Second Chances (6 page)

Dusty
went about his work, not bothering to comment. Obviously, praise made him
uncomfortable judging by the way he clammed up each time she complimented him
on a deed. The realization bothered her, but she told herself with time, he’d
learn to accept some well earned recognition. She wasn’t going anywhere, nor
were her horses.

“Did
you hear about the fires down in Madison County?”

“Yeah.
It’s a perfect storm. Drought, high winds, and plenty of fuel in the form of
dried out pastures and trees.” He headed toward her horses, two buckets of feed
in hand. Speaking softly, he slid along the front wall, keeping the grain
between him and Miracle. Her ears twitched, but she made no attempt at
aggression. Instead, she lipped a bite, then dove in once he settled her bucket
into place.

“Think
it will head this way?” She rubbed the nose of Tansy, and then held out the
bucket so the little foal could eat without having to compete with her mother.

“No
telling.”

“Have
you ever seen this area burn?”

He
shook his head. “I’ve only been here for three years, so I can’t really say.”

She
blinked. Since everyone she asked knew Dusty, she figured he’d lived there all
his life. “Oh, I thought you were from around here.”

“No.”

He
didn’t elaborate, which meant she’d stumbled into yet another topic he didn’t
care to pursue. Trying to pry information out of this man was like trying to
sneak a giant 747 plane down Main Street. Simply wasn’t happening.

“Where
did you grow up, then?”

He
continued with his chores. “Wyoming.”

“Does
your family still live there?” she persisted, but then bit her lip as she saw
tension envelop the man. His steps became a bit stiffer, his mouth tightened.
She’d definitely stumbled across a taboo subject. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be so
nosey.”

He
carried one more bucket and re-emerged from the far stall, not bothering to
look her direction.

Weight
settled on her shoulders.
Way to go.
He’d
started to act friendly, but her big mouth clammed him right up.

She
quickly changed the subject, hoping to coax him into speaking once more. “Do
you ride your horses much? I’ve seen the saddles, but haven’t seen you ride.”

“Yeah.”

One word answer. Wonderful. Yet,
better than nothing.
“I
haven’t seen any other boarders come in. Do they show up very often?”

He
opened a can of dog food and poured the contents out, then mixed in some pieces
of dry food. Ben wagged his tail and dug in. “Now and again. When the weather
is bad, too hot, or too cold, they tend to stay away. Same reason I haven’t
been riding. Way too hot for the horses to do much more than try to find a cool
spot in the shade.”

The
open and airy stable wasn’t bad in temperature, although she imagined the
horses preferred standing under the trees, making use of any breeze that came
their way, while grazing. A score of windows on either side of the building
encouraged a cross wind while several fans had been tacked up near the stalls.
She hadn’t seen them on before, but knew if one of the animals showed signs of
getting way too warm, Dusty wouldn’t hesitate to flick a button and send air
rushing their direction.

The
filly lipped up the last bit of grain and nudged the bucket for more. April
grinned, rubbed the baby’s face, and slipped out of the stall. After placing
both empty buckets back near the feed sacks, she wandered over to a nearby bale
of straw and plopped down.

An
orange and black cat headed her direction, hopped on her lap, and plopped down
like she found a comfortable spot for a nap. April stroked the pretty cat’s
back, noting the loud purr that followed. Her heart cracked and a barely healed
wound reopened. She’d had to put her old cat to sleep about a year ago due to
advanced cancer. Tears ran down her cheeks for days as she mourned gravely.
Still to this day, she recalled her favorite pet and her eyes misted. Having
another cat contently curled up on her lap reminded her of the good times while
plucking at those tender heart strings.

“That’s
Marmalade.”

She
glanced over at Dusty. “She’s friendly. I always thought barn cats were
skittish, especially of strangers.”

He
shrugged and sat down beside Ben, watching the dog lick his bowl clean. “She
showed up here one day, skinny as a rail. I took her in, fed her, got some vet
work done. She’s been friendly since day one. Probably someone’s pet that got
lost or dumped as a quick way to rid themselves of their responsibilities.”

April
sighed and brushed her hand over the cat’s head. So much sadness in the lives
of these animals. Her gaze once again found Dusty.

He fit
right in. Wounded and possibly traumatized from his past, he found peace
surrounded by creatures that lived through their own version of hell. He didn’t
just own the stable, he spoke the same language as the occupants. They all
needed one another. If something ever happened to this place, he’d be just as
lost as they would be.

She
thought of the fires to their south and sent up a quick prayer for the
destructive flames to stay far away.

“How
long have you been working with horses?” She opted to spend the evening
learning more about the man who snared her attention.

“Forever.
My family raised quarter horses.”

