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Riding High
Vicki Lewis Thompson


Saddle up!There ain't a rider that can't be thrown. And large-animal veterinarian Regan O'Connelli was thrown hard when he discovered his fiancée with his best friend. Now he's starting his life over at the Last Chance Ranch, run by the tightly knit Chance clan. But damned if his libido hasn't perked up over the spirited redhead who looks a lot like trouble….Lily King is the queen of anti-structure. Turns out, that makes running a horse sanctuary a challenge. Regan's help is exactly what Lily needs–not to mention the seriously sexy sparks that are flying between them. Now she just has to convince this fallen cowboy to dust himself off and get back in the saddle…and into her bed!







Saddle up!

There ain’t a rider that can’t be thrown. And large-animal veterinarian Regan O’Connelli was thrown hard when he discovered his fiancée with his best friend. Now he’s starting his life over at the Last Chance Ranch, run by the tightly knit Chance clan. But damned if his libido hasn’t perked up over the spirited redhead who looks a lot like trouble….

Lily King is the queen of anti-structure. Turns out, that makes running a horse sanctuary a challenge. Regan’s help is exactly what Lily needs—not to mention the seriously sexy sparks that are flying between them. Now she just has to convince this fallen cowboy to dust himself off and get back in the saddle…and into her bed!







What could be hotter than a cowboy in June?

How about a cowboy in July, August,

and under the mistletoe, too!

New York Times bestselling author Vicki Lewis Thompson is back in the Mills & Boon Blaze lineup for 2014,

and this year she’s offering her readers even more….

Sons of Chance

Chance isn’t just the last name of these rugged Wyoming cowboys—it’s their motto, too!

Saddle up with

RIDING HIGH

(June)

RIDING HARD

(July)

RIDING HOME

(August)

And the sexy conclusion to the Sons of Chance series,

A LAST CHANCE CHRISTMAS

(December)

Take a chance…on a Chance!







Dear Reader,

I support animal rescue organizations no matter what species they’re rescuing. Although my favorite shelter these days is The Hermitage No-Kill Cat Shelter in Tucson, I’ve also volunteered at Best Friends Animal Sanctuary in Kanab, Utah, where they take in almost any creature, including potbellied pigs!

I had an up close and personal experience with these adorable creatures, and yes, one of them was named Harley. The real Harley is way better behaved than the fictional one I created for this story, but how else was I going to arrange that first kiss between Regan and Lily without a misbehaving pig? And you know there will be lots of kissing and…other stuff, because we’re starting a whole new summer of the Sons of Chance!

I’ve had such fun with this series, and apparently, so have you, so here we go again! Take one equine veterinarian who craves order, and one genius-level woman determined to save every animal on the planet and let them do whatever they choose, and you have a beautiful mess. Throw in the Chance family, who can be helpful or meddlesome, depending on the circumstances, and you have Riding High. I can’t wait for you to read it! You’re gonna love those pigs.

Charitably yours,

Vicki


Riding High

Vicki Lewis Thompson






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


ABOUT THE AUTHOR

New York Times bestselling author Vicki Lewis Thompson’s love affair with cowboys started with the Lone Ranger, continued through Maverick and took a turn south of the border with Zorro. She views cowboys as the Western version of knights in shining armor—rugged men who value honor, honesty and hard work. Fortunately for her, she lives in the Arizona desert, where broad-shouldered, lean-hipped cowboys abound. Blessed with such an abundance of inspiration, she only hopes that she can do them justice. Visit her website, www.vickilewisthompson.com (http://www.vickilewisthompson.com).


To Mary Jo LaBeff, friend and colleague. Your feature article about an equine rescue organization near Tucson inspired me to write Lily’s story. Thank you for that and dozens of great conversations about the writing life!


Contents

Prologue (#u274ea14b-5b9a-5dfb-a2d2-5a1b7728e151)

Chapter 1 (#u3543b88f-b73e-5e15-9694-429fabde5d4f)

Chapter 2 (#u9b0d125f-adce-5fab-9685-5fd5fcbc3d04)

Chapter 3 (#uf0f9be7c-76e1-587a-8420-6f0747f958de)

Chapter 4 (#u9c5e09f9-6bab-5c8c-a828-1a0e3a5d1e73)

Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)


Prologue

June 10, 1990, Last Chance Ranch, from the diary of Eleanor Chance

THANKS TO MY grandson Nicholas, we have another orphaned puppy ensconced in the boys’ room upstairs. Nicky calls him Hercules, and he’s supposed to stay in his box because he’s not housetrained yet. The whining has stopped, so it’s a safe bet the little bugger’s in Nicky’s bed. Mark my words, we’ll be washing sheets in the morning.

I know it’s foolish to imagine what profession a child will take up as an adult, but I’m convinced that Nicky is going to be a vet. Yes, I realize he’s only eight and boys his age change their minds on a regular basis. One day they want to be a firefighter, and the next they’d rather drive an eighteen-wheeler, or maybe fly a jet.

Nicky’s different. He brings home enough strays to start a shelter if we were so inclined. But that’s not why I figure he’ll end up running a veterinarian clinic when he grows up. Half the time the animals he rescues have some injury or other. This puppy has a torn ear and a limp, and instinctively, Nicky knows what to do. It’s remarkable for a boy so young.

Henry Applegate, our large-animal vet from Jackson, makes regular visits to the Last Chance, and Nicky follows him around like a rock-star groupie. He watches every move that man makes and asks so many questions it’s a wonder Henry doesn’t complain. I guess he’s flattered that Nicky idolizes him so.

Fortunately Jonathan and Sarah are encouraging this interest. Jonathan agrees that his middle son has a gift, and Jonathan’s already hoping that Nicky will one day take over the medical care of the Last Chance horses. Personally, I’m glad there’s at least one steady boy in the batch.

Jack, the oldest, has a wild streak and is guaranteed to turn his father’s hair prematurely gray. Gabe, the youngest, is the most competitive kid I’ve ever known. Jonathan plans to enter him in cutting-horse competitions when he’s old enough. Now that school’s out for the summer, Gabe’s driving us all crazy setting up contests of every kind. Yesterday it was rope climbing. Today it was an obstacle course. Thank God he doesn’t expect me to participate! I could probably climb that rope and navigate the obstacle course, but I’d rather not find out I couldn’t. Now that I’m almost eighty, I prefer to maintain my illusions.

Whoops, gotta go. Nicky’s calling for us. He says Hercules peed in his bed. Now there’s a shocker.


1

Present day. Shoshone, Wyoming

DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN. Regan O’Connelli, DVM, parked his truck outside the large double gate of Peaceful Kingdom Horse Sanctuary, nudged his Stetson back with his thumb and leaned his forearms against the steering wheel while he contemplated the sight before him. If his hippie parents ever ran an animal rescue operation, it would look like this.

Nick Chance, his brother-in-law and business partner, had mentioned that Lily King was slightly...different. Judging from the psychedelic colors she’d painted the ranch house, the barn and the outbuildings, different was an understatement. Even though he was wearing his Ray-Ban sunglasses, the neon green, pink, orange and turquoise hurt his eyes.

She had to be the one who’d chosen the color scheme. She’d taken over from an elderly couple two months ago, and prior to that, it had been too cold to paint. Maybe if she’d stuck with one color per building, the effect wouldn’t have been so startling. But a pink barn with turquoise doors and trim was wrong on so many levels. It was a wonder the horses agreed to go inside.

Or maybe they’d refused. He counted at least twenty of them milling around the property, which was a dozen more than Nick had told him to expect. There was a corral—he could see it from here—but the gate was open—accidentally or on purpose? He had a feeling she’d meant to keep it open so the horses wouldn’t feel constrained by any artificial boundaries. His parents would have done that sort of thing, too.

Regan wished Nick had given him a little more information before sending him off on this mission of mercy. All he knew was that Lily’s parents were two of Nick’s favorite high school teachers and their daughter had an extremely high IQ, although she’d never stuck with one major long enough to earn a degree when she attended Berkeley. She had, however, invented a video game that continued to pay royalties, and she’d wanted to do something charitable with the money.

Maybe Nick had been vague about Lily’s free-spirited persona because he knew Regan’s history. Regan and his seven siblings had lived a vagabond existence with their parents, traveling the country in a van painted the same colors Lily seemed to favor. Nick wouldn’t want to make fun of Lily’s setup and insult Regan’s folks in the process.

