Saddled hearts, p.10
Saddled Hearts, page 10
At thirty, she was two years older. “I’m sorry, Colt. That must have been hard. What happened to him?”
“He couldn’t handle my mother’s death. He became a severe alcoholic, then moved overseas to work. We lost track of him after that. When I turned fifteen, I started rodeoing. I rode broncs and got serious about going after the big purses when I turned eighteen. I took a few years out to go to college but still rodeoed in the summers. I figured I needed to learn something I could use to make a living when I got too busted up to compete.”
“And did you?” Her soft gaze seemed to see right through to his soul.
“Did I what? Learn something or get busted up?”
“Either. Or both.”
“The best way I know to describe rodeo is that it’s between almost happens and broken bones. In college, I majored in business. It’s been helpful in running this ranch and especially with the non-profit status of the horse sanctuary.”
“And the busted-up part?” She half smiled and snuggled deeper into the blanket.
“Yeah. That, too. The last time pretty much did it for me. I spent six weeks in a cast that went from my thigh down to my foot, then another six weeks in physical therapy. I had to be done. I miss it, but that’s a whole other story.”
The two dogs plopped down near the warmth of the fire.
“I can’t imagine riding a bucking horse. I’ve never even been on a horse except maybe a pony as a child.”
“Then I look forward to the pleasure of teaching you to ride.” He picked up a stray stick and tossed it into the fire. “That is, if you’d like to.”
“I would like that very much.”
“Great. I have the perfect horse for you. Her name is Minnie, and she is the gentlest animal on the place. She loves to mother the other horses. I’ve even caught her nuzzling newborn barn cats.”
“She sounds like a wonderful empath.” Sage twirled a loose strand of hair around her finger. “How did playing music come about for you?”
“As I said, I started rodeoing young, and at every rodeo, there would be a band. The guitar players fascinated me the most, but I loved all the music.” He drummed his fingers against his leg. “I talked my grandfather into getting me a guitar, and the rest is history. I started a band in college and have had one ever since.”
“I’d love to hear you play. When is your next show?”
“I’m putting together a benefit to raise money for the horse sanctuary in a few weeks. You should come.”
“I will. After dinner, would you get your guitar and play some?”
“A private concert, huh?” He flashed a grin. “I suppose I could do that. Can I ask you a personal question?” Colt downed the last bit of his wine.
“Of course.”
“This may sound crazy, but what is that fragrance you wear? I’ve been trying to identify it since I met you. At first, I thought it was like a field of wildflowers, but it’s something more than that.”
Sage laughed. “It’s patchouli.”
“Patchouli. I like that.” He pushed to his feet. “Gotta check on the steaks. I hope you’re half as hungry as I am.”
He turned the steaks, then lowered the grill lid.
While he’d never had any difficulty communicating with people, there was something about the genuine honesty Sage emanated that made it the most comfortable thing he’d ever done.
A line from one of his favorite songs flew through his mind about how easy it is to love someone when it’s genuine.
He’d always dreamed of that kind of love. Yet, over the years, he’d resigned himself to the fact it didn’t exist for him, except in songs or stories.
But what if he was wrong?
What if the white rune’s power was real and could bring people together for a happily ever after?
Time would tell, but for tonight, he was content to share the company of this astonishing woman.
Maybe Sage was right, and the whole purpose of Jeremiah Tompkins’ existence was to push Colt into going to see a medium.
He almost laughed aloud but didn’t want Sage to think he was a lunatic, so he chuckled softly to himself.
Life is such a funny thing. And you never know what or who might be around the next corner.
And that was what made it so intriguing. Colt had never been one to embrace predictability. It was one of the things he’d loved about crawling on the back of a pissed-off bucking bronc. You never knew which way the animal would twist or turn.
There was nothing predictable about Sage Coventry except for the sensual fragrance that floated around her.
He’d never met anyone like her.
And the thought of getting to know her—of discovering her hopes, dreams, wishes, and vulnerabilities—excited him.
Would it be crazy to think that maybe she’d feel the same?
A man could hope.
Chapter Fourteen
The warmth from the fire pit, along with the effects of the wine, soon had Sage discarding the blanket. She folded it and draped it on the back of an empty chair.
As she finished the last bite on her plate, Colt’s phone rang.
“Sorry. I have to take this. It’s the vet.”
Sage nodded.
“Hello.” Colt pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re kidding me. There is no way. Are you sure?”
After a pause, he thanked the vet and hung up.
“Another problem?” Sage set her plate on the table.
Colt jumped to his feet, eyes flashing. “The vet said the mare ingested a large amount of rat poison and suggested it was probably in her feed. I don’t see how that’s possible. I mostly grow my own, and what little I buy comes from reputable growers.”
“So you’re thinking someone purposely contaminated the food supply?”
He paced in front of the fire for a minute, then whirled. “There’s no other answer. I have to get all the hay out of the barn. I’m so sorry to end our evening like this.”
“Don’t apologize.” Sage stood. “Can I help?”
“You sure? It’s not going to be fun work.”
“I’m sure. I really don’t mind.” The truth was she wasn’t ready to go back to her empty house yet. She’d enjoyed Colt’s company and conversation.
