The Bride Wore Red Boots (22 page)

He didn't hesitate. “Mustangs!” It was the most animation he'd shown since meeting Sadie.

At the mention of horses all the women jumped into motion as if they'd been told Johnny Depp was in the house. One put the milk away, another the cookies, another swept crumbs from the table into her hand and tossed them in the sink. Cole, Gabe, and Rory sat at the table staring at each other in amusement—and a little more astonishment on Rory's part.

“That's how girls act when horses and cowboys are involved,” Cole said, leaning toward Rory conspiratorially. “You might want to consider becoming a cowboy, just so you get any attention.”

“Are you a cowboy?” Rory asked.

“I guess I am. I raise cows and I got a cowgirl to say she'd marry me—so I speak from a little experience.”

“Are
you
a cowboy?” Rory turned to Gabe.

He'd lost count of the number of hits his heart had taken today. With one innocent question, a boy of ten had isolated Gabe's problem. Of course he wasn't a cowboy. He was a city boy who'd moved to a cowboy state.

“I'm pretty much not,” he said. “I do like horses, though. Do you?”

Rory shrugged. “I rode in a carriage once, and I petted a policeman's horse. I never saw a mustang. Dr. Mia told me about them when we were driving here.”

“Then you should see the mustangs,” Gabe said. “Don't you think so, Cole?”

“No question about it.”

Gabe smiled encouragement, but he knew he was going to let Cole take the lead on this outing. After Amelia sent Rory out the door with Cole and Harper, she reached for Gabe's hand, and he halted her, spinning her into his arms.

“Thanks for being so patient,” she said. “This is completely crazy.”

“He's a cute kid.”

“He's amazing, too. He's not saying much here yet, but he's smart.”

“What would you think if I let you have the rest of the afternoon with him alone?”

“Whoa. Wait? You want to leave?”

“No, it's not that. I thought it would be easier for Rory to have one less body around.”

“Easier for Rory? First of all, it wouldn't be. Second, what about me?”

“I just want you to have all the time you need with him.” He meant it.

For an instant he thought she was going to let him have it—like the old Dr. Mia. Instead, she pressed her lips to his. When she pulled back from the kiss she grabbed a fistful of his sweatshirt.

“Listen, Lieutenant. No way are you leaving. I need you. I've used up nearly all my expertise on him already, and I'm scared to death.”

Her declaration, or her admission if that's what it was, jarred him. She'd looked so calm, so expert with him. How could she be scared?

Finally a familiar rush of his normal confidence flooded back. Here she was embracing this enormous change in her life with fear she refused to show, and he'd threatened to abandon her. In one flash of insight he manned up. This wasn't Iraq. The child wasn't Jibril. He knew how to do this. He grabbed her into a hug.

“Aw, Mia. Of course I'll stay. I just didn't want to hurt or frighten him.”

She looked up at him. “You've never called me Mia.”

He hadn't. But some little dam had broken inside and a sense of intimacy he'd never known filled him with joy.

“Mia, Mia,” he crooned. “I'm sorry. You are so much braver than I am.”

“I am not brave.”

“As brave as anyone I've ever known. I let myself fear getting to know Rory only to lose him when he leaves. But he's a perfect example of the kind of child I
do
want to know. To help. There are too many Rorys in the world. You didn't run from that.”

“Believe me, I want to.” For the first time she sounded miserable.

“Okay. For now let's
not run
together. How about I grow a pair and have your back?” She sagged into his hold like a sack of sand, and the first sound of crying emerged—a tiny hiccup of a sob. “Hey,” he said. “It's okay.”

“It is now,” she said. “It is now.”

They joined the others already on the way down the long sloping drive toward the ranch yard and the barns. Gabe breathed in the familiar earthy outdoor scents with new appreciation. With Mia's—using her nickname had breached the wall between him and feeling like family—hand in his, he watched Rory bravely facing his own unknown between Cole and Harper, glancing back once or twice to make sure Mia was there. In those moments he knew that for however long he could make this new romance last, he'd do it right.

The universe, fate, God, who- or whatever, certainly did kick people in the shorts in mysterious ways.

The tranquility was interrupted by sudden wild yelling, and the slight figure of a teenaged girl charged toward them. Beside her raced a loose-limbed but graceful Border Collie pup.

