Riding Hard. Vicki Thompson Lewis
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firm. “I’m not authorized to admit any animals this week. Perhaps you’d like to come back at the end of the month when the owners are here.”
“Can’t wait that long, ma’am. I can’t feed her no more. I’ve run through the money I got from selling my stud and I can’t find work.” The man could have been anywhere from thirty to fifty years old, but he’d obviously lived a hard life judging from his weathered skin and resigned expression.
“I wish I could help, but—”
“I came this close to selling Dottie to a guy in Jackson, but he wouldn’t have treated her right. I’m beggin’ you to take her.”
“If she’s valuable, and I can see that she probably is, surely you can find someone you trust who would buy her.”
“No time. Got an eviction notice for the place I rent yesterday. I’m out of feed for Dottie and out of options. I heard about this rescue operation and figured it was my last hope to put her somewheres she’d be looked after.”
Tracy heard the desperation in his voice. This wasn’t some jerk who’d grown tired of his responsibility. The man genuinely loved his mare and was terrified something bad would happen to her because he’d lost the ability to provide for her.
Last time Tracy had taken care of Peaceful Kingdom, all twelve of the barn’s stalls had been occupied. But Regan and Lily had worked hard to adopt out the young and healthy horses. Six of the residents were so old and feeble they’d live at Peaceful Kingdom forever. Two others needed to learn some manners before they’d be ready to go. Four stalls stood empty.
It wasn’t her place to fill even one of them. She’d be acting against orders if she did. But this situation tugged at her heart. She met the cowboy’s gaze and made her decision. “I’ll take her.”
His shoulders dropped and his eyes grew suspiciously moist. “Thank you, ma’am. Thank you.”
His gruff tone choked her up a little, too. “Let me get the form for you to fill out.” She hurried back to the house and returned in a flash with a clipboard, an intake form and a pen before doubts could change her mind. She held them out to him. “We need some information for our records.” Regan and Lily would understand. They had to.
If possible, he looked even more miserable. “Sorry, ma’am. I can’t.”
For a split second she thought he was refusing to fill out the form, but then she realized he was illiterate on top of his other problems. “No worries. I’ll do it. Just tell me what to write.”
The man’s name was Jerry Rankin. He’d bought Dottie as a foal ten years ago, when times were good for him. Once Tracy started asking questions, Jerry offered all sorts of details that weren’t on the form.
When he’d been blessed with steady work, he’d bought an Appaloosa stallion with plans to start a breeding operation. His wife had handled the paperwork, and all had gone well. They’d bred the horses and sold three foals. But then his wife had died after an illness that ate up their savings, and he’d lost his job.
When Tracy finished filling out the form, she glanced up. “Can you sign your name?”
“My wife taught me that much.” He took the clipboard and pen and painstakingly wrote his name in awkward block letters.
“Thank you, Mr. Rankin.”
“Jerry’s good enough.”
“Jerry, then.”
“I surely do appreciate this.” He handed over the lead rope, but the mare stayed right by his side. Then he dug in the pocket of his worn jeans. “I ain’t got nothin’ but change, but I’ll give you what I—”
“No, no. That’s okay. You keep it.” She felt like offering him money, instead. “I don’t know if you’ve checked into this, but the county has programs if you find yourself...a little short.”
He nodded. “I know. I might consider that.” He returned the coins to his pocket. “Much obliged to you for taking Dottie. That’s a load off my mind.”
“You’re welcome.”
“She’s a good horse.”
“I’m sure she is.”
He stroked the Appaloosa’s nose. “You be a good girl for the lady, you hear?”
The mare turned her head and nudged his chest.
“I know. I’ll miss you, too. It’s for the best.”
Tracy swallowed a lump in her throat. “Mr. Rankin...Jerry, she’ll be right here. If things should start looking up for you, you can come and get her.”
He touched the brim of his battered cowboy hat. “That’s right nice of you, ma’am.” His voice grew husky. “I’ll...I’ll keep it in mind.” He stroked Dottie’s nose once more and started for his truck.
“We’ll take good care of her,” Tracy called after him.
He didn’t respond other than to give a brief nod.
The mare turned her head to gaze after him. Then she nickered.
Tracy feared she might start bawling. Apparently she wasn’t cut out for this kind of work. She hoped that dealing with people problems turned out to be less emotionally difficult than dealing with animal problems. Otherwise she wouldn’t be a very effective psychologist.
Dottie nickered again as the truck and trailer pulled through the gate.
“Come on, girl.” Tracy rubbed the mare’s silky neck. “Time for a cozy stall and some oats. I’ll bet you haven’t had any of those in a while.” She exerted firm pressure on the lead rope and Dottie followed her obediently to the barn, proving that she was, as Jerry had said, a good horse. Tracy settled her into an empty stall at the far end of the barn and gave her the promised bucket of oats. The mare ate them greedily.
“Okay, this was a good decision...I guess.” Tracy leaned on the stall door and watched the mare. She was a good-looking horse, the color of rich cream with a rump speckled in black.
“The thing is, Dottie, I know nothing about prenatal care, and I’ll bet you could use a few vitamins and minerals.” Gazing at the horse’s extended belly, she realized she didn’t know how far along the mare was. It hadn’t been on the form, but she should have thought to ask, anyway.
She considered her options. She could call the vet in Jackson, who would charge a pretty penny to evaluate the mare and prescribe vitamins. She’d been instructed not to accept any animals, so adding an expensive vet visit seemed wrong when she could get the same services for free. All she had to do was call Drake Brewster.
Yeah, right. So easy. Just call up Mr. Gorgeous-But-Untrustworthy and ask him to give his professional opinion on the pregnant mare she’d just taken in against Regan and Lily’s specific instructions. She wondered if Drake would mention that she’d overstepped. Probably not, considering his history. Talk about overstepping. He’d written the book on it.
Still, she knew Regan and Lily would want her to call Drake instead of the vet in Jackson. No question about that. If she phoned Drake, he’d come right over. The guy didn’t seem to have a full schedule. And he’d be very nice. Charming, even. Of course he was charming or he wouldn’t have been able to talk Regan’s fiancée into going to bed with him.
At least, Tracy assumed that’s how it had gone. She couldn’t imagine a woman cheating on Regan unless she’d had too much to drink and had been wooed by a master of seduction like Drake Brewster. Tracy was outraged by what he’d done. She was disapproving, scandalized and...so embarrassing to admit, titillated.
Face it, the man was breathtaking. She’d heard his disreputable story before he’d ever walked into Spirits and Spurs. Everybody in town had, and they were all ready to give Drake the cold shoulder and condemn Regan’s fiancée in absentia. But when Drake finally did come