Chapter Three
Levi
“T his is why cowboys should stick to doing what cowboys do best and stay away from science,” Otto Hart complained. “I don’t need to explain anything. The results speak for themselves.”
Levi and Otto were sharing beer and shooting the breeze, watching the descending sun slowly cross paths with the moon as night opened its eyes. The ragged edges of the sky turned burgundy as red bled into endless miles of deep blue. Venus, the brightest pinpoint of light, appeared first, followed by Canopus.
Otto, a skinny old man well into his eighties, who personified the word grizzled , owned a large parcel of land smack in the middle of the Endeavour Ranch. Ryan O’Connell had been trying to buy it from him for a year and a half now, but Otto wouldn’t budge.
He’d built the one-room log cabin with his own hands when he was a young man. He and Levi relaxed in hand-bent willow rockers on the cabin’s wide porch, under the overhang of the hand-shingled roof. They had a good view of the mountains, the prairies, and the gravel road that saw little traffic. Warm wind stirred the grass and picked at their hair.
Otto’s horses, and the secondary subject of his complaint—Levi taking first place—grazed in a pasture nearby. If Levi were to hazard a guess, he’d say ten of the warmbloods were worth a minimum of fifty thousand dollars each. The stud was likely closer to a hundred. The remaining twenty or so in the herd could easily net twenty thousand or more.
What was stored in Otto’s head was the real moneymaker, however. And Otto cared nothing for money. His land, his horses, and his house… Those were his loves. He never haggled over money. If a buyer wanted to purchase his stock, they had to prove themselves worthy before he’d even consider their offer. He priced his horses high so that they’d be valued. He also had an intense dislike of Tennessee Walkers as a breed, and therefore nothing but disdain for Ryan, a hobbyist who raised them.
Levi’s specialty was cattle, which was why the Endeavour had hired him for their bull breeding program. He’d earned his master’s degree in animal genetics at Columbia University but dropped out of the PhD program in his second year. He’d missed Montana, and Grand in particular, and couldn’t see how that last piece of paper and a few extra letters after his name would contribute financially to his return, which was his goal. Already, he could name his price at any one of the stock contractors in the state. The Endeavour had met it, with a bonus thrown in, so Levi understood Otto’s position on value.
“All I’m saying is that you should find a way to record what you feed your stock, and the breeding characteristics you look for, along with your successes and failures, so that the knowledge doesn’t die with you.”
“What do I care if it does? I’ll be dead,” Otto countered. “My only concern is finding someone to look after the horses I got after I’m gone.”
This particular argument had passed beyond hypothetical about three months ago. Levi was genuinely concerned for his old friend, which was why he now dropped in daily, at chore time, to lend a hand in exchange for a beer. Otto had a persistent and worsening cough, shortness of breath, and a gray patina to his skin that had nothing to do with how grizzled he was. He’d also never seen a doctor in his life since the day he was born, and refused to see one now, despite Dr. Dallas Tucker living next door. Everyone liked Dallie.
Except Otto.
The conversation had begun with a subject that interested them both. Otto possessed well-above average intelligence and an amazing capacity to retain information. Horses purchased from him had become the subjects of numerous studies that showed a lung capacity to body mass ratio exceeding the general rule. They made world-class barrel racers.
Levi’s research specialty was in the effects of diet on muscle and how the locomotive results influenced animal stress. His aim was to bulk up the bull without storing fat—but in a catch-22, burning fat also placed enormous stress on the bull. He wanted to minimize stress and improve locomotion without increasing animal aggression.
Otto had opinions on the subject. Good opinions. Excellent opinions, in fact. And a lifetime of ranching spent acquiring the relevant experience and knowledge to translate between the two species in a way no scientist specializing in one over the other ever could hope to accomplish.
Before Levi could decide whether to pursue his concern over Otto’s health or their mutual love of genetics, the rumble of an engine in the distance hijacked his attention.
He couldn’t imagine who would be traveling Otto’s barren gravel road when night was a mere finger-width on the skyline away. The road led the long way to nowhere, maintenance of it was indifferent, and if car trouble arose, cell phone reception was nonexistent. Power lines didn’t run out this far, either. Otto was off the grid and liked it that way. He kept a generator for the barn and a fuel tank for his truck and tractor. Levi carried one of the ranch’s long range, two-way radios on his hip whenever he came to visit, in case of emergency.
A half-ton truck hauling a long trailer chugged into view. It slowed down at the turn to Otto’s homestead. Levi set his empty bottle on one of the porch’s well-seasoned planks. A buyer. Had to be. One who didn’t know Otto well if they thought he’d be interested in doing business at nightfall.