“Harper! Cole! Come. Hurry! That grulla mare got loose. She bulldozed over Mr. Finney and broke through a half-open gate. Grandpa is with him, and Dad went after the horse.”

“Oh, God, no.” Mia stiffened beside him and dropped his hand. She pushed forward in a run and reached Harper. Gabe followed.

“Skylar, is Finney all right?” Mia asked.

Bjorn's daughter, even at fourteen, knew more about horses than a lot of cowboys. She'd been helping with the mustangs, and the guys responded to her with surprising respect. She stood before them now, breathing hard, her eyes as wide as Halloween moons.

“I don't know,” she said. “I didn't wait to see. But he wasn't moving much.”

M
IA TOOK THE
deepest breath she could manage and pushed back the gruesome thoughts of a broken, trampled Damien Finney, along with the knowledge that this was all her fault. What a foolish, impulsive, dangerous idea this whole mustang thing had been. She looked to Gabe who was ready to bolt along with Harper and Cole.

“Go,” she said. “Rory and I will be right there.”

What a terrible introduction to ranch life this would be for him. Fear and dread hung in her chest like stone weights. She turned to Rory and squatted. He stared at the sprinting trio of adults with a mix of fascination and alarm. That's when she realized Skylar had also stayed behind. She offered the girl a weak smile.

“Rory,” she said. “Look at me, sweetie.” He did. “I'm sorry you're having to see this your first thing at the ranch. We don't have to go down there.”

“I . . . I want to,” he said.

“We'll have to stay far back from the accident.”

“Did somebody die?” His voice wavered slightly but didn't break, and he set his little mouth firmly—a true tough kid from New York, although he'd hardly been raised on the streets.

“I don't think so,” Skylar said.

“Really?” Mia couldn't stop the hopeful question.

“I don't think there was any blood,” she said in continued teenage candor.

Mia knew that didn't matter. And for the first time, she remembered that she should be the one at the scene. When had the medical instinct that was her heart and soul abandoned her?

“Rory, this is Skylar. Skylar, meet Rory. Would you both be okay if I did go down there? Maybe I'll be able to tell if Mr. Finney is hurt badly or not.”

“She saves people,” Rory told her, a hint of pride in his voice. In light of his mother's death only days earlier, it was an amazing thing for him to say.

“And cats.” She stroked his cheek. “You're needing to be brave all over the place today, kiddo. I'm really proud of you.”

“I'll bring him down, Miss Mia,” Skylar said. “Don't worry.”

The teen had grown close to Harper in the months since their father had died. Sky had grown into a smart, sassy, highly artistic and insightful young woman in the years all the sisters had been away from Paradise. She was proving right now that her reputation for poise was justified.

“Thanks, Skylar. I'll see you in a few minutes.”

By the time she reached the scene, back in doctor mode and steeled for the worst, she found to her immeasurable relief a pissed-off Finney, seated in the dirt of the round pen, arguing with Gabe about getting up.

“Here she is.” Gabe caught her eyes. “Let her look you over, and she gets to make the call.”

“Back everyone,” Mia ordered to the knot of family pressed around Finney's agitated form.

Leif Thorson, the laconic, kind, and mustached original ranch foreman who'd always been like a grandfather to the Crockett sisters, nodded at her arrival. “I think he's just a little shaken up,” he said, stepping back, pronouncing it “yoost a little” in his easy Norwegian accent.

“Thanks, Leif. Damien?” She knelt beside him. “Tell me what happened.”

“I scared her,” he said adamantly. “You've got to let me help catch her.”

“Not until I know what happened.”

“I forgot to take down the plastic bags we had tied to the rails for desensitizing Pat's horse. He's ready for that. Pan isn't. She spooked even before I got the gate closed. She reared and made this crazy run around the pen and then just galloped right passed me. Her head and shoulder shoved me over so I couldn't grab her halter. I hit the ground hard, got the wind knocked out of me, but I didn't get hurt.”

“Did you hit your head?”

“Just on the ground.”

“Lose consciousness?”

“No!”

“Do you remember the whole incident?”

“Every second. She was scared to death. I feel awful. About her,” he added quickly.

Mia stared at him. She couldn't remember ever hearing Damien Finney say he was sorry for or about anything. Mr. Tough Guy never blamed or took blame. He just got angry. But he wasn't angry at the horse at all. Amazing.

“Any dizziness now? Follow my finger.”

