Wyoming Sweethearts

She pulled to a stop in front of a carport that had seen better days. A rusty truck rested in the shade. Overgrown grass danced in the wind as she watched Sean’s vehicle pull up beside her. Maybe the last wheeze of the air conditioner was the reason the hair stood up on her arms. She did not want it to be a reaction to the man strolling into sight. She braced herself for the inevitable and reached for her cane.

Sean Granger looked like a western hero in his long-legged worn blue jeans. The white T-shirt he wore emphasized his sun-kissed tan and as he swept off his Stetson, muscles rippled beneath the knit cotton blend.

He raked one hand through his brown hair and smiled down at her as he opened her car door. His dreamy blue eyes captured her with a steady stare and then his gaze slid downward as she climbed out from behind the wheel, stood tall and used her cane.

Here was where he dimmed down the smile and his friendliness when he got a good look at her cane. It’s what most guys did whether they were interested or not. She braced herself for it as she took one limping step, but it didn’t come. Instead Sean closed the door for her, nodding toward the horses. “Did you get a look at them?”

“No, I was too busy trying not to lose my car in one of the potholes,” she quipped and was rewarded with a grin as he swept his hat back on.

“They saw the truck and came running. Look at them.” His hand settled on the curve of her shoulder, a friendly weight, as he turned her gently toward the fence line. “I wonder if their former owner drove a truck like mine.”

“They keep staring at it, almost waiting for someone else who might be in there.” She gasped, realizing how they must be feeling. “Dr. Cannon didn’t say how long the gentleman who owned them has been gone.”

“Three months. Animals don’t forget those they love.” Sean ambled up to the fence and held out his hands for the horses to scent.

She took the opportunity to put a little physical distance between them. He was more touchy-feely than she was used to or felt comfortable with. “How do you know that?”

“Uncle Frank knew. I told him where I was headed. He knows everyone in these parts.” Sean patted one of the horses. The big black gelding lowered his head for a good ear scratch. No one had taken time to comb out the tangles and burrs in his mane, and his hooves needed attention.

“You are a good fellow,” Sean mumbled and the horse closed his eyes in trust. There was something deeply calming about the man, Eloise agreed. He made others feel safe.

“Are you the folks the vet called about?” A middle-age man wearing faded overalls and carrying a pipe limped into sight. He didn’t seem to be in good health.

“We are.” She spun to face him, thinking about the blank check her boss had handed over to her. “I’m Eloise from the Lark Song Inn.”

“I’m Harry.” He tipped his sagging hat. “Are you still interested now that you’ve seen them? They ain’t much, and I regret to say I’m not up to caring for them.”

“I’m sure we can settle on a price.” She glanced over her shoulder at the horses, one still accepting strokes from Sean, the other watching the blue pickup sadly. He finally lowered his head, perhaps realizing his beloved former owner would not be emerging from the pickup, and stood still and silent, his dejection as tangible as the wind on her face.

She couldn’t bring back to them what was lost, but she could make sure these horses were cherished and pampered. Good things were ahead for them. They just didn’t know it yet. She tugged the check out of her purse, wondering how best to proceed.

“Do you trust me?” Sean towered over her, as breathtaking as any hero in a Western legend. “I can negotiate for you, if you’d like.”

“Yes, thank you.” She handed him the check, relieved in more ways than she knew how to say. She had no idea what the horses were worth, and she could see the man had a tough row to hoe. She didn’t know what was fair, but she sensed Sean knew how to make it right.

She watched him stride away and offer Harry his hand. They shook, making introductions and small talk about the man who was deceased. A low-throated nicker caught her attention, and she found the friendlier horse watching her with curious eyes.

“Your lives are about to improve.” She ran her fingertips down the gelding’s graying nose. “Just you wait and see.”

In the back lot at the inn Sean lowered the ramp with a clatter, surprised as Eloise tapped up the incline with a lead rope in hand. She didn’t let her cane slow her down much. A glow of admiration filled him as he followed her up. The horses, not used to the trailer, were in various stages of fear. The black one fidgeted against his gate.

Eloise laid a comforting hand on his flank and spoke calmly and confidently like someone who had been around horses all her life. “It’s going to be all right, Licorice.”

