Here to Stay (10 page)

“Miranda.”

“Miranda. Right. Zach, lace that with a whole bottle of strawberry. What do you want to bet she goes for it like I do Jack Daniel’s?”

Zach produced a laugh, but it took effort. He’d never forget this night. His hands shook as he mixed Rosebud’s spiked water. He doubted she’d drink the stuff, not with a bellyache. But when the psyllium had been administered and Zach nudged the bucket in front of the mini, she started sucking water as if she’d just crossed the Mojave.

“I’ll be damned.”

“She
loves
it,” Miranda chimed in.

“I ain’t never seen the like,” Cookie said.

Tucker chuckled. “Stock up on strawberry Gatorade.” He patted Rosebud’s back. “She sure is cute, Zach. Don’t let Sam meet her. I’ll end up with a horse in the house.”

Zach wanted to turn loose of his fear and pretend everything would be okay, but over the years, he’d lost two horses to colic, and he had never forgotten the agony of it, not only for his horses, but for himself as well. “You think she’ll live to meet Sam?”

Tucker began repacking his medical bags. “Truth?”

Zach swallowed hard. “Of course, truth. You’ve always told it to me straight.”

“This little lady is special to you. Maybe the truth is a bit harsh right now.”

“Give it to me.” Zach’s voice twanged in his ears like a taut fiddle string.

“Colic is a bastard. Her symptoms seem fairly mild to me, but if that sand forms an impaction, she could turn in a New York minute.” Tucker snapped the bag closed. “Watch her like a hawk. Continue to dose her with Banamine to keep her comfortable.”

Zach’s brain froze. “How much do I give her?”

“Get a grip. You’ve dosed dozens of big horses. Figure out her weight and do the math.” Tucker studied Zach’s face. “Okay, okay, I’ll write down the amount. Keep offering her water laced with Gatorade.” He glanced at his watch. “Every four to five hours, give her more psyllium.” Tucker jotted down the instructions and handed Zach the paper. “If she turns south, call me. We’ll take her in, and I’ll open her up.”

Zach’s stomach lurched. He stared at Rosebud’s fluffy forelock. The first time he’d clapped eyes on her, that mass of flyaway hair had struck him as being the silliest thing he’d ever seen on a horse. Now he thought it was beautiful, and the thought of shoveling dirt on top of it as it disappeared forever made him feel as if he might puke.

“Cookie, can you spell Zach during the night?” Tucker asked.

“Darn right,” the foreman said. “If he calls, I’ll be back over here in two shakes.”

Zach sighed. “Cookie will have his hands full overseeing the hired hands tomorrow. I’ll just pull an allnighter. If Rosebud isn’t better by morning, I’ll have someone come over from the stable to watch her while I grab some sleep.”

“If Rosebud isn’t better by morning, she’ll be at my clinic,” Tucker stated.

Zach nodded. He thrust out his hand. “Thanks for coming so fast, Tucker.”

“That’s my job,” Tucker replied as they clasped and shook, “and the only thanks necessary is the check you’ll soon be signing to cover my fees.”

Zach managed a shaky laugh. “Don’t gouge me, you mercenary son of a bitch.”

“Ah, well,” Tucker said as he ambled toward the door, “I reckon since you’re my wife’s brother, I can give you a ten-percent discount. I’m less than three minutes away. I’ll sleep with my pants on. If she gets worse, call me.”

“You don’t need to worry about that. I’ll be on the horn in two seconds flat.”

With a gruff good-night, Cookie followed Tucker out. When the door closed, Zach dropped onto a chair, feeling like a bag of cement mix that had just been tossed from the back of a truck. He gazed at Rosebud, now standing comfortably with one hip dropped. She sure seemed to feel a lot better than he did. She’d stopped pawing and kicking at her belly. She stood guard over her water bucket as if fearful someone might drain it while she rested. Strawberry Gatorade.
Who would have thunk it?

Belatedly Zach realized that Miranda was still in his kitchen. She stood well away from the table, arms crossed at her waist, the rounded front panels of the bolero draping over her wrists. “I’m so sorry she’s sick,” she offered in a tremulous voice. “I’ll keep her in my prayers tonight.”

Zach fixed a blurry gaze on her delicately sculpted face. “You jerked that battery cable loose on purpose.” He didn’t pose it as a question, but he was too weary to lace the words with accusation. “You’re hoping to buy Rosebud, aren’t you?”

