A Cowboy to Marry (6 page)

It was impossible, Holden thought, to be around Libby and not want to take her in his arms and move heaven and earth to protect her. And if this was what she needed to get through the holidays…

Tightening his grip on her, he hauled her against him and angled his head over hers. And then they were kissing in a way that felt incredibly right, in a way that demonstrated they had a lot more love and life in them than either of them had previously thought. He knew they'd be fools to throw chemistry like this away if it provided the catalyst they both needed to jump-start their personal lives.

And yet Holden knew he couldn't let things get too far out of control. He would kiss her and hold her for a few minutes and then that would be it.

But the more their mouths meshed, the more his gentlemanly intentions went by the wayside. His hands seemed to have a life of their own, and she didn't mind one bit as he found her soft curves.

Had they not lost their balance as she tried to lead him, still kissing, toward the stairs, who knew what would have happened?

But they did stumble, bumping into one of the framed photographs.

Libby managed to catch it before it crashed to the floor.

As she stood holding it in her hands, they both looked down and saw Percy's image staring up at them.

Libby drew in a sharp breath. Guilt and uncertainty flashed in her eyes, and Holden felt a sharp stab of disloyalty, too.

Her shoulder slumped. “I guess I'm not as ready to move on as I thought,” she admitted with a sigh.

Was he? Holden wondered.

Especially if it meant betraying his late best friend?

Seeming to read his mind, Libby carefully put the photo on the foyer table. Her chin held high, she turned and took Holden's hand.

She wore the same look she had on her face whenever she spoke about selling the dealership and moving on with her life.

“But I'm also not willing to call a halt entirely.” She paused and looked deep into his eyes. “I want to see you again.” She squared her slender shoulders. “Tomorrow night okay?”

She really had changed, Holden realized in surprise. Gone were the traces of the ultra-accommodating woman his best friend had failed to appreciate.

Mesmerized by the strength of character he saw in her eyes, he curtailed his own fast-threatening-to-get-out-of-control desire, and murmured teasingly, “You sure you want to see me again so soon?” What they were feeling was already pretty intense.

“We entered into this so we can practice being part of a couple again. The point is…” Libby paused and drew a bolstering breath. “Dating after such a long drought is not going to be easy, Holden. We both knew that going into this. There are going to be glitches and missteps. Plus
horrible feelings of guilt, probably. And kissing is bound to be awkward, too. So…who better to share it with than each other?”

Was she really thinking they could limit this to kisses? He was still aroused.

Quirking his lips, he retorted, “Gosh, Libby, when you put it that way…”

Completely recovered, she leaned toward him, the only clue that she'd been at all affected by their embrace being the faint imprint of her nipples against her sweater. “I'm serious, Holden. I really do want to try this again. We had a lot of fun up to now.”

She had a point, he realized.

He smiled, thinking how good it had felt to share a picnic with her in the park and sit side by side in the movie theater, sharing a bucket of popcorn and some Junior Mints candy. “We did at that.”

Libby perked up. “So we'll see each other again tomorrow night?”

Her enthusiasm was contagious. “I'll pick you up at seven-thirty.”

She tilted her head, curious. “Where are we going to go?”

Nowhere, Holden thought sagely, anywhere near a bed.

 

H
OLDEN ENTERED
the Bar M stable just as Kurt finished examining the gestating Lady. Holden nodded at the beautiful silver mare with white feet and a dark gray mane, then turned to his cousin. “How is she doing?”

Kurt stepped out of the foaling box, vet bag in hand. “Great. Although we got the results of the blood tests back, and the results are just as you suspected they'd be. The antibodies are up significantly.”

Which meant they were facing hemolytic disease in the foal, Holden thought.

Kurt continued casually, “You know what to do, so there shouldn't be any problem, but if you run into difficulty, just call me.”

He nodded. “Sure thing.”

His cousin joined him in the aisle. “You still want me to look at the foal that was born this morning?”