Everybody at the Last Chance Ranch had come to love his unconventional parents, Bianca Spinelli and Seamus O’Connor. Regan loved them, too, even if they had saddled their kids with the surname of O’Connelli to avoid hyphenating O’Connor and Spinelli. They’d also given each child a gender-neutral first name to prevent stereotyping. Grade school had been hell, especially because the family had moved constantly and the name thing had to be explained every time they’d enrolled somewhere new.

Regan had forgiven his well-meaning parents long ago, but Lily’s paint job brought up memories he’d rather forget. He had a job to do, though, and the color of the buildings had no bearing on that. Nick, who’d invited Regan into his vet practice six months ago, had volunteered out here for several years when the Turners had run the place. Nick had said he was grateful Lily had come along. Without her sudden decision to buy it, the sanctuary would have closed.

Regan agreed that Lily was performing a valuable service, so he was prepared to do his part. As he climbed out of his truck and closed the door, a second truck pulled up. He didn’t recognize the middle-aged couple inside, but he instantly identified the crated animal in the back of the truck.

When the man left the driver’s seat and started toward the tailgate, Regan walked over to find out what was going on. “Looks like you have a potbellied pig there.”

“Yes, sir, I do.” The man adjusted the fit of his ball cap. “If you wouldn’t mind, I could use a hand carrying the crate. My wife helped me get Harley up there, but I think she did something to her back in the process. Harley’s put on a lot of weight since we got him.”

“They tend to do that.” Regan made no move to help with the crate.

“We didn’t figure on him getting this big. When he was little, we’d let him in the house, but now he’s even too big for the patio. We like to barbecue outside in the summer, and with Harley’s mud hole expanding by the day, it’s impossible.”

Regan’s jaw tightened, although he knew this kind of thing happened all the time. People saw a cuddly baby animal and took it home while conveniently forgetting that baby animals grow into adults. “Where are you taking him?”

The man looked at Regan as if doubting his intelligence. “Isn’t that obvious?”

“Not to me. This is a horse sanctuary, and what you have there is a pig.”

“True, but I know for a fact the lady running the place accepted a pig last week from a guy I work with. So if she took one pig, I imagine she can take another. I’ll make a donation to the cause. If you’d grab one end of the crate, I’d be much obliged.”

“Before we do that, let’s make sure she’ll take him.” Regan didn’t know a lot about animal rescue, but asking first seemed like common courtesy.

“She’ll take him. My buddy said she’s a softie.”

Regan held on to his temper with difficulty. “She may be, but if there’s a potbellied-pig rescue organization in the area, that would be a better place for Harley.”

“Look, mister.” The man’s eyes narrowed. “This is the day I set aside for handling this problem. My wife and I managed to get the pig into the crate and into the truck, which wasn’t easy. If you’re not gonna help me with the crate, step aside and I’ll do it myself, although God knows what that’ll do to my back.”

“Hey, guys, what’s up?” On the far side of the gate stood a young woman of medium height with the kind of bright red hair that made people take a second look. It was so kinked it fanned out like a lion’s mane. Unlocking the gate, she stepped out and refastened it. She wore a tie-dyed shirt knotted at her waist, faded jeans and scuffed boots.

Regan told himself to ignore the cuteness factor as she walked toward them. Nick could have mentioned that, too. Or the fact that sunlight made her hair glow. Maybe happily married Nick didn’t notice those things anymore. “Lily King?”

“That’s me. I’ll bet you’re Regan, the vet who moved here from Virginia. Nick said you’d be coming today instead of him.”

“Right.” At her approach, his senses went on alert. She smelled great, like a fresh meadow, and as she drew nearer, he noticed the freckles scattered across her nose, as well as her intensely blue eyes fringed with pale lashes. No makeup to speak of. It should all add up to wholesome, but instead she looked sexy and approachable. Good thing he wasn’t in the market right now. “Listen, this guy has a potbellied pig he wants to—”

“So I gathered.” She glanced up at Regan, laughter in her gaze, as if they shared a secret.

Oh, yeah. Sexy lady. And he didn’t think she was trying to be, either, which made her all the more interesting.

“And I could use a hand with the crate, people.” The man had adopted a martyred tone.

“I’ll help you.” Lily started toward the tailgate.

“Hang on a minute.” Without thinking, Regan grabbed her arm and felt her tense. He released her immediately, but not before feeling firm muscles under her sleeve. This was no delicate flower. He admired that. “Is there a potbellied-pig sanctuary where he could go, instead?”

“There is, but last I heard they’re at capacity. I already have one pig, so—”

“Told you,” the guy said to Regan, folding his arms and looking smug.

“So I think Wilbur would be happier if he had a friend,” Lily said. “I’m willing to take this pig.”

Regan accepted defeat. “In that case, I’ll help carry him.”

“Thanks.” She gave him a brilliant smile. “I’ll get the gate.”

Moments later, the crate was inside the chain-link fence that surrounded the approximately five acres of her property and the couple had left without making the donation the husband had promised. Regan wasn’t terribly surprised. “Where should we take him now?”

“I’ll let him decide where he wants to go.”

“Maybe that’s not such a—” But she’d already unlatched the crate and Harley burst forth in an apparent frenzy of joy. The horses trotted out of his way, and he flushed several chickens, which rose up in a cloud of feathers and angry clucking.

Chickens?

Lily smiled as she watched the pig cavort. “See how happy he is?”

“You have chickens?”

She shrugged as she continued to follow Harley’s progress with her gaze. “It’s the new thing to get chickens and have fresh eggs every morning. Urban farming is very in. But when the thrill is gone, people don’t want those chickens. I’ve had a few people ask, and I’ve got room, so why not? Oh, look. Here comes Wilbur to see his new friend.”

Regan watched as a considerably smaller potbellied pig came around the end of the ranch house and approached Harley. “What if they fight?”

She laughed, and the warmth of that laugh said a lot about her. She was obviously an optimistic soul who believed everything would turn out well. “Then you and I can wade in and separate them, I guess. But they’re not going to fight. They like each other. See? Is that sweet or what?”

He had to admit the pigs seemed okay with each other, but it could have just as easily gone the other way. Then one of the horses, a sway-backed buckskin gelding, walked calmly past the pigs and began munching on what was left of a flower bed in front of the ranch house porch. “You let him do that?”

“If it makes him happy.”

“Then I guess you don’t care about having plants there.”

She turned to face him. “I took over the sanctuary because I want to give these horses a home and a sense of self-worth. If they want to eat the flowers, so what? They’ve been arbitrarily yanked away from the life they used to know, so they deserve to be spoiled, right?”

“Philosophically, yes. Practically, no. These are two-thousand-pound animals, and they need to live by a set of rules. In fact, all domestic animals function better that way.” Kids, too. He and his siblings had been given more freedom than they’d known what to do with. Somehow they’d avoided the serious consequences of that freedom, but he shuddered when he thought of how their lives might have turned out.

“I disagree.” She said it cheerfully, though.

“Is that why you don’t have the horses confined in the corral or the barn?” Or did the horses stage a rebellion when they caught a glimpse of that pink-and-turquoise monstrosity? The jury was still out on how well horses could see color. At the moment Regan wouldn’t mind a little color blindness, himself.

“Exactly. I let them wander as they wish, and they all show up in the barn at mealtime. When it’s cold, they tend to stay in there during the night, but they’re welcome to go wherever they want on the property.”

“Makes my work more complicated if I have to chase them down.”

She nodded. “That’s what Nick said. He’d rather have them all in one place when he comes out, and I meant to close them in the barn while they ate breakfast. But the sunrise was so beautiful that I got distracted. Before I realized it, they’d all eaten and headed out. Once they’re loose, it’s nearly impossible to get them in again until dinner. I should have arranged for you to come before mealtime, instead.”

“Next time I’ll do that.” He sighed. “Guess I’d better get started.”

“I’ll help, but I wonder if...”

“If what?”

She hesitated, her expression earnest. “Would you consider, just this once, rescheduling for this evening?”

“Well, I—”

“Never mind. That’s asking too much. You probably have a wife or a girlfriend who expects you for dinner.”

“I don’t, but that’s not the issue.”

“And there’s the matter of making a second trip. I’ll help you catch them and we’ll get ’er done. I know I’m too lax with them, but I think about the fact that the poor things have never been in charge of their lives, and that’s why I like to give them more control over their comings and goings. I promise next time I’ll remember to keep them in the barn when you’re due to arrive.”