Otto kept a loaded rifle inside the cabin’s front door, within easy reach. He had roughly a million dollars’ worth of unbranded stock that he’d had to defend a few times in the past. Levi hoped this wouldn’t be another one of those times—mostly because the county sheriff, Dan McKillop, was one of the three Endeavour Ranch owners and therefore one of his bosses. I swear, Dan. The homicide was justified.
Otto’s rocker ground to a halt. He tracked the newcomer’s progress without comment. Clenched eyebrows were enough to convey his opinion on having his evening ritual disturbed.
“Maybe you should let me do the talking,” Levi suggested.
Otto’s cheek twitched. “Go ahead. You can say no as well as me. I’ve got nothing for sale.”
The truck and trailer puffed and groaned to a stop. Bright headlights aimed on them made it impossible for Levi to see who was driving. The lights blinked out, the door opened, and a slight figure hopped off the truck’s running board. A woman. Long legs carried her toward the two men. Levi’s eyesight adjusted and his heart started pounding. Dana Barrett. What was she doing here? For a crazy moment, he thought maybe she’d come looking for him.
Then she saw him, and there was no mistaking her surprise. Or her sudden hesitation. She looked undecided, as if she might bolt.
But she wasn’t a coward. A few days ago, when he’d last seen her, she’d been disoriented and scared, yet she’d clung to her dignity and pride with a dogged fierceness he admired. Rightly so. She’d been the victim and the way he’d questioned her—as if she were to blame for a dangerous and frightening situation someone else had created—filled him with guilt. He’d wanted to drive home to her the importance of protecting herself, but what kind of world did they live in that a woman should have to? What happened to the good old days when a woman could rely on a man? When had men lost their decency?
Levi started to stand. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why she was here. He hated to send her away disappointed.
Otto waved him back into his chair. “Hold on. I’ll handle this one myself.”
Levi sat down.
Dana drew up, tucked her hands in her back pockets, and nodded a greeting. Whatever she might think about finding him here, other than that initial hesitation, she kept her opinion well hidden. “Gentlemen.”
“Dana,” Levi replied, returning her nod.
Otto looked from Dana to Levi. His eyes sharpened. “You two know each other?”
“Through Tanner,” Levi said.
“I see.” Otto’s attention reverted to Dana. “Evening, ma’am. I know why you’re here, but it’s getting late to be looking at horses.”
“There’s no need to look at them all.” Dana’s beautiful smile made the long shadows blink and back off. “I know which one I want, if she’s still available.”
“She is.”
It took Otto a few false starts to rise from his rocker. Levi stood too, although he would never insult him by lending a hand that wasn’t requested.
“I should be going,” Levi said. Dana’s business with Otto was none of his.
“Not so fast. I need you to go round up that buckskin mare for me,” Otto said.
“Tanoa? The five-year-old?”
“Miss Barrett spoke for her three years ago.”
The choice came as a surprise. Tanoa was one of the ten horses in the fifty-thousand-dollar value range. Otto had turned down two good offers for her in recent months. While Dana was a decent barrel racer, who could be a lot better with the right horse, she couldn’t possibly have saved up that much money from her winnings alone. Tanner hadn’t left her anything, that was for certain. He’d been in debt to his parents. They’d inherited what little he owned and used the insurance money to retire to Florida.
Despite its name and historic ambitions, Grand was a small town. It was impossible not to know at least a little of everyone’s business, and the Shannahans made for good gossip. People had expected great things from Tanner.
Levi snagged a rope halter from a hook on the cabin’s exterior wall. Dana trailed him as far as the fence surrounding the pasture. He pried two strands of barbwire apart and eased a leg through the gap, then the rest of his body.
He pressed one foot on the bottom wire to increase the size of the gap while keeping it open. “Coming?”
“Sure.”
She ducked through the gap and joined him in the pasture. Purple-tipped alfalfa brushed against the legs of her jeans. They stood so close for a second that he could smell the clean, sharp scent of saddle soap mingled with the softer, flowery scent of shampoo. The fading light stroked her cheeks and framed how pretty she was with its fingers. Levi’s throat closed. Desire licked the length of his spine with its tongue. Tanner had been prouder of winning her over than all the buckles he’d acquired strung together. No wonder.
