Cowboy Seeks a Horse Whisperer by Marley Michaels
Kendra
Driving toward Eagle Mountain Ranch the following week, I can’t help but marvel at the gorgeous pasture stretched out in front of me. I’m super early because I have surgery to perform later in the day, so the sunrise is stealing my breath away as it colors the unending sky and reveals the beauty of the lush, snow-capped mountain reaching overhead. I’m not sure I’d get any work done if I woke up to this view every day. Then again, I'm not sure how much work would get done if I woke up next to a certain cowboy every day either—not that I’ve seen much of him since our first meeting.
Ever since Jesse took off like a bat out of hell with his cute Levi-clad butt on fire, I’ve barely seen him save for a momentary exchange over Buster’s condition—which is thankfully just the result of neglect and nothing that proper care can’t heal—before he rushes off to tackle some important job around the ranch. Now, I get that running a huge property like this is a big undertaking. But there are five big strong men running this place, not to mention the fact I also know they also employ a team of ranch hands at different stages of the cattle breeding cycle, so they’re not understaffed. Which means he might be avoiding me. Disappointing, because I could have sworn there was some sort of connection between us when we were waiting together with Buster that first day. But after the way he’s avoided me since then, I’ve had to accept that maybe I was wrong, and give myself a stern talking to, because I’m here to do a job, help Buster, and work toward saving enough funds to build my horse rehabilitation center. I don’t need any distractions forcing me to deviate from the plan—especially ones of the hot and cold Jesse Barnes variety.
So now I show up each day and stand by Buster’s stall, talking soft and warm words of encouragement to the wary, worried horse, hoping that eventually, the gelding will realize that we’re all just here to help him live his best life. Because isn’t that what we all want?
It’s not all solitary time for me on the ranch, though. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting the cowboy-coffee-making extraordinaire, Ellie-Mae, and her husband, Miller, both of them delivering food to me whenever I’m around, which is so very kind. According to Ellie-Mae, Jesse just has ‘stuff to do’ since he’s the second oldest and has a lot of responsibilities. And I get that, I do… I just wish he could, I don’t know, sit with me and talk about everything and nothing again. I haven’t made a lot of friends on Eagle Mountain since I moved here, and it was great being able to talk so easily with somebody who gets it. But I suppose I’m just going to have to put my big girl panties on and stop mooning over some hot bearded cowboy just because he made my insides feel all squishy that one time with his soft words and gentle eyes…and that smile... Ugh! Get a grip, Kendra! He’s just not into you. Focus on the horse!
Which is what I plan to do when I hop out of my truck and head straight for the barn like I normally do. I can’t explain the tickly feeling in my tummy, or the flush of my cheeks as I get closer to the red and white building, nor can I think of any reason why my heart seems to be thumping so loudly in my ears. Maybe it’s just the sunrise and the fresh mountain air exhilarating my senses, along with the fact that working with Buster is something I truly love? Yeah. That must be it.
Except the moment I step through the barn doors and look down toward the animal stalls, the butterflies, the tingly skin, and my heartbeat all step up about a thousand notches. That’s because sitting on a hay bale outside Buster’s enclosure with his arms crossed over his front, Stetson tipped down over his brow, eyes closed, and his chin resting on his chest, is a sleeping Jesse. That alone would be enough to elicit a reaction out of me, except adding to the warm gooey feeling deep inside of me is Buster. His eyes are closed, his head reaching out over the stall door as if he knew Jesse was there and wanted to be close. And ain’t that a boon all in itself. It means Buster is getting more comfortable in his new surroundings and letting his guard down. Definitely a fighter, that boy.
Too lost in the sight of the big gruff cowboy showing his soft spot, while wondering if he’s been sleeping out here every night to calm the horse, I trip over my feet, the scuffing sound as I right myself making Jesse stir in his sleep. His head lifts and a low, guttural groan escapes him.
“Fuck,” he murmurs, sitting up straight and rubbing the back of his neck, arching his spine and stretching out. And of course, as soon as he moves, Buster’s eyes open, and he slowly retreats deeper into the stall, as if not wanting to let us know he’s warming to us just yet. My lips tip up because it reminds me of Spencer and how he pretends he doesn’t love me by acting like he doesn’t sleep snuggled up against my butt all night. And just like I do with my cat, I let Buster think he got away with it too.
Jesse’s gaze turns up to meet mine as I walk toward him, a slow-growing smile curving his lips and making me feel a little lightheaded. “Hey, doc.” He stands, straightening his hat and holding his arm out for me again. Of course, I don’t even think before shaking his hand and again, I feel something akin to an electric pulse jolt against my palm.