He gazed into her solemn blue eyes. Only a man of stone wouldn’t warm to the compassion shining there, even when he knew she didn’t have the faintest idea how to run this operation. “Have you spent much time around horses?”

“Not until I took over the sanctuary, which was a leap of faith. I wanted to come back home and do something good for the community, and this place really spoke to me. Now I’m around horses 24/7.”

Déjà vu. Either of his parents could have delivered that kind of speech, except that none of their seat-of-the-pants decisions had involved horses.

“And you know what?” Her expression grew more animated. “They’re such individuals! Buck, the one who likes to eat the flowers, is really stubborn, while Sally, that little bay mare over there, is shy. You have to coax her to be friends, but once she trusts you, she’ll follow you around like a dog. I have to watch out she doesn’t try to come in the house.”

Oh, boy. So at least one of the horses had started crowding her, a typical power move. No doubt they all sensed that Lily wasn’t the leader of the herd. She didn’t understand that they’d take more and more liberties until some of them would become unmanageable and even dangerous, both to themselves and to her.

But she was genuinely fond of them after only two months, and he didn’t want to mess with that. Homeless animals needed all the friends they could get, so he’d tread lightly. But she was going about this all wrong. If she didn’t create some order and discipline soon, the situation could become unworkable.

Yeah, Nick could have been more forthcoming. Regan wondered why Nick hadn’t put a stop to this laissez-faire attitude of hers. Regan planned to ask. In fact, he had a whole list of questions now that he’d been here.

Glancing around, he calculated how much time he’d need to rope each horse and do an exam. Even with her help, it would take too long, considering the other appointments he’d scheduled today. The horses might not be cooperative, either. Nick hadn’t been to Peaceful Kingdom since early May, so no telling how they’d react to being examined after a month of doing as they pleased. “Maybe I should come back during their dinnertime, after all.”

“That really would be better. Tell you what. If you’ll do that, I’ll feed you supper.”

“That’s really not necessary.” He’d bet the keys to his truck that she was a vegetarian, maybe even vegan.

“I know, but it would make me feel better about inconveniencing you. Please say you’ll stay for dinner.”

“I wouldn’t want to put you to any extra trouble on my account.” Some people could make vegetables taste yummy and others couldn’t. The minute he’d left home he’d reverted to being a carnivore, and so had his brothers and sisters. Even his parents weren’t as strict these days, especially when they hung out at the Last Chance Ranch.

She grinned at him. “You think I’m going to serve you sprouts and tofu, don’t you?”

Apparently she was good at reading expressions and had figured out why he was hesitating. “Are you?”

“Nope. I make a veggie lasagna that’s out of this world. My parents love it, and they’re dyed-in-the-wool carnivores.”

“Real cheese?”

“Absolutely. I haven’t hitched my wagon to the vegan concept yet. I still might some day, but I do love my cheese and ice cream.”

She really was adorable. Had he been looking for adorable...but he wasn’t. A mere six months ago he’d been kicked in the teeth, romantically speaking, and that had left a mark. “Then I accept. What time?”

“I feed the horses around five.”

“I’ll be here a little after five, then. It’ll be much easier to examine them when they’re each in a separate stall.”

“Uh, they won’t all be in separate stalls. About half won’t, actually.”

“Why not?”

“I have twelve stalls and twenty-one horses, so most of them double up.”

Regan looked more closely at the pink-and-turquoise barn. Judging from the size of it, those twelve stalls wouldn’t be oversized. “So you have a space problem?”

“I’m afraid I do.” She gazed at him with those soulful blue eyes. “The thing is, I can’t help but say yes.”

That comment shouldn’t have had a sexual connotation. But long after he’d driven away from the Peaceful Kingdom Horse Sanctuary, her words floated around in his traitorous brain.

She appeared to be a free spirit. That didn’t necessarily mean she would embrace the concept of a no-strings affair, but it might. The thought created a pleasant ache in his groin. He hadn’t felt that surge of desire in some time. Apparently he’d repressed it, because sure enough, thinking of sex brought up what had happened back in Virginia. Last Christmas Eve he’d found Drake Brewster, his best friend and business partner, in bed with Jeannette Trenton, his fiancée. That discovery had affected him more than anyone knew.

Jeannette had accused him of being cold-blooded because he’d refused to discuss it afterward. Instead, he’d handled the situation with surgical precision. Within a week he’d moved out of their shared condo, ended their engagement, sold his share of the veterinary practice to Brewster and relocated from Virginia to Jackson Hole, where Nick Chance had welcomed him into his practice. The move had been a no-brainer. He couldn’t continue to work with Brewster after what the guy had done, and the previous summer Nick had mentioned needing a partner in his clinic.

Even more compelling was the prospect of being surrounded by family while he put his life back together. Nearly twenty years ago his folks had spent several months in Jackson Hole. His older sister Morgan had loved the place so much she’d vowed to return. When she finally made good on that promise to herself, she’d met and married Gabe Chance. Thus had begun the growing connection between the Chance family and the O’Connelli brood.

Next, Regan’s twin sister, Tyler, had married into the Chance extended family. She was happily hitched to Alex Keller, brother of Jack Chance’s wife, Josie. And most recently, eighteen-year-old Cassidy, youngest of the O’Connelli siblings, had apprenticed as the ranch housekeeper.

Sarah, the Chance family matriarch, had insisted that Regan stay at the Last Chance until he’d decided whether to live in town or buy some acreage. Six months later he was still there soaking up the ambiance. He’d never lived in a place that felt more like home, and he craved that sense of permanence.

For half a year he’d managed to convince himself that he’d moved past that fateful Christmas Eve when two people he’d trusted had betrayed him. He hadn’t dated, but that seemed natural under the circumstances. Lily was the first woman he’d met who interested him, which was ironic. All the evidence suggested her philosophy of life was exactly like his parents’ and the complete opposite of his.

But did that matter? He wasn’t ready for anything serious. As for Lily, if she was the least bit like his parents, she’d grow bored with the horse sanctuary eventually and search for a new challenge somewhere else, so she wouldn’t be around long.

But while she was, maybe they could hang out together. During their conversation she’d slipped in a comment about a potential wife or a girlfriend. Sometimes that meant a woman was trying to find out that information for her own reasons.

He’d know soon enough. She didn’t strike him as a woman who was into mind games. No, she seemed forthright, playful and creative. Instead of wincing at her paint job, he should rejoice, because it told him that she enjoyed having fun. It had been so damned long since he’d had fun.


2

LILY STOOD BY the gate and waved as Regan drove away. She continued to watch until the plume of dust kicked up by his truck’s tires disappeared. Long after he was gone, she stayed where she was, lost in thought. Regan O’Connelli was a pleasant surprise, even if he had informed her that she needed to change how she was running the sanctuary.

He’d meant it in a helpful way, though, and he might have a point. Nick had hinted at the same thing, but she’d been so convinced the horses deserved spoiling that she hadn’t paid much attention. Besides, he was Nick, someone she’d known since she was a precocious whiz kid and he was one of her parents’ favorite students in high school. He behaved toward her like the big brother she’d never had, and she expected him to dispense advice, most of which she would ignore.

In this case, maybe she shouldn’t have ignored it. She was a little embarrassed by how quickly her situation was getting out of hand. Each day she worked to be more efficient, but then a new horse would arrive and she’d struggle to get all her chores done.

She probably shouldn’t accept any more horses, but how could she turn them away if they had nowhere to go? She needed to find homes for some of them, but she hadn’t figured out the adoption part of the plan. Come to think of it, the Turners hadn’t mentioned it, either. They’d both been a little absent-minded during the transfer of ownership, and she hadn’t thought to ask.

Regan might have some suggestions. She smiled to herself. The guy was hot. As she finally admitted that she’d noticed that, she laughed. His hotness was the real reason she was standing here dreamy-eyed over her new vet.

He was one juicy dude, in a Johnny Depp kind of way. That comparison couldn’t be confirmed until she’d found out whether he had dark eyes, and he’d kept his bad-boy shades on the entire time, darn it. What a great idea, inviting him to dinner so he’d be around after the sun went down.

Maybe he’d kept the shades on because he had sensitive eyes, but she wondered if something else was going on with him. Sunglasses could also provide emotional protection. She’d always been super conscious of people’s emotions, and after hanging out with rescue animals, she picked up on their moods, too. Understandably, many of the horses had trust issues, and she’d felt the same vibe coming from Regan.

