The Ranger's Rodeo Rebel (10 page)

“And I think you need to keep staying at the ranch.”

She didn't want to. She wanted life to return to normal. She sighed. “Yeah, I probably should.”

That meant more one-on-one time with Chance. A double-edged sword. Last night, she'd woken up from a nightmare only to sense him staring at her. She'd wanted to open her eyes, but she hadn't. If she had, she might have done something stupid like hold out her hand to him. He might have seen what she couldn't hide.

Instead he had slipped away, and she'd tossed and turned, wondering if she should have opened her eyes.

No. She'd done the right thing. She knew that.

Carolina tipped her head back, letting the sunshine soak her face, enjoying the peace it brought her. All too soon, the peace ended when they crossed through the double gates to Reynolds Ranch. She should feel better about coming home—although it wasn't her home. That was the problem. She would be forced to live there for however much longer it would take to get James out of her life.

Chance cleared his throat. “Looks like my sister is here.”

She snapped awake. Claire?

Sure enough, Chance's sister stood by the entrance to the barn, one of her rescue dogs sitting at her feet, a smile on her face as they pulled up. Caro couldn't get out of the truck fast enough. She adored Claire Reynolds, soon to be Claire McCall. The woman had been incredibly kind to her the past year.

“I was just leaving you a note,” she said, her long black hair so dark and her green eyes so light she always reminded Caro of one of those dolls sold in dime stores with eyes as big as nickels. “Natalie told me you should be home soon.”

The front door slammed as Natalie came outside, too. Her baby bump was barely noticeable despite the fact she was due to deliver soon.

“I thought that might be you,” she said, her blue eyes echoing the smile on her face. “How was your drive?”

“Long,” Carolina muttered before she could stop herself. She cringed. Some of her own self-loathing must have leaked out.

“Colt filled me in,” Natalie said kindly. “You going to the police station today?”

She shook her head. “I already called. Officer Connelly isn't on duty today. I have to call first thing in the morning.”

“Natalie told me what happened,” Claire said, smoothing her black hair, which was clipped up atop her head. The style suited her heart-shaped face. “That's why I brought you Inga.” She patted the dog's head.

“Inga?”

Carolina didn't understand. She glanced at Chance as if he might be in on the secret, but he simply nodded knowingly.

Claire's smile was a wide as a sunrise. “I brought you a Belgian Malinois, and she's yours.”

“Mine?” Her gaze slipped over them all, settling on Chance.

He had clearly caught on right away, because he said, “She's perfect.”

She still didn't get it, not really. “You mean she's mine to keep?”

Claire nodded again.

“You can keep her up in the apartment,” Natalie said. “We don't mind. She's house-trained, too. And they're great dogs. I have one, but she's over at Claire's house nursing puppies.”

“I don't know what to say.”

Claire lifted a hand. “Say yes, but I'll understand if you want to think about it. Trust me, though. Inga needs a job, and you need protecting. It's a match made in heaven.”

Inga whined. Caro's gaze fell on the mostly black dog. The animal stared straight at her, bouncing from one paw to another.

“Come on,” Claire said, motioning her over. “Make her acquaintance.”

Caro walked over slowly, hesitant. “I've never owned a dog before.”

“This isn't a dog. This is a military war dog, and they're the closest thing to a human canine you'll ever find. They're a little more high-strung than a normal dog, but with your active life, you won't have any problem with her, and if you do, I'll take her back. Like I said, the main thing is to make sure you're protected.”

Caro squatted, showing the dog her hand. Inga immediately licked it. That gave her enough confidence to touch the dog's majestic head. Black eyes that matched her black fur peered back at her. They were specked with brown, just like her coat. She was soft and she smelled like coconut oil. When the dog pushed her head into her, as if to say, “It's okay,” a lump formed in her throat.

She looked down at the ground, overwhelmed with gratitude. Her eyes burned, though there was no reason to cry.

No one had ever done anything so nice for her. Everything she'd had, it'd all taken hard work. People didn't give her things, not even temporarily. She sucked in a breath. These people—Claire, Natalie, Colt, Chance—they not only gave from the heart, they cared.

Inga moved. Carolina felt a wet nose against her cheek, then a warm tongue. She closed her eyes, opened her arms and the dog walked into them.

“Thank you,” she said, burying her face in the dog's scruff and having to work hard to get the words out over the lump in her throat. “I don't know if I'll be able to keep her. I mean, it would mean moving from my apartment.”

“Something you may want to do, anyway,” Natalie counseled.

“But I couldn't possibly say no to such an adorable animal.” She met Claire's gaze. “This is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“You're welcome,” Claire said with a smile.

“I'll go grab some tea,” Natalie said. “We can sit outside and watch you work with her.”

When Caro looked up, she spotted Chance gazing down at her, the smile still on his face, his military stance still present despite having been out of the armed services for weeks. She would never forget the way he'd jumped in to help her. The way he'd taken down James. And as he smiled, as he watched her pet her new dog, she admitted how much she liked him and how much she wished he were sticking around. She wanted to be a part of his family. She wanted to know what it was like to have the support of loved ones. To know she would always have a place to come home to.