Holden nodded and he led the way. “Mind if I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead.” Kurt carried his veterinary bag into the stall. Exhausted from the rigors of giving birth, the big bay mare was lying on her side in the straw. Her colt was cuddled up next to her tummy.

“You're happily married,” Holden remarked, as he stepped in to gently help the wobbly-legged colt to his feet.

“I certainly am, and I don't mind saying, it's great.” Kurt checked the foal's limbs and evaluated the flexor and extensor tendons. “Had I known just
how
great, I would have—”

He stopped abruptly, the way blissfully married folks always did when they realized they'd put their foot in it.

“It's okay,” Holden remarked, looking forward to the day he wasn't known as a divorced rancher who'd had his heart broken. “I know I failed big-time at the marriage business, first time around.” Because if he hadn't, he and Heidi would have stayed together after the loss of their baby.

“Still—” Kurt paused to listen to the colt's heart and lungs “—I didn't have to rub it in.”

“It's fact. I'm dealing with it. Moving on.”

Kurt looked up in surprise, as Holden plunged on.
“Which brings me back to my question. How would you feel if something happened to you…?”

Kurt peered at the foal's gums. “Meaning I go to the big tent in the sky?”

He nodded. “And another guy came along and put a move on Paige?”

His cousin removed a thermometer from his bag. “I don't think I would feel anything in that scenario, because I'd be dead.”

Holden brushed off the joke. “I'm serious.”

“That's what worries me.” Kurt stripped off the first pair of gloves, donned another and drew blood for the lab work. Then he studied Holden. “This is about Libby Lowell, isn't it?”

“I promised Percy I would look after Libby if anything ever happened to him.”

“And you have.” Kurt gave the antibiotic and tetanus injections. “We all know that.”

“I asked to be her rebound guy. And she offered to be my rebound woman.”

Kurt examined the colt's navel stump. “Did you agree?”

Hell, yes.
Out loud, Holden said rhetorically, “What do you think?”

“Only now you're having second thoughts,” Kurt guessed, leading the infant colt to its mama to suckle.

“It sounded easy enough at the outset,” Holden confided as the foal began to nurse. “Libby and I planned to date each other through the holidays—to sort of get our sea legs back. And then that would be it. We would go our separate ways, move on to real relationships.”

The other man nodded approvingly at the foal's vigor, before turning back. “So what's the problem?”

“We're just a couple days into our grand plan,” he con
fessed, as they stepped out of the stall. “And I'm not sure we can keep our emotions in check.”

Kurt removed the stethoscope from around his neck. “What are we talking here…physical attraction?”

“And guilt—that this is not what Percy had in mind when he asked me to take care of Libby.”

Kurt packed up his vet bag. “He wanted Libby to be happy. He wanted her to be safe.”

“Yeah?” Holden started out of the barn.

His cousin fished in his pocket for his keys. “He probably also wanted her to be loved.”

Holden's mood remained skeptical. “By his best friend?”

Kurt lingered next to his pickup truck and thought a moment. “I don't think jealousy exists in heaven. I think all those negative emotions are filtered out. They'd have to be, for anyone to have eternal peace.”

“You've got a point there,” Holden said quietly at last.

Kurt tossed his gear in the cab. “You and Libby, on the other hand, are still here on earth. So you're going to have the whole gamut of emotions to deal with, whether this works out the way you two envisioned or not.”

Holden turned his face into the wind, eyeing up the gray clouds overhead. Christmas and New Year's would be here sooner than they thought. And with that, the end of his arrangement with Libby. “So what are you saying? It's only going to get worse?”

“No clue. The only thing I do know—” Kurt slapped him companionably on the back and flashed an encouraging grin “—is that you, my friend, are in deep.”

 

“L
IBBY
?” V
INCE
H
UNT ASKED
shortly after the dealership closed for the day. “Got a minute? We all have something we'd like to say to you.”