“Hey. How’s our boy doing?” I ask, like a total dork, as I try to school my breathing and slowly draw my arm back to my side. Our boy? Settle down, Kendra. Jesse’s face flashes with something I don’t understand, his head tilting to the side as he seems to study me, that something unknown working behind his eyes as I begin to wonder what he sees when he looks at me. Focus, Kendra. I gesture toward the horse. “Did he give you a lot of trouble last night or something?”
Thankfully, Jesse lets me get away with diverting the conversation back to Buster and leans against the stall door next to me, his body heat seeping into my arm through my jacket and making my head swim with possibilities. “He doesn’t like being alone, that’s for sure.” I turn and arch a brow, and the man’s smile just widens, nearly blinding me. “I tend to spend a lot of my spare time with him, but when I went for dinner at the ranch house last night, we could hear him making a racket from all the way over there. Beau and I came out, and he settled down as soon as he knew we were here.”
“Is that why you slept here?”
He nods. “I’ve done it a couple of times to be honest. But this is the first full night we’ve needed to stay with him. He just wouldn’t settle, so Beau and I took a shift each, split it up so we wouldn’t both be useless in the fields today. Beau stayed till midnight, then I took over.”
“I’d say he’s suffering from a bit of separation anxiety after losing his friend.” I reach into my jacket pocket and grab some sunflower seeds I’d squirreled away in there.
“Beau and I thought the same thing. Was kinda hoping he’d relax a bit more and learn to trust us if he knew we were here, but it seems like it’s gettin’ worse. You think we should maybe bring one of the other horses in here for company?”
“He hasn’t let me get close enough to get a blood sample yet, but I think we can base our decision on the results from the horse he was originally stabled with and say it’s safe to bring a member of the herd in here with him. It’d have to be a horse with a very gentle demeanor, so he feels soothed. Do you have a horse like that?”
He nods. “My mustang, Caramel, is as gentle as they come. I can move her into the stall next door so they can grow accustomed to each other.”
“I like that idea. I think it’ll help him to know he’s not alone so much. You know, some people say horses don’t get over trauma like this beauty has suffered but our job—my job—is to help them learn to trust the good people in the world, like you and me. I’m confident we can do that.”
Jesse’s brow knits together. “I don’t understand how anyone could stand by and let their animal get in this state. I’ve never seen bones through hide like that before.”
“Heartbreaking, isn’t it? But he’s a very lucky horse to be rescued by someone so patient and willing to put the time and effort into his recovery.”
“I’m sure others would do the same,” he says, brushing away the compliment.
“No. They wouldn’t. I could rattle off a huge number of statistics that would prove that to you, but I won’t because it’s too depressing. But I will insist that you understand it’s a big thing you’re doing here, Jesse.” Our eyes lock for a long moment, the air feeling thicker between us with each passing tick of the clock. It’s as if there’s a tractor beam drawing us together, and for a moment, it feels impossible to fight it. Then just as suddenly as we were caught, Jesse tears his eyes away and everything starts moving again, the sound of the world rushing in as Buster lifts his head and huffs out some air.
“Reckon he wants whatever that is in your hand,” Jesse says as he clears his throat.
“Oh. Sure.” Glancing at the seeds in my palm like I need to be reminded that they’re there, I slowly swing my arm into the stall, flattening my hand and holding it out to try to tempt Buster with the tiny treats. He tilts his head a little, letting it drop while not taking his eyes off me. He snorts, huffing out a breath and shaking his head. But there’s no missing his curious nature coming to the surface.
“He really wants those seeds, don’t he?” Jesse murmurs, the tension between us dissipating like maybe it was never there.
“Mmm hmm,” I say, forcing myself to focus on the work instead of the enigmatic man at my side. “That’s the plan. Tempt him and make it impossible for him to resist taking a bite.”
“From your lips to God’s ears,” he mutters, making me still. Something tells me Jesse isn’t talking about the horse treats. Maybe he experienced that moment just as strongly as I did?
Watching Buster, I can tell that as much as he wants the seeds, he can’t will his body to move any closer to us. But in this case, if you can’t bring the horse to the treats, bring the treats to the horse.
Leaning over as far as I can, I flick a couple of seeds onto the ground in front of him, watching with great joy as he bows his head, sniffs then picks both seeds off the floor and munches them down. He takes a tentative step toward me.
With hope and excitement blooming inside my chest, I turn my head and meet Jesse’s eyes. “Hey. Can you give me a lift? If I can lean over a little more and get my hand closer, I think he might give in.”