It broke her heart because she'd never have that.

Chapter Twelve

Chance woke up in the middle of the night, his stomach churning.

The police had released James.

Caro had shared the news yesterday after she'd insisted on going to the police alone. Apparently, it was no big deal when someone violated a restraining order. A felony, yes, but as a police officer had explained to Caro, James wasn't considered armed and dangerous, not without proof. It was his word against hers that he'd shot at her horse, so they'd had to let him go. A slap on the wrist.

Chance hadn't had a solid night's sleep since.

Officer Connelly had tried to reassure her. Told her the police would do what they could. Step up patrols. Yadda, yadda, yadda. Chance knew none of it would work. James was out there. Obsessed. Angry. Insane. Chance had seen it before. He'd probably see it again.

He got out of bed and slipped on clothes without making a noise—he owed this talent to his years in the military. If you disturbed the barrack, something might be thrown at your head. He pulled on his cowboy boots and then headed out into the night.

Carolina's apartment was dark. She was probably sound asleep, unlike him. Moonlight cast a silvery sheen over the metal roof, the reflection of its face a bright smudge in the middle. It wouldn't be light for hours, but that was okay. His internal clock still wanted him to believe it was midafternoon, Kazakhstan time.

He paused on the front stoop, listening. Nothing but the sound of crickets, and in the far distance, a rooster that appeared to be messed up about the time of day. All was as it should be. Carolina slept, Inga stood guard and the world continued to turn.

It'd been his idea to give her the dog. Claire hadn't balked. She, more than anyone, understood what it was like to be a single woman, alone, with no one to share her life. That would change soon. She would marry Ethan in December. Her Christmas present, she claimed, and Chance couldn't be happier for her.

The barn was dark, too, but he wasn't headed that way. Teddy was kept in a pasture. No fancy stall for him. The old cow horse didn't like being cooped up. It was a simple matter to halter the horse and lead him to the tie rack. Chance didn't know how the animal would take to being ridden, but he needed the practice. Yesterday, while Caro had gone to the police station, he'd pulled one of the Galloping Girlz up behind him from a full-on run. Not once, but several times, and everyone who'd been out there had hooted and hollered. He'd never been so relieved in his life.

“You want to run again?” he asked Teddy, patting the animal on the neck. It'd been years since Chance had taken a midnight ride. Years since he'd knotted the lead rope through the halter and beneath the horse's chin and then swung up without a saddle. When he'd been a kid, riding at night was the only time his dad could be counted on to leave him alone. Zeke had been passed out by then. Too drunk to beat the crap out of him for sneaking a ride on one of his horses. Small miracle Chance and his siblings had turned out normal. He grinned wryly. Well, somewhat normal.

The moon lit the ground a light gray. There was a light over the main barn, which helped to illuminate the outdoor arena. He headed toward it without a second thought, giving old Teddy a warm-up, the midnight air cool against his face. The moisture in the air clung to his face as he broke Teddy into a lope. The horse behaved like the perfect gentleman he was, and that gave Chance time to think.

About
her
.

The look on her face when Claire had given her Inga... It'd been one of such startled gratitude. It was as if no one had ever given her anything before. He realized then he didn't know much about her, and even more startling, that he wanted to know more. Why didn't she talk about her family? What did she like to eat in the morning? Did she prefer ice cream or cupcakes? Country music or pop?
Why?
he asked himself. Why did he want to know? It shouldn't matter. And yet, strangely, it did.

“You going to practice until your legs fall off?”

He damn near fell off Teddy, and it was a sign of how distracted he was that he hadn't seen her approach.
Son of a—
His men would have never let him live such a thing down.

He pulled Teddy up. Carolina peeled herself away from the shadows alongside the barn. That was why he hadn't seen her. She'd purposely stayed hidden.

“I saw you from your window.” She pointed over her shoulder at the apartment. Except it wasn't his window. It was only ever supposed to be a temporary stop. Natalie was thinking about hiring an assistant to live there once he was gone and this thing with Caro passed.

“Just thought I'd get in a little more practice.”

Her hair caught the moonlight, the blond strands backlit by the light above the barn. She'd left it hanging down, and he wondered if that was because she'd just come from bed.
That
particular thought prompted images he didn't need.

“Wanna try and pull me up?”

Did he want to touch her? No. He had a feeling that a barrier of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt wouldn't be enough to keep him from feeling it again—the sense of possessiveness, the need to protect, the desire to hold her and...do what? Love her and leave her?

“Sure,” he answered. Experience had taught him to face his problems, and Carolina had definitely become a problem.

She strolled to the arena gate, slipping through on nearly silent feet, and his heart thumped the way it did the morning of an op. His mouth had gone dry, too. All because of
her
.

“You want to me stand in the middle?” she asked.

On the rail or off to the side, he didn't care. It would all lead to the same thing: touching her. “Wherever you want.”

She nodded and stopped in the middle. He took a deep breath, and though he'd practiced the maneuver what felt like a million times, he was nervous. This weekend would be the first time he would need to actually perform Colt's routine, but he'd yet to practice it with Caro. He'd been putting it off.