“Okay. Grab that jacket off the back of my chair.” He punched numbers on his phone. “Hank. Meet me at the main barn. Got another damn problem.”
Colt strode with purpose into the house, stopping only long enough to deposit their dishes into the sink. He turned to Sage, who had followed him inside with their wine glasses. “You sure you want to do this?”
She shrugged into a jacket three sizes too big. “I’m sure.”
Minutes later, inside the barn, Colt flipped on the overhead lights. “We have to get the stalls cleaned out first. Hank’s on his way to help, but I’m letting the rest of the hands sleep. I’m gonna need them tomorrow.”
“You mean I have to go inside a stall with a horse?” She swallowed hard, hating to show her fear.
“Tell you what. Hank and I will clean the stalls. You work on pushing it all toward the door.”
“That’s a deal.” She breathed a sigh of relief. She simply wasn’t ready to step inside a small space with such a big animal.
He tossed her a large rake while he grabbed a shovel. Over the next two hours, with Hank’s help, they shoveled and raked until they had every speck of feed piled outside the barn.
While Colt and Hank methodically checked each horse for any signs of poisoning, Sage leaned her rake against the wall and rubbed her hands. No doubt there would be blisters in the morning.
She listened as the men discussed tomorrow’s chores, number one getting fresh hay for the horses.
Honestly, she’d enjoyed the physical exercise, despite the stench and hay dust that flew through the air. She was quite sure she had it caked inside each nostril. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t secretly loved watching the muscles ripple across Colt’s biceps with every scoop.
Once the men finished checking the horses, Hank lit a cigarette, said goodnight, then strode toward the bunkhouse. Colt turned to her. “Thank you for helping. I’m sure you’re not used to that kind of manual labor.”
Sage rubbed her left thumb. “I’ve got the beginnings of some blisters, but still, I’m happy I could help.”
“Dammit! I should have thought to get you some gloves.” Colt thrust his hands into his pockets.
How strange. Maybe he was resisting the urge to touch her. He grinned, which soon morphed into a chuckle, then ended in a full laugh. “You should see yourself.”
Sage glanced down. A streak of horse manure smeared across her shirt and jeans presented quite a horrid picture. Hay and horse poop caked the bottoms of her sneakers. She wrinkled her nose. “Oh, no. I am a full-out mess. I’ll have to get undressed before I get in my car, but I think it’s time for me to go home.”
“It’s late. You’re exhausted. Why don’t you stay here tonight? I have a guest room.”
Her breath hitched in her throat. “Stay here? At the ranch?”
“Yes. I promise it’s safe.”
“Oh, it’s not that.” She chewed her bottom lip. “I don’t have a toothbrush.”
“I keep some extra on hand for guests. Sometimes the band guys stay over when rehearsals go late.”
“I don’t have a change of clothes.”
By now, Colt had taken his hands out of his pockets and placed one on her arm. “Come on. Let’s go to the house and get you cleaned up.” He picked a piece of straw from her hair.
Well, he had a point. She could use a little washing, and then she’d go home.
She slipped off her shoes outside the back door. Glancing at Colt’s boots, it surprised her to see no debris on them. Maybe there was something magic about cowboy boots that repelled poop and hay.
Discarding the jacket on a nearby hook, she padded inside. “I don’t know how much good it will do, but I have to wash some of this off before I head home. Who knew raking hay could be such a dirty job?”
Colt flashed a grin. “I guess when you do it as long as I have, you don’t think about it.” He pointed toward the hallway. “You know where the bathroom is.”
She wondered how she could get enough of the stench off to get inside her car. Her pulse raced at the thought of spending the night in the muscled cowboy’s house. No, she needed to go home, and that was that. Besides, her cats would be missing her.
The light in the bathroom revealed more dirt than she’d first thought. There was no way to get the smears off her clothes, much less get rid of the smell.
What on earth was she going to do?
She scrubbed her hands and arms, then jumped when a knock resounded on the door.
Colt’s baritone voice vibrated against the wood. “I’m laying some clean clothes outside the door for you. Please take them.”
Waiting until his boot heels thudding against the floor disappeared, she cracked the door open and reached for the clothes, surprised to find a garbage bag neatly folded on top.
What the hell?
She unfolded a black T-shirt and a pair of men’s shorts—Colt’s clothes.
“Dammit,” she muttered. The stench coming from her clothing prompted her to shuck them. She’d deal with getting Colt’s clothes back to him later, but at least she could wear them home and not stink up her car.
Glancing at the shower, she made a quick decision and turned the water on full blast.
The idea of standing nude in Colt’s bathroom gave her a thrilling jolt. Maybe he’d stood naked in that same spot. Her mind went that direction way too easily.
She shook her head to clear the thoughts and ducked under the stream of warm water.
Within fifteen minutes, scrubbed clean, she slipped Colt’s shirt over her head and pulled on the shorts. Thank goodness there was a drawstring, or they would have fallen straight down to her ankles. As it was, they reached past her knees.
Giggling at the sight of herself, she gathered her wet hair into the scrunchy and grabbed the trash bag that now held her dirty clothes. She opened the door and padded down the hall.