“Really?” he asked. “You guys do that?” He followed the motion of her fingertip perfectly.

“Yes. Did Pan's hooves touch you?”

“Not at all.”

Finally Mia allowed her breath to release and her pulse to calm. She ran a hand over the back of Finney's head and felt no lumps yet. “Okay,” she said. “Let's get you up. Slowly.”

Gabe and Leif each grabbed one of Finney's arms and hoisted him to his feet.

“Any dizziness now?” Mia asked.

“Nope. Let me go. She knows me best.”

“We need to talk about her, Damien,” Mia said. “She's a hot-headed little girl. We've discovered that all week. This was just a warning—you could get seriously hurt. It's possible, in fact it's likely, she just isn't going to make a good project horse. Some never do.”

“She is a good horse,” he said, his voice tightening. “She's fine. This wasn't her fault.”

“But she hasn't learned enough self-control to stay out of your space. She has to do that even when she's scared.”

“She'll learn.” Anger crept slowly into his words.

Mia looked helplessly at Gabe, but to her dismay he shook his head. “It's his horse,” he said.

“Leif?” She tried her old friend. “When I thought he'd been injured, I was beside myself. This whole project is on me.”

“No, it's on me,” Gabe said, taking her hand. “I gave the okay and got the permission. And now that it is underway, that point about who started it is moot. Stuff happens.”

“The point is, the project is only worthwhile if it's safe. That's not a safe horse for a beginner.”

“Sweetheart.” Leif took her other hand and smiled. “You've been away from this life for too long. You're talkin' like a city slicker. Since when have you been afraid of horses? How many times were you and your sisters knocked down or stepped on or dumped off?”

Mia let out a frustrated growl. This was all beside the point—moot or not. She started to protest but at that moment, Skylar and Rory reached the fence and Sky boosted her temporary charge onto the bottom rail so he could see over the top. Mia's heart skipped in fear. What if it had been him?

She pulled her hands from both men. “You'll be crawling back to me in apology if someone gets hurt.”

“He didn't die?” Rory called.

The men broke into laughter. Mia scowled. “Oh, come on, you guys. That's just wrong,” she said. “No, kiddo, he's just fine.”

Leif patted her on the head as if she were five and walked away chuckling. “Time to go rope us a mustang. C'mon tenderfoot, let's get your pretty little horsie.”

He slapped Finney on the back and Damien looked at Mia. “Go,” she said. “If she runs at you, next time, dodge.”

Two long, strong arms wrapped her from behind. Gabe's familiar, heady scent sent her blood zinging through her veins.

“Thanks for sticking up for me,” she said sarcastically.

“Did you see the look in Finney's eyes?” he asked. “I haven't ever seen that kind of passion in him. Taking that mare away from him now would kill it for good. He'd never stop believing that the whole world was against him. You'd be no different to him than the people running the benefits departments. No different than the brass in the army. But let him fight this out, win this battle, and you might save a guy from himself.”

She closed her eyes, grabbed his wrists with her hands and leaned backward. “You see the good in everything.”

“I see the changes. Finney's change is seismic—in just a week. Don't give up on him.”

“I'm not. I've just learned to care about the big jerk.”

“Show him, by letting him follow his instincts.”

She opened her eyes and spun in his arms. “What are you? Everyone's safety net?”

“I'd be happy to be yours.” He nuzzled her nose with his, and she laughed, letting her irritation and worry go. “But there are new and small people here now.”

“New and small people go to bed early.” She arched an eyebrow at him, her stomach dancing.

“Don't you tease about something like that.”

“It would hardly be ‘us' if I didn't.”

“Hey, newlyweds. Get a room!” Harper's laughter carried from across the round pen. “Or come help find the mare.”

“Newlyweds?” Gabe frowned in confusion.

“Any new couple. It's just stupid.”

“I vote for the room,” he said.

“I'm shocked. And a little flattered.” She kissed him on the cheek, afraid his lips would entice her to linger.

“S
HE
'
S REALLY BEAUTIFUL.
”

Rory stood beside Skylar on the middle rail of a section of six-foot pasture fence, staring at the five mustangs, including Pan, who was now safely contained. Mia stood on the ground beside Gabe and Finney one section to Rory's right, looking between rails. Cole, Harper, and Leif stood two sections to Rory's left. Pan the troublemaker grazed peacefully inside the fence with the others, swishing her tail at the giant, downy snowflakes that had started falling as the search team had brought her home. The mare gave no indication she'd just led half a dozen people on a two-hour chase through Paradise's lower pastures.

