To Protect His Own

“Yeah.” Alex nodded. “I had a horse when I was a kid. But my mom and I moved to Denver when I was in junior high, and that was the end of that.” He didn’t like to think about how his mother lost their home after his father had died of cancer and the medical bills had eaten up all their savings and then some. Or the way she’d had to work two jobs to make ends meet.

He’d helped all he could when he’d grown old enough to work. He and his mother had had only each other to rely on, just like he and Hallie now did. His mom had passed away when Hallie was five.

“Guess I’d better let you get back to your groceries,” Dillon said with a wave. “If you decide to get your daughter a horse, come pay us a visit at Foxwood Farms. We’ve got some nice ones.” He headed toward the house.

I’ll bet you do.

Alex stared after him, wondering what Caitlin and her brother had been arguing over. Dillon seemed like a concerned and caring sibling. But then, one never knew what lay behind closed doors.

Alex walked back across the road, anxious to tell Hallie that she now lived across the road from one of her favorite horsewomen.

CAITLIN SAT in the living room, staring out the window. She felt tired, drained both physically and mentally. Her argument with Dillon had depleted her of the last of her energy, and she sat in Gran’s old rocker with a teacup of chamomile balanced on one knee, trying to calm her frayed nerves. She sipped from the cup, using her right hand to hold it, her left to awkwardly steady it. Her therapy continued twice a week, and though she was gradually improving, she still wondered if she’d ever be able to do the things she’d once taken for granted.

It broke her heart to see her grand prix jumper standing uselessly in a paddock when he should be in a show ring. Couldn’t Dillon understand that the gelding was a reminder of everything she’d lost? Understand or not, at least Dillon had agreed, albeit grudgingly, to get the horse trailer and return for Silver Fox.

Now as Caitlin watched Fox through the window, she saw the gelding’s ears perk. He was staring at something and, hearing the sound of a diesel engine, Caitlin craned her neck to see the far end of the paddock. A school bus was pulling away. A little girl, perhaps eleven or twelve, stood on the shoulder of the road, her gaze locked on Silver Fox. She hesitated and glanced toward the house. Caitlin ducked quickly out of view.

When she looked back, the girl was leaning on the paddock rail, talking to Fox. She stroked his nose, then bent and picked a handful of long, golden brown grass and fed it to him. The gelding lipped the treat from the girl’s hand as though starved, and Caitlin couldn’t help but smile. It brought back her own girlhood fascination with horses.

She set her cup of tea on the round, glass table near the rocker and reached for her cane. Despite her exhaustion, she moved toward the door. Outside, she called to the girl.

“Hi, there. You must be my new neighbor.” She hadn’t realized Alex Hunter had a daughter. Did he also have a wife?

The girl’s head snapped around, sending her long ponytail swinging, and her amber eyes widened as she looked at Caitlin. An odd expression crossed her face, and she pressed her lips together but said nothing.

“It’s okay,” Caitlin said. “I don’t mind if you feed my horse.” She walked excruciatingly slowly toward the paddock. “My name is Caitlin. What’s yours?”

For a moment she didn’t think the girl was going to answer. Long lashes shadowed the child’s eyes as she glanced down at her feet. “Hallie.” Then she reached up to pet Silver Fox’s nose once more. “I know who you are.”

“You do?” Caitlin was fully aware her neighbors knew of her aspirations to ride in the Olympics, and she’d been written up in more than one equine publication. Besides, the hit-and-run accident that had nearly killed her had been the talk of the town. She shouldn’t be surprised Hallie knew her.

“I recognized you from Horse Youth and Equus. I used to read them a lot.”

Recognition dawned with Caitlin, as well. She’d thought Alex Hunter seemed familiar. She remembered him now, as she looked at Hallie. They’d been in Pearl’s Diner on her birthday. Hallie had stared at her until she’d made Caitlin uncomfortable, overly conscious of her wheelchair and her limitations. They might be temporary, but she hated those disabilities, and had no idea how people who were permanently handicapped coped.

“I know you, too. Or at least, I’ve seen you before.” Caitlin forced a smile. “At the diner a couple of weeks ago.” Surely the girl hadn’t meant to be rude that day. After all, kids would be kids. But she also remembered the way Alex had stared at her. Not like she was a freak, but like he found her attractive. He was a good-looking man himself. But these days she didn’t feel much like flirting, and she wasn’t sure who had made her feel most uncomfortable, Alex or his daughter.

Elbows hooked through the paddock rails, Hallie looked at the gray gelding. “This is Silver Fox, isn’t it.” Her words came out not as a question but as a sure statement that she’d just met a celebrity of the four-legged variety.

“Yes, it is. The one and only.” She kept her tone light, though her heart felt heavy. She should sell the gelding. He was in his prime and worth six figures. No sense letting such a champion go to waste. The thought made her head throb.

“What happened to you?” Hallie asked abruptly. She looked down at the cane. “You were in a wheelchair that day at the restaurant.”

