A Cowboy State of Mind Read online

  “Sure,” Bryn said, leading her toward the barn.

  “I’ll just unload these supplies and be on my way then,” Zane said, already heading for the truck. He put the two bags of dog food on the porch, then carried the grain into the barn.

  The sound of Bryn’s laughter carried through the space, and Zane snuck a glance toward the corral where she and Tess were taking pictures. Bryn was cracking up as she leaned against the side of the barn door and made cheesy faces while Tess chastised her to be serious.

  He absently rubbed the scar on his cheek, trying to remember the last time he’d let himself be in a photo. Damned if he could remember. He avoided most cameras like the plague and would rather take a bite of horse shit than take out his phone and pose for a selfie. Just one more example of why he wasn’t suited for Bryn. He’d seen her taking pictures of the horses, and she’d done a selfie with Brody’s daughter and the new horse the day before. Bryn would fit right in with Brody and Mandy—a happy, fun-loving family. He could just imagine the three of them grinning into the camera on a family outing, then posting the pictures on social media. Hashtag happy freaking day.

  Not him. He didn’t want anything to do with that business. Hell, he didn’t even have Facebook. What would be the point? To remind himself how few friends he had? No thanks. He didn’t need to be reminded of that.

  Bryn laughed again, this time the sound a painful reminder of what he’d never have. He slipped from the barn and headed for his truck.

  * * *

  Despite his best intentions to stay away from the woman, Zane couldn’t make himself stay away from the injured horse. Brody had said it needed exercise and to work the leg. Which was why he had snuck out to the Callahan farm before the sun had come up the next morning and looped a soft bridle over the gray’s head.

  He attached a lead rope and gently held it as he slowly walked the horse around the corral. The gray turned out to be a good listener, and they had a congenial chat about the weather, the land, and women. The horse didn’t have much in the way of advice, but he made a good sounding board and occasionally nodded his head as if in agreement with Zane’s thoughts. The leg seemed to be healing well, and the horse was putting good weight on it. He felt good about the horse’s recovery.

  Inhaling a deep breath of mountain air, Zane gazed over the horizon as the sun made its appearance against a backdrop of pink-and-blue sky. The air was ripe with the scents of spring transitioning into summer—pine, honeysuckle, fresh grass, and horse. Zane felt good in the corral, with the horse—as though this was what he was born to do. Working horses was the only place he truly felt good about himself, like he was doing something valuable, something worthwhile.

  “Let’s go around one more time, then I’m sneaking out of here before Bryn wakes up,” he told the horse. The horse swished his tail and plodded forward. He was pretty good at reading horses, but Zane wasn’t sure if the gelding thought sneaking out was a good idea or not.

  * * *

  Bryn slipped out onto the porch, a warm cup of coffee in her hand. Lucky came out with her and hopped down the steps and into the grassy patch of lawn. She was usually up with the sun anyway, but this morning the sound of the horses had drawn her to the window, where she’d spied Zane walking the gray around the corral.

  Something about the horse and the cowboy walking through the pale early morning light had her chest tightening as her breath caught in her throat. There was just something heartbreakingly beautiful about this tough-as-nails cowboy gently leading the wounded horse patiently around the corral.

  She smiled now as she leaned against the porch railing and watched them. She could swear it looked as if Zane had just told the horse a joke and danged if it didn’t appear the horse had laughed.

  Crossing to the corral, she leaned over the gate. “Mornin’, cowboy,” she said as Zane and the horse walked toward her.

  “Sorry,” he said with a sheepish grin. Dang, but he had a gorgeous grin. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “You didn’t,” she said. “I was up anyway.” She held out her cup. “Coffee?”

  He peered into the caramel-colored liquid. “I would say yes, but that doesn’t look like coffee to me. That looks like creamer with a splash of coffee.”

