Tempted by Trouble

chapter TWELVE


They entered the stable and were met by the cloying interior. The air was cool and smelled of earth, hay, and leather. Horses stood at the stall doors, most turning toward the light spilling in behind Matt and her. One after another, the horses shook and tossed their heads in a domino effect. He said she could choose any horse she liked.

Only one horse commanded her attention. A stallion so black he was blue. As she walked up the center of the barn, the horse’s ears twitched.

“What about this one?” she asked, suppressing a sly grin.

“Seeing how he’s yours by virtue of temptation, it would only be right that you rode him.”

The intelligent eyes of Cairo, Matt’s black quarter horse, regarded her. His nostrils flared as she approached and he gently snorted. His velvet nose nuzzled her palm. He studied her movement. She couldn’t resist sliding her hand along his glossy coat, a version of liquid ink. This was the horse Matt had ridden toward the house yesterday, seeming to become one with, and she couldn’t imagine a better horse for him.

“I think not. He’s not my type.”

“Shall I pick one for you?”

“Pick away. This should be interesting.”

“No need to think about this twice.” He took her by the hand toward a stall holding a grey mare. Not the old mare she’d expected.

“She’s young, not yet four years of age and as curious as the dickens.” The horse peered at her, neighing a couple of time, and tossing her silvery mane. Carolina glanced at Matt as he patted the horse’s neck.

“She’s a beaut. What’s her name?”

“Take Flight,” he said. “She’s a trained stock horse but no one’s claimed her. Yet.”

“What do you mean, ‘claimed her?’”

“Either someone will want her to use her or we’ll sell her. We don’t have brood mares around here this young. Her stock line is excellent.”

“Is that something of a project for you?”

“Yes. Which is why cattle dying sticks in my damn craw. I’ve worked hard over the years to establish our ranch for its line of more-than-decent working animals. We don’t have scrub horses. Every one of our horses has highly sought-after lines. There’s a very real need for the Americana horse for ranching. And Take Flight has the lineage and temperament to be a winner. Believe it or not, this horse might beat one of your high-stepping Arabians on a quarter mile track.”

“Then I’d be proud to ride her. Take Flight and I shall get along fabulously.” She petted and patted the horse, praying she’d not be tossed off her back before the day was over.

A stable hand was given the task of saddling the horses. Matt took her to his parents to collect the picnic fixings. The house was filled with soft light reflecting off the pastel blue walls. Open windows permitted the air to move the sheer curtains. There was an aroma of bacon and coffee and a radio played within the kitchen.

“Morning. Cup of coffee?” his father asked. “I suspect I’ll see you both today if you’re interested in riding to the north side. We’re fixing the fence line there.”

“Yes, we’ll be following the cattle. I’ve a couple of cows I’m tracking.”

“Better check on the heifer. Rory said he suspected she would give birth today.” Carolina’s ears pricked at the possibility of observing a calving at Evermore.

Ms. Louisa was at the stove with a cloth, cleaning up from breakfast. A newspaper was stacked on the table at the corner. Wade McLemore drained his cup and set it in the sink.

“Don’t wait too long to get started. Heard it was going to be a scorcher today. Carolina, do you have a hat?”

“No. I don’t own one.” The thought of her wearing a cowboy hat made her smile.

“There’s plenty in the hall closet. Matt, make certain she gets one to wear. Sun stroke isn’t a laughing matter.”

“Will do,” Matt’s gaze roamed over her face. “See, it’s not just me.” He’d already commented on her lack of headgear before leaving his house.

“Thank you, Miss Louisa,” Wade said. “See you later on today.”

“Go on, now,” she responded. She nodded to Matt and her. “You ate already?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Matt said. “Coffee always smells better over here.”

“I ’spect it does.” Miss Louisa winked at Carolina. “Won’t never tell him my secret. He thinks he’s so clever that he’ll extract it somehow.”

Carolina smiled. “I believe any mystery is open to his curiosity.”

“How you gettin’ on? Heard you two are taking a picnic lunch. Got it packed, right over here.” She curled her hand and pressed it on top of her hip.

A cooler waited in the back hall just off the mudroom. “I’ll get that. Carolina, would you like a cup of coffee for the road?” He held out a mug to her.

“No, I’ve had enough for the morning.” One cup was her limit. Any more coffee and she’d be keyed up on caffeine. This morning she didn’t need to press her luck.

Matt passed by Miss Louisa. “One day I’ll find out your secret. Mark my words.”

He opened the side door, hoisted the cooler, and went out. She only laughed.

Carolina went to follow Matt, but Miss Louisa caught her arm. “He likes you lots. Remember, some secrets are meant to be discovered, in their own sweet time.”

Carolina nodded, uncertain if she understood. She gazed at the older woman, her wrinkled brow, and wide smile. It was easy to believe that this woman had seen a lot and knew a lot. “Let’s hope,” she whispered.

“Matt was cut to the quick, and he’s been on the mend for some time. Today he seems recovered. He’s much better.”

“He’s a curiosity himself.” Carolina stood gazing out the kitchen window at Matt, walking toward the Jeep. His brother, Stephen, leaned against the car and they were laughing.

