Chapter 48

A few hours later, Cole dug the pitchfork into the fresh hay, tossed the golden bits in beside Tawny. “There, girl.”

He stopped to rub her flank, and she whinnied in pleasure. He moved up to her head, caressed her gently with his hand. He’d missed her and Storm the most. Then, to have her sick…

“Looks like you’re getting better all the time.” He leaned in close. “We’re all crazy ‘bout you, especially Krys. So you better get better, okay, Beauty?”

Tawny pressed her head toward him, even as a snort sounded a few stalls away. There was Storm, his sleek blackness shimmering in the evening light, and he heard him pawing the floor. Cole smiled. “I just spent thirty minutes with you, boy. We chatted and cuddled, which is more than I’ll ever admit when the hands are around. What the heck more do you want?”

Another snort was his answer, and he chuckled. “Give me a few, boy, and I’ll be back, as soon as I…”

“Cole?”

That warm voice, notes of vanilla and honey and heat, raced excitement up and down his spine. Get a grip, Dawson.

He turned, and there she was. In a white shirt, rumpled, tucked into those denims. His eyes flew to the spot where her shirt was buttoned to, lower than normal, he noticed with interest. To the spot where he knew, just knew, she had to have scars. Yet the flesh was still creamy.

Yup. Still using makeup.

That was fine. It was up to her. But damn, he really wanted to see the real her. All of her. Every last little bit. To touch. Caress…

The internal voice sounded more emphatically. Get a grip, Dawson.

“Evenin’, Tabby. Taking a break from all that sex?”

She blinked, then laughed. “Oh, from the book. Yeah. Hit a bit of a snag.”

“As long as it’s just the book.” He grinned at her, watched for a reaction. He desperately wanted to get her to laugh. To loosen up. Her mouth seemed tight, and there were faint lines drawn across on her forehead.

She gave him a dutiful smile. “Tawny and Storm good?”

“Come take a look for yourself.” He moved to Tawny’s back end, made a spot for her, motioned her into the stall.

“Really?”

“You’ve already met Storm. It’s about time you met the rest of the family.”

She remembered the time, a few days ago, when he’d introduced her to Storm, told her tales of how he and the horse were one and practically shared the same spirit, even though his dad and Storm had also bonded. It had taken much cajoling on his part to convince her just to put her hand up to the huge animal over the wooden stall door. But she had, and after a bit of incredibly careful inspection—with Cole mediating—Storm had accepted her.

It had been surprisingly monumental for her, and now she felt a strange, special kinship with the powerful, seemingly thoughtful beast.

But she hadn’t had to go into his stall. Tawny was still an unpredictable animal, and much bigger than her. “Really?”

“She’s family, Tabs. She knows you’re new, too.” He gave her a look. “Do you want her to think you’re ignoring her?”

Tabby shook her head, sighed, nodded. Of course she didn’t want a horse to think she was ignoring her. She entered, tentative, the bulk of the horse still scaring her.

Cole didn’t seem to notice, though he did stand awfully close to her. “Here,” he said, smoothing Tawny’s side, then her neck. “Pat her here. She loves this.”

Tabby looked the animal over, still overwhelmed by her size up close. She reached up to pat her, and Tawny jerked her head suddenly. “Oh.” Tabby jumped back.

“Don’t be scared, Tabs. Here. Like this.”

He reached his hand out, palm up, waited. Was gratified when she placed her warm hand in his. His fingers curled around hers, and he brought her hand up to Tawny’s neck, gently. The horse whinnied again, moved into their touch. “See? It’s easy if you go slow.”

But he wasn’t any too sad Tawny had made the sudden move and that Tabby was oh so close to him now. She smelled amazing. Like caramel and burnt sugar. Sweet, and spicy, all at the same time.

Maybe it was the remnants of Dax’s sugar pie tonight, but he didn’t think so.

“She doing better?”

He forced himself back to the conversation and away from the spot his mind was quickly travelling to. To them both tangled in sheets, naked. All that lovely flesh, and her smile…

“They’re both on the mend, really, this time. Stryker was out again to check on her, and Dagger. Guy’s such an amazing vet, second to none, even though he’s only in his early thirties. Bit of a heartthrob, in Dawson, tell you the truth. We’re lucky to have him.”

And then, something weird happened. Fast.

He felt her tighten, compress. She moved quickly away from him. Her arms rose and she hugged herself, wouldn’t look at him. “You making headway on those bills?”

Huh?

“Ah, not really. Not this very second. We still need the next couple of weeks, and the cattle auction soon to go well. With the cash from that, though, we’ve got feed and pay to take care of first. But then, Stryker gets a payment. Not as much as I want to give him, but he’s willing to work with payments. Decent soul, I tell you. Honestly, I don’t know what we’d do if…”

“The book’s been cancelled.” She blurted it out, hugged herself even tighter.

“Wha…seriously? Tabby, oh no. How did that happen?”

She was moving her feet now, up and down, as she stood in one place. An upset little dance. “New people bought the publishing house. I mean, I’m doing decent with royalties, but they have a different focus. They might go ahead with it in a year. But now…no.”

The woman was incredibly upset.

Well, of course she was. She enjoyed the writing. “Hell, I’m sorry, Tabby. That sucks, no doubt about it. But at least you’ve got a place until you decide what you want to do, and you can take your time with it. You don’t have to worry about rent and food, or any of that stuff.”

That, the tiny gift he could give her, made him happy. Proud. Like something was going right in his life. With so much messing up around him, so many worries, Dawson Ridges was still theirs. It was still a place for good people, where decency and effort and caring meant something.

And that was before he factored in how he felt about her. That made it doubly fine. He could provide for the woman he loved, even before they were an official item.

But instead of relaxing, her face went stiff. Wooden. “I’m thinking of going to Jack’s Bay. There’s a place there for me with Emma. She runs the general store, and I can…”

“What the hell? What are you talking about?” Reality slapped him hard. Leaving? “What on earth are you going on about?” Shades of the blackness he’d been successfully fighting ever since the war, cold tentacles threatened to reach out, pull him into the hard descent again.

But this was Tabby, and he was more concerned about her, and her emotional state.

She stared at him, pain crusting her face. Eyes wide. Lips pressed together.

“Tabby, for God’s own sake. What is it? What’s wrong?”

But instead of answering, her eyes filled with tears. She ran abruptly from the stables into the night, dead away from him, and he was left standing alone.