Chapter 17 #2
Just as he opened his mouth to explain to The Malone that he needed to call Kenzie, now and not later, the man spoke.
Tone quiet and firm, he kept his focus on the ranch guests clambering into borrowed saddles on borrowed horses and having the best time doing it.
“Do you understand why she couldn’t leave your side, why she would have lied, cheated, stolen or worse to ensure she had a place there? ”
Ty started to answer, but Malone shook his head. “Think before you answer. Really think, Tyson.”
He rubbed his belly in an attempt to soothe his roiling gut. “She felt as if she could make it up to her brother for not being able to save him.”
Malone sighed. “You’re as big an idiot as I feared.” Shifting around to face Ty, he met and held his gaze. “There’s no do-over where Michael is concerned. There’s no ‘making it up to her brother.’ Her choices, all of them, were for you.”
Kenzie has his eyes.
It was all he could think. Well, that and the fact that he missed the hell out of her.
She’d been gone twenty-four hours and he wanted her back.
Here. With him. If it meant dealing with her overprotective old man in order to get to her, he’d do it.
He was going to find a way to pay her back every penny she’d spent plus interest. He wanted, needed her to know this had never been about money, that his wanting her here wasn’t to secure his financial future.
Sure, he was and would always be grateful she’d saved Gizmo’s life, but he hadn’t asked her to because of the balance in her bank account.
He had asked her because he trusted her to do what was necessary, to protect the one thing that meant something to him.
Gizmo. But that equation was no longer accurate.
Over the years, that one thing had become two.
He had his horse.
But now he wanted her.
Shock made him drop his arms. His jaw followed of its own accord.
He’d never wanted a woman in his space. He’d never wanted a woman in his home. He’d never...taken a woman in his own bed. No. Not a woman. The woman.
It had taken him years, a near tragic event and a painful recovery to realize what this woman meant to him.
He loved Mackenzie Malone.
The Malone was right. He was an idiot.
Seeing recognition set in, Kenzie’s dad nodded. “Took you long enough.” A small, somewhat sad smile emerged as he stood and offered Ty a hand. They faced each other, nothing but one woman in common. Malone nodded. “See you in Colorado,” he said softly. Then he started for his car.
“Thank you, Mr. Malone,” Ty called, running out of the barn, already thinking of what he needed to pack, how he’d handle the logistics and how fast he could get on the road.
Malone didn’t stop, just raised his hand in acknowledgment. “If I’m going to lose her to you, son, you might as well call me Jack.”
KENZIE HAD NO idea where her dad had gone, and her mom was a freaking vault on the subject, offering nothing more than “He had some business to take care of.”
So the first day Kenzie was home, she slept. All day. It had been months since she’d had a full night’s sleep, and she overindulged. Let the world call her a princess. She didn’t care. She’d earned the right to twenty-four hours of solid z’s.
She probably could have slept through the second day as well, but she forced herself out of bed.
She wanted to see Bean’s new foal and get the name recorded so the baby’s registration could be filed without delay.
She and her father had high hopes for this breeding between one of her program’s top mares and a new stud horse from Montana.
Grabbing a small bottle of orange juice as she passed through the kitchen, she also snagged her jacket off the hall tree and then headed outside.
The wind whipped across the plains, biting through her jeans as if they were made of tissue paper and chilling her straight to the bone. Her hand shook as she sipped her juice.
Should’ve grabbed coffee.
A door slammed somewhere ahead, the sound ferried by the wind.
She picked up her pace when she saw her dad’s pickup parked near the barn’s office.
With him in residence, the barn should have been a busy place.
It was vacant. Someone had left the door at the end of the stable alley open, though.
That had turned the alleyway into a wind tunnel, chilling the barn’s normally snug interior.
All four of the ranch’s border collies were curled up outside the office door, a sure sign her dad was inside. Those dogs followed The Malone everywhere. It was a standing joke around the place that while he was good with horses, he was magic with dogs. Truth was, he was magic with both of them.
She reached for the door, intent on letting herself in, then paused when she realized her father was talking to someone.
The wind made it impossible for her to make out the conversation, but one thing was very evident.