  She chuckled and shrugged. “Suit yourself. But you’re missing out on some delicious coffee-flavored creamer.” She pulled a sugar cube from her pocket and held it out on her flattened palm. The horse took a tentative sniff, then snuffled the cube, his velvety lips tickling her hand. She smiled as she stroked the side of his head. “How’s he doing?”

  Zane nodded. “Pretty good. I was going to rewrap the bandage before I headed in to work. I didn’t mean to bother you. He needed to be exercised, and I figured I could help.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  “He’s real gentle. I’m sure he’ll let you walk him around tomorrow.”

  Was he trying to say he didn’t want to come back out here, or was he trying to get her to invite him to come out again? He was a hard guy to read. And did she want him to come out again? Or was it better, easier, not to be around him? Not to be tempted by his muscular arms and that tight-lipped grin that did funny things to her stomach?

  “I’d better get going. Logan’s expecting me,” he said before she had a chance to reply.

  “Sure,” she told him. “Hey, before you go, I wanted to tell you I came up with a name for the new horse.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. I was thinking since we did kind of a fairy-tale thing with Beauty, we could keep with that theme.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure we did any kind of thing when it came to naming that horse, but go ahead.”

  “Whatever,” she said, teasing him. “Anyway, I think every girl needs a prince, and since this guy will be sharing Beauty’s space, he should be hers. So I thought we should call him Prince.”

  Zane shrugged. “Fine with me. It’s your call. And it’s a good name.” He pulled the horse forward as he led him toward the barn, then called over his shoulder, “Just remember, not every guy is a prince.”

  She sighed. This was a fact she was well acquainted with. Not every man was a prince, but a few were. It was just a matter of finding the right one.

  * * *

  Two days later, Zane pulled up in front of the diner and waved to Bryn through the glass. He’d texted her the night before to tell her the new part for her car had come in and offered to drive her home from work and install it.

  She hadn’t worked the day before, and it had taken copious amounts of willpower not to drop by her farm. There was a fine distinction between showing up unannounced and making a nuisance of oneself, and he didn’t want to cross that line. At least today he had a reason for spending time with her. Not that installing an alternator was exactly spending time with her, but it was at least a valid excuse for being there.

  The door of the truck opened, and Bryn clambered into the seat and flashed him a smile. “Hey, Zane, thanks for picking me up.” The heady scent of her perfume filled the cab, and he wanted to lean over and bury his face in her neck. Even after a full shift, she still looked gorgeous. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and she had her hair pulled up, a few escaped wisps hanging loose against her skin. Her lips shimmered with some kind of pale-pink gloss, and he was struck with the idea that if he kissed her right now, she would taste like cotton candy.

  His mouth watered just looking at her. Although that also might have to do with the fact she smelled a little like cheeseburgers and chocolate malts.

  “Hey yourself,” he said. “How was work?”

  “Another day, another dollar. And yes, I’m speaking of the lousy one-dollar tip my last cheapskate customer left me for his twenty-five-dollar bill.”

  Zane shook his head. “Bastard.”

  Bryn chuckled. “I did feel a little like a celebrity thoug
h. At least three people mentioned they’d seen Tess’s article about the horses.”

  “The article’s out already?”

  “Yeah, I guess one of their features had to be pulled and they stuck the horse rescue story in its place. The actual magazine doesn’t come out until tomorrow, but the digital one came out today. She did a good job. The article is focused more on the dire need of the animals than it is on me, and she set up some kind of online donation fund thing so readers could donate money to help pay for the care of the horses. I doubt anyone will—I mean, they don’t know me from Adam, but the few people in town who do know me and saw the article…” She paused and pulled a handful of bills from her pocket. “They gave me extra tip money today to help the animals.”

  He shook his head. “This town. Seriously, that’s great. I’m glad you don’t have to do this on your own. Maybe you should make one of those little donation jars and set it on the counter by the register.”