“Showed
them?”

He
nodded and rubbed Ben’s head. “For a while we spent every weekend during the
summer at a show.”

“Did
you like it?”

Dusty
shrugged and looked down at his dog. “Yes and no. I enjoyed the horses, but the
traveling all the time got old. Then college took most of my time. After I
graduated, the military took over my life.”

Somewhat
surprised he mentioned his military career, she debated questioning him further
about the part of his life he bristled about earlier. “Did you apply to be a
dog handler in the military? How do they decide who gets to be with dogs and
who doesn’t?” Her soft words carried easily across the area.

Marmalade
looked up at her and softly meowed as if encouraging her to resume her
attentions. Lightly, she scratched behind the cat’s ears and ran her fingers
down the plump cat’s back.

Silence
reigned before Dusty finally answered. “You apply. They choose applicants based
on several factors.” His short answer discouraged further inquiry.

April
took the hint. “Lois said their vet recommended Miracle only be used for light
riding due to potential bone and ligament damage from her starvation. Do you
think it’s worth trying to break her or simply consider her a pet?”

His
gaze lifted to meet hers. “I’d say that’s up to you.” He turned to the large
stall containing the unusual pair of horses. “She’s made good progress with me,
but breaking will take a long time. I can have my vet look her over next time
he’s here, but I doubt he’ll disagree with theirs.” Dusty’s brown eyes found
her once more. “Truth be told, after what she went through, I’m not sure I’d
even bother with saddle and rider. Most likely, she’d be happier and healthier
as a pretty filly to decorate the stable.”

She
watched Miracle shuffle through the thick straw. “I think you’re right. It’s
not worth the risk to her or the upset.” Somewhat disappointed, she focused on
the purring kitty in her lap.

“If you
want to go riding, just say the word.”

Jerking
her head up, she blinked at Dusty, surprised by such an offer. “You’d let me
ride one of your horses?”

“Yeah.
They could use the work. That is, if you know how to ride.”

A smile
flashed across her face. “Didn’t I tell you? I worked at a large horse farm all
through high school. We did everything from breeding, training, boarding, and
riding lessons. Even worked with handicapped kids in riding therapy. All
through college, I spent my weekends volunteering at Summerset Thoroughbreds.”

Respect
replaced amazement on his face. He studied her, then nodded slowly. “You’ll do,
April. You’ll do.”

She
grinned at the rare praise and felt her spirits lift.
Score one for me.
While Dusty might not care for women in general
and didn’t always appreciate her hanging around, at least he now saw her as a
fellow horse person. Common ground with a genuine love for the animals he
adored.

They
fell into companionable silence, Dusty showering affection on his former war
partner and her stroking the barn cat.

I could get used to this.

Grenades exploded, sending men
flying. Blood splattered and cries of pain and fear burst out over the desert
mountain landscape. With no shelter besides a few armor plated vehicles, men
either stood their ground or dove for cover. Those still capable grabbed up a
weapon and fired, defending themselves and their unit. Dusty glanced to the
side, finding the fixed eyes of his best friend staring his direction. Sharp
shards ripped through him even as fury rushed to the fore. With a battle cry,
he grabbed his weapon, rushed ahead, and put down a scathing flurry of bullets.
The next instant, he went airborne as another roadside bomb detonated.

Sucking
in great gulps of air, Dusty opened his eyes and sat up. Ben cuddled close,
whining and licking at his owner’s face. For a long moment, Dusty fought to
quell the images still running amok in his mind, their claws buried deep in his
memory, stubbornly refusing to budge each time he tried to banish them. His
heart still pounding, he wrapped an arm around Ben and buried his face in the
coarse fur, finally managing to pull himself from the nightmare and back into
the present.

Darkness
surrounded them, the only light from his alarm clock. Glancing up, he found the
time. Three-fifteen.

“Shit.”
He sighed heavily and looked into Ben’s knowing eyes. “Yeah, another one. I
know you have them too.”

Ben sat
up and leaned his entire body against Dusty, tucking his head under Dusty’s
chin.

Smiling
briefly at the comforting snuggle, Dusty did nothing more than pet his dog. Ben
had always been there for him during the war—not only as a protector and
detector but also as a friend. Without Ben, Dusty might have lost his humanity
and his sanity. Instead, they worked as a team, supported one another, and
finally came home together, although a bit rough and worn for the experience.

White
hairs covered Ben’s muzzle, signifying his advanced age. Once again, he
wondered how much time his friend had left and felt a deep pang in his heart at
the thought of losing Ben. The downside to having pets was to lose them in the
end. Nature’s way. Yet, he didn’t know what he’d do without his constant
companion who understood so much more than most people could.

