Page 7 of Captured by the Billionaire Cowboy (The Secret Billionaires #7)
“I’m just teasing you,” he broke into wayward thoughts. “I was going to tell you. That’s why I called you back.”
If it was hard staying annoyed at a ranch hand, it was all but impossible to begrudge the man who just saved the lives of a dozen horses. Yet far more existed between them than a simple misunderstanding. “It’s been a long time,” she murmured. “You really have changed.”
To a greater extent than at first apparent, and not just physically.
Rowan had always been confident and strong, but he had been playful at times, with a genuine smile despite his numerous responsibilities.
Now a stark seriousness emblazoned him, a seemingly endless expanse of solemness. Almost like his father…
But not truly. His father would not have helped her.
He would not have allowed them to stay on the ranch or employed a vet to examine them.
He certainly would not have cared whether they lived or died.
Rowan was sacrificing his time, effort and money, and had asked for nothing in return. Perhaps he wasn’t as bad as–
Stop. She had allowed herself to be fooled once. She had given him everything, and it had all but destroyed her.
“I hope the changes were positive.”
She looked up sharply. If turning into a virtual male model was positive, then yes. “You’ve matured… well.”
The sides of his lips tugged up, and for a moment he was the kid she used to know. He leaned closer. “So have you. And you haven’t stopped trying to save the world, one housefly at a time.”
She blushed. “I usually focus on larger animals now.” She notched her head to the horses. “These beauties are my favorite.”
“They always were.” His expression didn’t change, and yet somehow she could sense his satisfaction.
“Thank you for this,” she forced out the words. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if Frank hadn’t said yes. Like I said, I plan to start searching for permanent homes today. We won’t be here long.”
Was that a slight frown? “They’re welcome to stay for as long as you need. They’ll be safe here.”
Like her heart had been safe with him? She restrained bitter words, as they stood side-by-side, inches and a million miles apart. He didn’t acknowledge the awkwardness. “Do you want to sell them?”
She hesitated, but why? Only a single answer was possible.
“I wish I could donate them, but I broke into my piggy bank buying them. If I want to help more animals – or eat – I need to recoup at least some of the costs. I’m planning to offer very reasonable adoption fees. I don’t want to profit from the sale.”
“That’s fair.” He stood perfectly straight. “If you give them away, someone may sell them to a slaughterhouse. We need to look up the price per pound and make certain we’re above that.”
She stiffened. Sickening.
“First we need to clean and groom the horses.” He retrieved a sleek tablet from his pocket and started typing.
“I’ll arrange it. Then we’ll take photographs from different angles and select the best ones to feature.
Giving them names might help attract interest. I’ve located the best websites to advertise, and we’ll post listings as quickly as possible. Then we should–”
“Wait a minute.” Ciara touched his arm, like she’d done a hundred times before, and yet nothing like before. Instead of gentle firmness, his arm was solid muscle. Oh my.
She jerked her hand back, fought for distraction to replace this… whatever she was feeling. Aw, yes, anger. “I appreciate your help, but I want to make these decisions. You can’t just take over.”
He folded his arms, stretching the shirt taut against his chest. She stared for an hour or two, fought the urge to back down.
The old Rowan would have teased her, fought a duel of witty banter, even as he usurped control.
It had been a habit back then, yet something had changed, hardened him.
This man was clearly accustomed to being in charge.
Yet he was also helping the horses, which meant she had to remain professional. “I appreciate the help, but you must want to get back to your life. I can take care of–”
“I’m taking a vacation.”
She stopped. She assumed he’d swiftly leave. She also assumed she wouldn’t care. For some reason she was inexplicably not dismayed to learn otherwise. “You’re staying?” She blinked. “Uncail Frank said you were very busy. He said you haven’t taken a vacation in years.”
“That’s not true. As I was just telling my assistant, I took time off last week.”
“Oh yeah? What did you do?”
“I spent some time lying back and relaxing. Even had a laugh or two, courtesy of the special air.”
“What special ai–
“So anyways–” He rubbed his hands together like an old-time robber baron. “I’m happy to work together. As long as you follow my every order.”
She choked back a colorful yet inappropriate word, thought why bother and opened her mouth to share when his lips twitched. She exhaled, fought threatening amusement. “Just for that, I’m going to name them all Rowan Jr.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you dare.”
