A Cowboy's Angel

He came up next to her and whatever aftershave he wore wafted toward her on a breeze. Sage again. And pine. And then something different, yes, there it was...leather and horses. Her two favorite smells in the world, and they emanated from her enemy.

“He’s the one coming off the sesamoid injury.”

“How bad of a break was it?”

“Doc called it an apical fracture. No tendon damage. I could probably race him, but...”

If he did, the odds of the horse breaking down again were huge, and the next time might be catastrophic. She clutched the front of the stall, her stomach doing that odd little flip thing again, the same thing it’d done when she’d first spotted him at the track. Most owners would send a horse back to work—damn the long-term consequences. That he didn’t, well, it was one more reason to get her lust under control. She could never get involved with a man who raced horses for a living, even if he was one of the nicer ones.

“Did the bone chip?” she asked.

“No. Just a hairline fracture. Enough to make him lame. He’s been off since November.”

That translated to six months. “He should be nice and healed by now.”

“Doc said he is. He gets daily turnout and I haven’t seen him take a lame step in months. Just not sure what to do with him.”

Okay, brace yourself.

She turned and faced him. “This is exactly the type of horse I think I can help you with.” She cleared her throat. “As long as there’s no bone chip or full fracture, there isn’t any reason why he couldn’t go on to perform in a dressage arena or maybe even a jumping pen. I’d want to see his X-rays before I make a judgment call, but if they look good, and you don’t mind, I’d like to put some miles on him under saddle, maybe take some new film in a few weeks to see how he’s holding up and, if it looks good, call a few friends of mine.”

“You want to ride him?”

She took a deep breath before facing him again. Why was he looking at her like that? “Yeah. You know. Leg him up, get a feel for what’s going on up here.” She tapped her head. “Maybe take some video so I can assess how he moves. See if he has any potential.”

He’d done it again, moved closer. She hadn’t even noticed. “You’re really determined to help me, aren’t you?”

It felt as if she’d swallowed an air bubble all of a sudden. “Not you,” she choked out, “your horses.”

“I see. I’m still the enemy?”

She steeled herself. “As long as you race horses, you will always be the enemy.”

When she snuck a glance at him, he seemed disappointed and almost hurt.

Ignore it, she told herself.

“Good to know where I stand.”

“I just want to make sure we’re on the same page.”

“Oh, we are.”

She nodded. “I’ll partner with you, but only for the horses’ sake.”

“Got it.”

She took another deep breath, telling herself she should be grateful he understood.

Why do you feel like such a jerk, then?

“So my first bit of advice is to list your horses on this website I know about. It’s for off-the-track racehorses. A lot of trainers keep an eye on what’s being posted there.”

“Just give me the URL.”

“But before we do that, I’ll need to ride him first.”

“And are you any good at riding?”

She imagined the double entendre to his word. No way was he flirting with her again after what she’d just made clear.

“I grew up on horseback.”

“Oh, yeah? Were you one of those spoiled horse-show kids?”

He wasn’t being mean, just curious. And, yes, she had definitely imagined the double entendre.

She gave her attention back to the horse. “No. My family couldn’t afford riding lessons, so I hung out at the local riding stable. The resident horse expert took pity on me.” She tipped her chin up proudly. “It took a lot of hard work, but I learned to ride well enough that I qualified for a national scholarship. Rode for my college team until entering grad school. So, yes, I ride.”

“I’m impressed.”

Don’t fall for his soothing charm.

“If I hadn’t learned how to ride, I doubt I would have ever gotten into vet school. We couldn’t have afforded it.”

When she dared to look into his dark blue eyes again, she saw interest there, maybe even admiration.

“Lucky for all the abused racehorses in the world that you did.”

Except his horses didn’t look abused. Far from it. Dandy was the picture of good health.

“It’s been a while, though,” she admitted. “Haven’t been on a horse in a few months.” She was at the mercy of whoever had a horse that needed exercising since she couldn’t afford one of her own, not that she needed one. She had her hands full.

“Why not get back on right now?”

She straightened in surprise. “Oh, I don’t know. Dandy’s injury...”

“Doc cleared him for work weeks ago.”

“Yeah, but I’d still like to look at his chart.”

“You don’t have to work him. Just walk him around. He’ll be fine.”

He was challenging her—she could see it in his eyes. Maybe all her talk of being wary adversaries had gotten under his skin. Or maybe he just wanted to see what she was capable of and what he was getting into, not that she blamed him.

“What if he gets away from me in his excitement at being ridden again?” She shook her head. “I’d rather come back tomorrow.”

Regroup. Get her head screwed on straight, because right now she had a hard time remembering what he did for a living and that as much as she’d like to succumb to his friendly blue eyes, he could never be her friend.