She put a few steps of distance between them. “I never really thanked you for coming to my rescue. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I couldn’t remember anything that happened. I still don’t.” Beautiful eyes locked with his. “The one thing I do remember is how relieved I was when you showed up. I knew something was wrong and I couldn’t stop it. If I came across as ungrateful, I’m sorry.”
He couldn’t tear his eyes away from hers. He could see how much the apology cost her. She didn’t like to show weakness. Which only strengthened a near visceral need to protect her, no matter how much she’d hate it.
“I probably didn’t pick the best time to give you a lecture on stranger danger,” he said.
Full lips wobbled between natural reserve and a smile. “No. You did not. Even on a good day, no one likes to hear how they were stupid.”
“You weren’t stupid. You were at a rodeo-sanctioned event, and you had a right to feel safe.” He’d filed a complaint with the committee about it too, although he’d left her name out, because there was a predator out there somewhere. He hadn’t been able to leave it alone. What if some other woman wasn’t as lucky as Dana? “Let’s go catch your horse.”
With the change in subject, some of the stiffness leached out of her body. “She’s not my horse yet. What are the chances of Mr. Hart allowing me to set up a payment plan?”
A half hour ago, Levi would have said slim to none. Now? He wasn’t so sure. Even though he’d never known Otto to be swayed by a pretty face, any more than he could be by money, he’d saved her a valuable horse. Obviously, there was something more than her face that he liked.
Levi could understand. He’d once taken a history course in college. The professor had talked about the forgotten middle-class pioneer women who’d helped settle the state of Montana. They’d been stoic but feminine in a period when the emulation of men in their manners or dress was viewed as the safer and easier path. They’d turned their homesteads into homes, using furniture and wallpaper and whitewash. They’d kept up with the latest in fashion and style through letters and catalogs from family and friends left behind. Maintaining appearances helped them adapt to their new lives without losing touch with their pasts.
Dana reminded him of those early pioneer women—not so much in her sense of style as in her stoicism and femininity and sheer strength of will. That was why her relationship with Tanner had never made a whole lot of sense to him. Tanner, while a great guy and an excellent friend, had been a big kid at heart. His twin sister Tate had driven his career, making sure he turned up at the right events, and keeping his finances in order. She’d acted as his agent, his publicist, and she’d been more mother than sister to him.
Levi couldn’t imagine Dana, with her strong streak of independence, playing a similar role in Tanner’s life—she deserved a partner with the same sort of strength, not a golden boy who’d needed a mother. He had to admit though, they’d made a beautiful couple.
But as for the chances of Otto letting her set up a payment plan for one of his coveted horses?
Otto was watching them closely from the porch of his cabin, likely double-checking how Dana and Tanoa interacted—meaning Levi would have to make sure things went well.
“Since Otto has already agreed to sell you a horse, it won’t hurt to ask,” he said. He held up the rope. “Let’s see if we can get a halter on her.”
*
Dana
Dana had fallen in love with Tanoa at first sight—but that was a few years ago and she had to make sure they were still a good match for each other. While she understood that Otto Hart was giving her a great deal on a valuable horse, at thirty-five thousand dollars, this would be the biggest single investment she had ever made in her career.
That was why she’d been too impatient to wait until morning. She had a two-hour drive to look forward to after this. Lady traveled like a trooper, but she’d been cooped up in the trailer for hours and Dana wanted to get her home to her dad’s stable in Billings. He’d be waiting for them. Her mother would have her favorite foods ready. She could sleep in her own bed. She also needed to work with Crackerjack for a few days to get him ready for the next rodeo.
She followed Levi, whose long legs maneuvered the chewed-up, clumpy pastureland without breaking stride. His careless grasp on the halter spoke of a man well used to handling horses. He carried the two-way radio holstered on his hip the way an old-time gunslinger carried a pistol. A hot rush of lust caught her off-guard.
She should have known he’d be too much of a gentleman to hold her poor behavior against her. She chalked up the sudden curiosity as to what he’d be like in bed—if he’d be as gentlemanly as he presented himself—to her three-year lack of a sex life.
Levi Harrington had always been somewhat of a puzzle to her. He’d made an unlikely best friend for Tanner, who’d been as reckless as Levi was cautious. And yet both men held a particular appeal. They carried themselves with old-world panache, something Dana admired. They didn’t give a damn what the modern world thought. They were smart. They were intent on their mutual careers. She liked those traits in a man.
Sexually, the appeal was there, too. Both men were beautiful in a similar way. Blond, blue-eyed, with a wild ruggedness that came from working outdoors and not in a gym. With Tanner, sex had burned hot from the very beginning. They’d spent a great deal of their time together in bed and she missed it.
