Chapter Four

Ben whined, waking Dusty in an instant. Sitting up, he scanned the area, looking and listening for what might have alerted the dog. Finding nothing, he lay back down and stroked the dog’s coarse fur. Though the animal never missed anything, Dusty wondered if Ben suffered from similar nightmares to his, courtesy of war.

They’d been teammates in Afghanistan and Ben had saved his life and others’ more times than he could count. He’d scented out explosives as well as sounded an alarm when the enemy had drawn near. Trained for protection, Ben could rip into a man with a simple command, yet he remained as playful as a puppy these days, running around Dusty’s stable.

When Dusty had decided to put in his resignation to the Navy SEALs, his sole regret had been losing Ben. Only his luck held as the Navy had decided, due to Ben’s advanced age of eight years and his development of arthritis, which affected his mobility, to retire the service dog. Dusty had immediately stepped forward to adopt Ben, bringing him home.

Home. More like his family’s home. He’d tried to live there after returning from war. Then his life had splintered. His longtime girlfriend had opted to find another man in his absence. He couldn’t entirely blame her, but she’d left his heart broken and aching. He’d been too busy on the war front to grieve over the words written in a short letter that had taken three months to find him. After he’d returned home, he’d leaped back into the dating pool, eager to find a woman to spend his days with. On the rebound, he’d found Rose. From their first meeting, he’d decided he wanted to keep her, falling instantly head over heels in love at first sight. He should have known better. Turned out she specialized in manipulating men out of their money then walking away, leaving them high and dry. His stubbornness had refused to see the truth even after his oldest brother had hired a PI who’d found plenty of incriminating evidence. Hurt and still trying to adjust to life post-war, he’d lashed out, first verbally, then he’d thrown a few punches at Archer, his oldest brother, who’d presented him with proof of his latest folly when choosing a woman. He’d packed up and left that very night, striking out on his own with Ben at his side.

Traveling for a couple of days, he’d finally decided to do what he’d always wanted to do—own a stable and train horses. Lucking into a rundown business, he’d bought the land for next to nothing and spent the next month repairing fences, mending the stable and advertising his services. Slowly but surely, people had brought him their horses. Some to stable and care for, others to break and train. Word of mouth had spread quickly, allowing him ample work and enough of a financial cushion to feel comfortable.

Now, three years later, white hair coated the tan dog’s muzzle and Ben relied on daily medication to control his arthritis pain. Dusty lived in the one-bedroom living area attached to the stable, and he cared for twenty horses at the present time. The animals provided him with more than a source of income, they offered him peace and an outlet for his restlessness, nightmares and loneliness. The only thing the animals couldn’t fix was the breach with his family. He’d not seen or spoken to any of his four brothers since the night he and Archer had come to blows. His parents called now and again, but he avoided the tense and uncomfortable conversations whenever he could. While he’d said good riddance back then, he’d come to realize his own lack of judgment in the fiasco. Pride prevented him from calling, from doing more than occasionally thinking about them and wondering what life had brought to each of them in the past several months.

Ben sat up and jumped off the bed, his old joints popping in the process. Dusty threw the sheet aside and pulled on a pair of old, worn-out jeans, complete with holes in the knees. With no air conditioning and only a fan, the nights proved too hot to wear anything to bed. Yet he kept clothing close. On the farm you didn’t know what kind of critter might wander in looking for food or something else. He could deal with the occasional possum, but the human variety of thief put him on alert the most. Only once had someone tried to sneak in and steal from him. Between Ben going berserk and Dusty cocking a gun in the man’s face, the man wasn’t about to return anytime soon. Even if he got released from jail early.

“What is it, Ben?” Grabbing his handgun, Dusty followed his dog, pausing to silently turn the knob on the door that led to the stable. Cracking the door open, he let Ben through first, then snuck out behind him. The dog didn’t make a mad dash, bark or growl. Instead he wandered into the middle of the aisle and sat down.

Perplexed, Dusty lowered his gun and flicked on another set of lights. “Well, I’ll be damned.” He stared in disbelief as Mischief stood to one side, tugging at a bale of hay. While he watched, the mini pulled out a mouthful and lifted his head, chewing happily as he glanced up at Dusty.

“How did you get out?”

Dusty glanced toward the stall, finding the door standing ajar. Luckily, the skittish filly remained inside. Walking over, he shut the stall door and headed over to Mischief. “Let me guess, you needed a midnight snack?”

The horse eyed him haughtily and snatched another bite of hay.

Plopping down on the bale, Dusty took his time sizing up the white horse. “I have a feeling you’re going to live up to your name.”

The horse snorted, blowing specks of hay all over Dusty.