Teddy seemed to know what they were about to do. The horse had been through the routine enough times Chance didn't doubt the animal had it memorized. Sure enough, when he lightly tapped the animal on the sides, Teddy lurched into a canter. There was no need to guide him with his makeshift reins. If Chance hadn't been afraid of them slipping over his neck, he would have let them go. Instead he clutched them with one hand, gathering speed as he rounded a corner, the dew so heavy now it stung his face.

Carolina held out a hand. He reached for her, tensing, because things had to be timed perfectly. Teddy would need to slow down and Chance would need to lock his hand with hers. A hand that shook, he admitted, clutching the reins tighter.

Three. Two. One.

They touched. He lost focus, but only for a split second, and then he was pulling and she was swinging and suddenly she was up behind him.

“Good job!”

He'd done it. There would be no need to humiliate himself in front of a huge crowd—

Her hands slipped under his arms, her fingers touching his belly and his stomach contracted from the heat. He tilted left. She corrected right. He clutched Teddy's mane, and somehow they both managed to stay on.

“Sorry,” he heard her say, her warm body pressed up against his own. “I didn't mean to startle you.”

“You didn't.”

It had happened again when they'd touched. Electricity. Fire. Desire.

Son of a—

“Do you want to try it again?”

He grimaced inwardly. “Sure.” He pulled Teddy up.

She slipped off and oh, thank God, stopped touching him. It was like stepping from a hot shower and into cool evening air. He could breathe again.

“I'll go to the other side of the arena then.”

Teddy knew the drill. There was hardly any need to prompt the horse into a run. The wind felt good against Chance's face. He wished he could still keep running instead of leaning left, holding out a hand then pulling her up behind him.

There it went again.

His pulse. His breathing. His very sanity. The moment she touched him it was all he could do not to lean away from her.

“I think we're good,” he said, pulling Teddy up.

“I should probably try to stand.”

She smelled like honeysuckle. And that damn fabric softener. “Maybe we should try that when it's daylight.”

“Just put him back into a run. It'll take a sec.”

If he protested again he'd look like a wimp, and a wimp he definitely was not. So he clucked Teddy forward, the horse completely at ease carrying them around in the dead of night with nothing but bats and owls for an audience. He felt her shirt, the press of her palms against his shoulder. It was a new form of torture, but only because out of nowhere came the image of her touching him elsewhere, and it caused him to stiffen and her to cry out. Before he could help steady her, she'd begun to fall. He couldn't believe it. He'd practiced the move a hundred times with the other girls.

“Caro—”

He was so discombobulated he couldn't quite catch her, and this time she fell on her side, her gasp of pain enough to make him jerk on the rope and stop Teddy.

His heart thundered as he slid off Teddy. “Caro! Are you okay?”

She clutched her ankle. “I'm still sore from falling off the other day.”

When James had tried to kill her. Well, maybe not kill her, but certainly ruin her practice session. “Where does it hurt?”

“My ankle.”

“Let me see,” he said. “Lean back.”

“I'll be okay.” She tried to push his hands away.

“Just relax. I'm trained for this.”

He was also trained to keep his cool while under fire, not fall apart when a woman touched him. He wouldn't dwell on that, though. He needed to remove her boot, a tricky task. He looked into her eyes, and he could tell she tried to hide how much pain she was in.

“Can you take it off?”

He watched her eyes, big and blue, in the moonlight. Her blond hair was mussed, and her lips strained to keep from quivering. He hated seeing her in pain, just as he'd hated seeing the fear in her eyes when James had confronted her.

“I'll be gentle.”

He slipped off her boot. She grimaced, but didn't move. He chuckled when he saw her socks. They were black. With smiley faces.

“Happy socks,” she explained.

Happy socks. Because she needed something to smile about.

“I like them,” he said. “And your ankle doesn't feel swollen.”

“I think it's just sprained.”

“Let's get you up.” He would have to touch her again. “Here.” He bent down and slipped an arm behind her.

Shampoo.

He tried not to breathe too deeply as he helped her to her feet. She leaned against him, and his body reacted to how good she felt. It'd been so long...

“I'll help you to your apartment,” he said.

“I can walk by myself.”

“And hurt your ankle even more? No. I'll wrap it for you once we get to your place. And you should probably stay off it for the rest of the week. Here. Let me turn Teddy loose. Can you stand for a second?”

“Yes.”

Sweet relief. That's what he experienced when he stepped away.

Teddy seemed only too happy to be set free in the arena. Chance tossed the halter toward the rail. He'd come back for the horse later. With a deep breath, he headed back to Caro, silently reciting the list of reasons for nipping this damn physical attraction in the bud.

“Ready?” he asked, not wanting to touch her, yet knowing he'd have to slip an arm around her again.

“Ready.” She didn't like being a burden. He could see it in her eyes. He spotted something else, too. A shyness that seemed to make it hard for her to look at him. She couldn't hold his gaze for more than a second.

She felt it, too.

It was like discovering the monster under your bed was really a soft, fuzzy toy. A cute little unicorn. Something that could be taken out and played with. He looked away, at the ground.

She wanted him. He wanted her, too.

Life just got a whole helluva lot more complicated.