She turned her head lest he see the smile. “Fine. I won’t do it now, but I reserve the right if the situation warrants it.”
“I will keep that under advisement. Ready to get started?” He seemed to be hiding his own amusement as he turned back to his tablet, displaying neatly organized notes, with a section for every horse.
“The doctor gave specific recommendations for each animal. Let’s evaluate and discuss what needs to be done before the listings.
” He traced the lines in the spreadsheet as he gestured to Jasmine.
“Physically, this horse is doing fine. She has a few scratches and is malnourished like the rest of them. The doctor said she’d heal quickly.
Unfortunately, she’s greatly traumatized.
” He reached out, but Jasmine backed up in alarm, jumping, snorting and tossing her head.
“Easy girl.” He frowned. “It might be a while before she can be adopted.”
Ciara just stopped herself from reaching for the horse. No doubt the reaction would be the same. For now. “Actually, she’s already been adopted.”
“Really?” He glanced up from the tablet. “By whom?”
“By me.” She leaned against the fence. “I don’t know if Frank told you, but I expected one horse when I went to the ranch. The others were a surprise.”
“This was the horse?” he guessed. When she nodded, he whistled lowly. “It’s not going to be easy. She may never accept you. Are you sure you don’t want one of the others?”
She shook her head firmly. “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.
The way she looked at me when I came… it was like she knew I was there to rescue her.
I plan to give every horse a good home, but I can’t keep them all.
Yet the thought of giving up Jasmine seems so wrong.
It’s like we’re…” She trailed off, waved her hand.
“Connected.”
Bright blue eyes brimmed with understanding.
Something passed between them, something inexplicable, intangible, poignant .
He seemed to feel it, too, as, for a moment, fathomless eyes turned pensive.
The next second, his neutral mask returned.
“We obviously don’t need pictures, but we’ll wash and groom her. ”
“I want to do it myself,” Ciara affirmed. “We need to be gentle.”
“Of course.” They moved to the black Thoroughbred in the adjoining stall. Even underweight, he was still a magnificent animal, his personality strong as he pranced closer. “It should be easy to find an adoptive family for this one.” Rowan made a notation on the screen. “What should we call him?”
“I was thinking of Inky.”
“Please tell me you’re joking.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing if you’re naming a pet octopus.”
“Did you know I once started a Save the Octopi campaign?”
“I have no doubt.”
She laughed softly. “Perhaps Inky is a little mellow for such a commanding horse,” she admitted. The animal held its head for attention, which she accommodated with a soft caress. “What do you suggest?”
“Deathstar.”
She stared at somber features. “You’re joking.” He stayed still… until his lips quirked up. “You are joking.” She resisted the urge to tweak him. “Let’s compromise. How about Inky Deathstar?”
Rowan chuckled. It transformed him, vanquishing the ever-present tension and revealing the boy she left behind. Even the horses seemed calmer, as if they could sense his good humor. “What about Blaze?” he suggested.
“Blaze?” Ciara cocked her head to the side. Likely, the stallion would soar over the ground once he received adequate nutrition and exercise. “That’s perfect.”
They moved to the next horse, a frisky mare that soon earned the name Butterfly.
They assessed the horses one by one, giving each assurance, a nice rubbing if they were amiable and a suitable name.
Conversation flowed, and for a few minutes it was as if no time had passed since they perused Old Man Byrne’s horses so long ago.
They had just finished the last when voices sounded from outside.
Ciara turned as three men strode into the stables.
Two she recognized right away. Even if she hadn’t seen pictures of Rowan’s lookalike brothers at the estate, their uncanny resemblance made their identities obvious.
She’d never actually met them, because their father sent them to camp every summer, but occasionally he mentioned them.
Like Rowan, they were handsome men, their strides confident, their bearings assured.
Unlike Rowan, they wore easy smiles.
She had never seen the final man who walked in, not in person or in picture. He possessed a wide smile, auburn hair and the distinctive features of Down syndrome. “Hi Rowan!” he said happily, skipping forward. “We found you!”
Ciara glanced at Rowan. Every muscle was clenched, his lips a thin slash, as he stared at the approaching men.
The two men strode up close behind. “We sure did,” the taller of his two brothers proclaimed. He looked at Ciara, and his smile broadened. “Is this the lady who inspired you to take your first vacation in a decade?”