Not in the least upset, Dusty rubbed the horse’s head and grinned. “Yeah, I know. You’re a growing boy. Growing outward, that is.” He noted the round belly on the small horse. Horses loved to eat. Mischief, despite his size, proved no exception. With a chuckle, Dusty gathered up a section of hay and led the horse back toward his stall. He tossed the food in the center of the stall and nudged Mischief back in. Both horses corralled once more, he re-latched the stall door, called Ben and headed back to bed.

* * * *

Just after the crack of dawn, April strode into the stable through the large gate at the entrance, automatically searching for Dusty. She figured he had to be around since the gate wasn’t locked and only a fool would run off without securing valuables. Dusty might be stubborn and built like the fabled Adonis, but he wasn’t a fool.

Still finding no sight of him, she headed to the stall containing her horses. The last thing she wanted to do was go banging on his door when the poor man happened to be in the bathroom. That would surely put him in a cranky mood for the morning.

The night before she’d stuck around after grooming the animals, watched him bring in all of the horses, groom most of them, then pour out feed for each. Even with her own, he’d refused to allow her to carry the heavy buckets inside. Instead he’d asked her to hold the filly while he carefully entered the stall and fed them, one bucket in the holder, another on the ground in the corner since he didn’t have a second, lower device to hold Mischief’s bucket. The entire time he spoke gently to Miracle, holding the feed between them so she realized his intentions. Though a bit anxious, she hadn’t made any aggressive moves. A definite plus.

Glancing across the aisle, April looked over the horses with interest. Three of the mares had foals at their sides, all absolutely adorable. Dusty’s prize palomino stud occupied the end stall, his gleaming golden color catching the morning rays like a chunk of the rare mineral. A white blaze and four white socks matched his mane and tail, the combination more than flashy.

A door clicked. Ben emerged first, followed by Dusty. The dog made a beeline for her even as Dusty’s gaze met hers. Automatically, she reached down to pat Ben’s head. “What? No pajamas?”

“I don’t wear any during the summer.”

Not expecting his blunt answer, she felt her jaw drop open. “Well, ummm…” Tongue-tied, she tried to kick her errant mind into gear.

His dark eyes sparked for a moment before his face fell into a serious expression. “Don’t you have to work like everyone else?”

She straightened her back and lifted her chin. Granted, he’d asked a reasonable question, yet the words put her immediately on the defensive. “As a matter of fact, yes. I do work.” She sucked in a breath. “If you had actually read my contracts, you’d already know I’m a nurse at Three Points Hospital. I work twelve-hour shifts, three days per week. I’m off the next two weeks on vacation in order to get my horses and make sure they’re settled.”

Mischief lipped at her fingers. She reached in to scratch around his ears. “If it makes you feel any better, I return to work after that, so I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

He stared at her for a long minute as a tic began in his jaw. “I was just asking, not criticizing.” With that said, he headed to a stack of buckets and started pouring out grain.

A soft, appreciative smile lit her face when the shirt pulled tight over his arms and back as he lifted the fifty-pound feed sacks to pour into each plastic tub. He repeated the action over and over again. The flex and tug gave the shirt a workout, which got her pulse pumping. She licked her lips. There was nothing like a powerful man in his prime. She could stand there all day, watching him work. Then once the task was done, follow him into the shower, run a washcloth over his ripped physique and drag him to bed to ride ’em hard—cowgirl style.

There go my hormones again. Shoving the erotic thoughts aside, she opted to actually make herself useful.

She wandered over and grabbed up the first container. “Who does this go to?”

He looked up at her in surprise. “I can get it.”

“I know. But instead of standing around like a bump on a pickle, I’d prefer to help out.”

He studied her for a moment before gesturing to the closest stall. “That’s Bobbie’s. The little bay closest to us.”

Carrying the feed, April opened the stall, found the holder and set the bucket down. Before she secured the door, she heard crunching sounds from a hungry mare. She hurried back, watched Dusty fill another couple of buckets, and grabbed the next container. “This one?”

“That’s Rule’s. I’ll take his.”

She released the handle and moved ahead in the line. “That’s your stud, right?”

“Take that one to Hailey. The black filly on your left.” Dusty walked over, picked up Rule’s feed and headed toward the back stall. “Yeah. He’s a grand champion quarter horse. I’m lucky to have gotten him at a decent price.”

“You raise your own stock then?” She did as bidden, making her way to yet another horse.

“Very few. Two of the colts are mine. The third belongs to a boarder.” He returned, picked up another bucket and headed back down the middle of the lane.

“Why so few? I’d think people would be looking for well-bred horses to buy.”

