Second Chances (2 page)

“You
mentioned you’re stabling her.” Lois rotated to face her.

“Yes.”

“There’s
something you need to know. Miracle isn’t just leery of everyone, she’s afraid
of men. Put her in a corner and she’ll bite and kick at a man just for being
near. I won’t lie. She’s put the fear of God into some of the workers around
here. Kicked a couple who weren’t paying enough attention.”

The
puzzle pieces snapped together. “A man beat her once.” April whispered the
words, understanding easily why the filly would act up.

“That’s
what we think too. But, that lends another problem for you. How is she going to
tolerate a man at the stable?”

The
heavy weight of worry about a nearly impossible issue settled over April. She’d
come this close, finding the horses she couldn’t leave without. Now, a big
monkey wrench jammed her dream from coming to fruition. She frowned and racked
her brain. “There’s only one man that runs the stable. Maybe she can learn to
tolerate him?” Surely someone who worked around horses each and every day would
possess some skills to deal with a frightened filly?

“Which
stable, dear?”

“Delaney
Stable in Sunset.”

Lois
glanced back at the man still standing there watching them, then met April’s
anxious gaze and nodded. “Dusty Delaney has a reputation.”

“I’ve
heard he’s the best around with horses.”

Lois
laughed. “Oh, he’s wonderful with horses. It’s women he doesn’t care for in the
least.”

April
blinked. Not that his personal life interested her. Yet, her inquisitive nature
pushed her for a clarification. “He’s gay?”

“Nah.
Just got a hold of a couple of piss poor women is all. Soured him on the rest.
But, with horses, he’s as good as they come.”

“So
that means…”

“If you
want them both, we’ll let you adopt them.”

April
kissed Miracle’s nose in celebration. “Did you hear that? You’re coming home
with me.”

Mischief
snorted and rubbed his head against her thigh, as if he knew that all along.

The
rumble of a truck pulling into the long, winding, gravel driveway that
separated the stable from the country road snared Dusty’s attention. Another
aspect that not only drew him to this place, but prodded him to purchase. The
long distance from the road decreased noise, discouraged unnecessary visitors,
and gave him high ground to see who cared to drop by long before they ever
stepped from a vehicle. The stable itself, painted a cheerful light blue, sat
on the summit of a sizable hill with the pastures dropping away on all sides.
He preferred to occupy the highest ground, a carry-over from his SEAL days and
time spent on the front lines. Safety and a sense of security came from
surrounding himself with optimum landscape he could easily defend, if
necessary.

Two
rows of stalls bracketed a fairly decent sized aisle with a dirt floor. Not
nearly as fancy as cement or even the tile covering many thoroughbred farms
used but functional. Large sliding doors closed off the west end of the stable
during cold months, but stayed open all summer long, encouraging cool breezes
to lower temperatures for comfort. The stalls were made from wood on all sides,
strong steel wire mesh in the door so even the foals could see out, with each
door opening to the aisle. Every stall sported a window to the outside, which
could be opened or shut depending upon the animal’s needs. An open area waited
at the east end of the row of stalls, affording him room for feed, hay, straw,
and all the supplies any reputable stable might possess. Right past the storage
area, a door led directly into his kitchen. The house was modest by most
standards, but the close proximity to his work, while still providing for his
basic needs, suited him.

Behind
the stable stood another building, this one a smidgen smaller and shorter, a
shop of sorts. He used this space, complete with a cement floor, to store his
two horse trailers and his truck when not in use. No sense letting big ticket
items sit outside encouraging a less moral person to try to whisk them away. A
thick chain and padlock served as a deterrent.

From
the moment he stepped on the property, he knew he wanted to spend the rest of
his life here, nestled in the pastures, hills, and nearby woods, caring for the
animals he knew best—horses. The set up called to him, even though the former
owners let things fall into disrepair. Hours and weeks of hard labor brought
the stable back to a state of glory and pride and he’d never looked back since.

Setting
the hay fork aside, he stepped outside to check out who disturbed his
afternoon. Ben, as always, trotted at his heels. The dog rarely ventured far,
certainly never out of sight, another habit born from their time together in
the combat zone. He brushed his fingers over Ben’s head and watched as a white
truck entered the lane, a black stock trailer attached to the hitch.

He’d
received a call yesterday from the woman who showed up unannounced that
morning. She’d picked out a couple of horses at the humane society farm and
they’d be arriving this afternoon. Curiosity piqued as he wondered about the
animals she’d chosen. Two, she said. Nothing more.