“Ah...sure,” he says, sounding a little unsure as he clears his throat. “How do you wanna do this?” His hands reach out slowly, almost awkwardly, as if he’s going to try to lift me from the side. I shake my head.
“No. From behind. If you can lift me so I can balance my weight on the stall door, you can hold me steady and make sure I don’t fall ass over tit inside.”
He quirks a brow, his lips twitching. “Ass over tit? We wouldn’t want that.”
Enjoying this repeated glimpse of the Jesse I met that first day, I lean in a little, mirroring his expression. “Definitely not. I’m sure you’ve seen enough spooked horses to know that if I crash land into his space, he’s gonna start bucking. None of us want to be trapped in a small confined space with a horse doing that.”
“In that case, I’ll be sure to hold your ass real tight.”
Scratch that, I’m loving the repeated glimpse of the Jesse I met that first day. Actually, this Jesse is even better because after a comment like that, I now know I was never imagining him flirting with me. This is happening. And while I’m not sure if it makes me weak or pathetic for swooning the moment he flashes that gorgeous smile of his my way, I am sure that I like it, regardless. I like it, and I want more of it, more of this man who sleeps outside in the cold to comfort a scared horse. Swoon!
Responding to his comment with a roll of my eyes and a snort, an amused sigh escapes me. “Hilarious. Now, come on. Give me a boost.”
Jesse squares his shoulders and moves behind me, his hands more confident this time as they slide over my hips, sending a wave of warmth in their wake. I squeak when he lifts me like I weigh nothing and uses his boot to slide the hay bale against the stall door before lowering me to stand on it. “I figured giving you a step up would be a good first move.” Your hands on my body would be a good move too, I think to myself.
“Right. Yeah… um… that makes sense,” I say, looking over my shoulder at him. He grins a panty-melting, combustible smile before nodding toward Buster.
“We doing this? My fighter horse looks like he wants those treats more than he wants to resist our charms.”
“Do people resist your charms often?” I ask, realizing how flirtatious the words sound as soon as they leave my mouth. Of course Jesse doesn’t miss it either, his eyes flashing with amusement.
“A gentleman never tells. Do they, Buster? Now, get ready, doc. Time to give my boy his treat.” Then I’m leaning forward, and with one arm outstretched and the other braced against the wooden frame of the stall, Jesse holds my legs steady as I reach as far as I can go, my flat hand close to Buster’s muzzle, my body still, my breath frozen. Then I watch in awe as Buster nickers and cranes his neck just far enough to scuff his snout against my hand, scooping up the seeds into his mouth before moving away like he hasn’t just made my heart swell with pride. I don’t miss Jesse’s breath catching behind me either.
“Such a brave boy, Buster. Thank you for trusting me,” I say softly, keeping my voice even and gentle.
Then I slowly shift back, making sure I don’t lose balance or move suddenly. When Jesse eases me back to my feet, my entire body feels like I've stuck my hand in a power socket, right from the roots of my hair to the end of my toes. At first, I think it’s just the adrenalin from wanting Buster to trust me—to trust us—so much. But it doesn’t dissipate. What is that all about? Without thinking, I turn around, my breasts brushing against Jesse’s chest as I lift my eyes to meet his, a gasp getting stuck in my throat at the half-hooded gaze I’m met with.
Once again, time stands still as we just stand there, staring at each other, my senses all focused with pinpoint accuracy at the intensity of his gaze, the rapidness of his breath, and the scent of his warm body that is quintessentially a man of the land; hay, leather, with a little of musk and a barely there whiff of sandalwood. The combination makes my mind swim a little.
“Doc, I—”
‘Hey, y'all. How’s Buster?” Ellie-Mae’s sunshiny voice breaks the spell, making Jesse and I pull apart faster than a cowboy can hoist his jeans up before the bubbly blonde reaches us.
“Whoa, whoa!” Jesse calls out, reaching for me as I step back a little farther than I should, needing to put some much-needed distance between us while also forgetting that I’m standing on top of a hay bale that doesn’t really accommodate a rapid escape the way the flat ground would. Jesse’s fingertips graze my arm, but don’t manage to grab hold, his rescue attempt failing as I fall backward with a rather unladylike oof when my butt hits the floor, my legs flailing in the air while the back of my head butts against the stall door, wedging me in the small space like a busty pretzel.
The last thing I hear before I wish for the ground to open up and swallow me is a shouted, “shit,” from Jesse and a gasped, “Oh my god,” from Ellie-Mae. And that’s when Buster starts kicking the stall door and neighing up a storm. We’ve just gone and spooked him. Fuck.