Authors: Wild Horses
****
Adam stomped through the house, his temper fuming. The kitchen lights were already on, Dewey puttering about the stove, the smell of coffee thick in the air. Gus sat at the breakfast bar and frowned, starting to call Adam’s name but he waved the old man off.
At the end of the hall, Danyiah’s door was open and yellow light shone through—she was awake and moving around.
“I don’t know!” she hissed, her voice nearly halting him. “But what am I supposed to do? You’re the expert.
You
said that I’d—”
Her voice cut off but nothing followed—she had to be on the phone. Her tone was laced with distress and his heart gave a sudden hurtful pang at the sound.
But no. He didn’t care.
Wouldn’t
care. He burst into the room and she turned sharply, eyes red-rimmed and huge, staring at him. Still in her pajamas, which were white short-shorts and a camisole, contrasting beautifully with her dark skin and showing tantalizing amounts of it.
“Just find out how it happened,” she said into the phone, staring at him still. “I’ll phone you back.” She slowly ended the call and set the cell down. “What?”
What.
What
.
He grasped her wrist, ignoring her protests and marched from the room. She stumbled after him, swearing up a storm. They passed Dewey and Gus, questions passing in a blur, as he dragged her outside. The glow of dawn began in the horizon but it was still dark.
“You goddamn Neanderthal!” she shouted, tugging at him as he strode down the path toward the lit building he’d left, but still he said nothing. Two steps onto the creaky porch and he jerked open the door, hinges squealing, and stepped inside.
“You want to tell me what the hell you did?” he shouted, stalking a few steps into the room as he let her wrist go. Adam gestured around at the overturned chairs, torn streamers, popped balloons. All the decorations were shredded and scattered across the worn hardwood floor, a mess of pink and blue and white and yellow.
Trashed. The place had been utterly
trashed
.
“I—”
He swung around and thrust his finger in her direction. “
You
had the key. No one else besides me and Gus do.
You
. So who did you give it to?”
She planted her hands on her hips, gaping up at him. “No one! So, what, you think
I
did this? Why the hell
would
I—I was the one who decorated it in the first place!”
“Because you’re completely mental and bipolar?”
“That is
really
fucking offensive—”
“If you didn’t, then you left the goddamn door unlocked—”
“I did not! Someone must’ve—”
“The windows weren’t touched. Lock isn’t broken. I would’ve heard someone breaking in.”
Her chin lifted and eyes flashed angrily. “Well
maybe
you were otherwise engaged and too busy to hear anything!”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Hey!” Gus’s voice carried over them both, pushing them to silence. Generally he was quiet but he had a hell of a bellow when it was called for. He ambled into the room, leaning heavily on his cane, but didn’t look at the destruction: his gaze darted between Adam and Danyiah. “Dani,” he said in an even tone of voice, “did you forget to lock the door yesterday?”
“No! I specifically remember closing the door, locking it, closing the screen door, and leaving just before dinner.”
He shifted his attention to Adam next, eyes hard. “If she says she locked, she locked. If she says she didn’t do it, she didn’t do it.”
Jesus
— “Then who did it?”
Gus waved him off. “You know kids can—”
“How did someone get in here? Do you have your key?”
His boss retrieved his ring of keys from his pocket—eight of them, and none seemed to be missing.
“And mine’s right here,” Adam patted his back pocket where his set of farm keys was a familiar lump, “and no one broke in. So
what happened
?”
Danyiah spun and fled from the room, around Gus and out the door. The porch rattled under her feet and then silence as she, presumably slipped back to the house.
Gus raised his hand before Adam could say anything. “Don’t. If she says she didn’t, then she didn’t.”
There were only so many people on the property, though. He’d’ve heard someone illegally entering downstairs during the night, wouldn’t he?
“You know how I feel about the doors—”
“And locks and break-ins,” Gus finished. “Yes, I do. And I know you don’t know her like I do, but she’s not careless and she’s not dishonest.”
Gus made no move to leave so Adam waited, crossing his arms at his chest and expecting a reprimand.
“There’s a lot to do today, not the least of which is cleaning up this mess and redecorating,” his boss said. “You have your chores to do as well. I’ll talk to her and get this place sorted—and I’ll not have another harsh word from you about her. Is that understood?”
Adam nodded.
“Good.”
“But,” Adam said as Gus turned to go, “
sir
, there’s still the matter of who did this.”
“I’ll have her pick up a new lock from the hardware store and you can install it later. We’ll deal with the rest after we get through today.”
****
Dani was hurriedly yanking clothes out of dresser drawers and shoving them back in her bag. She’d stopped long enough to slip on a proper bra and shoved her legs into jeans, but that was it.
There was a soft knock on her door. She turned, ready to bark something at Cooper, but it was Gus in the doorway.
