt you.”

Lacey took a tentative step toward the horse, then another. “Go on,” he urged.

She lifted a hand to stroke the horse’s long muzzle. She was shaking slightly, and the horse blew out a nervous raspberry, making her jerk her hand away.

“Sorry,” she said.

“It’s okay. What you have to remember is that horses are flight animals. Their instinct is to run from what they fear.”

“Hey, we have a lot in common.” Lacey’s smile trembled at the edges, but at least she was smiling. “I’m a flight animal too.”

She reached up and stroked the back of one finger over the smooth velvet pelt. Chase had the feeling that she saw herself as a fairy-tale princess taming a fire-breathing dragon, when really old Captain could be trusted with toddlers.

He stepped up behind her and lifted her arm, smoothing her palm down the length of the horse’s muzzle. Despite the realization that she might never be the cowgirl he wanted and needed, he couldn’t keep himself from responding to her nearness. Guiding her hand meant he was snugged behind her, her back flush against his chest, and his body was enjoying the experience even as his brain struggled to resist. A surge of arousal threatened to hijack his good sense, and he almost stepped back, but he didn’t want to make a sudden move and scare the horse. Or Lacey.

She brushed against him as she hiked herself up on tiptoe to reach the crest of Captain’s neck, just behind his ears. She really was a small woman. Maybe it was a little scary when the horse dwarfed you like that. He drew in a slow breath, willing himself to be patient.

“Good boy,” Lacey said again. She moved her hand slowly down Captain’s neck, her forehead furrowed in concentration, her lower lip trapped between her teeth. She glanced back at Chase. “How am I doing?”

“Fine.” He thought a moment. The only fear he could remember was fear of water when he was practically a baby. Wading, splashing around in shallow water, and easing his way in hadn’t helped; his fear had remained until his dad tossed him in the deep end. Maybe that’s what he needed to do for Lacey. He stepped into the barn and hefted a saddle from a sawhorse just inside the door. “You ready to go for a ride?”