Zach half expected her to lie. In his experience, most people wouldn’t hesitate. Instead her pointy chin came up. Her gaze never left his as she replied, “Lousy timing. I saw on TV that she had loose bowels, but I had no idea she was this sick.”

Zach gestured limply for her to continue. She shook her head slightly. “It’ll wait. I just—” She caught her lower lip between her teeth, drawing his attention to her mouth, which had “kiss me” written all over it. “You see, Mr. Harrigan, my brother was blinded at six years of age. Now he’s nineteen and should be starting college, but he isn’t a take-charge individual, and he worries about finding his way around the campus. There’s just the two of us. Our mom took off when I was thirteen, and our dad—well, he’s otherwise occupied at present. Rosebud would change Luke’s life. During the newscast, you said that other people have been trying to buy her, and I—”

“Hoped to get first crack?” Zach finished for her.

She nodded and shrugged. “Like I said, lousy timing.” Her lips curved in a self-deprecating smile. “I don’t have much money. I thought maybe you’d agree to let me make payments.” She drew one arm from around her waist to push at her glorious mane of hair. “Now that I’m here, it seems stupid—and inexcusably presumptuous.” She bent to stroke Rosebud’s mane. As she straightened, she added, “Forgive the intrusion. Next time, I’ll behave like a normal person and telephone. I had a confrontation with Luke today about guide dogs, and when I saw you and Rosebud on TV it seemed like the answer to a prayer. You see, he was attacked by a Doberman when he was very young, and he’s terrified of dogs as a result.”

Brain fuzzy with exhaustion, Zach settled a worried gaze on his horse. “Right now, I’m not even sure Rosebud will live, and if she does, she’ll still be a long way from being a trained guide horse. But
if
she lives and
if
I can get her up to speed, how much money I make won’t matter a whit to me. I just want a good home for her.”

“She’s such a sweet little thing,” Miranda said softly. “If she were mine, I’d feel exactly the same way.”

She’d lied to gain access to the property, but for reasons beyond Zach, that strengthened her case in his eyes, telling him she desperately wanted Rosebud for her brother. Someone who would go to those lengths to acquire a horse would probably go the extra mile to give it a wonderful home. Despite her poorly executed attempt at subterfuge, he decided to say what was on his mind.

“If the wrong person offers a fortune for Rosebud, I’ll turn him down. If the right person comes along, I’ll let her go for free. Is your brother the right person?”

Miranda’s eyes went round. “Are you serious? You’d give her away?”

Zach nodded. “It’s not about the money. I make plenty on my big horses.” After letting that hang there for a moment, he added, “You obviously found me in the phone book. Call tomorrow to see if she makes it through the night. If she does, we’ll talk. Don’t take that to mean it’ll be anywhere close to a done deal. Rosebud hasn’t finished her training yet, and I’ll have to meet your brother to judge his suitability. Before I’ll allow that horse to end up in a bad situation, I’ll keep her, simple fact.”

She splayed a slender hand over the center of her chest, her eyes filled with such incredulity that Zach felt oddly uncomfortable. “Thank you so
much
, Mr. Harrigan. I will call. You can count on it.”

“If I turn on the yard lights, can you make it safely back to your car? I can’t leave Rosebud. She might start to roll. About all I can do is lend you a flashlight.”

“I’ll be fine. Stay with her. It’s not that far to the gate.”

Despite her objection, Zach rummaged in the junk drawer for a flashlight. She accepted the torch and smiled at him. “Thank you. This will be a big help.”

Zach was too tired to muster up a reciprocal smile. He escorted her to the door, flipped on the yard lights, and then stared blearily at her through the screen. “At the gate, you’ll see a post on the driver’s side. Push the button, and the gate will open.”

“Good night, Mr. Harrigan.”

As she switched on the light and went down the steps, he almost told her to call him Zach, but he didn’t have the energy. “G’night,” was all he managed to push out.

He watched the bob of the flashlight long after she was absorbed by darkness.
Pretty
, he thought again, and unless she was a consummate actress, that innocence in her eyes was real.
Hello?
She looked to be in her late twenties. How could a beautiful woman that age still be sexually inexperienced? Maybe his judgment was slipping.

It was a question for another day. Zach returned to the table and poured himself some whiskey. Rosebud had her pain reliever; he had his. As the liquor burned a path down his throat, Zach thought of Miranda again. She’d looked so over the moon about her brother possibly getting Rosebud for free. Zach could only pray he wouldn’t have to give her bad news when she telephoned tomorrow.