Her nerves jangling, Libby walked out into the showroom, where all her employees were gathered. She was pleased to see the staff had gotten together and decorated the showroom for Christmas, as tradition required, making Holden's help that evening unnecessary.

The head of financial services continued, “We're sorry about the way we confronted you the other day. Since then, we've all had the opportunity to sit down with Jeff Johnston individually.”

So that was what had been going on….

Speaking for the service department, Manny Pierce chimed in, “He let us know that he really takes care of his employees, and he is planning to run the business on the same model Southwest Airlines uses.”

This was news. “You'd each own a small part of the company through profit sharing?” Libby asked in surprise.

Heads bobbed happily.

Lucia Gordon smiled. “He's really focused on building each business he owns into a cohesive team. Plus he said he would give us all written contracts and guaranteed salaries and bonuses for the next five years.”

“After meeting with him one-on-one, we realize he's a decent guy,” Swifty Mortimer said. “So we're all okay with it now.”

“Not that we want to see you go,” Manny Pierce hastened to add. “But…we understand.”

Libby was so shocked she didn't know what to say. Finally, she managed to thank everyone for their support.

“And one more thing,” the receptionist said, handing Libby a slip of paper. “This call came in while you were with that last customer.”

Holden's name was scrawled across the top. The message beneath read: “Sorry about tonight. Rain check?”

Not sure what that meant, Libby worked to keep her expression inscrutable. “That's it?”

Lucia shrugged. “He sounded like he was in a hurry.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Libby went into her office and tried to reach Holden, both on his cell phone and on the ranch line.

There was no answer either place.

Which meant what? she wondered, beginning to feel a little upset. Had he learned the dealership had already been decorated and changed his mind about spending time with her tonight? Or was it more than that?

Realizing there was only one way to find out, Libby got in her car and drove out to the Bar M ranch. She hadn't been out there in almost two years, and she was surprised to see how much had changed.

There were now countless pastures and four large stables, a barn and the original fieldstone ranch house with the steeply pitched roof.

Holden's pickup was parked in the drive. Light spilled from one of the buildings, and she headed that way. Holden was inside, kneeling next to a newborn foal, slipping a muzzle over its head.

He looked up as Libby slipped into the stall.

“Hi,” she said softly, amazed as always at the fragility and wonder of new life.

She knelt down beside the foal, which was the spitting image of its mama—silver body, dark gray mane, white feet.

Holden flashed her a sexy smile. “I guess you got my message.”

“Yeah.” He was really in his element.

Wishing she'd thought to change into jeans and boots, or at least brought some with her, Libby hunkered down
beside him, being careful not to get the goo from the birth on any of her nice work clothes. “What are you doing?”

Holden went to the cooler in the corner and brought out a bottle of what looked like formula. “Prenatal tests determined this foal has hemolytic disease. In other words, there was a blood group incompatibility between the dam and the sire. Antibodies are produced during pregnancy that, if ingested by the foal, would destroy her red blood cells.”

Admiring Holden's competence, Libby asked, “Sort of like Rh disease in humans?”

“Right.” He shook the bottle, making sure its contents were mixed. “Although in babies, it's a little more complicated. With horses, all we have to do to keep the foal from harm is substitute compatible colostrum for the first thirty-six hours, and make sure Willow here doesn't nurse and ingest any of Lady's.”

“Hence the muzzle,” Libby guessed.

“I'll milk the mother six times a day and discard her colostrum, to prevent any from being transferred to the foal, and feed Willow by hand. Then she'll nurse at her mother's side, as per usual.”

“Wow. You really know your stuff.”

He grinned. “Breeding and training quarter horses is my profession.”

And, Libby thought admiringly, he did it very well.

“Want to help with the first feeding?”

Was he kidding? “Love to,” Libby said.

Holden produced the bottle for the newborn and a wooden bench for Libby to sit on. With gentle hands, he undid the muzzle and helped them get situated, with Willow braced and supported by Libby's knees.