He
ruffled the dog’s hair once more. No sense in trying to return to sleep, not
when he still suffered the adrenaline charge from his harrowing dream. He could
sit in bed and stare at the clock or he could do something useful. “What do you
say we get an early start on breakfast?”

Ben
woofed softly and jumped off the bed.

Dusty
followed.

“Good
morning.” April walked through the main gate with a wide smile on her face.

He
blinked and gave her a droll stare, not in the mood for bubbly cheerfulness
this morning. After a quick meal of toast, he’d gotten to work. Threw laundry
in, scrubbed the kitchen, even cleaned his bathroom until the entire room
gleamed with freshness. By the time he finished, the clock struck five, close
enough for feeding time in his book.

Afterward,
he’d went about grooming the horses, working on the third one when his persistent
new boarder strolled in.

Ben
trotted over, his tail wagging happily. She stopped to lavish attention on him,
speak to him, and even slipped him a dog treat, which he ate with relish. With
a giggle, she approached the stud’s stall, where he presently brushed Rule’s
golden hide.

“Either
you’re early or I’m late.” Her gaze darted to the empty buckets in the stalls.

“You’re
neither.” He clipped the words, irritated with her already. In his rational
mind he knew she wasn’t to blame for his surly mood and didn’t deserve his
harsh tongue, yet, he also didn’t feel up to catering to her whims today. Why
couldn’t she be like the other boarders who came and went sparingly? He much
preferred to hang out alone throughout the day, not babysit a yappy blonde lady
with nothing better to do on her vacation than shadow him.

Her
head jerked up and her blue eyes pinned him with fire and intrigue.

Maybe
if he pissed her off, she’d go away for the day and leave him in peace.

“I see.
Well, I’ll just care for my horses and stay out of your way today.” With the
quiet, but haughty answer, she grabbed up a couple of brushes and headed toward
the large end stall containing her animals. First, she brought out Mischief and
tied him to the door. After a touch up brushing session and quick check of his
feet, she returned for the filly. Miracle balked at being tied at first,
yanking back against the rope, but soon quieted with April’s quiet voice and
touch. A carrot split among the two seemed to seal the deal for the moment.

He
finished with Rule, grabbed a lead rope and led his stallion from the stall.
The stud made a beeline for Miracle and snuffled her before Dusty tugged
insistently on his halter. “Not happening, boy.”

As if
understanding, the palomino snorted, then ambled along all the way to the small
pasture.

Dusty
released him, noting the colors of dawn spreading across the horizon. Another
pretty day if you like baking under the sun and bathing in your own sweat. With
a grumbled curse of the weather, he walked back to the stable.

By the
time he entered, he found April finishing up with her horses. Without pausing,
he walked right up to Miracle, untied her, and took control of her halter. Her
eyes rolled and showed white. Speaking softly, he soothed the nervous horse.
“That’s it. Just me again. Nothing to get your water hot about.”

For a
few minutes he did nothing more than stand there and speak to the animal.
Finally, when she quieted, he reached up to lightly scratch her neck. Her ears
flicked and she sidled away. He held his ground, continued with his motions,
and never stopped speaking to her. Finally, she calmed, lowered her head, and
held still. “That’s my girl.” He dug a sugar cube from his pocket, placed the
treat on his palm, and held his hand out to the filly’s muzzle. She sniffed for
only a second before eagerly accepting the reward.

Mischief
nudged him hard in the rear.

Dusty
shook his head and turned around. “Feeling left out?” He offered up another bit
of sugar, which the gelding gobbled down as if someone might steal his gift if
he didn’t hurry up and swallow.

“Wow. I
still can’t believe she’s standing there letting you pet her.” April’s soft
voice carried to him.

He
didn’t answer. Instead, untied the mini and led both horses to their pasture.
By the time he set them loose, she brought a couple of the geldings and handed
them over.

“This
is my job.” He took control of the leads, put both animals in the field, then
unsnapped the ropes from their halters to set them free for the day.

“I like
to help.” She waited for him to close the gate and start back toward the
stable.

“There’s
no discount for picking up some of the chores.” His voice came out terse and
flat.

She
stiffened as if insulted. “I didn’t expect one.” She hurried to keep up with
his long strides.

Irritable,
he frowned down at her. “When are you going to go back to work again?”

April
gasped. “What’s with you today? I thought we’d found some sort of truce over
the past couple of days. Today, you’re snapping at me like I’m the wicked witch
of the west come looking for your boots to wear.”

Her
wording almost put a grin on his face. Almost. “Maybe I need some alone time.”
He stopped and turned to face her.

Their
gazes met. Neither looked away.