There were at least two men inside. Someone said something and then there was a third, distinctive voice.
Three men. One’s Dad.
Had to be horse business. Normally she’d be involved, but after her impromptu return home, he was probably giving her some recovery time. She stepped back over the sleeping dogs and made her way to Bean’s stall, stopping several times along the way to scratch a neck or rub an offered nose.
Bean moved to greet her with a soft whuffling noise and a gentle nudge to the shoulder.
Deeper in the maternity stall, movement caught Kenzie’s eye.
A tiny dark foal with a single white sock and a crooked facial blaze lurched to her feet.
Unsteady on spindly legs, the little blue roan made her way to her mother’s side, nosing the mare as she looked to nurse as a clear reward for her efforts.
She suckled for a moment and then turned her attention to the stranger who had captured her mother’s attention.
Without hesitation and sporting a jaunty step, the foal came forward as confident as could be and sniffed Kenzie’s proffered fingertips.
Her heart swelled. “You made a beautiful baby girl, Bean.”
The foal nibbled at her fingers, milk teeth blunt but definitely present.
“None of that,” Kenzie admonished. Reaching out, she stroked the silky blue-black coat, already dreaming of what the future might hold for such a self-assured little girl.
The possibilities seemed endless. It lifted Kenzie’s spirits when she’d privately despaired that Ty had broken something in her—something that would take a lifetime or more to repair.
Ty.
She missed him. Bad. But the potential between them had been destroyed, erased so efficiently it might have never existed after he kicked her out of his life.
The hurt swelled up, pressing against her heart.
Her vision blurred with unshed tears. She resented the fact that he could cast her aside as he had, that she was the one who bore all the hurt, all the blame, all of his anger in this.
Not for the first time, she wondered what Eli had told Ty, if anything, about the brothers’ proposition.
Had he confessed his own attempt to manipulate the situation?
Had he admitted to Ty that she’d shot him down?
Or had he taken the easy road and let her be the fall guy?
She’d never know, and that bothered her.
How long would she hurt; how long would it be before she stopped loving the man who’d broken her heart?
Bean nudged her again, demanding her attention.
“Sorry, baby.” Rubbing the mare’s head, she contemplated the foal. She’d need a strong name, something that would resonate on the rodeo circuit. Kenzie grinned. “Baby, you just got named. Lyssa Bean’s Domino Effect.”
“I like it.”
Kenzie physically jumped even as her heart stalled.
Startled, Bean moved between the stranger and her baby, laying her ears back and flicking her tail in agitation.
“Kenzie, please. At least face me.”
That voice. Heaven save me, that voice.
She shook her head.
Strong but gentle hands rested on her shoulders and encouraged her toward him anyway.
Her shoulders twitched.
His grip tightened.
She drew as deep a breath as her leaden lungs would hold and forced herself to meet the gaze of the man who’d broken her heart.
Tyson Covington.
He ran a hand down her arm and wrapped his fingers around hers. “I need to talk to you.”
“I, uh...” She cleared her throat, furious at herself for being so soft. “No.” She pulled her hand free and sidestepped him, heading for the safety of the office—and her father. “You were pretty clear, Tyson. I got it—get it. There’s nothing left to say.”
He caught up and stepped in front of her. “Yeah, actually there is.”
She tried to step around him again but he kept darting in front of her until she finally stopped, glaring at him. “Get out of my way. Or better yet, why don’t you try this on for size. It should be familiar enough. Get off my ranch.”
He winced.
The urge to comfort him made her want to scream. Shoving past him, she focused on her dad’s office door and picked up the pace, certain Ty wouldn’t dare move fast enough to catch her. He’d be too worried about reinjury.
That was the only excuse she had for squealing when his hot hand gripped her biceps and pulled her around to face him.
“Stop running.” The command was harsh and low.
“Oh, that’s rich coming from you,” she snapped, pulling free of his grasp. “You, who holds the record for the fastest bed-to-door sprint in the history of lovers worldwide. Go on, Tyson. Show me how it’s done.”
“In case you missed it, Malone, I ran to you, not away.”
Her retort stalled, tripping off the end of her tongue in something that sounded suspiciously like “Whumah-ah-ah.”