After paying the sitter, cleaning up the kitchen, and working on the computer for two hours, Mandy was exhausted but also so excited she couldn’t sleep. She’d gotten on her knees earlier, crossed herself, and offered up prayers for Rosebud’s deliverance. It had felt strange to pray after so many years of not going to Mass. But it had also felt good, driving home to her how much she missed practicing her faith. She’d quit going to church because her father was a cradle Catholic, and she’d been determined to be nothing like him. Dumb, she realized now. Why abandon her faith because her father was such a maniacal jerk?

Now Mandy lay snuggled under her comforter, grinning like an imbecile at the crack of moonlight that leaked into the bedroom under the pull-down shade. Zach Harrigan had seen straight through her ploy to gain access to his ranch, but he hadn’t been angry. Even better, he’d implied that he might be willing to give Luke the horse for free. She couldn’t believe it. Nobody gave stuff away anymore. But if Harrigan made the offer again, she’d jump at it. Just sending Luke to college and paying for his special expenses would drain her savings and mortgage her future earnings.

Mandy shivered.
Oh, God
. Would she ever forget the sight of Zach Harrigan in nothing but jeans? He had skin the color of polished teak.
All that muscle
. In a shirt, he looked trim and nicely toned. Without a shirt, he could make any woman’s heart skitter and miss beats. Normally Mandy didn’t feel attracted to men, but there was no denying the impact that Zach had had on her senses. She wasn’t comfortable with that and decided what she’d probably found most appealing about him was his complete and absolute devotion to Rosebud. His looks were just frosting on the cake.

It would be hard for anyone to resist a strong, work-hardened man whose heart shone in his eyes when he looked at a sick little horse. He
loved
Rosebud. To him, it truly wasn’t about making money. He’d clearly meant what he said during the news interview: that he’d set out to train a guide horse because he wanted to make a difference in someone else’s life. And what if that fortunate
someone
was Luke? It boggled Mandy’s mind.

She dragged in a calming breath, determined to keep a level head on her shoulders. Her attraction to him was nuts. Men were treacherous. If anyone knew that from bitter experience, she did. It made no sense for her to feel so captivated by Zach Harrigan, and she was nothing if not sensible. Even so, untangling her emotions was like trying to straighten a skein of knitting yarn after a kitten had batted it into a hundred knots.
Too handsome for words, caring, and gentle
. And more important, he hadn’t touched the whiskey on the table. Mandy detested spirits of any kind and trusted no man who drank the stuff. Zach Harrigan hadn’t, and even she would have given him a pass tonight. A tiny horse he loved deeply was possibly at death’s door. Mandy had wished for a tranquilizer. Only for her, warm milk was the nerve-numbing agent of choice.

Okay, okay, time to stop thinking about it and get to sleep. Luke would be yelling loud enough to wake snakes in five counties at six sharp in the morning. Time for rest now, no matter how exciting the evening had been.

She forced herself to go still. Why had counting sheep never worked for her? Instead she conjured up little palominos and sexy cowboys as she drifted off to dream-land, smiling happily, halfway convinced that Santa Claus truly did exist, after all.

Sometime later, she jerked awake.
A noise?
Mandy had been on her own for so long that she seldom got night terrors, but her sleep-fogged brain was being assailed by them now. She jerked upright in bed, heart slamming as she strained to listen.
Oh, God
. She heard a muffled thump come from the kitchen. Luke never got up without yelling for her to come help him, not even to go to the bathroom.

An intruder was in the house.

Chapter Four

M
andy inched out of bed.
Please, God, don’t let the box spring squeak, and don’t let Luke wake up
. Bypassing slippers, she forced her sleep-dazed brain to focus. She needed a weapon. She’d read about women confronting assailants with hair spray, but that was beyond dumb. Besides, there was only one bathroom, and in order to reach it, she’d have to pass through the kitchen, which was where the intruder seemed to be.

Icy sweat made her shiver. Clubbing someone with a nightstand drawer sounded less than optimal. She’d been at the receiving end of a man’s strength too many times to overestimate her own. She needed something smaller, but heavy, with a good handhold. Something that, combined with the element of surprise, would quickly disable a burglar before he had a chance to turn on her. She grabbed her bedside lamp, jerked the plug from the socket, and wrapped the cord around her wrist. If worse came to worst, the intruder wouldn’t be able to wrest the weapon easily away from her.