He
never minded taking in new horses, but something about the woman bugged him.
Her tenacity, her smile, the swing of those hips. His mind kept replaying their
interaction through the day yesterday, leaving his jeans a bit too tight. Odd
especially since he didn’t have much to do with women past a one-night stand
these days. No commitment, no expectations, no jerking him around to suit their
own needs. He preferred his women fast, hot, and as a fly by. The woman, April,
didn’t fit into the previous category, yet he couldn’t quite flush her from his
thoughts.

Stepping
out into the bright heat of late summer in Colorado, he noticed the stock
trailer backing up to the large open door to the stables. Automatically, he
waved the man closer, before holding up his hand in a signal to stop, allowing
plenty of room to unload the animals and lead them directly into the stalls.

A door
opened and shut. He glanced around to find April hurrying back toward the
trailer, her ever present ponytail swishing with each step. Denim jeans painted
her lower body, sculpting her flared hips like an artist’s graceful touch. The
tucked in T-shirt showed off her modest breasts and outlined the rest of her
figure. Together with a bright smile of happiness, she radiated beauty and
salvation. The combination caught his interest enough he chastised himself,
recalling what vipers women could be.

“We’re
here.” Her light, cheery voice carried easily to him. Though soft, the tone
reminded him of a meadowlark’s call. Uplifting and intoxicating.

Get a grip, SEAL.

Ben
trotted over and sniffed at the woman. Normally cool with strangers, he seemed
to take instantly to the newest boarder, judging by the wagging tail and dog
smile. She grinned and patted him with affection. “Aren’t you a pretty boy?”

Mentally
shaking his head, Dusty reached for the latch on the trailer.

“Oh,
you better let me.” April insinuated herself between Dusty and the gate.

The act
set his back teeth to grinding. He’d been raised around horses all his life and
preformed the mundane feat of removing horses from a trailer countless times in
his past. The fact she pushed him aside like he didn’t have a clue irritated
him to no end. “Lady, I can assure you I’m more than capable of unloading
stock.”

April
spun around and blinked up at him, surprise and regret on her face. “I’m sorry.
I didn’t mean to imply you couldn’t do it. It’s just…there’s a reason I need to
collect them.”

He
scowled.

She
sighed. “I’ll explain in a minute. Please just bear with me?”

He read
the truth in her blue eyes and gave a brisk nod. Whatever her excuse, he’d hear
it soon enough.

She
unlatched the gate and swung it open.

He
secured the gate to the side and stared into the trailer. His eyes landed on a
solid white miniature horse. Totally surprised, he could only gape. He’d seen
them now and again, mainly in parades. Didn’t think much of them as more than
an oversized dog. Certainly, they were made to be a pet and had little use
outside of possibly pulling a cart. This particular one stood perhaps a little
over three and a half feet high at the withers, putting his head right around
Dusty’s stomach level and about the size of a runt Shetland pony. He only hoped
he didn’t trip over the bred down version of a horse.

Looking
farther he found a dark dappled gray filly, eye catching with the swirls of
color over her body. A white tail brushed the ground while a matching mane hung
to the left side of her neck, loose and light as if each lock had been brushed
out daily to a glorious shine. If her looks alone garnered attention, her build
would keep anyone familiar with horses fixated with awe. Her long legs and fine
lines spoke of exceptional breeding, thoroughbred if he didn’t miss his guess.
With a sturdy confirmation, muscular hindquarters, and wide chest, she appeared
more than capable of hitting the race track only to dash past any and all
challengers. Beautiful and refined, he couldn’t imagine how such an animal
ended up at the humane society rather than living her years at a breeding farm
producing the next generation of champions.

April
latched onto the filly’s halter with equal parts confidence and gentleness,
then clicked her tongue. The horse followed her without a single complaint,
until she spotted him. Then the animal set her feet and refused to budge, wide
eyes locked on Dusty.

“Would
you please step back, preferably out of sight?” April’s voice came across soft
and coaxing as she whispered to her new addition.

Dusty
did as bidden, moving to the side of the trailer, shielding himself from the
filly’s vision.

Tugging
on the halter, April managed to get the filly moving once more, stepping out of
the trailer together. “Come on, Mischief.”

The mini stood at the end and peered down as if judging the
distance. He looked up at April who led the filly deeper into the stable. A
loud whinny pierced the air.

