13
THE AUCTIONEER’S HYPER-SPEED monologue rang out over the county fairgrounds on the outskirts of Tampa Sunday morning. Kyra scanned the crowds for Clint as she led Sam’s Pride away from the unloading zone and toward his assigned stall for the day.
The glossy black three-year-old snorted and stayed close to her in the unfamiliar terrain, but after hearing Clint’s thoughts on why the horse acted the way he did, Kyra suspected that was more for her protection than out of any fear of his own.
Patting the horse’s broad neck, she ignored the twinge of guilt that had been niggling at her all morning. She could almost see Jesse frowning his disapproval at her in her mind’s eye.
Jesse.
The pang she felt when she thought about him hurt even more than her guilt over the horse. She’d purposely found errands to do away from the ranch over the past few days just in case he dropped by.
Of course, her long absences were the reason she’d never been able to make connections with Clint about meeting her at the auction today. She’d called his cell phone several times since Thursday night but never got an answer. She’d finally left a voice-mail message for him last night with the details about the auction on the off chance he could help her out this one last time.
Technically, his work with Sam’s Pride was complete and Kyra knew he had his own breeding farm to attend to in Alabama. From what she’d gathered about him from other trainers, Kyra understood Clint’s first priority was his own ranch. He simply had a fascination with unusual horse behavior and enjoyed the diversion of working with those cases.
But she really would have liked the extra hands today to help her with the nine-hundred-pound Tennessee walking horse in case Sam’s Pride turned nervous when she sold him. The fairgrounds were already brimming with noise and activity as the auctioneer’s energetic delivery blasted over an old public address system and horses changed hands in every direction.
In the past, Jesse had always helped her with things like this. The last auction they’d attended together, Jesse had bought a few ponies despite Kyra’s adamant objections. Providing pony rides and training for children wasn’t their focus.
But he and his controlling percentage had won the argument. Much to her surprise, the ponies had established a veritable gold mine for the Crooked Branch, as tourists and locals alike turned out in droves to indulge their kids.
Jesse’s whim was actually the business coup of the year. And now that she remembered how much she had protested that day at the auction, Kyra wondered if she’d ever remembered to tell Jesse how right he had been about the ponies.
Another pang of guilt pinched her as she tried to discern one Stetson from another in the crowd, still hoping for a glimpse of Clint.
But not half as much as she hoped in vain for a glimpse of Jesse. Sure she’d told him she wanted to take Sam’s Pride to auction today. That didn’t mean he’d show up at the last minute the way he sometimes had in the past. She hadn’t realized how much having his support had meant to her over the years. How much his roguish smile would bolster her.
The sound of footsteps running across the gravel behind her made her heart leap nevertheless. She turned, cursing the hopeful jump of her heart.
Clint skidded to a stop next to her, Stetson nowhere to be found as he huffed out a greeting sporting running shorts and a T-shirt that was...inside out? “I just got your message this morning while I was making coffee.”
“Good morning to you, too. Long night?” She nodded at his T-shirt, curious what sort of woman caught this practical man’s eye. And even more curious what sort of woman caught it so thoroughly he hadn’t even noticed his own shirt was wrong side out.
He frowned down at the seams on his shoulder. “A pleasantly long night. But I hauled ass over here this morning as soon as I heard your voice mail. You can’t sell him, Kyra. Not after the way he acted the other night.”
“You think it will upset him too much?” She didn’t want to traumatize her horse, but damn it, this was business. She’d really counted on the income from his sale this year. Not just to win a controlling percentage of the business, but to uphold her end of the partnership and show real progress toward buying Jesse out. She’d agreed to going into business together five years ago because she couldn’t have afforded to do it by herself. But damn it, she’d always intended to pay him back.
“Maybe.” He stroked the horse’s nose and shook his head. “Honestly, I don’t know. But I do think he has something unique to offer with his protective instincts. We ought to give him a chance to show us what he can do with those skills before you sell him off as your everyday average three-year-old.”
Hadn’t Jesse told her the same thing three days ago? He deserves another chance.
She’d ignored him then, just like she would have ignored him about the ponies if he hadn’t forced her to listen. Was she dead wrong about this, too?
Still, Kyra had trusted her own instincts all her life. Unable to count on her father’s guidance between his medications and his battle with manic depression, she had learned to rely solely upon herself. And old habits died hard.
“Do you really think there’s something rational behind this behavior, Clint? I wouldn’t want to spoil a horse who’s just demonstrating routine negative behavior.”