Miss Louisa murmured, “Give him time, child. Give him time.”

“He’s got that,” Carolina said. “Thank you for the lunch.”

Miss Louisa nodded and began to hum, soft at first, then gradually stronger, the notes accompanying Carolina out of the house and down the steps.

“Morning,” Stephen called out, lifting his hat. His eyes observed her in that male appreciative way without being creepy. “Brother, how you’ve gotten away with this one, I don’t know how you do it.”

Matt straightened and cocked his head. “Watch yourself, man. Your team is calling for you.”

“Edgy. You’d better watch yourself.” His brother slapped his thigh. “Later, Carolina.”

They hadn’t touched since leaving the house. Was this his way of giving her space or himself a period of adjustment?

“Try this on.” Matt held out a straw hat.

“Nice compromise. South meets west.”

“You’re not exactly the first city slicker to visit.”

“Really? Nice to know.” She pushed the hat onto her head without another word and got into the Jeep. “How will we take the cooler if we’re riding on horseback?”

He leaned over. “Hold on.” Matt wiped his thumb over her cheek. “Dust, it looks like.” She focused on the bandanna tied around his neck. “We’ll drop the cooler at the stables. There’s a four-wheel drive truck that the guys take with them, bringing supplies to the maintenance site. It’s easier to get there on horse considering the terrain, but not so easy if we had to carry supplies in a wagon.”

“What’s going on with the calf birth?”

“I don’t know yet. The cattle conditions are updated each morning. We have a manifold that we check each evening and first thing each day. Yesterday one heifer came up. She was moved into an interior holding pen. Would that interest you?”

“Everything about the ranch interests me. It’s the only way to figure out the causal factors behind the cattle expiring. This isn’t an ordinary birth, is it?”

“No. It isn’t. I’m a bit concerned. I’m not the only one who meddles in breeding.” His expression hardened. “Between calving in spring and fall, we get the haying done and prepare for shipping cattle in October. This birth is more than unusual. Let’s go see.”

The horses were saddled and tied to a post. A group of men moved outside between the stable and office building, a mixture of jeans, checkered shirts, and laughter. No one was idle.

From what she could tell, this was the morning meeting place. Even with hats on, their thread of dark good looks was woven in varying shades. Wade stood in the center of a circle of men off to one side. He talked and they nodded occasionally. There was an interjection followed by a few words. Wade didn’t use two words if one would work. His eyes were sharp, and he pointed and jabbed the air with a gloved fist. Someone had screwed up. She glanced away.

Miller just arrived in a sleek black SUV. The pretty boy out of the bunch. Khakis and a pullover, no cowboy boots from what she could tell. Elegant, the same dark hair and eyes, yet cast in a different form.

“Good morning.”

She returned his wave. “Morning.”

“Going out with the troops. You’re brave.”

“Or foolish,” she said.

“Get out of the way if you’re in the saddle and they’re rotating cattle between fields. It gets rough.”

“So noted.”

Miller lifted a brief case from the back seat and disappeared into the office building. He looked like he belonged on a golf course in Florida.

Matt with his charismatic persona operated between both worlds. He was the hybrid, the new rancher, the man who sought technology as well as experience to find solutions. The exceptional lover, the man who bridged worlds, the only person who delivered what he promised. What would happen in two weeks? Besides having her heart broken, she didn’t see a way around overcoming the fact his life was here and hers, simply put … wasn’t.

“You’re mighty popular.” His hand pressed the small of her back, warming her skin through her shirt.

“The odds are in my favor. Men to woman.”

“Even if the numbers were balanced, you’d still stand out.” He curled a lock of hair around her ear. She cocked her head, leaning against his hand.

“You’re so handsome, Mr. McLemore.”

“You’re sweet-talking me. Must want something. I’ve got something to trade.”

“What?”

“That heifer is going to give birth today. She’s young. Two years and this is her first calf. The vet said most likely won’t happen until tonight.”

“Is that common? A vet comes in for calving?”

“Watson, you’re right. This cow was bred with a bull that is a size grade beyond what I believe is her capacity.”

“Who the hell would have done that, Sherlock?” She let her anger get in front of her ability to remain composed.

He inhaled. “I should have known you’d understand exactly the problem.”

“You brought me here from F-L-A. I didn’t get my degree online, or by cramming at the last minute. She’s in danger. This isn’t the first time, either. Is it?”

“You amaze me.” He stared at her. “No. It’s not the first time, I’m mortified to say. I’ve got a cousin whose head is harder than a rock. But you said this might interest you. I’ve got to warn you. More vets than not swear off this sort of thing … won’t touch it.”

“It’s inhumane.” Just when she believed Evermore was a sweet slice of heaven, hell rose up and opened its bloody bowels. What had she gotten herself into? She’d seen this type of treatment of cows. Experimental at best, torturous at worse. Either way, it was devastating to everyone, except the man who kept repeating the process.

“If I could fire my cousin, I would.”

“Heck, I was thinking mercy killing.”

“The cow or my cousin?”

“What type of man does this?”

“Honey, this isn’t the work of a man. My cousin, Shanna, is a woman for all practical purposes.”