April
paused and turned around. “Now, Mischief. We went through this earlier. You received
your treat when you got in and you’ll only get your treat when you get back
out.” She held out her hand and opened her fingers. Two sugar cubes sat in her
palm.

Mischief
stretched his neck out, then appeared to figure out the only way to obtain the
sugar was to comply. He jumped out on a hop and trotted up to the pair waiting
on him, taking his treat from her hand, and eating with relish.

Dusty
shook his head, amazed and amused at the antics of the mini. He’d give the
horse credit for brains and cuteness. Still didn’t sell him on the idea of
raising them, but his job revolved around caring for her animals, not debating
the pros and cons of owning such small horses.

After
unhooking the gate, he shut the metal barrier and secured it tightly, before
turning his attention back to April. “Let’s put them in the two end stalls.”

“Actually,
they need to share the same stall.” She grabbed up Mischief’s lead and absently
scratched his head.

Dusty
frowned and closed the distance between them only to come up short when the
filly swung his direction, flattened her ears, and cocked her rear leg in
preparation of delivering a vicious kick. He read the horse’s body language
instantly, and began to speak to her in low soothing tones as April had done
before. “You’re okay, pretty girl. I’m not going to harm a single hair on that
dappled body.” He sidestepped slowly and cautiously, staying out of the reach
of the agitated horse, making his way around to a larger stall on the far wall.
“Put them in here.”

Once he
opened the stall door and stepped back, April led them both inside. After they
were fully inside, he closed the door, cracking it enough to let April back out
when she removed the lead ropes from both their halters. Securing the latch, he
turned on her. “Care to tell me what’s up with these two?”

She
nodded. “Just a second. Let me get my stuff from the truck so the driver can be
on his way.” She trotted off, opened the passenger door, collected her purse
and a couple of folders, then bid the man thanks and farewell.

Heading
back over, she handed him the brightly colored folders. “Here are their
records. The contracts are filled out and in there as well.”

He
opened the red one and sucked in a breath at the pictures staring back at him.
The gray filly so thin flesh pulled tightly over bones. His gut erupted in
fiery anger even as he immediately forgave her for her earlier aggression. Not
aggression. Fear. He recalled the widened eyes and spark of terror that sent
ripples over the filly’s body. Scanning the information, he discovered she had
every right to act up. “Damn.”

April
stood at the stall door, the top of the wood partition hit her at shoulder
height, allowing her to peek at her horses while giving the animals ample
opportunity to check out the entire stable from their individual stall, all
except the miniature horse that lacked the vertical height to do so. He had to
peer through the metal holes of the stall door. “Yeah. Breaks your heart.”

He shut
the folder but couldn’t dispel the stark images from his mind. Stepping over,
he stood next to April and stared at the newest members of his stable family.
“The mini keeps her calm?”

“Yeah.
They were at the same horrible place together. Bonded there, I guess. Anyway,
the humane society said Mischief was the only thing that kept Miracle going
some days. She’d have given up except for him. They were inseparable from day
one. Always together. Trying to get them apart causes an uproar and a lot of
stress for them both.”

He
studied the animals in the bright daylight streaming through the windows. Both
were clean and appeared quite healthy, certainly showing no hint at what they’d
been through.

Miracle
shifted to her left, checking out the thick straw, sending illumination across
her pretty hide, and revealing long white lines across her back and
hindquarters.

Dusty’s
rage grew. “Someone beat her.”

April
nodded sadly. “She carries several scars. I can only image the horrors she
faced.” Twisting, she faced him. “The humane society says you’re a magician
with horses. The only reason they let me adopt them is because they knew you’d
work with Miracle and her issues with skill and great care. She fears men, is
hesitant around everyone else. Yet, she came right over. Chose me. I couldn’t
leave her behind.” She bit her lip and her gaze dropped. “I know she’s going to
be a challenge, and I realize I’m asking a lot. But, I’ll pay whatever in
addition for you to work with her, help her learn to trust again.” Her blue
eyes lifted and met his gaze.

His
heart lurched. He’d have to be an absolute bastard to refuse her after she’d
asked so kindly, even offered to pay extra for the time he would need to spend
with the traumatized filly. Not to mention, he felt for the animal after just
reading a brief summary of what she’d endured.

Something
nagged him as he stared into her face. Her words went deeper than the obvious.
Unwilling to open that particular can of worms, he focused his attention back
on the unusual pair of horses in the stall and made his decision.