“You
haven’t slept.” The words tumbled out of her mouth like a pebble plinking down
a hillside. She studied his face. “You’ve got dark circles and lines of
fatigue.”

He
ground his back teeth, pulling on his patience. “Nice to know I look like shit
this morning.”

So, he
hadn’t gotten much sleep. No biggie. He’d gone days without as a SEAL. His mind
and body still functioned and he could perform just as well. Besides, he’d
suffered more sleepless nights than he could remember. All part of the package
when one returns from war.

“I
didn’t say that. Dang, you’re testy.” She planted her hands on her hips. “If
you must know, you look as gorgeous as ever.” Color rushed to her face. He’d
bet his bottom dollar she hadn’t meant to confess her observation. Too late.
The words soothed his inner restlessness a smidgen.

“I’ve
heard most war veterans suffer from nightmares. Some from post-traumatic stress
disorder with flashbacks and other distressing symptoms.”

He
scowled and began walking again.

“There’s
no shame in admitting you have bad dreams,” she hollered after him.

He spun
around on a dime. “Listen, lady, because I’m only going to say this once. I
don’t speak about that part of my life.
Ever.
Got it?” He bit off each word and spit them out like a rotten peanut.

She
blinked, then slowly nodded. “Yes.”

“Good.
And, for your information, if I feel anything about my service, it’s definitely
not shame.” He turned on his heel and marched back toward the stable.

She ran
to keep up. “I never said your service was shameful.”

He
didn’t slow up in the least while wondering what it would take to drive this pesky
woman away.

“I said
there’s no shame in having bad dreams.”

He
opened the gate and closed it right behind him.

“Damn
it. Would you just stop and listen for a second?” She unlatched the gate, let
herself through, and hurried after him once more.

He stopped,
crossed his arms over his chest, and glared at her.

She
approached, a bit out of breath from her near run from the outside fields.
“You’re service is to be commended and you have more honor and bravery in your
little pinky than most people have in their whole bodies. There are a hundred
reasons for you to hold your head high and I applaud your courage in doing
things most of us couldn’t.” She sucked in a breath. “I’m not trying to dig
through your personal life or try to tell you what to do.”

“I—”

She
raised a hand to his lips. “Please, just hear me out.”

When he
lifted his chin ever so slightly, she removed her fingers. He found the gesture
somewhat soothing. Her words eased some of his turmoil and reminded him some
people actually looked up to those who were lucky enough to return from the
front lines.

“Dusty,
I care for you. That’s all. I just care.”

The
hushed words hit him like a fast moving thunderstorm. Abrupt and powerful at
first, then simmering down to a gentle rain afterward.

Unable
to resist, he cupped her chin in his hands. Slowly, allowing her plenty of time
to step back, he lowered his lips to hers. Softly, he plied her mouth, then
tilted his head, wrapped his arms around her waist, and pulled her flush
against his body.

His
manhood stood up and took notice, not just of the beautiful woman in his arms,
but the brushing of her body against his, the light caresses that set his blood
on fire.

April
gasped. He took advantage, slipped his tongue inside, tangled with hers, and
circled for a taste of the spitfire blonde that was too stubborn to take a
hint.

Hesitant
at first, April gradually began to respond, as if testing out the waters in a
novel experience. She met his tongue, then licked across his lips, exploring
his mouth like she would the rest of his body, with open curiosity and
gentleness.

When
she hit her stride, Dusty nearly groaned. She mirrored his actions while
resting her arms around his neck. Leaning against him, she gave everything back
to him with gusto. He deepened the kiss, sought more of her passion, and
ratcheted up the affectionate act with enough heat to rival the mid-day sun.
Placing his hand on the back of her head, he steadied her as he changed the
angle and pushed her to the point of breathlessness.

Reluctantly,
he eased back, letting their lips cling for a moment longer before separating.
He drew in a deep breath and read her face. April’s blue eyes shined brightly,
full of surprise and longing. Her lips were slightly swollen from his
attentions and pink stained her cheeks as she panted like she’d just run a mile
full out. Pleasure radiated from her face as she stared up him with awe and
perhaps recently discovered need.

“Amazing,”
she whispered.

He
rubbed his thumb across her lips. Not entirely comfortable with her praise and
the expression on her face, he released her completely, turned around, and
headed to the nearest stall.

She
posed too much of a threat to his hard won control and challenged his rule of
only pursuing women for the purpose of a one-night stand. April wasn’t a hot to
trot woman who enjoyed man hopping any more than he was a man who sought
commitment and the stability of marriage.

Oil and
water.

He
attached more lead ropes and continued the task of moving horses from stalls to
the fields outside, kicking his own ass the entire way.