Home To Blue Stallion Ranch. Stella Bagwell
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stall. As T.J. had informed him, the colt was looking remarkably stronger since his birth yesterday. The fact that the first-time mare was now bonding with her baby was a huge relief and he smiled as he watched her lick the white star on the colt’s forehead.
“He’s a good-looking boy. Big boned, bright eyed and straight legs. By the time he’s a weanling, he’ll be strong and sturdy.”
The unexpected female voice had him whirling around to see Isabelle Townsend had walked up behind him. The sight of her at any time of the day would’ve surprised him, but he doubted it was daylight yet. Blake had told him she’d probably return to the ranch today, but he’d not mentioned she might show up at five in the morning!
“Ms. Townsend,” he said in the way of greeting. “You’re out early.”
To his surprise, she must’ve forgiven his nasty behavior yesterday. There wasn’t anything sarcastic in the smile on her face. On the contrary. It was warm enough to chase away the chill in the barn.
“Yesterday you were too busy to deal with me. This morning I came early in hopes I’d catch you before that happened.”
He had a thousand and one things to do, including eating the meager breakfast he was carrying in his pocket. He didn’t have time for Isabelle Townsend. Not this morning, or any morning. But he’d promised Blake he’d be a gentleman and one thing Holt never wanted to do was break his word to his big brother.
“I was headed to my office. If you’d like to join me, we can talk there.” He turned away from Ginger’s stall. “Have you had breakfast?”
“No. But I’m fine. Sometimes I don’t bother with that meal.”
From the looks of her, she didn’t bother with eating much at all. Yesterday he’d noticed she was petite. This morning, he could see she was even smaller than he remembered. Even with the heels of her cowboy boots adding to her height, he doubted the top of her head would reach the middle of his chest. The notion struck him that he could pick her up with one arm and never feel the strain.
But he had no plans to get that close to their pretty neighbor, Holt decided. Not unless she wanted him to.
Walking to his office, Isabelle was careful to keep a respectable distance from Holt Hollister. She had no idea if Emily-Ann’s remarks about him being a ladies’ man were true or just rumors. Either way, she didn’t want to give him the impression that she was interested in anything more than his horses.
“You must have assumed I start the day early,” he said.
“All horse trainers start the day long before daylight,” she replied. “That is, the good ones do.”
He let out a dry chuckle. “Does that mean you put me in the company of the good ones?”
His voice was raspy, like he’d just lifted his head from the pillow after a long sleep. The sound shivered right through her.
“I’ve heard a lot about you, Mr. Hollister, but I don’t go by hearsay. So I can’t really answer your question—yet.”
Her reply didn’t appear to annoy him, rather he had an amused look on his face. “I’ve heard some things about you, too. But I don’t rely on hearsay either.”
Isabelle couldn’t imagine what he might have heard about her. She doubted it could’ve been much, though. Since she’d moved here, she’d only made a few acquaintances around town.
At the end of the barn, he opened a door on the left and motioned for her to proceed him through it.
Isabelle stepped past him and into the small room that looked more like a tack room than an office. Jammed with a messy desk, two wooden chairs, and a row of file cabinets, it was also littered with bits and bridles, saddle blankets and pads, leather cinches and breast harnesses. In one corner, there was even a worn saddle thrown over a wooden sawhorse.
“Have a seat,” he invited. “You might want to wipe the dust off first, though. We don’t do much cleaning out here in the barn. It doesn’t do much good.”
“I’m used to dust.” And mud. Rain and snow. Heat and cold. Early and late. In the horse business, a person had to get used to all those things and much, much more.
While she settled herself in one of the wooden chairs sitting in front of the desk, he placed the stainless steel vacuum cup he’d been carrying on the desktop, then walked over to a heater and adjusted the thermostat.
Back at the desk, he took a seat in a leather executive chair and picked up the receiver on a landline telephone. After punching a button, he promptly said, “Reeva, as soon as Jazelle shows up—oh, she has—that’s good. Send her on with the pastries, would you? And more coffee.” He paused. “That’s right. The horse barn. Not the foaling barn. Thanks.”
He hung up the phone, then leveled his attention directly on Isabelle. “My brother Blake tells me you’ve bought the old Landry ranch. Are you living there now?”
Isabelle nodded. “I am. The Landry family had been out of the house for a long time and it needed some repairs. Fortunately, I’ve gotten most of them done. At least to where the place is comfortable now. The barns and utility sheds were in far better shape than the house. There are still areas of the ranch that need plenty of work and changes made, but it’s good enough for me to start adding horses to the ones I already have.”
He looked somewhat surprised. “You already have horses?”
“That’s right. Ten in all. Two geldings for work purposes and eight broodmares that are currently in foal to a stallion back in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I don’t have a stallion of my own yet. But like I said yesterday, I’m looking to buy. Preferably a blue roan that’s proven to throw color and produce hearty babies.”
He suddenly grinned and Isabelle felt her breath catch in her throat. She could definitely see why the rumors of being a ladies’ man followed him around. He was charming without even trying. But she’d been around men of his caliber before. They weren’t meant to be taken seriously.
“We’d all like one of those, Ms. Townsend.”
She shook her head. “Please call me Isabelle. After all, we’re neighbors. Even if it is eighteen miles to my place.”
“Okay, Isabelle. Since you seem determined to add to your workload, I’ll show you a few mares I might be willing to part with. But I don’t have a stallion I want to sell. Maybe in a year or two. But not now.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “That’s okay. I’ll be happy to look at anything you have.”
The room was getting nice and warm so Isabelle untied the fur-edged hood of her jacket and allowed it to slip to her back. As she shook her hair free, she noticed he was watching her as though he was trying to gauge what was beneath the surface. The idea was disturbing, but it didn’t offend her. She was a complete stranger to the man. In his line of business, he had a right to wonder about her character and how she might care for the animals he sold her.
“You mentioned Albuquerque. Is that where you’re from originally?”
She shook her head. “No. I was born in California and lived there all of my life until I, uh, married and moved with my husband to New Mexico.”
Beneath the brim of his battered gray hat, she could see one of his dark brows quirk upward.
“Oh. You’re married then?”
She felt like telling him that her marital status really had nothing to do with her buying horses. But she didn’t want to irk him again. At least, not before she had a chance to do business with the man. Besides, her being a divorcée was hardly a secret, even if it was something that made her feel like a failure as a woman.
“No. I’ve been