7
Good girl
Brandy-Lyn watched the man unhook the reins from the wooden post and lead Elsa away from the fence with a combination of jealousy and relief.
She had lost sleep fretting over how to connect with the headstrong mare.
None of the proven methods had worked. None.
Yet somehow this man had broken through the horse’s barriers.
“Where do you want her?” He stood a few feet away from her, his voice low, his attention still fully on Elsa as he continued his soothing stroking.
“Follow me.” She led the way back to the stables, acutely aware of the man behind her.
Since their collision, she had only seen him from a distance. Which suited her just fine, thank you very much. During those fourteen days (not that she was counting) she had talked herself into believing her acute attraction to the blasted man was imagined.
But no. That was a false belief.
The undivided attention he lavished on the mare …
The graceful moves of his stroking hand …
The rough, low timber of his voice as he murmured …
She wanted all of that.
Directed at her.
She shook her head free of the ridiculous notion and veered to the paddock Elsa shared with two older mares, Rain and Smokey, chosen as companions due to their calm temperaments. Both whinnied at their approach, and Elsa gave a short one in reply.
Opening the gate, she stepped aside, and he led Elsa through to the middle of the enclosure. Rain and Smokey ambled over. Rafferty removed the halter and gave the mare a pat. The horse swaggered away, not a care in the world.
But Brandy couldn’t say the same with the man stalking across the grass, anger radiating from him in waves. She took a wary step back, bumping against the gate.
“What the fuck, Brandy-Lyn?” he snarled, eyes blazing.
The metal frame dug into her back. “Wh-what do you mean?”
His one arm swung out, pointing behind him. “Her.”
She had never seen eyes blaze so hot. And she was clueless as to what his problem was. “Elsa broke away from me.”
He emitted a growly noise.
“Did you just growl at me?”
He leaned closer.
She arched farther back.
“Why. Is the horse. In that condition?” he bit out.
Her mouth dropped open.
Was he accusing …?
Indignation surged through her, and she lifted both her arms and shoved at his chest. And she leaned in. “You think I did that to her?”
“Your stables. Your horses.”
“Elsa’s a rescue , you moronic asshole,” she hissed.
He blinked. “A … rescue?”
“A rescue,” she repeated. “She’s only been here a few weeks.”
A sheepish look fell across his features. “Guess I made an assumption.”
“Ya think?”
Rafferty swept his fingers through his hair, hooking his hand behind his neck.
He opened his mouth, but she wasn’t done, cutting off whatever he was about to say. “I would never, never tolerate abuse of any kind in my stables.” She sucked in a breath. “Maybe before you make a judgment call, get the freaking facts.”
He stepped back. “You’re right. And I am sorry.” Turning to face the three horses, he asked. “What is her story?”
“Her history is uncertain. She was one of five removed from a kill buyer.”
His body spun back to her. “A kill buyer?” he gritted out.
“The man,” she spat, “was pulled over for a broken taillight, but the patrol officer became suspicious, opened the horse trailer, and found five horses jammed into a two-horse trailer. The man couldn’t produce ownership papers, and the horses were confiscated.
Turns out he ran a half-cocked business buying horses for slaughter, sourcing them from auctions and online sites.
The shelter where they ended up managed to rehome four, but Elsa was a challenge.
She hates humans. And hates confined spaces.
Point-blank refuses to be stabled, hence the shelter out here in the paddock. She’s been whipped, stabbed, and—”
Brandy stopped, noticing Rafferty’s stricken look. “God.” She reached out but he flinched at her touch, and she dropped her arm. “I rambled on without thinking. I am so—”
“Don’t you dare say you’re fucking sorry.” His voice cracked like a whip. “I’ve had enough pity to last a fucking lifetime.”
She flinched at the heat in his voice. She wasn’t opposed to cussing, but damn — the man could weaponize the f-word.
The sound of pounding hooves snapped her attention.
Elsa.
Galloping straight toward them.
Brandy lurched forward, arms raised to try and flag the horse, but Rafferty was faster.
He stepped in front of her, shoving her behind him with one arm while raising the other high, making himself big as he waved and shouted to redirect the animal’s path.
They both sprang sideways as the mare bore down, but at the last second, Elsa pivoted in a flawless rollback, flinging clumps of dirt and turf across his jeans.
The mare pranced off, tossing her head, full of herself.
Rafferty laughed out loud, grinning like a boy.
And just like that, her fright morphed back into irritation.
“What were you thinking?” she snapped, grabbing his arm and yanking him to face her.
“Wasn’t she incredible?” he said, eyes alight with wonder. “And don’t grouse at me — you were about to do the same thing, Red.”
“Don’t call me that.” She folded her arms and glared, barely resisting the urge to stomp her foot.
Their eyes locked. Brandy couldn’t look away.
