Cynthia Thomason - The Bridesmaid Wore Sneakers

He walked down the aisle, stopping to look into stalls. “These guys don’t look so bad,” he said.

“Not now. I have a vet tech come out once a week to check their vitals and adjust their feed.”

“That must be expensive.”

She gave him a skeptical look. “Knowing we’re a charity, the tech at least gives me a reduced price.” Jude took a carrot from her pocket and gave it to a horse that had to top sixteen hands. “This guy is twenty-one years old. He probably doesn’t have too long, and he deserves to live out his life in comfort.”

Liam continued to the end of the barn, where a stall was occupied by a large bay. When he approached the horse, the animal reared up on its hind legs and pawed the stall gate. Liam jumped back.

“Don’t go near Titan,” Jude said. “He doesn’t like strangers. Actually he doesn’t like anyone.” She went to the gate and spoke softly to the agitated animal. Slowly the horse calmed but still pawed the ground and whinnied in some sort of equine frustration.

“This animal had suffered the worst case of abuse I’ve come across,” she said. “He was skin and bones when he got here. He’d been whipped and beaten, drugged and hit with electrical charges while he was on the race circuit.”

Jude took another carrot from her pocket and held it for Titan. “Is it any wonder he’s a bit cranky?”

Liam tried to feel for these animals something of the sympathy Jude obviously did. Yes, it was a shame that animals could be treated so cruelly, but the bills for caring for these creatures had to be enormous. Liam thought of Dr. Foster and was reminded that he was here to find ways to cut some of these expenses. “I can’t even imagine what it costs to take care of these animals, Jude,” he said.

She narrowed her eyes again. “That’s the third time you’ve mentioned the cost. You really are a money guy.”

He shrugged.

“But again, to respond to your comment, it’s not cheap. Thank goodness my dad supports my efforts to fund the foundation. He’s our biggest contributor, and he knows how important these causes are to me, how important they would have been to my husband.”

Liam shook his head. If she only knew. Dr. Foster was no doubt a patient, kind man, a good and loving father, but no one who wasn’t a multimillionaire could carry this burden forever.

She turned away from the stall and started back down to the barn opening. She stopped along the way, adjusted tack on the walls, hung a water bucket on a hook for a horse. Each movement was smooth and natural, and not wasted. Jude O’Leary was in her element in this barn. Her plaid shirt was dusted with hay. Her jeans were coated with feed and goat spit. Liam felt out of place, like the quintessential rhinestone cowboy, a phony in clean jeans.

“So, what do you think, Liam?” she asked as they came into the barnyard.

He wanted to say, “I think you’re amazing,” because a big part of him truly believed it. Liam would be reluctant to even take in a stray cat, and here this woman devoted her life to creatures who needed help. He wondered how many hours of her days were spent taking care of these needy animals and how many hours she spent helping other causes. She might not be the most practical woman he’d ever met, but she had to be one of the kindest.

But he was here at her father’s request so Jude’s good works didn’t send the poor doctor into bankruptcy. It shouldn’t matter that Jude’s hair was the color of summer wheat in the sunshine, or that her slim body was muscled and toned from hard work. Liam liked looking at Jude. She had hard angles and soft curves, and she was nothing like the starvation-diet women he saw in the offices in Cleveland or that his mother introduced him to. She might come from money, she might have been raised on Dancing Falls, but there was nothing debutant about Jude. She was pure, unspoiled, raw, in an unembellished-beauty sort of way.

“Do you want to contribute to any of the causes you’ve seen so far?” she asked, interrupting his thoughts.

“I might,” he evaded.

“What do you do, anyway?” she asked. “Are you an accountant?”

“Partly,” he said, knowing she was understating his expertise. “I have a master’s degree in economics, and I currently work for the firm of Baird and Picard, financial planners. I basically monitor trends, study performance graphs, try to separate sound investments from riskier ones.” He paused before her eyes completely glazed over.

“Oh. Maybe you can help me cut some expenses. I’m not much with a pencil and calculator.”

She couldn’t have given him a better opening. “I’d be glad to try,” he said.

“I can’t pay you,” she added.

“No problem. If I can help you, consider that a donation to one of the causes.”

“Sounds fair. I actually do a lot of bartering to keep the foundation going. Thanks.”

A dated Toyota pulled up to the barn and a kid got out. Liam recognized him as Jude’s son, Wesley. Jude gave him a quick hug and waved to the woman driving the car. “Thanks for picking him up at the bus stop, Rosie,” she said.

The Toyota left and Jude gave her son the typical mom attention. “How was school? Did you eat all your lunch?”

“Okay. Yes.” Wesley stared at Liam. “Hey, you were at the wedding, weren’t you?”

“I was. It was quite a party.”

“Yeah, it was cool. What’s your name?”

Liam told him.

They actually chatted about the wedding and some of the guests as if they were old friends. The kid was easy to talk to.

Jude postponed any further conversation when she reminded her son of his chores, “Hey, Wes, you want to round up the goats and put them back in their pen?”

“Can I do it in a minute, Mom? I’d like to show Liam my science project.” He flashed Liam a hopeful grin. “It’s in the house upstairs. Do you want to see it?”

Liam looked to Jude for approval. She shrugged. “Sure. Okay with me.”

They both followed Wesley up the stairs to the family’s living quarters. Liam wondered if the faint smells of the barn would follow them into the house. He was surprised to enter a small but neat home with no earthy odors. He smiled. Of course the windows were closed.

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