“Not with coyotes and wolves.” Her hand shook as she smoothed a strand of hair behind her ears. “Why do you think he’s in the barn, anyway?”
“Billy was going in there to get some fly spray because they ran out. Maybe Cowboy followed him in. I phoned Billy, and he didn’t see Cowboy, but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t have happened.” Besides, it was the best choice short of giving up. And seeing how worried Libby was, giving up was not an option.
She took a step toward him. There was sorrow in her eyes and something else, something that looked like need.
Chance leaned his crutch against the wall and reached for her. She stepped into his arms, wrapping hers around his neck, and pressed those soft breasts into him. He squeezed her tight as his blood stirred.
He really did need to get laid. But obviously not tonight. And not with Libby. Not unless…
“I know some would say he’s just a cat, but I love that cat,” she sniffled against his ear.
“I wouldn’t say any such thing, Libby. I understand how attached a body can get to an animal.” He’d had a dog once, before his mother had walked away. He’d had to give it up to go into a foster home, and the thought of what happened to that dog had always haunted him.
Holding her in his arms, feeling her soft body, his thoughts zoomed to more intimate positions. Had him thinking about a friends-with-benefits kind of relationship. Had him getting urges and impulses he shouldn’t be getting.
She had a boyfriend, a soon-to-be fiancé. She’d already walked out on him once. Seemed holding her was affecting his memory.
She stepped back, out of his embrace, and weakly smiled, wiping a hand over her cheek.
“We best get going,” she said.
Focus. Not on the warmth of her body, not on the curves filling out her jeans, not on Libby.
Chance reached for the two flashlights on the shelf in the mudroom and handed them both to Libby, who was already at the door. Maneuvering on his crutches was hard enough without carrying something in his hands. He fought the pulsing ache coming from his foot and the soreness in his ribs. Time to rest later. He just hoped they found Cowboy, or there would be no calming Libby.
In his opinion, animals were much savvier than humans expected. Especially about surviving. He didn’t doubt Cowboy would find a nice tree to climb if need be, but he knew saying so wouldn’t soothe Libby’s fears.
The walk to the barn, though relatively short, had the nerves in Chance’s foot jumping. He’d clearly been up too long. He handed his flashlight to Libby, unlatched the door, and pushed it open. Libby slid in, and he limped through, closing the door behind him. Though it was a deep gray outside the barn, inside it was black.
“Are you going to put the lights on?” Libby asked.
“In due course. First, let’s scan with the flashlights. See if we pick up a pair of red eyes.” Chance retrieved one of the flashlights Libby was carrying.
“What if we see red eyes, but it’s not Cowboy—it’s some other animal.”
“You’ve a vivid imagination, Libby, I’ll give you that. I swear I’ll turn on the lights first before we reach for anything with red eyes.” He couldn’t help the smile on his face. Libby sure wasn’t a country girl, even if she had been raised in Wyoming.
Chance flicked the flashlight on and Libby followed. He panned the upper regions of the hayloft, where the hay would have been stored if he had been using the barn, and Libby scanned the paddock area, all the while softly calling Cowboy’s name.
Once through, and no glowing eyes.
“I’ll look in the tack room. You go through the stalls.” Chance wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand, what with the pain shooting through his foot.
Hobbling over to the tack room, he pulled back the door that was ajar and flashed the light around the room. Two red eyes stared at him from under the wooden horse that held one of his saddles.
He moved further into the room, closed the door behind him, and flicked on the light. Cowboy was crouched down, ignoring the call of his name, waiting for someone to fetch him.
“Found him,” Chance shouted. Within a millisecond, Libby stepped in and let the door bang behind her, the sound causing Cowboy to stiffen.
She rushed to the cat, setting down her flashlight so she could scoop him up in her arms. Cowboy was unaffected. His expression clearly asked, what’s all the fuss about?
Cooing his name and petting him, Libby let out a ragged breath. “Thank you, Chance.”
“Libby,” Chance could feel the pain crawling up his limb like a pack of biting centipedes. “I need to get back to the house. And I’m going to need your help. Go put Cowboy in the house and then come back here. ’Cause if I don’t sit down soon, I’m going to fall down.”
Libby’s face ashen, she did as he asked, scooting out with Cowboy in her arms. Chance leaned against the wall and prayed he’d stay upright until she got back.
*