“Yes, I was,” Caitlin said. Deciding forthright was best, she met the kid’s honest, open gaze. “I was hit by a car. I suffered broken ribs, a bruised hip, a concussion and a compression fracture in my spine.”

Hallie frowned. “What’s a compression fracture?”

“It’s a break…it means I have to wear this back brace for another four weeks,” Caitlin said, lifting the tail of her shirt to expose the stretchy material that bound her like an old-fashioned girdle.

“Will it get better?”

“Probably.” But there would be residual pain, the doctor had warned.

“So then you’ll be riding in the Olympics?”

Caitlin pursed her lips. “Afraid not, kiddo.” She tapped her temple with one forefinger. “The concussion messed up my sense of balance. I can’t ride at all.” Hell, she could barely walk.

“So who’s going to ride Silver Fox?” Hallie asked.

Who indeed? Not me… Caitlin pushed the hated words from her mind. “I don’t know yet. My brother is going to pick him up today and take him back to my parents’ Thoroughbred ranch.”

“He is?” The child’s face fell.

Before Caitlin could answer, a rich, deep voice cut in. “Hallie, are you bothering Ms. Kramer?”

Caitlin turned to look over her shoulder at Alex, noting for the first time how dark his eyes were. How his hair was almost the same shade as her own, what she could see of it from beneath his black cowboy hat. In faded jeans, a Western shirt and cowboy boots, he looked every inch the rodeo cowboy, right down to the big oval buckle at his waist. It bore the outline of a quarter horse and, to her surprise, was engraved like a trophy buckle. She wondered if he’d actually won it. She hadn’t noticed any horses at his place.

“She’s fine,” Caitlin said. With effort, she looked away. The cane and her left arm, curled awkwardly at her side, made her self-conscious. She hadn’t even bothered with makeup since the accident, and her hair was in a careless ponytail much like Hallie’s. She looked more like a high school kid than a senior in college.

Former senior. For the millionth time, Caitlin cursed the drunk driver who’d shattered her life and murdered the unborn baby of the Good Samaritan in the Chevy Blazer, a woman who’d been five months pregnant.

“She knows better than to trespass,” Alex said, breaking her from her thoughts. But his tone wasn’t harsh, his voice conveying the love and pride he felt for his daughter. He grinned. “But then, so do I. Sorry about the misunderstanding earlier.”

Caitlin shrugged. “No problem.” She really didn’t want to get into her personal issues with a stranger. She wished Dillon would hurry up and get here, and take Silver Fox away. Then she could hide in the house and lick her wounds the way she liked best. Alone.

The three of them stood in awkward silence for a moment before Alex spoke. “Come on, Hallie. Let’s go home and fix some lunch.”

But the child ignored him.

He frowned. “Hallie?” He took a step toward the paddock.

To Caitlin’s shock, when the kid faced him, a single tear slid down her cheek. “I don’t want lunch,” she said. “I only wanted to feed the horse.” Her eyes accused Caitlin. “But he’s leaving, too. Everyone always leaves.” She jumped down off the fence and raced across the road and through the barbed wire fence around her dad’s property, disappearing over a rise in the ground.

“Hallie!” Alex called after her. He muttered, “I’m sorry,” then took off in pursuit.

Caitlin stared after them. What in the world was that all about? From the paddock, Silver Fox nickered softly.

“You’re always hungry, aren’t you?” Hobbling closer, she leaned the cane against the fence and cupped the gray’s head lovingly between her hands. He lowered his neck over the fence, rubbing against her. “Quit it,” she scolded him affectionately, scratching his jaw and the side of his face with her fingertips.

She buried her face in his forelock, inhaling the sweet scent of his coat, which was already turning fuzzy with the coming fall. Prior to the accident, she’d always kept him blanketed and in a warm stall to prevent his winter hair from coming in thick so he’d look good in the show ring. But once she knew their riding days were over, she’d instructed the stable hands to turn the gelding out on nice days to gradually acclimate him to the outdoors. No sense in keeping him cooped up now when he needed the exercise of roaming free in the pasture.

No sense in keeping him here, either.

He’s leaving, too. Everyone always leaves. What had the child meant? But it was none of her concern. Lord knew, she had enough problems of her own without worrying about some guy and his kid.

Caitlin felt a pull of sadness as she stood there. It wasn’t Silver Fox’s fault she couldn’t ride him anymore, and she shouldn’t take her spite out on the horse. She’d missed him during the weeks she’d spent in the hospital and in her bed at home. And unless she made a definite decision to sell him, there was no sense in shuffling the horse from one handler to another, one place to the next. She might not be capable of riding, but surely she could manage to feed and care for one single horse.

Perhaps with the help of a little girl who obviously had issues, and who maybe needed a friend. She ignored her wicked inner voice that reminded her the girl also had a handsome-as-sin father and most likely a mother.