The Rancher's Wife. April Arrington
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won’t be necessary,” she said.
She inhaled and whistled around two fingers. The melodic sound traveled across the expanse of the paddock, perking up the horses’ ears and rebounding off the stable walls. Lightning shot to attention, spun and galloped toward the fence. He drew to a halt, dipping his broad head over the top rail and nuzzling his nose against her shoulder.
“Good boy,” she crooned, kissing Lightning’s forehead and resting her dark head against his thick neck. “You’re still a beauty.”
“He oughta be a beauty,” Dominic said. “Logan’s been babying him for the last four years.”
Logan grunted, rubbing Lightning’s back. “There’s nothing wrong with a little extra attention. And he deserved it. He’s pulled his weight on the trails. Every new guest we get requests him.” He looked up to find Amy’s eyes clinging to his. “You trained him well.”
Amy rolled her lips, a smile fighting at the corners of her mouth. “I wasn’t alone in that. Besides, you were the one that trained me, remember?”
“I remember,” he whispered.
He reached out and tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. The silky feel of it lingered on his fingertips, heating his blood.
Amy stepped back, eyes sifting through the rest of the horses. “Where’s Thunder?”
Logan stiffened. Of course she’d ask about Thunder. That black stallion had always been one of her favorites, along with Lightning. He curled his fists around the fence rail.
“Logan?” Amy’s hands covered his, her face creased with worry. “Where is he?”
Logan glanced at Dominic. He winced, his dark eyes moving to hover over the stables in the distance.
Logan sighed. He should’ve prepared for this. Should’ve had something ready to say. The last thing Amy needed right now was bad news and he didn’t want to be the one to deliver it. Unfortunately, there was no way around this.
Logan shoved off the fence and took Amy’s hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the fragile skin of her wrist. “Come on. I’ll take you to him.”
* * *
AMY SHIVERED. THE warmth of the sun faded and the approaching darkness sent a chill through the air. It sliced beneath her flesh and traveled to her bones, forcing her to huddle closer to Logan’s side. His big hand tugged, leading her away from the paddock and down the winding trail to the stables.
The tight set of Logan’s jaw and his continued silence froze the blood in her veins. She scanned the path before them, following the familiar curves to the stable where she’d spent the majority of her childhood days.
Every morning, she’d raced to the stalls to plop at Logan’s feet and watch him groom the horses. And every afternoon, she’d returned to lean in the doorway and wait for his return. The image of him mounted on his horse, slowly crossing the field, seemed emblazoned on her memory. She was certain the image of her idolizing expression remained imprinted on his.
Her face flamed despite the cool bite of winter air. Amy lifted her chin and straightened the collar of her blouse with her free hand. None of it mattered. There wasn’t any point in seeking out old comforts. Or reliving past humiliations. She wasn’t staying long enough to enjoy one or endure the other.
She craned her neck, peering past the open doors of the stable for a glimpse of Thunder’s dark hair. She knew the exact shade. Years ago, when she’d delivered the foal, she’d stayed to watch Thunder rise on trembling legs then spent the next week smoothing her hands over his black mane.
Logan’s hand tightened around hers and he slowed his step. “There was an accident a couple of months ago.” He stopped inside the stable entrance, drawing her to a halt. “One of the guests took Thunder out without permission. Some arrogant young suit on vacation, playing at being a rancher for the week.”
His mouth firmed into a tight line, throat moving on a hard swallow.
“He knew Thunder was a jumper. Drove him over a few fences and off the lot.” He released her, hands shoving deep into his pockets. “Raintree probably looked endless to him, being a city boy and all. He left the ranch and ran Thunder right into the highway.” He looked back across the empty fields, shoulders sagging. “Those transfer trucks don’t stop for anything out here. Don’t know if he was trying to race or didn’t see the truck coming, but their paths crossed.”
Amy froze. Thunder was a strong stallion, ripped with muscled bulk and impressive speed. But he’d be no match for a transfer truck. Not the kind that sped along the isolated highways surrounding Raintree.
“Was he...?” Her throat constricted, the question catching.
“No.” Logan’s black eyes shot to her face and his deep voice softened. “You know Thunder. He’s not going down without a fight.” A grim smile curved his lips. “He reared, bucked that boy off him and jumped. Almost made it out of the way.” His expression darkened. “But almosts don’t cut it. He got clipped and was banged up pretty bad. We thought for sure he wouldn’t last the night but he did. He’s not the same, though. Whole thing scarred him bad. Turned him wild. None of us have been able to make any headway with him.”
Amy scanned the empty stalls lining the stable, eyes scrambling from one to the next.
“Only thing that saved the guest was Thunder’s instincts,” Logan said. “That kid came out of it with a few cuts and bruises. A lot less than he deserved.” He cleared his throat. “I wish I’d kept a closer eye on him. He was a reckless rider. And a selfish one to boot.”
Amy took in the hard set of Logan’s jaw. He’d always been controlled and practical but he had a soft spot for his horses. Often went to extremes to protect and care for them. It was one of the many things she still admired about him.
She touched his arm, fingers resting lightly against the hard curve of his bicep. “You’re not meant to control people any more than horses. You can only lead them. How many times did you tell me that over the years?”
Amy’s gut clenched, a surge of shameful heat flooding her. Logan had repeated the mantra a thousand times when she’d struggled with training a horse. She could still see his somber expression as he’d delivered the sentiment, but she’d never really listened. Instead, she’d pushed the boundaries of their friendship and tempted him into a different relationship. Had tried to control him all the same.
Logan withdrew his hand from his pocket, capturing hers and smoothing his thumb over her wrist. “He’s not the same, Amy. You still want to see him?”
She nodded.
Logan took her elbow, guiding her down the aisle past the empty stalls to a large one tucked in the back. An eerie stillness settled around them. The front of the stall remained empty, a dark bulk huddling in the back corner.
Heart pounding, Amy leaned closer and secured her purse strap on her shoulder with shaky fingers.
“Hey, boy,” she whispered.
There was no response. Only the stallion’s heavy breathing disturbed the silence.
“Thunder?” She took a small step forward, palm pressing to the stall guard and fingers wrapping around the bars. “Hey, b—”
A hoof slammed into the bars, the edge of it ramming against her knuckles and rattling the stall door on its frame. Amy jumped back, heels clacking over the bricked floor and catching on the slight crevices in between. One cracked loose in the process.
Logan’s strong arms wrapped around her right before she slammed into the floor. Her purse dropped from her shoulder and tangled around her ankles, contents spilling out. The relentless pounding continued, Thunder’s kicks increasing in intensity and echoing around them.
“Are you okay?” Logan reached for her injured hand.
“I’m