Tina Beckett - His Girl From Nowhere

“Do you want to touch him?” Trisha walked right over to the animal and stroked a hand down his neck, smoothing a misplaced braid.

“That’s okay.” He kept to the far side of the aisle, hoping against hope there wasn’t going to be another incident like the one a couple of days ago.

“Come on. He won’t hurt you. You’ve agreed to ride him next week, so you might as well get some of the preliminaries out of the way.”

What had he been thinking, coming out here again? His wife had died handling one of these animals. Did he really want to do this? No. But something about Trisha’s quiet voice and calm manner made him take a step closer. She wasn’t afraid at all.

But, then, Marcy hadn’t been either. And yet in the blink of an eye she’d been gone. And he’d still had to deal with her horses and clients in the midst of everything else. Thankfully, one of her close friends had helped out, going as far as buying the horse that had turned his world upside down. He’d tried to warn her off, but Gloria had insisted it was what Marcy would have wanted, that what had happened had been a tragic accident and not the horse’s fault. She was probably right.

Still, he didn’t want to be trapped in a confined space with one. Anything could happen. “Okay, but could we do this outside the barn?”

She blinked, but nodded. “Sure. Let me just saddle him up.”

Making short work of it, she talked him through the process of swapping the animal’s halter for a bridle, and then she explained the parts of the therapy saddle and showed him how to put it and the blanket on and how to tighten the strap beneath the horse’s belly. Why she thought he needed to know any of this, he had no idea. Marcy had taken him at his word when he’d said he wasn’t interested in riding. She’d never tried to force the issue. Maybe partly to cover up what she’d really been doing at the barn.

If he’d been with her that last day, would she still be alive?

That was something he really didn’t want to think about too closely.

She gave the saddle one last check then said, “Okay, let’s lead him outside.”

His lips quirked. “No wheelbarrow today?”

“Nope.” She grinned back at him. “You lucked out.”

He wasn’t sure he’d consider this lucking out, but he’d do whatever it took to get through this and head back to his own job. Where he felt secure and confident.

Like the last time he’d been here, he remained at Trisha’s side as she told him that a horse should always be led from the left. “Have you ever been around horses at all?”

How to explain without...explaining? “I have, but I haven’t worked with them closely.”

There. Not bad.

Then she arrived at a rectangular fenced-in area that was covered with sandy-looking material. It appeared to have been freshly raked, a system of grooves running through the grains—for his benefit? She stopped and tied the reins to the middle fence post and glanced at her watch. “We still have about five minutes before Bethany arrives so why don’t you introduce yourself to him? Come stand next to me.”

Mike stiffened when she patted the animal on the neck. It was either explain why he had an aversion to horses or do as she asked. He moved closer as she continued stroking the animal.

“This is how I’d approach a patient who’s here for the first time.” She took Mike by the hand, her fingers firm against his as she lifted it and pressed his palm to the animal’s coat, slowly guiding it down the length of the neck. “Isn’t he smooth?”

Was he supposed to answer her? Because, no, it didn’t feel smooth. All he could think about was how anything could happen. In the time it took for him to blink. And that familiar horsy smell that had clung to Marcy whenever she’d come home from the barn... It was right here, with all its terrible reminders of secret meetings and half-truths.

None of it was comforting.

And yet as Trisha continued to guide his hand in slow sweeping strokes over Crow’s coat, the horse stood extremely still, as if he somehow sensed the turmoil lurking just below the surface. And slowly the textures and temperature of the animal’s body began to make themselves known.

“Relax,” she murmured, her voice like the softest silk. “He won’t hurt you.”

He couldn’t bring himself to let his muscles go loose, but he did try to concentrate on things other than how huge and powerful the animal was. Like the warm grip of Trisha’s hand as she held his. Like the scent of her hair and the tickle of her ponytail as it brushed his neck when she twisted her head. He concentrated on her instead of the horse. She bent a little lower, her hand guiding his down the upper portion of the horse’s leg. “Crow could stand here all day and let you do this. He loves it.”

He gulped. Crow wasn’t the only one who could stand there all day. He was suddenly enjoying Trisha’s touch a little too much, allowing his hand to rest in hers a little too heavily.

He didn’t understand why his thoughts were even heading in this direction. He’d been with a couple of other woman since his wife’s death, but those had been quick clinical sessions born out of physical need more than anything.

When Trisha’s thumb curled into his palm as she lifted his arm to place it high on the horse’s back, the friction caused a chain reaction in his body.

She wasn’t purposely trying to switch on his motor, but it was cranking to life anyway. He tried to close his eyes to blot out her face, but it just heightened all of his other senses. The heat of her body next to his. The soothing little sounds she made as she murmured to the horse...to him.

“Isn’t this nice?” she whispered.

Definitely not soothing.

“Trisha...” He turned his head to find her looking right at him, eyes soft and inviting.

He swallowed again.

Hell. He couldn’t believe what he was thinking of doing. Or, worse, that he might actually be getting ready to...

His free hand came up to cup the back of her head, just as a shrill childish voice sounded from behind them.

“Cwow! Cwow! I come see you!”

Crow’s head went up, and Trisha’s eyes jerked away from Mike’s, breaking the spell. She let go of him, and he took a couple of quick steps back, though she seemed to recover her composure with ease.

“Bethany,” she said. “Hello! We’ve gotten Crow all ready for you.”

A dark-haired child in a wheelchair rolled toward them, accompanied by two women, one about Trisha’s age and the other about twenty years older. The younger one came over and stood next to the horse, draping an arm over his neck as Trisha walked over to the other two. She embraced the woman and murmured something to her, then knelt in front of the child. “Are you ready for your ride? We’re going to work really hard on our balance today, aren’t we?”

The child nodded, her hands gripping the armrest of her chair as if she was preparing to rise. When she didn’t actually leave the seat, Mike started to move forward to help, only to have Trisha meet his glance with a subtle shake of her head. He stopped in his tracks.

“Dr. Dunning, this is Bethany Williams and her mom, Gretchen. And this is my assistant, Penny.”

He somehow managed to mutter out the appropriate greetings, although he was still feeling shakier than he cared to admit by what had happened a moment ago. He’d been about to kiss the woman.

Struggling to make sense of this crazy day, he watched while Trisha strapped a shiny black helmet onto the girl’s head before helping her from her chair and leading her step by step to the horse. He was surprised by the headgear, but maybe things were different with kids. Marcy had certainly never used a helmet. If she had...