He glanced down at her mouth. Then back up, gaze catching hers again, deep and still. She ran her tongue across her lips, her pulse thudding.
Elsa’s shrill whinny shattered the moment.
Brandy blinked, heart pounding.
Rafferty cleared his throat and scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “So,” he drawled, looking away. “Elsa broke away from you?”
They both watched the mare move closer.
“Yeah. She needs her hooves cleaned and trimmed and tolerated the haltering, but she balked when we entered the yard.” Brandy huffed. “And broke away.”
Elsa nudged her mouth against his clasped hand. He chuckled, reached up, and stroked her muzzle. “Not keen on a pedicure, huh, darlin’?”
Brandy watched in amazement as Elsa leaned into his caress.
The mare’s unconditional trust in Rafferty floored her.
And while she had the horse enthralled by the mesmerizing man, she’d use the opportunity to get the much-needed chore done. “Do you have a few minutes to help me with Elsa? Her hooves do need attention.”
Rafferty shot her a quick look. “Sure. Here or in the stable yard?”
“Yard. Maybe with you around, she’ll see it’s not such a scary place.” She unzipped her fanny pack and removed several of the treats she carried with her. “Incentive.”
He eyed the carrot chunks for a beat before placing his larger hand over hers, palming the contents. Turning back to the horse, he transferred one to his other hand and held out his palm. “Wanna take a walk with me, darlin’?” he asked, offering the treat.
Yes, please. Brandy sucked in a breath, surreptitiously rubbing her tingling palm over her hip while watching the horse eye his hand. And exhaled when Elsa closed her lips over the carrot.
“Good girl,” Rafferty cooed, offering a second piece.
There was no hesitation from the mare this time.
Rafferty chuckled. “Greedy, huh?” He walked to the gate, Elsa turning her head to follow his movements.
He unlatched it and whistled. And lo and behold, the horse responded, closing the distance.
She was rewarded with the last chunk and a, “Such a good girl,” praise.
He deftly re-haltered her and led Elsa from the paddock, giving Brandy a triumphant grin. “Where to?”
She snapped around and strode to the stable yard, keenly aware of the man and his mesmerizing voice flirting with the horse behind her.
Sort out Elsa’s hooves and then get rid of the man.
Getting the onerous task done wasn’t without battle. Elsa was not happy, but Rafferty managed to keep her calm enough for Brandy to complete the task. She released the final leg and straightened, wiping the back of her arm across her sweating forehead. “All done.”
“See, Elsa darlin’, that wasn’t so bad, huh?”
The horse stomped her hoof, whinnied, and took a step forward, clearly not agreeing with him. Laughing softly, he walked Elsa back to the paddock.
“Thanks for your help,” Brandy said, opening the gate for them.
“You’re welcome,” he replied with a panty-melting smile. He removed the halter and gave the horse a final rub. “You have a good day now, darlin’. And eat some oats,” he called out, Elsa trotting away.
“Didn’t take you long to slack off,” a loud voice accused from behind them.
They both swung around to see Aidan approach.
An angry Aidan.
“We’ve a downed fence, cattle escaping, and you stand here wastin’ time,” he continued. “My wife instructed me to go easy on you today—”
The man’s condemning tone got Brandy’s back up. “Now hang on a minute—”
Rafferty briefly touched her arm. “No use arguing with him.”
She swung to look at him. “But he—”
“It’s okay, Red,” he whispered. “Drop it.”
He shifted and got right up into Aidan’s space. “I don’t need any special treatment from you, brother. And certainly not today,” he spat. “Where’s the fence? I’ll get to it.”
“Check your cellphone,” Aidan snarled. “Sent you a text and coordinates hours ago.”
Rafferty patted his pockets, swearing under his breath. “Forgot it at home.” He aimed a quick look at Brandy. “Let me know if you need help with Elsa again.” With a scowl at Aidan, he marched off.
She hadn’t missed the despair on Rafferty’s features at Aidan’s harsh words. “What’s crawled up your ass?”
“Keep your distance from Rafferty. He’s nothin’ but trouble.”
She got right into his space. “He’s troubled, yes. But he’s not trouble . Not the way you are insinuating,” she added.
But in a way, Aidan was right.
Rafferty was trouble. Huge, honking, Texas-sized trouble. To her heart.
“Don’t fool yourself, Brandy-Lyn.”
And with that parting shot, Aidan stomped away.
“What’s significant about today?” she called after him.
He twisted back. “His wife died three years ago.”
Dismay flooded her, and she watched Aidan round the corner of the building. Not sure how long she just stood there staring into space, it was a loud neigh that broke her trance.
She turned around. Elsa stood at the fence, watching her. Brandy moved closer and reached up to rub the mare’s forehead. “Recognized another hurting soul, huh, Elsa? Maybe the two of you can heal together.”