Clint shoved his fingers through his hair, making it stand up even straighter. “Call me crazy, but I would swear that horse thinks he’s on a mission to look out for you.”
His words resonated through her, struck a nerve and a long-ago memory. Her father had visited the stables shortly after Sam’s Pride was born. He’d been having one of his lucid days and he’d been fond of the horse at first sight, going so far as to christen the animal after himself—the original Sam. Her dad boasted he gave Sam’s Pride a mission that day—to watch over Kyra, his other pride and joy.
She’d been touched, but she’d also been worried that her father’s sensitivity would morph to sadness and she proceeded to drive him back home for the night. She’d forgotten all about the remark until Clint’s words revived the memory. “You think he’s on a mission?”
“It’s the damnedest thing. I make no claim to horse telepathy, believe you me. But that’s the sense I get from this animal every time I’m near him. He’s on a mission.”
Kyra wouldn’t, couldn’t give any credence to that line of thinking. Still, a part of her longed for Jesse’s input. What would he think of her crazy memory of her dad giving Sam’s Pride a mission, let alone Clint assuring her the horse was acting it out?
Would he howl with laughter? Or would he actually consider the possibility?
His advice seemed all the more important to her now that she knew she couldn’t seek it. Although bottom-line she’d always made her own decisions, Kyra had been counting on her partner’s advice more than she ever realized.
Either way, she was certain Jesse didn’t think she should sell the horse.
Clint had bent to tie his running shoes while she was thinking. Now, he stood, his gaze connecting with hers again. “Don’t sell him, Kyra. Or if you’re really hell-bent to get rid of him, sell him to me.”
Taken aback, she peered up at him. “Why would you ever want to buy Sam’s Pride with all his...emotional baggage?” In the back of her mind she could hear a bidding war break out on the auction floor and the auctioneer’s frenzy to up the bids. Sam’s Pride wasn’t listed to go up on the block until almost noon, however, so Kyra didn’t need to rush to get him to his stall.
Either that, or she was procrastinating.
“I think Sam’s Pride has a lot of potential if he can ever transfer his protective streak from you to...someone else.” Clint folded the pamphlet with all the horses’ names listed on the day’s auction roster and shoved the paper in his pocket.
Kyra frowned. Was he just offering to buy the horse to be nice? “You seem pretty self-sufficient to me, Clint. I can’t picture you needing this guy following you around like a shadow.” She patted Sam’s Pride’s neck. “And he’d probably get upset when you went out of town to visit other troubled horses—”
“He wouldn’t be for me. I’d buy him to keep an eye on Greta.” Clint exchanged a quick hello with one of the auction attendees shouldering their way past them. The equine world was small enough that events like this were guaranteed to bring together at least a few familiar faces.
“Not Greta Ingram?” Kyra would have fallen over if she hadn’t had a hand on Sam’s Pride to keep her up. She couldn’t picture the Marlboro Man and his boots with the German Wonder-bod and her stilettos.
“One and the same. If she’ll have me, that is.”
Kyra immediately regretted her obvious surprise. His inside-out shirt took on a whole new level of meaning. “I take it the two of you hit it off the other night after the incident in my driveway?”
“You could say that. I don’t know how she’ll take to life in Alabama, though. And I wouldn’t mind having some help looking out for her while she makes the transition.” He made a soft sound to Sam’s Pride and the horse whickered back at him. “I wish I could convince Sam’s Pride to watch over Greta the way he watches over you.”
An interesting proposition. And it certainly revealed how much Greta meant to Clint if he was so concerned about her. How would it feel to have a man watch your back that way?
Dismissing the thought before she wandered down wishful paths she had no business traveling, Kyra turned her attention to Clint’s idea. She’d already been questioning her decision to sell her horse today. Maybe Clint’s offer would give her a few more days to weigh the consequences. “If you’re going to stick around Citrus County a little longer, maybe you could bring Greta over to the Crooked Branch and introduce her to Sam’s Pride. See how they get along to sort of test the waters.”
“I’ll get my checkbook out of the truck. How much were you hoping to get for him?”
Tempting as the offer sounded, now that she was faced with the do-or-die moment to commit to the sale, Kyra couldn’t follow through. She couldn’t sell Clint a horse until she was certain the animal would behave for him. Which meant she also wouldn’t be selling the horse to anyone else today, either.
Especially not after what she’d learned about Sam’s Pride this morning. She shook her head. “Wait to see how he does with Greta. I’ll gladly sell him to you if the two of them hit it off.”