“The economy hit horses hard, leaving an abundance, as you already know. Even those who show horses have cut back. While several pay a stud fee to use Rule, I limit the number of mares I breed to two each year. One day I might want to expand the operation, but right now I’m doing good with small numbers that I can handle.” He handed her the next one as she approached. “Turnip, the sorrel gelding that looks like he’s asleep all the time.”

She grinned. “That’s what happens when you’re old. Naptime is warranted.”

His lips twitched. “I suppose so.” He grabbed up a couple of buckets and made his way to her horses. He quietly slid the stall door open and stepped in.

April held her breath, debating hurrying over to assist or giving Dusty a chance on his own. Standing still, she watched Miracle’s ears flatten only to lift a hair as he began speaking to her, then gradually flip back and forth as if she couldn’t decide what to do in this particular situation. He moved lazily across the front of the stall, holding the bucket of feed out to her the entire time. She stared at him for a couple of minutes as if debating the risk and danger of getting too close to a man, then stretched her neck out just far enough to gather a few oats off the top. After she chewed those she repeated the action, gradually becoming bolder. By the time Dusty settled the bucket in the holder, Miracle had eaten part of her breakfast with him holding the bucket and appeared somewhat comfortable.

“Wow. You do have a touch.”

He stepped out of the stall, securing the door behind him. “She just needs time and a reason to believe.” Without stopping, he headed straight for the few remaining buckets. “These go to Tulip and Tansy, the bay mare with the star on her forehead and her baby. You’ll have to hold the bucket for the foal or Tulip will push her out.”

“Okay.” Gathering up the items, April walked to the stall, stepped in, gave the big mare her food and held the smaller bucket for the pretty little black foal. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Dusty finishing the morning chore, petting Ben’s head as he walked by, then pouring some kibble into a bowl. A tortoiseshell cat trotted out of an empty stall, hurried over and proceeded to chow down. Dusty changed out her water as well as dumped a bigger bucket outside before refilling it, presumably for the dog. Cracking open a can, he emptied the contents into another bowl and added dry food alongside. Ben dove right in.

All around animals crunched and ate. April soaked up the sounds and the feeling of peace and contentment. It reminded her of a slower time when life boiled down to the basics, free of the rat race and full of the small things that made the day a bit brighter. She savored the moment and realized she’d found a special place.

Her eyes landed on Dusty as he plopped down on a bale of straw next to Ben. He rubbed the dog’s back and glanced up as if sensing her gaze. They stared at each other before April’s attention turned to a still-hungry mare looking for a few more kernels of grain from the baby’s breakfast.

Something in his eyes touched her. A flash of pain, a sparkle of hope. The man had suffered in his past. Lois’ words came back to her. ‘Dusty doesn’t care for women.’ A man who looked like he did surely he didn’t lack offers or feminine attention. Most likely he’d found himself on the losing end in one or more relationships which shaped his outlook on dating. She could empathize.

Glancing up, she found him still looking straight at her. Her belly flipped in sensual delight as her breathing hitched. His eyes could reach into her very soul while his tempered voice could soothe a raging demon. A heady combination.

Wounded he might be, but she knew he had so much more to give. Anyone who worked with horses like he did couldn’t be cruel or mean. No. He’d probably just withdrawn from the dating scene like she’d done years before.

Maybe, like her filly, he needed someone to believe, to trust, and to show him not everyone in this world was out to cause harm. Maybe she needed to step up and be the one.

Like I have any experience with men. She snorted to herself. Make that any good experience. Perhaps if she showed him they had similar experiences with difficult pasts, they could learn from each other?

Yeah, right. With my luck? Pigs had a better chance of growing wings than she did of finding a great man and living happily ever after.

The foal finished eating. She collected both buckets and paused to study Dusty once more as he ran his hands down Ben’s back in a gentle caress.

Lonely and hurt. He looked like a man who could use a friend of the two-legged kind. How could she turn her back on him?

I can’t.

Friends it is. Decision made, she left the stall and paused when she heard a latch rattle loudly. Locating the sound, she watched in amazement as the lock on her horses’ stall door slid back and the door opened wide. Mischief stepped out and whinnied.

She burst out laughing as the mini found obvious delight in his accomplishment.

Dusty shook his head and chuckled, the humor lighting up his face and eyes, making him all the more handsome.

April’s breath caught at the difference in the man. Straight white teeth flashed as amusement washed over him. Delectable.

“Why, you little escape artist.” As if hearing his name, Mischief trotted over to Dusty and nuzzled him.

What Dusty whispered in the horse’s ear, April couldn’t hear. Yet the sight moved her. Such a strong man, who so far had showed little happiness, now laughed and whispered to a small horse as if sharing age-old secrets. She felt a bit jealous of her little troublemaker.