Buck plodded over and nudged her from behind, so she turned to give the sway-backed horse some neck scratches. “I could be wrong, Buck, old boy, but I think that guy might need to be rescued as much as the rest of you around here.”

The horse bobbed his head, and Lily smiled. “Thanks for validating my hypothesis.” She patted his neck and reached for the cell phone in her back pocket. “Let’s see if Dr. Chance agrees with me.” She scrolled through her contacts and called Nick.

He answered on the second ring. “How’d it go with Regan?”

“Fine. You busy?” Holding the phone to her ear, she set off in search of the two pigs. They were probably okay, but she wanted to make sure.

“Yeah, I’m an extremely busy and important man, but for you, I’m willing to postpone my critical work for a few minutes.”

“You are so full of it. I’m convinced you passed my mom’s class purely on your ability to BS.”

“I might’ve. But I aced your dad’s science class with a minimum of BS. Just ask him.”

“Don’t have to. You two have a mutual admiration society going on.” She located the pigs wallowing in the large mud pit she’d dug a few days ago for Wilbur. Harley was going to fit right in. “I like Regan a lot, although he’s already telling me I’m doing this horse thing wrong.”

“What does he think you’re doing wrong?”

“Letting the horses roam the property, for starters.”

“Well, Regan prefers more order than that, but those six horses are pretty old. I don’t think it’ll hurt to let them have some freedom in their golden years.”

“I, um, have more than six, now. And they’re not all in their golden years.”

“Oh? How many do you have?”

“Twenty-one.”

“Good golly, Miss Molly! What did you do, advertise?”

“Not exactly, but I’ve talked to people when I go into town. Oh, and I redesigned the website and made sure it came up on all the search engines. It’s a kick-ass site, if I do say so.”

“I’ll bet.”

“I guess the word got out that I was here and had room for more horses.”

“I’m sure it did.” Nick was quiet for a bit. “Lily, you don’t have room in your current barn to keep twenty-one horses forever. You’ll have to renovate that barn and add more stalls.”

“What do you mean, forever? Won’t people come and adopt some of them?”

“Not usually. You have a sanctuary, which means you take in animals that are too sick or old to be ridden anymore and you keep them until they die.”

“Oh.” How embarrassing. She hadn’t understood the basic premise of the project she’d taken on. “What do you call a place where you adopt out some of the horses?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe an equine rescue facility. But not a sanctuary.”

Lily swallowed. “Well, that’s what I need this to be, then, an equine rescue facility, at least for the animals I’ve taken in since I arrived. They’re not old and ready to die. People didn’t want them, so I accepted them. I thought that was what I was supposed to do.”

“It’s okay. No harm done. But you can’t ever adopt out those original six. They’re there for the duration.”

“I did figure that, but the barn holds twelve, and I thought it was a shame for the other stalls to go to waste.” Still, she felt like an idiot.

“Don’t worry. You can sort this out. What’s your plan for the adoption process?”

“Um...I’m working on it.” She hated to admit that no plan existed yet, but it couldn’t be that hard. She’d had no trouble finding people who wanted to get rid of horses, so now she needed to find the other half, the ones who wanted horses. “I should also probably mention the chickens.”

“What chickens?”

“Rescue chickens. I have nine of them.”

“How the hell did that happen?”

“I said yes to one person, and before you know it, I had nine.”

Nick sighed. “Do you know anything about chickens?”

“Enough to know I don’t want a rooster!”

“That’s a start.” He didn’t sound quite as confident now.

“I’m okay with the chickens, Nick. Mom and Dad had some a few years back, so they’re helping me figure it out. I also have two potbellied pigs. You’d be amazed how much info Google can dig up on potbellied pigs.”

“Good Lord. You know, Lily, you don’t need to accept every animal that shows up at your gate.”

“That’s what I tell myself, but I worry what will happen to them if I don’t.”

He sighed. “Yeah, that’s a problem when you get into the rescue business, but here’s the deal. You have accepted twenty-one horses, nine chickens and two pigs. I’m sure they keep you busy.”

“They do.” She had almost no downtime these days. She hadn’t played a video game in weeks, and her meditation practice was shot, but so far she’d kept up with the critters.

“Think about the animals you already have before you take in any more, okay? You owe those animals your best, and the larger your numbers, the less you’ll be able to give them your best.”

“I could hire help.”

“You could, but you’re still limited to the space you have. When winter comes, you’ll want to keep the horses in the barn most of the time, and that barn’s not big enough for twenty-one horses.”

“I could add on or build another one, like you said.”

“But where does it stop? Are you planning to buy more land and just keep building barns? How big an operation do you want?”

Lily took a deep breath. “I don’t want a big operation. I love this property just the size it is. It suits me, and the idea of employees gives me hives. I’d have to fill out IRS stuff and get them health insurance and learn how to be the boss of them.”

“If you don’t want to expand, you know what you have to do.”

“Right. Turn away any incoming horses until I adopt some out and make room.” Her stomach hurt. How could she refuse to take a homeless animal? That would kill her.

“Good. And about letting them roam everywhere, you might want to—”

“I know. Regan pointed out that they won’t be adoptable unless they have good manners, and some of the younger ones aren’t all that well behaved. A couple of them act like they want to fight with each other. I probably need to stop letting them run loose.”

“Yes, you do. They need to adapt to normal restrictions or nobody will want them. A well-trained horse is much easier to adopt out.”

For the first time since she’d moved onto the property, she felt uncertain that she’d done the right thing. She should have asked more questions instead of blithely leaping into something because it had sounded cozy. She’d liked the idea of doing something good for the planet. On the surface a horse sanctuary had seemed romantic and not particularly complicated. She’d loved the name of the place. Someone with the last name of King should have a kingdom, right?

If she’d understood that she was only supposed to take care of animals on their last legs, she might not have bought Peaceful Kingdom. Sure, somebody needed to do it, but she didn’t have the temperament. She’d be bored out of her tree, which might have been why she’d encouraged the locals to bring in more horses and liven things up.

Now she had to whip these newly acquired equines into shape fast and find them good homes so she could keep taking in the needy ones that would be lining up outside her gate with woeful expressions in their beautiful big eyes. The word was spreading, and in tough economic times, many people couldn’t afford to keep the horse they’d bought in a burst of optimism. That was the story most everyone had given her when they’d arrived at her gate.

Her next admission was so hard to make. “Nick, I don’t know how to train a horse.”

“That’s no problem. You’re a smart person. I’ll talk to Regan and see if he can help you. I’ll help you, too, when I can, but Regan has a little more free time than I do. He’ll probably agree. He’s a good guy.”

She latched on to this new topic with relief. “Speaking of Regan, what’s his deal, Nick?”

He hesitated. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t have to tell me if you shouldn’t, but I get the impression something bad happened to him recently. He seems...wounded.”

“What made you think that?”

“He didn’t take off his shades.”

“He examined all the horses with his sunglasses on? That doesn’t sound like Regan. He’s usually super professional.”

“He didn’t examine the horses. He’s coming back tonight when they’re all in the barn.” As she said it, she realized that expecting him to make a second trip really was ridiculous. Both Regan and Nick were right. She had too many horses and no control of them. That had to change.

“So what did he do while he was out there, if he didn’t examine the horses?”

“Helped carry the pig crate in here, and then we talked for a little while. That’s when he mentioned that I might be headed down the wrong road here at Peaceful Kingdom.” She gazed at the porch rail Sally was currently chewing on. Then she walked over and gave the mare a swat on the rump. Sally barely flinched and kept chewing. “So am I right? Is Regan hiding behind those shades?”

“I never thought about it before. He does wear them a lot. Most of us are fine with using our hats to shade our eyes. Sunglasses just get in the way.”

“He had the hat on, too. Double protection. I just thought, if he’s going to be advising me, I should know if there are certain subjects to avoid. I don’t want to stumble over a psychological land mine.” That was absolutely true. Regan was beginning to look like her savior, and she didn’t want to tick him off accidentally. She’d already created a problem for herself with the horses. She couldn’t afford to make the situation worse by alienating someone who could help.

Nick was silent for a moment. “I suppose it might be good for you to know. Everyone at the ranch does. But you can’t tell him I told you.”

“I won’t.”