Smiling, Clint stuck out his hand to seal the bargain. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
After making arrangements to drop by during the week, Clint and his running shoes made tracks for the parking lot, leaving Kyra to wonder what had happened to her ability to make a decision, let alone to be practical.
Her sound business sense seemed to have waltzed out the door when Jesse had left her kitchen Thursday.
Was she being stubborn where he was concerned for no good reason? From the outside looking in, Clint Bowman and Greta Ingram probably had even less in common than her and Jesse. Yet Clint obviously had every intention of making things work between them.
If a grounded, intelligent guy like Clint could set his sights on someone as over-the-top as Greta, why couldn’t she at least try a relationship with Jesse? In all fairness, she’d given up before they’d even gotten started.
Maybe, with a few practical ground rules in place, she could at least give it—give them—a chance.
* * *
JESSE JOGGED THROUGH the fairgrounds with his auction placard in hand, searching for any sign of horse #54, Sam’s Pride, who wasn’t in his temporary stall for public viewing. He’d arrived first thing in the morning to glance over the day’s lineup, and when he’d assured himself Kyra wouldn’t be auctioning off her horse for another few hours, he’d headed back to his workshop to put the finishing touches on the crown molding for his first home—the house that had to be a showplace.
It had taken him this long in life to figure out what he would enjoy doing outside the ranch, but now that he had a focus on building custom homes, he planned to do it right. First and foremost, he wanted Chandler Homes to succeed for himself. But maybe—just a little—he wanted to be able to show Kyra his success, too.
He hadn’t bothered to force his ideas on her at the Crooked Branch, his need to give her something that was just for her outweighing any selfish need to be right. But now that she’d made it clear she wanted complete independence from him—professionally and personally—Jesse couldn’t help the desire to prove she’d overlooked his contributions.
He might like to work on the books while watching the Devil Rays on TV. And he might look like he was having a good time doing it, but that didn’t make his efforts any less important, damn it.
Kyra just didn’t seem to realize work and fun could go hand in hand.
Finally, he spotted her. A blond waif in blue jeans crooning to her horse amid a crowd of cowboys in boots and cigar-smoking businessmen. And he cracked a smile to see her among the rest of the horse-crazy auction-goers. Maybe she’d developed some of her all-business attitude from hanging out with the good old boy network for too many years.
She had to be tough or she would have been steamrolled right out of business five years ago.
Jesse approached her slowly, waiting for her to notice him but she was too wrapped up in silent communication with the ornery three-year-old gelding who only listened to her. As he neared them, Jesse waved his red auction placard under her nose.
She snapped out of it then, her gaze connecting with his in a moment of electric awareness.
A vivid picture of her underneath him on his office sectional invaded his brain, scattered his thoughts.
“Jesse.” Her voice held a tiny note of relief. Or so he chose to think. “What are you doing here today?”
I came to claim you for my own.
He would have said it in another day and age. And he would have scooped her right off her feet and walked out of there with her. Cursed modern sensibilities.
“I came to see a woman about a horse.” He allowed his gaze to linger on her. To wander over her. He wanted her to know what he meant to say, even if he hadn’t really spoken the words.
Kyra stared back at him for a moment, and damned if the slightest hint of pink didn’t color her cheeks.
Obviously, she’d gotten the message.
For the first time in fourteen years, he’d succeeded in making her blush.
Before he could revel in that bit of news, Kyra plowed forward. Perhaps in an effort to distract him. “I’m not selling him. Not yet anyway.”
“You’re not?” Relief sighed through him.
She shook her head, her blond hair brushing the tops of her shoulders. “Clint convinced me to wait a little longer. He thinks the horse is on a mission. And you know what?”
Jesse fought past the jealousy that Kyra was listening to Clint Bowman’s advice in a way she never seemed to listen to his. “What?”
He took Sam’s Pride’s bridle out of her hands and led the horse toward the parking lot where he’d seen Kyra’s truck earlier this morning.
“You’ll think I’m insane, but I swear to you I had a crazy memory when he said that. The moment he mentioned it, I remembered my dad telling me he gave Sam’s Pride a mission a few days after he was born.”
Jesse stopped in the center of the unused midway area, right in front of the merry-go-round. “I remember that day. I was on the road in Houston and I didn’t go out that night because you were worried about Sam. You thought he was getting a little morose or something, and you drove him home so he could take his meds.”
“You remember all that?” She looked like she didn’t believe him.
“Geez, Kyra, you’ve allowed yourself to be upset in front of me something like two other times in your whole life.” How could she not know she was freaking important to him? He’d always thought at least their friendship had been rock solid, and now he wasn’t even so sure if she’d ever fully trusted in that. “Yeah, I can remember them.”