  She laughed. “Elle is already on it. She came over last night to see the puppies and told me she’s working on making several to put around town. She must have cleaned out the pet store because she brought over a new dog bed, food and water bowls, some chew toys, the most adorable puppy collars, and some old blankets. Half the stuff they won’t even be able to use for weeks. Their bed right now is a clean cardboard box, some newspaper, and Elle’s jacket, which the mother dog seems to love. Elle also gave me a hundred dollars that she said an anonymous donor had given her to help with the puppies. I think it was her, but she’d really committed to the anonymous-donor ruse and I didn’t want to insult her.”

  “Good thinking.”

  “She was actually pretty great. Brody had helped me give all the dogs a flea bath before he left the other night, but Elle spent close to an hour just sitting with the mother dog and comforting her as the puppies slept.”

  “It was probably just as helpful for her as it was for the dog. I asked Logan about Elle, and he said she pretty much keeps to herself. He doesn’t think she has a lot of friends, so it’s lucky she has you.”

  “Are you kidding? I’m the lucky one. Adding two horses and six dogs to my house hasn’t been easy. She gave me a much-needed break last night.”

  He lifted a shoulder but kept his eyes on the road. “I’m around if you need help. All you have to do is call.”

  “I feel like you’re already doing so much for me. I can’t believe you’re going to fix my car.”

  “It’s no big deal. I’m just replacing the alternator.”

  “It’s a big deal to me. I’m not used to asking for or accepting help. I’m used to being the one offering the help.”

  He thought of the call she’d taken from her younger brother. He’d asked Logan about Buck as well. Because Buck was several years younger, Zane didn’t remember him from high school. In truth, Zane didn’t remember much from high school. And what he did remember, he tried to forget. But he knew what it was like to have someone looking to you for help. Except unlike him, Bryn could actually be counted on to come through.

  He pulled the truck into the driveway and squinted at the house. “What the hell is that on your front porch? It looks like someone tied a big shaggy dog to your railing. Damned if that isn’t the sorriest lookin’ dog I’ve ever seen.”

  She raised a hand over her eyes to shield the sun then let out a tiny gasp. “That isn’t a dog. It’s a pony. Oh my gosh, Zane, it’s a miniature horse.” She opened the door of the truck before he’d even put it in park and ran toward the porch.

  He motioned for the border collie to stay in the truck, then followed.

  Bryn had dropped to her knees on the porch steps and was carefully stroking the little creature’s back. There were tears in her eyes as she looked up at him. “Oh, Zane. This poor baby. Look at him.”

  The miniature horse was indeed in bad shape. His hooves were too long and starting to curl, and the outline of his ribs was visible through the dull coat of brown fur covering his belly. Zane pushed back a tangle of the matted yellow mane that hung in the animal’s eyes and stroked a hand down his neck. His hair was rough and hadn’t seen a brush in months, if not years. He had white socks on his legs and a matching white spot on his forehead, between his eyes.

  Bile rose in his throat, and his hand clenched into a fist. How could anyone treat an animal like this? The hot Colorado sun beat down around the house—at least they’d had the decency to put the horse on the porch in the shade.

  A fluttering caught his eye, and he looked up to see a note stuck to the front door with a piece of duct tape. He ripped it free and read it aloud.

  “My wife bought this horse as a gift for my daughter. Now my wife and daughter are gone, and I can barely take care of myself, let alone this dumb horse that thinks he’s a dog. I heard you were taking in horses, and knew he’d be better off with you. His name is Shamus. He likes macaroni and cheese and is partial to orange jelly beans.” Zane closed his eyes as he pressed a fist to his forehead. “Who the hell feeds macaroni and cheese and jelly beans to a horse?”

  “It doesn’t look like anyone’s been feeding him much of anything lately,” Bryn said, running a hand over his thin belly.

  “No, you’re right. But we can remedy that.” He rubbed the horse’s forehead. “I’ll go grab him some grain if you want to find him a bowl of water.” He hastened to the barn and filled an empty coffee can with feed, then grabbed a hunk of hay from a loose bale and hurried back to the front porch.

  Bryn was just coming out of the house with a dog dish filled with water. She set it on the porch in front of the horse, then took the grain from Zane and poured it into another empty dish. “The note did say he thought he was a dog.”

