Karen Anders - High-Stakes Colton

She pulled the saddle from Lotus’s back. Jake pushed off the wall and took it from her. “Like Clay.”

He faced her and their fingers brushed again, but Alanna didn’t remove her fingers. A whiff of her fragrance among all the other pungent smells of the stall only added to his attraction. The killer was it wasn’t some fancy perfume. It was the fresh scent of soap and shampoo. His body soared to life. Like it needed encouragement. Who’d have thought the wafting scent of citrus could give a guy a raging hard-on?

She let go of the saddle and turned back to Lotus. “Exactly like him. He was living mostly on the streets, got caught for shoplifting and instead of juvie, he came here.” She unhooked the lead rope and reached for a brush hanging in a basket. Pulling one out, she started to stroke the horse’s coat. “I offered him a constructive atmosphere instead of destructive. A place where he could live and get back what it felt like to be safe.”

Against his will, memories of Matt surfaced.

She tilted her head and studied him. The look in her eyes was soft and tender, and it did crazy things to his heart. “Did you know someone who lived on the streets? Is that why you have that look on your face?”

She gave Lotus a few more swipes, then dropped the brush into the bucket. He straightened and followed her out. “I knew someone once,” he said.

She headed for the crossover and the tack room. Opening the door, she indicated a saddle rack and he let the pad and blanket drop away into her hands as he slid the saddle in place. She walked over to a blanket bar and set the blanket and pad there.

He was busy neatly adjusting the girth strap, getting it ready for the next time the saddle would be used.

“Making a difference counts,” she said. “It feels good to do something for the greater good.”

He wondered if that was because there was so much infighting in her family. “What prompted you to take on this project?” She turned to him and opened her mouth.

“Alanna?”

The sound of Fowler’s voice sent her gaze to the door. “Here,” she called.

He appeared, looking every inch the oil baron. His mouth pinched when he saw Jake. “I need a word with you.”

“Me?” she asked, although his gaze was on Jake.

“Yes,” he said. “And, you, how goes it with Zorro?”

“It’s Jake. Just in case you forgot my name. It’s progressing,” Jake said.

“See that it continues to progress,” he said curtly, then turned to Alanna. “Come on. We don’t want to be late for dinner. You know how Whitney gets and it’s even worse now Daddy is missing.”

“Can’t we just talk at dinner?” Her voice was weary and Jake wanted to step in and lessen her burden, but that wasn’t why he was here. He had to curb the impulse.

“No. I don’t want to discuss this at the house.”

“Very well. Thank you, Jake, for your help.”

“My pleasure,” he said as Fowler’s eyes narrowed.

“He can finish up in here,” Fowler said, taking Alanna’s arm and ushering her out.

She was turning into a paradox for him. She exuded both vulnerability and strength. But she was warming to him. Fowler’s interruption was ill timed. His gut told him she was about to say something no one in the Colton family had ever heard from her. He was sure she didn’t expose her vulnerability to any of them. That made him feel sad for her and wasn’t a good thing in his line of work. Neutrality was what he needed to maintain and he fought against with her.

There was still a wariness about her that had him wondering what it was going to take to win her over completely. Which was insanity. Because winning her over was not the objective here. Solving her problem wasn’t the goal he needed to achieve. He was here to get the dirt on her so she could either be eliminated as a suspect or she could be arrested. Once that was accomplished, he would go home and she’d either stay here or end up in jail. So there was no point in winning anything.

As soon as they were out the door Jake slipped to the opening and peered out. They were heading for the Cisco barn. Shutting off the light and closing the door, he shadowed behind them. Fowler’s voice carried on the wind.

“I’d rather wait until we got to the stable office to tell you what this is about,” he snarled.

“Why all the secrecy?”

“It involves delicate matters and should be discussed in private.”

“In other words, I’m going to argue and you don’t want everyone to hear.”

“Alanna. Wait until we get to the office.”

“Okay,” she said on a sigh. “But this would be a good time to tell you that I intend to expand the operation. Initiate and open a training center and purchase a string of broodmares and two stallions I have scouted to begin a breeding program for barrel racers.”

“For the love of...” He grabbed her arm and all but dragged her the rest of the way. Jake wanted to throttle the man for treating her so roughly, but kept at a safe distance.

Their heels made a clicking sound on the concrete aisle as they headed toward the office and the door closed with a slam behind them.

Jake noticed there was a gap in the top of the office and the beams. He was going to have to climb if he wanted to hear what they were saying. In the dim interior, he found a makeshift ladder that looked like it was used to access the skylights. He set his foot on the first rung and was up into the beams.

“...out of your mind...thinking...not going...”

He heard pieces of the conversation as he carefully made his way over to the office.

“I don’t care whether you like it or not, Fowler. I’m in charge of the stables.”

“You think you can make this end run because Daddy is absent? He wouldn’t approve this.”

“I’m sick of hearing that. My name is listed as manager of the stables. I’m the one who practically grew up on a horse’s back. They were better companions than half the people I knew. I want to do this my way.”

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