Mia lifted her head and let the flakes drift onto her cheeks. Their damp little kisses cooled her adrenaline-fueled flush from the chase, as well as the electric heat from the little circles Gabe massaged into her neck.

“I agree,” he said. “She's an awfully pretty horse. You should have seen her running.”

“The little siren,” Mia said. “She's got the whole place under her spell now, and she knows it. I've changed my mind. She's not mean. She's just vain.”

“I've always been a sucker for gorgeous, narcissistic women,” Finney said.

“Well you found a doozy,” Mia said. “But I have to admit. She does know you. Whether she wants to admit it or not, she has a thing for you, too. You did a wonderful job with her once we had her lassoed. Sorry it came to that.”

Finney shrugged. “It was fun seeing you swing a rope.”

“Fun?” Gabe repeated. “I've never seen anything so sexy in my life.”

“Hush!” Mia cuffed him on the chest. “Small ears.”

“Aw, I know what sexy means.” Rory gave a perfect and appropriate ten-year-old's sneer of disgust. “I just can't believe Dr. Mia knows how to rope a horse.”

“A running horse,” Gabe clarified.

“Bah,” said Mia. “If Joely had been there she wouldn't have missed even once, and she'd have had her in a fourth of the time I did. I never could beat her. She does rope tricks, too.”

“I don't care. You were pretty frickin' awesome, Dr. Cowgirl.”

“Can I see you rope sometime?” Rory asked.

“Sure. I'll teach you how. Or Skylar can. She's a good roper, too. Her grandpa Leif taught all of us.”

“He did,” Skylar agreed.

“How about me?” Gabe whispered. “Can I learn, too?”

“I have other things I'd like to show you how to do with a rope.” She snuggled into his side, smiling secretly at the shocked stiffening in his body.

“Oh. My. G— You did not just put that thought in my head.”

“Down boy. I'm not that kind of girl. A lariat is far too long for that sort of thing anyway.”

With a suddenness that robbed her of breath, Gabe tugged her around a quarter turn and hauled her into his arms. Then he backed her against the fence and pressed his chest, his belly, and thighs to her, rolling hot sparks slowly, subtly down her body.

If no one spared more than passing attention they probably wouldn't see anything but an impending kiss, but still, Mia stole a furtive glance at the others, especially Rory. All eyes were on the horses. Then Gabe obliterated all thoughts of anyone else by rocking his pelvis forward and sending shockwaves to every nerve fiber. Hard and unmistakable, his arousal pressed against her. Heat filled her limbs, chills chased up her spine and spilled across her shoulders. Liquid rushed to her core.

“I've been fighting this all afternoon because of you,” he whispered. “And you just lassoed and hog-tied every stitch of my self-control.”

He pulled away, leaving her hot and cold but most of all bereft. He shifted and leaned sideways against the fence, facing away from the others. She stroked his cheek because she couldn't stand not touching him. She grinned because she should have been sorry to cause him discomfort—but she wasn't.

“I'm going to leave you here in the snow to cool off. Then I'm going to bring Rory back to the house to get ready for dinner. The sooner he eats,” she lowered her voice further, “the sooner he's ready for bed.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head. “You're tough on a guy, you know that?”

“I'll try to be nicer next time.”

F
OR
R
ORY
'
S FIRST
dinner, Grace, Raquel, and their mom had opted for a full-on traditional Sunday supper—a big beef roast with mounds of creamy mashed potatoes, thick gravy, carrots and peas. They plied the boy with fresh rolls and homemade raspberry jam. And for dessert they let him fill his own bowl with Belgian chocolate ice cream. He ate like a starving child, which delighted the latent grandmother in Bella and brought out the “this isn't going to happen like this every night” gene in Mia.

In one short afternoon, Rory had tightened his hold on her heart. Logic told her she hadn't faced anything difficult with him yet. He was still grieving, so he clung to Mia. She hadn't ticked him off yet, or enforced many rules, so he didn't yet look at her as a parental figure. Here in Wyoming she didn't have to get him ready for school or fight about classroom-appropriate slogans on T-shirts. When all that hit the fan, the novelty of imposed guardianship would likely wear off, and then where would she be?