“Okay, last Christmas Eve, he found his fiancée with his best friend.”

Lily’s chest tightened. “In bed?”

“Yeah.”

“Damn.” Now she wished she hadn’t been right about Regan’s vulnerability. “No wonder he’s wearing shades. I would, too. I’ve never had a fiancé, but I can imagine that would feel pretty awful, especially if it was with your best friend.”

“Don’t let on that you know, although maybe it is better that you do know. We all feel protective of him. He’ll be fine, but I don’t think he’s totally over it yet.”

“How could he be? Poor thing. It’s only been six months.” That meant he was off-limits to her, though. She had no interest in being some gorgeous guy’s rebound girl, even if she did want to soothe his wounded heart. She’d tried that once and it hadn’t turned out well. The rebound girl served a purpose, she’d discovered, but once that purpose was gone, so was the guy, which left the girl feeling used. “Anyway, thanks for filling me in.”

“You bet. Gotta go. He just walked into the office.”

“Okay. ’Bye.” She disconnected the call. What a shame about the fiancée and the best friend. Good to know, she supposed, and she owed Nick big-time for telling her. But her Johnny Depp fantasy had officially bitten the dust.

* * *

TECHNICALLY, REGAN SHOULD be frustrated as hell with the situation in Lily’s pink-and-turquoise barn. The quarters were cramped and the horses tested him continually. He’d countered every attempt to gain control with a stern word and a flick of the lead rope. So far that had kept any misbehaving animals in line.

But he’d had to remain vigilant. He should hate being here in this chaotic environment, except that it also contained Lily, who watched his every move. She asked excellent questions and took detailed notes on her phone, which he found endearing.

Earlier today he’d talked with Nick, who’d clarified the sanctuary-versus-rescue mix-up. Regan hadn’t been clear on the terms until then, either, but now he understood a little better how Lily had landed in this mess. Nick had wanted to know if Regan could spare some time to help her. Damn straight. Catching a glimpse of her bright hair and ready smile made his heart lift. He wouldn’t mind coming out here on a regular basis. It would be no sacrifice at all.

At last they were done, and she turned to him. “Should I keep them inside tonight so they’ll start getting used to the idea?”

“It’s pretty crowded. How about if we split them up and lead a few into the corral, instead?”

“That’s a good plan, except the gate’s broken. Mr. Turner told me he’d meant to fix it, but his arthritis was so bad he never did.”

“How broken is it?”

“It’s coming off the hinges. I decided not to worry about the corral, so I don’t know if it could be easily fixed or whether I need a whole new gate.”

“Let’s leave them in here for now and take a look.”

She nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

As he walked with her toward the corral, he noticed that the orange-red glow of the sunset matched the color of her hair. Nice. But the setting sun also brought out the unusual colors of the ranch buildings, prompting him to ask the question that had been nagging him for hours. “Why did you paint the buildings such...unusual colors?” He was proud of himself for substituting unusual for god-awful.

“Several reasons. First of all, these colors make me happy. I also like doing the unexpected thing to keep me from being bored. Nobody in this area has a pink-and-turquoise barn or an orange-and-green ranch house.”

“That would be true.”

“Besides that, I wanted to make sure people could find the place, and you have to admit that the colors make it stand out.”

“Also true.”

“But you don’t care for them.”

He smiled to soften his response. “No, not really.”

“I’m not surprised.” She said it in a conversational tone, as if his answer hadn’t fazed her in the least. Apparently she’d been expecting him to turn thumbs down.

Damn, now he wanted to know why. Did she think he was too boring to appreciate her creativity? Had he come across as someone with no imagination who always did what others expected? That was a stodgy image he wasn’t crazy about, but it might be accurate.

In any case, he didn’t have to worry about hurting her feelings. Obviously she didn’t need his approval to feel good about her choice of paint, and she’d accepted his comment without taking it personally.

Her attitude made him look at the colors differently. Why shouldn’t she be surrounded by colors that made her happy? It was her place, after all, and a little paint wasn’t going to hurt anything. If it shook people out of a rut—stodgy people like him, for example—that could be a good thing. And she was right about making the place easy to find.

“I may have made the place too accessible, though.” She paused and turned toward him. “The truth is, Regan, I blundered into this without the necessary skill set, and that’s embarrassing. I don’t have the foggiest idea what I’m doing, other than I want to help homeless horses.”

“That’s a good start.” Her honesty touched him. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. If everybody waited until they had the necessary skills before they started something, we’d still be living in caves.”

“What a nice thing to say.” Gratitude shone in her eyes. “Nick said he’d ask you about helping me. Did he?”

“Yeah.”

“Will you? Do you have time?”

He didn’t even have to think about it. “I’ll make the time.”

Her expression brightened. “Thank you, Regan.”

As he gazed into her eyes, the pressure that had constricted his chest for months began to ease. Exercise hadn’t eliminated it, and neither had booze. But granting one heartfelt request from Lily King made him feel lighter than air.

He should be thanking her. He wanted to stick around and see if she had any other miracle cures up her tie-dyed sleeve. An emotion washed through him, one he couldn’t immediately identify. Then he figured it out. For the first time in ages, he was happy.


3

LONG BEFORE THE sun went down, Lily found out that Regan had brown eyes. He’d taken off both hat and sunglasses while he examined the horses. Whenever he’d glanced up to discuss something with her, she’d looked into the velvet depths of those brown eyes and wished like hell he hadn’t been dumped so recently.

Later on, he’d delivered a line guaranteed to make a woman swoon—I’ll make the time. He’d compounded the effect of that by demonstrating that he knew exactly how to fix her broken gate. A man with multiple skills—now that was sexy. She was handy with a paintbrush, but she hadn’t taught herself to use the array of tools Mr. Turner had left her.

She would learn eventually, but watching Regan took away a big chunk of her incentive, especially after he rolled up his sleeves to reveal the play of muscles as he worked. She’d have no trouble being into Regan O’Connelli. As she held the gate steady while he reattached the hinges, she wondered what sort of idiot would cheat on a guy who seemed so special.

Then she chastised herself for making a snap judgment. She didn’t know the whole story, only the version presented by Nick, who was clearly biased in Regan’s favor. There might have been extenuating circumstances. If she kept her distance as she planned, she’d never know.

Maintaining that distance would be more of a challenge than she’d counted on, though. He was definitely a wounded man in need of comfort. She’d sensed it when they’d met, but at that point his shields had been firmly in place.

Apparently his thinking had changed in the intervening hours, because now he was lowering those shields. She heard it in his voice, as brisk efficiency was replaced with mellow goodwill. His body language was more open, too. No more crossed arms or clenched jaw when he talked with her.

But mostly she saw it in his eyes. They flashed with interest now instead of wariness. Fortunately she could resist those flashes of interest. What sucked her in were the brief moments when she glimpsed sadness and pain in those beautiful brown depths.

If a more powerful aphrodisiac existed, she didn’t know what it was. Responding to it was a huge mistake, as she’d long ago discovered to her sorrow. But he was a gorgeous man with a broken heart, and what woman wouldn’t yearn to help him heal?

This woman. Taking a deep breath, she tightened her resolve to keep Regan at arm’s length. She’d learned her lesson, right?

“That should do it.” He swung the gate back and forth a couple of times and made sure the latch fastened securely.

“Thank you.” She gave him a smile and vowed to get comfortable with repair work. The less she needed from Regan, the easier it would be for her to resist temptation.

“Let’s gather a few horses.” He started back toward the barn.

She fell into step beside him. “I promise that’s the only handyman chore I’ll ask of you.”

He shrugged. “It’s no problem. I’m used to repairing things.”

“Maybe so, but if I’m going to run this place, I should make friends with hand tools.”

“I would agree with that. Shouldn’t be too tough for you to learn. Nick said you were a smart cookie.”

“He did?” That pleased her. “Just out of curiosity, what else did he tell you about me?”

“That you created a video game that’s paying for all this.” He swept an arm to encompass the property. “That’s impressive.”

“I guess. But I’m not sure it makes much of a contribution to the betterment of humanity.”

“Why, is it violent?”

“God, no. I’m not into that kind of game. It’s about elves and magic. There is a dragon, but he’s more comic relief than scary. If you give him enough treats, which are increasingly hard to come by as the game goes on, he doesn’t cause problems.”

“Sounds like fun. Maybe we could play it some—” He was interrupted by the high-pitched scream of a horse followed by several loud thuds. “Shit.” He took off at a run toward the barn.

