Chapter Twenty-Three
brEANNA
THE BAY colt watches me suspiciously as I step into his stall. He’s one of Marley’s. He’s beautiful, but he was also mistreated. Marley says he can definitely be rehabilitated with some TLC, he just hasn’t gotten that yet.
She got him a couple of days ago, but she noticed one of his eyes tearing up when he was dropped off. Yesterday, he started holding the eye closed, so she brought him to me.
Poor guy doesn’t know what it is to trust people, and his coat twitches as I step closer. He’s been okay with me moving close if I do it slow, and he seems to respond well, with mild huffs of dubiety if I keep my voice soft.
“Hey boy, how you feelin’ this morning?” I say it low.
When I’m about two feet away from him, he jerks his head up just enough to let me know I’m close enough. I’ve watched Marley work her magic on horses since I was a kid, so I stop, keeping my body relaxed as we look at each other.
“You gonna let me look at that eye? I promise you’ll feel better if you do.”
I stand still and relax, softening my movements and my face, letting my body speak louder than my words. Horses notice everything, even the slightest little hint of anxiety.
Twitching his tail, he turns his head a bit to look at me with his good eye. I swear sometimes that horses are kindred spirits wrapped in orneriness and affection, and I think they understand everything we say.
Another thing Marley told me is that he doesn’t like baseball caps. She had to take hers off to get close enough to lead him from the trailer when she got him. So, I pulled my hair into a ponytail this morning, and it didn’t take long for the flyaways to stand out around my head.
Creeping forward an inch at a time, he watches me, but he lets me get closer.
Slowly lifting my hand in front of me at his level, I wait to see if he’ll accept my offer to touch him.
It takes a few minutes of holding still, his dark eyes deciding if I’m worthy of his trust, before he huffs and softly bumps his nose against my palm.
“Good boy.” I coo as I curl my fingers to scratch the prickly softness of his nose. “See, scratches feel good.”
He wouldn’t let me look at his eye yesterday, so I spent the evening hanging around his stall and talking to him so he might get used to me. I don’t want to give him a sedative just to look at it, but if he won’t let me do anything this morning, I’ll have to sedate him later today.
As I scratch his nose, I get a closer look at the weeping eye. Yep, the eyelid is a bit swollen and there’s redness.
Marley put a breakaway halter on him before she dropped him off. Apparently, ropes and leads make him jumpy, probably from being hit too many times, so the less he has to be exposed to putting on and taking off tack is probably better.
Before I stepped into his stall, I attached a rolled-up lead to my belt so I could slowly attach the clip to his halter without a lot of exposure to the rope. He just needs to know I won’t hurt him, it’s Marley’s job to teach him ropes and hats aren’t bad.
He’s relaxed enough that he’s lowered his head, but his tail is still swishing a little. I can work with this. At this rate, I may not have to give him a sedative.
“Do you think they’re in here?” I hear Koda’s voice outside in the breezeway. They’re early.
The colt’s ears twitch back some and his head jerks a little toward the door. When the door swings open, he pulls his head out of my grasp. I let him.
“Whoa, boy.” I keep the lead in my grasp, but I don’t tighten the slack.
Koda walks into the stables like a normal, high-energy boy, but it could be considered a run to the jumpy colt, and he jerks away from me, backing further into his stall.
“Stop,” I hear Mato say softly to Koda, but I don’t take my eyes off the horse. After spending the first part of his life at our ranch, I’m sure Mato knew exactly what was happening when he walked in the door.
“Shh, shh,” I try to shush him, but his focus is on the two male strangers who just walked through the door.
Apparently, he doesn’t like men either. He snorts, and I think he’s going to move to the side and try to anticipate his movement, but he rears up instead, and I lose my footing when I take a step back, falling on my ass, my teeth clicking together.
In the next second, a powerful arm is around my ribs, and I’m jerked up and back out of the stall. Mato holds me to his side, my back to half of his front, as he grabs the door to the stall and pushes it closed.
The colt is stomping his foot and watching us as he paces. Looks like I’ll be giving him a sedative this afternoon, anyway.
I’m no stranger to jumpy horses, and I’ve been knocked down and fallen off more times than I can count, so I’m not scared. But I am disappointed that my hard work warming him up to me was just wiped away with a door being opened.
When Mato pulled me up, my hands grabbed his forearm, and they’re still there. The muscle under my palms is hard and flexed, the veins visible beneath the skin. Turning my head to the side, I look up over my shoulder into a worried set of brown eyes trained on me.
