Her Tycoon to Tame. Emilie Rose
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his unspoken message loud and clear.
Her defiant gaze drilled him. “You didn’t request, Mr. Jacobs. You ordered. And I’m not refusing. I’m postponing your tour until after I’ve handled this emergency.”
Her exasperation came across loud and clear despite the pretty-please smile punctuating her sentence. No doubt that smile worked on most men. Not him.
“Let’s go, Jeb.” Hannah rushed from the lab.
The kid hesitated, as if trying to decide who was in charge, but then he mistakenly fell in behind his cohort. Taken aback by Hannah’s insubordination and the kid’s loyalty, Wyatt rocked on his heels. Then he reconsidered. This wasn’t the case of a woman standing up for her convictions. Hannah was a spoiled daddy’s girl who believed the rules didn’t apply to her. He’d teach her and her flunky differently.
He followed the pair, intent on firing Hannah, giving her follower a warning and informing the veterinarian that Sutherland Farm was no longer a dumping ground for unwanted animals of any kind. Hannah might not be able to say no, but Wyatt had no such problem.
Ahead of him Hannah and Jeb raced down the driveway heedless of the rain. They veered off the paved surface and onto a gravel track leading to a building set behind a copse of trees several hundred yards from the main barn. Wyatt climbed into his Mercedes and drove the distance rather than get soaked.
Once he pulled off the asphalt, the uneven ground tested his car’s suspension. Considering the pristine condition of the rest of the property, the neglect surprised him. He made a mental note to speak to the manager about ordering a load of gravel to fill the potholes.
A pickup truck with a horse trailer attached had backed through the barn’s open doors. He parked beside it and surveyed the stone building through the rain streaming down his windshield. The smaller barn had the same architecturally attractive design as the other barns, but the structure, like the driveway hadn’t been as well-maintained as the rest of the farm. Odd.
He climbed from his car, then squeezed between the trailer and doorjamb. While the outside of the building lacked sparkle, the interior was as spotless as a barn could be. The combined scents of fresh shavings, hay and oats ambushed him with memories of happier times with Sam.
The trailer’s rear ramp had been lowered into the center hallway. Inside the metal enclosure a horse danced restlessly in the right compartment, its feet thumping hollowly on the rubberized mat covering the steel floor.
Hannah occupied the left half of the trailer, a rib-high divider separating her from the agitated creature. She stroked the animal’s withers and back, and spoke calmly. “It’s okay, girl. You have nothing to fear. We’re going to take good care of you.”
Her quiet, soothing tone contrasted with the impatient one she’d used with him each time he’d asked a question this morning.
The horse responded with a panicked sound that raised the fine hairs on Wyatt’s body. It had been almost fifteen years since he’d been around horses, but even he recognized the animal’s terror.
Firing Hannah would have to wait until she wasn’t in physical danger. Distraction in the workplace was an invitation to disaster. “Get out of there.”
“In a minute,” she replied without raising her voice. “Okay boys, let’s ease her out and see what we have.”
“You’re not gonna like it,” an older gentleman wearing muddy jeans and a battered field jacket said as he came from behind the trailer and clapped Wyatt on the shoulder. “Best not to get behind this one, son.”
Wyatt flashed back to his teens. He’d heard the same warning from Sam too many times to count when Sam had been at the top of his game and lucid all the time and not just intermittently.
Hannah scowled at Wyatt across the distance. “I’ll call you when I’m done.”
“I’m not leaving.”
“If you stay, you’ll end up getting in the way or getting hurt.”
“I worked on a thoroughbred farm from the time I was fourteen until I went to college. But don’t unload that horse. It needs to go back to wherever it came from.”
Her expression turned belligerent. “That’s not an option—a fact the police will confirm if you pick up the phone and ask for Officer—”
“Harris,” the veterinarian supplied when Hannah arched an eyebrow.
Her continued defiance rasped against Wyatt’s last nerve. “I don’t want that animal on this property.”
Hannah descended the ramp and didn’t stop until they were toe-to-toe, chest to chest—so close he could taste the mint on her breath and feel the heat steaming from her rain-dampened clothing.
He fought to keep his attention from the way her white polo shirt had turned almost transparent. Fought and failed. The wet fabric clung to her hard-nippled breasts and outlined her thin white bra. His hormones reacted the way a healthy man’s would and, try as he might, he could not control the sudden increase in his pulse rate.
“Mr. Jacobs, Wyatt, if you feel the same way after I’ve examined her, we’ll discuss other arrangements. But for now, please step aside, and let me do my job.”
“I thought you were the breeding specialist.”
“I only work a half day on Saturdays. In my off hours I wear a different hat.”
“Have you forgotten who pays your salary?”
“You’re not likely to let that happen. Give me an hour to examine the mare and see what we’re dealing with. This could be a matter of life and death. I’m not ready to take a life without just cause. Are you?”
“Are you always so melodramatic?”
“Hardly ever,” she answered deadpan.
Her determination impressed him. “Make it quick.”
“Thank you.” She returned to the trailer, apparently undaunted by the agitated creature’s dancing.
Under her direction the trio coaxed the horse down the ramp in fits and spurts. The mare’s hesitant steps alternated with nervous hops and skips, then in a sudden backward lunge the horse launched from the trailer kicking up a spray of shavings. Once the dust settled the wild-eyed animal quivered in the hall, its terror-widened eyes taking in the scene.
Then Wyatt saw what the shadowy trailer had concealed. Open sores and scars crisscrossed the emaciated back, haunches and muzzle. Bloody rings circled the mare’s back legs just above the hooves.
She’d been abused. His gut muscles seized and rage blazed within him. “Who did this?”
The vet shook his head without taking his eyes from the animal. “Mean SOB who owned her. I hope the cops give him a taste of his own medicine. A billy club upside his head would be a nice touch.”
Hannah handed the lead rope to Jeb then eased around the horse without ever lifting her palm from the animal’s dull, scarred hide. Wyatt recognized the trick as one Sam had employed. By never losing contact, the horse always knew where you were and wouldn’t be startled.
“You know animal abusers get a slap on the wrist at best, Will.” Her frustration came through loud and clear even though she kept her tone low and even. “She doesn’t look good.”
“Nope. Not much to work with,” the vet replied. “She wouldn’t have lasted another week in that hellhole.”
Wyatt focused on the deep gouges and bloody fetlocks. Now that the fight had drained out of the mare her head hung low as if she were resigned to whatever came next and fighting took more energy than she possessed. She’d probably been a beauty once, but now she was nothing more than a broken shell. She looked ready to collapse. Her spirit seemed broken, her usefulness in doubt.
Like Sam.
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