  The horse didn’t seem to care what kind of dish the grain was in. He bent his head and greedily dug into the feed. Zane set the hay on the porch in front of him. “We’ll give him a few minutes to eat, then we need to get him cleaned up. We could brush out the other horses, but I think this guy needs an actual bath. You got anything around here we could fill up with water?”

  “There’s a plastic baby pool on the side of the house that Lucky likes to play in during the summer. We could use that.”

  “Perfect. I’ll spray it down with the hose and find some brushes to use.”

  “Give me a minute, and I’ll help. I need to change my clothes and check on the puppies.”

  “You got any of that dog shampoo from Brody left?”

  She nodded.

  “Grab that too. And a pair of scissors.”

  Ten minutes later, Zane had the baby pool cleaned and filled with a few inches of water. He’d let the collie out, and she’d played in the spray of the hose, then retired to sun herself in the grass. He’d assembled a selection of brushes and combs and brought out the nippers and a pick. He figured the horse’s hooves would be easier to clean and trim after they’d soaked in the water.

  The rhythmic thump of country music suddenly sounded through the open front windows, and Zane looked up to see Bryn step out onto the porch, her arms filled with towels. She’d changed into a pair of cut-off jean shorts and Teva-style sports sandals. The outline of a hot-pink bikini top shone through her white tank top, the strings winding up and tied around her neck.

  She juggled brushes, combs, and bottles of shampoo on top of the towels. Zane hurried up the stairs to take the stack from her. “I think you’ve got every contingency covered here,” he said, teasing her.

  She held up a finger. “One more thing.” She disappeared into the house and reappeared a minute later lugging a full bucket of water. “I filled this with hot water to add to the baby pool so the cold water wouldn’t be such a shock to the horse.”

  He smiled, not having the heart to remind her that a horse’s coat was pretty thick and that they often stood outside in the rain and snow. He didn’t think the horse would care too much about the temperature of the wat
er, but it would make it easier on them.

  Untying the lead rope from the porch, he led the miniature horse to the swimming pool. “Shamus, my friend, it appears you’re about to have a day at the spa.” He glanced at Bryn, who was pouring the warm water into the pool. “You’re not planning to paint little pink toenails on his hooves, are you?”

  She grinned. “I am now.” Her grin faded, replaced with a heartbreaking frown as she peered down at the horse. “Gosh. He looks like a sad little Eeyore the way he’s hanging his head and kind of limping along so slowly.”

  “I imagine he’s limping along so slowly because his feet hurt. Those hooves are in bad shape, and I can’t imagine they’re easy to walk on.”

  “Poor baby.” She brushed her hand across the horse’s head. “We’re gonna fix you up, little guy.”

  The horse stepped into the pool, and Zane eased the filthy halter off his head. It was too small and left indents in his hair where it had pressed into his coat. Zane had found another one in the tack room; it wasn’t new, but it was better than the crusted and disgusting one that had been around Shamus’s head. He looped the lead rope around his neck, confident the little guy wasn’t going to run off, and slowly scooped water across his back. Bryn filled her hands with shampoo and gently massaged it throughout his coat. They worked together, kneading the soap over his coat, then spraying it clean. Shamus seemed to enjoy the attention, leaning into Zane’s hands as he rubbed his shoulder.

  The pool was small, but Bryn got right in with the horse and dropped to her knees in the water. Zane stayed on the outside of the pool, yet they were still right next to each other, their arms crossing and shoulders touching as they soaped and rinsed the animal. Zane tried to focus on the little horse and ignore the delicious display of Bryn’s skin as she worked next to him. Her tank top was soon soaked, and the white fabric clung to the hot-pink bikini beneath it.

  He knew the horse was the priority, knew Shamus needed his attention, but it was hard to ignore the needs of his body. Especially since he was yearning to stroke his fingers down her tanned arm and across the smooth skin of her neck.