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So to come here and feel the rush of desire now—the weakness in her knees, the catch in her breath, the flush in her cheeks—all because Jarrett Deeks happened to glance her way... It was humiliating at the least. Slightly terrifying at the most.
She opened her mouth to refuse his offer when Silver nudged her shoulder. The mare’s soulful brown eyes watched her closely, and Theresa knew it was only her own turmoil that made the animal’s expression seem wary and yet hopeful. Yes, it would be hard spending time around the horses, but if she could help, wouldn’t that be worth it?
“She’s looking for a treat,” Jarrett explained, though she didn’t know how he even knew what the horse was doing when he was busy unbuckling the saddle. He’d hung up his denim jacket when they first stepped into the stables, and the soft cotton of the navy blue long-sleeved T-shirt he wore beneath stretched across his broad back and shoulders, defining every muscle.
Theresa jerked her gaze away, just in case he was as aware of her as he was of the horse. Keeping her eyes on Silver, she asked, “What kind of treat?”
“Just about anything edible.” He lifted the heavy tooled leather as if it weighed nothing and carried it into the tack room. When he returned, he held a small plastic bag filled with apple slices. “Apples and carrots are her favorites.”
Reaching inside the bag he offered, Theresa pulled out a piece of apple. She couldn’t help but smile as the mare delicately nibbled it from her palm. She’d just reached for another slice when a horse in the stall beside her stuck out its large head and tried to snatch the apple right from her hand.
“Whoa, there, Duke! Ladies first!” Jarrett said as he stepped between Theresa and the other horse. “Sorry about that. This guy can be a little pushy when it comes to treats.”
“Well, if that’s the case, then I guess I’m a pushover,” Theresa joked as she gave the horse a bite of apple. “You said his name is Duke?”
Jarrett nodded. “He was my first rescue,” he said with a fondness that reached inside Theresa’s chest and squeezed. A slight grin curved his lips, the faint expression lighting his stern features so much that she found herself longing to see him smile, to hear him laugh.
“Hard to believe he was ever shy,” she said.
“He wasn’t that kind of a rescue. Duke was a champion cutting horse back in the day. Won a lot of money over the years. People, crowds, none of that bothered Duke. Loved it, didn’t you, boy?” Reaching up, he gave the side of the horse’s neck a firm pat. “But after a while, age and some minor injuries started to catch up with him, and his owner, the kind of guy who sees his horses as moneymakers, wanted to get rid of him.”
“So you bought him.”
“Yep. This guy’s still got a lot of life in him. He still loves going out for a ride, and he’s great for giving lessons ’cause there’s nothing that’ll spook him. He can’t do everything he used to, but in a way, he’s figured out how to do even more.”
Theresa shot him a sharp glance. Was that his way of telling her she needed to move on, too? To finding her own something more now that working in the ER was a thing of the past? With all of her relatives coming and going over the past few days, it was impossible to believe one of them hadn’t filled Jarrett in about her accident and her injuries.
Did he really think it would be that easy? To give up on the dream of a lifetime and find something else to do? Something as fulfilling, as challenging, as rewarding as the career she’d dreamed of since she was a child?
Frustration, loss and anger boiled up inside her. “Are we still talking about horses?”
“What else?” he asked laconically. Refusing to rise to her challenge, to admit what she knew to be true.
Theresa met his gaze as if by staring him down, she could force him to give a different answer. But with no more ammunition to fuel the fire, her anger started to wane. Maybe she was being too sensitive and reading more than she should into his words...
She didn’t know how long the staring contest would have lasted if not for some outside interference. Tired of waiting for another treat, Duke nudged her shoulder. Hard. The unexpected contact knocked her off balance and right into Jarrett’s arms. Her face burned at the first moment of contact. For the second time in as many meetings, she was practically falling at Jarrett’s feet. And she’d worried about him feeling sorry for her before. Nothing like going back for another round of humiliation.
She quickly braced her hands between them, ready to push away, when the softness of the shirt he wore and the heat of the skin beneath seeped into her palms. Her heart began to race, but the rapid beat was nothing compared to the wild pounding within Jarrett’s chest. She was close enough to feel the warmth of his breath against the side of her neck. If she turned her face, even a little, she’d feel the rough scrape of his day-old beard against her cheek. And if she turned just a little more, she would feel the heated press of his mouth against hers.
Their ragged breathing seemed to fill the stable, so much louder than the stomp of a shoed foot, the gusty blow of a nearby horse, the jangle of Silverbelle’s bridle. But not so loud that Theresa didn’t jump when she heard a vehicle door slam shut. Jarrett stepped back so quickly, reaching for the reins, that she almost wondered if she hadn’t imagined the whole world-stopped-moving moment. Wondered if it wouldn’t be better if she had imagined it.
“Excuse me a minute. I’m expecting someone.” He quickly stabled Silverbelle and was striding toward the sliding doors before Theresa had a chance to catch her breath.