“Oh, Dani, I’m sorry,” he said.
She shook her head. “You don’t get it.” The cell phone still sat on the bed where she’d left it and she plucked it up again, cycling through to the email she’d left in place at Dr. Van Ike’s request. “He knows I’m here.”
Gus accepted the phone and glanced over it, then shook his head. “You don’t know that.”
She made a violent gesture in the direction of Adam’s building. “Oh no? He sent that last night and this morning we find the room trashed. That’s not a coincidence.”
“It very well may be.” Gus dropped to sit on the chest at the end of her bed, resting his cane across his knees. “We get vandals out here, especially Friday and Saturday nights. We have a gate at the end of the driveway but kids climb the fence. Sometimes people try to steal things—horse equipment, mainly. Sometimes they try to dump things like their garbage. Sometimes it’s youngsters with too much free time. Why, every other week in the summer, Dewey will be doing rounds about the property and come across some torn sleeping bag and condoms from kids getting frisky in the fields. And sometimes still, in the morning we find barrels of grain tipped over, horses spooked, spray paint over fences. Even now, we had people camping out here overnight because they have horses in the show tomorrow, but a few of them I don’t know well at all.”
Dani sat on the edge of the bed, hugging the stack of clothes in her arms, and said nothing.
“I think maybe this fella who’s been bothering you probably sent the message hoping you’d do something like—”
“Like leave,” she finished for him. “And come home so that he can find me. I know. That’s what Dr.—what the threat assessment expert says.”
“You want to leave, Dani,” he rested his hand on her shoulder, “and you’re welcome to. You’re no prisoner here. But if you are in fact still safe, I’d very much like to have you remain.”
“I know.” She loosened her arms around the stack of clothes and took a deep breath, offered a smile. “And you’re probably right. Dr. Van Ike is probably right. It just...”
“Stressful few days, too little sleep, and bad timing,” he said. “Are you up to redoing the room for the dance afterward?”
She suppressed a shiver and nodded instead. Soon the sun would be high, bright light of day blasting away the shadows that had her scared, and she’d feel like herself again. “Yeah.”
“Good.” He patted her shoulder before rising. “You’ll have to head into town and pick some things up.”
“Okay. I’ll be on the road before they open at nine.”
“Good girl.” Gus pressed down on the cane as he walked, hobbling back through the open doorway, and closed the door behind him.
Dani sat there for a moment, staring blankly at her reflection in the mirror over the dresser. He was right, she knew—they both were, Gus and Dr. Van Ike. She didn’t normally get this rattled. In fact, she never had. But the creepy warning sent to her private email seemed to make real what everyone had been telling her for so long: this actually
was
serious. Dr. Van Ike said going on hiatus from her public life and disappearing privately would throw her stalker off kilter, force him to act and probably mess up. Things might escalate but virtually no one actually knew where she was going—she made sure not to leave any info anywhere. He was just trying to scare her back home.
She stared at her own red-rimmed, tired eyes for several minutes longer and prayed the sun would rise soon.
Chapter Eight
Dani sat at the top corner of the bleachers several feet from everyone else, watching the evening entertainment the barrel racers provided.
And doing everything in her power to avoid Adam Cooper.
She’d busied herself all morning and afternoon, scarcely taking time to eat or drink. First she picked up supplies from the party store, then redecorated, then started carting over coolers of beer and soda. She got all the snack platters ready. She cleaned. She did everything but meet Cooper’s gaze or pause when he looked like he was about to say something to her.
She honestly didn’t want to hear it and while Gus had encouraged her to stay, he might change his tune if Cooper said something that inspired her to punch him in his still-extremely-attractive, smug face.
That was how she got fired from her sex shop job eighteen months earlier—and what incidentally caused her blog hits to skyrocket. Punching a customer who said something offensive to her. Of course, it was an entirely different thing from whatever Cooper probably wanted to say, but would likely get the same result from her.
Floodlights lit the huge outdoor arena. Gus sat up on a platform, grinning widely, hollering into a microphone various details about the riders Dani hadn’t been paying attention to. The actual races were done that afternoon—the evening show was more like an encore. Last person up was the ever-perfect Carlee Birch on Sweet Pea, who had won the races earlier.
She trotted out on her horse, waving at the crowd, who cheered. Her smooth hair was pulled back into a long ponytail that gleamed in the harsh lights. She started from the right barrel and took off at a frightful speed, Sweet Pea kicking up dirt. The horse took the right turn hard, tipping at an angel that Dani would’ve found terrifying as a rider, then around the barrel toward the next.
Watching for a few hours, she’d figured it out, roughly. The horses went around barrels in a cloverleaf pattern as fast as they could. Knocking a barrel added a penalty. The whole thing seemed like a nightmare and Dani came away from the experience determined to
never
do such a thing, even for a blog challenge.