Lily ran after him, her heart thumping. Two of the geldings, a big roan named Strawberry and a palomino named Rex, had never cared for each other. She’d put them in different stalls with horses they seemed to like, so it couldn’t be them fighting, could it?

Regan beat her into the barn and grabbed a lead rope from a peg on the wall. He strode quickly to Rex’s stall. The palomino bared his teeth at a young gelding named Sandy who had never caused a single problem since he’d been brought in two weeks earlier. Sandy cowered against the far wall, eyes rolling with fright. At least he didn’t seem to be bleeding anywhere.

“Hey!” Regan’s voice rang out. Opening the stall door, he walked in, the tail end of the lead rope flicking back and forth in front of him. “Back off!” He edged into position and snapped the rope in front of Rex’s face.

Lily held her breath. A rope didn’t seem like much protection against a riled-up horse, but it was working some kind of magic on Rex. The palomino backed up a step, and then another.

Regan followed and kept that rope dancing in front of Rex’s nose. Then, in one quick move, he clipped the front end of the rope to Rex’s halter and pulled the horse’s head down. “Enough of that, mister. We’re going for a walk.”

As Regan led Rex from the stall, Lily stood to one side and gave them room. “What can I do to help?”

“Latch the door after me, then walk ahead and open the corral. We’ll put him in there to cool off.”

“Right.” She wanted to comfort Sandy, but that would have to be put on hold. After securing the stall door, she waited until Regan and Rex had left the barn before scooting around them and heading for the corral.

As she passed Regan, she heard him talking to Rex in a low, soothing voice. She didn’t like to think about what would have happened if Regan hadn’t been here. Of course, if he hadn’t, the horses would have been free to leave the barn once they’d eaten, so this confrontation wouldn’t have happened in the first place. Rex was used to eating and leaving for a far corner of the property. He usually took several horses with him. This time he’d been kept inside while all twenty-one animals were examined, and then the humans had disappeared without letting him loose. Apparently that hadn’t sat well with him.

After opening the gate, which moved smoothly on its hinges, Lily watched Regan approach with the horse. Rex ambled along as if he had nothing on his mind besides walking docilely toward the corral. He didn’t crowd Regan the way Buck tended to crowd Lily, but he didn’t hang back, either. Instead he behaved like the well-trained horse he might be if someone like Regan was in charge.

Speaking of the bodacious Dr. O’Connelli, he looked mighty fine coming toward her with that loose-hipped stride that emphasized the fit of his jeans. Each time he put a booted foot forward, the denim stretched across his thighs. She couldn’t help but notice that. Any woman worth her salt would agree that he was one good-looking dude.

Fate wasn’t being kind to her. She’d broken up with her steady boyfriend last fall. He hadn’t approved of her plan to leave her job with a tech company in Silicon Valley and find a worthwhile charity to support in her hometown. Instead he’d been after her to create another moneymaking game and buy a Porsche or some other stupid luxury car.

She didn’t miss Alfred, who’d turned out to have a completely different value system from hers. But she sure missed the sex. Until Regan had shown up outside her gate, she hadn’t realized how much she missed it.

Unbeknownst to him, probably, he was a walking invitation to partake of those pleasures. Much as she strove to be nonjudgmental about his ex, the thought continued to surface—the woman was an idiot. Regan was brave, resourceful and breathtakingly handsome. Maybe he left dirty socks on the floor and the toilet seat up. Lily could forgive even those sins for a chance to jump his bones. His off-limits bones. Damn.

He continued to talk to Rex as he led the gelding into the corral. Then he removed the lead rope and gave Rex a slap on the rump. The palomino took off, and Regan came to stand beside her, coiling the lead rope. “We’re going to have to watch that one.”

“I can see that.” Lily closed and latched the gate. “You scared me to death walking into the stall with only a rope.”

“It usually works. I was ready to back out again if he’d turned on me. I’m no hero when it comes to dealing with a two-thousand-pound animal in a bad mood.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

He gave her a lopsided grin. “Aw, shucks, ma’am. T’weren’t nothin’.”

Please don’t be charming. She was having enough trouble keeping her libido in check. “Why does flicking a rope work?”

“Most horses hate having something flicked in their face, and the more you do it, the more they back away from it. It’s a great way to get them to move without hurting them.”

Lily thought of her futile attempt to coax Sally away from the porch railing this morning. “What if you don’t have a rope handy? I can’t picture myself carrying one around all the time.”

“Ideally you would have a lead rope clipped to their halter when you’re working with them.”

“Okay, but what about the times I’m not working with them and they’re...”

“Loose?”

She flushed. “I know. They shouldn’t be loose, but there’s no way I can adopt out six or seven horses in the next few days, and I don’t like the idea of keeping them cooped up in the barn all the time. Even the corral is confining.”

“You’re right. You should only be using the corral for training. You could fence off a couple of acres so they have some room to run around, and then they won’t be chewing on your house or pooping in your front yard.”

She stared at him. “That’s brilliant. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“You didn’t want to restrict their freedom.”

She had said that, but coming from him, especially after the scare they’d just had, it sounded naive. “I’ve revised my opinion. But getting someone out here to construct the fence will take a while. What should I do in the meantime? Walk around carrying a rope?”

“You could carry a leather quirt and stick it in your back pocket.”

“So I could hit them with it? I don’t want to do that.”

“Chances are you wouldn’t have to touch them. You’d just wave it in their face like you would a rope.”

“I’ll think about it.” She couldn’t imagine walking around with a quirt stuck in her back pocket, either. She’d probably lose the darn thing. “Couldn’t I just clap my hands and achieve the same thing?”

“Not really.”

She sighed and glanced over at Rex, who was prancing around with his tail in the air, as if he owned that little circle. “Rex seems to like this setup just fine. He’s king of the corral.”

“So that’s his name? I couldn’t remember, but it fits him. He wants to rule any situation he’s in, I’ll bet. Did the people who brought him in say anything about his personality?”

Lily thought back to the young woman who’d left Rex at the sanctuary. “She said he was too much horse for her. She was small, so I thought that’s what she meant. Rex came here shortly after I took over, so at first he only had the old horses to deal with.”

“And he could boss them around.”

“They didn’t seem to mind. Strawberry, the big roan, was the first horse to challenge Rex, but after they did a little snorting and pawing, they stayed away from each other. I kept Rex in a stall by himself until recently. I thought he’d be okay with Sandy, who’s not aggressive at all. And it worked out until tonight.”

Regan nudged back the brim of his hat and glanced over at the barn. “I don’t want to chance putting anyone else in the corral with Rex tonight. He might be fine, but he might not. I guess we have to turn them all loose again. It’s what they’re used to.”

“And now I have a strategy to prevent Sally from trying to come in the house. I’ll keep a rope handy.”

“You know why she does that, right?”

“Sure. She thinks she’s a dog. Or a person.”

“No, she’s trying to gain more control over you. Horses will push when they sense you’re not in charge.”

That made her laugh. “I think it’s pretty obvious by now that I’m not in charge. Far from it, in fact.”

“But you need to be,” he said quietly.

“Boy, that sounded serious.”

“It is serious. These are big animals, very strong animals. They’re used to having a leader of the herd, and if you don’t accept that role, one of them will take it. Rex may think he already has. Strawberry might decide to fight him for it. Losing control is dangerous to them and dangerous to you.”

Her pulse rate picked up, and this time it had nothing to do with how beautiful his eyes were and how much she wanted to do him. “Regan, you’re scaring me.”

“Good. I mean to. You’ve been lucky so far. Most of the horses haven’t been here very long, and at least six of them are too old to harm anyone. But you need to let them all know you’re the boss, and very soon.”

A shiver ran down her spine. “I don’t have the skills to do that, yet. I’ll need training as much as they do. And practice. I’ll call somebody first thing in the morning about fencing in a couple of acres. Oh, wait, what’s tomorrow?”

“Saturday.”

She groaned. “Some fencing companies will be closed, and even if I find one that isn’t, they probably won’t be able to finish it up until the first part of next week.”

“I could ask Nick if he could pull in a favor. The Chance name might help.”

“Sure, okay.” She combed her fingers through her hair while she thought through her options. “I’m not too proud to accept that. If you’ll call him now, I’ll let the horses out.”

“Look, I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I’m worried about you.”