Boots off, lounging in the living room, Colt raised his eyebrows at her. “Well, I never said I had anything that fits you, but at least they’re clean.” He held out an empty wine glass. “A nightcap?”
“What are you drinking?”
“Whiskey.”
“That’s what I’ll have, too. Then I really do have to get home. I can bring your clothes back later.”
Colt didn’t reply but reached for the whiskey bottle and poured two fingers into the empty wine glass. “Ever drink whiskey from a wine glass?”
“No. I can’t say that I have. I don’t normally drink anything stronger than wine.”
“But?”
“But I’m bone-tired, and whiskey sounds good.” She took a small sip and grimaced as the hot liquid slid down her throat. She sat across from Colt.
He leaned forward in his chair. “Let me see your hands.”
She spread her palms upward.
“Uh-huh. Just as I thought. You’re gonna have some blisters. I’m so sorry. I should have thought of gloves although I don’t have any that would fit your small hands.”
“It’s no big deal.”
Colt gently cradled her hands. His touch brought a tingle to the pit of her stomach.
“When I get home, I’ll doctor them with aloe vera and essential oils.”
He jumped to his feet. “I’ll be right back.” In nothing flat, he returned with a piece of an aloe vera leaf. “Here you go.”
“I swear, Colt Layne, you are full of surprises.” She took the leaf and tore it open. After she’d rubbed her palms and especially her thumbs, she leaned back and blew out a sigh. “Is there anything you don’t know or have?”
He dropped back onto the chair and ran his fingers through his thick brown hair, leaving pieces sticking up. He had no clue the sexy picture he painted.
“Lots.” He sipped his whiskey. “I have so many unanswered questions. If I dwell on them, I’ll go insane.”
“Like?”
“Like who in the hell posted my bail anonymously? Who framed me for Tompkins’ murder? Who poisoned the feed? Who hates me so much they would hurt my animals to get to me? And the even greater question, why?”
She twirled the amber liquid around in the glass and met his gaze. “All valid questions. I think when you find the answer to one, it will lead you to another.”
“I keep thinking I’ll find something in Pa’s journals if I can ever find a minute to start going through them.”
“Want some help? It wouldn’t cause blisters this time.”
What on God’s earth was she thinking? Offering to help would keep her there with him longer. Was that what her subconscious wanted? Or was it not a subconscious thought at all?
She had to be honest with herself. She’d enjoyed the glimpse into another world so opposite from hers. Colt had said almost those exact words about her world.
There was something undeniably refreshing about a simple life filled with animals and nature. But at the same time, it could turn sinister and dangerous. Like the handsome cowboy who sat across from her.
“I’d never refuse an offer for help. Especially from someone as beautiful as you.” Colt’s low voice drifted across the open space. He took another sip of the amber liquid and didn’t waver under her intense stare.
“You’re too kind, Colt. I haven’t felt attractive in such a long time. You’re making me remember.” She looked down at the wine glass and swirled the last sips of whiskey in the bottom. “I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”
He set his drink on a side table, knelt beside her chair, and then gently removed the glass from her hands. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Sage, I’m attracted to you. I can’t say what it means, but I like it. You’re a breath of fresh air. Sorry, but I’ve always had the problem of blurting out what I’m thinking.”
She let him cover her hands in his, leaned against the back of the chair, and closed her eyes.
When she opened them, she met his steady, honest gaze. “Let’s not rush this, cowboy. I’m feeling something too, but it’s way too soon to define it. I admire you, your strength, your sense of humor, and your dedication. Maybe that’s all. Maybe not.”
He pushed to his feet and placed a soft kiss on top of her head. “Maybe. Hey, how about a midnight snack? I’m gonna go throw a pizza in the oven.”
The moment was gone, but his honesty went straight to the deepest part of her heart.
She couldn’t deny her attraction to him, and the fact that he voiced it so effortlessly made her pulse race.
With all the maybes being thrown around, one thing was for certain. The tall, rugged cowboy had gotten under her skin. He awakened thoughts that had long been buried and forgotten.
If she believed in the things she preached to her clients about trusting the Universe, she’d embrace this new possibility.
What the hell! Maybe she would spend the night. The cats had an automatic feeder and would be just fine without her.
She’d created a vanilla life—isolated, colorless, and tasteless. Perhaps it was time to toss in a little spice.
The thought of waking up to coffee with Colt Layne would be the whipped cream with a cherry on top.
At that analogy, she forgot all about the exhaustion seeping through her bones and the blisters beginning to sting on her hands.
A wild jolt of electricity wove through her.
When had she last felt daring?
Perhaps it had been too long.
Time to take a chance on a once-in-a-lifetime encounter that may never come again.
Chapter Fifteen
The clock in the guest bedroom at the Double L Ranch flashed 2:00 a.m. when Sage finally retired to the guest bedroom. The soft quilt covering the large four-poster bed made for an inviting picture. But with Colt just down the hall, she was sure sleep would evade her.
She was wrong.
Physical exhaustion coupled with the effects of the liquor won the minute her head hit the pillow.