“You okay?” His arm around me is still tight, and I pat his hand to let him know he can release me as I try to pull away. He hesitates, but he does.
“Yeah, I was hoping to treat him without giving him anything, but it doesn’t look like that’s gonna happen.”
Stepping away, I turn to face him, and he grabs my shoulders, looking me up and down. “You fell pretty hard, you sure you’re okay?”
He looks worried, and the heat from his palms is soaking through my shirt, warming my skin, concern is radiating from him. I’d forgotten how protective he is, but I guess that was easy enough to do after telling myself he didn’t love me every day.
Cocking a brow, I say, “I’ve been bumped around by horses since I was a kid, this is nothing new. I’m fine.”
Some of the worry slips from his face, and he smiles. “Famous last words.”
Remembering that Koda is here, and was the reason the horse got spooked, I lean to the side to look around Mato’s broad form, but he’s not there. A quick scan of the room doesn’t find him. “Where’s Koda?”
Mato turns around and does the same thing I just did, and we both walk to the open door that leads to the breezeway. We find him sitting next to the entrance to the main building on the other side, his back against the wall and hugging his knees to his chest.
When he sees us come out the door, he drops his head as if he’s in trouble and avoids eye contact. Mato starts to walk to him, but I grab his wrist to stop him. He looks down at me, and I walk to him instead.
Sliding down the door until our hips are almost touching, I assume the same position and playfully bump Koda’s shoulder with mine. He turns his head just a little, his eyes looking at my leg, but not at me.
His voice is small. “Did he hurt you?”
I shake my head. “Nope. You wanna to guess how many times I’ve either been knocked over or fell off a horse?”
This time, when he turns his head in my direction, he looks up at me sheepishly out of the corner of his eye. “Ten?”
I shake my head again. “Not even close. It’s happened so many times I’ve lost count.”
Narrowing his eyes, he’s trying to decide if he believes me. “Really?”
“Really. I grew up on a ranch, I was younger than you the first time I fell off my brother’s horse.”
His head is all the way up now, his eyes wide with curiosity. “Did you get hurt?”
“One time, I broke my arm, had to wear a cast for almost two months.” I hold my left arm up, bent at an angle as if it had a cast on it. “It was torture because my dad wouldn’t let me get on any of the horses until I healed.”
“But you still wanted to get back on them?”
Playfully jerking my head, I make my eyes wide. “Well, yeah. I love horses. And if you treat them right, they love you, too.”
His eyes cut across the breezeway to the stable. “What’s wrong with him?”
I shrug my shoulder. “He got bullied too many times, now he’s not sure he likes people so much.”
He nods, his eyes drifting away from me, and I wonder how often Koda is bullied. “Can you help him?”
Chuckling at him, I say, “That’s my sister’s area, I just fix ‘em up when they’re hurt.”
Silence stretches out for several moments, and I glance across the breezeway at Mato, who is leaning against the door we came out of, listening to the conversation.
His arms are crossed over his chest, and one ankle is resting over the other.
The thermal fabric of his long-sleeve henley is snug around his abs and stretched across the contours of his pecs.
He’s so big… and strong. And gorgeous.
As my gaze slides over his biceps, my cheeks flush, and I know I’ve been caught checking him out.
My eyes flick up to dark eyes intently watching me.
The heat in my cheeks is threatening to burn the skin off my face, and his lips twitch on one side.
Clearing my throat, I twist my head back toward the little boy next to me.
Koda’s eyes snap back to me, his brow wrinkled in confusion. “How does she help them?”
An idea pops into my head, and with embarrassment still fogging my thinking, I make the offer before I ask Mato if it’s a good idea. “Hey, I’m going to the ranch tomorrow for dinner with my family, you want to come and meet her?”
When his back straightens, eyes wide, and he says, “Really?” I realize my error.
Jerking my head in Mato’s direction, I wince. “Sorry, I can pick him up and take him home if you already have other plans.”
With a tiny shake of his head, he says, “My only plan was to be there. With you. I can pick him up.”
To be there. With you.
The hair on my arms stands up with goosebumps, and I tear my eyes from him to look at Koda. “It looks like you’re gonna meet my crazy family tomorrow. Do you need to ask your mom for permission first?”
His light brown eyes darken and he shakes his head. “She won’t care.”
I look at Mato in question, and he shakes his head again as he subtly lifts one hand from under his arm to hold it up in the ‘I’ll tell you later’ sign, so I nod.
“Well, we’ve got hungry puppies and I have plenty for you to do today. You ready?”
He nods with a smile and pushes himself up onto his feet.