“I know.” She drew in a shaky breath. “I just never imagined that my good deed could turn into a life-threatening situation—for me or for the other horses. Call Nick. I’ll be right back. Then we should feed the pigs and the chickens.”

Turning, she walked toward the barn. Her rose-colored glasses were smashed to smithereens, and as she entered the overcrowded space, she could swear ominous music played in the background. The horses looked the same, though, and gazing into their liquid-brown eyes as she opened each stall door calmed her. She gave an extra pat to Sandy, who seemed to have recovered from his fright.

They all walked out of the barn in the same leisurely fashion they normally did. But she couldn’t quite erase her mental image of Rex and Strawberry battling to the death for control of the herd. That wasn’t going to happen, though. She had Regan on her side, and he knew his way around these animals, thank God.

At last she opened the stall where Sally stood with a chestnut gelding named Brown Sugar. The gelding meandered out, but Sally lingered as if hoping for a treat. That was Lily’s fault. She’d often slipped the little mare pieces of carrot and apple.

“Sorry, girl. No treats on me, tonight.” She stroked the horse’s silky neck. “You aren’t really trying to control me, are you? You just want to be good friends.”

Sally butted her head against Lily’s chest.

“See, that’s what I thought. Come on. Everybody else has left the barn, so you might as well, too.” She turned and started down the wooden aisle.

Sally followed, but she didn’t stay slightly back the way Rex had when Regan had led him toward the corral. She came right up to Lily, her nose often bumping Lily’s arm. Lily moved over, and Sally moved with her.

As an experiment, Lily kept moving to the right each time Sally crowded her. Pretty soon she was out of room. She turned to face the mare. “Are you herding me?”

Sally’s big brown eyes gave nothing away.

But Lily had her answer. Sally was in charge, and Lily wasn’t. She had no rope or quirt, so she untied the tails of the shirt knotted at her waist and flapped those in front of the mare’s face. “Back off, sweetheart!”

Sally’s head jerked up and she took a couple of steps backward.

“Yep, that’s what I’m talking about! Give me some room!” Lily flapped her shirt a few more times, and Sally retreated again. “Huh. Amazing.”

She’d managed to intimidate Sally a little bit, but she had no illusions that she’d get the same respect from Rex or Strawberry. For that matter, most of the new arrivals might not pay any attention to her efforts. She had a lot to learn, and not much time to learn it. Knotting her shirt at her waist once again, she walked out of the barn into the soft twilight, followed at a respectful distance by Sally.

Regan, looking better with every minute that passed, came to meet her.

She was excited to share her small triumph with him. “Hey, you may not believe it, but I backed Sally off by undoing my shirt and flapping the ends in her face.”

“Excellent!” He smiled. “Creative solution. Maybe you don’t need a rope after all.”

“Yeah, I do. I don’t think my shirttails will make much of an impression on Rex.”

“Maybe not. Anyway, I talked to Nick, and he’ll do what he can, but summer is the worst time to get a crew ASAP. Busiest time of the year for fence companies because it’s when they repair winter storm damage.”

“Not surprising.” But it wasn’t the news she’d hoped to hear.

“He said he’d offer to send out some of the ranch hands, but there’s a special riding event in Cheyenne this weekend, so he’s short a few guys as it is. He can get right on it Monday morning, though.”

“So I’m on my own with twenty-one horses who could decide to revolt at any moment.”

“No, they won’t.” Concern shadowed his eyes. “I didn’t mean to scare you that much. I just wanted to make a point.”

“You made it, and I’m not sure how well I’m going to sleep tonight.”

“You’ll be fine. You can call me if there’s a problem. I don’t have any appointments tomorrow, so I can come out and check on you. I can do the same thing on Sunday.”

“I have a better idea.” It wasn’t a wise idea, but desperate times called for desperate measures. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but would you be willing to spend the weekend with me?”


4

REGAN GULPED. “Excuse me?” His heart galloped out of control. Surely she hadn’t suggested what he thought she had. He suddenly had trouble breathing.

Lily, she of the sunset-red hair and sky-blue eyes, seemed completely calm, though. “To be clear, that wasn’t a proposition.”

“Of course it wasn’t. We barely know each other. I didn’t think that at all.” The hell he hadn’t. Stupid of him, but he’d immediately created a cozy scenario for the two of them. Apparently his subconscious had been building a whole fantasy on her I can’t help saying yes comment.

“The ranch house has a guest room. My mom insisted I should have one in case any of my friends from Berkeley show up. I realize this is a terrible imposition, but after Rex’s little stunt, I’m worried about being alone here.”

That was mostly his fault. “It’s highly unlikely you’ll have a problem.” But what if she did? What if he drove away from here and something happened? What if she tried to break up a fight and got hurt in the process? He’d never forgive himself.

“I may be overreacting, but I’ve been jerked out of my blissful ignorance and there’s no going back to it. I now understand the potential danger here. You know horses, and you’re a vet who could deal with an injury if we were unlucky enough to have one. I’d consider it a huge favor if you’d do this.”

He struggled to get his bearings. “Well, I—”

“This is spur of the moment, so if you’re willing to stay, you might want to go home and get some things. Where are you living, by the way? I never thought to ask.”

“At the Last Chance. Sarah gave me a room there in January, and I haven’t decided whether to buy property, so I’m still at the ranch.” He worked hard to seem as cool as she was about this discussion. She needed him to be there in case she had a problem with the horses. After the picture he’d painted, he couldn’t blame her. Because he’d contributed to her nervousness, he should agree to her plan. It was the gentlemanly thing to do.

Unfortunately, the thought of spending the night in her house continued to suggest ungentlemanly ideas. That didn’t mean he would act on them, though. He might have considered a relationship down the road, but getting sexually involved with her when they’d met only this morning would be insane. He’d never operated that way, and he wouldn’t start now.

That didn’t take into account how she operated, however. He considered the psychedelic colors of the buildings and her belief in letting all creatures run free. That could add up to a woman who didn’t have rigid rules of behavior when it came to sex. But apparently he did. Could he change those rules given the right circumstances? Yes.

“I can feed the pigs and the chickens if you want to head back to the ranch and pick up a few things. That’s if you’re even willing to consider doing this.”

“So it would ease your mind if I did?” Dumb question. He knew it would because she’d already said so. And he knew his answer was yes.

He was stalling because he hadn’t decided whether to drive back to the ranch for a change of clothes and a shaving kit. That could be problematic if he ran into someone who asked questions. No one kept close track of him there, so if he didn’t show up, they might assume he was out on a call that lasted into the night. That would be sort of true. He’d like to keep their arrangement on the down-low for now.

“It would greatly ease my mind.” She looked up at him. “Please say you’ll stay. I’m a decent hostess.”

His breath caught. She was pleading with him to do this because she was frightened, not because she wanted him in her bed. Thoughts of sex were far from her mind, and they should be far from his, too. They would be. He’d stay for a couple of nights and guarantee her a peaceful weekend free of worries about her horses.

Maybe in a few weeks the situation would resolve itself and he could ask her out. But only a jerk would take advantage of a woman’s fears—fears he’d helped foster. He was better than that.

“I’ll stay,” he said. “I don’t need to go back to the ranch for anything. If you have a spare toothbrush, I can manage.” And if he didn’t go back to the ranch, he wouldn’t be tempted to grab the box of condoms that he’d discovered in the upstairs bathroom. Even more reason to stay right here and be virtuous as hell.

“Thank you, Regan. You’re a good guy.”

He wasn’t so sure about that, but he would do his damnedest to be a good guy for the next forty-eight hours. “Ready to feed the pigs and chickens?”

“Absolutely!” Her bright smile flashed.

Yeah, he could do this. The relief in her smile was all the reward he needed. If he hadn’t believed every word of warning he’d spoken, he’d feel guilty about scaring her. But she needed to understand what she was up against. Chances were nothing would happen this weekend, but if it did, he’d be here to help.

Feeding the chickens, it turned out, was easy. He felt like Old MacDonald as he scattered seed over the ground. The pigs were a lot more work. First he and Lily had to chop up an ungodly amount of fresh vegetables. They stood side by side tossing cut-up veggies into two large bowls about the size needed for a batch of cookie dough. He’d never expected to have fun preparing a meal for pigs. Once again his happiness meter registered somewhere near the top of the scale.

He threw a handful of carrot chunks into the bowl. “I thought they ate kitchen scraps.”