Reaching out, she placed a hand against Duke’s neck, taking comfort in his solid warmth. She didn’t think it was imagination that the horse rolled his eyes at her. “I know, right?” she murmured. “It’s crazy, and I should totally know better. But don’t think I’ve forgotten that this was your fault.”
Despite her words, she carefully bent toward the ground, scooped up the baggie Jarrett had dropped and offered the horse the last slice. Apples might be on Duke’s menu, but forbidden fruit? That was definitely off Theresa’s.
* * *
She waited for a few minutes inside the stable, but when it became clear that Jarrett wasn’t coming back anytime soon, Theresa gave Duke and Silverbelle a few farewell pats and headed for the door. She stepped outside in time to see Jarrett lead a pretty palomino out of a trailer.
Standing beside a dual-cab truck, a silver-haired man wrapped an arm around a blonde teenager. The girl rested her head against the man’s denim-clad shoulder, wiping tears from her cheeks. The man Theresa assumed to be her father looked almost as heartbroken.
“Promise you’ll find her a good home,” the girl said to Jarrett, her words made no less strong by the dampness in her eyes or the tremor in her voice.
“We’d really like to keep her,” the man added. “But I’ve been out of work for a while now, and the boarding stable in Redfield keeps raising its prices—”
“I told you I’d get a job. I could pay for feed and boarding, Dad,” the teen argued.
“And if you’re going to class during the day and working nights and weekends, when will you have any time for riding?” Heaving a sigh, the father gentled his voice as he added, “We talked about this, Chloe. Lightning deserves better than that. She deserves someone who has the time and the money to spend on her.”
With his focus on the horse—running his hands down her back, over her flank, down her legs to her hooves—Jarrett didn’t appear to have paid any attention to the father-daughter exchange. He’d moved to the horse’s head before he asked, “You said you’ve been boarding her?”
“Yes,” the daughter answered. “At a stable the next town over.”
“So you just ride her for fun, then? And let the stable hands care for her the rest of the time?”
The girl straightened away from her father, drawing up to her full height. A sudden breeze whipped her hair across her face, and her pale eyes were flashing as she said, “I take care of her. I ride her every day after school. I spend hours at the stables on the weekends.”
Theresa knew it was none of her business, but she took a few steps forward anyway. She couldn’t blame Jarrett for centering on the horse, but if he’d take a look at the girl, he’d see how devastated she was to be giving up the animal she loved. Theresa had never owned a horse, though she’d begged for one almost constantly as a child. Her parents had wisely refused for the reasons Chloe’s father mentioned.
She’d taken lessons when she could, and there had been times when she’d had to stop because of a lack of time and money. She’d been heartbroken, too, and could only imagine how much more painful it would have been if she’d not only had to give up riding but also give up her own horse.
Would it really be so hard for Jarrett to reassure the poor girl? To promise to find the horse a good home? To show a little understanding instead of asking questions that were only making her feel worse?
Theresa opened her mouth, ready to demand a moment of his time, when Jarrett gave the horse a final pat and finally turned his attention to Chloe. “You ever ride her bareback?”
“Of course.”
He waved toward the corral behind them. “Mount up.”
“What? Why?”
“I want to see how she responds to a rider she’s familiar with.”
Chloe met his unyielding gaze with as much confusion as Theresa was feeling. Was this his way of giving Chloe a chance to say goodbye? A last ride before she and her father turned their truck around and hauled an empty trailer back home? The teen seemed to come to that same conclusion.
Walking up to the horse, the girl ran a hand down its neck and murmured something for only the animal to hear. Then she pulled herself up with remarkable ease and agility. The wide gate squeaked as Jarrett swung it open and Chloe guided the horse through. Inside, the two raced around the ring—Chloe’s long blond hair almost the same color as the horse’s trailing mane.
They rode well together—beautifully and bittersweet—as a final farewell. And while Theresa was touched watching the two of them, the pulse-pounding connection she’d felt earlier wasn’t there. Shooting a quick glance at Jarrett standing impassively a few feet away—his arms crossed and booted feet plated wide apart—she wasn’t surprised. The experience hadn’t simply been about watching a horse and rider. It had been watching Jarrett ride.
A few moments later, Chloe pulled Lightning to a stop and swung from the horse’s back. She guided the animal over to Jarrett and seemed resigned, if not ready, to hand the reins over to him. “She’s a great horse,” the girl said a little defiantly as if challenging Jarrett to disagree.
But he merely nodded. “If you’re still interested in looking for a job, I could use a hand around here. As the weather warms up, more people are going to be looking for trail rides and lessons. What you make should cover boarding and leave you with a little extra.”
As his words sank in, pure joy lit her eyes. “You mean, I could work here and I could board Lightning and I—”
A half laugh, half sob cut off the rest of her words. And if the look on Chloe’s face wasn’t priceless enough, Theresa was gifted with the sight of Jarrett’s pained expression when the girl threw her arms around him in a grateful hug.