She looked toward the parking lot, ever eager to move forward. Jesse dug his boots in the gravel a little deeper. She could take five minutes to talk to him face-to-face.
She folded her arms and pivoted toward him. “It just gave me the heebie-jeebies listening to Clint say he thought my horse was on a mission and me remembering that day with my dad telling me he gave Sam’s Pride a mission to watch over me. I don’t believe in any kind of supernatural stuff, but it spooked me.”
Jesse let the horse’s bridle fall, trusting him not to stray far from Kyra. He put his hands on her shoulders and assured himself he only wanted to comfort her.
Not to feel her incredibly silky skin. Her warmth of spirit and natural vibrancy that had pulled him to her from the first day they’d met.
“It shouldn’t spook you. It should lift you up to think that even in his later years, Sam had such moments of clarity he could commune with an animal as clearly as Clint Bowman does. Hell, maybe your old man should have been the Citrus County horse whisperer.”
The shadow of a smile passed across her lips. “Somehow I doubt my dad would have been able to take his animal act on the road.”
Jesse tilted her chin up with one hand, drawing her gaze to his to let her know he was completely serious. “Maybe not, but it might be a sign that he’d reached a peace of sorts with his disease and where he was at in life. He might not have been able to be the father to you he would have liked, but maybe he made sure you had a stalwart guardian in the form of a four-legged protector. It’s a lot more than some totally healthy parents manage to give their kids.”
Kyra’s blue eyes widened. Flickered with just a little spark of hope. “You really believe what Clint says about the horse, don’t you?”
He rubbed his hands over her arms, needing to reassure her that she wasn’t the only one looking out for her in the world. Didn’t she know how much he wanted to be there for her? Even when they were just friends, he would have sprinted to her side if she ever gave him the least indication she might need him.
“I definitely believe it. Clint’s theory explains every weird action that horse has ever taken. And I think it makes total sense that your old man would try to find a way to watch out for you even when he couldn’t be there for you himself.” He paused, letting her absorb his words. Giving her time to get used to the idea that her dad had wanted so much more for her than she ever realized. “If you want, I could take you by his grave this week. Give you time to talk to him or—”
She was already shaking her head, her hardheaded practicality back in full force. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
His hands fell away from her.
Frustration fired through him, an emotion that—along with jealousy—he wasn’t accustomed to feeling. At least he hadn’t been until he’d gotten all tied up in knots about Kyra. “Since when did you ask? Damn it, Kyra, you can’t shut out anyone and everyone who wants to be there for you. I’m not going away just because you don’t need me.”
Her brow furrowed. Confused.
Didn’t she realize it would be okay to need him sometimes? And why couldn’t she understand that it was okay just to want him—need be damned.
“For that matter, I’m not going away until you agree to see me again. Talk to me. Hell, we never even had our date. I felt too guilty to press the issue the other night, but I don’t have a damn reason to back down. You know I never asked Greta to—”
“Okay.”
“—ever kiss me like that and—” He couldn’t have heard what he thought she’d said. “What?”
“Okay. We’ll do the date. I was upset the other night, but I know there’s nothing going on between you and Greta.”
Jesse felt a burden sliding right off his shoulders. “Damn straight there’s not.” He reached for Kyra, his hand curving around the delicate face that hid such a strong, proud woman. “I was upset, too, in the wake of the whole kiss thing and I was distracted when you asked me if I could handle just seeing you.” He stroked a strand of hair behind her ear, then followed the silky lock all the way to the end as it curved about the top of her shoulder. “But I can handle it. And I want it more than anything.”
Her lips parted in surprise. Beckoned him to assure her of his words with the persuasive power of his mouth.
But he wouldn’t. Not until he’d sewed up the matter of the date in the most businesslike fashion for Kyra’s benefit. He couldn’t afford to leave any loopholes this time.
Somehow, one freaking date had become more important to him than a whole baseball season had been. More important than anything he could think of.
She licked her lips as if she missed tasting their kisses almost as much as he did. “Maybe we should set a few ground rules before we—”
“Not a chance. I’m not going to let you ground rule yourself into some sort of safe zone where I can’t touch you. This time, I want to handle things my way.”
He braced himself for an argument.
But maybe Kyra read his commitment to his own plan in his eyes because she huffed out a breath and nodded. “Name the place, Jesse. I’ll try it your way. At least for one night.”
One night.
The words were music to his ears. She had given him one night and he planned to make sure one night would never be enough for her.