Of course everyone applauded stupid Carlee and her horse when she finished, though Dani didn’t stick around to hear much else; she hightailed it down the bleacher steps and straight over to unlock the building for the after party.
She wore a long, pale pink skirt that reached her ankles and twirled around her legs, letting her feel girly for the first time in nearly a week. A white tank top hugged her torso, the hem stopping two inches above the low-sitting skirt. It wasn’t glamorous and she wore flat sandals instead of heels, but such was life on a ranch. She smelled good, at least, having showered again two hours ago before she changed, and her black hair hung loose around her shoulders. She wore her Stetson—it finally seemed to be sitting right on her head—so she fit right in with everyone else.
The damn key, she had tied around her wrist with a ribbon. Unorthodox, yes, but she wasn’t about to stuff it in her bra and didn’t want to cart around a purse. She fully intended to hand it to Gus just as soon as everyone moved into the building.
Dani unlocked and opened the door, and flipped on the lights. A breath of relief passed her lips when she saw everything was where it was supposed to be. The streamers were dark blue, purple, yellow, and white, arcing from the center and whirling around the perimeter. They drifted down, blowing gently in the breeze from the open windows. Balloons were in similar colors, dotted all over the room. There were tables with food and coolers with drinks, and although chairs were stacked to the side, Dewey had carted in bales of hay to really push the “barn dance” feel and give people another place to sit.
Not that I will be
. She scooped a bottle of red ale from one of the coolers and went to lean against the wall, waiting for the “fun” to start. There was a stereo off to the side but she decided not to turn it on as she already knew it was set for country and didn’t want it started any sooner than necessary. The beer was delightfully cold, sending shivers over her skin as she took a sip.
Stairs creaked to the left; she glanced over to see Cooper step through the curtain that led to his quarters.
He looked good. Of course.
Damn him
. No hat this time and his hair was damp, as if he’d showered again. He wore a clean white T-shirt that hugged him deliciously and fresh jeans she itched to peel off and see what lay beneath.
Dani jerked her head away and took another sip, ignoring him before her thoughts delved into places they had no business going.
But of course he was moving toward her, his steps steadily thudding on the worn, creaky hardwood. Prickles ran up her spine but she continued staring straight ahead, pretending he wasn’t there—pretending his very presence didn’t set her body burning, pretending she didn’t acutely remember her unfinished fantasy from the night before.
Beer. Beer would solve things. She took another long drink.
Cooper stooped and retrieved an amber bottle from the cooler, cracked it open, and continued approaching her.
Go away, go away, go away
...
“Jackson.” He leaned against the wall beside her, facing her.
She didn’t look at him. “What?”
Perhaps her tone was enough of a warning but he paused for several long seconds.
Go away, go away
—
He started to speak and then the door opened, loud voices both irritating and welcome. People poured into the space that had seemed large just moment earlier; now it was filled to the brim with denim and cowboy boots and plaid. Music came on almost immediately, country twang barely audible over the talking and laughing.
“Hey!”
Dani winced at the sound of Carlee’s voice.
The other girl stopped in front of Cooper. “I wanted to talk to you about Sweet Pea’s bit—I’ve been using the longer shank for a while now, but then he always had a hard time stopping. He’s gotten a lot better, but do you think I should stick with what he knows or try something else?”
Cooper cleared his throat. “Well—”
“Because I’ve been giving serious consideration to a chain one—”
Dani promptly left, both because she was certain Carlee wasn’t speaking English and because she didn’t care about Sweet Pea’s chains or whatever. Gus walked in, so she strolled over, removed the key from her wrist, and promptly deposited it in his hand.
He smiled brightly. “Feeling better, Dani?”
“Much,” she returned, though the gentleman singing about his lost love and his lost truck—which, as far as she was concerned, might’ve been the same thing—made her want to run herself over with a tractor.
She left Gus to talk to his guests and found a nice corner to sulk in. She could play, in some circumstances, the social butterfly, but she knew almost no one in a crowd of at least sixty and felt it acutely, awkwardly watching people mingle with familiarity.
Well, at least she had beer. Red ale made a great date.
“Hey.”
She looked up at the sound of a familiar voice, and then scowled. “Go away.” She gave Cooper her back, turning to stare blankly in the other direction.
But he followed her, stopping to lean against the wall in front of her. “I’m here to apologize.”
“I’ll bet.” She polished off the last of her beer. It went down far too quickly.
“You know,” his tone was laced with irritation, “I’m trying to be nice here.”
“Maybe if you weren’t a jackass to begin with—”
“Well,
maybe
if you weren’t a useless princess—”
“Ahem.” Gus cleared his throat and Dani glanced over to see him standing four feet away with a pair of people, looking pointedly at them.