“Most people think so, but they won’t get a balanced diet that way.” Lily chopped with rhythmic precision as she talked. “I found all kinds of information online, and everyone says to feed vegetables loaded with vitamins if you want a happy, healthy pig. And you’re not supposed to overfeed them or they’ll get fat. Harley looks a little overweight to me. What do you think?”

“I didn’t spend any time studying pigs, so I’m no expert.” Regan started in on a head of cabbage. “But he’s definitely chunkier than Wilbur.”

“And from what I’ve researched, Wilbur’s about right. I’ll have to make sure Harley doesn’t try to steal any of Wilbur’s food.”

Regan finished with the cabbage and moved on to a sack of potatoes. “What if someone wants to adopt these guys? How will you know they’ll feed them right?”

“Excellent question. I’ve thought about it a lot today. I’ve considered having the adopters sign an agreement that they’ll follow the guidelines I give them and read the information on keeping pigs as pets. But what if they don’t? How will I know?”

“You won’t, which is why they might need to provide references.”

“I think so, too. That’s still no guarantee, because they can give me names of people who will say whatever they’re supposed to, but it makes the process more complicated. People who want to adopt a pig on impulse won’t want to go through all that.”

Regan picked up a bunch of golden beets. “At least these are adult pigs, so nobody can kid themselves about the amount of room they’ll need.”

“I’ve toyed with the idea of a home visit before I let the pig go.”

“It will take lots of extra time to do that.”

“I know.” Lily topped off her bowl with some bib lettuce. “But after you filled me in about Harley’s deal, where his mud hole was competing for space with folks enjoying a backyard barbecue, I think viewing the future living space would be good. The requirements for the pig have to come first.”

“Because pigs can’t speak for themselves.”

“Exactly!” She turned to beam at him. “Most of those who bring me horses, pigs or chickens are ready to dump an inconvenient nuisance. They’ve never thought about how they play havoc with the lives of creatures who can’t speak for themselves. Or how they’ve contributed to the problem, which I’ve certainly been guilty of with the horses. I’m determined to fix that.”

Regan laid down his knife and turned toward her. “I owe you an apology.”

“For what?” She glanced up at him. “You’ve been nothing but helpful and kind.”

“Not really. I’ve implied that you don’t know what you’re doing, but at your core, you know exactly what you’re doing. You respect the rights of creatures who can’t speak our language. They may have their own language, but they can’t speak ours—and many of us marginalize them. You don’t, and that’s...that’s wonderful.” He had the strongest urge to kiss her, which would be so inappropriate. Coming on the heels of his little speech, it would seem opportunistic.

“Wow. Thank you.” She seemed taken aback. “Lately I’ve been thinking I don’t belong in this place.”

“Don’t ever think that.” He’d watch how he worded his suggestions from now on, because he didn’t want to discourage her from sticking it out. This morning he’d figured she might leave as soon as she grew bored, an assumption based on how his parents might react in this situation. But listening to her now, he wasn’t sure about that.

“I can’t help it, Regan. I wasn’t qualified to take over, although I didn’t have sense enough to know it at the time. But there was no one else, which helped me make up my mind. Now that I realize what I’m up against, I should probably advertise for someone more experienced to buy it and run it.”

Damn. In trying to make a point, he’d been too hard on her. “I hope you don’t do that. If I’ve made you insecure about being here, I’m deeply sorry. You may not understand the herd mentality of horses, but that can be learned. What you have, empathy for all animals, is far more important.”

She swallowed. “That means a lot to me, Regan. I was feeling pretty much like a dweeb an hour ago, but...what you just said helps.”

“I’m glad.” He could drown in those blue eyes, and he dared not. She’d invited him here for the good of the horses and so she wouldn’t make some terrible mistake that would cause them harm. The emotion he saw in her eyes was related to that, and not to a personal connection between them.

She gazed up at him, her expression soft. Yeah, he wanted to kiss her.

Then she broke eye contact, and the moment was gone. She cleared her throat. “Ready to feed Wilbur and Harley?”

Either he’d misinterpreted the way she’d been looking at him, or she didn’t want to get romantically involved. Either way, he’d do well to cool his jets. He gestured toward the bowl he’d been filling. “Nothing else will fit in here, so I suppose the answer is yes.”

“Then let’s go.”

Resolving to avoid any more dreamy-eyed moments, he walked with her out to the mud hole she’d dug behind the ranch house. Once again he marveled at how deep it was. She’d engaged in some serious digging because she’d wanted Wilbur to feel at home, and now Harley could enjoy the results of her labor, too.

Both pigs lay in happy abandon in the mud, but they perked up the minute Lily and Regan arrived with dinner. Regan set down Harley’s bowl, careful to put it a distance away from Wilbur’s. With squeals of delight, each pig waddled toward his respective dinner and buried his snout in the pile of veggies.

“They’re cute.” Regan surprised himself by saying that.

“I know. I’ve already bonded with Wilbur. I have about fifty pictures of him on my phone. I took some of Harley today. They both have the most adorable faces.”

“I can’t see much of their faces right now, but I like the way they wag their little tails when they’re happy. I also expected it to smell bad out here, but it doesn’t.”

“I’m pretty fanatical about cleaning up after my animals. These pigs may wallow in the mud, but I don’t want them to stink. That’s gross.”

Regan hadn’t thought much about it before, but the stalls had been spotless, too. No wonder he’d felt muscles when he’d grabbed her arm. She must be shoveling a good part of the day. “Have you thought of hiring someone to help deal with cleanup?”

“Nick mentioned that, too. I kind of like not worrying about an employee. If push comes to shove, I might have to get someone, but I don’t want to rush into it.”

Regan nodded and turned his attention back to the pigs. “They sure are tearing into that food, especially Harley.”

“From what I’ve read, they’ll eat as much as you give them, and they’ll allow themselves to get overweight. But in other ways they’re very smart. Their IQ is—wait, I don’t need to tell you. You’re a vet. You probably know all that.”

“I’ve heard they’re intelligent, but that’s about all I know. Aren’t they smarter than most dogs?”

“They are, and I like that they have brains. I might have to keep these two instead of finding new homes for them.”

Regan opened his mouth to say that more pigs would be coming because the word was out. She’d have to make sure she didn’t bond with the next one, and the one after that, or she’d be overrun with pigs. Then he closed his mouth again.

If she wanted to keep twenty pigs, it wasn’t the same as twenty horses. When the fence crew finally arrived, she could decide if she wanted an enclosure for her current potbellied friends and those who were sure to come later.

“You’re worried that I’m going to load up on pigs the way I loaded up on horses and get myself into more trouble, aren’t you?”

“Nope.”

She laughed. “Liar.”

“I do think you’ll get more pigs, though. The guy who brought Harley heard about you from the people who had Wilbur. I don’t know if there’s a potbellied-pig hotline, but I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“I’m sure there is. I’ve thought about joining a potbellied-pig chat group, but I haven’t had time. Maybe once I reduce the number of horses, I can hook up with other people who have pigs. These guys fascinate me. They’re so different from your average domestic animal.”

“That’s for sure.”

“Some people let them in the house, but I’m not ready to—whoops. There goes Harley after Wilbur’s food.” Lily hurried over and blocked Harley’s progress. He let out an ear-splitting scream of frustration and plowed past her, knocking her smack-dab into the mud hole.

Without thinking twice, Regan waded in after her.

“Forget about me!” she wailed. “Pick up Wilbur’s food bowl!”

“To hell with Wilbur’s food bowl.” He extended his hand. “Grab hold.”

Harley had shoved Wilbur aside and was eagerly crunching on the remainder of the smaller pig’s food. “I guess it’s too late to get the food, anyway,” she said. “He might try to bite you.”

“Might? Did you hear him? I don’t think there’s any doubt he’d bite me.” Harley wasn’t the least bit cute anymore, either. Lily, on the other hand, was very cute sitting in the mud, her face and clothes splattered with globs of the stuff. He had a sudden image of her as a teenager in an old T-shirt and jeans with the knees busted out. In fact, she didn’t look much older than sixteen now.

But the water and mud had begun to soak through her shirt. Very soon she’d go from cute to voluptuous, and that wouldn’t be a good thing for a guy trying to keep his mind off sex. He wiggled his fingers. “Come on. Let’s get you outta there.”

With a sigh of resignation, she reached for his hand. “I’m all muddy.”




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