The gelding blew out a breath, as if he were highly doubtful of that.

“How about you, Hershey?” she asked, unlatching the brown gelding’s gate. The bay glanced over his shoulder to study her, his eyes white-rimmed, but he didn’t move much as Eloise clipped into his halter and led him out.

Why couldn’t he look away? He ought to be paying attention to the horses, but all he saw was the woman. She walked like a ballerina even with an obvious limp.

There was strength and a beauty inside her that became clearer every time he looked.

“I know you’re worried, Hershey, but trust me when I say you have one of the best stalls in the county waiting for you.” Her alto rose and fell like a song over the pad of her cane and the clomp of hooves on the ramp. “Cady went all out when she built this stable. Every stall is huge and it has a view. That’s it. Turn for me, big guy. Come this way, that’s right.”

Kindness made a woman truly beautiful, Sean decided as he laid a hand on the black’s neck. The gelding shivered, lunging nervously against the metal barrier.

“It’s all right,” he crooned, aware of the tension bunching in the horse’s muscles. “It has to be hard having no say in this, but you are going to be just fine. No worries, buddy.”

He clipped on the lead and backed the horse down the ramp. Every step Licorice took was halting as if he wanted to bolt into the trailer and go home. The unknown can be scary, so Sean used his voice to reassure the horse and led him down the breezeway between large but empty box stalls.

All he had to do was follow Eloise’s voice, which felt as natural as breathing. Sunlight found her, burnishing her blond hair and haloing her like a Renaissance painting. Her frilly blouse and slacks weren’t typical barn wear, but she didn’t look out of place as she secured the gate to the straw-strewn stall. Inside, Hershey gave a snort and paraded around, taking in his view of the grassy paddock and various troughs for water, grain and alfalfa.

“Licorice can have the corner stall.” She spotted him coming and opened the gate wide. “Rocco, who’s on barn duty, has everything ready for them.”

Across the row, a gold-and-white mare raced in from her paddock and clattered to a stop in her stall. Curious to meet her new neighbors, she arched her neck, whinnying in a friendly manner. Her big chocolate eyes shone a welcome.

“This is an exciting day for Misty, since she’s been all alone in the stable,” Eloise explained as he closed the gate and unhooked the lead.

“It’s a pretty good day for me, too,” he quipped, not at all sure how to say what he was feeling. “We did good work today.”

“Yes, and I am indebted to you, sir.” She handed him back the rope she’d used on Hershey. “I couldn’t have done this without help.”

“You mean without me.”

“Well, yes, since you’re the one who helped me.” She gave her shiny hair a toss behind her shoulder, shaking her head at him as if she didn’t know what to make of him. “It was good of you to volunteer. Cheyenne doesn’t know what she missed out on. Until next time, that is.”

“Hey, I don’t mind doing this again.” He kept his tone casual and made sure he didn’t make eye contact. A lone wolf didn’t work at making connections, he kept things light and loose. “I had fun. There’s a lot of satisfaction to this. These horses weren’t wanted, and now they are. It’s a good way to spend an afternoon.”

“So, you’re really volunteering for next time?”

“Absolutely. Might as well make myself useful. Besides, Cheyenne might be busy and I have lots of spare time.”

“Doesn’t Frank keep you busy at the ranch?” Her grin hitched up in the corners of her soft mouth.

Cute. He ambled down the aisle at her side. “Sure.

I get in a hard day’s work. Lately, my personal life has been a bit slow. That’s the way I want to keep it.”

“Me, too.” Was that a hint of sorrow turning her gorgeous eyes a deep, emerald green?

Hard to tell because it was gone as quickly as it came. “That is, if you want me to lend a hand. You know I come with a horse trailer, right?”

“I know.” She rolled her eyes at him.

Cuter. “Then you aren’t agreeing to this reluctantly?”

“I am.” She leaned her head back and gazed up into his eyes full on, a spark of humor lighting her up. “I am very reluctant about you.”

“Sure, cuz most folks are.” He smiled all the way down to his toes. It was nice being with her. They emerged through the open double doors into the kiss of the late-May sun and heat. Larks warbled, robins swooped by and a sparrow up on the roof chirped at them warningly. Grass whispered in the wind, leaves rustled and he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so good.