Right. He probably didn’t want a scene caused.
“Let’s go outside,” Cooper said with a sigh and reached for her elbow.
She stopped him with a glare.
He paused, then turned his hand palm up in offering.
Oh yeah, sure—give you my permission to haul me about
. She set her empty beer bottle down on a windowsill and marched past him toward the door. She slipped between dancers and clumps of people, then outside, letting the screen door swing shut in her wake. The porch was empty but bright, still near people, so she took several more steps and stopped to lean against the apex of the railings in the corner and crossed her arms at her midsection.
Adam appeared seconds later, his gaze darting around the porch until he spotted her.
She looked up at him as he neared and tried not to sigh dreamily. His arms were strong and toned, and she bet she’d fit perfectly in them.
“I’m sorry for freaking out on you this morning,” he said.
She waited. Nothing more. “But...?”
“But...what?”
A cool breeze drifted over her and she shivered. “But I deserved it? But you still think it was me? But I’m useless and I should go back to the mall?”
“Maybe just that last one.”
She balled her hands into fists but he grinned suddenly, melting her anger even as she tried to hold on to it.
“You’ve done good work.” Another step brought him close enough that she could smell his aftershave. He set the half empty bottle of beer on the railing—why he needed his hands free, she wasn’t sure.
But wanted to find out.
“Well.” She cleared her throat. It was awkward when he was being nice. “I’ve done a lot of jobs, you know. I
do
learn quickly.”
“I wouldn’t say you
learn
a whole lot but you definitely—”
Her hand lashed out to smack his forearm.
His fingers wrapped around her wrist, trapping her.
High in her throat she felt the thrum of her pulse, beating so loudly she swore he could probably hear it. Wind stirred the hair around her shoulders, skirt around her legs, and her body seemed to both heat and shiver all at once.
The music within shifted, changing to a familiar beat, and Dani grinned absently.
“What?” he asked.
“Oh.” She nodded in the direction of the house where “Need You Now” played. “I actually know this one. I sang—badly—and danced to it on video in my underwear for charity.”
“Your underwear?” He cocked a brow.
Warmth flushed her cheeks and down her neck. He still had her wrist but she hardly noticed now—not when her attention was focused on him drawing closer. “They had white and yellow daisies on them.”
“I’d like to see that sometime.”
“It’s still on YouTube.”
Two million views.
Her most popular video to date. Her grin faded and she swallowed tightly as she tilted her head back to gaze up at him. “So...I’d apologize too, but then I’m not the one acting like a dick.”
“I hate these...events,” he said with a sigh, “and get irritable. I didn’t mean to upset you this morning or accuse you of anything.”
“Oh, you most certainly
did
mean to accuse me—”
“I mean not like
that
. I meant to see if you’d left the door open by mistake. And I lost it. I just...prefer things locked up.”
“Well.” Her head felt warm so she plucked off the hat, set it on the railing, and let the wind dry the sweat on her brow. She ran her hand back through her hair nervously as she tried not to pay too much attention to how close he was. “You
are
a jackass.”
“And you
are
a princess.”
And he was
extremely
close now.
In his eyes waited a challenge, one that set her blood ablaze with want, desire coursing through her body. Her nipples strained against her bra and thin cotton tank top, and as he crowded in her space, pinning her against the railing, she was certain he felt it too. Her chest heaved with panting breaths, brain told her to get away—to push him aside and flee back for the party, but she was caught in his dark, dark blue eyes just as she was against his body, and didn’t think she could run even if he told her to.
His head dipped down and an electric current seemed to pass between them, raising the fine hairs on her arms and sending adrenalin blasting through her veins. She breathed in, drinking the scent of him enveloping her, and her eyes went heavy-lidded as his mouth neared hers. While her fingers wrapped around his shirt, her lips parted in preparation to taste him at last. All rational thought left her and it was just Dani, Adam, and a kiss that felt like it had been building since—
The screen door screeched several feet away. “Adam?”
Cooper cursed under his breath and leaned back. His face was several shades of red, eyes livid, and Dani was
very
glad she wasn’t in his warpath at that moment. “What?”
“I...uh...” Dewey stood there by the door awkwardly, giant owl-eyes blinking. “Um.”
Cool air touched Dani, helping to tone down her flushed flesh and beating heart. She stole the moment to duck past Adam, wiggling her wrist from his grasp, and fled back for the dance.
Bad idea. Bad, bad. She had to spend God knows however much longer at the ranch and getting involved with that bossy prick was
not
how she should spend her time. She ran around Dewey, embarrassment running deep and leaving her unable to even
look
in his direction, and threw herself into the busy party happening inside.