Chapter Five
“That was nice of you.”
Jarrett gritted his teeth as Theresa fell into step beside him as he led Lightning into the stable that would be the palomino’s new home. A few of the other horses craned their necks out of the stalls, eyeing the newest arrival with curiosity and a whinny or two of greeting. Though he may have pretended to, he hadn’t forgotten for a moment that she’d been there the whole time he’d talked with Chloe and her father. Not that her presence had affected his decision.
When the O’Malleys had called the day before, he’d known giving up the horse would be tough on the girl and maybe not the best thing for either one of them. He hadn’t brought up the idea of hiring Chloe at the time because, well, he hadn’t thought of it yet.
Even if he had, he would have needed to take a look at Lightning as well as see if Chloe could actually handle herself around horses. In the end, the situation made sense and had nothing to do with the weight of Theresa’s stare or how knowing she was watching made him feel like a heartless jerk, robbing some poor girl of her horse. But still, he hadn’t made the offer because of Theresa.
Especially not if it made her think he was nice.
“Look, it was a business decision. I’m trying to finish up work on the cabins and get that side of the operation up and running. That means I have less time for trail rides and lessons—even though that’s what’s bringing in the money right now. I’ve needed more help around here for a while, and it just makes sense to hire Chloe.”
The majority of the students who came for lessons were young girls who, sometimes, loved the idea of horses better than the reality of sitting on a large animal several feet above the ground. He knew from his phone call with her father that Chloe had younger siblings. She’d be someone the female students could relate to and she’d be a hell of a lot more comfortable with a bunch of little girls than he was.
“So what you’re saying is that you didn’t do it to be nice,” Theresa surmised.
“Exactly.”
“Uh-huh.” Her lips curved into a smile, and that moment before the O’Malleys arrived rushed back. That split second when it had taken every ounce of self-discipline not to crush Theresa in his arms, to feel every inch of her delicate curves pressed against him as he claimed her mouth with his own.
Jerking his gaze away, he focused on settling Lightning into her new stall, an easy enough task with the good-tempered mare. The horse stepped inside, her hooves crunching on the fresh straw as she took in her new surroundings. As he closed the stall door, he flinched a little, thinking of Chloe’s promise to return and bring the engraved plaque with Lightning’s name on it to adorn the front of the stall.
The girl’s eyes had glowed as she said, “I was going to keep it, you know, as a memento, but now it’ll be right on her door where it belongs so that she’ll know that she’s home.”
He hoped Chloe didn’t have anything else in mind to help the horse feel welcome. He could just imagine the stall covered in flowers and draped in girlie fabrics.
Judging by the hint of smile Theresa was unsuccessfully trying to hide, she knew what he was thinking. And wasn’t that one damn scary idea? Because while he was as eager to throw off Chloe’s gratitude as an ornery bull to shake off a rider, the warmth in Theresa’s gaze made him feel...he didn’t know what. But he knew for sure letting himself get pulled into that blue flame was a surefire way to get burned.
“It’s no big deal,” he ground out.
“Tell that to Chloe and her father,” Theresa countered gently.
The ringtone on his phone interrupted the moment, and he reached into the back pocket of his jeans with relief. He didn’t need Theresa thinking he was some kind of hero. Not when he knew the truth. When it came to being there when a person needed him most, he was nothing but a failure.
The phone call saved him from the rush of unwanted memories, but the minute he heard the sweet, Southern drawl, he cringed.
Talk about trading the frying pan for the fire. But at least Summer was on the other side of the country, unlike Theresa, who, despite his words, was gazing at him with a softness in her blue eyes that made half of him want to grab her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her while the other half—
Hell, that part of him just wanted to grab hold of her and not let go.
“Well, it’s about time you picked up your phone. I suppose it’s too much to ask for you to return one of my messages.”
“That would mean having something to say.”
His half sister sighed. “J.T.—”
“Don’t call me that.” The childhood nickname—like his brief childhood in Atlanta, like his family—were things he’d left behind long ago.
After a slight pause, his sister murmured, “Sorry, Jarrett.”
His hand tightened on the phone. Truth was, he had no issue with his half sister and no reason for acting like such a jerk. “That’s just...not who I am.”
Her voice was wistful as she replied, “It’s how I remember you.”
It amazed him somewhat that Summer remembered him at all. Or at least that she remembered him fondly. The eight-year age difference had always struck him as huge. Most of his memories of Summer were of a crying baby, an annoying toddler and a spoiled child. Even if his memories were accurate, Summer had only been ten when he stopped going to Atlanta, fulfilling the regular, court-mandated visits.
That had been over a decade ago, and if he’d missed most of her bratty teenage years, he’d also missed her turning into a bright, beautiful—if stubborn—young woman.
Still, he argued, “You’d be better off forgetting.”
“How can I?” Some of that bright, stubborn streak showed in her relentlessly cheerful tone. “You’re my big brother.”
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