Sex alone, however, hadn’t proven nearly enough. Tanner was too used to getting his own way. His twin sister Tate had played too large a role in his life—too much for Dana’s comfort, even though she liked Tate well enough.
She hadn’t liked his parents at all. They’d shown their true colors when they arrived unannounced after the funeral to claim what few of Tanner’s personal belongings she’d had in her possession. They’d acted as if she were stealing from them. With parents like that, no wonder Tanner and Tate stuck so close together.
The biggest difference she’d seen between Levi and Tanner, however, was that Levi was straightforward and honest. He saw the big picture. He had long-term goals. Tanner had lived for the moment without a thought for the consequences of his behavior.
No one liked being manipulated and trapped. Not Dana, for sure. Whenever people sang Tanner’s praises to her, as if she needed the comfort, all the old anger resurfaced and there wasn’t a damned thing she could do other than redirect it.
Taking it out on Levi because he’d been friends with Tanner was wrong. Her eyes slid from his broad shoulders to the denim secured by his belt, then lingered a long moment on the hard muscles his jeans couldn’t hide. She frowned. Continuing to wonder what he’d be like in bed was likely wrong, too.
She dropped her gaze to the ground and watched where she stepped. She’d have to get her gratification somewhere else. Someplace where nobody knew her. Definitely somewhere that was nowhere near Grand, Montana, the birthplace of Tanner Shannahan, champion bull-riding hopeful, and home to the Shannahan clan. If not for the lure of Tanoa, Dana would never have come here.
Levi stopped. “Hey, darlin’,” he said.
For a startled second, she thought he was talking to her. Then she saw they were surrounded by horses. So much beauty and power in one place stole her breath, reminding her of why Otto Hart was so famous and how lucky she was.
Tanoa had nuzzled up to a gorgeous blood bay mare. Her bright buckskin coat gleamed deep gold against her partner’s dark red. Twin black tails flicked in tandem as they picked at the grass with a blithe lack of concern for the human invaders.
Dana longed to approach Tanoa herself, but the horses clearly knew Levi and were at ease around him, so she hung back and let him take the lead. He kept the halter in Tanoa’s line of sight while he approached her. She responded by turning her head toward him and emitting a soft whinny of greeting. He stretched out his free palm and rubbed her nose, and she nudged him, bumping his chest, then blew air in his face. The blood bay jostled Tanoa aside, seeking out her share of his attention. Dana’s heart squeezed tight with delight. How could anyone not appreciate a man horses adored?
He slipped the halter on Tanoa and gestured for Dana to join them. The other mare dropped her jaw on his shoulder, refusing to allow him to ignore her. He handed Tanoa’s lead line to Dana.
“This is Nova,” he said, stroking the blood bay’s neck in a way that made Dana shudder by proxy with joy. “She can be a little jealous of my affection.”
No wonder. If Levi ever smiled at a woman the way he smiled at Nova, he’d have them both eating out of his hand.
But right now, Dana only had eyes for Tanoa. She had no idea if the buckskin remembered her, but either way, she was exceedingly friendly. It was one of the reasons Dana had fallen in love with her. She snuffled Dana’s hair and looted her shirt pocket, which held four peppermints she’d intended to use as a bribe.
“If you want to grab your saddle, you should have enough light left for a ride around the pasture,” Levi suggested.
“Is that okay with Mr. Hart?” The breeder watched them from the front stoop of the cabin. It was too far for Dana to be able to judge what his thoughts might be on the matter.
“It’s fine.”
If Levi was on good terms with Nova, then he was on equally good terms with Otto Hart, but Dana wasn’t about to take any chances. “I’d rather check with him first.”
She led Tanoa to the log cabin, where she got her permission, then had Levi hold the horse while she got her gear from the back of her truck. He helped get the pad and saddle in place because Tanoa handled better for him on such short acquaintance.
Once the tie strap was tightened, Dana set one boot in the stirrup and swung her weight into the saddle. She ran a hand over Tanoa’s glorious golden coat, felt the twitching of muscles beneath it, and felt a pang of guilt over her disloyalty to Lady. As much as she loved her, in speed and agility terms, the two animals were as much alike as a Porsche and a Beetle.
After a round of the pasture, and with daylight fast giving out on her, Dana’s mind was made up. She had twenty thousand dollars in savings. She’d find a way to come up with the remaining fifteen, even if she had to sell both Lady and Crackerjack.
Neither one of us is going to Las Vegas.
She’d see about that.